@bunny-king HERE! Before you drive me nuts about your birthday gift. I was hoping to save this till your birthday but since you’ve been driving me up the wall for details. This is all you’re getting till your birthday.
No quirk au where Izuku and Katsuki are next-door neighbors. Friends since day one and they are 15 here.
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The sun has gone and night settled on this summer day. As the full moon rise and the stars took their place two boys turned off their lights and sat in front of their windows. Looking across they could see the other and couldn’t help the smiles that came about.
Since they couldn’t directly talk to each other, they decided to communicate through morse code with flashlights. A ritual that happened every night since they could remember.
And like that both were stuck on what to say next. Recounting the day was usually their norm, but it felt out-of-placed for their own reasons.
‘Shit! Fuck! God why! Damn it Izuku why do you have to look so fuckin angelic under the moonlight!’
Katsuki for his part was left rather speechless from his crush’s appearance like he usually is.
‘Fuck! I really just want to tell him! Tell him…tell him that I want to be more than friends…that I need to be more than just childhood friends.’
Mostly though, today he just felt the need to finally say those words that he always wanted to say. The ones he kept in his heart since they were twelve. The ones he was afraid would send his best friend away.
*Is something wrong Kacchan?*
‘Heh. He always was ready to lend a friendly ear.’
‘As long as you’re here.’
*Ok then! Today was really fun!*
*Yea, it was.*
*It was nice to just go where our feet took us. No destination. No plans. No worries. It was relaxing in a way.*
Izuku continued to lead the conversation as Katsuki was content in just watching him. His expression changing with the topic remembered and making motions with his hands in his excitement. Katsuki knew he could watch him all day and never get bored.
*You’re quiet today. Are you sure you’re okay?*
Honestly he was prepared to tell another lie. To continue as if his feelings for his friend could still be hidden. Yet he must’ve hit his limit because the next thing he knew he was turning the flashlight on and off in a rhythm he has practiced everyday.
An AU Outlaw Queen story, from before everything, really.
In the Enchanted forest, a few years into Regina’s marriage with Leopold, she meets the cheeky thief, Robin, as he is robbing the castle. Her loneliness and the thief’s desperate need to feed his son, has them forming an unlikely friendship. But when things develop and Regina ends up with his baby in her belly, they are faced with an impossible choice.
Do they choose for Regina to stay with her abusive husband, which despite that fact is by far the safest choice, but also the hardest. Or do they run for it, making Regina as much of an outlaw as Robin. And with the spell Regina’s mother has put on her, to make sure she stays with the king, is running even an option?
“…The rabbits are so soft, so small, that it’s hard to gauge the appropriate amount of pressure. It would be too easy to break them, he realizes, and knows he wants nothing to do with them. Before he withdraws, however, Genos pets them one last time, deliberately letting his fingers brush over Saitama’s at the end of his stroke. It’s only a slight touch, but he pulls away immediately, feeling a brief, illicit thrill for what he’s just done.
“You did fine,” Saitama laughs again, apparently oblivious to the touch….”
twenty one pilots:dark, wooden floors. old, almost-empty wood houses. frosty mornings. half-melted candles. dried salt and sand on seashells brought home from the beach weeks ago. old grand pianos. fingers aching when you've cut the nails too short. mirrors in places too dark to use. flickering yellow lights with pull-chains and no covers. the smell of books. the bite of the cold. hiding from your family. thick sweaters.
regional at best:late spring fading into summer. long grass. papercuts. three-quarter-sleeved shirts with holes and tears in them. bike rides to the ballfields. middle school. having too many notebooks. homemade popsicles. brick walls. glue residue on your fingers. writing your own poetry. hiding it from everyone. writing your name in a tree. cassette tapes.
vessel:the color sky blue. silver ink. long car rides through sunny mountains to a city. self-help. family reunions. gold rings. outdoor concerts. roller coasters. long, hard cries. holding hands. first kisses. sitting in the dark. learning a new instrument. writing not quite poetry but not quite non-prose. little cuts on your hands you don't remember getting. driving through thunderstorms. smiling through pain. forgetting how to feel happy, then finding it again.
blurryface:coming home from college. late-night walks down roads. trying to hide your shaking. tattered notebooks with soft pages. headaches. bitter tea at two in the morning. playing your music too loud. new attempts at self-help that even you don't believe in. red pens. smudged ink. the smell of sharpies. crying in front of an old friend. lying on the floor for no reason. cold pizza eaten alone. trying to remember how it was to be okay.