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#but please enjoy a little recovery and friendship fic!!

catharrington · 30 days

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@harringrovemicrofic

Steve’s face has healed, mostly. Just as Billy’s own face has healed, mostly. He’s still ever the werewolf he felt like that night. The grotesque, ravenous teeth he bared still reflect back in the mirror. Under the tan, the blue eyes, the smile he’s practiced so well… waits the wolf Billy Hargrove is.

But Steve, his face has healed human. His hair is growing longer and his smile comes easier.

Around them the deep Indiana snow has melted out to a brilliant green spring. Steve seems to be thawing out with it. Billy cannot wait to see what gold summer is going to bring into Steve’s cream colored skin.

For Billy, he’s trying to bloom. He’s taking long drives down the backwoods winding roads, driving fast but not fast enough to miss the way wildflowers bloom right on top of last year's rot.

He wants more than anything to let go of his monster, of his rot, but it’s harder than it looks.

Anytime Billy makes an effort it feels unfamiliar to him in a way he can’t stand. In California he was effortlessly golden in summer. It’s just moving, dammit, it shouldn’t have changed him as much as it did!

But it did.

“Hey, Harrington.” He’ll force the words out anytime he passes Steve. He smiles with it, but he’s got a mouth full of fangs.

Steve smiles back at him, a line of sunlight between bare branches that’s magic enough to let the flowers grow.

Billy does the same to every kid who was in that house that night. All the kids he scared and hurt, all the kids who saw the yellow of his eyes. He nods at them in a way that he hopes makes them feel included, that his beast will protect them instead of harm them anymore. That he’s a dog with a collar, for fucks sake.

He doesn’t know if it’s working. His stepsister, Max, hasn’t treated him any differently. The kids… Steve… hasn’t treated him any differently.

It’s his birthday, and there’s flowers growing outside next to the chain link fence of the football field. Billy’s sitting inside listening to his teacher but watching the flowers. The leaves and stems seem so dark green here in the Midwest, Billy thinks the ones back home were lighter. Or maybe not.

The bell rings and he ditches lunch for a smoke break. Slinking under the bleachers to be alone.

“Hey, Hargrove.” The voice is melodic as it interrupts him. Perfect, and horrifying.

Steve stands there, holding out a half crumpled pack of cigarettes that’s colored gold. Billy’s hand shakes as he lifts it to accept one, grinning cruelty as he pulls two and places the second one behind his ear.

Steve clicks his tongue at him for doing it, but still lets him. “Sure, one for later.”

“It’s my birthday, after all,” the words pour out with the smoke after his first puff, he can’t stop them, “so thanks, pretty boy.”

“Fuck, really?” Steve asks. His voice pitching up in a cute way.

Billy pulls another drag, exhaling smoke from his nose as he only grunts in reply.

“Here, you should be the one to take this, then,” Steve’s hand slips the pack back into his pocket and fishes for something. “Since it’s your birthday.”

He holds out a skimpy looking white flower, with short and cute petals only a little roushed. It’s got dark green leaves on a dark brown stem only about as long as a palm. And Steve’s hand looks huge as he offers it to Billy.

“It’s called a salt and pepper, or a harbinger of spring. I’ve been told.” He laughs as he searches over the tiny thing. “El— oh, well, one of the kids gave it to me. But I think she’d be okay with you having it.”

Billy takes it slowly. Worse than how he took the smokes. Shaking and nervous, his fingers bump into Steve’s as he picks the flower. He pulls it close and it smells like rich-boy cologne, it smells like hair spray, it feels like heaven.

He blows more smoke out his nose.

“Do ya wanna skip the rest of the day with me?” He asks the flower. The harbinger of spring, Steve had called it. Billy’s got to remember how his mother pressed flowers so he can keep this for his whole life.

“Hell yes,” Steve answers. And Billy’s smile doesn’t feel forced.

#post season 2 my beloved #sorry I know word count should be 400 but I can’t help my word count when it’s comparing billy to a monster that’s my bread and jam #but please enjoy a little recovery and friendship fic!!#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my fic #harringrove microfic

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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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justabigassnerd · 3 months

Text

Summer of Love pt. 2

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 3,275

Warnings - mentions of medication, injuries

Summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

Summer of Love masterlist

A/N - ya girl is back from the dead people! (did anyone cheer?) anyways I'm so sorry for the long break and I'm sorry this isn't the most exciting fic to return with like I'm fully aware it's mostly filler but I hope it can tide y'all over. if you guys have any ideas of what you'd like to see in the series you're more than welcome to let me know. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

With counsellor orientation now in full swing, you were spending a lot of your time getting used to the schedule of working at a summer camp. Early starts were no problem to you and neither was making lesson plans but getting used to the camp and the people you worked with was something you had to settle into. Thankfully, working alongside Bradley meant you already knew one person you’d be around a lot and he helped you feel a lot more confident when you met the other counsellors who’d be teaching field sports. You and Bradley had also been briefed on hikes that you’d be leading and you were able to map out appropriate trails for the hikes.

After a long day of going through lesson plans, running potential drills you could do during activities, and taking your swim test in case you wanted to go in the lake at any point, you were just about ready to collapse. You entered the staff lounge and flopped face down on the sofa with a dramatic groan, hearing the laughs of your friends you entered the room with after dinner.

“Tired?” Ella jokes, easing herself down on the other sofa as you turn your head to look at her.

“Just a little.” You reply with a laugh, flipping yourself onto your side as you greet other staff members who enter, moving to sit upright so people can sit on the sofa with you.

Bradley is among the last people to enter the room and by that point, both sofas are almost packed but upon spotting him, Freddy moves over on the sofa, leaving just enough space for Bradley to squeeze in between you and him.

“Hey, Bradley. There’s a space right here.” He points out, hand patting the free space with a grin as you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You knew Ella had already caught on to your schoolyard crush on Bradley, and you were sure she’d told Bradley’s friends too and that’s why they spent so much time trying to force you two to sit near each other when they could. You knew the chances of Bradley feeling the same towards you were slim so you were more than content to sit within the comforts of your friendship knowing after camp ends you’d go your separate ways and never talk to each other again. You just wanted to enjoy the time you had getting to be his friend without your friends forcing you close and potentially making Bradley uncomfortable.

“Is this okay?” Bradley’s voice shakes you from your thoughts as he eases into the gap between you and Freddy. You nod with a small smile, fighting back the flame you felt building behind your cheeks as Bradley’s leg brushed up against yours. The group of you continued to chat until the sun started to set and one by one people began to retire to their cabins for the night and you and Bradley were among the last to leave the staff lodge and took a moment between the two of you as you stepped out onto the grass and took in the night sky.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of the sky at night.” You mumble, more so to yourself than to Bradley but seeing him look at you out of the corner of your eye gave away the fact that he had heard you.

“I wish I could show you how beautiful a night at the beach is where I live.” Bradley murmurs in response, his soft voice unknowingly fanning the flames that lit beneath your cheeks. You were sure he was just saying that to make conversation.

“I’ll just have to trust you on that one.” You say with a slight chuckle, glancing over at Bradley and locking eyes with him, bringing a small smile to your face as you do.

“That you will. Maybe I’ll send you a picture or something once I’m back home.” Bradley says, his smile mirroring yours. A silence falls over the two of you and you glance over your shoulder, breaking the eye contact for but a brief second to consider your next move.

“I should probably head back to my cabin to get some sleep.” You say, silently hating how awkward you sounded.

“I should probably do the same. We can’t exhaust ourselves before the kids have even arrived.” Bradley then says, watching as you bid him goodnight quietly before turning around and heading in the direction of your cabin.

“y/n, wait!” You stop in your tracks at Bradley’s voice. Loud enough to get you to stop but not loud enough to disturb anyone nearby. You turned around and waited as Bradley approached you.

“I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to run a couple of soccer drills with me tomorrow. I have some ideas for some warmups but I’m going to need a partner to make sure they work before the kids arrive.” Bradley says, hoping and praying you agreed to help him out. He could’ve asked anyone on the field sports team for help but he wanted you to help him.

“Okay, but you know I’m not the best at soccer so if I mess up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You say, a smile breaking out across yours and Bradley’s faces as he lets out the smallest of relieved sighs at your agreement.

“You’ll be great, I just know it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bradley says, smiling as you nod and wish him a good night before you both retire to your cabins for the night. When you reach your cabin you enter quietly, aware of the people sleeping and quietly get ready for bed before crawling under the covers and falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Bradley entered his cabin and immediately got jumped by his cabin mates who were demanding to know what he said to you.

“You know, I’m going to be so grateful tomorrow when I no longer have to share a cabin with you guys. I swear you give the Daggers a run for their money.” Bradley jokes as he sits down on his bed, rubbing at his eyes.

“We’re just invested now come on! Did you ask her out?” Nathan asks, placing his book down on the bedside table by his bed and giving Bradley his full attention.

“What? No! We’ve only known each other a week. Besides, once we leave camp we’ll probably never speak again. That’s just what happens.” Bradley says with a shrug, leaning back and lying across his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Dude, you can just get her number or something.” Cameron shrugs, confident he has solved all the problems singlehandedly. Bradley couldn’t help but let out a gentle sigh at his words.

“I thought some friends I made in the naval academy were going to be people I kept in contact with but the moment we got our deployments that was it. None of us spoke again.” Bradley says, thinking back to the recruits Bradley had befriended during training and then again at flight school and Top Gun. Outside of the Daggers, Bradley had made no solid connections with any other Navy personnel. He of course appreciated the efforts of his cabin mates, but he was sure their efforts were in vain.

“That doesn’t mean y/n would do that to you. I can tell she likes you.” John then says, a quiet falling over the group as all focus ends up on Bradley.

“Okay, well if you didn’t ask her out. What did you ask her then?” Nathan asks when Bradley doesn’t respond to John’s words.

“I just asked if she wanted to run some soccer drills with me tomorrow to potentially add to lesson plans.” Bradley replies, propping himself up on his elbows and glancing around at the group as they all exchange looks.

“And she said yes?” Cameron prompts, the three breaking out into smiles when Bradley nods. They all exchanged a look when Bradley returned his attention to the cabin ceiling. They knew they couldn’t force you or Bradley to admit anything but they could at least nudge you both in the right direction.

“We should probably get some sleep, huh?” John says after a couple of minutes of silence, followed by the agreement of everyone else who quickly get themselves ready for bed and switch off their cabin light to get some sleep.

The next morning, you awoke to your alarm and slowly dragged yourself out of bed to get yourself changed and ready for the day. Once you were dressed, you made your way to the dining hall to grab breakfast, located your cabin mates sat at a table and joined them once you had your food. As you ate, Kerry stood at the front of the room and addressed everyone, letting you know that the first port of call for the day was to find out your cabins for the summer and to move your stuff into your new cabin before creating a poster to hang up on the outside of the cabin to make the kids feel a bit more welcomed and to give their cabin a sense of community straight out of the gate before you’d spend the rest of the afternoon after lunch finishing up your last few chances to prepare lessons for when the kids arrive. After you all finished breakfast, you were dismissed and each grabbed an envelope with your name on it to find out which cabin you’d be in for the duration of camp and once you got out of the dining hall you opened your envelope and flipped the postcard over, studying the writing on it.

“Hey, y/n, what cabin did you get?” Ella asks, sidling up alongside you with her own postcard in hand.

“Cabin eleven. What about you?” You reply, tearing your eyes away from your postcard to look at Ella.

“I’m in cabin five with Alex as my co-counsellor. I’m so excited!” Ella says happily, embracing you excitedly before rushing off to find her co-counsellor. You watched her leave before focusing your attention back on your own postcard. You knew cabin eleven would be a cabin of four girls so you wouldn’t have a co-counsellor but you were okay with that. You were just excited for camp to start properly. When you notice some of the other female counsellors beginning to make their way back to their cabins to move their belongings to their new cabins you begin to follow the crowd, chatting with some of them as you go.

Meanwhile, Bradley had just finished telling his friends about what cabin he was going to be in and turned around in search of you. His smile faltered when he couldn’t find you and instead saw the back of you as you disappeared down the girl's cabin line. He wanted to go and talk to you about your new cabin placement but he also knew he needed to worry about moving all his stuff to the new cabin. He spared you one last glance before turning around and heading in the direction of the boy's line of cabins.

After moving all of your belongings from cabin six to cabin eleven, making your bed and tidying your bags away after putting some of your belongings on the bedside table such as your alarm clock, hairbrush, a book to read, and your notebook filled with lesson plans. After sorting yourself out, you headed over to the arts and crafts room to join everyone in making posters and chore wheels for the cabins. There weren’t many people present when you first arrived but as you began to work on your poster more people slowly trickled in. Kerry had gone around and given everyone a list of names of the kids in your cabins so you could learn their names before they arrived and put them on the chore wheel and poster. You got to work, creating a poster and chore wheel for your cabin. As you finished the poster and moved on to the chore wheel, carefully writing out each chore, a sheet of paper appeared in your peripheral vision and you glanced over to see Bradley easing himself down next to you, and you didn’t miss the way he winced a little as he sat down.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, not wanting to draw attention to Bradley potentially being in any pain if he didn’t want you to.

“I’m good, must’ve pulled something in my back moving all my gear. I had a feeling I packed too much.” Bradley says with a chuckle, trying to ease your mind so you didn’t worry about him and trying his best to ignore the way the lie tugged at his heart.

“Maybe take some painkillers later if it’s still sore.” You say sympathetically, briefly averting your gaze back to the task at hand as you write a name on the wheel before returning your attention to Bradley who nods minutely.

“I’ll see how I feel later.” Bradley says with a slight shrug, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer than he needs to. You nod silently and the two of you remain in the comfortable silence between you as you work on your posters and chore wheels.

“You know… I’m not sure how much a cabin of four thirteen-year-old boys will appreciate a poster on the outside of the cabin, let alone a chore wheel.” Bradley mutters, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as you let out a small giggle at his words.

“I don’t think my cabin of twelve-year-old girls will appreciate it much either but you gotta do what you gotta do. Besides you might win cool points with your naval aviator career. I’m sure they’d love hearing some of your stories.” You say, shrugging lightly as you put your pen down, satisfied with both your poster and your chore wheel. You stay put for a few more minutes, continuing to chat with Bradley until his friends come over and you excuse yourself so you can go and put the poster and chore wheel where they needed to be.

“I’ll see you at lunch.” You say as you grab your things and address the group, but mostly aiming your words at Bradley as you smile softly.

“See you at lunch.” Bradley echoes, his smile matching yours as you then turn to head to your cabin to put the items in their respective places before heading to the dining room where they are just beginning to serve lunch. You grab yourself a plate and dish up the food in front of you before grabbing a seat at one of the nearby tables, and slowly but surely your friends arrive and sit with you. Ella arrived first with Alex, having had the ability to split the task between two people, and then Bradley and Freddy came up next and spotted the three of you, quickly grabbing their food and joining you at the table with smiles.

“All done with setting up your cabins?” Alex asks after finishing a mouthful of food.

“Just about. It’s starting to feel like a real summer camp now.” Freddy says with a laugh.

“Was the fact that we’re in the middle of the woods with a lake nearby not enough of a hint?” Bradley jokes, making everyone laugh. When you all finish lunch, you clean up and then head outside to enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

“Hey, y/n, let’s grab a soccer ball so I can run that drill with you.” Bradley says and you nod, following him to the equipment cupboard and waiting for him to grab a ball before heading to the field to practice it. Bradley talks you through what he wants to try, making sure his instructions are clear and taking any advice you have to offer to make it clearer for when he teaches it to the children. Once you have been briefed on what the drill would entail you start the activity. After gaining some confidence, you’re able to tackle the ball off of Bradley a couple of times but when you decided to attempt a shot on goal just for a bit of fun you somehow missed the ball entirely and ended up sprawled on your back on the floor staring up at the sky.

“y/n! Are you okay?” Bradley’s face suddenly appears above you, his worried expression soon becoming a look of amusement when he realises that you’re laughing at the whole thing.

“Trust me to fall over literally nothing.” You laugh as you begin to sit up, stopping when Bradley offers a hand to you which you accept with a smile, allowing him to haul you to your feet but your smile faltered when he winced once more.

“Bradley, are you okay?” You ask, now even more concerned at him being in pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My shoulder’s acting up again.” Bradley says, making you fight the urge to speak up. He’d claimed his back had a pulled muscle earlier and now it was his shoulder? You were confused at his contradiction but you weren’t going to call him out on it. The most you could do is keep an eye on him.

“Just… take some painkillers. It’ll really help.” You say softly, picking up the soccer ball and walking with Bradley over to the equipment shed to return the ball.

“I will.” Bradley replies. Hating himself even more for lying but the lingering pain from his accident was manageable, he had just wrongly assumed that missing one day of his prescribed medicine would be okay since the pain hadn’t been bad recently, even with the activities he was partaking in.

“Maybe we should spend the rest of the afternoon going over our hike plans, just to make sure we have them sorted.” You offer, wanting Bradley to relax a little and not overexert himself. You may not know the cause of his pain or even where it lies but you did know you wanted to help your friend however you could.

“That sounds like a plan. Let’s grab our notebooks and meet on that bench just by the dining hall.” Bradley says and you nod before parting ways to return to your cabins to grab your notebook before heading to the bench and meeting Bradley. The two of you spend time comparing notes and revising anything that needs a second look at before it comes time for dinner and the two of you make your way up into the dining hall and have dinner, still discussing ideas before your friends join you.

When you all finish dinner you exit the dining hall and instead of heading to the staff lounge like you usually did in your evenings, you decide to head back to your cabin to prepare yourself for when the children arrive tomorrow afternoon. You bid your friend's goodnight and head back along the path that leads you to your cabin and enter the small building, flipping the light on as you do so. You decide to get a headstart on getting ready for bed and so go for a shower and change into your pyjamas before returning to your cabin, lying on your bed and reading your book as the sun finally sets. When a wave of tiredness overcomes you, you decide to close your book, set your alarm, and hit the hay, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to fall asleep both excited and nervous for the chaos that is to come tomorrow.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@noz4a2 @kim-stark @jessicab1991 @myxticmoon @burningwitchprincess @casuallyeating @adoringanakin @iamabeautifulperson18

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #summer of love #summer of love universe #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw

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wangxianficfinder · 2 years

Text

"Beautiful Writing and Good Plot" Compilation Part 1

We got a request at some point for stories with "beautiful writing and good plot" and I missed it back then, but here's my compilation, just from going through my bookmarks and looking for key words like *beautifully written, *lyrical, *epic, etc. So, in absolutely no particular order, please enjoy! [And feel free to list your own, and we'll do a Part 2 Compilation for all of yours as well!] ~ mojo

~*~

take me back to a time by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, my bookmark, PODFIC) - lwj time travels to modern wwx

❤️Dignity and Animality by Anielka (G, 37k, wangxian, my post) - wwx is reincarnated as a rabbit for the 13-year interval: watership down fusion... not necessary to be familiar with watership down

hills and rivers by LtLJ (T, 70k, wangxian, 4 works, my post) - post canon wwx settling into his new life with appropriate drama and angst

help is on the way by Vamillepudding (M, 15k, wangxian, my post) - dreamy, shadowy fairy tale feel about lwj crumbling/recovery in wake of yiling patriarch's dramatic demise... happy ending!

wide enough and wild by impossibletruths (E, 64k, wangxian, my post) - Noping Out Of Society With Your Boyfriend And Your 50 Wen Refugees: The Novel

❤️We'd roll and fall in green by x_los (E, 27k, wangxian, WIP, my post, 2 works, series in progress) - in which canon wwx was always a girl

Vagabond by xantissa (E, 65k, wangxian, my post) - post canon case fic

❤️The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, wangxian, my post) - seriously injured wwx after Qiongqi Path canon divergence: lwj caretakes

❤️A Burning Cold by MountainRose (G, 29k, child wei wuxian, my bookmark) - child wwx barely survives homelessness, is chronically ill, and all of canon is slightly different

❤️Dream a little dream of me by Moominmammashandbag (M, 60k, wangxian, my bookmark) - fix it where wwx never dies, he was imprisoned by the Jin and now is rescued

other earths and skies by binghecarer (T, 54k, wangxian, my bookmark) - East of the Sun, West of the Moon fairy tale au

mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed (E, 33k, wangxian, my post) - wangxian find peace during Sunshot with dom/sub

and his wanting grows teeth by yukla (T, 25k, wangxian, my post) - au where wwx grows up outside the cultivation world but lwj finds him anyway, casefic

the red dark shifting by typefortydeductions (E, 16k, wangxian, my post) - Star Trek, Tarsus IV au

Imperfect Memory by xantissa (E, 62k, wangxian, my post) - war prize lwj au

❤️爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 69k, wangxian, my post) - post canon case fic

two guys r in love thats literally it by victortor (M, 11k, wangxian, my post) - time travel fix it

seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, wangxian, my post) - in which wangxian have been betrothed since childhood

come morning light by wolframvonbielefeld (maknaeline) (E, 17k, wangxian, my post) - canon and post-canon, grief, character studies and healing

bring you home by Alasse_Irena (T, 28k, wangxian, my post) - modern au with grief and ptsd and healing

in your skin by darkredloveknot (enheduane) E, 10k, wangxian, my post) - post canon case fic with a little body horror

Grave of a Living God by Gotcocomilk (T, 35k, wangxian, my post) - wwx time travels... but ends up in wen ruohan's clutches

From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed (E, 38k, wangxian, my bookmark) - lwj learns a new cultivation in the 13 years interval

set your old heart free by words-writ-in-starlight (Gunmetal_Crown) (E, 42k, wangxian, my post, 6 works) - canon and post-canon feels and catharsis

❤️As It Should Be by kuro (M, 37k, wangxian, my post) - arranged marriage angst

❤️Ribbons and Heartsongs by jeyhawk (E, 37k, wangxian, my post) - kind of a mesh between space/fantasy/urban fantasy AU

Concerning Rabbits by manta (G, 28k, wangxian, my post) - grief and healing, bunnies and friendships

between the shadow and the soul by cl410 (M, 22k, wangxian, jiang siblings, my post) - post burial mounds wwx is feral and needs help, dreamy fairy tale feel

A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (E, 22k, wangxian, my post) post canon getting together

Lost and Found by dea_liberty (M, 36k, wangxian, my post) - post canon healing, but maybe not *plotty*

Yúyīn 餘音 by riotintheheartt (E, 18k, wangxian, my post) - au with god lan wangji and amputee wwx hiding/living in his temple

~*~

Under 10k (so maybe slightly less plotty)

~*~

After by tellthemstories (G, 5k, lan sizhui & lan wangji, my post) - parent-child relationship, grief and healing, 13 years

tonight i can write the saddest lines by sarahyyy (G, 4k, wangxian, my post) - amnesiac lwj learns to love wwx all over again, post canon

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 8k, wangxian, my bookmark) - horror with serving of yiling patriarch retribution

you, whose heart would sing of anarchy by doodlebutt (T, 9k, zhuiyi, my bookmark) - #sizhui has full custody of the brain cell; and #rule breaking as a love language

how to tame a dragon by lanwineji (E, 6k, chengyi, my post) - Spirited Away au where lan jingyi trips into another world and discovers jiang cheng

The Feathers in the Thread by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 4k, wangxian, my bookmark) - The Crane Wife fairy tale au

Buried in the Sky, Hallowed by thy Depths by themunchking (T, 9k, wangxian, my post) - in which the Twin Jades are sirens

the sleeper's gift by iliacquer (T, 6k, wangxian, my post) - fairy tale au inspired by Maleficent

the shadow of a name in skin by iliacquer (E, 9k, wangxian, my post) - amnesiac yiling patriarch, fairy tale feel

❤️tie a knife with a ribbon by iliacquer (E, 5k, wangxian, my post) - war prize lwj au, there is some plot with the pwp

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

#wangxian fic rec #wangxian #mdzs #the untamed #epic wangxian stories #beautiful writing and good plot #wangxianficfinder compilation post #beautiful writing and good plot compilation #epic mdzs stories #long post

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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 year

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Do you have any long domestic fics like 100k+? Like we are stuck in happy ever after

Hey Nonny!

Ah, this is a good question!

I've gone through all my Platonics and Domestics (Dec 2022) Johnlock lists as well as my offline lists, and I've decided to do a 50K+ list so I can have MOAR FICS lol. Hope that's okay!!

Enjoy!

If you have a long-fic that focuses heavily on Domestics with a happy ending, please do add them, friends!

LONG DOMESTIC JOHNLOCK (50K+ w)

A Study Of Living With Sherlock Holmes by AllesandraQuartermaine (T, 50,234 w., 22 Ch. || Post-ASiP/Pre-TAB, Domestics, Friendship, POV John) – Learn about what happened between John and Sherlock January 31st and March 22. From John's pov on how to survive and learn to live with one eccentric mad genius known as Sherlock Holmes.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w., 2 Ch. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it's all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court. Part 1 of the Care And Companionship series

MARKED FOR LATER

The Homecoming Series by sussexbound (M, 51,744 w. across 12 stories, WIP || Domestics, PTSD, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling, Jealousy, Family Issues) – Sometimes home is all you need. After three years of horror, betrayals, and crushing loss, John and Sherlock find their way back home to one another, and together find new footing in a world that has changed forever.

Your Many Tendencies Series by apliddell (T, 52,222+ w. across 5 works || WiP || Femlock, POC Characters, Enby Character, Sherlock’s Violin, YouTuber John, UST, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Domesticity, Fluff, Recreational Drug Use, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss, Love Confessions, John’s Family, Christmas, Anxious Sherlock, Hurt / Comfort, Institutional Racism) – John Watson returns to London after a long absence, somewhat the worse for wear. She meets Sherlock Holmes, and starts feeling excited about life again.

Following the (Silver) Fox by Jobooksandcoffee (E, 54,355 w., 15 Ch. || S3 Fix It Fic, Sherstrade, John/Mary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Pining Sherlock, Resentful John, Regretful John, Domestic Life, Drug Use, Happy Ending, Greg’s Children, Friendship, Unrequited Love) – After two lonely and painful years away eliminating the threads of Moriarty’s web, Sherlock comes home to find John living with Mary. John is also hurt and resentful, determined to not allow Sherlock to undermine his relationship with his new fiancée. Greg, who always thought Sherlock and John belonged together, becomes a closer friend to Sherlock. He gives the Consulting Detective a place to stay, a friend to have dinner with, someone who will listen to him. He tries to keep all interfering feelings at bay. As Sherlock notices his friendship with Greg becomes stronger, he begins to accept that maybe he can be alright even with John not living at Baker Street any more. He and Lestrade can work at the Yard, and talk about cases. Greg is good at rescuing Sherlock when John and Mary’s wedding preparations get intense. They are friends. This is enough for Sherlock. Right?

Hearts Don't Break Around Here by thatawkwardfriend (M, 54,796 w, 12 Ch. || Teenager AU || Homophobia, Past Abuse, Artistic John, John saves Sherlock, BAMF John, Horse Riding, Swimming, Minor Violence, First Kiss / Time, Making Out, Fireworks, Carnival, Fluff and Humour, Angst with Happy Ending, Death / Funeral, Hurt / Comfort, Morning After, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining) – When John gets in a fight at school, his parents send him to Sussex for the summer in hopes that living with the Holmes’ will shape him up. It is there that he meets Sherlock Holmes: a class A asshole too smart for his own good. John expects a long, dull, lonely summer. What he does not expect is to form an unlikely friendship with the strange boy across the hall. What he expects even less is to fall in love with him.

Ours Series by KeelieThompson1 (M, 76,922 w. across 7 works || Omegaverse || Omega John, Alpha Sherlock, Domestics, MPreg, Pre/Post Reichenbach) – John is an omega who has been on heat suppressants his entire life. When Sherlock realises this and shows an interest in John, they have to work their way through the problems caused by John having never had a real heat in his life.

The Things That Haunt Us by BRNZ (E, 92,993+ w., 18/? Ch. || Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dead People, Child Death, PTSD John, Psychological Horror, Nightmares, Bed Sharing, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Bliss, BAMF John, Friendship / Love, POV John, Pining John, Therapy) – What happens when a post war vet with PTSD takes up with a madman detective and they spend time investigating and solving some truly horrific crimes? How does the doctor who can kill with steady hand process all that additional trauma? How do we recognise that our past still haunts us, in ways we don't realise? When you are caught in a vicious cycle of needing the thrill of the chase, and having to deal with the fallout...what happens when you might need to choose between the two for your own sanity? The story of how two damaged men managed to find their way back to each other and begin to make a future together.

The Trouble with Sentiment by Khansfringe (E, 95,153 w., 16 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock, Alpha John, Knotting, Blow Jobs, Rough Sex, Pregnancy Prevention, Love Letters, Soldier John, Fingerfucking, Heat Suppressants, Implied Alcoholism, Implied Drug Use, Mating Cycles, PTSD Symptoms, Slave Trading, Angst, Fluff, Domesticity) – When John, a twenty-two year old Alpha university student, gets dragged to an Omega auction house by his friend, Mike Stamford, he wasn't planning on buying anything. At least, not until he saw Sherlock, the eighteen year old, emaciated Omega with trust issues. Now John and Sherlock have to find a way to work through both of their troubles, including Sherlock's tragic past and John's volunteering to join the army. Part 1 of the Always series

A Vintage Exceptionally to Your Liking by EmmyAngua (E, 95,334 w., 19 Ch. || Alternate Dimensions AU || S3 Fix It, Lies, Angst, Pining Sherlock, Superpowers, Domestics, BAMF Mary, Hiatus, First Time, Magical Realism, Slow Burn, Colliding Universes, Moral Dilemmas, Betrayal, Mary’s Past) – Sherlock and John met seven years earlier than canon and fell in love. When John dies, Sherlock is introduced to the concept of alternate dimensions and given the opportunity to visit a different universe where he can have a second chance with a new John Watson. A love story across alternate dimensions.

Minutiae (Or 156 Things I Know About You) by AtlinMerrick (E, 106,114 w., 80 Ch. || Marriage, Anal/Oral Sex, Domestics, Stand Alone Chapters, Humour, Prompts, Lovers, Short Stories) – Here, in no particular order, are some of the things John has learned about Sherlock, and some of the things Sherlock has learned about John. In the end there will be 156 mundane and unusual facts for each of them. (Um...I never stopped at 156.) (All chapters stand alone.)

Ex Files by 7PercentSolution (T, 161,586+ w., 58/? Ch. || Autistic Sherlock, Blogger John, Neurodiversity, Depression, Suicidal Ideations, Kidlock, Chemistry, Protective Mycroft, Bullying, Sherlock’s Violin, Case Fic, Missing Scene, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Domesticity in Flatsharing) – A collection of one shot stand alone ficlets of varying lengths that cover aspects of Sherlock's world. Not in chronological order, nor linked, but together adding up. Varying points of view, but mostly John's at the start. Each chapter informs and illuminates some aspect of character or an event in their back story. Part 1 of the Ex Files series

The Only One in the World; I Invented the Job by apliddell (E, 323,869 w., 460 Ch. || Post-TRF, Developing Relationship, Flirting, Texting, POV Sherlock First Person, Domestic Fluff) – This is the sequel to The Adventure of the Consulting Corpse. It's a serial with short plot arcs and long characterisation arcs. It follows John and Sherlock through the development of their relationship. Part 2 of the The Most Human series

Reichenbach Falls by VeeTheRee (M, 536,133+ w., 101/303 Ch. || WiP || Gravity Falls / Multifandom AU || Alternate First Meeting, Gay Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Unilock, Summer Romance/Love, Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Villain Mary, First Kiss, Slow Burn, Doctor Who, Supernatural, Canadian John, French Canadian Lestrade, Insecure Sherlock, Mystery, Domestic Fluff, Developing Relationship Summer Love, Light Angst, BAMF! John, Case Fic) – Two Canadians, two Brits studying in Canada, and an upkeeper walk into a Mystery Shack…. and live there. Summer holidays are here, and the step-siblings, Irene Adler and Sherlock Holmes, find themselves in a boring town called Reichenbach Falls, Oregon, USA. It isn’t as boring as it seems, however, once Sherlock stumbles upon a mystery journal, and the author is unknown. The journal contains ciphers, a strange colour wheel, and information about magical creatures that are said to be looming in the Northwestern forests. With mysteries to solve in hand, he and Irene set out to get to the roots of the town, and the abrupt disappearance of the author of the journal. But they’re not alone - John Watson, quite the handsome nephew of the Mystery Shack owner Greg Lestrade, is on their side to help out, plus mess with Sherlock’s feelings, in a good way. Shenanigans, romance, fun, danger, and deductions ensue. Oh, and there’s also occasional SuperWhoLock and two dorky Winchester brothers to spark up the action later on. Part 1 of the Reichenbach Falls series

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #domestic johnlock #long fics #my fic recs

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blackestnight · 6 months

Note

trick or treat!!!!!!!

send an ask with "trick or treat!" for a fic-related surprise.

another handwritten treat! transcribed in full below the cut.

Zero perched as far forward on the couch—well, it was shorter than a couch, maybe this was what mortals called a setee—as she could. A fire crackled in the hearth across the room, but she was content to ignore it; Ishgard's cold bothered her as little as Garlemald's, but seated like this she could focus on the steady wood of the frame under her, rather than feeling like she would sink into the too-soft cushions.

Cornerwise to her seat, Hanami's mate busied himself with pouring drinks into fragile-looking dishware. "How do you take your tea, Mistress Zero?" he asked, with a bright smile.

(Mortals smiled so much. Even strangers. Zero's cheeks ached just thinking about it.)

She looked at the tray, at the steaming drinks—tea, apparently, though it smelled nothing like the masala chai she was served in Radz-at-Han, nor did it resemble the grassy brew that lived in her hazy memories of home before the Flood.

"In a cup," she said. It only seemed sensible. "And hot. Please," she added. Vrtra was always very kind about explaining that such pleasantries were polite, even when responding to an unsolicited offer.

The man (Aymeric, she reminded herself) raised a hand to his mouth and made a quiet choking noise. "Of course," he said, after a momentary recovery. "Would you like any accoutrements with your drink? Sugar, syrup, jam?"

That would explain the little bottles and jars littering the tray. The meyhane usually didn't add anything to the drinks after serving, so...

"I don't know," Zero admitted.

Aymeric nodded, like this was normal. "My preference is for syrup," he said, "but the prevailing wisdom is that jam produces a more complex flavor. I'm certain Hanami will be happy to provide recommendations as well, when she arrives."

Hanami did enjoy the same foods Zero did, when they ate together, but complex sounded like something to work up to. Her taste buds were still not as sensitive as the others' seemed to be. "Syrup will do," she said. "Will Hanami return soon?"

Aymeric handed her a cup with a spoon and a small cookie balanced on an impractically tiny plate. "She should be home within the bell, at the latest," he said. "I do apologize for the delay—she mentioned the two of you had scheduled an outing."

"I asked Hanami to teach me how to express my friendship to others," she said. "Mostly in battle."

Aymeric made the choking sound again, muffled slightly by his mouthful of tea, but settled before Zero felt compelled to intervene. "I see," he said, and offered her another baffling smile. "Hanami is indeed quite...devoted to her friends—and uniquely skilled in protecting them from harm; I have never known a guardian to be her equal. Should you have any questions regarding social customs, however, or other traditions of affection, I would be happy to offer what assistance I may."

Zero frowned. She had initially asked Y'shtola for help channeling the sudden surges of fire in her breast into power; Y'shtola always explained things concisely and clearly. She had only given one of her grins-that-meant-laughter, though, and directed her query to Estinien, who had blinked at her and told her to ask Vrtra. And Vrtra's little mannequin had also smiled (kinder than Y'shtola) and declared Hanami the expert.

...that felt like too much to explain.

"But you aren't my friend," she said, because it was shorter.

For the third time in as many minutes, Aymeric almost choked on his tea.

#final fantasy xiv #writing - mine #zero #aymeric de borel #ask meme #ask #aethernoise #TY EMILY #sorry not sorry i'm in love with writing from zero's pov #especially in like the 6.2 - 6.4 era #her autistic swag is UNMATCHED

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siriuslyblacks · 2 years

Text

wolfstar fic rec list

this is born purely out of my desire to contribute to the world of rec lists. over the past 5-6 months i have been consuming an absurd amount of marauder ff and wanted to toss my love out there for the fics that i absolutely LOVED. everything is hosted on AO3 unless otherwise indicated. i’ll probably add to this as i read more i really enjoy. everything should be marked with rating, major warnings, a summary -- i’ll put my own thoughts/comments when appropriate as well. i did not include fics where the primary relationship isn’t wolfstar because i already had so many on the list but if you ever want either more recs, more specific recs, or recs for fics where wolfstar is not the primary ship please just send an ask my way! :) happy reading!

fics denoted with ** indicate my all time faves.

One to speak, another to hear by seventymilestobabylon

rating: teen, no archive warnings apply

The Wizarding Wars are over, but the work of recovery has only begun. Remus Lupin is trying to find his place in an ever-changing world, and when he is invited to serve on a truth and reconciliation commission, he has to confront the truth that lives there—in the past and within himself.

this one i read a while ago and it probably deserves a re-read -- i remember really really enjoying remus’ portrayal in this fic as well as the concept of the truth commission.

all my cards are here by haey1

rating: teen and up audiences

Sirius cracked a well-practiced smirk, “Nice to meet you, Remus.” Sirius looked at his bandmates loading their equipment into Potter's car, “You wouldn’t happen to know a bassist, would you?”

Marauders Band AU - When the Marauders kick out their bassist, they ask local bartender Remus Lupin to step in. As the band gains success, Remus must navigate his new friendship with Sirius under the public eye.

i love love loved this one! the sequel is currently a wip which i’ve been following as well. to be honest i’m a sucker for band aus featuring a messy r/s dynamic and this does not disappoint.

** Remain in light by veeagainst

rating: explicit

What if Sirius Black didn't die? It's been done many times. Here's my take on it.

THIS IS ONE OF MY MOST FAVORITE FICS. i love the wolfstar relationship. i think it’s very realistic and it’s honestly very comforting to me!! i’ve found myself revisiting this fic a few times because i can’t get enough of their characterizations, as well as the plot. i think this deserves all the hype.

** Beneath a big blue sky by eyra

rating: explicit, warnings: homphobia, homophobic language

The four-by-four heaves its way down long, twisting lanes, little more than dirt tracks scuffed into the surrounding fields and hemmed in by serpentine walls of flat, grey stone. They truly are in the middle of nowhere: the countryside rushes past, all rolling green hills and vast, endless skies, and it's odious. Sirius wants to murder James with his bare hands.

Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.

this one actually took me a while before i gave it a chance and it was so so worth it! sirius is absolutely adorable in this one and things unfold so naturally between them. give everything by eyra a chance if you haven’t, i love their fics but this one is definitely a standout in my opinion.

** Into the Fire by wilteddaisy (taotu)

rating: explicit. warnings include sexual content, recreational drug use, implied/referenced child abuse, non-graphic violence, drinking.

While war brews on the horizon beyond the walls of Hogwarts, the infamous Triwizard Tournament resurfaces just in time for the Marauders’ seventh year. When the students of Beauxbatons Academy and Ilvermorny School arrive, the champions are in for three unprecedented challenges. Meanwhile, Remus still has feelings, James is still trying to get the (Head) girl, and Sirius has revelations.

not a ton to say on this one except i loved the concept and the sirius characterization! i love too when the differences between sirius’s relationship with james vs with remus are touched on and how they each bring him very different things and one isn’t a stand in for the other! i think this story does it well.

SHAME by wilteddaisy (taotu) (must have AO3 account and be logged in to read)

rating: explicit. warnings include recreational drug use, mental illness, drinking, implied/referenced homophobia, sexual content, implied/referenced child abuse.

There were Isak and Even, Lucas and Eliott, Matteo and David… and now, Sirius and Remus. Or, alternatively: Sirius has some figuring-things-out to do. He’s not sure if Remus helps or makes things worse.

SKAM au! i admittedly have not seen skam. but i loved this. i loved the friends to more, i thought the subject matter was handled well, and overall it was a very enjoyable fic.

Sweater weather by lumosinlove

rating: explicit. warnings include sexual content, semi-public sex.

Remus works for the Gryffindor Lions as a physical trainer, and has been half in love with Sirius Black, the Lions' heartthrob captain, for a while now, but he never expected Sirius to return the feelings. Read if you like cute nicknames, slow burn, and pining. Yep. That's it.

i am a physical therapist so this actually has a soft spot in my heart because this career is never featured in fic!! this fic is such a fandom classic now and it has amazing OC’s, great pacing, and the relationship which forms is so natural and just made me smile so wide. i devoured this in a day.

Blends by rvltn909

rating: mature.

Words got in the way sometimes, but Remus got the sense Sirius knew what he was trying to say.

Another coffee shop au.

!!!! just cute cute ok.

No Bright Line by lady_grey

rating: explicit. warnings include anxiety, PTSD, implied/referenced homophobia, implied/referenced homophobic violence, smut

In which Sirius is a famous actor who has stopped believing in authenticity, Remus is a historian with a complex relationship to memory, and Lily is the brilliant filmmaker who brings them together. James and Harry are there too, although they mostly just want to enjoy the beach.

lily is making song of achilles into a movie!!! it’s wonderful!! i honestly forgot about this one until i was looking through my list and it is such a gem and must read. i remember absolutely tearing through this one, i loved r/s dynamic and remus as a historian is perfect. side characters/plots are awesome as well.

** Primavera by lunchbucket plus sequel Rococo

rating: explicit

Sirius never had an interest in art, not until he found the right person to show it to him, that is.

the art!! the age gap in the relationship!! sirius needing to grow up!!! i love older remus and this ‘verse has a special place in my heart. i think i identified a lot with sirius in this one and especially in the sequel rococo which literally spoke to my soul. if you’re in a stage of change especially with school/relationships/your career i would recommend.

Till we have arrived home by prouvairing

rating: explicit

Harry takes a deep breath. “I'm quitting the Aurors,” he starts with, which is followed by a moment of stunned silence. “What?” Sirius says. “All right," Remus says. “Do you know what else you want to do? Did you think about it?” Harry blushes, the way James used to—a rosy glow lighting up his brown skin—and says, “I wanted to—that is, I thought I might be a teacher.” Remus, quite suddenly, seems to have something in his eye. "Oh." “What?” Sirius says. “And uh—there's more. I was thinking I might like to. That is. I want to become an Animagus.”

Sirius Black & The Six by bellababe

rating: mature. warnings include substance abuse, drug use, past child abuse, domestic violence, mental health issues.

“Remus Lupin, frontman for The Six.” Sirius took a long drag off his cigarette, looking up at the dense evening sky. “You know, I asked around about you. You’re quite the mystery.”

Remus shrugged. “Not much for the spotlight.”

“Right,” Sirius drawled. “I bet you’re also not much for the rock ‘n roll perks.”

Remus tensed, sparing Sirius a scathing glance. “I’m sober now.”

Sirius quirked a brow in disbelief. Remus scowled at his nonchalance, unwilling to explain himself and scared that maybe, just maybe, the disbelief was warranted.

Loosely based on Daisy Jones & The Six

** The Cadence of Part Time Poets by motswolo

rating: explicit. warnings include drug use, mental health issues, drinking, homophobia, im probably missing a lot

“They’re… chaos,” Remus said firmly. “And chaos is—” “Rock and roll.” He looked at Sirius sharply, and for once, matched his grin. “Yeah.” “Maybe that’s my excuse then,” Sirius said. “I cause a bit of chaos now, and maybe one day, it’ll turn into rock and roll.” Remus pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “That’s some goal, Black.”

After losing his mother at age eleven, Remus has spent the better part of the last four years bouncing from school to school or else running around London and pretending as though he wasn't the kind of well-bred boy his father brought him up to be. Now, with his chances all run out, Remus is sent to Hawkings Independent School as a last-ditch effort to clean up his act. There he meets the very people who will set up the rest of his life, and is forced to confront the pieces of himself he'd long thought had been lost.

(genuinely not apologising for the slow-burn in this fic anymore. You've been warned <3)

this is my favorite fic of all time. i mean it. this deserves all the love and attention. it’s wip and going to be for a long time, it’s so worth the read. the world building is amazing. it’s remus centric and you just need to lean into the differences in this universe. it’s au - boarding school au, band au in the making. everything about this absolutely gets me and the r/s slowburn is so so so worth it. the characters are all so amazing and the oc’s are even better. it’s a time investment for sure but i can’t recommend it enough. it’s definitely my favorite non-magical au and i have nothing but good things to say about this. please read it and scream with me.

No Matter the Wreckage by greyeyedmonster18

rating: mature. warnings include underage drinking, implied/referenced child abuse, childhood trauma.

His first summer at the Potters after fifth year--the year of fistfights in hallways, chugging firewhiskey straight from the bottle, too much smoke, exam pressure, scathing letters from his parents, and a careless prank that nearly cost him his friends--was nothing short of painful and illuminating. Sirius Black returns for his sixth year at Hogwarts with longer hair, determined to be different. A story on learning how to love, how to exist, how to be different through cracks and leaks. A story about love no matter the wreckage.

(a sirius focused marauders at hogwarts, getting together wolfstar fic)

station to station by aeridionis

rating: teen and up

Beneath it all, at the back of his mind he does know that there’s something terrible in this: terrible in the fact that it’s god-knows what time in the morning and he’s sitting here, sick as a dog, and then Sirius can turn up with his eyes and his laughter and his arm resting against Remus’, and suddenly he could do this forever, Remus could – sit here with him like this. Grow old on the bathroom floor, Sirius’ wandlight casting soft shadows over the two of them like the dark patches on over-sweet fruit.

Sirius’ laughter dies down and he sighs. “Nineteen seventy-eight,” he mutters, as though testing the year out, the way it sits in his mouth. “Mad, isn’t it?”

“A bit.”

or:

Nineteen seventy-eight: there's beginnings and there's endings and there's love and elsewhere, there's war, and when you're seventeen and you're eighteen and you're Remus and you're Sirius, only some of these things are important.

i really enjoy this author’s fics so if you have time definitely check out the rest too!! this one is just such a stand out to me.

A Wolf’s Heart by mizdiz

rating: mature. warnings include major character death.

Remus Lupin has a congenital heart defect, and is awaiting an available heart for transplant. Sirius Black is an immature twenty-something, living with a couple other immature twenty-somethings. Both are obsessed with the same obscure book, which becomes their coping mechanism for navigating their instant and torrid love affair. Life, they discover, is precarious at best, but from each other, they learn how to make it something that's worth living.

THIS WAS SO SAD BUT SO WORTH IT.

** Just what the doctor ordered by WrappedUp

rating: explicit

This is the story of how Sirius Black finds a dog.

Except, it's not really that.

This is the story of how Sirius Black finds a dog and meets a skilled veterinary surgeon with crinkly eyes and dimples in his cheeks.

Except, that's not really it either.

This is the story of how Sirius black finds a dog, meets a skilled veterinary surgeon with crinkly eyes and dimples in his cheeks, and grows the fuck up (at least a little bit).

older remus!!!! their relationship here is perfect. idk i love fics where one of them has to grow up/have an emotional journey in order to be better for themselves and comfortable with who they are before being in a relationship that’s healthy. sirius’ arc in this is perfect. i have used these tips i will not lie. i love wrappedup’s fics so much by the way so please check them all out <3 i have a few more on this list because i can’t help myself.

** Happy Birthday, you by wrappedup

rating: mature. warnings include minor character death, recreational drug use, terminal illnesses, coercion, mildly dubious consent, homophobia, body image.

Sirius Black is about to turn thirty. But, like, it’s not a whole thing. It’s fine. And he’s absolutely not going to have a meltdown, fall in love with his oldest friend, and sabotage his own happiness.

He’s absolutely not.

i am convinced that this author is sirius black. i love their characterization of him in every single piece of their work.

Impossible Things by accioromulus

rating: explicit

Sirius’s thoughts are a slow-moving, impending disaster. How he wants to pin Remus up against the cupboards, to crowd him into a corner; how he wants to intertwine their fingers, to brush his lips against Remus’s forehead, his jaw. Instead, he settles for ducking his head and sliding a finger through the belt loop of Remus's jeans—a ridiculous gesture so utterly intimate, even for the pair of them, that he only allows it because he’s just drunk enough.

“Stop stealing my bloody clothes, Lupin.” He says, very quietly.

Remus looks up at him, eyes dark, and murmurs pleasantly: “Better learn to do your own laundry then, Black. Consider it my fee.”

***

It was an impossible thing, living with Remus Lupin--but Sirius was doing it anyway.

disintegration by moonymoment

rating: mature. warnings include graphic descriptions of violence, arson, war, death, blood drinking, corruption, ptsd

Remus stepped into Sirius’ personal space, leaning down and taking out his holy water doused dagger from his pouch. He placed it flat underneath Sirius’ chin, pushing his head up to look him in the eyes. He hissed as the silver burnt him, red and vicious.

“What,” he whispered, “are you doing here?”

Sirius looked pained for a second, and then he blinked, and that stupid, cocky smile lit up his face once more.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy?”

or - Sirius and Remus have been trying to kill each other for eight years, but something always seems to be standing in the way.

VAMPIRE SIRIUS AU! this fic is sooo good i see it all over tiktok all the time. i still need to catch up because i haven’t because i’m the worst. i love moonymoment’s fics though and this one is a whole world you need to sink your teeth into (ha!)

The Player’s Secret by wrappedup

rating: mature. warnings include implied/referenced suicide, depression, suicidal thoughts.

“So what’s he like? Full of it? Arrogant?”

“Yes,” he says, because he thinks that is a fair assessment. Sirius Black is full of it. He is arrogant. He’s also entitled and needy and smug. He’s talented, reckless, moody, selfish, childish, charming and sweet, and a million different other things Remus is trying to wrap his head around.

Sirius Black is hard work.

Remus Lupin is a successful documentary filmmaker who is assigned to make a fly-on-the-wall documentary featuring Sirius Black - one of the world's most brilliant footballers - as he competes in the European Championship.

All does not go smoothly.

this one is a cutie

** from white-hot anticipation to cold-blooded fear and back again by drowsyanddazed

rating: mature

They’re so close. Sirius can feel Remus’ hot, bated breath on his skin. He can see every one of Remus’ honey freckles and the white spiderwebs that course through his scar tissue. He can hear every one of Remus’ sharp inhales and shaky exhales; It’s the only sound he can hear above his own heart racing through his veins.

And his heart is doing that —racing. But it’s not like a thud, thud, thud in his chest or even a soft, fluttering sound like a warm, Irish lilt. The sound is more like a swoosh, like a pendulum swing, jumping from white-hot anticipation to cold-blooded fear and back again.

-or-

Remus is a storm blowing through Sirius’ small town and Sirius is laid out on the waterlogged cobblestone streets waiting to be washed away.

Ravenclaw remus!!! i love how obsessed sirius becomes with remus in this and how he just does not understand it whatsoever. too too cute. i am a sucker for their history so i don’t tend to gravitate towards fics where they’re in other houses but this one i loved too much.

ten reasons (to go to michigan) by greyeyedmonster18

rating: mature

Best-selling novelist Remus Lupin, distraught and torn after his relationship of 10 years ends in nothing but doubt and litigation leaves the bustle of New York City, and retreats to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan in hopes of reconnecting to his childhood and getting his writing spark back. Sirius Black is a local ceramicist and single parent with a backstory all his own, who happens to frequent the coffee shop Remus grew up studying in. Remus for the first time in his life didn't have a plan when he booked a one way plane ticket--except for maybe the plan to never fall in love again. Except...

A story of simple pleasures, love, and home.

(Modern, Adult Wolfstar AU; set in the states)

Highland fling by picascribit

rating: explicit. warnings include sexual content, outdoor sex, chronic illness

2004: The summer before college, Sirius goes backpacking through Scotland in order to escape his family's expectations. In a small village in the Highlands, an unexpected flirtation turns his whole world upside down. Alternately, the story of how Scotland loves Remus and wants him to be happy.

Carry me away by greyeyedmonster18

rating: mature

“You know I need you, and that's for sure, you’re just the kind of crazy I’ve been looking for.”

Sirius had devised the perfect plan. Two weeks in London before he started University. Two weeks of bars and football games and time spent out from under his parents gaze. Two weeks without rules or expectations. He concocted the perfect ruse to fool everyone about his whereabouts. And then he met Remus. And suddenly two weeks couldn't have ever been enough time.

(non-magic, AU; Sirius is a sheltered posh boy on his first rebellion, Remus is an attractive stranger who make's him re-think all his plans).

Solntse by lumosinlove

rating: explicit

Sirius, a young Russian billionaire hires Remus, who is working part time as a call boy to make ends meet. Things happen, feelings occur.

** lover, you should’ve come over by dykesiriusblack

rating: mature. warnings include chronic pain, disability, anxiety, sexual content.

Sirius Black is a mess. Remus Lupin is new.

It's all quite complicated.

The story of Remus and Sirius meeting at age 20, falling in love without meaning to, and not knowing how the fuck to deal with it for far too long.

i love love love these messy boys in this one. another one where i love sirius character arc. i love the pining. i love the complexity of their friendship and navigating feelings. i love the rest of the group.

** nothing left (but some blood where the body fell)

rating: mature

this countryside's burnin' with wolfmen fairies dressed in drag for homicide / they hit and run, plead sanctuary, 'neath the holy stone they hide / they're breakin' beams and crosses with a spastic's reelin' perfection / nuns run bald through Vatican halls pregnant, pleadin' immaculate conception / and everybody's wrecked on Main Street from drinking unholy blood / sticker smiles sweet as gunner breathes deep, his ankles caked in mud.

- lost in the flood, bruce springsteen

i’m currently reading this and it’s very very good! not necessarily wolfstar centric but it’s my current read and i can’t get enough of it so i wanted to include it. i love the relationships, the james/remus/sirius/lily dynamics are all so interesting and overall a good long haul marauder fic following them through hogwarts/the first war.

Source codes series by flourescentgrey

rating: explicit. warnings include dubious ethics/morality, consent issues, sexually transmitted diseases.

In 1993, Remus Lupin figures out how to escape from Azkaban.

i just finished this. it was very very dark. but it was so good. it kinda fucked me up for a day or so just the extent of the real world parallels, the dark nature of the plot, and the angst angst angst. there are a lot of dubious ethics in this one. that being said it was worth the read and very well written.

Dear Your Holiness by MollyMaryMarie

rating: explicit. warnings include implied/referenced suicide, childhood trauma, childhood sexual abuse, conversion therapy, eating disorders, racism.

During the week of his father's funeral, Sirius Black meets an unusual priest and offers to help write Orion Black's eulogy. At the same time, he's started texting a mysterious bass player from a pop-punk band that he accidentally swapped phones with. Eventually, the conversations between the two start to blur together and Sirius has trouble trying to decide which one he's falling for the hardest.

priest!remus. this one was hot and it was fun and i loved it. you need to read.

Inked by drunkonturpentine

rating: mature

Remus Lupin is doing just fine, thank you: he's a fully functioning adult, business at his flower shop is steady, and he even has a vague approximation of a social life. But when the vacant building next door becomes a tattoo parlor run by the sought-after, larger-than-life Sirius Black, Remus's carefully constructed world is turned on its head, forcing him to reexamine his past, present, and future.

that’s the art of getting by by sarewolf

rating: mature

“What do you want me to do?” Remus says, tiredly. All he wants is to curl up on his bed. Smoke a pack of cigarettes. Get drunk. He can’t stop looking at Harry.

“Remus...” Dumbledore is gentle. Remus hates when he has that tone. Hates that he knows it will hurt. “There is no one else left.”

A bitter laugh escapes him. “So you’ll curse the poor thing with a werewolf for a guardian?”

a classic :)

on another ocean (WIP) by colgatebluemintygel

rating: explicit

“You want me to come with you on the holiday that you specifically booked for you and your girlfriend?” “Ex-girlfriend,” Sirius corrects. Remus looks at Sirius searchingly, and once again, several emotions flicker across his face; only this time, his expression lands on something like hope. “Yeah. Okay.” or, Sirius is dumped by his girlfriend and drags his best friend on a holiday across Europe. And somewhere between Berlin clubs, Parisian boulevards, and Transylvanian villages, they fall into each other.

i am simply a girl and a girl who is an absolute SUCKER for pining sirius!!! ugh him being absolutely oblivious to remus’ clear feelings back!!! help me!!! im also a slut for slutty remus i love that the string bean can pull

** wading in waist-high water by colgatebluemintygel

rating: explicit

Remus is a PhD student and hobbyist baker who finds himself adrift following his father’s death. On a whim, he enters the Great British Bake Off and is swept up in a flurry of curdled custard, shrunken souffle, and under-proved dough. Remus expects to be challenged and to embarrass himself on public television. What he doesn’t account for are the friendships he develops with the other contestants and the deep connection he forms with his teenage crush, Sirius Black: charming ex-boy band member and Bake Off host.

or,

Sirius groans, dropping his head back into his hands. “It’s the dough,” he mumbles into the skin of his palms. “It’s the kneading. It’s his hands. They’re obscene.”

Lily laughs. “They are a bit, aren’t they?”

GBBO!!! this fic is pure comfort to me, i love the character dynamics--sirius and lily as hosts have a soft spot in my heart, remus’ chaos and the adorable adorable flirtation between r/s. i love.

A Bird At Your Door by moongoblin

rating: not rated

A shiver trembles through Sirius, racing up his spine, and he blames the crisp air. Remus leans closer, and his lips are parting-- and Sirius shrieks as a chunk of wet, numbing snow is rubbed into his cheek. He squirms beneath him, twisting his head away, but Remus only presses him harder into the glacial ground.

When Remus sits back, Sirius glowers darkly, using his freed arm to wipe his face with his sleeve. He can't quite remember how to breathe, and Remus is still over him, their legs tangled and bent at odd angles.

"You were a lot nicer to me when you were sick." Sirius says.

"I was weak." Remus smiles, and the warmth from his body fades as he gets to his feet. "Don't get used to it."

Of pub quizzes, old films, Chinese takeaways, broken arms, and impassioned discussions of literature: Remus is confusing, and Sirius is just trying to figure him out.

again. i live for s being obsessed with r. i can’t get enough of it. especially when he can’t figure out quite why. i love the begrudging friendship they form in this one.

#i will go back and add more commentary later because rn i am lazy :)#<3 #wolfstar #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #sirius black x remus lupin #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fic rec #rec list #fic rec #mauraders fic recs

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mostthingskenobi · 4 months

Text

CASSIAN'S RECKONING - Chapter 14: The Spoils

CHAPTER SUMMARY: We've been going hard for 13 chapters. Let's slow down and enjoy something a little gentler.

I just want to take a moment to say thank you to everyone reading this fic. I still can't believe even one person reads my stories 💜 Thank you for your comments, your messages on social media, and your time. I know reading fics is a choice and I feel so deeply grateful for each and every one of you 💜

READ THE FIC ON AO3

THIS IS A WHUMPY FIC W/GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS ON AO3.

——————–

CHAPTER 14: THE SPOILS

Jyn managed a few good hours of rest before she was paged to one of the ship’s ready-rooms. There she met with General Draven and Mon Mothma, handing over the data tape she’d confiscated from the IT-O interrogator droid. The Intelligence chiefs debriefed her, wanting to know every detail of Rogue One’s rescue mission, the state in which they found Andor, and if there was any cross-reference intel connected to Princess Leia’s presence on the Death Star. Jyn told them everything she knew, which wasn’t much. After she’d been dismissed but before she reached the exit, Mon Motha stopped her. The senator gestured to the data tape Draven was handing to an aide. “I’m afraid to watch it,” she said, her voice tense.

Jyn didn’t know how to reply so she remained silent.

“What can you tell me? To prepare myself?” Mothma’s tone remained quiet, as though she didn’t want others to overhear.

“I can’t really say. I didn’t look at the tape.” Erso set her teeth. “All I know is what I saw in person when we entered the cell where they were holding Cassian. If that’s anything to go by, I hope you have a strong stomach.”

Mothma’s piercing gaze narrowed and became troubled. “The horrors are endless,” she whispered under her breath. She straightened her shoulders, quickly recovering her poise. “When next you see Commander Andor, please pass on my wishes for his quick recovery.”

Jyn fought to tamp down the frustrating feeling that her Alliance cohorts did too, little too late for Cassian.

She left the ready-room and realized she didn’t know where to go next. For the first time she had nowhere to be. Just as she settled on getting herself a cup of coffee, her name came over the intercom once again, this time paging her to the medical ward. Worry hastened her step, fearing that Cassian had taken a turn for the worse.

The same 2-1B medical droid that had forced her to leave the day before met her in the corridor just outside the quarter. “Lieutenant Erso, thank you for coming. Please follow me.”

She had to hurry to keep up with the large machine as it rolled down the ward’s center aisle. They approached Cassian’s bed, which was surrounded by a heavy white curtain. The droid held it aside and allowed her to enter. Cassian was awake and looking brighter than he had the day before. He was surprised to see her. “Jyn, what are you doing here?”

She was a little taken aback by the situation. “I was paged.” Both rebels looked to the droid.

“I asked Lieutenant Erso here to assist with your treatment, Commander. I have observed your friendship and it is clear to me that you find her presence reassuring. I thought perhaps you would be more tolerant of the procedure with a friend to comfort you.”

Silence followed as the three of them looked back and forth, no one more confused than Jyn.

“Have I done wrong?” the droid finally ventured. “I realize now that perhaps Lieutenant Erso’s presence embarrasses you.”

Cassian’s gaze held Jyn’s for a long time before he softly replied, “I don’t feel embarrassed in front of Jyn.”

The corner of her mouth pulled up into a sheepish smile.

“Very good,” 2-1B said.

“What do you need me to do?” Jyn asked.

The droid spun to face her. “The Commander has a particularly trying wound on his left eye. Study of the laceration indicates it was made with a hot blade, is that correct, sir?”

Cassian swallowed thickly. “Yes.” His voice was hardly audible.

Jyn felt her blood grow cold. Every day she learned a new reason to hate the Empire.

“If the wound remains untreated, it may heal in a way that prevents the Commander’s eyelid from closing properly. The procedure is a fifteen to twenty minute acute bacta wash, but he finds the method unsettling. If you could simply be by his side, perhaps hold his hand or talk to him as a distraction, the time would pass more quickly. Can you do this?”

Jyn was surprised by the innocence of the request. “Of course.” She turned to Cassian and pointed to the bed. “Can I sit here?”

He shifted over, making room for her. “I’m sorry you had to be bothered with this.”

She pulled his hand into hers. “Don’t apologize to me.”

Once again, the droid lowered Cassian’s bed and began the procedure.

The man’s body instantly changed. When the bacta mist began he practically crippled Jyn’s hand and his chest visibly inflexed. She hadn’t known what to expect but she understood this was more serious than she originally thought. Pain wasn’t crushing Cassian; it was fear. Whatever Tarkin had done, the long-term injuries were more than skin deep. She placed her other hand in the center of his chest. “Breathe, Cassian,” she soothed. “Focus on my hand. Try and make it go up and down with your breath.” She saw his jaw muscles tighten as he tried to get himself under control. The veins in his neck began to show as all his muscles contracted. His reactions were intensifying, not reducing.

“2-1B?” Jyn asked softly. “Can you stop for a moment?”

“Of course.”

The mist ceased and she gently wiped the moisture from Cassian’s lashes with her thumb. “Look at me.” The blood had drained from his face; even his lips were pale. But he met her gaze. “You’re OK.” She waited for the panic to leave his eyes. “We’re almost done.” She laced her fingers between his and started massaging his palm. After a moment, she glanced down and suddenly froze, realizing his skin was covered in scars. “Does this hurt?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, it’s healed.”

She started up again. “I want you to put all your focus right here on where our fingers are touching.”

He nodded nervously before laying his head back and closing his eyes. With a look, Jyn told the droid to restart the treatment. Cassian’s grip tightened, but eventually he calmed down and loosened his hold. “That’s good,” Jyn encouraged. “Just keep your focus right here.” She continued massaging his fingers, palm, wrist, forearm. He began to ease into her touch. “Mon Mothma sends you well wishes,” she said casually.

Cassian snorted. “Oh really?”

“She hopes you have a ‘quick recovery.’”

“You have friends in high places now,” he teased, his voice betraying his tenseness. “General Syndula and Mon Mothma. You’re a regular VIP.”

“Yeah, you better watch out. Don’t cross me or I’ll have Mothma lecture you to death.”

Cassian actually smiled.

“We are done,” 2-1B interrupted. “Excellent work, both of you.”

The droid handed Jyn a towel that she used to dry Cassian’s eyes. As she wiped the bacta away she saw the gash had been reduced to a thin white line. “That’s remarkable,” she said in awe as she caressed the scar.

All Cassian could think about was how her thumb absentmindedly lingered over his lips.

“Yes, the wound will continue to heal over the next twenty-four hours. You’ll still have a mild scar, Commander, but at least now the burn will no longer tighten and disfigure your eyelid.”

“That’s wonderful news,” he replied darkly. Glancing at the droid he realized he had been rude. “Thank you for asking Jyn to help, 2-1B.” His tone was sincere. “It was a good idea.”

“You are most welcome. Now please get some rest. The doctors are planning to release you sometime very soon.”

“I suppose that means you want me to leave,” Jyn interjected.

“Yes, please, Lieutenant.”

Before she rose, she placed her hand on Cassian’s chest once more and gave him a reassuring pat.

He gripped her hand and held it in place, his expression serious. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She squeezed his fingers. “Happy to help.”

Then she got up and allowed the droid to lead her out.

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE INTERROGATION" - Cassian knew a debrief was a necessary evil.

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

——————–

READ IT ON AO3- Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 “The Detritus”

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

REACH CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 “The Reprieve”

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 "The Spoils"

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 "The Rogues"

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 “The Hologram”

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

#cassian #cassian andor #andor #jyn #jyn erso #jyn erso fanfiction #jyn erso fic #jyn and cassian #cassian andor fic #cassian andor fanfiction #rebelcaptain fic #rebelcaptain fanfic #rebelcaptain #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #rogue one fic #mon mothma

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mylittleredgirl · 11 months

Text

♡ dear rare pair creator ♡

thank you for creating something for me! i hope you're excited about whatever we matched on.

i'm pretty easily delighted, so i'm sure i will enjoy whatever you create. i'm including likes/dislikes and a few prompt ideas below in case they are useful to your process, but i LOVE being surprised by things i did not consider, so if you have another idea, please run with it!

general likes/dislikes are the same as on the exchange request, broken out into bullet points for easier reading:

general things I love:

happy/hopeful ending

episode-related fic

canon divergence

fix-its

friends to lovers

new or deepening relationship

pre-ship friendship/ust

pining

hurt/comfort

healing and recovery

reuniting after time apart

working through complications (e.g. working together while having a relationship, emotional baggage, traumas inflicted by canon, etc)

including other canon characters in the fic

polyamory dynamics

5 times

all ratings are welcome.

kinks enjoyed

soft dom/sub

praise kink

edging

aliens made them do it (or local canon equivalent)

overindulgence

masturbation

body worship (especially related to body image/weight gain/aging)

i have never said no to a quality blow job or hand job fic

sweet i-love-you sex works for me too!!

DNWs:

permanent character death

hurt no comfort

crossovers (except within extended canon universe, e.g. across star trek shows)

historical AUs

supernatural AUs where the characters are werewolves, etc (supernatural elements like telepathy/psychic powers/soulmates are fine)

vampires and zombies (ghosts and other canon-typical cryptids are ok!)

non-canon nicknames

bashing of characters or canon past relationships (except sam carter’s collection of questionable exes on SG-1, i can live with that).

🛸 the x-files

i fell back in love with late-season x-files this year! doggett/reyes was my fic writing origin story, and i am fully back on my bullshit with those two. i also LOVE the dynamic of the three agents in season nine, as people and friends, and it would be so interesting to explore as lovers. random prompt ideas:

john gets knocked around a lot — so what if it's monica's turn to be hurt/in danger on a case, and john's turn to find her or care for her afterward?

doggett/scully/reyes would be so complicated and interesting!! scully learning to trust anyone except mulder; how would it feel for john to spend time around william; there's a good chance this isn't monica's first poly rodeo, but what about the other two... etc etc any little bit about their dynamic would be fun to play with.

the real prompt for the ot4 would be "okay, but for real, how do they not kill each other?" but in a fun way.

🛰 babylon 5

this show is an old, old fave, so anything you write will feel like seeing beloved old friends again. pre-series, during, or post-series are all great, and i'm a fan of canon divergence! most of these characters get pretty traumatized by the narrative, and their relationships could be understandably fucked up as a result, but i like it when characters are good and loving at their core -- even if it looks messy while they figure themselves out.

i would love any fix-it that saves talia, with any combination of people involved

did lyta and talia know each other as young telepaths/psi cops interns?

for sinclair/sakai: i LOVE a reunion-of-exes-but-now-it's-right ship soooo much. anything along their journey, including a potential future where she goes with him to minbar or they otherwise reunite again, would be fun to read!

(note: i have read "to dream in the city of sorrows," so if you know it and want to use it as a backdrop for a sinclair/sakai future fic that's fine, but i'm NOT attached and would also love to see your canon divergence of choice!)

👽 stargate sg-1

clone sam/jack: i love it best when these two are still themselves, working through some angst and alienation from both their past and their new lives, but also with hope for a sweet future together. there's such a good opportunity for tension between what they were and what they are, both personally and for their relationship.

what's something that used to be normal, but feels so different now? (e.g. if one of them is in danger or injured... but could be anything!)

after they survive high school, what's next? when do their lives start to feel like their own?

janet fraiser/daniel jackson: these two often fall together very easily in the background of sam and jack fics, but they have lots of fun complications of their own (their professional lives; daniel's past; janet raising a traumatized child...), and they have so much potential to be good and loving and maybe a little snarky together.

heroes canon divergence where she survives but it’s a close thing — how does that impact them (either pre-relationship or established)?

something set off-world, since janet so rarely gets to travel through the gate...

👾 jake 2.0

this is an extremely niche pairing and so you are definitely not here to write this, but i love jake and diane sooooo much. if, by some rare pair miracle, you have seen this show (!!) i would adore ANYTHING about them!!

⚾️ deep space nine

i love this floating bicycle wheel in space and everyone inside it so much!!

julian/ezri: the canon execution of this pairing was not great, but somehow i still really ship it. it's complicated, there's war trauma, there's joining trauma, but i think they could recover together and be friends and lovers for real. i'll take anything from silly fluff to a messy deep dive, totally up to you.

what if the war has lasted longer, and it had taken longer for them to get together?

they could do with some shenanigans i think

miles/keiko/kira: there's so much potential here for fun and healing and cultural exchange, and at the end of the day, i just want kira to keep her new family.

during the series: what if they just keep delaying kira's move-out after the baby is born...

anything about getting the family (the whole ds9 family or just this family!) back together post-series

jadzia dax/lenara kahn: truly the closest we get to a canon soulmate au. i love them and want them to be happy 😭.

what if lenara was telling the truth, and just needed more time?

(note: i haven't read the ds9 post-series novels, but if you have and want to use them, i'm happy to memory beta anything i need to know to appreciate the fic!)

✨ voyager

b'elanna/kes: i believe that b'elanna loves and wants gentleness, even if she doesn't know what to do with it at first. i also adore kes as a character. her kindness! her powers, and how she is both drawn toward them and a little scared of them! her brief and vibrant life!

kes has no preconceptions about klingons, so how does that impact how b'elanna sees herself?

anything at all to do with kes's developing powers (and maybe how b'elanna reacts to them...?)

🍻 cheers

diane chambers/sam malone: this couple is an absolute disaster, but i would like them to annoy each other til death do they part. ideas:

how do they support each other (well or very badly) in their ongoing mental health/addiction challenges?

what if they stayed in touch on her writing retreat and/or she came back as promised?

if they did get married, diane would co-own the bar and i'm sure she would have ideas about what to do with it...

thank you again!! i hope this was useful and not overwhelming. you are totally welcome to toss it out and surprise me 💕 anonymous asks are turned on for this account if you have follow-up questions.

#dear author #rare pair exchange

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aetherith · 1 year

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Here is your card for Bad Things Happen Bingo. Happy writing!

Behold! I'm doing a BTHB card after I... never finished my first one. Please read the rules and info before submitting a request!

RULES/INFO:

I am prone to unexpected and infrequent hyperfixation changes. When this happens, it becomes extremely hard for me to find motivation to write for my previous hyperfixation; all I want to write about is my new one. If this were to happen, any prompt submissions for my previous hyperfixation will go void. I will reblog this post with edits made to announce this change. I’m really sorry if you sent in a submission and this happens, I can’t really control it as much as I wish I could. With that said, my current hyperfixation is The Owl House and my favorite character in it, Hunter (but you already know this if you’ve been here for a while). Until I experience another hyperfixation change, I will only be accepting submissions for TOH. Additionally, while I am totally fine writing about and including any and all TOH characters in my work, I would highly prefer if Hunter was involved in some way. This will allow me to be more motivated to finish the prompt and enjoy writing it more!

I will be accepting submissions for prompts! You can be as simple or detailed as you would like, ranging from “[Insert Prompt] with [Insert Characters]” to describing every plot beat and character interaction that takes place. I don’t mind whichever you choose (though a little bit of detail is useful). You can submit via an ask or over discord. Before submitting, please look over the submission guidelines below. I will not be accepting prompts that don’t follow my rules. PS: I’m already claiming the Nightmares prompt I have an idea for that.

What I will write: This is far from an extensive list (I’d recommend relying more on the ‘might write’ and ‘won’t write’ sections to determine what’s okay for a submission, since I will write just about anything else. For starters, I will happily write AUs, from canon divergence to everyone’s a criminal or something. I will also write for the following ships: Lumity, Huntric, and Huntlow. Keep in mind that I’m pretty terrible at writing romance, and far prefer writing platonic relationships. Speaking of, I will write for just about any platonic relationship/friendship available, even if that relationship doesn’t really exist in the canon of the show.

What I MIGHT write: This section is primarily reserved for subjects such as gore, torture, horror, and other subjects that are fairly dark and/or unsettling. Don’t be afraid of requesting prompts involving these subjects, but expect that they will be fairly mild in my writing, if not skipped over entirely. This is because I enjoy writing the rescue and recovery from these topics more than the topic itself. Additionally, if I you submit a prompt that includes something in this category that’s a bit too uncomfortable for me, know that I might alter the concept slightly to suit my tastes. If I do have to alter a prompt, I would try my best to keep it as close to the original submission as possible.

What I won’t write: Topics in this category will never be written, nor will submissions be received. In some cases, submissions with these topics might even get you blocked. I will not write NSFW (I am a minor writing about minors. What do you think). I will not write anything involving proshipping. I will not write anything dark enough to earn a fic the Explicit rating on Ao3 (so, like, REALLY dark. It would have to be extremely dark to earn this rating, since I’m comfortable writing some pretty dark stuff. There’s a limit, though). I will not write about the intentional disabling of characters. I will not write anything that isn’t on this list that I find problematic or too uncomfortable for my tastes. I have the full right to reject any prompt, though if it isn’t on this list, I will explain why.

I know that last section makes it sound scary but DONT BE AFRAID TO REQUEST THINGS! I promise I don’t bite and as long as you’re not requesting anything gross you’re chill! I’m super excited to hear your requests and to write them! Also, don’t be afraid to ask any questions! If you have a prompt you’re worried I will reject, don’t be afraid to send it in and just express that you aren’t sure it’s okay. If you do this and it isn’t a prompt I’m comfortable with, I will respond to you privately. Then, feel free to request something different. Have fun coming up with requests!

#bad things happen bingo #the owl house #writing #fanfiction

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allwaswell16 · 2 years

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A fic rec of One Direction fics that use a red herring literary device as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

-Larry-

🖤 Love After the End of the World (series) by @mercurial-madhouse

(E, 168k, post-apocalyptic au, soulmates, character injury, strangers to lovers, angst, pining, happy ending)

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

🖤 Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(E, 86k, royal au, Prince Harry, PR manager Louis, enemies to lovers, secrets, angst, plot twist, smut)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles.

🖤 Consequences by @allwaswell16

(E, 78k, amnesia au, exes to lovers, rich Harry, occupational therapist Louis, character injury, injury recovery, secrets, hospital, pining, slow burn, smut)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets.

🖤 Tied Down by HamPalpert / @ham-palpert

(E, 48k, crime au, multiple pov, nonlinear, unreliable narrator, criminal Louis, detectives, blood, apparent murder)

The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson.

🖤 And That's The Tea by @2tiedships2

(M, 27k, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, soulmates, heat, bonding, scenting, coffee shop, barista Louis, NYC, humor)

the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be

🖤 Running in the Shadows by rainbowninja167 / @rainbowninja

(E, 26k, secret agents, hidden identities, happy ending)

Louis is an MI6 agent, and Harry is...difficult to find.

🖤 You Were Mine by @brightlyharry

(E, 20k, established relationship au, marital issues, sad Louis, lonely Harry, online friendship, lack of communication, happy ending)

Harry and Louis hardly speak to each other unless they're fighting.

🖤 Don't You Call Him (What You Used To Call Me) by @lululawrence

(NR, 7k, song fic, based on Cherry, angst with a happy ending, pettiness, no smut)

He let out a soft groan and rolled over so he could cuddle into Louis and enjoy his Saturday morning lie in for a little longer, but when he reached Louis’ side of the bed he found it empty and cold, and that was when he remembered it all.

🖤 No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way by runaway_train / @runaway-train-works

(E, 3k, camboy au, camboy Louis, pwp, student Harry, pining, smut)

The one where Harry has a particular desire that only Louis can fulfill

🖤 Just the Two of Us by phdmama / @phd-mama

(E, 3k, pwp, actors, theatre, method actor Louis, virgin Louis, porn, smut)

Louis, a Method actor to the core, experiences a block in his acting. Harry helps him out.

🖤 (Help!) not just anybody by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(M, 3k, fake relationship au, accidental date, friends to lovers, pub, implied smut)

Harry unexpectedly finds himself on a date with a coworker and needs help to get out of it without hurting anyone’s feelings. Louis’s eager to step in.

🖤 bet me silently by @nouies

(E, 2k, bar au, pwp, jealousy, infidelity implied, smut)

“You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

-Rare Pairs-

🖤 Miss Missing You by harriet_vane

(M, 16k, Liam/Louis, established relationship au, post car accident, amnesia, injury recovery, angst with a happy ending)

Louis wakes up after an accident with a year of memories gone and something not quite right about his relationship with Liam.

#category rec #1dsource #trackinghome #trackinghappily #tracksintheam #nouies #phd-mama #runaway-train-works #lululawrence #brightlyharry #rainbowninja #2tiedships2 #ham-palpert #absoloutenonsense #mercurial-madhouse #allwaswell16

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softlystarstruck · 2 years

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✩ softly reading, jan 3 - 9 ✩

in which i list every single drarry fic i’ve read this week in hopes that you, dear reader, find a fic you like too!

✩ - a fave | 🔥 - hot | 🌼 - fluff

spotlight rec

✩ Lights and Candy, Turning Prettily by anon [T, 12k]

In which Draco Malfoy pretends to enjoy hot chocolate, Pansy Parkinson quotes the Grinch, Greg Goyle enjoys canapés, and Blaise Zabini says what everyone's thinking. [H/D Mistletoe Exchange 2021]

why i rec this: what a fun christmas fic!! i love both draco and harry in this one, and this is exactly my favorite kind of miscommunication– where the stakes aren’t that high, but the boys are really just Putting Themselves Through It. read for the sweet background pairings, sneaky hermione and pansy, and idiots falling in love

longer reads

✩ Nobody Pinch Me by @dracoladon, @lazywonderlvnd [E, 17k] 🔥

A mysteriously locked door keeps Harry and Draco trapped in the room where they're serving detention.

✩ Something I Don’t Want to Stop by @lqtraintracks [E, 16k] 🔥

It's Harry and Draco's eighth year, the Houses have been all but demolished in favor of unity, and they're being forced to room together. How ever will they cope? [2013 H/D Smoochfest]

✩ In Which Harry is Magnetic North and Draco Is An Idiot by bryoneybrynn [T, 13k]

For as long as he can remember, Draco’s been bringing fake dates to his family’s annual Yuletide celebration in order to evade his mother’s matchmaking. This year, Potter’s posing as his pretend boyfriend. But as the party gets underway, it gets unclear who’s playing who, who’s pretending what, who’s not pretending at all, and what the game really is. Confused? Yeah, so is Draco…

The Body Keeps Score by @amorsindolor [E, 13k]

Draco cries during sex. A story about touch, intimacy, and the healing we find through mutual trust and love.

Polar Night by hereticalvision [E, 12k]

Still in recovery from their break-up, Harry and Draco must travel through the arctic conditions of Svalbard to catch the last Death Eater still at large.

short & sweet

✩ Bid (if you dare) by zuzallove [E, 7.7k]

The Ministry decides to hold a charity auction to collect money for the victims of the war. The items up for bid? Dates. Dates with Ministry employees. The catch? You have to win a duel before claiming your prize. Draco Malfoy is up for bid. Harry Potter is not okay with that.

✩ I Think I Want to Marry You by @phdmama [T, 6.2k]

5 times Harry Potter asks Draco Malfoy to marry him and Draco doesn't answer. And then the one time he does.

✩ Please Do Not Finger the Peaches by OutstandingMoralFiber [E, 4.2k] 🔥

It all started with a sign: “Please do not finger the peaches.” Little did Draco know that sign would mark the beginning of a friendship…and perhaps more?

To Be Honest by @shealwaysreads [M, 4.2k]

Malfoy’s not fucking anyone. Harry’s curious. He’s just curious. [Gay Juice Secret Santa Exchange]

Basement Level 9 by @fw00shy [M, 2k]

Draco was behind the bomb that blew up Level 10, though they didn't talk about it. [Gay Juice Secret Santa Exchange]

✩ shoot your shoot by rainnorwind [M, 1.8k] 🔥

Harry needs a (technically not nude) model for his photography class. Draco just wants to read his book.

art gallery

✩ May I Sit? by @fantalf [G, art piece] 🌼

Harry simply asked, “May I sit?” [H/D Erised 2021]

✩ Good Boy by CelestialCat [E, comic] 🔥

Harry is Draco's good boy. Always such a good boy.

✩ Seeing Red by CelestialCat [T, comic]

There’s no use running from fate. [H/D Erised 2019]

#softly reading january 2022 #drarry fic rec #drarry rec list #drarry recs #softly reading

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thedrarrylibrarian · 3 years

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hi love!! i recently finished both my marked for later and tbr - any recs for drarry fics that are long and have a bookish feel? id greatly appreciate it <33

Hello to you too, Love! I have two other Long Fic lists that you should check out as well, but if you're looking for something long, then let me recommend to you Long Fics 3!

Long Fics 3

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by @writcraft (65,636 words, rated E)

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

Breathe Me by @kedavranox (73,661 words, rated E)

Since the singular incident of being a Horcrux for many years has left Harry with a sensitivity to Dark magic, Harry begins training with Jacob, a Wizard who lives in New York, using this sensitivity to his advantage to cleanse magical spaces of Dark magic. After a year of training, Draco Malfoy shows up, wanting to learn from Jacob as well, and unexpectedly the two men grow a bond, both magical and physical. But Jacob’s sudden death leaves Harry floundering and growing increasingly dependent on drugs and sex to avoid his problems. After his brief and tumultuous affair with Draco ends, Harry begins a life of travel, avoiding returning home permanently and continuing his drug habit. He flits from job to job, from place to place, never settling down for a moment, until, years later, Harry is called back to England by his friends to help Draco find his way out of a cursed Manor.

Running on Air by @tinyhistory (74,875 words, rated T)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (83,103 words, rated E)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place.

This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi (93,391 words, rated T)

'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by @greaseonmymouth (96,144 words, rated T)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Light up the Night by saras_girl (98,098 words, rated M)

This year, despite his better judgement, Harry’s love life is going off with a bang. Advent fic 2019.

Love and Other Unsafe Medical Practices by @tedahfromtayla (116,854 words, rated E)

Love is a lot like surgery: sometimes you have to take risks to succeed and most times there are unexpected side effects.

Harry is back in a hospital room after an Auror sting gone wrong and nobody is amused at this point. It's starting to become somewhat of a familiar scene for Ron and Hermione. This time his healer is one Draco Malfoy so it's actually a /little/ funny when something goes wrong during recovery.

By the Grace by @letteredlettered (139,812 words, rated T)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

The Ordeal of Being Known by @lou-isfake (146,645 words, rated M)

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It's obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco's never been able to back down from a challenge... especially from Potter.