that moment when you realize you will never be that beautiful

GEMINI: It’s really easy for people to criticize the choices you’ve been forced to make when they’ve never worn shoes as tattered as yours. The ground never seems rocky to anyone until they’ve personally experienced its brutality, and you’ve been braving the blood and the bruises for years without complaint. It’s okay to feel proud of yourself, for that. It’s okay to acknowledge the things that have made you who you are, even if those things haven’t always been beautiful or easy to talk about. Everything’s easier to appraise once it’s been given a voice.

CANCER: Stop convincing yourself that you don’t deserve the treasure chests that keep arriving on your doorstep. You’ve spent so long attempting to find the reason in your misfortune that you’ve incorrectly deduced that the only commonality between every pitfall is yourself. But you haven’t been factoring in how cruel the universe is, how angry it gets whenever something with a warm heart tries to touch what’s frozen. You’re finding all of this gold and compassion because it’s finally time for you to get what you’ve been giving to others. Take it.

LEO: You know, more so than anybody else, that it’s time to let go of the things that have hurt you, but there’s no easy way to say that you don’t know how to get rid of people that you’ve held so close to your chest. And maybe this says something about how much you try to give to others, all of the parts of yourself you’ve sacrificed for the comfort of soon-to-be-strangers. But the thing about leeches is that they drain you more often than they rid you of disease, especially in this season. And maybe this isn’t a leech yet, but it could become one, with time. Don’t let it.

VIRGO: It’s easy for you to ignore how much people truly care for you when you don’t feel as though you deserve it. The difficulty with this arises whenever you need help, as you’ve never learned how to ask for anything. So you let yourself feel distant from open palms and words of encouragement because you know you can do this yourself. While that’s true, you’re more than strong enough to conquer what’s been eating at you, it’s also true that the love that keeps getting shoved under your door is yours for the taking. It’s okay to pick it up. It’s okay to save it.

LIBRA: You’ve been peering out the window, comparing your reflection to everybody that passes by, and you seem to be forgetting that there’s a mirror right behind you. The only person that you need to measure yourself against is the person you were yesterday. I know it’s frustrating that progress too often moves like honey, and it’s impossible to see growth when you’re always with the thing that’s growing, but slow-motion is still motion. You may not be the person you want to be right now, but you will be. So turn around. Say hello to them.

SCORPIO: You were born with a shovel in your hand and you’ve been spending every moment since then dredging up the past. This is another way of saying that you have a lot of corpses buried in your backyard and despite the passage of time you’re afraid that they’re going to get up and walk away. Maybe come back as ghosts and haunt you, a reminder of what you’ve had to leave behind. But just because you’ve always had the tools to create self-doubt, it doesn’t mean you have to keep them on you at all times. It’s never too late to invest in a toolshed or try out gardening.

SAGITTARIUS: Have you found what you’ve been searching for, yet? Or, maybe a better question is “do you know what you’re looking for?” Because you’ve become an expert at donating your energy to a cause, any cause at all, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s all a distraction. If you’re struggling in the deep end and aren’t comfortable saying so. If you’re calling yourself a lifeguard because every atom of you is begging to be pulled out of the water. Baby, you’re so much more than a body that tries its best to save people. You’re worth more than what you’ve dragged out of the pool.

CAPRICORN: So many people that you care about have been falling into bad luck recently and it makes you feel so powerless. It’s as though you’re a minor character in your own life and you have to just sit back and watch the protagonist fuck things up in order to learn a lesson, or something like that. And I’m not going to lie and say that you’re able to have full control over every aspect of your life, because you never will. But remember that, despite all of this, every little thing you do to combat the world’s anger is a brave sort of rebellion. You are more than enough to the people you love.

AQUARIUS: There are a lot of people that you regret letting into your life and the memory of what you thought they’d be is making it hard for you to get out of bed. It’s okay to be sad, your feelings have only ever known the taste of validity, but know that nobody has the ability to ruin you. Someday they’re all going to regret setting fire to your bark when they realize how miraculous your leaves are in the summer heat, dancing in the breeze of late-night drives with people that want to keep you safe. Repeat after me: I am not damaged. I am not damaged. I am not damaged.

PISCES: I know that it’s hard to put faith in the moments of happiness you’ve been experiencing lately when so much of your life has been spent checking the clock and turning down the music, but you are not an airport or a train station. You’re a destination. And I know that you’re still getting used to the idea of being the subject of a travel brochure and that’s okay. It takes time to become comfortable with anything, even the good. Especially the good. The June air is buzzing and this is your time to shine. Don’t waste it.

ARIES: So, some eras of your life have been ending recently and that’s a little scary. Especially since you worked so hard to get what you’re holding. But they’re just making way for better adventures and happier moments and the only thing left for you to do is embrace that. Welcome change with open arms and it’ll be kind to you. I know there’s a voice in the back of your head saying “what if it all gets bad again” but you need to ignore that voice because it isn’t you. You are the person that’s endured and withstood and kept going. You’re the one that matters, here.

TAURUS: It’s been becoming more and more clear to you that out of all the people you’ve met and interacted with, there are very few you’d consider to be a “friend.” And I know that sometimes it feels like that’s all you’re ever going to get, but it isn’t. One’s hometown is, thankfully, never representative of the world in its entirety and there’s still so much you have left to see. Still so many souls that you’ll discover in the most mundane of places. You just have to keep your eyes open. I know it’s easier to sleep through the sadness, but you’re stronger than that urge, aren’t you? You are.
melodrama (track by track)

green light: the haunting revelation of being free after the break up. but you don’t know what to do with that freedom. it’s frightening and beautiful and inspiring and it makes you lonely and excited all at once. you want to dance with friends and scream out the car window but you hit every red light just at the mere thought of ever moving on.

sober: depression and anxiety is wasting away your youth. you live for the weekend to come. you live for any kind of buzz. you sleep until the bright orange afternoon creeps into your window. but the night is always there for you. the parties, the confetti and the blue lights that rain down, is all worth it in the moment. until you realize you’re all alone.

homemade dynamite: all your decisions and all your actions are self destructive. every bottle of liquor you finish and every house you destroy, you know it’s a form of self hate. but it’s how you cope through all the bullshit.

the louvre: a evening drive through the city with your lover. the day is warm and the tar on the road is hot. the window is down and the air feels liberating. you want to love them forever. but it’s a sunday and your stomach sinks and nothing lasts forever. and now your at a house party months later and everyone is high and the music is booming and you see your ex across the room and you feel like you know no one there and you want to hide away so you leave and no one notices anyways.

liability: you blame the break up on all your insecurities. you blame it all on the way you’d call them every night crying. you think that maybe your sadness is contagious. you should’ve known to sterilize yourself from the start.

hard feelings/loveless: you pack up everything that belonged to them and put it into a box. you practice not having their name on your tongue. you attempt to forget the taste of them. you consider holding on and staying friends, but that anger overrules and you throw that box off the highway bridge. you’re over the aching and now you moved onto the hard feelings. you want to blame them for everything. summer nights are too long. mornings are empty without their texts of “good morning” and you taste this endless nostalgia for the rest of your life. but you don’t let them see this side of you. you let them see the anger. you let them think you’re indestructible.

sober II: growing up with drama stuffed inside of you like all the drugs and alcohol you consume, is tiring. you go through the motions and you nod to their questions and laugh at their jokes. but you know that this misery and that this young love is timeless. so you continue to go through the expected motions.

writer in the dark: that hollow ache in your chest when you realize that the break up is permanent, that this feeling of loss is forever. that nervous ache as you stalk their snapchat and Instagram and any other social media outlet, trying to see if they found someone else. that obsessive need to know if they still miss you, if they still love you and need you. that sickening feeling that makes you numb as you send them text after text but they never reply.

supercut: all the memories are blurry footage winding through your head. the time you ran down the hill, drunk. the time you said “I love you.” the time you looked at them on the roof of the car while you thought “I’m gonna be with you forever..” all the memories are fast forwarding and rewinding and pausing in your head and it is perfect and it is never going to happen again.

liability (reprise): you warned them from the very start. but did you ever listen when they warned you?

perfect places: everyone has a perfect place that is their getaway. but the reason for getting away isn’t perfect. it’s ugly and damaging and it’s cold nights like this that make you realize that nothing will ever be perfect. only for the moment will it seem like a person or a place can be your sanctuary. but the feeling never goes away. remember that.

Friendship Comes First:  What (Good) Fanfiction Can Teach Us About the Romantic Subplot.

I love all forms of storytelling:  television, books, movies, you name it.  As long as it’s quality, its ripe for the picking.  

It’s so easy for me to become engrossed in the lives and psychologies of fictitious characters, to care for them as though they’re people I really know.  Which, on some metaphysical level, I suppose is true, but that’s a topic for another essay.

However, in the midst of all my possibly Asperger’s-fueled hyper-fixation and nerdery, there’s one inevitable aspect of seemingly every plot to which I will almost always role my eyes and click the fast-forward button:  the goddamned romantic subplot.

So many times have I seen the exact same variation of romantic love between fifty homogeneous couples, and each time, I failed to see the appeal:  in books, the smirking, obnoxious male love interest will woo the object of his desire through flagrant disrespect, the same toned bodies will copulate furiously on my television screens (typically at the exact same moment my parents or small siblings will walk into the room), the same vapid, flirtatious stares and generic dialogue will be exchanged. 

But where’s the basis for it?  Yes, these people are stressed to be attracted to one another to the point of obnoxiousness, but do they even like each other as individuals?  Are they even friends?  Is there any three-dimensionality to their relationship besides sizing each other up and deciding to bump uglies? 

Simply and also sadly, the answer is very rarely.  And so, it seemed to me that romance was not my cup of tea, both in the fictitious world and out of it.  Or so it seemed.  

Because it was then, at approximately seventeen, that I discovered a remarkable phenomenon that would change my life forever:  fanfiction.  

Never before had I been so enraptured in the relationships of fictional characters, and I was baffled as to why.  Yes, I’ve read a tremendous deal of fanfiction that is, in fact, book quality, but as an avid bibliophile, I was perplexed as to why I’d never been so captivated by the romantic endeavors of a published author as I was by the passion-projects of writers not much older than I was.     

After a lot of time, careful consideration, and the illuminating words of some of my fellow bloggers, however, I believe I can finally put words as to why. 


1.  Give your characters a narrative purpose (besides being The Love Interest.) 

Do you ever wonder what inspires Supernatural fans to tirelessly churn out fics about their favorite human-on-angel pairing?  I have, and this is someone who’s a proud proponent of the stuff.  

The sheer magnitude of free literature available, constantly repositing the pair in all manor of situations and walks of life, is absolutely baffling, and undeniably impressive.  Indeed, some of the best works of romantic literature – and yes, I do consider fanfiction to be a form of literature – I have ever come across were starring none other than this specific pairing:  from the infamous Twist and Shout (which I don’t recommend if you ever want to listen to Elvis Presley music, visit a beach, or feel joy ever again) to the charming Have Love, Will Travel (probably my personal favorite), some truly beautiful love stories have blossomed from a pairing that has never even been confirmed onscreen to have romantic connotations.  

Perhaps just as baffling is the other end of the spectrum:  Lisa Braeden.  Lisa, for those unfamiliar, is basically posited as the love of Dean’s life, with whom he lived for a year before being forced to give up his dream of a family life and return to full-time demon busting.  They’ve canonically kissed, had sex, shared a bed, and everything typically associated with an onscreen couple.    

Yet comparatively no fanworks exist about them.  When Lisa does appear in a fic, she is usual Castiel’s rival for Dean’s affections, or simply a hapless bystander. 

Why is this?  Well, a disillusioned observer might point to straight women’s apparent predilection towards fetishizing male homosexuality (I, for the record, am not straight myself;  I’m a proud bisexual who, thus far, has only dated women.)  I’m inclined to retort that this isn’t giving female fans nearly enough credit. 

For starters, remove all context from each relationship and examine them with a critical eye:  on the one hand, you have Castiel, Dean’s angelic savior from forty years in perdition.  Castiel is clearly fascinated with Dean, appearing in his bedroom, somewhat suggestively (advertently or otherwise) inquiring about his dreams, watching him sleep, routinely invading his personal space, and ultimately rebelling against heaven in accordance with Dean’s wishes. 

On the other hand, you have Lisa, a perfectly nice character who’s introduced as “the bendiest weekend of (Dean’s) life” and…well, that’s about it.  She’s later shown as a sort of amalgamation of Dean’s subconscious desire for a mother figure and normal life, but she, as a character, remains somewhat underdeveloped and hollow. 

You can’t expect fans to hold the two relationships to the same caliber and then cry internalized misogyny and fetishization of gay and bisexual men when they don’t.

The fact of the matter is, onscreen “friendships” are typically much more developed, much more three-dimensional, and much more ideal of what a truly epic romantic plot should be.  A character with a clear place in the narrative and three dimensional characterization all their own will almost always be more charismatic than a character who’s introduced as exclusively The Love Interest.  

This is not to say that what makes fanfiction so great is that it sexualizes or romanticizes friendship.  In fact, I’m inclined to believe it’s the other way around.  

Which brings me to my next point…

2.  Make sure your characters are friends.

It’s a romance for the ages.  A love like no other.  They’re soulmates, yin and yang, a match made in the stars.

But do they enjoy each other’s company?  Laugh at each other’s jokes?  Take part in each other’s interests?  Are they even friends?  

The sad fact of the matter is, romance and erotica are, as a whole, starved for values of friendship and camaraderie. 

This is something I realized only after my love of fanfiction took root, when I tried to return to my normal sources of adult entertainment (romance, erotica, and porn) and found them, by comparison, almost bafflingly lacking in warmth and camaraderie.  

What I think makes fanfiction so addictive is the fact that it’s built upon the established relationships of two or more characters (the Onceler and company notwithstanding) who, typically, care for one another as friends and compatriots.  

Look at some of the internet’s favorite pairings:  Dean Winchester and Castiel remain a classic.  Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers are always crowd-pleasers.  Kara Denvers and Lena Luthor are seeing a rise in popularity.  We all know Sherlock has somewhat fallen from grace, but the union of its two main characters still retains a devoted following.

This is no accident:  despite lacking onscreen confirmation, these characters have proven themselves to care for one another as more than objects of their sexual desire.  They’re friends, with relationships based in loyalty and warmth that are, unfortunately, sorely lacking in typical fictional romances.  

Once you get a taste of this brand of friendship-infused romance, in fanfiction or otherwise, it’s hard to go back.  

This isn’t just limited to quote-unquote “fanon” couples, either:  couples such as Mulder and Scully, Bones and Booth, Yuuri and Victor, and Ladybug and Chat Noir can all attribute their popularity to this strong basis in friendship, camaraderie, and mutual respect.

This is also the leading cause as to why the formerly booming 50 Shades franchise, and other arguably sexist, abusive dynamics, are struggling at the box office.  

Which reminds me… 

3.  Make sure your characters are equals. 

Unless you’re writing a Lolita-esque social commentary, it’s probably your best bet to keep your characters on fairly equal ground. 

I mean this in every sense of the word, too:  I have a difficult time getting invested in a romance when there’s a pretty blatant power imbalance, which oftentimes occurs due to the implicit sexism of the entertainment industry.

Disproportionately young actresses are assigned as love interests to much older men, such as Emma Watson’s twenty-something-year-old character lusting over a man almost twenty years her senior in Irrational Man.  

Physically mediocre or average-looking male characters are frequently pared with stunningly beautiful women who like them because they’re “nice,” fueling the existing mentality of all self-proclaimed “nice guys” who think society owes them a hot girl.

Furthermore, @popculturedetective just released an amazing video explaining the “Born Sexy Yesterday” trope, in which hopelessly naive, beautiful women are seen swooning over their more savvy male lovers.  (Found here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=0thpEyEwi80)

I love Splash and the Fifth Element as much as anybody, but both films incorporate all these tropes in ample proportions, and it’s frankly ridiculous. (On the topic of Splash, however, I’m greatly looking forward to a subversion of this trope in its remake, starring Channing Tatum as the titular merman and Julianne Belle as his human love interest.) 

On the other hand, you have fanfiction.  I’ve read numerous essays professing that fanfiction is becoming increasingly popular due to the fact that same-sex relationships tend to be implicitly devoid of these sex-based imbalances, and I’m inclined to agree.  

However, I’ve read others stating that male-male pairings tend to be so popular because male characters are typically more well-developed by writers, making it perfectly understandable that fans would be more invested in a possible romance between two characters of equal multidimensionality (see point 1) than one that is sorrowfully underdeveloped.  I’m inclined to think that this theory is even more on point.   

Because look at some of the successful onscreen relationships I listed prior:  we root for Bones and Booth’s inevitable union the same way we swoon over slowburn fanfiction, delighting in Mulder and Scully’s banter and craving their interaction.  

These are, in my opinion, some examples of straight couples done right, because they’re portrayed as friends (see the previous point), and just as importantly, as equals.  

Last, but certainly not least, the male characters in both pairings are depicted as having nothing but respect for their female compatriots, depending on their intellectual know how and not being ashamed to say so. 

A more contemporary example that gets this wrong?  Well, not to offend any fans of the pairing, but Mon-El and Kara, a la Supergirl.  Mon-El was, at the beginnings of his arc, consistently disrespectful towards Kara, putting her down and insulting her in the very same episodes in which her female compatriot – Lena Luthor – is shown vocally admiring and praising her.  

Mon-El has since improved on his behavior, but the damage is done:  I still have a difficult time seeing him as a likeable character, much less a suitable love interest for my beloved Kara.   


These are just a few recommendations, based on the ways in which my somewhat obsessive love of transformative literature (i.e. good fanfiction) have helped me as a writer and helped me view the implicit problems with mainstream romance with a more discerning and critical eye.

Here, I could provide a counterpoint with the recurring problems I’ve noticed in fanfiction, or I could go into some recomendations for writing explicitly gay and lesbian relationships.  Both of these, however, are topics worthy of another essay.

Disclaimer:  I am assuming that any and all readers are trying for an enjoyable, healthy romantic subplot with equally charismatic, consenting, and likable characters.  Dysfunctionality can be just as interesting from a literary standpoint, but again, this is a topic for another essay.


There will be essays like this published at least once every other week, so be sure to follow my blog and stay tuned for future writing advice and observations! 

Shortly after the overdose, Bob decided to tell Jack the story of why he really got put in the Stanley Cup as a baby.  It was Bob’s way of thanking the cup.

“After I won my first cup,” he told Jack, “I realized I’d achieved my dream, and I had married this amazing woman, but something still felt like it was missing.  I wanted to be a father.”  He told Jack how he and Alicia had tried to have a baby, but it just wasn’t happening.  As the months dragged on with more of the same, they started to get worried.  

“And even when you were worrying you’d never truly be happy you managed to win the cup again, yeah?  That’s the moral of the story?” Jack snapped.  Bob shook his head, reached out to run a hand over Jack’s back, like he could smooth down his son’s frayed nerves.  

“Non, non, non, that would be a terrible moral.  Actually my stats were worse that year than when I was a rookie.  But my team was incredible, and we made it to the cup again.  And here’s where the story gets good, you see, because I’d heard all kinds of wild legends through the league about ‘cup magic’ and how sometimes it would grant wishes”

“Or turn you into a fucking penguin,” Jack scoffed.

“Well I was playing for the Canadiens at the time, so I suppose there wasn’t much risk involved, but there was a whole lot of desperate hope.So on my cup day, after everyone else left, I sat down and had a chat with it,” he gestures to the table they’re sitting at.  “Right at this kitchen table.”

“Please tell me that’s the only part of this story that happened at this table,” Jack groaned.  Bob laughed.

This story, yes.”

“Papaaaa,”  Jack picked up his bowl of cereal and pointedly continued eating without letting his food touch the table.

“Oh for God’s sake, Jack, this table has been cleaned many times since, put your food down for a bit, I’m trying to have a moment with you here.”

“Alright, alright, fine.”  Jack obediently set the bowl aside and faced his father.

“As I was saying…” Bob cleared his throat.  “I talked to the cup.  I told it I didn’t care if I ever won it again.  All I wanted was a son.  If it would give me that, I promised, I wouldn’t ask to win so much as a faceoff for the rest of my life.  And I promised that I would love my son - that I would love you - unconditionally, more than anything in the world.”

“And you won a fuckton more awards anyway.”

“But,” Bob countered, “I didn’t win the cup again until after you were born when I was with the Pens.  And so when your mother brought you onto the ice to see me, I wanted us to put you in the cup, but it wasn’t supposed to pass along some kind of hockey magic and ensure the Zimmermann dynasty or whatever the fuck ESPN likes to say, alright?  We did it as a thank you.  We wanted the cup to see what a beautiful baby we had, and to feel how incredibly loved you were.”  Bob ran a hand over Jack’s newly-cropped hair, feeling the strands against his palm, almost as soft as when he used to sit next to Bob in his high chair smashing banana all over the tray.  “I kept my promise too,”  Bob said.  “I love you.  Unconditionally.  More than anything in the world.  And your mother and I just want to help you be happy, whatever that looks like.”  He smiled warmly at his son, letting all the pride he usually kept a lid on to keep from embarrassing Jack bubble up to the surface.  Jack looked down at his hands.

“How can you not be disappointed?  Look at me.”  Jack’s shoulders hunched in, shrinking him down, and Bob pressed his hand between Jack’s shoulder blades, rubbing circles in the way that always used to put him right to sleep as a child.

“I will always be proud of you, hockey or no.  Because you know what?”  Jack chanced a glance up at his father’s face and was held by his earnest expression.  “Winning the Stanley Cup isn’t even in my top hundred favorite memories anymore.  All of my best memories are with you and your mother.”  Jack didn’t say anything in response, and Bob was learning when to give him space to process, so he stood up, bending back down to kiss his son’s forehead as he snagged the now-soggy bowl of raisin bran from in front of him.

It took a few days for Bob to get a real response from Jack, and in the meantime he just left everything to percolate.  And then one night, Bob just couldn’t seem to fall asleep.  His knee wasn’t quite hurting, but it was on that edge where it just didn’t feel settled, and Alicia had been snoring, and at the back of his head he could feel some kind of humming, like he could feel the tense air in Jack’s room.  He’d gotten himself all worked up mulling that last one over until he had to get out of bed.  He stood in front of Jack’s bedroom door, looking at the light peeking out from below the doorjamb for minutes, listening to the sounds of floorboards creaking occasionally, pages rustling, a keyboard clacking.  After he’d gotten enough of the sounds of Jack just existing on the other side of the door to calm his racing heart, he went to the living room.  

He settled into the couch with a box of crackers and a nature documentary when he heard footsteps creaking on the stairs.  At first, he was expecting Alicia coming to call him back to bed, but the footfalls were too loud for her.  Bob tried not to look surprised when Jack rounded the corner, keeping his eyes carefully trained on Animal Planet.  He held up the crackers in greeting.

“Joining your old man for a midnight snack, eh?”

“Oh.  Um, sure.”  Jack padded over to the couch and made himself comfortable next to Bob, pulling down the afghan from the back of the sofa.  They stare at the TV in silence for a long while before Jack speaks up again, quietly.  “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“So…what exactly was better than winning the cup?”

Good Girls Go Bad

Set in the 40’s. Y/N was your stereotypical girl next door, growing up in the apartment right across the hall from James Buchanan Barnes. She had always been the shy, reserved girl; she was the complete opposite of the enigmatic ladies man. Despite their proximity, she was sure that he didn’t even know she existed. What happens when they run into one another during a night out on the town? Is just one night all it really takes? 

Word Count: 3,408

Warnings: swearing, smut


Originally posted by evanstansource


You sighed, adjusting your dress as you gazed into the mirror. Even though it was still rather conservative, you couldn’t help but notice that it was more revealing than you were used to. The neckline plunged rather low, the collar fastened with a bow that drew attention to your cleavage. The waist was cinched, showing off your figure. Paired with the red heels that your friends had chosen for you, you were looking like a regular bombshell. Your friends had insisted that you go out with them tonight. You had turned them down too many times. They said that now, of all days, you had to accompany them. The newest army recruits would be shipping out tomorrow, and it was sure to be a lively night.

Keep reading

RFA + When They Realize They’re In Love

ohhh, look a headcanon/scenario post! :D this was a whole lot longer than i originally planned, but oh well!! i played around with each of their stories, so i hope you don’t mind <3 <b>you can find JAEHEE, JUMIN and 707′s under the cut! if you have any requests, feel free to shoot them my way. anyway, i hope you enjoy!


RFA + THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY’RE IN LOVE

YOOSUNG

Yoosung thinks he’s sick.

His heart starts palpitating, his palms grow sweaty and he’s so out-of-focus that he’s losing his streak on the LOLOL leadership boards. He downs a cup of coffee, glaring at his bedroom clock, which stared back with a 22:12pm in bright blue lights. It’s way too early to be feeling tired, he thinks.

He sighs, exiting the server and letting the game’s background music blast through his computer’s speakers. He places a hand to his neck, feeling for a warm temperature, only to end up confused as he realizes he’s not even remotely feverish. Worriedly, he calls her up, sure that she would know what’s up with him.

“Hey [Name],” he says, going back to his desk to take another swig of coffee. He joins another server, hoping LOLOL would help calm his nerves. Why was he always so nervous when he was talking with her? He prattles on about his supposed “symptoms” as he patiently waits to be connected to the server.

“Sounds like you’re in love,” she suddenly blurts out. He almost sprays his coffee all over his computer at those words. He can tell she’s joking. She was joking, right? Right? He tries to come up with a reply, but all that comes out of him is a strangled sound. He hears her laughing from the other end. “Ohhh, bulls-eye! Who’s the lucky person? Is it me you’ve fallen for?”

Yoosung’s eyes widen at this, and his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest and start tap-dancing on his desk. He’s stunned to a silence; his mind is racing, wondering whether or not to confirm her statement. Well, that would certainly explain why he always felt so worked up around her. Before he could even answer her question, he hears her awkward laughter on the other end of the phone.

“Hey, I was kidding! Playing some LOLOL might calm your nerves, but I suggest not staying up too late. It might actually be a fever, after all.” Yoosung manages to quickly blurt out an apology as well as a thank you, before wishing her a good night and ending the call without waiting for her reply. He leans back on his chair, staring at the cream-colored ceiling above him.

It’s when he places both of his hands on his chest and feels the rhythmic thumping of his heart. It’s when he tries to steady his breathing, and when he finally does, he remembers what she said and wheezes. It’s when he realizes that he knows the answer to her earlier question, but he was too shy, too scared to actually answer her. It’s when he makes a promise to tell her, face-to-face and unabashedly, one day. Yoosung’s eyes linger to his desk clock.

It’s at 22:17pm on a LOLOL-filled Tuesday night that he realizes that he’s completely, head-over-heels in love with her.

ZEN

Zen can’t sleep.

He’s lying in bed, positively tired after a day’s work. He knew he did well earlier, yes, but his own self-reassuring thoughts did very little for his nerves. Ever since the whole hacking situation, he’s been on edge during his performances; he can’t help but be upset at himself for not giving his all for his audiences.

Despite being an “egotistical prick”, as Jumin calls it, he was often hit by waves of doubt during these late sleepless nights. His self-reassuring thoughts began to shift into ones of doubt, pushing him to twist and turn in his suddenly uncomfortable bed.

Was he a genuinely good actor? Did people watch his musicals for his talents or for his looks? Would he ever be more than just a handsome face up on the stage? He was jolted back to reality by the sudden ringing of his cellphone. He begrudgingly reached out to view the caller ID: [Name].

Without a second thought, he immediately answers the call. Her cheerful voice was tinged with a hint of her own weariness. He feels his heart begin to swell, savoring the way her voice says his name. “Can’t sleep either?” he says, genuinely happy to find her calling him out of all the other RFA members.

“Yeah,” he hears her say. “I was hoping you were awake. I’m glad I was actually right.” His chest tightens at this, and he can’t help but smile at the thought of her thinking about him at such an hour. He finds a sort of solace in her, thankful for her constant presence amidst all the happenings in his life.

The two converse, and he finds the weight on his shoulders gradually become lighter. His heart is both calm and erratic, and he finds himself laughing together with her, despite being miles apart. When he hears her congratulate him for the show he put on, for being such an amazing actor on-stage, for doing so well, even if he may not believe so, he almost starts crying.

“You’re doing so well, Zen. I’m sure all your fans can agree that you’re doing so much more. I mean that, truly. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here. So is Jaehee and the rest of the RFA,” she says from the other end of the line, and he allows himself to think that she means it. No, he knows she means it; it’s in the way that she speaks to him that he knows she’s saying nothing but the truth.

It’s when she says her good night that he catches himself almost saying it. He purses his lips, blundering out a good night of his own before slamming the END CALL button. It’s when his eyes shoot wide open, and he feels a ditzy smile gracing his lips. It’s when his self-doubting thoughts are replaced by thoughts of her. He brings his pale hands to his hair, and he can’t help but marvel at how much she affects him.

It’s when he catches himself thinking about her in wonder does he realize that he’s crazy about her.

((more under the cut))

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Ink and Kisses

Anon said to moi:

“Omg i want a tattoo artist jungkook!!!!!! 😭😩 smut/fluff/and honestly anything!!!! I just love tattoos artists jungkook but there aren’t alot of those fanfic…. can u help a poor girl out ??💖”

FIRst time trying a Tattoo artist AU. I had to do some reading before this, and JK is sO sexy i s2g. Still weird that I don’t really ever feel like doing the do with him. HOPE YOU ENJOY <3 1,400 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Tattooist au!

Part 1 | Part 2 (FINAL)

Originally posted by nnochu

No one would have ever imagined that hardcore badass Jeon Jungkook, the most well-known tattoo artist in the town, the guy who dropped out to follow his passion, was best friends with beautiful, sweet, top-scoring university student, Y/N. 

Physically, they seemed to be polar opposites. He had dragons inked onto his skin, three piercings on his left ear and two on his right, and always wore black; whilst you were a bright, clean slate – but you knew that was what he loved about you.

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Soulmates

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 1600

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.


Y/N was never much of a talker; she had maybe said eight sentences in her whole life time. She wasn’t sure where the fear really came from, the fear of saying the wrong thing, of being too loud, of not being heard, so she kept to herself. People didn’t seem to understand though, they couldn’t comprehend why she chose to not talk, so she was labeled as weird, freak, stupid etc. Then they labeled her as mute (and she was) but she hated that term, she really did, Y/N just hated being labeled. At first it hurt, it really did, but Y/N soon learned to ignore them, she could only really care about what her Soulmate would have to say, and deep down a part of her wished that they were like her, quiet.

Soulmates, Y/N had been waiting for hers for a long time. She could remember sitting in class in fifth grade, when the teacher explained the process. She explained how everyone was born with a mark, a mark that only their other half had and she made them find that mark. Y/N’s was on her wrist, it was small, and lighter than her regular skin color, she wasn’t sure what it was at first, it just looked like a stick. But the teacher explained how the mark gets more detailed as they get older and closer to finding their person, and Y/N had noticed how that mark slowly grew into a small flower, a petal or two still missing.

Her teacher explained how every person was made for the other, and that they would feel their soulmates emotions, pain, negative thoughts, happy thoughts. They were connected and no matter what the other would always feel what their person was feeling. Y/N had learned that her person always seemed to be grumpy.

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A Lesson in Love (The End)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,898

A/N: This is it, y’all. We’ve finally reached the final part of the series and, because I’m a sentimental son of a gun, I’ll post a proper goodbye post to this story sometime in the next day or two.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - Without you, there would be no ALiL. I can’t thank you enough for you endless support.

Originally posted by caps-bucky

You wake up early the next morning, eyes blinking wearily as you struggle to free yourself from the last remaining tendrils of slumber. It’s not a simple task, mostly because you’re still exhausted and all you want to do is fall go back to sleep.

But you can’t. Something woke you up and you need to figure out what it was.

As you begin to come to, so do your senses. A quick sweep around your surroundings lets you know that you’re not in your apartment and the feeling of someone wrapped around you is the only clue you need to figure out that you’re not alone. You turn your head slightly, nose catching the scent of antibacterial soap - a smell that your brain immediately connects to doctors and hospitals.

Hospitals.

The last bit of confusion about your current location fades away as your brain catches up with your senses. You’re with Bucky.

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Vive el Momento (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Requested: No, but @illuminateshawn and I live for drunk, festival Mendes in that red shirt from Amsterdam.

Word count: 4,947

“Can I have three large beers, thanks” I smiled, handing the girl in front of me my money. The sun was burning into my back, heating up my entire body slowly.

“I just love this weather” my friend Julia said. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to fully enjoy the warm rays of sun burning in her face.

“Me too” I agreed, looking around the festival filled with drunk people having fun everywhere.

To me, this was what summer was all about; heat, friends, music and beers. Actually, going to festivals was my happy place, I loved the whole idea of just letting go and enjoy yourself as much as possible; meeting new people and staying up until the early hours when the sun rose again.

“Girl, don’t look now but that guy… he’s looking again” Julia laughed, taking of her black sunglasses.

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playing with fire (m.) | 01

After an ugly breakup between you and your boyfriend of nearly one year, Jimin – you’re not only heartbroken, but absolutely irate at the things discovered after the two of you split up. One night while under the influence of pure unadulterated anger and alcohol, you and your best friend come up with the perfect plan to get back at him. Because, after all, you do know what they say, right?

If he breaks your heart, you fuck his best friend.

…Even if he has six.

cr.

pairing: hoseok x reader

word count: 4.2k

collaboration with: @blushoseoks

genre: smut  |  angst  |  fuckboy!hoseok

warning: wall sex  |  oral  |  dirty talk  |  demeaning names  |  cheating

masterlist | emna’s masterlist




The gentle click of heels against the linoleum floor - almost drowned out by the muffled music coming from the end of the corridor. A cracked door, the only light source in a space that had no windows. When Jeongyeon had told you that Hoseok would be practicing late, you almost didn’t believe her. You and he had never been close. The only time you ever spoke was when Jimin would bring you over to the frat house and most of the time Hoseok would be making out with his girlfriend or fucking her loud enough that when she would leave his room - dazed with messy lipstick and a bubbly expression on her face, the boys would tease her nonstop until a blush rose on her cheeks.


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bare your souls

Summary: Bucky says I love you for the first time || bucky barnes x reader || oneshot

Warnings: light smut but there is some

Note: ALL THE FLUFF!!! also, thank god for personal hotspots or this wouldn’t have been posted util tomorrow; this is terrible anyways so it probs wouldn’t have made a difference

i’ll put this on my masterlist in the next few days

Originally posted by seabasschino

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Dean Thinks You’re Hot

Title: Dean Thinks You’re Hot

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2,122

Anon Request: you think you could write one where the reader feels insecure about her stretch marks/size and Jensen is her best friend and tries to help her feel better?

Warnings: Negative Thoughts, Low Self-Esteem, Fluff, Implied Smut

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated, friends! xoxox

x

Your name: submit What is this?


    Pacing back and forth around your trailer almost drove you dizzy. Back and forth. Back and forth; as if that was going to simultaneously solve all of your problems. It wasn’t. Not even close.

    You had just gotten the memo that your intimate scene with Jensen was moved to today, not that you weren’t sweating buckets the second you got the script, but the fact that the scene was moved to today instead of five days from now had you ripping your hair from your head. You were going to be very exposed to him, and no matter how long the two of you had been friends, this was something you weren’t comfortable with on so many levels.

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Defects (M)

Muses: jungkook x reader
Genre: Angsty angst angst
Warning: mentions of cheating, sex (it’s all over the place) and plain old defect in the soulmate system.
Words: 4.1k
Note: Wrote all this Jungkook’s cover, Beautiful, a Goblin OST is on replay.

Concept: Every time you meet your soulmate, your pocket watch will start counting down the time you have with them until you part. For the amount of time you’re away from each other, whether it’s a month, a day, or just hours, the time is at a pause as your watch stares back at you with unmoving hands on the 12th hour. When you meet again, the countdown restarts.

Summary: Your watch comes alive in Jungkook’s presence, but often time, never as long as you will it to be no matter how hard you pray to the fates. The moments with him are fleeting and brief like the akin-to magical seconds you spend watching the cityscape buzz to life on nights you can’t sleep - nights Jungkook isn’t there to kiss your worries away and disappear like the wind blowing through cities at the break of dawn. When your the hands on your watch stills with glaring zeroes, you know where he’s at, you know who he’s with - he goes back to her, the woman who his time starts and ends with.

Originally posted by nnochu

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Sunday Morning

Summary: A young man and a young woman run into one another on a Sunday morning at a coffee shop, both of them heartbroken, and rediscover what it means to love and be loved. Bucky x Reader 

 Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this one for a bit. It’s basically the feel-good romance no one ever expected me to write (me included) 

 Words: ~2900

Originally posted by writingandcoffeehouse

Bucky used to love Sunday mornings. They were meant for sleeping in, for curling against the soft, tender body that slept next to him.

They’d had five years of Sunday mornings, of her soft sighs in his ear as she stirred from her sleep, bright green eyes blinking sleepily up at him as he kissed her plush, pink lips. Five years of Sunday mornings, of making coffee in a pair of boxers; of her arms wrapping around him from behind, a soft cheek against his bare back. Five years of Sunday mornings, of sitting at the breakfast bar in their pajamas, her thumb wiping jelly off the corners of his mouth.

Five years of Sunday mornings, wasted.

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Home Run (M)

Anonymous said to oppamansae:

“I still cannot get baseball jungkook damn that was amazingly HOT ! God damn ! Baseball jungkook X Cheerleader Reader ?! <3 Smutttttttttt~~~~~ with a fluff ? XD - ok im still imagining baseball player jungkook *heart eyes*”

Yeah as shitty as the title is, I can’t think of anything else. BUT YES HERE YOU GO BEAUTIFUL ANON. BASEBALL PLAYER ROOKIE JUNGKOOKIE. 2,036 Words

Pairing: Baseball player! Jeon Jungkook x Cheerleader! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Baseballer au!

Warnings: (slight)fingering, riding, JEON JUNGKOOK

Originally posted by mayfifolle

“And Jeon Jungkook is getting ready to take the next ball. One more home run, and this came is over. All the plates are empty – will he be able to make it?”

The entire arena cheered his name along with the cheerleading squad which belonged to the team containing the star baseball players of Korea, BTS. Not only were their visuals amazing, but they were all-stars, especially the main batsmen, Jeon Jungkook. 

“Takada Naoki is getting ready to bowl, and–” There was a thunderous ‘bang’ which irrupted from the bat of the brunet. “Amazing hit!!”

The crowd went wild as the player immediately dashed off the home plate. You cheered from your stage along with your group of girls – maybe you weren’t the main cheerleader, but you tried your best, kicking and waving your white and blue pom-poms from your position on the side.

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” 

The entire stadium chanted as he made it to third base, the Japanese team finally getting the ball, ready to pass it to the keeper. All the cheering stopped for a moment as soon as the ball was in the air, breaths being held in anticipation. The male soon slipped into home base as the ball was caught, the referee bringing the whistle to his lips.

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When I met you, I had to take a step back and take a moment to embrace the fact I had no idea the true definition of beauty, because I never thought such perfection existed.
—  Day 135
"A LETTER TO MY TEENAGE SELF" by SOLANGE KNOWLES

there will be fear. a lot of it. there will be triumph. a lot of it. there will be constellations you want to reach for but can’t put your finger on. you will trace them like the scars on your body you got from trouble and the times of your life. you will take the long way to get to these Orions. the long way will become a theme in your life, but a journey you learn to love.

you will dive head first without looking into phases that you are certain of who you are.
some of these stages include:

  • the dance-is-life (aka “this leotard is my second skin”) phase.
  • the Bible-thumping-church-camp phase.
    (which coincided and contradicted with the Fiona-Apple-fan-club-president phase)
  • the Nas aficionado-brown-lip-liner-and-Vaseline phase.
  • the Rasta-vegan-thrifter-who-is-determined-to-marry-Brandon-Boyd phase.
  • the football-player’s-girlfriend-who-wears-braided-blond-highlights-and-swears-by-capri-pants phase.

at the time, you are searching. seeking in every corner and pocket of the world for who you are. take your time, baby girl. there’s no rush to get there. you will sow each of these chapters in the land that you become. you will see bits and pieces of them scattered into the skin you grow into. you don’t have to figure everything out now. time will reveal itself. i promise you.

sometimes you push these phases to the max, and when you go out into the world feeling confident in who you are and what you reflect, young folks will call you names and grown folks will call you names. It’s ok. one day you will name yourself, and that name will belong to you. it will not be the ones they ordained: “crazy, ugly, attention-seeking, weirdo.”

i really hate to tell you this, but sometimes you will still get called these things as an adult, except you will actually embrace some of them. you will learn that these are just words. words that only have power if you choose to give them power. every once in a while they will hurt, but you will choose to turn those words into a symbol of beauty.

speaking of words. they might just be your first love. sometimes you can write for hours, just you and the words on the pages. they make you feel understood, even if it’s just you that you’re talking to.

trust in these words, even when you’re feeling wildly insecure. hold on to your journals. cherish them. put them somewhere safe so that they may become a guide for you later, a revealer and a friend.

the lucky stars have been good to you, and there’s a long list of things you’d like to give gratitude to them for, but for now thank them for these three:

  • that you didn’t die when you and your friends drove up a steep mountain in a snowstorm with no experience and bad brakes. that was stupid as hell.
  • that you went to the ensemble theater every summer. i really don’t think you’d be who you are today had it not been for those experiences, teachers, and experimentation with your mind and body.
  • that the universe chose your mom to be your mother.

she is a wonder. you watch her drop off 3 kids at 3 different schools in the morning, pick them up in the afternoon, shuffle each of them to their designated activities, and bring them all back to the salon she owns until she closes up with the utmost grace, love, and kindness.

you realize watching a woman balance being a supportive mother, building a successful business from the ground up that was started in her garage, and giving back to the community will make you feel invincible and like the word “no” is just an echo in the universe that you’ll never know. you often take her for granted, but you know with every joint in your bones that she is a phenomenon and you strive to make her proud. you should thank her out loud more, too; tell her you value her. roll your eyes and your neck less. it’s not as cute as you think. tell her you appreciate all that she does, for she makes the impossible look effortless. she surrounds you with other black women who do the same. you study them, and will constantly think of all their stories, their beauty, their strife and their stride. they break down all of the archetypes and stereotypes that you see of black women on tv and in magazines, so you don’t trust those anymore. you thank them for re-writing the script before it was ever etched in your memory.

because you have your mama’s blood, you are fiercely independent and outgoing. you’ve been starting petitions, building tree houses, and starting clubs since as long as you can remember.

sometimes in the midst of juggling all this, you put a lot of pressure on yourself and often crash and burn. you shut down. you go into your room, lock the door, put on music, and you do not move for 8 hours straight. it will feel like the heaviest and bleakest darkness you can possibly feel, and when you ask everyone to leave you alone and let you be, what you really want to say is “i want you here” and “i need help.”

sometimes it is ok to say just that. it won’t make you less strong or less powerful. no one you love will criticize you or blame you; in fact, they will lift you up.

seventeen will be the hardest year of your life. it will grow you up almost immediately. you will lose your best friend whom you love so much to gun violence in a single moment, and give birth to a new one within a year.

you will be terrified, and it’s ok that you don’t know what the future holds. some people will count you out because of the decision you’ve made to bring another life into the world so young, but you made the decision out of love and will live with the decision in love.

soon enough you will learn how to love and how to exist with love in ways that you never knew. you will learn how to love yourself and how to empathize with and forgive those who may have taken a bit of that pure love away from you.

you have a long life ahead of you, and i’ll tell you it’s not gonna always be easy, but I can promise you it will be fruitful and with much purpose. all the bridges you’ve burned, you had to, so that you could rebuild them to become a stronger and more wonderful you.

there will be pain, there will be doubt there will be beauty, there will be the unknown. there will be so many moments of joy and delight that the whole universe will feel painted in hues of amber and wonder. there will be times you are so sad you can’t lift your head. and there will be times you are so happy that the sensation of life knocks you down. but most importantly, there will be you. a whole, whole lot of it. and you will feel good about who she is and who she is still becoming.

Jealousy || Stiles Stilinski Imagine

Originally posted by elizabethccoper

Request: Do you do one shots too or only imagines? If you do, I was thinking maybe an teen wolf x Riverdale crossover. Like the reader goes to Riverdale for the summer to hang out with her cousin that just moved there (Veronica) and she meets jughead and he reminds her of stiles the guy she’s been in love with since forever and she starts getting close to jug and Stiles finds out and gets jealous bc he’s lowkey in love with her too and he goes to Riverdale to get her and maybe there’s some angst and smut

A/n: I haven’t posted anything in months (probably 6 months? Idk) and I’m really sorry about that. I had zero motivation to write anything and if I did nothing would come to me, so I’m really sorry. But now I’m back with school almost being over, I have a lot of time now. So enjoy this imagine that I wrote and sorry if it isn’t perfect and sorry if there’s any grammar error. Love you guys x

“Do you have to go?” A sad looking Stiles asked from across the room. You sighed, nodding your head as you packed some clothes in your suitcase. Stiles let out a puff and got up from the chair he was sitting in and walked over to your bed. “I don’t want you to.”

 “Stiles, it’s just the summer. It would go by pretty fast.” You told the brown haired boy and gave him a smile. He gave you a forced smile and you threw the shirt you had in your hands at him. Stiles let out a loud squeak, making you burst out laughing. 

 “That was so not cool.” Stiles claimed, glaring at you. You stuck your tongue out at him and giggled a bit. “Tell me again why are you leaving?”

 “I haven’t seen my cousin, Veronica, in a really long time and she always lived on the other side of the states and now that she’s 5 hour away I can finally go and visit her.” You exclaimed, getting excited about the fact that you’re going to see your beloved cousin after so, so long.

 “What if a monster invades the town?” He asked and you stopped folding your clothes to look at him, raising your eyebrows at him.

 “Stiles, if anyone invades the town there’s always Scott, Malia, Lydia…” you started to say, your face feeling hot before finishing your sentence, “and they have you. If anyone can stop those monsters, it’s you..”

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Boku no Hero Academia Fiction Recommendation Master Post

I have decided my new favorite anime and its fandom deserves some appreciation. Every work I recommend are - in my personal opinion - beautiful and I want everyone to read them. If you see your work up here that’s cause I loved it to the moon and back! I welcome suggestions too!  

♥ - ultimate fav

★ - they do the do

(★) - implied sexual activities

ロ - unfinished

■ - finished

✿ - multi chapters


TodoDeku (Todoroki x Midoriya)

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

Summary:  [02:13 AM] todoroki: Are you awake?

Summary:  U.A.’s Heroics Division’s Class A was graduating. Moving on. Never coming back. And Izuku is going to be left behind, solidly trapped in a prison of his own making. There might be a few things that could make it more bearable, though.

Summary:  Todoroki is bad at presents, and worse at confessions.

Summary:  I wrote some silly fluff for Izuku’s birthday. Happy bday, little hero egg!

Summary: Todoroki felt his own breath drop in temperature as the nerves settled in, steam rising with each steady exhale. He continued to stare, as if expecting the same to happen to Midoriya when he caught a whiff of cool mint as the boy spoke, face inches from his. In which Midoriya has a better grasp on the changes happening in Todoroki than Todoroki himself.

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

Summary:  In which Todoroki Shouto is trying to ask Midoriya out and the whole class is in on it.

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

Summary:  It’s been judged safe to send the students of UA home to their families for the first three weeks of summer, much to the relief of everyone whose name isn’t Todoroki Shouto. Luckily, Midoriya has a solution for him, and Midoriya Inko has a lot of love to give.

Note: You’re going to cry ugly crocodile tears

Summary: Izuku has never been one to curse but the only way to describe himself as his mother hugs him goodbye that morning, is royally fucked.He’s really, truly glad no one in their class has a mind-reading quirk because from the minute his feet touched warm sand, his mind has been screaming in tune to the same famous classical overtures Tenya listens to when they study together. Occasionally, the music pauses just long enough for his brain to point out observations about Shouto that make Izuku want to stick his head under the waves and just breathe in.

Summary:  Note to self: don’t accidentally fall in love with a prince who’s in an arranged marriage keeping your kingdoms from declaring war against each other. Especially when you’re spying on him as his manservant.

Summary: It starts —like all ideas that inevitably lead to one’s downfall do— with something akin to this: Midoriya Izuku. Midoriya Izuku and a five-story house by the beach, completely devoid of any entry-fee –save for the one where Todoroki has to pretend to be Deku’s boyfriend. All-in-all though, not an awful price to pay for the vacation of their dreams, right? Right?

Summary:  It’s Wednesday morning when Izuku’s mother texts him to remind him about his cousin’s wedding coming up the following weekend, and it’s Wednesday evening, when Izuku’s back in his room after classes and has time to call her, that she tells him she can’t go to the wedding with him.

Summary: Todoroki and Midoriya are pro heroes. They’re also dating.These two aspects clash when they’re outed to the entire world as Japan’s first officially gay heroes.

Summary: In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose. Or…Todoroki Shouto’s exciting adventures in customer service.

Note: First part of the extra-salty/twitter-verse series! The next TodoDeku part of the series: get in loser, we’re going heroing

Summary:  Shouto Todoroki is a cold Pro Hero who never uses his fire side. He refuses to be like his father, Endeavor, but every day it seems like he’s becoming more like him. Shouto meets up with Izuku Midoriya, a quirkless Pro Hero counselor and discovers that his power is his own. Also… he might be falling in love with his counselor. // AU where Deku never received One for All and became a quirk counselor instead!

Summary: Shouto has his first sleepover.

Summary:  In the wake of All Might’s death, Izuku grieves. (Post-Graduation/Future Fic)

Summary: It was a mistake, Shouto thinks, to fall in love with a hero. (Or the one where Todoroki is a Quirkless school nurse and Hero Deku’s longsuffering boyfriend.)



KiriBaku (Kirishima x Bakugou) 

Summary: … It wasn’t that he was annoyed. Okay, maybe he was a little annoyed, but that was just the lack of sleep talking. Because a certain explosive punk thought it was a good idea to test the flammability of his sheets at 2 in the morning. Every single morning. (In which Bakugou’s quirk wakes Kirishima up, and Kirishima gets way too invested in his bro’s well-being.)

Summary:  The summer training camp of Bakugou’s second year at UA descends upon him with all the untamed fury of- well, himself, honestly.

Summary: "Hey! Wake up you piece of shit! Are you alive?!“ The man winces and scrunches his face in pain but Bakugou continued to hold him in place. Good, he’s alive- Piercing red eyes flutter open and gaze lazily straight at Bakugou’s face and Bakugou feels his heart skip a beat. Oh, Fuck- AKA merman! Kirishima au

Summary: Bakugou sleeping in the common areas like it’s no big deal seems to give everyone else permission to be just as bizarre, and little by little Kirishima starts learning things about his classmates he never knew.  

Summary:  Bakugou Katsuki and Kirishima Eijirou are paired together for a winter survival assignment! It’s inevitable that the two clash, but neither of them could have predicted an accident at the height of their tension. Trapped in the wilderness at the mercy of the environment, how will the two cope with finding help and mending what was broken?

Summary:  Before going into battle, it’s only proper to make an offering to the god of war. But Kirishima’s run out of things to give. AKA God of War! Bakugou au

Summary: “You’re a popsicle biter, you fucking animal,” Bakugou says. “You’re not?” Kirishima says around a mouthful of ice cream. “No,” Bakugou says. “I prefer my teeth unfrozen, thanks.” He wraps his mouth around the popsicle and Kirishima realizes his mistake very, very quickly.

Summary:  Kirishima has always made things easy for Bakugou. But that doesn’t mean that Bakugou’s gotten any better at these things, even after all of these years.

Summary: Bakugou works at a convenience store, flirts like a loser, blows up nineteen aprons, gets a hashtag trending for all the wrong reasons and maybe manages to make a friend. Or…being Bakugou Katsuki is suffering.

Note: Part two of the extra-salty/twitter-verse series