Miscommunication - Blog Posts

Happy Pride?

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[♥] [♥]

Another entry in Taka's accidental adventures in insulting people.

As someone who has an allergy to face-paint I have to duck and weave when folk bring out the rainbow face-paint sticks at pride, and I always have the urge to justify myself...

But no one believes you if you say something like 'I swear, I'm not honophobic! I just have an allergy!'

an "Allergy" indeed...

and you crashed into my life (please won't you stay by my side)

asthmaticbee

Summary:

Izuku never gets One For All, and never goes to UA. Away from Bakugou, he finds that most people don’t care about his Quirklessness as much, and actually makes friends in his class.

This, however, gives rise to a new problem - namely lots of confessions to the sweet and smart boy. In his attempts to make them stop, he lies that he’s dating UA star Todoroki Shouto, certain the lie will never come to light.

Sucks that Shouto stops a villain attack on his school while interning with Endeavor. Trying to keep up the lie Izuku takes Shouto aside and asks him to play along for his classmates.

He doesn’t expect Shouto to come back to his school and keep up the act.

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Relationships:

Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto Bakugou Katsuki/Consequences - Relationship

Characters:

Minor Original Characters - Character Midoriya Izuku Midoriya Inko Todoroki Shouto Yagi Toshinori | All Might Background & Cameo Characters

Additional Tags:

Fake/Pretend Relationship Romantic Comedy Quirkless Midoriya Izuku Gay Disaster Midoriya Izuku Gay Disaster Todoroki Shouto Miscommunication Todoroki Shouto is a Dork Inspired by Twitter Gift Fic no beta we die like Izuku's poor gay heart author plays fast and loose with the LOV because this isn't about them Strangers to Fake Boyfriends to Friends to Actual Boyfriends

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2022-08-02 Updated: 2022-08-23 Words: 5755 Chapters: 4/16

On Tim and Dick (specifically Dick giving away Robin):

Dick sees "graduating" from Robin as an honor. That is the source of most of his arguments with Bruce. Dick has spent so much time and effort trying to escape from Batman's shadow. When he "graduates" Tim, he sees it as an honor. An affirmation that Tim is Doing Good and has succeeded.

Tim sees "losing" Robin as failure. This is the source of most of his- I'm not gonna say arguments, but feelings toward- Bruce. He has spent so much time and effort to be deemed worthy to be even in Batman's shadow to begin with. When he "loses" Robin, he sees it as Dick telling him he isn't Good Enough. An affirmation of the bullshit Damian has been spewing about Tim's value as part of the group. (And I could rant about Damian and Robin and Tim, but that's for a different day.)

Back to the "Batman's Shadow" analogy: Dick became Robin in Batman's shadow. He was sheltered from the blinding light until he was old enough to take it on. When he was, Batman didn't want him to go. So he left the shadows himself. He sees being able to 'brave the light' as a victory, so he "rescues" Tim from the shadow.

Tim became Robin without Batman's aid. He became Robin with no one to shelter him from the light. And just when he finally feels secure in his role, just when he's granted a place in Batman's shadow, Dick shoves him back into the unforgiving light again.

Robin is a very complicated mantle with a lot of feelings attached to it, it's a very symbolic thing. Robin is not just a crime fighting vigilante, it is not just a suit, but it is- it is a place of belonging within the family. For Dick, specifically, Robin was to honor his dead parents. From the very beginning, Robin is for family. Jason uses Robin as a way to connect with Bruce and defend his first "family", the people of Crime alley. So in the second Robin, this idea stays clear: Robin is for family.

But with Tim? He wasn't family until the end of his run as Robin, but he still saw it as family. He was there for the origins of Robin, at the circus. He saw how Robin was for family.

And then Dick took it away.

Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

A Guidebook to Drinking Coffee by lovelytime

12/12 chapters

Summary: Bruce Wayne had a guide for everything in his life. He knew exactly when to laugh, when to say "thank you" and when to pretend he was drunk. He could muster tears on the spot and entertain an entire ballroom. He knew what to do, and how to do it, to get exactly what he wanted. But Clark Kent came with no guide.

Arrow-Family

You’re Not Dating a Kid!... Actually This Might Be Worse by heytheresunshine

Could you write something for Chris? Maybe one where he’s in a mad mood and says something really mean he doesn’t mean to the reader so she leaves and he has to really work to apologize and make it up to the reader but it’s fluffy in the end and it all works out

— ★ !! irritable

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after having a really bad / exhausting day, chris insults you on accident. what he said hurt your feelings and now he has to make it up to you

a/n : oh my god, of course !! also miscommunication is my specialty so i've got you babes ;)

also i’m so sorry that it took so long to answer, i’m currently going thru and answering requests to catch up

wc : 0.9k

you came home in a great mood because you had a really good day. you’re super excited to tell chris about it as you open the door of your guys’ shared apartment.

you quickly spot him in the living room. he’s sprawled out on the couch, watching a movie.

he hasn’t noticed you’d even gotten home. suddenly, the fact he’s got no idea that you’re here sparks an idea to scare him.

see, you guys get off work and different times each day — which means neither of you can prepare for the others arrival seeing that you’d never know what it’d take place . due to this, you’ve both started a habit of trying to scare the other when they’re home alone.

you sneak up behind your boyfriend before jumping out at him, grabbing his shoulders to freak him out even farther.

expecting chris to laugh, you start to giggle at him. but he doesn’t laugh. he just gives you a side-glance before returning his attention to the tv.

you think for a moment, noticing he’s in a pretty bad mood. normally, physical touch or simply being near him fixes his mood.

so you walk around the couch and lay down beside him, resting your head in his lap. chris looks down at you and just sighs, looking back at the tv.

now you’re really confused. what the hell is his problem?

“are you okay?” you ask him.

“mhm.” chris responds shortly.

“uh, what?” you laugh. “you’re clearly not okay. you don’t have to lie to me. i can help you through whatever’s bothering you.”

“why would you ask if you’re just gonna fucking correct me?” chris retorts.

“sorry, i’m worried about you.” you say.

chris doesn’t answer, his attention fully engulfed in whatever’s taking place on the tv screen.

“chris.” you say to get his attention. “what’s wrong? i’m just worried about you. you know you don’t-“

“just shut the fuck up already!” he shouts, looking down at you with annoyance in his eyes.

you scoff, standing up from the couch and walking out of the living room completely. you storm away from him and go into your guys’ shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

chris just sighs, looking back at the tv now that you’re gone.

however, no matter how hard he tried to focus on the movie, there’s a pang of regret in his chest, making him feel really, really, really bad for saying that to you.

see, chris would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. you’re more than his girlfriend, you’re his best friend.

but he’s a human being. everyone has bad days where everything annoys them. and turns out, chris was having one of those days. and you happened to be the thing to be who he blew up on.

he gets up from the couch and walks down to your guys bedroom.

“y/n, i’m sorry.” chris says, tapping on the door with a gentle fist.

you don’t answer him as you curl up under the blankets and hug your pillow closer to your chest.

he sighs at your lack of a response before softly opening the door and letting himself inside. you can hear him enter the room, but you stay silent and don’t say anything.

he walks over to the bed and sits on the edge. you feel the mattress sink under his weight and you scoff.

“if i annoy you that much, why are you in here?” you ask, still not facing him.

“i’m sorry for blowing up on you like that.” he apologizes.

“you should be.” you say.

it’s a little rude of you, but you’re pissed. you’re not gonna let him walk all over you. if your boyfriend hurts your feelings, a simple apology won’t fix everything.

“i know.” he sighs, lying down beside you. you feel chris’s arms wrap around your waist as he pulls your back against his chest. he buries his face in your neck with a content exhale.

you want to shove him off of you because you’re still mad. but physical touch is your favorite.

so you allow him to snuggle, but you stay silent.

“i’m sorry,” chris says against your skin. “i know i hurt your feelings and i genuinely feel bad for it. i’d do anything to make it up to you. but i know you don’t want my pity.”

“i was excited to tell you about my day.” you mutter.

he sighs, a wave of guilt washing over him.

“i can’t take back what i said, but i’m really glad you had a good day.” chris tells you. “i’m so sorry for ruining that for you.”

you’ve known chris for a long time — which means that you can read his emotions as though they were your own. and you can tell that he genuinely feels like shit now.

there’s no point in staying mad at him when you can tell he regrets what he did.

“you didn’t ruin my day,” you tell him, “i just wish you weren’t so dismissive of my feelings.”

communication is a huge thing in your guys’ relationship. it’s what keeps you guys going. so whenever there’s a misunderstanding, you both make an effort to apologize and explain how you felt.

one of chris’s mottos is that he never goes to bed angry.

“i’m sorry.” he repeats for the hundredth time. “i love you so much. remember that.”

“i love you too.” you say, feeling him place a kiss on your head.

tags : @kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld

Never stop chasing me 🐕

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Overprotective!Ransom, softdom!Ransom, angst, Beefy!Ransom, mentions of mean!Ransom, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, p in v

Nicknames: Puppy

Word count: 2.9k

You’ve been in love with Ransom for as long as he could remember. It was obvious to everyone around you, even to him but he ignored it. He liked feeling wanted. He liked the look of pure admiration in your eyes. He liked how you’d follow him around like a puppy. And he loved your adorable jealous face when he flirted with others. But lately you haven’t been coming around, you’ve been avoiding him completely. Then he sees you with another man. He can’t bear it, he needs you back.

Master list

Tag list🎀

Wherever Ransom went, you weren’t far behind. At the country club? You were there. At social events? You were there. Shopping for new clothes? You were definitely there; carrying his bags, giving opinions on outfits and keeping him company. Your behaviour had earned you the nickname ‘Puppy’, well at least, that was what the nicer people called you. Others, who were less nice, called you a more explicit word of the same origin. The nickname had stuck, even Ransom called you it now ‘Puppy, carry this.’ or ‘Puppy, follow me.’ or ‘Puppy, put that down’ They’d all become frequent commands. He liked having a little puppy to follow him everywhere, despite him disliking dogs—he liked you, though he would never show it. He loved the fact that no matter what he did you’d always run back to him. He adored the sad puppy eyes you always gave him; whenever he abandoned you to go off with others or whenever he said something inherently mean to you like insulting your outfit, hair or just general appearance that day—he loved the sight of tears threatening to spill from your big eyes and your lip quivering at his insults, it was one of his favourite activities. He felt powerful when he did it, something he always lacked at home—but you slotted right into that category of need perfectly. He valued your friendship deep, deep down in his seemingly non existent heart. He refused to show it though, because to show it was to admit that he needed you and he didn’t need anyone…Or did he?

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

He had caved on the third day. He couldn’t bare the silence any more. It was making him antsy, his leg was continually bouncing and for the first time in forever he’d begun biting his nails again—a habit he’d had to try so hard to curb. God damn he missed you. He missed your presence, the soft chime of your sing-song tone, the light pitter patter of your feet as you followed closely behind him and your scent—he missed that most—it was so comforting, he’d instantly relax when he smelt you. He was crumbling without it. He threw down the magazine, onto the small black table that divided the chairs, in frustration throwing his head back, resting an arm on his forehead and letting out an elongated Ughh. He was bored and lonely. Argh he hates that word: Lonely. Why the fuck should he, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, have to be lonely? It was a ridiculous concept. The words Drysdale and lonely do not align, they should never be placed next to each other. It was sacrilege. But somehow it happened.

He needed to fuck someone.

That was the conclusion he had come to, that’s why he was here at ‘Miss Scarlet’ ‘The hottest bar in town’ is what every stupid tourist site called it. To Ransom, it was exclusively known as ‘the bird nest’ because it was one of the only places he went to pick up women. Aside from the country club, of course, but he'd almost run entirely through its supply of hot milfs looking to cheat on their husbands. So now he was here, nursing a drink whilst he flirted with a hot blonde at the bar. That’s when he saw you. More dressed up than he’d ever seen you before, giggling at a guy's jokes, touching his arm whilst he kissed along your delicate face. He squeezed the glass in his hand so hard that it threatened to shatter. He slammed his glass into the polished bar top, leaving his maraschino cherry. And he never left his maraschino cherry.

Before he knew it he was striding over to you, uncaring about the looks he was getting as he parted the crowd like the Red Sea to get to you. You were stunned at the sight of him; his eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous, chest heaving, hair slightly tousled and nostrils flared as he stood tall, towering over you and the man you were fooling around with “Get up, Puppy. We’re leaving.” He demanded, waiting for you to comply. You remained seated “Puppy. Get up. Now.” He ordered sneering at the fact that he had to repeat himself, he had never had to do that with you. You had always followed commands the second they were uttered. You ignored him for the second time, he was livid. “Hey you. Yeah you, fuck face, who else I’m I talking to? Take a fucking walk okay? Just piss off.” the man shifted in his seat but you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with your puppy eyes. That broke him.

His pride took the back seat, as walked into the booth seizing your wrist and using little of his strength to pull you in his chest. His other hand drifting to the small of your back, your scent hit him. Fuck he needed you, more than he’d needed anyone before. He’d never noticed how much bigger he was than you, how he practically engulfed you. It made him hard. He picked you up, cradling you in his arms- as if you were a fragile baby—and grabbed your stuff before marching out of the bar towards his prized BMW. He set you down in the passenger seat and then got into the drivers side. You started to frantically pull at the door handle, trying to get out of here. You couldn’t be in here with him, you could feel all the words you’d wished you said tangling inside you; getting trapped in you throat forming a painful lump as your lip wobbled and tears rolled down your cheeks “Open the door! Ransom!” You thought you sounded fine aside from when you said his name, your voice quaked and you let out a little whimper. He noticed though and it made his heart ache at the sound of your pain. Finally you gave up on the door.

“The child lock is on, you won’t be running from me, Puppy. I need to talk to you, let’s get to my house first.” You didn’t respond “Do your seatbelt up.” You made no movement to do so, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window. Ransom leaned across you, buckling you in. He swiped at the tears on the cheek facing him, telling you it was going to be okay before turning the key and starting the drive back to his house.

You were silent the whole journey, aside from your sobs that you attempted to muffle in the sleeve of your auburn sweater. He put some calming music on low volume hoping to calm you. It didn’t work. Your sobs just became more ragged, he could see your whole body shaking in his peripheral vision as he pulled up to the house.

He immediately got out of the car, wasting no time as he practically ran to your side. Throwing open the door, swiftly unbuckling your seat belt and pressing you back into his chest, rocking you like an infant and shushing you as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He locked the car and walked up to his house, struggling to unlock the door. He finally did, kicking the door open and shutting it ungracefully behind him as he entered the living room setting you down on the couch. He finally looked at your face. It was red and wrecked with tears and snot that you had attempted to rub away with your sleeve. You hiccuped as more tears came, the gravity of the situation crushing your chest pushing all your emotions out of you, you tried to cover yourself, to curl in on yourself so he couldn’t see your disheveled state as you unwound before him. He plopped down next to you and pulled you close “Y/N you need to look at me, okay? We need to talk about this. I need to know why you left.”

You slowly let down your arms “why I left? Ransom y-you k-know why I left.” You choked looking at him incredulously. He stared at you dumbfounded, he had no idea. “You make me feel s-so insignificant, you’re always so mean to m-me despite e-everything I do for y-you and you always ignore m-me and make me feel like I don’t even… I don’t even e-exist.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, you looked and sounded pitiful. You whimpered as his hand stroked your cheek, leaning into his cool hand for relief from the sweltering warmth that was stifling you.

“I never knew you felt like that. I was so lonely without you, Puppy.”

“Stop it.” You sniffled, face scrunching up in anger as you pulled away from his touch

“Stop what?”

“Calling me Puppy. I hate it. You always use it to make fun of me, you hate dogs Ransom so it’s your way of saying you h-hate me.” You mumble in a strained voice, a fresh stream of salty tears ran down your face as you choked painfully on the tight knot in your throat, a sob wracking your body as he squeezed you tighter into his muscular chest .

“I’m not making fun of you. I call you Puppy because you follow me around like one. I love you. This week without you made me realise that. I can’t be without you, my life falls to pieces when I don’t have you here. I love you, Puppy. I can’t see you with another man, it hurt so much and it made me so fucking angry.” He had to stop the anger from over taking him, he didn’t want to scare you, but just picturing that guy putting his lips on you made him want to ravish you. He began kissing your tears away and wiped your nose with a tissue from the table “No more crying okay? Because you’re making me cry too.” And it was true there were actual tears running down his face, for the first time ever he was actually crying. Your tiny hand cupped his face, marvelling at the tears that were actually falling from his eyes “I’ve known you loved me ever since we became friends. But I liked you chasing me.”

“You’re such an asshole Ransom.” You chuckled tucking yourself into the crook of his neck, he soon removed you.

“I know, but I’m your asshole, Puppy.” You swooned at the idea of him being yours, you’d always prayed the day would come when he’d say he loved you and now your dream had come true. His head dipped down just enough to be at level with yours and then he kissed you, curling his rough fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. It had started as an innocent kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the way his tongue crept into your mouth or the little moan you let out as he lightly tugged your hair. It metamorphosed into teeth and steamy gasps for air between kisses, your tongues thrashing together with insatiable hunger, as he pushed you back into the couch; your head resting against the arm rest as he continued to devour you. He finally pulled away and admired his handy work. Your lips were red and swollen and your eyes were clouded with lust, practically gawking at him as you shifted uncomfortably pleading for him to continue. Those puppy eyes would be the death of him.

He threw his cable knit sweater to the ground and slipped between your legs, tearing a hole in your tights and pushing your panties to the side. “Ransom you don’t have to do that.” You exclaimed, pushing at his head and squeezing your thighs closed, his strong hands parted them.

“Today is about you. I need to show you how much I love you, Puppy, and the best way to show you is with my mouth.” He ran his tongue between your dripping folds, he let out a deep moan when the taste of you reached him “So fucking sweet.” He growled, pushing his tongue into your clenching hole. One of his hands drifted down your clit, gathering some of your slick before circling the little bud of nerves as he attacked the spongy sweet spot inside of you. You threw your head back, your hands scrambling to take hold of his silky locks. Even his hair felt expensive. You drove your hips into his mouth forcing him further into you.

“Feels so good.” You pant as he pulls out his tongue and replaces it with his fingers, continuing to attack the spot that made your toes curl. His lips closed around your clit licking, sucking and biting ever so gently. He flicked his tongue over your pearl, relishing in your mewls

“That’s it, Puppy, you’re close. Come on my face. I want to taste you. Come.” He ordered, attacking you clit with new found vigour as your hips raised up off the sofa your thighs shook as the using warmth inside you came to its peak. You screamed as he abused your clit even through your orgasm, squirting all over his face. He lapped at you a few times before pulling away. Cold air kissing your tepid, wet pussy sending goosebumps across your skin. Ransom's face was glistening with your slick and his lips were swollen and red. He pulled your tights, underwear and skirt all at once and pulled your sweater over your head, leaving your nude body completely bare to his wandering gaze “you’re gorgeous.” He uttered, not intending for you to hear, stroking his calloused palms against your smooth skin, running his hand over every single curve and dip “I want to worship you, I’ll open a temple for just me and you because you are my goddess. I need to worship you.” You covered your face in embarrassment, he pulled your arms away from your face. “Don’t do that with me, Puppy, I want to see every single one of your beautiful expressions.” He cooed as he undid his pinstripe slacks and pulled down his boxers freeing his length that had been begging to escape, it was heavy and long with a thick vein tracing up the shaft. It twitched as he took a hold of the thick shaft, hovering it over your lower stomach “I’m going to fill you so we’ll, Puppy.” He rasped before nudging the head at your entrance. He pushed his whole length in with a grunt, his dick stretching your walls, relishing in your cries as your back arched further into him. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, sucking his shoulder. The scent of his cologne weaved it’s way into your lungs, it was an intoxicating woody magnolia with a hint of vanilla—he smelt like an expensive candle from bath and body works. It was so comforting. You nibbled his neck and he let out a groan and ruts so deep into you that your breath catches in your throat, you let out a high pitched yelp which melts into a moan as he grinds his tip against your cervix a mind numbing sensation blows through you as his nails dig into your hips his girthy cock perfectly rubbing against all the right spots.

your legs clamped around him, drawing him deeper into you, your fingers taking down his back leaving angry red streaks in their wake. You threw your head back, your mouth gaping open in a silent wail “You’re close, Puppy. Me too. Come whenever you want, I’m right behind you.” He moaned, bracing himself on his elbows on top of you.

“Gonna come! Gonna comeee Ransom!” You squealed, he squeezed your clit between his fingers. Plasmid starburst exploded behind your eyelids, sweat collecting at your clavicle as a pleasurable numbness coats your whole being. Ransom fucked you through your orgasm, his thrust becoming unquardinated reaching his peak with a grunt. His messed up hair, damp with sweat drags across your forehead as his lips connect with yours in a compassionate kiss. You let your eyelids fall closed.

Ransom cleaned you up with a warm rag and carried you up to his room, he wanted you to feel safe, to feel comfortable, to feel wanted. He stroked your sleeping face, trying to memorise your peaceful expression. He never wanted to see you upset ever again, he promised he wouldn’t cause you sadness. The only tears he wanted to see was from the pleasure he gave you “Never stop chasing me. I need you, Puppy.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and leaning back letting out a content sigh. All he needed was you.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana

Say It Again

author: 8ball

summary: Zoro tells Sanji how he feels. And then again. and again.