#I might have to take another ap class this year by force :(

[inkyarcturus]

That feeling when you get a 5 on your AP 2D portfolio and a 4 on your AP Precalc exam B)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

American education has all the downsides of standardization, none of the upsides

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

We moved to America in 2015, in time for my kid to start third grade. Now she's a year away from graduating high school (!) and I've had a front-row seat for the US K-12 system in a district rated as one of the best in the country. There were ups and downs, but high school has been a monster.

We're a decade and a half into the "common core" experiment in educational standardization. The majority of the country has now signed up to a standardized and rigid curriculum that treats overworked teachers as untrustworthy slackers who need to be disciplined by measuring their output through standard lessons and evaluations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Core

This system is rigid enough, but it gets even worse at the secondary level, especially when combined with the Advanced Placement (AP) courses, which adds another layer of inflexible benchmarks to the highest-stakes, most anxiety-provoking classes in the system:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Placement

It is a system singularly lacking in grace. Ironically, this unforgiving system was sold as a way of correcting the injustice at the heart of the US public education system, which funds schools based on local taxation. That means that rich neighborhoods have better funded schools. Rather than equalizing public educational funding, the standardizers promised to ensure the quality of instruction at the worst-funded schools by measuring the educational outcomes with standard tools.

But the joke's on the middle-class families who backed standardized instruction over standardized funding. Their own kids need slack as much as anyone's, and a system that promises to put the nation's kids through the same benchmarks on the same timetable is bad for everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/28/give-me-slack-2/

Undoing this is above my pay-grade. I've already got more causes to crusade on than I have time for. But there is a piece of tantalyzingly low-hanging fruit that is dangling right there, and even though I'm not gonna pick it, I can't get it out of my head, so I figured I'd write about it and hope I can lazyweb it into existence.

The thing is, there's a reason that standardization takes hold in so many domains. Agreeing on a common standard enables collaboration by many entities without any need for explicit agreements or coordination. The existence of the ANSI/SAE J563 standard automobile auxiliary power outlet (AKA "car cigarette lighter") didn't just allow many manufacturers to make replacement lighter plugs. The existence of a standardized receptacle delivering standardized voltage to standardized contacts let all kinds of gadgets be designed to fit in that socket.

Standards crystallize the space of all possible ways of solving a problem into a range of solutions. This inevitably has a downside, because the standardized range might not be optimal for all applications. Think of the EU's requirement for USB-C charger tips on all devices. There's a lot of reasons that manufacturers prefer different charger tips for different gadgets. Some of those reasons are bad (gouging you on replacement chargers), but some are good (unique form-factor, specific smart-charging needs). USB-C is a very flexible standard (indeed, it's so flexible that some people complain that it's not a standard at all!) but there are some applications where the optimal solution is outside its parameters.

And still, I think that the standardization on USB-C is a force for good. I have drawers full of gadgets that need proprietary charger tips, and other drawers full of chargers with proprietary tips, and damned if I can make half of them match up. We've continued our pandemic lockdown tradition of my wife cutting my hair in the back yard, and just tracking the three different charger tips for the three clippers she uses is an ongoing source of frustration. I'd happily trade slightly sub-optimal charging for just being able to plug any of those clippers into the same cable I charge my headphones, phone, tablet and laptop on.

The standardization of American education has produced all the downsides of standardization – a rigid, often suboptimal, one-size-fits-all system – without the benefits. With teachers across America teaching in lockstep, often from the same set texts (especially in the AP courses), there's a massive opportunity for a commons to go with the common core.

For example, the AP English and History classes my kid takes use standard texts that are often centuries old and hard to puzzle out. I watched my kid struggle with texts for learning about "persuasive rhetoric" like 17th century pamphlets that inspired anti-indigenous pogroms with fictional accounts of "Indian atrocities."

It's good for American schoolkids to learn about the use of these blood libels to excuse genocide, but these pamphlets are a slog. Even with glossaries in the textbooks, it's a slow, word-by-word matter to parse these out. I can't imagine anyone learning a single thing about how speech persuades people just by reading that text.

But there's nothing in the standardized curriculum that prevents teachers from adding more texts to the unit. We live in an unfortunate golden age for persuasive texts that inspire terrible deeds – for example, kids could also read core Pizzagate texts and connect the guy who shot up the pizza parlor to the racists who formed a 17th century lynchmob.

But teachers are incredibly time-constrained. For one thing, at least a third of the AP classroom time seems to be taken up with detailed instructions for writing stilted, stylized "essays" for the AP tests (these are terrible writing, but they're easy to grade in a standardized way).

That's where standardization could actually deliver some benefits. If just one teacher could produce some supplemental materials and accompanying curriculum, the existence of standards means that every other teacher could use it. What's more, any adaptations that teachers make to that unit to make them suited to their kids would also work for the other teachers in the USA. And because the instruction is so rigidly standardized, all of these materials could be keyed to metadata that precisely identified the units they belonged to.

The closest thing we have to this are "marketplaces" where teachers can sell each other their supplementary materials. As far as I can tell, the only people making real money from these marketplaces are the grifters who built them and convinced teachers to paywall the instructional materials that could otherwise form a commons.

Like I said, I've got a completely overfull plate, but if I found myself at loose ends, trying to find a project to devote the rest of my life to, I'd be pitching funders on building a national, open access portal to build an educational commons.

It may be a lot to expect teachers to master the intricacies of peer-based co-production tools like Git, but there's already a system like this that K-8 teachers across the country have mastered: Scratch. Scratch is a graphic programming environment for kids, and starting with 2019's Scratch 3.0, the primary way to access it is via an in-browser version that's hosted at scratch.mit.edu.

Scratch's online version is basically a kid- (and teacher-)friendly version of Github. Find a project you like, make a copy in your own workspace, and then mod it to suit your own needs. The system keeps track of the lineage of different projects and makes it easy for Scratch users to find, adapt, and share their own projects. The wild popularity of this system tells us that this model for a managed digital commons for an educational audience is eminently achievable.

So when students are being asked to study the rhythm of text by counting the numbers of words in the sentences of important speeches, they could supplement that very boring exercise by listening to and analyzing contemporary election speeches, or rap lyrics, or viral influencer videos. Different teachers could fork these units to swap in locally appropriate comparitors – and so could students!

Students could be given extra credit for identifying additional materials that slot into existing curricular projects – Tiktok videos, new chart-topping songs, passages from hot YA novels. These, too, could go into the commons.

This would enlist students in developing and thinking critically about their curriculum, whereas today, these activities are often off-limits to students. For example, my kid's math teachers don't hand back their quizzes after they're graded. The teachers only have one set of quizzes per unit, and letting the kids hold onto them would leak an answer-key for the next batch of test-takers.

I can't imagine learning math this way. "You got three questions wrong but I won't let you see them" is no way to help a student focus on the right areas to improve their understanding.

But there's no reason that math teachers in a commons built around the (unfortunately) rigid procession of concepts and testing couldn't generate procedural quizzes, specified with a simple programming language. These tests could even be automatically graded, and produce classroom stats on which concepts the whole class is struggling with. Each quiz would be different, but cover the same ground.

When I help my kid with her homework, we often find disorganized and scattered elements of this system – a teacher might post extensive notes on teaching a specific unit. A publisher might produce a classroom guide that connects a book to specific parts of the common core. But these are scattered across the web, and they aren't keyed to the specific, standard components of common core and AP.

This is a standardized system that is all costs, no benefits. It has no "architecture of participation" that lets teachers, students, parents, practitioners and even commercial publishers collaborate to produce a commons that all may share and improve upon.

In an ideal world, we'd get rid of standardization in education, pay teachers well, give them the additional time they needed to prepare exciting and relevant curriculum, and fund all our schools based on need, not parents' income.

But in the meanwhile, we could be making lemonade of out lemons. If we're going to have standardization, we should at least have the collaboration standards enable.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/16/flexibility-in-the-margins/#a-commons

[realtalk-princeton]

I feel like everyone already has friend groups after freshman year but I don't know many people and have ever fewer friends. I'm pretty extroverted and like meeting people, but I feel like I'm so bad at making friends here. I tried to be sociable early on, but never met people I clicked with. it was so discouraging and I ended up being lonely. I'm really scared for soph year bc I feel like I don't know how to make friends here and become close to new people esp. when everyone already has groups

Response from Heisenberg:

Hey anon,

You probably have already heard of the general advice of joining clubs, attending a lot of events, etc. If you aren't already doing this, then you should! Cast a wide net.

But if you already are doing these things and it's still not working, then I totally understand where you're coming from too, and I want to reassure you that you're not alone in feeling this way. The transition to the college social climate can be challenging. In high school, you were practically forced to be friends with certain people be it from AP classes or a particular club from a less expansive clubs list. Basically, finding friends in high school is a lot simpler. In college, people's schedules can be sporadic and clubs ubiquitous (which can be a good or a bad thing). Moreover, it's one thing to meet people and be friendly, but it's another to actually establish a friendship with them, right?

Firstly, it's great that you're extroverted and enjoy meeting people—that's already a step in the right direction. A lot of people actually never even make it to this step. Sometimes it just takes time to find people you genuinely connect with, and that's okay. You still have a lot of time left.

It's also important to remember that friend groups are often not as set in stone as they may appear. During my freshman year, I was really close with my roommates and their friends, but our little extended friend group has since then grown apart, almost entirely. We're all still friendly to each other, but my social life and friend group now consist of some close friends who take a lot of the same classes that I do and members of my Eating Club.

As for groups, I wouldn't be telling the truth if I said it's easy to break into friend groups if one just tried hard enough. It's actually a really strange social phenomenon. I compare it to letting a stranger (person looking for friend group) join your family (an established friend group) for the night. At first, they'll probably be courteous and maybe even make you dinner for the night, but unless you have something to offer them (pset answers, "social status", etc.), they can be reluctant to continue their courtesy, as horrible as that sounds. Perhaps others can speak to the contrary of this, but it's what I have observed.

What might be easier is finding other individuals who are also looking to break into friend groups. If you click with them, hey, it could be the start of a completely new friend group!

Don't lose heart; friendships in college are often formed and solidified over the years, not just in the first two years. It can be disheartening to hear people say that "College was the best time of my life!" and "My closest friends today are my college friends." I think that's mostly survivorship bias. Those with little to no friends from college are not as vocal about it after graduating, so you only hear the success stories which just worsens any internal angst. Just keep putting yourself out there and stay positive.

Best of luck in your sophomore year!

[hotwings0203]

The Middle Ground

*Deep breath*

Woo. Okay. First of all I would like to thank everyone for 400 freaking followers. That is seriously so insane to me, I mean I’ve only been on Tumblr for like half a year.

This piece is a contribution to @bakugosbratx ‘s collaboration. It has around 40k words in total, so it’s my longest piece yet. Because Tumblr formatting is shit, I have provided an Ao3 link in case you like the chapter setup better there. I hope you all enjoy, and please please heed the warnings ahead!

Pairing: Bully!Fiance!Touya x F reader

Summary: You've been friends with Tenko Shimura for as long as you can remember...but when you're forced into an arranged marriage with Dabi, that friendship is put to a test.

TW: Noncon, bullying, language, Dabi and Hawks are scumbags, gangbang, graphic depictions of violence, gang violence, arranged marriage

Tags: @hi--rubi @bakugosbratx

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31747549

Touya Todoroki kicks out his legs and slumps into the limo seat. A permanent scowl has inhabited his petulant expression, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by his glaring father and uncomfortable family. It isn’t like he wanted to be here anyway, what were they expecting? Especially when they were practically planning out his whole life’s demise right in front of his eyes.

 Think he’s being dramatic?

 Try putting yourself in his shoes for a second: after being hounded by his ape-like father to put some hair gel on and to ‘take out those fiendish piercings, you look like a hooligan,’ he was also forced into a suit that felt more like a straight jacket. Worst of all, he had to keep a straight posture.

 It was complete, utter torture for the young rogue.

 Only after stalking and lurking around his mother for the entire day did Touya have it revealed to him that the place he had to dress up like a prissy for was none other than the house of who he was going to be betrothed to.

 Once the bomb was dropped, all hell broke loose in the Todoroki house not like that was anything new, merely hours away from leaving to greet the parents-in-law.

 “Is this a fucking joke? You people weren’t even gonna tell me where we were going until I had to beg like a dog!” Touya raged with balled-up fists, smoke curling from his elbows and shins as he stood in his parents’ room and interrogated his mother.

 “Language, Touya!” An exasperated Rei Todoroki sighed while ironing her and Fuyumi’s dresses. “You’re of age to get married, and you’re an adult now- you knew this was bound to happen soon.”

 “Come on, Touya, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll like her; her family is really well known in hero society for hosting the annual hero galas.” Fuyumi leaned against the doorframe behind her irate brother with her arms crossed, peering disappointedly at him from over the bridge of her glasses. “I’m pretty sure her parents even work in the Hero Commission headquarters, and as for the girl, I’ve heard so many good things about her from-”

 “I don’t give a damn about some elitist brat who I’m gonna have to coddle. And I’m still in school, I’m not licensed yet.” Touya snapped at both the women, Fuyumi rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she walked away. Rei let out another heavy sigh and finished up her meticulous ironing.

 “I just don’t understand why in the hell you’d tell me on the day of us meeting them, like why couldn’t I have a heads up?”

“Because then we’d have to put up with your little tantrums even more in advance. Plus, it's not like us telling you earlier would’ve changed the decision or your reaction,” Natsuo called out from his room across the hall.

 “You know, she’s not some random gold digger. I’m fairly certain her family is more wealthy than us, and by uniting our families, we’ll both have many advantages in society and for a healthy bloodline-”

 But Shoto’s chiming in was cut off with the sound of choking from Natsuo drinking something at his last words. Touya didn’t appreciate his least favorite sibling’s unwanted opinion, especially when it was about the topic of banging some prissy chick.

 He let Shoto know what he thought of his comment by whipping around with a snarl and towering over the youngest Todoroki.

 Well, not really towering since Shoto was quickly catching up to Touya in terms of height, a fact that Touya loathed admitting.

 “You-” he jabbed a finger into the other’s firm chest, “-are the last person I wanna hear sex advice from, got it? I doubt a social degenerate like you would even get pussy anyways from the way you can barely understand a joke or social cues.” (“What did I say about language, Touya!”)

 Natsuo was positively howling now, and Shoto merely shrugged his brother’s scarred finger off as Touya kept advancing on him and spitting venom. Rei was desperately trying to quell the disaster waiting to happen by raising her voice slightly and telling all her boys to back off and calm down, but she was cut off by Fuyumi calling out to ask for her dress.

 “ENOUGH!” 

 All the other Todorokis simultaneously jumped when they heard his booming voice. Enji Todoroki appeared in front of his family, no doubt growing increasingly irritated by the pandemonium happening. He glared around at them all until his eyes landed on Touya, who grew quiet but still held a scowl on his face. Endeavor’s eyes narrowed as he approached his heir, and Touya subconsciously straightened up taller.

 “You can’t make me do this. We’ve never had one single conversation about the topic of marriage, and you think I’m just gonna give in on the night you planned to make me into some domestic schmuck? Were you even going to tell me yourself before we left?” Touya growled, maintaining eye contact with his brutish father.

 “You’ll do as I say, Touya. Your duty comes to your family before any wish of becoming a hero. You need to stop acting like a delinquent, and a wife would do some good to tether you to reality-”

 “Oh, right, because you’d know all about how to be good to a family, right?” Touya burst out as he sneered and gestured to the scars littering his body.

 Even Natsuo had stopped snickering as the house grew deathly quiet. Fuyumi sucked in a soft inhale, Shoto simply stared while observing the spectacle in front of him, and Rei was stock-still.

 Endeavor didn’t back down from his son’s impertinence, however. Instead, he stepped forward until both men were chest-to-chest and looked at Touya straight into his face, purposely neglecting to ponder on the way his son’s lip trembled and his eyes twitched as if he wanted to rub them. He knew if he saw Touya as the pouty seven year old he once was and loved, he would give in.

 “You will do what I ask. Do not embarrass our family or me.”

 Touya’s jaw clenched as he tried to stare his father down, but after a couple of painstakingly long moments he finally looked away. Everyone let out their breaths and started to get their coats. That was that.

 End of discussion.

 Unbeknownst to him, however, he wasn’t the only one who had been saddled with this news recently.

 Your parents might not have told you on the day of said guests coming over, but you weren’t given an option to argue either.

 In fact, you were told so casually over dinner a few weeks ago that one would think you were the crazy one for “overreacting,” in the exact words of your parents to be more specific.

 “Honey, you’re almost done with your hero licensing school. It's about time you start thinking of your future asides from your job and internships,” your mother had gestured to you as her delicate hands picked up a wine glass.

 “Dad, seriously?” You asked in disbelief, fork suspended in midair. “I haven’t even graduated yet, plus you promised when I was done I could intern with you at the headquarters-!”

 But your father merely hummed disinterestedly as if the topic of your very imminent future could do with less talking and more of shoveling roast beef into his mouth.

 You incredulously turn to your mom, hoping for some reprieve.

 “I don’t even know his name. Who is he, and why did you choose him anyway?” you grouch, pouting and pushing the casserole on your plate around.

 “His name is Touya Todoroki, and he’s merely a year or two older than you. I’m sure you’ve heard of his father, Endeavor. He’s the number two hero, and I believe his other two children are closer to your age...Natsuo and Fuyumi? Their youngest son is Shoto, you must have seen his performance at the sports festival a little while ago.”

 “T-Touya?” You almost choke on your asparagus when you hear his name. “Mom, I’ve seen him like, three times throughout the entirety of me being at that school. And I heard he’s a complete menace too! He’s got a reputation, him and his stupid friends. I know for a fact they’ve been giving Tenko a hard time for the past year for no reason.”

 You’re not lying either. You’ve seen the intimidating black-haired boy skulking around some of your classes with his cronies in tow. It wasn’t like he shirked off his grades or anything; you were fairly certain he was pretty smart...when he tried, that is. When he wasn’t ditching class and giving his teachers a hard time, you usually saw him push your best friend Tenko Shimura around. This included shoving the quiet boy down the stairs, clapping him over the head a little too hard to be passed off as friendly, and childishly throwing spitballs and other trash at the back of his head. Fortunately, you’d never had the pleasure of meeting his highness personally, and so far, you’d been secretly grateful for only picking up his binders and homework off the floor of Tenko’s aftermath attacks rather than bearing the full brunt of Touya’s abuse. You weren’t even sure he knew you existed, and to be frank, you’d like to keep it that way.

 However, it seemed as though your parents didn’t share the same sentiments.

 Your father finally decided to give his piece, which wasn’t in your favor, surprise surprise.

 “A sturdy family, they are. We’ve invited them for dinner two weeks from now, so you better curb that attitude of yours well before they arrive. Our decision is final.”

 You stay quiet, opting not to argue any further and upset your parents. To be honest, you weren’t known to be too rebellious or spoiled for that matter. You were a straightforward child- you got good grades, you didn’t trouble yourself or your parents with any drama or school nonsense, and you put up a good family name when in the presence of outsiders. To say that you and your parents were joined at the hip would be a bit of a stretch, though. You simply did what they asked, and they rewarded you with anything you wanted. Nothing more and nothing less. It’s not like they forced you to do anything unreasonable except getting married to some degenerate, so you usually followed pursuit. 

 So, instead of causing a scene at the dinner table, you finish up your food, clear the table, and stomp upstairs in the sanctuary of your room. You flop on the bed, and just for good measure you pummel a pillow in front of you.

 This can’t be happening, you groan to yourself.

 After a couple of minutes of finishing your tantrum, you decide to call Tenko. He was definitely someone who’d share the same disdain for the name Touya Todoroki.

 You dial his number, and after a couple of rings he finally picked up.

 “Y/N? What’s up?”

 It takes less than 5 minutes for you to explain your ordeal, and he’s quiet for a few moments.

 “Tenko? You there?”

 “Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” he says slowly.

 “Well? What do you think?” You urge, needing him to reassure you you weren’t being unreasonable for not wanting an arranged marriage with some psycho delinquent, family name or not.

 “I mean, obviously it sucks ass, and I wouldn’t wanna get saddled with Tou-yuck as a fiance,” you giggle at the absurd nickname and he shares a low chuckle too. “But...I don’t know, I mean I kinda expected you to sound more upset about it.”

 “Don’t get me wrong, of course I'm pissed, man. But what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t really argue my way out of this, and even if I did, it would be so awkward between our families since his dad and my parents work so closely at the HC. I don’t think there's any way to properly react to this,” you finish helplessly, biting your lip.

 “Whatever. Just don’t expect me to throw rose petals and rice at him when he shoves me into the lockers after school,” Tenko says dryly, and you can’t help but scoff.

 “As if. Y’know, maybe that actually is a silver lining in all this. If we get engaged or whatever during the school year he might just go easy on you if he knows we’re friends.”

 “Hmm yeah, maybe we’ll hold hands and throw each other picnics too while we’re at it!” You can practically hear his eye roll over the phone. “Speaking of prince charming, what are you gonna wear when they come?”

 Which brings you back to now.

 T-minus 30 minutes until the Todorokis make their appearance through your front door.

 As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, there was no mistaking the butterflies in your stomach. You had adorned a warm knee-length dress to match the snow outside yet still look cute, meticulously done your hair in an up-do with some strands framing your face and light makeup. Your goal wasn’t to impress anyone but rather show the best natural side of you so that if any part of you wasn’t satisfactory to what met the Todorokis’ eye, they could still back out.

 You stand in front of the mirror and tilt your head slightly, assessing yourself. You look straight at your reflection and practice your bow. After feeling confident in your preparation, you decide to send a quick picture of yourself to Tenko to get his opinion.

 6:40: Looks okay?

 Not even two minutes later as you’re lacing up your flats does his notification pop up on your screen, and you smile at his punctuality.

 Ten-ten: You look great.👍 Don’t freak out okay? It’s not like anyone’s opinion should matter, especially not Tou-yuck’s

 6:45: Ugh, you’re right. Idk why I feel like I’m gonna throw up

 6:46: Oh fuck I think I hear their car

 Wait oh my god it's a limo wtf??

 When your parents call you down to greet the guests, you toss your phone on the bed and hobble across the room to close your lights and door. You don’t see the three dots coming up and disappearing as Tenko Shimura deletes the message of ‘actually, you look beautiful’ after reading your answer.

 ***************

 You frantically straighten out your dress and wipe your sweaty palms on your knees as you stand behind your parents when they open the door.

 First comes in the big man himself, a towering build of brute force and a stoic aura surrounding his presence. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t look angry. Your father and Enji shake hands and clap each other on their backs as your family moves back to make space for the rest of the family to enter. A woman you assume to be Rei shakes off the snow from her shoes before stepping inside the threshold, and when you make eye contact and greet her she smiles demurely at you.

 It warms your heart, much to your chagrin.

 Then, all time seems to stop as you see his shadow step in before he does. Your heart skips a beat or two and the wind swirls around him, causing snowflakes to latch onto his figure and obscure his face for a moment. 

 But when he fully comes into view, it does nothing to calm your heart that seems to be slamming against your ribcage.

 The white snowflakes blend into his porcelain-colored hair, which sticks out in little tufts although you could’ve sworn he had black hair at school…?. Dark purple patches cover underneath his eyes and the lower half of his face, along with small staples that seem to hold the skin up. However, his eyes are what captivate you the most, a bright turquoise that scrutinizes you under the glare of fluorescent lights.

 You freeze like a deer in headlights, hesitating a fraction of a second before bowing hastily to make up for the pause. Touya scoffs slightly before barely tilting his head and averting his eyes to your mother, who is ushering the rest of the family inside to the living room. Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Shoto follow after their eldest brother, all of them bowing more respectfully than the first sibling and giving you small smiles and waves.

 You trail behind to close the door, wanting to stall as long as possible before the inevitable bonding. As you turn from shutting the dark mahogany, you catch your dad’s eyes as he turns as well and you blanch obviously- needless to say, he isn’t amused and sends you a warning glare. 

 Taking a deep breath in a poor attempt to still your nerves, you walk as gracefully as you can to the living room, one foot in front of the other. As expected, when you cross into the area all light conversation stops as you reach a seat in one of the white leather loveseats. You can acutely feel Rei and Enji’s eyes especially trained on you as they observe their future daughter-in-law and her mannerisms. Luckily, your parents have given you years of practice in public events on how to act like the perfect little lady.

 Poised, calm, and collected, you recall the main attributes your parents had always said elders look for.

 “Y/N, was it? I believe you and Touya go to the same school?” Rei speaks up after you settle comfortably, and you can’t help but notice that although their family is known for ice cold or burning hot quirks, her voice reminds you of a good medium between the two; it sounds like springtime, a transition itself.

 You fidget uncomfortably before answering. “Yes ma'am, I think so. I might have seen him around the halls, and we may have had classes once or twice…” but you trail off as Touya coughs loudly, and rudely. He turns his head to look away from you not-so-subtly and the room temperature rises a few degrees as Endeavor’s mustache begins to flame. He glares at his son, but Touya stubbornly stares at the floor with an obvious scowl on his face.

 Well fuck you, too, you think as your smile begins to strain.

 Desperately, Fuyumi tries to fill in the silence by asking a follow up question.

 “Um, Y/N, what are you studying? Touya’s trying to get officially licensed at school so he can skip internships and just head straight to dad’s agency after he graduates.”

 “Well, since I don’t have a quirk I’m not doing any of the training courses, but my parents have some networks in the Hero Commision. Ultimately I decided to go into Department of Management and General Studies-”

 “Wait, you don’t have a quirk?” Touya surprisingly bursts out, eyes bulging out of their sockets. His voice is deep and grating, as if he spent his early days being a chainsmoker.

 “No, I don’t.” You say without missing a beat, increasingly getting a good feel of what type of person your fiance is and his possible superiority complex. “But as I was saying, even though I wasn’t born with a quirk I know I can succeed after my parents in aiding the Hero Commission and the annual galas. If I get licensed after graduation, I can kind of follow the same path as you in terms of skipping all the internships and stuff and get straight to work. Y’know, helping out in the foundations of future heroes is just as important as being an actual hero,” You say proudly as you stare straight at Touya.

 Your parents and a majority of the Todorokis nod in agreement, and the only one who doesn’t seem to share the same values as you rolls his eyes and mumbles under his breath.

 After that nice little ice breaker and a couple of other meaningless conversations between the other siblings and you, your mother finally decides to call in for dinner.

 You breathe out a sigh of relief and stand, your dress riding up your thighs for a moment as you get up. Out of the corner of your eye you see Touya glance momentarily at your slightly exposed legs before sliding up your body and finally meeting your eyes. He catches you staring and gives you a knowing smirk. Your face lights on fire and you look around to make sure no one is watching before you flip him the bird.

 He actually laughs, and you grimace as the butterflies in your stomach come back to life and travel up your throat.

 Natsuo turns around curiously to see the source of his brother’s rare gravely laugh. When he sees you both emerging out of the room at the same time, he flashes you a lopsided grin, very much akin to his brother’s.

 You shake your head, trying to quell the rising smile on your face as you take a seat at the marble table. Everyone finds their own chair, and much to your surprise Touya takes one right across from you. Whether or not it's a coincidence, you don’t want to get your hopes up.

 Chatter resumes as both sets of parents talk about recent hero news and the missions funded by the headquarters. Shoto and Fuyumi ladle takoyaki and ramen into their bowls while Touya picks at the miniscule helping of the other assortments and kaiseki on his glass plate. You decide to wait until everyone has finished taking food until you start digging in just to be polite, a fact that Natsuo pipes up on.

 “You don’t have to wait for us to finish y’know, we’ll just end up keep waiting on each other out of guilt.” he says kindly.

 “Oh, no worries. I just wanted to make sure you guys took enough-” but you’re cut off for the second time that evening by the same person, and it takes every ounce of self restraint you have not to dump the ramen bowl on his white hair.

 “Yeah, I mean we already know you’re so uptight, no need to shove it in our faces,” Touya rumbles and Natsuo swats his arm as he glances at you apologetically.

 “Sorry about him, he’s got a warped sense of humor.”

 “It’s fine, I get it. Some people just think they’re better ‘cuz of unseen reasons,even with lame quirks,” you snipe and you hear Shoto subtly snort into his cup.

 Touya’s nostrils flare and his forearm erupts in light blue flames. Endeavor and your parents are staring at you both, and it's not just his flames that warms your face.

 But Fuyumi, along with her ice quirk, seems to know just how to cool everyone down again.

 “Y/N, have you ever helped your parents out in any of the HC events?” she takes your hand in hers, and even though you expect cold palms, all you feel radiating off of her is warmth. She seemed to be saying I’m sorry about him.

 So for the time being, you decid to grit your teeth and bear it. It’s not like your parents were even pretending to care about his shitty attitude either, so why should you give in any more?

 “Yes, I have actually. A couple of months ago my parents were the sponsors of the annual Hero Gala, and I was the one who sent out the invitations to all the heroes and ensured their attendance. I even got to invite Gran Torino!” You can’t help but say animatedly-no matter how juvenile your excitement is, being in contact with pro-heroes was always exhilarating and nerve-wrecking.

 Hench the massive pools of sweat gathering under your armpits.

 And finally the youngest speaks up.

 “So out of all the heroes you’ve talked to or helped, which one’s your favorite?”

 “Uhhh probably Midnight, she's just so badass...and I won’t lie, she's pretty hot too,” you blush and Natuso whoops at the flush in your cheeks. Fuyumi laughs and agrees wholeheartedly, and even Shoto lets out a small smile Touya continues to pick at his sashimi as if no one had spoken.

  You marveled at how at home the Todoroki siblings make you feel, even in your own house. They went well together, and fill in the gaps where the other lacked.

 Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the one you were destined to marry.

 Nevertheless, the rest of the evening went by without any more mishaps or interruptions, thankfully. You and Rei had a couple of conversations too, about school and winter and what you liked to do in your free time. Even Enji spared a minute, but it wasn’t so much of a conversation as it was just a gruff ‘I hear from your father that you’re doing well in school. I might hire you at my agency if you surpass the other students’, and a meek ‘yessir, I’ll try my hardest’ from you. 

 When it was time to leave, you hugged Fuyumi and shook Natuso and Shoto’s hands along with giving proper bows to Rei and Enji. Only Touya was left, and you’d be damned if you made the first move of civility towards him. You settled for a little bow, peering up at him through your lashes. He mimicked the same motion he did when he first entered, a pathetic little head tilt that you assumed to be the world's worst impersonation of a bow. 

 But his eyes never left yours, and you couldn’t decipher the unreadable emotion swirling in his blue orbs as he watched your figure bend and lift again. Whatever it was, it didn’t exactly scream proper from the way he allowed his gaze to drop to your chest and thighs not-so-subtly. You shot him a glare and he met you with a sneer before whirling around to bid farewell to your parents.

 When the door finally shuts, your parents let out a sigh of relief and turn to you.

 “Well, what did you think? Wasn’t their family darling? Oh and Touya was so easy on the eyes too, I don’t think you’ll have any problems getting along with each other,” Your mother babbles incessantly, completely oblivious to you gawking at her.

 Is she serious? He acted like a total douche to me all night!

 “I agree with your mother. He seems like a solid young man and I know for a fact he’ll make a great husband. Now, Enji gave me Touya’s number and I gave him yours, so you should expect a text from Touya soon. It’s just a formality to overcome, and in addition I want you to let him know we were glad to host him and his family.” Your dad raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you groan, slapping a hand to your face.

 “Okay sure, whatever.” Your dad pulls out his phone and you watch glumly as he texts the number to you.

 “I’ll text him later, ‘gotta talk to Ten first,” you mutter as you begin bounding up the stairs.

 “No Y/N, you’ll do it now. Otherwise, no talking to Tenko. You need to start putting your fiance first instead of any other man.”

 You grit your teeth to prevent screaming and make a show of spinning on your heel to face your dad. Smashing your thumbs against the screen, you tap out a curt ‘Hey, this is Y/N. I got your number from my dad, just wanted to say thanks for coming over tonight.’

 Oh yeah. Tenko better not have any plans tonight, ‘cuz boy is he gonna get an earful of this evening’s events.

 *********

 Ping

 Touya’s phone buzzes in his hand, and the screen lights up the dark interior of the limo. He squints at the notification, and after seeing your name he scoffs disbelievingly.

 “Is it her?” Fuyumi asks excitedly.

 “Jesus, keep your fucking voice down, are you trying to announce it to mom?” Touya hisses, and rolls his eyes at his sister’s pout.

 All his siblings start clamoring over their seatbelts and each other’s shoes as they try to grab his phone to read the message he received, and it's all Touya can do to curse and ward them off by waving an inflamed arm towards their outreached grubby hands (thankfully Fuyumi easily distinguished his flames with a flick of her wrist, with a rather annoyed look on her face).

 By the time the Todorokis reach their house it's late and everyone stumbles inside, eager for warmth and a good shower. 

 But not Touya. 

 As soon as the limo is parked he slips off the driveway and trudges off the stone path to his own destination, quickly shooting his friend a text.

 “Touya?” he hears his brother calling to him from the lit up path of the driveway. “You comin’ or what?”

 “No, I’ll be back in a bit. Just tell them I went to sleep early or something, and don’t let anyone in my room while I’m gone,” Touya mutters.

 Natsuo wrinkles his nose and stuffs his hands in his pockets, countering the defensive look the latter was giving.

 “...bring me back a cig?”

 “Hell no, go the fuck inside, its freezing out here.” Touya snickers, and both boys laugh before heading off in their own ways.

 It takes Touya approximately 15 minutes to slink in and out of the shadows to reach the abandoned bar that resides outside the main city. He kicks a broken beer bottle out of the entrance and checks in the dark for a lack of presence before reaching behind the bar counter and fishing around the platform for-

 Bingo

 He omits a tiny blue spark out of his index finger as he slides into a barstool and lights the cigarette. Taking a long drag of the substance, he tilts his head back and closes his eyes as he exhales the fumes into the empty darkness.

 “Goddamn, just ‘cuz you’re immune to fire doesn’t mean we all are Touya,” a suave voice emerges from behind the counter.

 Not so empty after all, then.

 A dim light switches on and Touya squints to locate the source of the familiar sound. Red fills his vision as his friend’s wings spread, and he zooms in on the roguishly handsome face belonging to Keigo Takami.

 AKA Hawks.

 The blond makes an obnoxious show of coughing and waving the smoke away, and Touya merely takes another long puff just to blow it into Keigo’s face again.

 “So, how’d it go?” He asks, using his wings to wave the offensive fumes away from his pretty face.

 Touya shrugs and folds his arms on the counter, letting his head nestle on the cool granite. He closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of questions that was bound to come his way any minute.

 “Oh come on, don’t give me that bull, man. She can’t have been that bad right?”

“Her parents work for the HC. Maybe you should marry her instead,” Dabi shoots his friend a dark look and Keigo raises his hands in a guilty gesture. It was no secret that aside from their incognito vandalism and delinquency, the winged boy had plans to become a great hero at the heart of the HC itself.

 “Yeah well, regardless of who seals the deal, either way that’s another good, ah, network for me to know.” He snickers and Touya lazily thrusts a flaming hand at his head, which Keigo easily dodges.

 “This is serious man. I don’t wanna be some fucking homebody and raise a bunch of little shits along with having some bitch up my ass all the time.”

 “Is she hot at least?” Keigo presses, and Touya feels his eye twitch as his patience wears thinner by each word coming out of his mouth.

 “The fuck’s that got to do with any-? I mean, she was alright I guess, not too hard on the eyes…” he thinks for a moment before admitting, “she had sexy thighs, that's for sure. And an okay body overall.”

 Keigo whoops and claps Touya on the back, both of them grinning like madmen now.

 “That’s what I’m talking about, see now you’re getting the idea.”

 “And what’s that?” Touya turns to him fully now, intrigued as to how this could be for his benefit.

 “Look, you said she’s not too bad right? So that basically means you got full ownership of some hot chick, and you get to have full access to any records or information you want if she’s joined to the hip with some HC pawns.” The avian’s gold eyes flash and narrow as he thinks it over more.

 “This is a win win for you either way, and hey, if you make the missus your little bitch then maybe I get to reap some rewards too, huh?” He elbows Touya playfully.

 “Yeah...yeah that’s not a bad way of looking at it now that you mention it,” Keigo can practically see the gears turning in his friend’s head as he whips out his own phone.

 “What was her name again by the way? I just wanna see my dear sister-in-laws’ thighs myself,” He sneers as Touya quirks up the corners of his lip.

 “F/N? F/N L/N I think. God, she even texted me like, 10 minutes after we left. So fucking desperate,” Touya chuckles as he shows Keigo the message you sent.

 The blond’s wings ruffle behind him as he glances at Touya’s phone before thumbing through his own, checking each social media platform for any of your accounts. After a couple of seconds his eyes widen and he positively leers at the screen before shoving the device in the latter’s face.

 “Holy shit, I know this girl! Dude, you do too, we had like three classes with her before. I’m pretty sure she runs around with Rumi too. She’s uber smart, you had me thinking she’s some bimbo bitch, man. Oh, and she’s friends with Tenko by the way, just a lil’ heads up.”

 At the mention of the scrawny boy’s name, Touya snatches the phone from Keigo’s fingers and holds it mere inches away from his eyes so he could scan every part of you.

 “Tenko? Tenko Shimura? No fucking way, that guy’s a total tool. The hell is she doing hanging out with him?”

 “No idea, but I mean I’ve seen her hanging out with some other girls in the general department, so it’s not like she only knows him. Why, you’re not getting all protective and hubby-like on her already, right?” Keigo says slyly, thoroughly drinking in the way Touya’s eyes darken and his jaw clenches at such a blasphemic notion. It was so much fun to rile him up and not have to deal with the aftermath of his brash actions.

 “Fuck no. I just don’t want to be associated with a bitch who hangs around with pussies all day.”

 “Mm, yeah, I don’t think I could fuck with you either if he became some kind of sister-wife to you.”

 ********

Winter started to seep into spring, the transition being made evident by the arrival of cherry blossom trees blooming across the campus. New clothes were bought, markers and highlighters upgraded to reflect the new bright outside weather, and the students themselves were giddy to see each other after their winter break.

 You donned your white school uniform and fixed your tie in the mirror, opting to leave your hair down for the first day back.

 Ping

 Your phone’s screen lit up from the bed, and you grabbed it while slinging your bag over your shoulder.

 Ten-ten: I’m outside, bring me a bagel if you can. Dad was being an asshole so I skipped breakfast

 8:20: Gotcha, I’ll be out in 5

 Thundering downstairs, you absentmindedly noted your parents’ absence as usual, your pre-made breakfast on the table (courtesy of the MIA mother and father).

 Making a quick scan as to what you could quickly scarf down and what you could bring for Tenko, you decided to drink a glass of orange juice and bring a yogurt for yourself, as well as a large cinnamon bagel and a banana for him.

 Opening your front door always brought in the multicolored rays of the horizon that was one of your sole motivations of waking up early. You weren’t disappointed as you stepped onto your porch and breathed in the crisp morning air, the sakura leaves falling softly onto the ground. Pink and purple stripes fanned across the sky, the trees gently swaying with the breeze. At the end of your driveway stood your lanky best friend, his sickly green and grey skin standing out almost offensively against the beautiful morning scene. His long, spindly fingers raised up and wiggled slightly in a poor imitation of a wave as he saw you coming towards him. His school uniform looked a tad bit too big on his thin, frail bones that were scarcely covered by stretched out, scratched-beyond-belief skin. His indicolite hair fell across his face in scraggly waves, effectively covering his vermillion, beady eyes.

 You had never been so comforted by anyone else’s sight before.

 As you reached him, you tossed him the large bagel and he helped your overbearing food load by taking the banana stem from your teeth and holding it in his own large hands, one pinky outstretched.

 “You ready to go back?” You asked as you both began walking towards your school, which was a mere 15 minutes away from your house.

 “Hell no,” he scoffed before tearing a large chunk out of the bagel. “Mmfh, thanks for the bagel-”

 “-don’t talk with your mouth full-”

 “-but nah, I’m not ready for Vlad King’s excessive droning about HC paperwork. ``Stuff's a bore honestly, I wanna take more actual work studies time out.”

 “Oh yeah, you were saying earlier that your dad was gonna let you work with him at his business, right?”

 “Yeah he did. But, to be honest, I don’t really know what's worse- Vlad’s lectures or my dads’.”

 You swat his arm with a disapproving look as he laughs at your disdain.

 “Ten, he loves you okay?” You begin softly as you furrow your brows and look at the ground in contemplation. “He just...doesn’t know how to show you. He’s just scared you’ll end up like your grandm-”

 “Yeah okay, okay, I get it!” He yelps uncomfortably. Hearing any praise or defense for his father always put him in a tough spot since he didn’t want to accept the very hard fact that his dad did in fact love him-even if it was shown in weird ways.

 The two of you eventually reached the grand school, the front blue and golden themes coming into view as you rounded the corner and walked through the gates of the campus. 

 It was a nice sight to see everyone again; kids younger and older than you laughing and shoving friends around, students sitting on the school walls, and teachers lounging around the classes with the occasional “Get to class!”

 Tenko and you walk through the halls, navigating the way to your new classes and assessing each other’s schedules when you hear, “Hey, Y/N!”

 You turn and see some of your other friends, Rumi Mirko, Moe Kamiji, and Yu Takeyama approaching you with grins on their faces.

 Mirko waves her own peach colored schedule in her hand as she says, “Alright L/N, hand it over- I need to see which hunks you got in your classes.”

 You smirk before giving your own witty reply. “Apart from you? I think the bar’s been set too high, hun.”

 You playfully tug one of her ears and she squeals before chasing you in circles around your small group. Your jerky running causes Kamiji to bump into Tenko’s slender frame, and he lets out a little “oof!” before wincing and rubbing his sore arm.

 “Ohmygod, I’m so sorry Tenko!”

 “No worries, it’s cool.”

 “Hey, Tenko, I wanna see your schedule for a sec’,” Takeyama says slyly, fluttering her lashes at him before snatching his paper. “‘Gotta see if I got lucky this semester to finally have such a cutie like you in one of my classes,” She feigns a swoon at the poor boy, his face growing a violent shade of red as he commences his hemming and hawing. 

 “No she’s actually right though! I wanna see which classes I have to put in extra effort in not to fail if I’m ogling at this absolute sex god for the entirety of the period,” Mirko stops chasing you long enough to peer over Takeyama’s shoulder at his paper, and Tenko finally gives in his self restraint in a moment of vigorous neck-scratching relief.

 You shake your head in disbelief before absentmindedly pulling his hand away from his suffering neck, and Tenko doesn’t make a move to stop you.

 “Okay, enough already, leave this poor ‘sex god’ alone, your guys’s cleavage is gonna send him into cardiac arrest alone without the horny dialogue.” You say exasperatedly, and the victim himself flashes you a grateful look out of the corner of his eye.

 All three girls give you both nasty grins before making a fake show of ripping open each other's shirt buttons and feeling their sides up with lewd moans.

 Just to play along and to spare Tenko’s sputtering and massively sweating self the embarrassment, you cover his eyes with a hand and shoot the girls a dirty yet humorous look.

 “Alright then, miss high and mighty, were you lucky enough to have your homeroom with Cupid over here?” Mirko asks, Kamiji and Takeyama nodding eagerly behind her.

 “I was, actually. Did you get anyone worth the look?” You say, beaming at a very sweaty Tenko.

 “No,” She pouted, her large ears dropping visibly. “But I really wish I could’ve gotten…” and she trails off as her focus narrows on something behind her, her nose twitching in excitement as her face morphs into a sultry expression. You, along with everyone else, turn to see what captured Mirko’s attention.

 “Speak of the devil,” she mutters, nudging you and the other entranced girls.

 And there he is in all his glory. One of the school’s most notorious playboys, Hawks himself-he spots your little reunion, and saunters his way past the sea of kids who part their way to make room for his highness. His blond hair glows in the early morning light, reflecting the golden and brown streaks that embed themselves through his locks. His teeth gleam a blinding white as he smiles at Mirko, coming up behind her (to her utter satisfaction).

 But it's not Hawks that makes your heart pound.

 It's his black haired buddy that you became betrothed to not too long ago that makes the butterflies in your stomach come alive again.

 He has a bored, brooding look on his face as him and Hawks approach your group. His hands are in his pockets and his body language is so sluggish and lazy that you’d think he has a million other places to be at 8:45 in the morning. In fact, the only indication you get that he sees you is when his icy eyes flit over to yours or rather, your body, and he raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

 I wonder if his family knows he dyes his hair at school? Or, when does he actually have the time to do that?

You snap your focus away from him, saving yourself the embarrassment of gawking at him before looking at the spectacle Hawks and Mirko were proudly showing off.

 He circled his arms around her shoulders and neck, resting his head against her soft skin. She giggles and swats his other straying hand away from underneath her skirt while the rest of you roll your eyes in disgust as Mirko croons, “I didn’t hear back from you for a while, you had me worried for a moment there hot stuff.”

 Hawks’s velvety words cut through the air like butter, his voice dropping a few octaves when he chuckles into her neck.

 “Sorry about that babe, ‘was training pretty hard for some time, got distracted and all that. But you’re up for next weekend, yeah?”

 It’s enough to placate the eager bunny and make you and Tenko gag internally for the meantime. “Mmm, only if you call me tonight,” she nuzzles into his hair. It was no secret (evidently) that the two were fucking, his smooth voice and sauve personality miraculously calming the eccentric and bold girl down. You didn’t come in contact with Hawks a lot, but you did unfortunately hear about his stamina from your girlfriend and see the way he undressed other girls in the hallways solely with his eyes enough to know that he wasn’t someone you wanted to spend your heart and time on.

 Which is why you did a double take when you realized his honey colored orbs settled on you.

 “L/N, right? How’ve you been?” His lids were lowered, the corners of his lips pulled up.

 You stutter a moment before answering lamely, “Uh, I-I’ve been good, thanks.”

 But it seems like he was more than overjoyed with your response from the way his smile widened and he lifted his head from Rumi’s neck to see you more clearly.

 “Yeah? Make any new friends over the break? Maybe got yourself a little boyfriend?” Hawks turns his gaze ever so slightly to his left, and you follow his eyes as they also land on Touya.

 You swallow thickly as you feel heat crawl up your neck to your face, your palms feeling slick as you register his meaning.

 He knows.

 And Tenko knows it too, from the way he side-eyes you concernedly, but staying silent (probably for his own sake, which was valid). Your “boyfriend” snarls quietly at Hawks, his balled fists turning a bright blue as they begin to heat up, much to the instigator’s amusement.  Touya never makes eye contact with you throughout the whole exchange, though.

 “Whaaatttt?” Kamiiji, Mirko, and Takeyama squeal obnoxiously, evidently intrigued at the notion of you being involved with a mystery man. “No fucking way, who is it?”

 “Well-he- I mean, my parents kinda set us up…” You stammer mortified, caught between telling the truth or not. It was obvious Touya hadn’t told anyone apart from his closest friend, otherwise Rumi would have for sure found out through Hawks with Touya’s permission.

 You wish you didn’t feel your heart drop a little at the thought of Touya so obviously wanting to keep your relationship with him under wraps. Were you really so embarrassing to be associated with?

 But you’re saved from your internal battle when Tenko pipes up at his own expense.

 Thank god.

 “It doesn’t matter, it's not like they’re married or whatever-”

 Yet. At least it's part of the truth.

 “-come on Y/N, we should head to class,” Tenko looks at you meaningfully, and wanting to head out of the limelight before-

 “Ahh, Shimura! Almost didn’t notice you there, buddy. You’re so quiet, it's easy to forget you’re there, y’know?” Hawks says gleefully as he throws an arm around the anxious boy’s boney shoulders and flashes a knowing smile at Touya, who mirrors Hawks’ saccharin expression.

 Tenko refuses to rise to the backhanded comment, opting to nervously scratch his neck and you quickly pinch your fingers to avoid reaching out and pushing the ravaging hand away and nodding his head weakly. 

 Touya comes on his opposite side, also wrapping a patched arm around Tenko’s other side so that the poor victim is trapped between the two bloodthirsty boys. They start steering him away from the group, and you stand there, trying to decide to butt in or join the oblivious girls who start making their way to class, chattering amongst themselves.

 Your dad’s words come back to you.

 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.

 Fine.

 This is going to be killing two birds with one stone anyways. You technically were going to be putting Touya first by letting him know what you did or didn’t like. The start of your rocky relationship had to have foundations on some form of do’s and don'ts for either of you, right?

 And so, taking a deep breath, you march a couple meters up to the three boys, hearing sickening phrases of “grease-stain”, and “worthless little piece of shit, since when did you talk to girls?”, gently take an empty space of your friend’s shoulder that isn’t preoccupied by either tan or patched arm, and pull him around so that he’s facing you.

 Unfortunately, you didn’t think to account for the other two who would no doubt keep an iron-grip on Tenko, so you’re left holding onto him while Touya and Hawks are staring disbelievingly and amused at you respectively.

 “Tenko and I have to go to class,” you say quietly yet firmly as you ignore the spindly boy’s gaping at your audacity. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call him a grease-stain, or anything otherwise offensive.”

 You continue, mustering the last of your bravery as you finally address your fiance, or whatever the hell he was to you at this moment.

 “Look, Touya, it’s obvious Hawks knows, and I told Tenko too. I won’t tell anyone else, though, if you’re not comfortable with it. But I want you to please start respecting my friends, and in return me as well if we’re gonna be engaged.” It’s so hard to maintain eye contact with him while his blown-wide, furious blue oceans are burning holes into your face.

 “You little bitch,” Touya starts on you to your utter dismay, but Hawks hold an arm out to prevent him from advancing on you any further. Even Tenko moves slightly in front of you to shield you from harm, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed, but rather, adds to Touya’s irate state.

 In fact, if he didn’t realize, or didn't want to acknowledge your kinsmanship with Tenko, he certainly had to now.

 Because not only does Tenko move in front of you, but the second Touya falters he takes the opportunity to propel you forward, covering almost 3 feet’s worth of a distance in one stride as he pushes you away from both men and down the hall, blindly following the signs to land the two of you in your designated homeroom. It all happens so suddenly with your surroundings flashing by you from Tenko’s sheer speed that you almost get whiplash as he continues to push you through the entrance of the class, and right into the first empty seat he sees towards the back of the room.

 He pants slightly for a minute, staring down at your seated form intensely before sitting in the empty seat right in front of you. As he pulls in the chair, you finally speak in a mix of frustration and gratitude.

 “Ten, I had it covered! You didn’t have to do that, Hawks had him too, it wasn’t like he was gonna-”

 “No, you don’t understand Y/N. They’re messed up in the head, they would do something fucked up, and the worst part is they wouldn’t even care if it was in the open. Hell, you’re his-”

 He whips his head around before whispering the rest to you.

 “-his fiance, and look how he reacted! He’s dangerous Y/N, you need to be more careful-”

 “Tenko, I’m not gonna be scared of the dude I’m engaged to,” you roll your eyes. “Okay sure, he’s a complete asshole to you and me, but he’s got too much to lose to actually do something real.”

 But the rattled boy wasn’t convinced as he shook his head at your naivety. It wouldn’t do to tell you about all the times they used their quirk on him, having years of training before he did, essentially rendering him useless to fight back or stand up for himself. He didn’t think you’d believe him if he told you that merely a week ago they got in contact with some friends involved with the Yakuza to beat him into a pulp on his way home from school, simply because it made them laugh, it made them happy. And he certainly didn’t want you to have any fights with your beloved fiance because of the way they would push him down onto the gravel behind school after quirk training sessions, use their feathers and fire to burn and rip his clothes apart, and heat up the bigger rocks on the ground until they were burning coals as vermillion feathers aided in throwing the small missiles at him. He would come home in burns, bruises, and cuts that were easy to excuse from the similar treatment he got from his father.

 That’s one of the only good things about his father, in hindsight. He built up Tenko’s immunity to these things, simply teaching him that these were the ways of life. You either eat, or get eaten.

 So no, it wouldn’t do well to tell Y/N any of these things.

 The bell rang, pulling you both from your back-and-forth arguing into a silent state along with the rest of the class. Your teacher, Vlad King, enters the room and almost fills up the doorway as he makes his way to the blackboard.

 “Good morning class. I hope you all had a relaxing winter break-but not too relaxing, as I expect you all should’ve reviewed last semester’s notes.” He looks pointedly around the room, the class filled with a mixture of scoffs, laughter, and groans.

 You and Tenko share an exhausted smile and simultaneously roll your eyes at your teacher’s academic reach.

 “But, there is one announcement I’d like to make before we start today’s lesson. Due to some parents feeling as though their kids aren’t receiving enough variety in terms of quirk training and the business side, along with the logistics of the hero world, me and a few other teachers have agreed to switching out some students after a period of time to experience the other classes, and the materials that go along with them.”

 “So, because of this change, we will be receiving some new students in our class today, as well as taking some out. But fear not! You will still have the same lunches as your friends and be able to see them in between classes.” He walks over to the door while talking, and you raise your eyebrows at Tenko. He shrugs as well, similarly clueless as to what your teacher meant.

 But you needn’t be confused any longer, because when he turns the door handle and opens the door, a slew of students trickled in.

 And much to your utter horror, Hawks and Touya saunter in as well.

 Your eyes widen and instinctively you slouch in your seat trying to make yourself unnoticeable and smaller. You see Tenko stiffen as well, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

 The scratching commences, too, and you quickly kick a leg out to meet the side of his chair to deter him from it.

 From the front of the classroom, all the students that were switching into your room are lined up, ready to introduce themselves.

 They all go, one by one, and as meaningless names float in and out of your attention, you risk a look at the two who had you practically shaking in your seat.

 You wished you hadn’t.

 Thing One and Thing Two were looking straight at you, your slouching proving to be unfruitful. Thing One was smugly looking at you, taking his sweet time for his eyes to note your hair, clothes, demeanor, and lingering in some places that were less than appropriate. Thing Two was glaring at you, gaze narrowed as his hands were stuffed in his pockets and by no doubt did you think he had taken your words from earlier with appreciation.

 It was too early. You didn’t want to hear what they had to say about your little speech so soon, especially when you saw how Touya took your words as an insult rather than an attempt to understand you and improve your relationship with him.

 Finally, it was their turn to introduce themselves to the class.

 “Hey, guys. You can just call me Hawks, no need for formalities,” the blond shrugs casually, seeing Vald King’s unimpressed expression and giving him a charming smile. You hear a couple of girls fake screaming his name as he introduces himself, and Hawks flashes a round of winks and finger guns at his fangirls, much to your disgust.

 “The name’s Dabi,” and your attention is turned to him once again. His voice is gruff, yet clear, and as charming of an aura Hawks gave off with the noises of various swoons, your fiance’s introduction prompts nothing but a deadly silent classroom, the occasional paper-turning and small murmurs echoing throughout the room.

 Tenko turns slightly in his seat to you and gives you another meaningful look. You both knew what each other were thinking.

 That’s right, he goes by the name Dabi here. I shouldn’t risk calling him by his real name around others, he might get upset at the informality.

 The rest of the students chime in with their names, and finally your teacher claps his hands, gathering your attention back to him.

 “Alright everyone, now that you all know the new students, say goodbye to your transitioning classmates and wish them luck in their new classes. Hajime, Setsuna, Tenko, and Kai, please pack your belongings and report to class 3-A.”

 You whip your head around in horror at Tenko who has gone stock still. The boy behind you, Setsuna, starts packing his things and grumbling under his breath. Tenko slowly begins to put his binders and pencils in his bag, not having the courage to look at your helpless expression.

 You feel like you were being thrown to the dogs, a piece of meat ready to be torn apart and ripped to shreds.

 Vlad King notices Tenko’s dawdling, and barks out “Hurry it up Shimura, we don’t have all day and these students need seats!”

 At this, both Hawks and Dabi’s heads turn to the both of you, and if they hadn’t noticed the disposition of you both, they damn well did now. You see Dabi’s eyes trail to something behind you and the corners of his mouth quirk up a bit.

 Setsuna gets up from his seat behind yours, and passes to the front of the class along with the rest of the stragglers.

 Oh, fuck. Please don’t let them sit here, please please ple-

 But it seems that you had previous karma to atone for, because the moment you start praying, both boys start making their way towards you. You shrink even lower in your seat, wishing desperately that you had brought a hoodie to wear to at least cover your face from this torture.

 It was only when Tenko finally packed his things and stood up at the side of his seat in front of you that Dabi and Hawks stopped stalking towards the seats that sandwiched you. He blocks their path and predatory looks, giving you a second’s reprieve of sheer panic. There is a tense moment where Dabi stands directly in front of Tenko, sizing him up and looking him down. You vaguely hear Ten murmur something to him, and Dabi lets out a loud scoff, elbowing the thin boy out of his way.

 You half rise out of your seat, naturally wanting to intervene as Tenko winces and grips his wounded side, but he quickly looks over his shoulder and shakes his head minutely, as if warning you to stay put. In the midst of you standing up however, Dabi moves forward, leaving you face to face with him.

 For the second time that day, you were in very close proximity to him, much to your discomfort. His blue eyes scorch your soul, much like the small blue flames emitting from the sides of his forearms. He narrows his gaze at you and stares at you until you relent and slowly sit back down. You can feel his eyes still on your form as he halfway circles around you and sits in the empty seat behind you. Hawks watches all of this in great amusement, and winks at you as he usurps Tenko’s seat in front of you.

 That’s just fucking great.

 Your fate is sealed as you look at the front of the room and watch Tenko give you a worried look as he’s ushered outside in the wave of kids exiting the room. The door slams shut as Vlad King closes it behind him, and the class is noticeably quieter as the lesson starts, some boring shit about submitting paperwork on time in an office setting and how to deal with setbacks.

 You try to focus as much as you can, but it's hard to ignore the way the back of your desk leg is being repeatedly slammed against any time Vlad King raises his voice, so the sound is muted to everyone but you. You grit your teeth and grip your pencil harder, almost breaking the lead when almost two minutes later you smell singed hair.

 And singed hair it was, all yours in fact as you frantically gather your hair in your hands and see burnt stands breaking off in your trembling fingers. In complete fury now, you whip around and harshly whisper, “Can you please stop-”

 “You got some fuckin’ nerve, you know that? Hangin’ out with that freak, and then defending him-especially in front of me. As if that’s not bad enough, you got the balls to ignore me when you owe me an apology.”

 You gape at him and even let out a little disbelieving laugh at his words. He said you had some nerve when he’s the one asking for an apology? 

 “Apologize for what, exactly? Stopping you from harassing Tenko and calling him offensive names?”

 His eyes widen mockingly, his eyebrows raised as the staples around his mouth tremble in his effort to not burst out laughing at your indignation.

 “I’m not harassing him. He should be glad we’re even approaching him, we’re like the closest things to friends he has. Why do you think he only hangs with you? It’s ‘cause you're the only braindead idiot in this school who doesn’t realize what a creep he is. And as for the ‘offensive names’, it can’t be offensive if it's true. He is a f-”

 Your ears start ringing as you feel like he’s pushing you past your breaking point. You can’t bear to hear any more slander against one of your closest friends, but as you try to whip around to face the front Dabi quickly catches onto one of your wrists, preventing you from turning away from him any more. His staples holding his scarred sin together dig into your flesh, and you quietly whimper in pain as you try to wrench your hand free.

 He simply tightens his grip and jerks you forward, causing you to practically fall out of your seat as he leans in close.

 “Don’t try to move away from me, Y/N. You were practically thrown at me, and that means you’ll do whatever the fuck I want, when I want.”

 You look up at him with glassy eyes, hair messily covering your face from the rough treatment. He looks almost thoughtful, the closest thing to a soft emotion you’ve seen from him yet as he brushes the hair from out of your face and behind your ear. 

 “And right now, your fiance wants you to stop hanging out with Shimura. Permanently.”

 **********

It’s less of a school bell and more like a trumpet from heaven when the indication of the class ending rings throughout the school. You had already packed your bag almost 10 minutes before the bell rang, not wanting to waste a second of the opportunity to make a mad dash away from Dabi.

 But you needn’t worry, because while you were practically sprinting down the halls looking for Tenko’s class, Dabi and Hawks were leisurely taking their sweet time packing up their bags, which were a little too light for anything deemed studious.

 Hawks chuckles after your form stumbled out of the classroom. “What’s gotten into her? Scared her off already?”

 “Something like that,” Dabi scoffs humourlessly. “ I just told her to stop fuckin’ around with Shimura.”

 “Man, and here I thought we were gonna take it easy on her for her first day.” Hawks tuts, shaking his head mockingly so that his blond locks fall handsomely around his face. “You’re breaking her in like a dog, Dabi.”

 But Dabi could care less about the timing of your inevitable breaking. He shoulders his bag and runs a hand through his hair, careful enough not to dislodge the black dye.

 They both walk out of the room to the next class, Hawks sending random girls an appreciative  up-down look that lead to eruptions of teasing giggles along the halls. “Regardless of how or when I break her-which, by the way, is gonna happen hard ‘cause there’s no fuckin’ way I’m putting up with her bitchy attitude-I’m not gonna let that walking mistake hang out with her anymore. He’s dead weight to anyone, and it’s so embarrassing to see how big of a boner he gets when she looks at him.”

 “That's the spirit,” Hawks clapped him on the back, steering him around the corner to their next class.

 “By the way man, you know we have lunch with her too, right?”

 **********

“And then he burned my hair!” You cry indignantly, folding your arms and leaning against the wall next to Tenko who was waiting in line for mediocre cafeteria food.

 “See? I told you, he’s dangerous. Him and Hawks both have a messed up sense of humor, and they have no shame in it either. You need to be more careful around them Y/N, don’t piss Dabi off especially, please.” He murmurs, looking at you through his bluish white bangs. You pick up a banana and plop it onto his green tray, causing him to whine about ‘NPC’s poisoning the crappy facility food’. Whatever that meant.

 “It’s healthy, you need it,” you shoot him a disapproving glare and pointedly lift one of his free spindly arms, gesturing to the lack of meat on his skin.

 “Okay mom,” he sneers as you pluck a Twinkie from his tray and transfer it to yours with an innocent smile as you do so.

 You both reach the end of the line and you wait as Tenko checks out. Looking around, it seems like the cafeteria is filled, so you elect to eat outside on one of the benches.

 “But, anyways,” you continue your conversation from earlier, “is that how they always are? How do you deal with it?”

 “Well, usually if you try to stay out of their way and just do as they do, both of ‘em will leave you alone.” He says uncomfortably, opening the courtyard doors for you with nine fingers as you quickly hold his tray to minimize the effort.

 “I usually try to think of them as the boss battle. If you avoid them, you’ll have a peaceful day. But if you try picking a fight with them, then you’ll take massive damage.” He shudders as flashbacks of burning rocks pelting his skin and ripped clothes enter his vision.

You scan the area looking for a quiet place to sit among the pink ground littered with cherry blossom petals, and find relief when you see Rumi, Takeyama and Kamiji scattered around a bench on the farthest side of the building. You call out for them and all three of them simultaneously turn and wave excitedly at you to come over.

 The grass feels lush and soft under your feet as the sakura petals swirl around you both as you cross the school grounds. You got lucky eating outside with this weather, and you internally want to make it a habit to come outside if the skies stay clear and blue like today’s.

 “Hey you two! Lucky you both are in our lunches too, huh?” Rumi smiles wide as Takeyama tosses you a cherry Ramune. Kamiji scooches over on top of the wooden table to make room for you to sit as Tenko takes a place on the seat itself.

 “Yeah, we didn’t have you all last year so I’m glad your schedules coincide with ours. How was class?” You press down on the little ball at the top of your Ramune lid and watch as it drops and fizzles in the substance. Tenko eyes it with interest, so you pass it his way and watch amusedly as he snaps open the top and practically chugs the whole thing in one go, precariously holding a finger out while he does so.

 “Ugh, don’t get me started. Midnight’s tits were bouncing in my face the whole time, I couldn’t keep my eyes on my paper.” Takeyama swats Rumi’s white ears as Kamiji bursts out laughing.

 “God, you’re so vile. But I can’t lie, she definitely improved her fit from last year.” Yuu says with a snort.

 “She’s such a badass, I’d totally ask her hand in marriage if I wasn’t getting saddled with-” But you freeze mid-sentence, face heating up as you catch your mistake.

 Tenko chokes on the drink, the girls squealing in disgust as Ramune spews out of his nostrils. You stammer, trying to cover up your tracks but there’s no need to as the focal point of the conversation turns to something behind you.

 “Oh my god, what are they doing here?” Kamiji whispers in awe.

 You whip your head around, and for the third time that day, your heart sinks to your ass.

 **********

 “Where is she, anyways? I don’t see her in here,” Dabi tries to ask disinterestedly as he casually sweeps his eyes around the crowded hall.

 “Ahhh, the pining begins, I see. Don’t worry, Rumi has the same lunch with us, so my best guess is she’s with her.” Hawks chomps on a piece of chicken, somehow managing not to spill any teriyaki sauce on his jacket.

 “Shut up birdbrain, I’m not pining. I just wanna make sure she’s not embarrassing me any more than she already has,” Dabi drones, cuffing the blond upside his head.

 “Question: how is she embarrassing you if no one knows you two are engaged?” His red wings flutter with glee as he catches Dabi giving him a dark look, opting not to answer.

 “You’re not answering my ques-tion”, Hawks sings, thoroughly basking in the catching Dabi’s ulterior motives.

 “And I’m not gonna answer either. Just tell me where she sits, idiot.” Dabi snaps, getting antsier by the second. 

 “Alright, alright, cool your head, matchstick. Rumi usually sits outside, so let’s check there. But hurry up ‘cause I’m hungry” Hawks whines as they make their way to the outside doors.

 They too are greeted with the same colors of pink sakura and bright well-kept grass, along with clear blue skies. But all Dabi sees is red when his gaze finally looks around and sees you with your friends...including Tenko Shimura.

 Hawks sees you too, and whistles as he glances back at Dabi’s face. If looks could kill, you’d be a burning pile of ash right now.

 “I swear to fucking god, I’m gonna kill them both.” Dabi growls as he begins to stalk towards your group. And of course, his friend joins in too, if not to just watch the episode that will unfold, but rather to actually prevent Dabi from causing any lasting damage...at least, on school property, that is.

 At the sound of your animated laughter and voice, the inky black mess of hair snaps up.

 He doesn’t like the way his heart clenches when the sight of you registers.

 Your laugh is a mix of soft giggles that crescendos into crazed wheezes that are accompanied by breathless snorts.

 It sounds so fucking ugly and obnoxious.

 He wants to hear more of it.

 Your hands wave around wildly as you animate your story with various gestures, sometimes throwing your arms out in the air and then bringing them close together to emphasize something else.

 Who the hell uses hand gestures?

 What do your hands feel like? Are they soft, or rough? Are they bigger or smaller than his? 

 What would they feel like if they caressed his skin? If they slapped him?

 Dabi is 20 feet away, and you still haven’t noticed him stalking towards you yet.

 Your head is thrown back now, hair shaking as you screech with laughter, your face scrunched up in laughter.

 He should’ve burned the rest of your hair, too.

 What would the material feel like through his fingers if he yanked the strands? If he caressed them slowly, in the dark?

 Why the fuck am I thinking about that?

 Your laughter has stopped now, the air eerily quiet. Dabi makes straight eye contact with you as he sees you've finally noticed him, as he watches Rumi whisper something to the group.

 He sees Tenko look panic-stricken, fumbling around his lunch to pack up and no doubt get the hell out of there.

 But not you, though.

 You just stare at him like he’s a wild animal, like you don’t know why he’s coming towards you so fast and with such purpose.

 He’s glad your eyes are on him. Property should know who it’s attention should be on, and who to cater to.

 He just wishes your eyes weren’t filled with so much fear. It’s making his heart squeeze and it feels weird. He doesn’t like it.

 “Hey Rumi. Yuu, Moe, how are you ladies doing?” He hears Hawk’s smooth voice flow into the air and join in with the falling of the soft tree petals as well.

 “Hey Hawks,” they drawl, no doubt excited to be blessed with his presence.

 Only you and Tenko stay quiet, the latter looking uncomfortably at his feet while you simply stare at Dabi.

 “I see you ladies are all enjoying the weather tod-”

 “-What the fuck are you doing here?” Dabi rudely interrupts the would-be smooth transition into conversation, but at the moment he doesn't care. He wants to know why the hell you so obviously ignored what he said earlier, and where the fuck you found the balls to blatanlty piss him off.

 But you stay silent, and stare at him further, eyes widening marginally like a deer in headlights.

 His heavy presence brings the feeling of death, the onslaught of dread, and it invades the group’s senses like the plague. His flashing arctic eyes scream murder, his balled hands reflect nothing but danger, and his set-mouth indicates that anything that comes out of it will end in vicious tears and a broken body.

 It contrasts so weirdly with his counterpart, who has a kilowatt smile that stretches from one ear to the other, his teeth gleaming so blindingly similar to the sun that it was another reason you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for too long. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, showing no sign of lashing out and causing strife. The yellow sky rays bounced off his back, making him glow with heavenly golden light like an angel, and his eyes....oh lord, his honey colored hues swam with mischief; untold secrets ladeled into his ears in the dead of the night when he would lie side to side with multiple women of all shapes, colors, and sizes.

 But either way, regardless of the mismatched auras of the two, they both brought chaos and hell in their own ways, subtle or not.

 “Uhhh, ladies, why don’t I treat you to some of the school’s finest soba?” Hawks chuckles and scratches the back of his head before offering a hand to Rumi. “It seems like Dabi here needs to have a conversation with Y/N in private.”

 Rumi takes his hand and offers her own to Kamiji and Takeyama, who all pull each other up and look at you curiously. They’re smart enough not to ask openly, though. No sense in making things more awkward than they already are.

 Tenko tries to subtly get up as well, but is stopped when Dabi snarls, “You stay there. You and I are gonna have a conversation as well, fucktard.” He looks directly at you as he hurls the insult at the gangly boy, who flinches as if the words were knives.

You nap out of your horrified reverie.

 “Uhhh, well, we’ll see you around, I guess.” Kamiji calls from over her shoulder at you, her face sympathetic as Hawks’s arm circles around her shoulders and pulls her closer, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.

 “Tenko, you can leave. Whatever patchwork here has to say has nothing to do with you. It’s between us, as my fiance.” You deadpan and return his ice-cold stare.

 The poor boy looks between his tormentor and saviour, conflicted as to what he should do. While Dabi’s arms and legs are starting to alight, you remain calm as ever perched on the table as if the petals littered on the ground weren’t silently catching fire.

 “If you get off the ground, I promise you won’t leave here with all your limbs intact.” The flame user says lowly, his voice catching on the gravely rasp of his threatening words.

 “Tenko. Please leave.” You say with finality, crossing your arms.

 A tense moment passes between all three of you, Tenko sweating bullets. He slowly starts to build his limbs up to a stand, his height matching Dabi’s yet somehow still cowering over the striking look he was receiving from him. He hesitates for a moment before sticking a cautious leg out towards where the other four departed people went, as if he were testing the waters.

 Dabi copies you and merely stares him down.

 His expression is unreadable as Tenko moves another leg out, and another as his body starts functioning properly and jerkily walks away from the two of you. Miraculously, Dabi is letting him, not seeming too keen on fulfilling his past promise of detaching his anatomy in favor of getting to you now.

 And then there was one. 

 You both look away from Tenko’s disappearing figure and finally at each other. 

 You still don’t say anything.

 He starts slowly circling around the table towards you, keeping his malicious eyes on you and your body the whole time. But regardless of the feeling of dread that courses through your veins as he draws nearer, you refuse to kowtow to this overgrown-spoiled-rotten eldest child. He was just another man, another blob of superior prejudice that was in your way of being happy in your career and in your life in general.

 One more step and he’s finally in your face now, a mere foott away from your sitting form. Your eye level is with his chest as he stands before you, tilting his head as his eyes rake your figure up and down. Your skin crawls and you look away, not wanting to react to his offensive gaze when he suddenly lurches forward. You can’t help as your indifferent demeanor cracks as you flinch when both his hands settle on your knees.

 He leans down, a few inches away from you when he speaks.

 “Are you deaf as well as stupid, you quirkless cunt?” He breathes into your face. His hands warm up ever so slightly on your knees, and you can’t help but think with a flash of paranoia how easily and quietly he burned your precious hair not even two hours ago. 

 You try to placate him by talking calmly, a brutal contrast in the way your heart was pounding in your tightening chest.

 “I don’t know what you mean, Touya. If you’re upset about something, we can talk about it without you trying to intimidate me.” Placing your hands on his atop your knees, you gently attempt to move him off but only succeed in him gripping you tighter. He wrenches your knees apart and you gasp as he slides himself in between your legs.

 “Oh, you know exactly what I mean. Don’t play coy with me, I told you clearly not to hang around with that greasy freak. Or do I need to give you a permanent reminder, huh?”

 He grasps your chin and shakes your head roughly as he presses himself further into you, hips gently rocking back and forth into the confines of your skirt.

 It’s hard to keep up a calm facade when his clothed erection is feeling up the outline of your panties.

 You release a frustrated cry and try to buck him off of you, but that only ends up pushing even further against him, much to your displeasure.

 “Fucking let go! Let go of me you disgusting asshole!” Punching and kicking does absolutely nothing to deter him, he only laughs at your pathetic defense as he grabs a stray hand in its mission to slap him square across the face and slams it down behind you on the table. He fails to stop the other hand though, as it ducks from underneath his chin and gives him a mean uppercut.

 He takes it maddeningly gracefully, though, as he finally catches the offensive hand and also smashes it down on the wood, emitting a pained wail from you.

 Both of you pant for a couple of seconds, tears of pain and anger threatening to spill over your lashes and reflex tears in his amused ones.

 “Do I have your attention now? Or do you want me to bruise your legs too?” He slides closer to your ear and his hot breath tickles your lobe as he whispers darkly, “I got a couple ideas in mind on how I can do that.”

 Your eyes widen and you try to jerk violently out of his hold. The patched hands holding onto your wrists heat up significantly, and you wail as your skin simmers and bubbles.

 “Please stop, Touya. It hurts,” you sob as he moves back to your face again, his body hovering your overs as he leans in further and hips stilling in their perverse movements, only pressing against your clothed mound at a stand-still now.

 “You didn’t answer me. Why the fuck,” his cooled palms flared back to life again and you painstakingly stifle a whimper, “are you hanging out with Shimura again?”

 “I-I was just having lunch with him! It wasn’t like we were meeting up outside of school or anything,” you plead with him, completely abandoning your passive facade. At the end of the day, you were quirkless and he wasn’t. Which meant you weren’t stupid or cowardly, but you were just human- you didn’t want to piss him off further by givng shitty answers and then getting burned.

 You try shifting to evade the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants but he holds you steadfast. He leers at you, and you turn your head to avoid the manic expression on his face. It was just your bad luck that no one else was around, the rest of the students and teachers heading back inside for their next class.

 “Aww what, you’ll take Skin ‘n’ Bones’ dick, but you can’t handle a little teasing from mine? Do I scare you that bad, princess?”

 Your bottom lip quivers as you bear his filthy words, your seared hands shaking in pathetic attempts to quiet any pained noise.

 He moves his head in such a way that his tilted frame comes a few millimeters away from your trembling smooth lips, and you look up at him with scrunched eyebrows in a plea for mercy.

 “Or, has little miss perfect never had a cock before? Never taken a thick, pierced dick up her tight little virgin pussy?” He groans as he rubs his erection up and down your mound, your skirt shifted in the tussle in such a way that it offers him a snatch of open skin that he takes with relish.

 You gasp and bite your lip and he thrusts gently into you, looking at your fearful face for the truth.

 “Stop-stop being gross Touya. I haven’t done anything like that with him, not that you should care who I fuck with. And for the record, like I said before, I was just having lunch with my friends, not having a goddamn date with any of them, including Tenko. And I don’t know who you think you are telling me who I can or can’t hang out with,” you try to sneer as you finally wrench a hand away from his grip and manage to push him back some with a shaky arm against his toned shoulder.

 “We’re not married yet, and Tenko has never done anything perverted or twisted like you that I would have to stay away from him. In fact, if he were my fiance then he’d act like a real one, tenfold than you ever could.”

 You don’t realize how big of a mistake you made when Dabi stills his pressing hips and releases your other wrist, which you snatch in your other hand and cradle the bright red flesh.

 He backs away a step or two, to your utter astonishment. He looks at you blankly and cocks his head at your unsure self. You have no idea what you said that could have caused such a change in demeanor, weren’t you just dishing back at him what he was giving you?

 “You really think he’s that great, huh? Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised you do, a quirkless uptight bitch like you goes perfectly with that waste of space.”

 “He’s not-” you begin to argue but are cut off when he spins on the heel of his black combat boot and starts walking away from you, only to call out over his shoulder, “If that’s the case sweetheart, I can’t wait for you to see how great and perfect he looks when his skin is burnt to a crisp and his body’s nothing more than ash and soot.”

 The blood drains from your face as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve made the target on Tenko’s back even bigger by trying to defend him. There’s no doubt now that if he was trying to evade Dabi and Hawks’ brutal treatment, they’d never let him breathe in peace now.

 You’d lose your best friend, and he’d never forgive you.

 Pride be damned.

 “Wait!” you cry out as you stumble off shaking legs and chase after him. His arms are thrown behind his back in an easy stretch, the movement making his stapled and scarred limbs seem even more menacing than ever before. 

 “Touya, please, don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything to you!”

 But he clicks his tongue and continues to stroll past you in the same direction your group had fled mere minutes before.

 “Too late dollface, I can’t have my little fiance bitch thinking some fuckwad is better than me, can I?” He pouts and gives you an innocent mocking smile, knowing you were breaking slowly at each word that came out of his mouth.

 “You should be glad I’m giving him any sort of attention anyways, like I said before he’s a nobody-he never uses his quirk anyways, he might as well be called a quirkless little fuck just like you! Hah! No wonder you two get along so well!”

 Tripping over your own feet, you try to keep up with his long strides and sway his mission to either kill Tenko or make his life even more hell than it was before.

 “No, no! That’s not true, please, Touya, he’s already so miserable, please leave him alone, I’ll do anything!” You practically shriek as you both finally reach the school doors and his hand grasps the handle.

 But he stops. Miraculously, he holds the door handle without turning it, and looks demeaningly at you.

 You try hard not to shrink back too much when he leans to your eye level, his hands on his knees as he says sickeningly sweetly, “Anything? You’ll do anything to save that sorry excuse of a bastard? Anything to make me not burn his ass down to hell?”

 It's hard to mask the loud gulp you make, and his grin stretches so wide his staples along the corners of his mouth move along as well.

 “Y-yes, anything. Please just stop hurting with him or messing with him at all. He’s not the one who pissed you off, I am.” You admit your defeat and hang your head low, peeking up at him between your lashes to judge his reaction.

 His cerulean eyes scrutinize you, his nose lifted in the air as he mockingly taps his chin in fake thought.

 “Hmm...well, I suppose you could start by not eating lunch with him in the first place. I don’t know how you stomach anything anyways, he reeks of a decaying body.” He smirks, but you dig your nails into your palms so as to not rise to the bait.

 Anything.

 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.

 After a moment of silence that ensured you really weren’t going to lash out at him, he continues, this time stepping forward until he has you backed up into the adjacent brick wall in the little hidden alley besides the doors.

 “And,” his saccharine words penetrate your dizzy head as his arm stretches out towards you, and for the third time that day you were essentially pinned verbally and physically as his hand toys with the hem of your collar, “from now on you’ll be eating with me and Hawks too if he’s around. You’re also gonna stop being such a teasing little prude and let me touch any part of you without backing away or saying any bitchy comments. It’s your duty as a good little wife anyways, right Y/N?” 

 You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel one hand make its way to circle around your neck in a snug noose and the other slip up your shirt, fingers punctuated with cold little stitches spreading across the expanse of your stomach, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

 “Come on,” He whispers in his gravelly voice, leaning into the crook of your neck, “where’s that little attitude now, huh?”

 For Tenko. This is all only for Tenko.

 “Okay Touya. I’ll do it. Just...please, please give him a break.” You muster up the last of your courage to face him, and you finally feel a single tear treacherously escape the confines of your eye and slide down your face. You feel humiliated, having put up such false pretenses of being cool, calm and collected when he first approached you and now...now you were an emotional mess. In just a few sentences and unwanted physical contact, he had you right where he wanted.

 And the worst part was, you both knew you couldn’t even tell anyone. If you told Tenko, he’d immediately reprimand you and try to brave it by hanging out with you just so you didn’t have to endure the plight he himself was always in. You couldn’t confide in any of your girlfriends, no doubt Hawks would somehow spin it with his honeyed words to make you seem like the crazy, overreacting one. Your parents were a no-go either, having been telling you from the start that they weren’t to hear any criticism of their perfect, levelheaded future son-in-law.

 You wonder how your parents would feel about their dear son-in-law licking the tears off your flushed cheeks with a condescending chuckle.

 “Oh come on doll, having lunch with me isn’t so bad now, is it?” He cooes at you with faux sympathy. He does nothing to hide the twitching muscle in his jaw that prevents him from bursting out laughing when you furiously brush the tears and his saliva off your face.

 No, I don’t want to have lunch with you, you sick freak. I want to see my friends and not feel my heart pounding up my throat when I’m with you.

 “No, it’s not bad,” you whisper dejectedly, hanging your head and waiting for his next move.

 “Attagirl,” he says lowly, one finger ghosting over the waistband of your pants before retreating out of your shirt and to his side. The other hand wrapped around your neck squeezes once, relishing in your panicked gasp and frantic scrabbling at the back of his hand before also coming down.

 He finally deems your disheveled state a good enough reason to stop tormenting you, and he backs away with a little smile on his face that does nothing to calm your nerves.

 Turning the corner and opening the doors, he doesn’t look at your pathetic shaking body sliding down the wall when he says, “I’d get to class if I were you. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble for hanging out with people you shouldn't be with in the first place.

 Something tells you he’s not referring to himself as the doors bang shut.

 **************

 8 New Messages

 Rumi: Hey girl, you okay? Dabi seemed kinda off, I wanted to ask you what happened but I figured you two needed space and Hawks said not to bother you abt it:/ Did you guys get into a fight?

 Yuu: Ummm since when did you and Dabi talk? And since when did he get mad at you? Text back ASAP!!!

 Moe: If you’re still alive, you def owe us an explanation, hello? What did that absolute hunk want from you? I didn’t even know you two knew each other!

 Ten-ten: Y/N please text me back as soon as possible

 Ten-ten: Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

 Ten-ten: What did he even want from you?

 Ten-ten: If you’re mad that I left, I’m so sorry, I just thought me being there wouldn’t be much help to you

 Ten-ten: Please tell me you’re okay

 2:10: I’m fine, just walk around the back and meet me by the gate when the bell rings. Keep your head down, too.

 **********

 Dabi doesn’t feel any shame jerking off in the bathroom.

 Hawks doesn’t feel embarrassed either, listening through Dabi’s grunts and shaky breaths as he recounts the entirety of what happened between you and him after the group left, babes hanging off Hawks’ arms.

“So, what, you two just boned and you told Shimura to piss off? That’s what got your dick hard as a diamond?” Hawks chuckles, folding his arms and leaning against the white tile wall.

 “Yeah,” Dabi grunts as his hand works vigorously up his shaft, his piercings clinking harmoniously at his ministrations, “But fuck, man, she felt so soft and hot down there. Her stomach was so smooth too, I couldn't keep my hands to mys-ahh-self.” He groans as he climaxes, watching his precious seed erupt and drop into the toilet below him. What a waste.

 He wishes it went into your mouth instead.

 “Her stomach?” Hawks’s avian eyes practically bulge out of his head as he roars with laughter, dodging weak blue flames aimed straight at his hair. “God, you sound like a virgin, man. Who the fuck gets turned on by a stomach?”

 “Shut the hell up you overgrown chicken. I don’t fucking know, okay? She just- argh, I don’t know, when I saw her from a distance I didn’t really think much of her but when I got all close up with her I felt like I was going crazy. I mean, my body started heating up more than normal and I just wanted to touch her.”

 The blond was quiet, continuing to listen to his friend’s rant as Dabi washed his hands and inspected his spiky hair in the dirty mirror.

 “And her attitude? My god, hearing every bitchy word come out of her mouth was worth the look on her face when I held her down. Priceless,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he begins tightening a loose stitch under his eyebag.

 “She smelled pretty fuckin’ good too, maybe thats what got me going in the first place. I just wanted to be closer to her, regardless of how she saw me. It was just so satisfying seeing her break down, and all because of me, yknow?”

 He finally finishes checking his reflection and picks up his bag from the ground, Hawks following pursuit as they make their way outside the bathroom. They were currently skipping their last class, Quirk Training because they could actually afford to. Their teacher knew that both of them surprisingly had the highest grades in the class and continuously kicked every other student into the dust, the rest of their peers not having the right quirks to even hope to make it to the two delinquent’s level of strength and skill. It wouldn’t hurt to skip a few times, they would just pick up right where they left off, pummeling every other kid aside until they made their way to the top again.

 Plus, with all the testosterone raging through Dabi’s blood after lunch, he decided it would be better to take all the energy out in more relieving ways in the bathroom rather than using the adrenaline to accidentally blast some poor chump’s face off in the heat of the moment, pun intended.

 Not that he would mind, don’t get him wrong. It would be pretty funny seeing the look of horror on everyone’s face when the smell of a burning body hit their nostrils. But it wasn’t worth a suspension, or worse, an earful from his dad.

 “Oh, and by the way, she’s gonna have lunch with us from now on. I told her if she didn’t want me beating Shimura into a pulp she was gonna stop eating with him and come join us instead.”

 At this, Hawks gives Dabi a smirk and says dryly, “How romantic of you. If you wanted her to spoon feed and baby you at lunch so you could have a boner the entire period, you should’ve just told her straight up.”

 Dabi opens his mouth to argue with half of his statement before he’s interrupted.

 “Where is Shimura by the way? Did you see him leave the locker room? Training’s done, he should be out any minute now, why don’t we pay him a little visit and relay the same message you gave your little bitch to him as well?”

 Both boys smirk at each other as they make their way down to the locker rooms. Unfortunately for Tenko and fortunately for the devious duo , all three of them shared the same last class of Quirk Training. The frail, quiet boy tried his best to stay out of their way, but he might as well have had a sign up on his head that said MAKE MY LIFE HELL, PLEASE from the way he scratched himself raw, earning occasional disgusted looks from girls and snickers from a majority of the guys. His hair was almost always unkempt and in his face, prompting Dabi to yank his overgrown bangs up and out of his face as he snarled and spat venom into his victim’s wincing expression. When they sparred, Dabi held absolutely nothing back as he relished in the difference in their fighting styles: Tenko with close combat techniques and Dabi excelling in long distance. It was a recipe for disaster on Tenko’s side, and almost a cruel joke to the flame user as he easily sent wave after wave of burning hot hellfire towards the yelping boy. It came to a point where Dabi would openly and very loudly question why Tenko would even try, why he would even attend this class when he was beaten in under a minute-not nearly enough time to utilize his quirk.

 Their teacher would scold Dabi very lightly, but the damage was done and doubt was already planted into everyone’s mind as the seeds of disdain germinated and grew into ponderings of, has he ever beaten anyone before? He’s always out of the ring so fast, I didn’t even understand what his quirk was. Is he failing, how is he even passing this class?

 Only you were the one who knew it was his lifelong dream of working in the Rescue and Search unit, his quirk of decaying proving to be so deadly and harmful that he never had the courage to use it against anyone, no matter how bad they had it out for him. He could never live with himself if he ever caused anyone permanent damage that could end up in paralyzation, or worse.

 But that was the difference between poor Tenko and Dabi. Only one of them acted out in an eat or be eaten way.

 Hawks was more subtle in his torment, having less of a grudge towards the sulking grey mass of limbs. Sure, it was amusing watching him squirm and flinch and hear him plead raspingly to move your feathers, please, they’re covering my nose I can’t bREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE PLEASE I’LL DIE-

 But unlike Dabi, he didn’t get that big of a high from drawing blood and whimpering. That was all for fun and jokes to indulge in Dabi’s selfish and ruthless desires, sure, but the real rush he got was from the overall power imbalance from everyone else he received. It was knowing that he was at the top of the food chain, that no one could surpass him, even his brooding patchwork friend who he considered to be beside him if anything, but not above him in any sense. Tenko was just another cog in the grand machine that reinforced that idea every time he wilted and withered under Hawks’ sickeningly sweet, fake smile.

 You can’t blame him, either. He never originally asked for any of the attention the school practically spoon-fed him with when he was younger. No, he didn’t seek out any of the multitudes of guys that asked him to hang out every other weekend at the beach or park, and he was always indifferent to the girls begging him to spend the night and exchange numbers on the regular. They were all idiots anyways, what did they know? Sex, fame, money, drugs, all that bullshit that every young adult craves. He was better than that, he had a goal, he had ulterior motives, but he soon began to realize that the mind-numbingly brain dead people who circled him like their god could very well improve his chances of achieving said goal.

 And so Hawks began to painstakingly take time out to meet some tools dudes at the beach or catch a movie with them, he started opening up to sluts and bimbos girls via their legs more often and eventually he became a name revered around school, a reputation told and passed around the halls in whispers that traveled through notes and texts exchanged throughout classes.

 It just so happened to be in his luck that he was able to one day put a face to another name that floated through the halls in his passing classes: Dabi.

 They had been paired up to sparr, both sets of ears alert and open when their teacher read aloud each other’s quirks. Fire and feathers, huh? What a joke.

 At least, that's what the both of them thought about each other until they actually started fighting.

 Columns of cobalt flames rained above and around Hawks, and he was surrounded mere seconds after the match started. But nevertheless, his feathers detected a breeze from an open air pocket through the wall of fire, and he used his great wings to propel him through the slim opening to safety.

 That was the first time Dabi had ever been bested by anyone before, having every single one of his limbs pinned down by multiple heavy feathers tearing through his clothes, and similarly, it was the first time Hawks had even been surrounded so quickly by anyone else either.

 Thus was the start of their begrudging comradeship, which quickly evolved into something akin to a friendship when less training commenced and more grunted words and short phrases thrown to each other formed into gruff sentences, and bitter rants about shitty parents, being surrounded by painfully stupid peers, and how everyone else but them two saw the world for what it really was: a playground where they could topple everyone else down and somehow still manage to win those same hearts over as they used them as stepping stones to their own advantages.

 Dabi’s lust for blood and pain went hand in hand with Hawk’s craving for power. It was disgusting how the school worshipped them, taking any instance of abuse from either of them with a grain of salt, having already submitted to their superior auras. They truly were stepping stones, eagerly ready and oblivious to be used.

 And Tenko was just that, another meek, fragile little stepping stone that seemed so easy to crack...but somehow, instead of shattering into hundreds of pieces, he managed to retain his brittle shape and morph into a thorn in Dabi’s side. When he would be shoved into lockers for seemingly hours on end with burning feathers taped over his mouth (courtesy of Hawks to supply some material) that accentuated the scars on the lower half of his face, he wouldn’t tattle to any head authority or teacher. When they would tear and burn his clothes off in the locker room after their training sessions and force him to walk home in sweaty gym clothes, Tenko never lifted a finger to decay a hand or turn a feather into dust. He would simply sulk off and try to remain invisible and out of their way. 

 It drove Dabi crazy; he wanted the translucent skinned boy to scream for his fucking life, he wanted to see him lash out and fight, he wanted him to squeal like the pig he was. He wanted more reasons to beat him down and feel an ounce of joy in himself that he never received elsewhere. Seeing people shake and cower before him gave him the same rush as any heavy drug would do-it was addicting, and left him craving for more. It reinforced the idea that he was better than anyone else, and if his dad wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction or assurance that there was a purpose to his miserable life, then he would have to relish in the emotions he felt within others, even if it meant at the expense of his peers.

 And although he would never admit it, it secretly was hilarious as fuck for Hawks to watch Dabi lose his mind slowly but surely over the most trivial of things, like Tenko’s lack of reaction to their abuse. He knew it only came from the neglect Dabi felt at home, Endeavor’s blatant disappointment embedded its manifestation in the eldest son’s whole being, even if he would always deny that's the case. The lack of direction and emotion Enji showed to his lost cause of a son caused Dabi to lash out in increasingly aggressive ways at school. It just proved that even though Dabi thought he was better than everyone else, he truly was just another sheep like the rest of these idiots milling around. The brooding, aloof face he put up at school wasn’t enough to fool the sharp-witted avian; he was just an average spoiled elitist brat that threw tantrums when he didn’t get what he wanted, how stupid could he be? He thought too much of what others thought, even if he sought validation through his parents, who gives a fuck? It’s just another useless miserable factor of his life to ponder on, in Hawks’ opinion.

 If you asked Dabi what he thought of Hawks, he would give you a similar answer but with different facets. Sure, it was nice to have another god of the school walk around by his side, enforcing their reputations, and yes, both of them connected on negligent parents... but Hawks gave in too much into materialistic things. Sex and popularity were deterrents from the real world, and Dabi would be damned if he were to follow pursuit. Hawks was slowly proving himself to also be another pawn in their life’s game of chess, but for the time being he knew that making friends with him was looking at the bigger picture if he wanted to make a name for himself, no matter how painful that process was at times. Why the fuck would he waste time going to parties just to socialize and bang a bunch of slutty whores when he could be proving himself to the yakuza? While Hawks would be schmoozing with some busty bimbo and playing beer pong on a Saturday, Dabi would be making his own types of friends in hidden alleyways and getting acquainted with shady figures like Kai Chisaki, a boy around their age with connections that ran around the city and underneath the city lines. The scarred boy was dedicated to his eventual goal to rid this rotten society of all the superficial heroes and scum, so naturally he hadn’t the need or want to indulge in his own selfish desires.

 Up until this point, that is.

 Which brings him and his winged partner-in-crime to now, waiting in the shadows outside the entrance to the locker room. Waiting for a certain spindly, greasy-haired freak to make his appearance so he could beat the shit out of him and release some still pent-up energy that was not relinquished in the bathroom.

 So that he could tell him to stay the fuck away from what rightfully belonged to him, for the first time in his life.

 He reached down to pick up some gravel, hand-picking the rocks that seemed the sharpest as he heated up his palm. Without saying a word, Hawks’ feathers floated towards Dabi’s hand, embedding their bristles between the rocks. 

 It took about 5 more minutes of aimlessly lounging against the wall and burning other various thrown-out papers scattered around the ground, until the man of the hour made his appearance.

 It was pathetic, really, the way the door slowly creaked open as his matted pigeon colored head peeked out, swiveling around to take his surroundings. The second his head turned right, his eyes widened as he saw the hellraisers, and Tenko frantically tried to retreat back inside and slam the door shut.

 Unfortunately, he couldn’t beat the too-fast quills that snatched him by the collar and practically threw him forward. He flailed his limbs, trying to regain his balance and flee his inevitable beating. The panic that rose in his throat grew exponentially as he was dragged further towards Hawks and Dabi, who was juggling burning blue rocks in his hand along with familiar red plumage.

 He knew the drill all too well, becoming dreadfully acquainted with the makeshift missiles over the years.

 “Hey, Shit-mura, catch!” Dabi lobbed a pierced feather at his bony abdomen, and Tenko flinched violently as a glowing blue pebble ricocheted off his body, hitting against a barely-fading bruise from a similar routine performed merely weeks ago.

 Albeit for a different reason, one that didn’t have to do with a not-so-lucky girl like you.

 Tenko fell backwards as a volley of feathers jabbed under the soles of his feet, and watched in horror as the perpetrators advanced towards him, Hawks with his wings so leisurely ruffling in the breeze with a laid-back smile on his face, hands tucked in his jacket pockets contrasting with the demonic grin etched on Dabi’s face as they leer down on him.

 “What do you want now?” The fallen boy barely mutters, not bothering to look up at them.

 “Don’t address me like that you little shit,” Dabi hisses, flames flaring up in his palms just to show off how much ammo was still burning and waiting to be used...all for him, of course.

 “Stop hanging out with Y/N. The next time I see you talking with her, or even looking in her direction I’ll burn your sorry ass alive. Though I doubt anyone would care, anyways.” He speaks curtly, and it kills him internally to almost admit how frustrated he is seeing you two cross paths, even after a sole day.

 Tenko raises his eyebrows, looking between Dabi and Hawks, who, for the meantime, doesn't feel a need to waste his breath on such a petty matter.

 “We’re just friends, that's all we are. If you’re so concerned about me getting in the way, I promise I won't-”

 “-You think I’m actually worried about losing you to her?” The inky head draws closer, his voice low and raspy as he laughs. “Let me tell you something, and listen to me very clearly, because the next time I repeat myself is the day I’ll fuck you both up- I don’t give a shit who wants her, or who doesn’t. I’m not concerned about losing her either, you know why?” He grabs the frayed collar of Tenko’s shirt, and the latter chokes as his air is squeezed out of his frail throat, hands frantically grabbling at the purple-scarred constraints.

 He can feel flecks of spit on his face, the hands around his neck heating up suffocatingly as Dabi nails the final lid in his coffin.

 “Because that little tease was practically sold to me, get it? I didn’t even want her in the first place, which essentially makes her nothing short of a playtoy for me to fuck and fuck with whenever the hell I want, without you in the picture. I don’t need some weepy moron like your sorry ass getting her all teary-eyed when her eyes should be on me and me only.”

 He releases the weakling’s throat, wishing it was your smooth one instead. He almost would’ve had a boner if Tenko’s big, gulping breaths were a little bit more feminine sounding, like yours.

 “Okay, okay, whatever man, I’ll do what I can to stay away from her. Just…” and his voice trailed off into a whisper, hoping he could muster any more sincerity in his words, “...please don’t break her heart, or be too rough with her.” The mere thought of you being bruised and banged up like he was made him gag.

 It was sickening how similar his words mirrored your own.

Dabi scoffs as Hawks finally decides to speak up, spreading his hands in a faux show of good gesture.

 “I gotta admit though, Shimura, you got good taste in girls. I’m almost impressed you managed to get a cute little thing like her to even touch you.” Tenko blanches, noting the way Dabi’s jaw clenches as the instigator’s mouth curves into a smirk, all of them knowing full well that the carefully chosen words were meant to rile the situation up even further.

 But after a tense moment of everyone glancing at each other, the patchwork figure relents and exhales through his nostrils, deciding to grant the mess of fallen limbs a rare chance of mercy.

 “Shut the fuck up bird brain. Let’s go, I don’t wanna hear my dad bitchin’ if I come home late again,” He kicks Hawk’s boot with his own and turns around towards the entrance of the school, not sparing Tomura a second glance. Hawks laughs handsomely and gives the rattled boy a mock salute and a fluff of his grand wings before trailing after his counterpart.

 Shimura finally lets out a shaky breath, slowly picking his scattered belongings off the ground, snapping his head back up frequently as if the two were bound to come back and mess with him further.

 While he was picking his remaining binders and gym clothes off the ground, unbeknownst to him, about 50 feet up and out the school Hawks was fishing an object out of his plush wings.

 “What’re you doing?” Dabi asks lazily as they walk the streets of Musutafu, kicking sake bottles out of the way.

 “Hol’ on-” Hawks grunts, yanking the object loose from his tight confines of his feathers before placing it in Dabi’s open palm.

 “Huh? The hell’s this?” He raises an eyebrow, gingerly holding up the beaten screen in front of his face.

 “That right there is extra material to hold against your little wifey. Seems like he had more pressing things on his mind rather than to check for all his belongings,” The quick-witted avian pats his elusive wings proudly, basking in the benefits his stealthy quirk allows him.

 And sure enough, as Dabi gleefully cackles with laughter at his good fortune, Tenko Shimura is desperately patting down his pockets, looking for his phone while you chatter on cluelessly next to him. 

 ****************

 “So? How was your first day?”

 “Did you see Y/N? I heard from some upperclassmen that you got classes with her.”

 “You should walk her home after school!”

 Touya is immediately bombarded with questions from his siblings the second he makes his presence known by slamming the front door shut.

 He growls under his breath at all the clammer around him, and he barks at them to shut the hell up before he burns the house down.

 It doesn’t faze the rest of them who are blessed with their ice quirks, and they continue to pester him until he spills the most meager, unsatisfactory answers to them.

 “Yeah, I had a class and lunch with her. Happy? Now seriously back off.”

 Fuyumi and Natuso cheer as Shoto gives a slight smile.

 He heads off into the dining table, munching on carb-infested snacks as he scrolls through Tenko’s phone.

 The messages between you and him are long, dating back years that he has to swipe for minutes before getting to the first words of your conversations.

 A majority of the speech bubbles hold nothing but dorky back and forth’s of new movies that came out, hanging out here and there, and school help. Sometimes he’d come across you asking for advice for your parents, or ranting about having to keep a frustratingly posh look in public, and he realizes surprisingly you two might have more in common than he thought.

 He hadn’t even bothered to look at most of Tenko’s messages, nothing holding too much leverage on potential blackmail or more fuel against him, but suddenly his thumbs stilled as his eyes rove over a conversation from a couple months ago.

 Y/N: Ugh, it’s just one of those days, y’know? Idk if its PMS but i’ve literally been watching porn for like 2 hours now

 Touya’s eyes widen and he brings the screen mere inches from his eyes, just to ensure he’s not imagining his good luck...as well as disbelief.

 The next messages however, grab his elation by the balls and twist them into a cloud of red-filled rage.

 11:57 pm: I could give you something better than porn if you want:)

 It takes all he has not to throw up his munchies on the table at the pure inexperience Tenko’s words so evidently hold.

 Can this bastard be more cringe?

 Apparently it didn’t matter to you, because not even a full minute later you had responded to past-Tenko.

 Y/N: Oh yeah, like what?

 Touya excuses himself from the table, ignoring Natsuo’s raised eyebrow directed at him from the kitchen.

 He stalks to his room, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the questionnaire was over the moment he walked in, and his parents were gone until the evening, so he was set for privacy. It’s not like anyone would willingly want to come into his room unannounced anyways, unless they were looking for a death wish.

 The gloomy black decor around his man-cave suited his mood well, only the dim light of his computer and phone providing him access to witness your whore antics.

 Picture after picture filled the conversation, lacy white lingerie and red silk complimenting your figure well, and his heart speeds up when he sees the slutty expression on your face.

 You were wearing makeup in some pictures, and completely bare-faced in others. Some photos didn’t do justice to your beauty with the naive angles you positioned yourself in, and others quite literally made him gape at your junk in the right places and slender bits along your silhouette.

 In his eyes, it was innocence at its finest. Your honesty at showing all parts of you was mouth watering to Touya, the way you didn’t hide any side of you in such an intimate exchange made him want to sink his teeth into your helpless being and never let go.

 It also made him want to melt Tenko’s skin off his very breakable bones.

 We’re just friends.

 Some friends they were, alright. A slut and a grade-A fuckin’ incel. How the hell did Shimura get a taste of you before he did? He’s your fiance for gods’ sake, that's his right and no one else’s.

 Honestly, he’s disappointed in you right now. For all that talk you gave him earlier today, he didn’t take you as some easy hoe that’d put out for such a creep like Tenko, with just a few sweet words thrown here and there along with some bad pickup lines.

 He crosses his arms behind his head and leans back into the plush mattress, frowning in thought. The sounds of his father banging open the door and his siblings chiming in to greet the old bastard float in and out of his ears as he thinks of what to do with you and Tenko.

 Obviously your guys’ friendship surpassed normal boundaries, regardless of what you both pleaded or believed. Just the fact that Touya fucking Todoroki, son of the Number Two hero, eldest child and heir to a powerful elite family lost first claim of his wife-to-be’s body to some...some withering degenerate is making his heels expel smoke.

 He’s not going to be second place again, not outside his own home too.

 There’s no doubt in his mind that if you truly are all bark and no bite, you’ll find a way to meet up with Tenko behind his back. The pictures he’s seen tonight just proves it's going to take something bigger than a copped feel and a verbal warning to pull you both apart, and Touya is more than ready to take on that challenge.

 A plan begins to form in his mind, one that ensures his fiance and the dirtbag will stay away from each other, even if he needs to push them to interact more initially. Even if he needs to make you desperate to reach out for someone, anyone who’ll come to your aid after he’s through twisting and welding your nerves together.

 Touya falls asleep with one hand in his pants, one hand holding his phone screen up showing your white lingerie.

 Tenko falls asleep for the first time in months without his bony hand down his sweats furiously working his shaft at those pictures you sent months ago. The cum that usually spills out and stains his abdomen is replaced with dread that embeds itself in the pit of his stomach. He knows either Hawks or Dabi has his phone, and he knows what he’s hiding in there isn’t something that would help his claim of being your friend.

 You send a message to Tenko before you sleep, telling him to wait for you in the adjacent empty hallway to the cafeteria after you finish lunch with Touya.

 *************

 “Where the hell were you yesterday? I tried calling and texting you!”

 You indignantly demand, making no effort to move out of Tenko’s way as he tries to gently brush past you to make room for himself on the sidewalk.

 “I, uh, lost my phone and forgot to tell you after school. Sorry.” He says lamely, and you squint your eyes and grip the straps of your backpack even tighter at his half-assed excuse.

 Begrudgingly shifting to accommodate him in the narrow walkway, you both begin to walk to school. The butterflies have risen from the grave of your stomach again, butterflies of dread and gross anticipation at meeting your inky-headed match.

 “Well, did you report it missing?” He scratches his neck softly and grunts in denial. You frown, thinking if it were you then you’d be throwing a racket at your missing phone. Guys are weird.

 “Okay...well, anyways, I texted you about meeting me outside the caf’ when the bell rings for class. I have a feeling Touya’s gonna be stingy about me staying put like the perfect, brainless doll he wants me to be, ugh. So just keep your head down as usual obviously, and I should be out in no time hopefully if I can manage to slip through the crowd. I’m thinking we meet up in the General Studies hall? It’s right there-”

 “-Wait, you texted me all this?” Tenko stops abruptly, red eyes wide with panic.

 You turn to face him, eyebrows raised at his composure. “I mean, yeah? I didn’t know you didn’t have your phone with you, so I’m just telling you now I guess. Why? Do you know if someone took it?”

 He hesitates, unsure of how to cover this up. He already knows either Dumb and/or Dumber has his phone, so no doubt if you truly did text him anything about your plan to meet up with him against Dabi’s specific instructions not to, one of them would already know by now. But he can’t tell you why your plan is now faulty and extremely dangerous.

 Because then he’d have to explain how they got his phone in the first place. One question would lead to another, and then he would have to spill about what they threatened him with, and you would somehow end up getting even more hurt if you found out what went on behind closed curtains.

 “Look,” He finally decides to speak, and rejoins you on your walk to campus, “I don’t want you putting yourself at risk to still hang around me at school if Dabi told you not to. He’s just gonna find out and get even more pissed. I’m used to it, but if you’re gonna be marrying that douche then it’s just gonna screw things up for you even more. We can just meet up after school like always and hang out at your place or something.”

 You pout at his proposition, annoyed that your oh-so-loving finance is weeding his way into your private life...more quickly than you’re comfortable with. Why should you have to sacrifice time away from one of your oldest friends just because of some overgrown, spoiled man-child?

 “Ten, you can’t let them dictate your life forever, okay? Like, I get it, they’re scary as hell and you were right-they’re not afraid to get physical. But it's only the first week of school back, are we really just gonna let them walk all over us? I’m not gonna be some stupid fucking bimbo thats gonna cower every time he flashes his fist at me.” You stamp the ground in frustration, and Tenko keeps quiet, growing more irritated by the second. You might now care about keeping your limbs intact, but he’s already as frail as can be. No sense in begging to get snapped like a twig just because of your suicidal intent.

 “So what exactly do you wanna do? I get how you feel, really I do, but Y/N they’re not talked about around school for no reason. I don’t know how else to explain this to you, no matter how much you want him to know how independent you are, he’s not gonna care.”

 Biting your lip in contemplation, you think on his words. He’s got a point, unfortunately. There’s not much you can actually do apart from run your mouth. Touya’s got the upper hand in every sense.

 But still. You’ll be damned if you wait for him to make the first move like a sitting duck.

 “Whatever,” you bite out. “We’ll just have to be smart about skirting around him. Just try to meet me in an empty hall outside the lunchroom if you can, and we’ll just make sure to stay out of open areas when we walk to class. No biggie. And of course we can still walk together home, right?” 

 “Yeah, sure,” he says, as you two near the school entrance.

 You try not to notice the delay in his answer as you walk through the gates.

 ***********

 Immediately when they spot you in the halls on the way to your homeroom, the trio of girls swarm and bombard you with questions...questions that you already answered with some half-assed, bullshit excuses about how Dabi needed help on homework.

 You guessed they weren’t as airheaded as they all let on.

 “It’s fine, its okay, it was just some stupid misunderstanding we had. We’re okay now, really,” you wave them off while Tenko worries his bottom lip in an attempt to subdue his itching.

 It takes some convincing for your concerned friends to finally leave with a warning of “If you hide anything from us, you’re getting your ass kicked!” and a casual laugh from you before you can head to class.

 “God, I don’t know how I’m supposed to hide the whole arranged marriage thing from them if they’re always gonna be so nosy. Especially when Tou-I mean, Dabi, isn’t exactly hiding his asshole-ness”.

 Tenko mutters in agreement to you, his head low as you both turn the corner into your classroom. He merely takes a step inside before looking up and hissing in panic, tripping backwards over his own feet.

 “Ten, what the hell?” You yelp, narrowly avoiding his skinny frame about to collide into you.

 “Shit, I forgot we changed rooms. And I’m not supposed to be seen with you, they already saw-!” He cowers at the side of the door, eyes wide with panic.

 And you realize too late that he’s right, that his sparse appearance in the doorframe must not have gone unnoticed by the dreaded duo already in class. You can see your seat from the window in the door, and an inky blob of black hair and blond locks not too far from your seat as well.

 “Oh god, fuck, just-just get to class before the bell rings, I’m sure they didn’t see you come in. But go, you’re gonna be late!” You swat him off and he dashes down the hall, throwing you a worried glance as he goes.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever might happen if they indeed saw your figure with Tenko’s. Turning the handle with sweaty palms, you gulp and enter the room.

 “You were almost late, L/N! Let’s try to hurry it up next time and not idly stand outside the classroom with friends, shall we?” Vlad King barks from the front of the room, and you cringe as you internally wonder if the entire school was against you today.

 The room has quieted down significantly as your teacher starts to prepare the whiteboard for today’s lesson. You imitate Tenko’s earlier demeanor by keeping your head low and trying to avoid eye contact with everyone as you make your way to your seat.

 Except, that proves to be quite difficult as you pass by Hawks’ seat, a lean leg casually stretching in a mockery to make you trip. You try to step over it, but unbeknownst to you, a lone red feather darts under your feet as you take a step and lifts you up, causing you to lose your balance and fall drastically to the ground, the contents of your bag strewn across the floor.

 You can barely hear the scattered laughter filling the room, can hardly make out your teacher growling at you to take a seat and stop causing distractions, because the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. The underside of your arms are prickling as you frantically adjust your skewen skirt and try to simultaneously pick up your displaced belongings. Your hands are shaking as they reach for a binder that slid under Dabi’s seat. 

 Bile rises to your throat as a studded black combat boot carefully places itself right on top of the binder. Your violently trembling hands pause midway to reaching for it, and you slowly raise your glassy eyes to meet your tormentor’s.

 You wish you didn’t.

 The way he looks down at your disheveled figure causes your heart to seize and create a giant lump in your throat. His piercing-decorated mouth is pulled back in a jeering grin, thoroughly enjoying the mess his friend created, just for both of their sick amusement.

 Your pleading look does nothing to deter his firm hold on your binder, and you grow increasingly panicked as you hear the lesson start.

 “Let go!” You whisper, eyebrows scrunched together, bottom lip trembling like a baby.

 “Mmmh. Only if you beg like a little bitch.” He doesn’t even look at you straight in the eyes as he murmurs in his gravelly voice, his purple patched hand lazily writing down a few scribbles here and there to take notes.

 It's cruel, almost. The bravado you held up in front of Tenko this morning is completely gone now, a mere facade to show you weren’t going to simply roll over on your back and show your stomach for Dabi. But it seems that’s exactly what he reduces you to, in just a manner of a few simple movements.

 Just like yesterday, when he had you pinned twice at lunch.

 Lunch.

 Oh god.

 You quickly shake your head from its treacherous wanderings, opting to focus on the imminent problem right now instead of combusting from future ones as well.

 “Please, Touya,” you say almost under your breath, leaning in painfully just to make sure your plea fell only on his ears only.

 His lowered lids rove over up and down your body in acknowledgement, letting them settle on your thighs clenched together, hands balled in your lap to prevent from ripping yours and his hair out.

 Leaning back further and lower into his seat, he keeps his lustful gaze trained on your wary, kneeling figure as he subtly starts to palm himself through his jeans. Your jaw drops at his audacity, your mind completely forgetting to try and snatch the binder from his hold as he lightly thrusts up into his open hand. You scuttle backwards in disgust, your face feeling like it's on fire as you do.

 But another trusty red feather slips underneath your skirt as you flail back, and grounds the flat side of its bristles against your clothed clit.

 It's all too much, your hyper awareness and sensitivity to the whole humiliating situation reaching its peak, and you gasp loudly as the scarlet plumage circles itself once around your clit once more and retreats back into its large red home.

 Dabi isn’t the only one palming himself now.

 Once again, the class attention has been brought back to you, pages stopping their movements mid-flip.

 “Y/N L/N, what is going on back there?” Your peeved teacher’s voice booms across the silent room.

 You flinch and try to speak but Dabi beats you to it.

 “She’s distracting me sir, I tried to give her back her binder but she wouldn’t take it for some reason.” He speaks monotony, a hint of feigned confusion so strategically accenting his words.

 “No, no, that’s not what-”

 “-It’s true Mr. King. I saw her get on her knees in front of Dabi while he was trying to take notes.” You’re interrupted again as Hawk’s smooth voice floats above yours, and your face burns with shame at his choice of words as your peers titter around you.

 “If these two men miss today’s notes because of your shenanigans, you will personally be in charge of catching them up and tutoring them on whatever need be.” And with that, he turns around and continues to write nonsense formulas on the board.

 The black binder that caused so much trouble is shoved towards you carelessly, papers slipping out onto the floor as it comes your way. The two demons share a knowing smirk at their fruitful teamwork.

 It’s not even nine in the morning yet, and you want to scream.

*****

It takes less than two minutes to gather everything off the floor and to slink yourself into your seat, cursing the placement of Dumb and Dumber in front and behind you. Brimming with rage, you clench your pen tightly as it skims back and forth across the page, making up for 10 minutes worth of missed notes.

 Not even a full beat of peace is passed before you feel a cool breath against your neck, and you slap a hand against your nape as goosebumps erupt across your skin.

 “So who came into the room with you before class, huh?”

 You honestly should’ve been more scared of his question, but you couldn’t even find the energy to turn around fully and refute his accusation. You merely exhale loudly through your nose, letting him know you were done talking in defense. He chuckles lowly and you can feel the vibrations from the rumble of his throat in such proximity to you.

 “Better keep your pretty little mouth shut, unless you really are into getting degraded by Vlad,” he leans forward, his mouth right next to your ears. You can’t stop the shiver that passes through your body as his tongue slips out to caress the shell of your lobe at the same time his hand reaches down and around your seat, just to pinch the flesh of your ass.

 You jump slightly at the onslaught of sensations and harshly bite your lip to prevent a yelp leaving your mouth. Clenching your pen tighter in your hands is the only thing you can do his touch wanders underneath your skirt, feeling the flesh of your thighs clench together again to ward off his offensive advances, elatedly letting his coarse fingers run in between your cheeks and dip into the crevice of your mound.

 The sound of your quiet whimpers and the sight of your rigid back is enough to send him over the edge.

 He suddenly digs his dull nails into your soft skin, and leans further towards you. You can feel his mouth press against the shell of your ear as he hisses.

 ¨I asked you a question you quirkless whore. Who the fuck came into the classroom before you? Was it that freak again?¨

 ¨L/N, can you answer the question up on the board please?¨ Your teacher´s voice rings out from the front of the room, and you and your bully both jump at the intrusion.

 The board in question has a jumble of words and numbers written on it, and in your frantic stupor none of it makes sense to you. But you know if you’r

e caught slacking off again, you might get written up.

 ¨Uh, l-let me check my notes really quick, sorry,” you mutter as you desperately flip through your notebook pages.

 ¨Actually sir, I think I can help Y/N out.¨ Unexpectedly, Hawkś buttery voice chimes in, much to your relief. He answers the question flawlessly, and even your teacher nods his head impressively.

 You might´ve even said a thank you to him if he hadn't turned his head at the side just for you to see him lick a long stripe up a certain feather, the corners of his lips turning up into a sickly sweet smile.

 You feel queasy.

 Dabiś fingers strategically resume their ministrations again to gain your attention as they trail down into the junction of your mound, lower and lower until the pads of his stitched fingers rest on top of your clothed clit.

 You jerk slightly and shoot a hand down underneath your desk to stop him from moving, but the second your palm wraps around his wrist his fingers press deeper against your nub.

 Fuck.

 You know what he wants, so you answer him just to end this torture.

 ¨I don't know who you saw walking with me, but if you're referring to Tenko, then he went to his class. Try not to make it so obvious that you´re jealous or insecure of him, it's pretty pathetic. I mean damn, you´re even starting to see visions of him around the school? Maybe you like him more than I do!¨ He scoffs under his breath but you can feel the temperature around you both rise up.

 Successfully managing to yank his paused hand away from you, you throw his wrist backwards toward him, savagely relishing in his stunned silence, no doubt.

 Without turning around, you end him on a good note.

 ¨Didn't realize you were into ‘weak nobodies’, Touya. Who's the freak now?¨ You don't personally believe such a vile notion, but you hope know itĺl be enough to shut his fragile ego up for now.

 It does.

 He doesn't touch or talk to you the rest of class, much to your satisfaction.

 You don't smell the burning of a certain someone's foot in youropen bag, all your hard work from notes to projects going up in literal tiny flames.

 ***********************

 The bell dings, and you waste no time shoving your binder into your bag, failing to notice little flecks of ashes billowing in the air when the belongings go into the scorched fabric. You yank both straps onto your shoulders and immediately start to get up, but are promptly stopped when two figures swarm you and force you back into your seat.

 ¨Where you runnin’ off to cutie? Don´t tell me you forgot to have lunch with your fiance?¨ Hawks shakes his head mockingly, tutting in disapproval.

 ¨Yeah, I mean, she obviously thinks I´m into her little boyfriend, so I guess I'll just have to sit with her to demonstrate how I'm into women.¨ Dabi sneers, towering over your seated figure.

 You blanch, regretting your outburst from earlier, knowing that he was going to make you pay for it.

 ***********

 Tenko slinks off into the courtyard to look for any possible signs of his phone around the same time Hawks and Dabi are leading you through the more deserted halls towards the cafeteria, their arms thrown over both sides of your shoulder, vile words and innuendos bordering on threats hissed into your ears.

 He knows it wouldn´t do any good for your safety if he went off trying to spot you amongst the crowds, and frankly, he didn't really want to. Especially not when he knew who you were probably with.

 Sitting with Miruko, Takeyama and Kamiji was a no-go, they would all be uncomfortable with his unsettling appearance there without you as everyone´s middleman. Maybe he could find Atsuhiro? Or even Iguchi? Surely he could find them and they could all converse about the latest game that came out, as they usually did.

 Somehow he manages to make his way into the crowded commons being invisible to most had its benefits sometimes, especially when being shoved forwards as if he's not there gets him forwards faster and looks around the massive room for the other two social outcasts.

 Lo and behold, he spots them towards the back of the mess hall, where most of the trash cans were placed.

 Typical.

 Iguchi unsurprisingly has his reptilian snout pressed into his console, his long talons clacking away at the buttons. It's a miracle he doesn’t rip the thing to shreds with how fast his fingers move. Atsuhiro is fiddling with his precious marbles on the stained table, shooting them at each other just to frantically put them back in their original place before they can fall off the table.

 Tenko clears his throat, moves his hood slightly off his head and makes his way to them.

 ¨Hey guys,¨ he mutters as he reaches their table. They both look up and squint at him, breaking out of their dazes as they try to register him. Feigning a roll of his eyes, Tenko brushes the wiry bangs away from his face so they can get a good look at him.

 ¨Aahh, Tenko Shimura! Our old friend, have a seat, have a seat!¨ Atsuhiro claps his hands loudly, and Tenko cringes as people from other tables turn around to glare at the commotion. He can understand why the brunette was an outcast like him- he talked weird, like he was from olden times, and he thought life was a grand play. Minor criticisms, but it was enough to be deemed offensive in their school, enough for his ass to be kicked all the way to the back of the cafeteria, marinating in the dumpster stenches.

 Quickly trying to avoid a bigger scene, the pale glaucous haired boy slides into a seat across from the two and nods at the lizard boy.

 ¨Iguchi,¨ He acknowledges, and the hybrid lifts his eyes for a second from the screen and curls his lips in his own greeting.

 ¨How´ve you been Shimura? Haven't seen you in a while, usually you´re hanging out with L/N, right?¨

 Tenko scratches his neck and feels skin pile up under his nails.

 ¨Yeah, she um...I think she wanted to sit with some of her own friends today.¨

 ¨I thought you two hung out with the same people-¨ ¨So what game´re you playing? Is that the one that just came out?¨ He interrupts Iguchi, trying to avert the conversation away from you. The less eyebrows raised, the safer you both would be.

 They talk about the latest games and consoles, grades and classes. It feels nice, honestly. Even if he's not as well known and presentable as you, he gets to bask in things he actually is passionate about. Not that you ignore his own hobbies, but it gets tiring after a while to talk about facials and hero work, girl stuff that he just never really understands. You act like a protector to him, and he appreciates it, he really does, but...sometimes it feels like he's more of a show dog, and not the cute kind. A kicked puppy-no, charity work is a more accurate representation of what he feels like when he sees the not-so-subtle sympathetic looks your friends throw at you when they think he's not looking.

 Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you do too. But sometimes it's hard to see past that aged love when, as Iguchi basically stated, his friends are your friends.

 Funny thing is, he has no real friends apart from you.

Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you know.

 It's been hard to remember that constant love when Dabi and Hawks have been making his life a living hell, especially now when they know you´re so protective of him.

 It´s hard to remember that love when you insist on putting the two of you in actual danger, just to walk down a stupid hallway together. 

 But he supposes he can't blame you all the way. He guesses maybe it's mommy issues from a younger age around the time he met you. It's the way he could cry into your shoulder after his father would beat him black and blue, it's the way you would rub his back soothingly and shush his cries, never really understanding why he was so upset in the first place but still doing your best to be there for him.

 His father had sent his sister away overseas to some private school to better her education, so he truly was alone with his batshit crazy family situation. You provided him with unrequited love from an early age on, you were his safe haven, his sanctuary of sorts. It was true, you really were the only one who understood why he acted the way he did and you accepted him for it.

 He supposes he should feel more grateful to you, but like how every child is supposed to fly the coop and become independent, you had unknowingly trimmed his already-deteriorating wings and tethered him back to your welcoming, warm embrace.

 You had ruined him

 Almost a half hour went by between the three boys, discussing a wide range of topics, and for the first time in a while, Tenko was actually comforted by another guys’ presence. He wasn't worrying about shielding his body from ammunition, or keeping his greasy bangs in front of his eyes so he wouldn't have to meet anyone´s judgemental gaze.

 ¨Hey man, you should come over one day. I got a couple of GTA discs we can try out, or COD if that's more your thing,¨ Iguchi offers, reaching his clawed hand out. ¨Why don't we all exchange numbers?¨

 ¨Y-yeah, that sounds great! Hold on, lemme get my ph-¨

 But his excitement was cut short, when his hand patted empty pockets.

 Oh.

 He almost forgot.

 ¨Uhm, sorry, I kinda lost my phone yesterday. Maybe you guys could just write your numbers down here or something,¨ And he fished around his bag for an empty paper, pushing it across the dirty table to them. They didn't seem to mind-they promptly wrote down their digits in chicken scratch writing.

 ¨Got any trash?¨ He stands up, plucking a few plastic wrappers off his seat and extending his courtesy to them. They wave him off and he shrugs, making his way behind them towards the giant dumpsters.

 The second he drops the scraps into the bin, some force shoves him face first into the reeking cesspool of school lunches. He grabs the edge of the bin in a split second, ignoring the slimy substances he feels underneath his palms and whips around for the source of the assault.

 All he sees behind him is a retreating figure, with blond locks swaying with every sauntered step he takes away from the frazzled target.

 His phone wasn't as far as he thought it was.

 In fact, if he had the balls to follow the winged boy back to his table, he would've surely discovered his beat up phone case held captive in Hawks´s open bag. He would´ve also seen both boys keeping a miserable girl sandwiched between them.

 Tenko would´ve seen all of that from a distance, but you were there in your own skin, fighting the urge to rip out a certain purple-burned aggravator´s staples, and preventing yourself from diving into your burned backpack, pulling out a nasty pair of scissors and giving a special birdbrain´s wings a well-needed cut.

 ¨Why so quiet sweetheart? Nothing bitchy to say now?¨ Dabi seethes in your ear as he busies a hand in pinching the soft flesh of your thighs, a 2.0 to your torment in the classroom.

 ¨No,¨ you gripe, trying to finish your spring rolls. A feather plucks the roll from midair as you lift it towards your mouth, and redirects it into its owner's mouth.

 ¨Mmm, Dabi, your bitch can cook right. You should've told me my sister-in-law was such a domestic homebody, I would´ve defended her from your evil clutches sooner,¨ Hawks chuckles with a mouth full of food. His arm is draped over your shoulders, fingers dangling oh-so-close to your chest. Shoving them off even in the hallway proved to be futile after they both used their respective quirks into silencing you every time a teacher walked by and you attempted to open your mouth in a plea of help.

 ¨I´m not his fucking bitch, you brainless pigeon,¨ and even though you know you can´t fully move with how close their proximity is, you still try and push them off.

 But Dabi is having none of it, igniting his fingers on your thighs as his counterpart cooes at your irate state. Ignoring your gasps and writhes, he doesn't give a moment to prep you as he fully shoves his hand down your panties, your skirt bunching up further up your legs when he does. 

 You give him a desperate look, and he merely gives you a sneer in retaliation.

 ¨Where did you learn to talk like that? That shit´s not gonna fly with me when I put a ring on it, bitch. If I hear you mouthing off like that again I'll personally make sure there's a better use for that slutty hole,¨ and at that his fingers start moving and heating up again, Hawk´s arm forearm tightening around you to prevent you from making a scene while the ravanette circles calloused digits around your wet nub.

 He leans closer to your ear, and the rings adorning his lips feel cold against your skin. On the other side of you, the blond is smiling knowingly down at you, brushing his thumb against your neck. 

 You jerk as Dabi breathes into your ear, ¨But something tells me you wouldn't mind that too much. I mean if you´re not exactly screaming for help right now then I guess you must want this as much as I do. Fucking whore.¨

 You shake visibly at the strength Hawks is using to counter your escape attempts, Dabi´s fingers tweaking your clit hard every time you jerk your body to the side.

 ¨No, no, what the hell? I don't want this, I don't want anyone to see me like this-!¨

 ¨Oh, is that what it is? Even so, I'm sure you remember our little talk the day before, right? About me laying off your friend, if you just take it like a good slut. Don´t think I haven´t forgotten about him, Y/N.¨

 And then you still. Because of all the emotions running through your frantic head right now, you keep Tenko above all the other bullshit. He doesn't deserve your share of hell, he's already gotten his fill.

 Red silk and lace cloud Touya´s mind.

 ¨We´re just friends¨.

 ¨That's a good girl,” your fiance whispers, kissing your outer ear and laving his tongue across the rim of it. You whine quietly and try to draw further into yourself-which is miraculously allowed by the blond as Dabi tugs you closer into his black shirt, his fingers down your skirt and teasing your slick entrance.

 The Hawks watches you shamelessly, playing with a stray feather between his hands as Dabi descends his mouth to your neck, nipping you lightly and then harder when you squirm.

 Your seating position is most unfortunate, the boys having picked an area that most teachers don't pass through on account of other delinquents settling in as well. No one would bother them here, just passing it off as PDA that the rest of them have no shame in showing either.

 ¨Oh! I haven't asked about your family yet. That's what good fiances do, right Keigo?¨ Dabi exclaims suddenly, lifting his head to give the amused blond a knowing look. Hawks hums in assent, eager to see how much more you could take of their special attention. 

 ¨So did your mom ask how her beloved son-in-law is doing? You told her all about our quality time together?¨ His other hand creeps beneath your shirt, your stomach muscles clenching painfully tight at his unwanted contact.

 ¨Did daddy ask how I’m treating his precious little girl?¨

 You bite your lip hard and squeeze your eyes shut as your bra is moved up, fingers trailing upwards towards your nipple. Hawks´ eyes are glinting as he watches in silence, his pupils dilated at the scene in front of him.

 ¨Or, actually, maybe save that nickname for me. I'd love to be the first to break it to him that his princess has a new daddy, a better one who broke her faster than he ever could.¨

 A sob builds up in your throat. There´s 15 minutes left of lunch.

 ¨Maybe after we get married, we can just crash at your place,¨ he hides his mouth behind your hair, but you and Hawks can hear his low gravelly voice as he murmurs, ¨So they can hear me fuck the living daylights out of their precious baby girl...make sure you´re loud too, ´wanna let them know you´re a woman now. A married woman who´s gonna slave away for her husband, down on her hands and knees like she's supposed to-

 Ding ding ding

 His phone goes off, pausing him from his vile monologue.

 You exhale in relief when he growls under his breath at the interruption, reaching for the offensive device.

 But instead of pressing the decline button after seeing the screen, his face goes slack and pales tremendously.

 His hands retreat from their perverse activities underneath your clothes, and you turn to him fully surprised now. You try to lean over to see the caller ID, but your less-than-pleased fiance actually shoves you off of him, right into Hawks (who thankfully catches you).

 You look up at him who seems equally bewildered, and then at Dabi who holds the phone to his ear.

 He gulps and clears his throat before he speaks.

 ¨Hello?¨ It still holds his raspy tone, but you can't detect his usual snarkiness.

 There´s a pause as he listens, and then he gets up from the table and walks away without so much as a second glance to the both of you.

 Hawks, being a guy who's too fast and too smart for his own good, already has an inkling as to who could emit such a reaction from the arsonist.

 A wandering feather that brushes against your leg jerks you out of your stupor, and you flinch away from the warm body that caught you.

 He laughs a real laugh this time, not one with any malice or with undertones of perverseness in it as you scuttle back to the other side of the short table. You glower at the floor as he rests his elbow on the table, cheek in his hand. He tilts his head at you, very birdlike and for a moment in his open eyes, you can understand why Mirko likes him so much.

 But fuck if he wasn´t a total scumbag on the inside.

 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, you know I don´t bite. We just wanna mess with ya´, it's cute seeing you get all nervous and shy. I gotta admit, it's a nice change from your, ah, colorful language.¨

 Your head whips up to face him, and you let out a short, humorless laugh at his audacity.

 ¨Mess with me? Hawks, you guys are fucking assaulting me. It's not funny or cute, and I know your little innocent act is complete bullshit. I know what you guys do to Tenko, and the fact that you don't even stop Tou- I mean, Dabi from it shows you´re just as bad as him!¨ You bang your fist on the table, acting out now since the worst one out of the duo is out of commission for the time being.

 But instead of narrowing his eyes and shooting feathers at you to shut you up, he merely smiles wider and shrugs in indifference, never taking his eyes off of you.

 It's hard not to gape at him. What kind of world was he living in, where none of this had any effect on him? All this-this bullying and torment was just fun jests for him.

 But you know it's less pure with your betrothed. You know with him, it's some fucked up power-play, a show of dominance that you want no part in.

 You can't help but toss a glance to where he was now, 20 feet away and speaking intensely into the speaker.

 ¨You know, if you stopped fighting him and just gave in it would be a lot easier for you. He likes putting you down and getting a reaction out of you.¨

You don't tear your gaze away from Dabi, so you don't see Hawks lean in and take advantage of your distracted focus.

 ¨He gets off on it.¨

 His velvety voice rumbles right next to you, and you whip around and slap a hand over your ear as a shiver simultaneously passes through your body. He doesn't move, however, but merely leans back and throws an arm over the back of your seat, grinning like a madman.

 ¨See, this is exactly why I´m not giving in yet. What the fuck is wrong with you both? How could you think something so fucked up is funny? No wonder you both give Tenko hell-¨

You clamp a hand over your mouth, forgetting in your rage not to mention the taboo name. Your eyes search gold ones for any sign of similar hate that you find in cerulean orbs, but there is none.

 All he does is raise an eyebrow and strain his smile a little.

 ¨Between you and me, sweet thing, it really is in your best interest not to mention Shimura´s name around Dabi. I don't really know why he's got it out for that dude, but it doesn't really help Dabi calm down when his wife-to-be is prancing hand-in-hand around school with him.¨ Your lip curls in discontentment, and you feign a scowl at Hawks´ words.

 ¨Why does he even care? It shouldn't matter who I hang out with, it's not like I'm cheating on Dabi or anything. Besides, he doesn't even like me, he just wants some girl he can ruin.¨

 A few moments of silence pass, and then he speaks. What he says makes your heart seize up, and the butterflies kick in again, much to your disappointment.

 ¨Is that what you think? Man, you both have a long way to go, then.¨ You want to ask what he means, but you´re unfortunately interrupted when a very unwanted lanky figure plops next to you, jostling you to move over.

 ¨ ´Just had something to take care of,¨ is all Dabi offers as he starts packing up his stuff from the table.

 ¨Who was it? Was that your dad?¨ Hawks presses.

 Dabi´s eye twitches.

 ¨Yeah. ‘Was calling about some stupid assignment I failed, giving me shit about it.¨

 ¨He usually doesn't call you at school,¨ is followed by a raised gold eyebrow.

 ¨I know. I was actually almost excited for once-¨ Dabi laughs bitterly, and you just listen with your head down, utterly confused. What was the deal between him and his dad?

 And just in time, the bell for dismissal rings.

 Thank god.

 You silently pack your belongings as well, hoping that this time you could slip out and actually see Tenko for a couple of minutes if he was waiting for you like you told him to, but as usual, your beloved fiance intervened.

 ¨You´re always rushing off when the bell rings, doll. Where are you going in such a hurry? I hope our company didn´t make you uncomfortable or anything,¨ he snakes a hand around your waist and pulls you in tight, leering at you.

 ¨I just don't want you guys getting me late for class,¨ you mutter, avoiding his lecherous gaze.

 ¨You sure no one's waiting for you out there? Maybe we could both go and say hi to whoever´s taking up all your time-¨

 ¨Uh, no no! That's okay, I really was just making sure I wasn't late. We can go to class together though, no worries.¨ You quickly grab onto his jacket sleeve and look at him with big eyes and a little smile in a shameless, desperate attempt to deter an inevitable bloodbath.

 He raises his eyebrows at your volume and the way you clutch at him while simultaneously quelling the blush that creeps onto his face and the smoke that was comically coming out of his ears. If his fiance was throwing herself at him for the first time, then who was he to reject her?

 ¨Alright, let's go then,¨ he steers you out towards the entrance of the cafeteria, and you force your legs from grounding themselves and running in the opposite direction of where he was taking you. 

 You feel him squeeze you tighter, and you raise your head at him, startled to find him already looking you over with a strangely soft expression. It wasn't anything deemed romantic for sure, but it was a lot different than his usual sneers and scowls. Your stomach does somersaults at this new expression that was privy for your eyes only, his piercing blue eyes rendering you speechless.

 He looks so much better when his mouth is closed, and his eyes do the talking instead.

 However, Dabi does in fact open his mouth, not to spew venom, but to say something that makes your heart beat even faster.

 ¨Yḱnow, all jokes aside, you weren't too annoying at lunch. Maybe it's ´cause you kept your fat mouth shut with a shit ton of food, but you were pretty tolerable.¨ you quietly scoff at his backhanded compliment as you both exit the hall, Hawks trailing a couple feet behind you, both sides of his shoulders clutched by fangirls who seemingly spawned out of nowhere.

 ¨I´d say the same to you if you weren't feeling me up every five seconds and mouthing off like a-¨

¨-But, yeah, thanks for actually sitting with me. I really would like it if we did this more often,¨ he murmurs so quietly that you´d think he was talking to himself. He isn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze squinted as he navigates through the crowded and loud hallway. 

 You want to point out that technically he wasn't really giving you a choice of where to sit when he threatened you like earlier, but something in you tells you to stay quiet as he maneuveres your body around so that no other student would bump into you by accident.

 A sense of whiplash comes over you at that moment. Only a mere couple of minutes before he was calling you his bitch and terrorizing you, but now with that soft gleam in his eyes and the confession he was giving you, it feels like it was only you two at the moment regardless of the massive crowd swarming around.

 If Hawks was a little closer within earshot, you have a feeling that Dabi would be acting very differently, no doubt. But nevertheless, you swallow your apprehension and acknowledge his different aura.

 ¨Sure, Touya. We can sit together more often...as long as you lay off the handsy part, we haven't gotten there yet. We've barely been able to have decent conversations, but I´ll try if you try too.¨ While you say that, you subtly try to look around for Tenko but find it hard as Dabi maintains eye contact with you and pulls you along the school. You glumly give up as you both turn the corner to where the classes were.

 He ignores everything else you say, solely cherry picking where you said his real name, again. Dabi didn't particularly care for all the other bullshit you uttered, but he shuddered when you stroked a thumb against his hand. He was glad that their plus one had opted to not be in their faces at the moment, because it was nice for once to say something relatively normal to you. Because in the end, he might be a menace but he wasn't delusional. He really could see you as his wife, not just on her hands and knees like he had purred about earlier, but actually as someone who could offer him a new, better life than the one he had at his own home.

 He saw it in the way you gazed so softly at Tenko, saw it in the way your voice lilted higher and in the way you softly pull his scratching hand away from his marred skin

 The way your lips puckered as your mouth invited another bite of food made his chest ache with a weird feeling he couldn't quite place a stitched finger on. The scowl you gave him and Hawks both when you sensed they were about to fuck with you more made him want you in a way that he had never wanted anyone so close before. He wanted to be the reason your scowl would eventually turn into a smile, but for the meantime he knew he couldn't refrain from seeing fear and panic in your eyes. You were cute, with a body and a smart mouth to match. Dabi guessed that you were also taken aback by his sudden intimate gestures, and he couldn't help himself to hope that you had a slight inkling of what your presence was slowly starting to do to him.

 But if you thought that you had newfound leverage on him, or thought that he was wrapped around your finger by a small sentence he said, then you were more stupid than he was givng you credit for.

 Because the second you bit your lip and looked away after touching his hand lightly, he turned his head back and made eye contact with Hawks, giving him a knowing look.

 Hawks´ wings flex as he gives a cheshire grin to his counterpart, letting him know he already knew what to do.

 ¨Sorry girls, ´gotta head to class, can´t let my grades fall. I´ll catch you two later, yeah?¨

 He is met with simpering ¨yeah, sure!¨´s and ¨of course, text me though!¨ as they sashay away.

 ¨Definitely,¨ He chuckles, running a hand through his floppy hair.

 As if he would be caught dead texting Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

 But anyways, back to business.

 He cracks his knuckles and stretches above his head, letting out a satisfied groan as he leisurely pulls out a phone. It takes some scrolling before finding the message, and bingo, he finds the right hallway adjacent to the cafeteria after backtracking his steps a bit.

 Lo and behold, who was already there? That's right, none other than Tenko Shit-mura. Hawks´ eyebrow raises as he sends a quick message from Tenko´s phone, and pockets the device.

 ¨You´ve got balls, I´ll give you that.¨ Tenko whips around in horror as he puts the voice together with the person. His thumbs overlap each other and alternate to scratch at his scabbed arms and neck. It's something near a miracle to Hawks as he can't fathom why a girl of your stature would hang around with this degenerate. Sure, he himself had girls sucking his dick in every crevice of the school and outside, but at least he had a name for himself, and a reputation befitting of a god´s.

 This thing?

 ¨Oh, h-hey Hawks,¨ and the unamused blond curls his lip in disgust as Tenko´s wavering words were almost drowned out by the sound of vigorous scratching. ¨I was just waiting for Iguchi-¨

 ¨-And Atsuhiro, right? Funny, they left the caf´ at the same time you did, so why exactly are you here?¨ He smirks and folds his arms, leaning on the lockers.

 It was borderline hysterical how white Tenko´s face went, and Hawks distantly wonders how much whiter could his face go before real blood and veins were visible behind the mess of scarred facial features.

 Poor Tenko stammers and stutters over his words trying to find a good enough reason as to why he was lingering there, but he needn't worry so much, because unfortunately for him, Hawks knows exactly why.

 He holds up Tenko´s phone casually and grins at his ashen face as if they were old buddies.

 ¨Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with other people´s toys?¨ Tenko makes a quick swipe at the phone suspended in midair, but only succeeds in getting sliced by a few directed feathers.

 He groans and clutches his now bleeding stomach, holding up a hand to see a thin line of red adorning his cracked skin.

 Hawks shrugs as if nothing had happened, and cocks his head at his victim. ¨I decided, if you can't learn to keep your nose out of other people's things then I have every right to keep yours.¨

 ¨Give it back man, I don´t know what your deal is, but if this is about Y/N then I swear I haven't been anywhere near her.¨ Tenko looks at him desperately and Hawks chuckles lightly, making the other´s heart sink.

 ¨Yeah, you have. You might be just as gross and sly as Dabi is, but you´re not smarter than me.¨ He waves the device in his snug hand. ¨She might just see you as her friend, but we both know you want her more than that.¨ Tenko loves you.

 ¨In my opinion, she looked better in red.¨ His steel colored head snaps to see his phone screen showing the messages he was so afraid of them finding out about.

 ¨That's not fair, that was so long ago, way before Y/N even knew Dabi.¨ ¨You think that's gonna matter to him?¨ He pushes himself off the wall and advances with his hands in his pockets towards Tenko, who is now frantically scrabbling back on all fours like a mutt. 

 ¨The fact that it even happened is a given that you´re a dead fucker now, Shimura. And don't think I don't see you two running around in the hallways trying to avoid me and Dabi, he sees all that too, y´know. We've both got eyes around the school.¨ He crouches in front of Tenko, and his grin turns ugly into a sneer when the shit-stain on the floor flinches and raises his hands up as if he were about to be hit.

 ¨Why does Dabi care so much about me and her? She´s gonna be married to him, not me. He gets her officially, not me.¨ Tenko says rather bitterly, in Hawks´ opinion.

 ¨He hates how close you are to her. He's jealous, simply put, at how well you know her, how you make her smile and put her at ease. It drives him crazy that some social reject like you has seen her body and the best and worst parts of her before he has, and that's why he lashes out at her. These pictures just prove to him that you need to be removed from the scene. Permanently.¨

 ¨Okay, I get that, but then why are you so involved with it? What are you even getting out of snitching for him?¨ Hawks´s eyes glint and darken, sending a sinister shiver down Tenko´s back. He licks his lips and leans close, giving a confession of his own.

 ¨´Cause if your guys´ shared whore screws up again, I might get a taste of her too. Personally, I couldn't care less about Dabi´s heart, but I wanna see why this girl is worth all this trouble.¨ The fallen soldier recoils slightly at his implication.

 Tenko forces himself to take deep breaths and to stop his shaking. He needs to get his phone back and go to the nurse before anyone sees this scene.

 ¨Just give me my phone back dude, please,¨ He hisses desperately, outstretching a gnarled hand.

 Hawks studies him for a moment. He was almost disappointed in Dabi that the flame user was so butt-hurt about this pathetic sack of bones being closer to his girl than he was.

 But that's what he gets when he holds onto a shred of hope that someone could be a candle to his everlasting flames.

 ¨Here,¨ and he takes momentary mercy on Tenko, tossing his phone on the ground in front of him.

 He starts walking away, wings ruffling with foreboding anticipation as he pulls out his own phone to send a message to the man of the hour.

 But before he does, he calls out over his shoulder a warning to the boy on the ground.

 ¨If you see her again, you won't be the only one getting buried that day¨.

 Tenko scratches his neck.

 *************

Ashtray: Was he there?

 2:00 pm: Yup, you were right. Guess they never learn, huh?

 Ashtray: Whatever, I have her phone and I just sent him the message. Send me a feather so I can send it back to her class

 2:01 pm: You deleted the message right?

 Ashtray: Obviously. You too?

 2:01 pm: Yeah, did it as soon as I saw him standing there

 Ashtray: Good. Make sure the area is clear after school

     Call Kai over too, I'm gonna need him when I'm preoccupied

 And unbeknownst to you, a velvet feather was indeed carrying a small cellular device on its back, weaving in and out of empty hallways to find your designated classroom.

 The silent plumage floats stealthily through the slightly ajar door and makes sure to stay low to the ground as it approaches your desk. Luckily there's an opening in your bag, so it quietly drops your phone inside while you tediously take notes.

 It can't help itself when your legs cross over themselves; you look so unassuming and innocent that it just has to get a quick taste. The feather travels up the expanse of your leg up to your inner thigh, and gently brushes against you, laying some pressure on it as well.

 From his own classroom, Hawks shivers in sickening pleasure when he senses the vibration of your gasp and the quickening of your heartbeat as you jolt and look underneath your desk.

 But you find nothing, the feather already having been directed to whizz out of the room and back to its owner.

 ¨What the hell,¨ you mutter to yourself as you brush the crawling feeling off your skin. You glance at your bag for a second, and then do a double take when you see the screen of your phone glowing.

 After taking a quick glance at your preoccupied teacher, you reach for the device and squint at the notification that shows on your lockscreen.

 One new message from Ten-ten.

��Ten-ten: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent

 Your brows crease in concern and you tap a message back to him.

 2:05: Are you okay? What happened?

 2:07: Where were you today after lunch? I didn't see you outside the lunchroom

2:06: And when did you get your phone back?

 2:10: Hello?

 And from across the school, Tenko is trudging away from the nurse's office back to his own classroom, frowning at your message as well.

 Y/N: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent

 He sighs and drags a gnarled hand down his weary face, stopping his fingers under his jaw to dig his nails into the thin flesh.

 2:06: We can't meet up again at school, Dabi and Hawks are gonna kill both of us

 2:08: I´m serious

 He's in his classroom now, and his unease has merely grown. You were usually so good at texting him back promptly, what´s wrong now?

 Biting a fingernail, he hesitates before using his other free hand to type some more.

 2:10: You okay?

 Almost 30 minutes pass, and Dabi is counting each second in anticipation.

 *********************

The sounding chime of the school bell causes Shimura to stop his periodic scratching and leg-bouncing, instead opting to shoot up out of his seat and bound out the classroom to where you said you were.

 Anxiety clouds over and erases all rational thought from his disturbed mind when he thinks of your lack of response.

 Were you mad at him? Were you safe?

 A stronger man with more self control would have resisted from going to check up on the girl that caused so much trouble for him, but Tenko was not a strong man. He was weak, and soft-willed, and if he was already getting the life beat out of him any other day because of his weakness, then what would one more catalyst be?

 His bony figure is ricocheted off various bodies as he bolts down the halls towards the back of the school, looks of disgust thrown his way and noses scrunched as he mutters occasionally, ¨Sorry, excuse me¨ and ¨My bad, I´m sorry¨. It doesn't deter him, he's used to the disdain by now and with the thought of you in mind he finally reaches the back of the Quirk Training facility, shoving through the double doors.

 Muted sunlight peeks through the large trees that loom over the area, the sky already turning a russet color in the beginning of its descent. He looks around wildly for you, and then he finally spots you in all your oblivious glory standing at the edge of the fence, your face slightly covered from the large sakura branches winding over the mesh.

 Tenko releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, and starts approaching you.

 You´re playing with the vines growing on the fence, but you turn around when you hear footsteps coming near.

 ¨Hey! What´s up?¨

 ¨I could ask you the same thing,¨ he says warily, looking you up and down to make sure you seemed unscathed. ¨What's going on? Why haven't you been answering any of my texts?¨

 You raise an eyebrow and laugh a little, thinking that he was messing with you.

 ¨Huh? You´re the one who called me here. And you didn't send any messages to me, look.¨ He grabs the phone that you thrust in his face, scratching lighty at his collarbones.

 You gently swat his hand away and watch as he thumbs through your chat log.

 His own brows furrow and he looks at you weirdly as he produces his own device, flipping the screen around and showing you the many messages he sent not too long ago.

 You squint at the blue light and look back up at him, mouth agape.

 ¨Wait, so you didn't call me here? I tried texting you too, but I didn't get an answer. I just thought you were busy or something.¨

¨Look, I don't know what's going on here, but we need to leave,¨ He says anxiously as he grabs your arm and starts to pull you around the corner. ¨This is weird, I don't like it-¨

 ¨Hold it you two.¨

 You both freeze, ice flooding through both your systems as you recognize the lazy voice.

 Slowly, you turn your head to face the last person you wanted to see in this state.

 Hawks is leaning casually against the brick wall, wings flared out to their fullest extent. Next to him is a new guy you´ve never seen before, a brunette with gold eyes like Hawks´ and a black beak mask to match. His hands are clad in white gloves, and he periodically keeps checking the watch on his pale wrist as if he has somewhere to be. 

 He's surrounded by cronies, tattoos covering the expanse of their bulky arms and baseball bats along with guns strapped over their heads or twiddling through their fingers.

 You think you´re going to throw up.

 Dabi is the first to speak, his guttural voice cutting through the thick, tense air like a serrated rusted knife.

 ¨Well, shit doll. I didn't think I'd have to break my future house slut so quickly.¨

 ¨Dabi, wait, there's been a misunderstanding-¨ ¨-And you,¨ he draws on as if you hadn't spoken. You tried to catch his eye but it seemed like he was purposely avoiding you, instead going for drilling invisible holes through Tenko´s head.

 If you had asked him, he was granting you mercy and your last shred of dignity by not letting you continue speaking, before he viciously strips it away from you. He feels as though if he hears your voice right now, the entire pavilion will go up in flames, including the chicken bastard and the Shie Hassaiki members.

 He stuffs his inflamed palms into his fire-deterrent pants to quell his unbridled rage. To anyone else he seemed at sick ease in having the upper hand, but in all honesty, Dabi would be lying if he said he really did wish you would have passed his test and not met with Tenko.

 ¨You´ve got a lot of balls to be talking to my bitch for such a dickless wonder. I thought after beating it into your skull for a couple of years that you'd understand where your place is.¨

 Out of the corner of your eye, a massive wooden bat swings towards Tenko and smashes against his head with a sickening thud.

 They must have surrounded you from the other side of the building too when you both were distracted.

 You scream so loudly you can feel your vocal cords vibrating in your throat. Everything seems to move ten times faster as you´re suddenly yanked back by invisible feathers, and dragged almost 15 feet away from Tenko´s unmoving body right into Dabi´s cruel embrace. 

 He harshly spins you around and shakes you like a ragdoll, staring you straight in your horrified eyes.

 ¨I told you not to hang around him, right? Well, if you don´t wanna listen to me, then at least listen to the beautiful sounds of your precious boy toy getting his skull bashed in.¨

And with that he spins you around again, a vice-like grip on your arms as he traps you against his hard body. You´re faced with front-row seats to watch the nauseating scene of Tenko indeed getting beaten to a pulp.

 ¨I´m going to make you fucking regret it,¨ He hisses in your ear, but you´re so dizzy with blood and teeth littering the ground filling your vision that you can´t even move.

 You vaguely hear Hawks tsk next to you, leaning against the wall and stretching his wings as if he had better places to be. As if watching a kid getting beaten half to death was something he saw every day.

 Grunts and jeering comments come from the large tattooed boys while they rain blow after blow on Tenko´s shuddering body. You can't even comprehend what kind of pain he´s in from the inhumane shrieks that come out of him. It was mesmerizingly terrifying how a human being could make sounds like the ones he was making, ranging from low wails of pleading mercy to high pitched cries of pain when they began kicking him.

 Feet pound on his back, crushing his paper-thin skin against the gravel, causing it to rip and tear,allowing rivers of blood to pool around his form. Now-cracked baseball bats become dented as they explode down on his head, and you distantly wonder how he's still alive with bits of hair and membrane clinging to the wood.

Your best friend flinches every time contact is made with his body; his fingers are curled and raised above his head to protect himself, and you think you can make out his chest puffing in and out a mile a minute. He might be having a panic attack, you´re not sure and you want to run to him, but the loud ringing in your head and the tears that cascade down your face are indications that you know you´re utterly trapped right now. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

 ¨Stop,¨ you croak from the confines of Dabi´s arms, clawing at his jacket. ¨Please, stop, you're killing him.¨

 Dabi releases an arm to tap on his chin in mocking contemplation. ¨Hmm...tempting, but no thanks doll. This is supposed to be a lesson, not a freebie.¨ ¨Are we done from here?¨ A nasaly bored voice emerges from the background laughs and screams. The brunette with the beak-mask is standing a little away from Hawks, sighing and rolling his eyes.

 Is everyone here excluding you and Tenko a psychopath? How does Dabi even know them?

Not that you could say you were surprised, however. A man cruel enough to execute something like this surely has a heart blacker than coal.

 ¨Dabi, please!¨ you sob hysterically now, the pained noises coming from Tenko are coming out softer and less frequently now, you think he might die soon if one more bat slams into his ribcage. ¨I´ve learned my lesson, please, please don't do this to him.¨ you cry and beat your fists against his arms, which only squeeze painfully around your middle.

 ¨Nah, I don't think you have, actually. You said that last time, and look what's happening because of your lies,¨ he jeers at you, exchanging a smirk with Hawks.

 ¨I´ll do anything,¨ you whisper in desperation, looking at him full in his poker face.

 ¨Anything?¨ His brows raise gleefully, and you nod vigorously, not caring what that means for you, only concerned that the assault on the motionless body mere feet away from you stops.

 Dabi regards you for a moment, taking in your tears and wobbling lip, before he finally turns to the masked man, and gives him a curt nod. ¨Alright, we´re done here Kai. Take your guys and leave.¨

 The man named Kai dusts off his purple jacket and calls out for his boys to stop.

 ¨That's enough. We´re going.¨ He wrinkles his nose in afterthought. ¨And make sure you clean your stuff off, I don't wanna deal with bloody bats...god knows how many diseases that thing is carrying, ´looks like it has mange.¨ 

 That thing is currently groaning in difficulty to lift his face out of a puddle of his own blood, tears, and snot, almost choking on the mixed liquids invading his mouth and nostrils

 He blearily lifts his head ever so slightly, and sees you writhing in Dabi´s embrace, one of his forearms wrapped around the front of her throat and evidently choking you from the way you frantically gulp in air.

 He hoarsley whispers out your name, and you heave out another dry sob when you see his lips form your name in them. He painfully and slowly starts to rise up to his hands and knees, and it's like looking at a baby stand up for the first time from the amount of visible shaking you can see in his broken limbs.

 Dabi, you, Hawks, and Kai as well as the groupies all watch in awe as the stick-thin figure manages to elbow his way up, and Hawks scoffs in disbelief at Tenko´s grit. A man in his state shouldn't even be able to blink.

 Meanwhile, you can feel your fiance's arms tremble in barely concealed rage from watching the blatant act of disrespect.

 You want to tell Tenko to just stay the fuck down, and don´t piss them off further, but part of you takes savage pride in his perserverance.

 Is he just used to this? Is that why it's so easy for him to disregard the volumes of blood that come vomiting out of his mouth? How long has he been accustomed to places other than his heart being broken?

 It's hard not to cringe as he places his bloodied palms against the sharp concrete; you can see tiny pebbles embed themselves in his open wounds, and his fingers bend in unnatural ways as he elevates himself and maintains eye contact with just you.

 You think he's crying, but it's hard to tell when your own vision is blurry.

 It´s quiet for a moment after everyone witnesses Tenko´s own version of a fuck you, until Kai turns on his heels, his boys immediatley scrambling towards their leader as he makes to leave.

 He walks towards Hawks, and you can hear him murmur, ``You owe me.¨ He gives a curt nod to Dabi who merely grunts.

 Hawks, ever the optimist, laughs joyfully and reaches out a hand towards the beaked boy. ¨Of course man! We'll be in touch soon.¨

 Kai merely waves his hand in a resemblance of a farewell, crinkling his nose at Hawks´ outreached one. He rounds the corner, his boys smirking in tow, and then they´re gone. As if nothing has happened.

 The silence grows louder, deafening your ears. The only reprieve you get from feeling mounting terror of being vulnerable without anyone around is when Tenko starts hacking, his arms buckling underneath his weight in an effort to keep upright.

 And then they surround you.

 ****

 ¨What's with the tears baby? You knew this was gonna happen, we warned you-¨

¨-Scared you´re gonna end up like him? Good, but I´ll be honest, I think cum would look better coating your face-¨

 ¨-You didn't actually think I was gonna let you get away with this shit again, did you? God you´re such a spoiled slut, I´m gonna enjoy breaking you down like your parents never did-¨

 Shoving you around and into each other, groping you, leering right in your personal space, advancing towards you so that you stumbled backwards closer to Tenko.

 ¨No, stop, leave me-us alone, stay away from me!¨ You scream, and Dabi wraps an inflamed hand around your upper arm, racking up the volume of your cries.

 ¨Shut the fuck up. You don't get to complain anymore, you're gonna finish your punishment you little brat.¨

You wail as you wrench yourself out of his grip, fueled by pure adrenaline. Ignoring your searing flesh, you try running around them but with a lazy flick of Hawk´s wrist, numerous feathers catch you around your collar and feet, pulling you back. Your thrashing only serves in getting cut up more, and they deposit you less-than-gently right next to Tenko.

 He watches with wide eyes and shakes his head with urgency for you to leave, to run again, but his head is forcefully slammed to the ground by the blond´s boot. You hear a crunch from his nose and bile rises from your throat as you try scrambling towards him out of instinct.

 ¨Do you have a death wish? Stop worrying about him, and worry about yourself for a second doll, you´re gonna want to.¨ A scarred hand grabs your chin and yanks it to face him. His lips are curled back, his lids lowered and his eyebrows are raised.

 You jerk your head back and spit in his face. ¨You´re not gonna get away with this Touya.¨ You don't even care about using his other moniker anymore. ¨How the fuck can I not worry about him? Look at him! You´re the crazy one!¨

 He snickers and crouches to your level, moving forward until your rapid crab-walk backwards results in your back hitting the brick wall.

 ¨You hear that Keigo? I´m gonna pay for this, oh no, however will I recover?¨ He simpers, joining in Keigo´s boisterous cackles. 

 You risk a panicked glance at Tenko. At least there wasn't a boot on the back of his head anymore, but you didn't gain any comfort when he was roughly grabbed by his shirt and lifted up to a sitting position facing you, Hawks smugly holding his head up from rolling around in its socket. 

  His face was a mess. You could barely recognize his thin, narrow features anymore when his whole head was caked with splotches of liquid red, mud, and gravel piercing his cheeks. His mouth was gaping, filled with yet even more blood, and where his teeth used to be was instead gaping holes and vermillion-stained cracked bone

 Now that he's sitting somewhat upright, you can clearly see protrusions where his ribs are, clearly indicating breaks and torn ligaments.

 But your attention is directed to the monster in front of you. He rests a burning hand on your calf, and you whimper as you try to pull back from the unbearable pain. You were certain that if when you got out of here, you´d need to go to an infirmary immediately.

 Touya stops your leg from retreating, holding it down while simultaneously trailing his digits up your leg, crawling forward even closer to you with the most disgusting shit-eating grin on his face while doing so. All your pleas of ¨Stay back¨ and ¨Don't come any closer Touya, I swear-!¨ does nothing to deter him, rather goading him on while your audience of two watches in horror from one man and perverted amusement with the other.

 ¨Yeah? Or what, huh? You gonna hit me with your quirk? Oh wait, you don't have one.¨

 He straddles you, pressing his chest against yours and shamelessly looking down when your breasts swell from the pressure. You bite your lip and turn your head, taking in quick inhales to avoid breathing in too much of the smell of smoke.

 ¨Nuh-uh princess, I want your eyes on me now when I fuck you. I’m gonna show you who daddy is today.¨

 You don’t know what kind of adrenaline rush you experience when the words slip out, “That’s rich from the guy who practically creamed his pants when he talked to his own daddy. Why don’t you solve your own daddy issues before starting mine, huh?”

 He slaps you so hard you see stars within the setting sun.

 It's hard to tell who hates who more at the moment, but regardless, it doesn’t stop Dabi from grabbing your cunt and squeezing hard.

 Your lids fly open and your head snaps forward to face him in sheer panic, the moment of bravado gone as the chemicals pumping through your brain catch up to your heart.

 ¨Wait, no-¨

 In one fluid movement, he clenches his thighs on either side of yours, and uses his legs to flip you over. With the same momentum, he grabs your arms and yanks you to the new switched position; him against the wall and you in between his legs, back to his chest.

 In another time, Touya would have been secretly overjoyed being pressed against you so intimately like this. It almost felt domestic, not that he knew anything about that word, but it was the closest feeling he could pinpoint to it. His heart was pounding, and he wondered if you could feel it against your back.

 He hoped you could.

 The vague sounds of Shit-mura noisily inhaling through his broken nose only bothered him slightly, the feeling of his counterpart´s greedy eyes scanning your body and his hold on you barely registered. He was in a zone of his own at that moment, just the two of you, regardless of the circumstances. 

 Touya didn´t actually think of this as a punishment, no, he thought of this simply as an opportunity to unapologetically make love fuck you and show you how much he wants you who´s boss. Nothing personal, just business. You have to learn how to please your husband eventually right? Might as well let him show you how a woman is supposed to act in front of a man.

 It was just pure bad luck for you that you got saddled with a man who wants you to act like a whore for him.

 ¨Yo, Keigo, help me out here, the bitch won't stop moving.¨ He grunts out, struggling to subdue your flailing limbs. Despite him amping up the temperature in his palms against your stomach and arms, you still continued to try and escape him. 

 He couldn't bear to do any worse, the tears rolling down your face already made his heart feel funny and he didn't want to feel anything anymore.

 Hawks sighed dramatically and unleashed a few of his feathers to aid Dabi. Immediately your wrists were pinned to your sides, your feet weighed down by the sheer force of the plumage. You break down and sob to your heart's content, knowing that you were done for.

 Touya feels your body slacken, and he quickly put out the fire in his fists.

 ¨Watch the show, Tenko. I know you´ve been dying for a piece of this ass for a while, anyways.¨

 Hawks jerks Tenko´s chin forwards, ensuring that his attention was on you as Dabi began feeling you up, relishing in how your rib cage shook with heaves as you shook in his arms. He shoved his hands underneath your shirt and lifted the hem up all the way over you, the feather pulling your arms above you for easier access.

 A sudden breeze rattled you to your core, but it wasn´t just the weather that made your teeth chatter.

 It was the sick desperation and rapt attention in Tenko´s eyes. It was Keigo was looking you over with lowered lids, palming himself and hissing when Dabi took a mismatched finger and pulled your bra cups down ever so slightly, teasing the boys with cleavage and a hint of areola.

 ¨Touya, please,¨ you squint your eyes shut and turn your head away from salacious gazes. ¨If-if you´re gonna do this, please don't let them watch.¨

 ¨Nah sweetheart,¨ he simpers as he burns the straps off your undergarment, allowing the sheer protection to fall to the gravel. ¨You wanted to whore yourself out, right? Well, this is what happens to little whores who don´t wanna keep their legs closed.¨ His voice is right at your ear, nipping and suckling the senstivie flesh while his ruthless hands take handfuls of your tits and squeeze them, rub them together, weigh them appreciatively in his scratchy flesh.

 ¨Fuck, flick her nipples a bit, I wanna see them get hard,¨ Keigo groans out, yanking Tenko´s bleeding head. ¨You like this, you little perv? You like watching your best friend get raped?¨

 ¨N-no, no I don't! Leave her alone!¨ And even if it wasn´t from Keigo shoving him down and wrestling for his zipper to pull his hard dick out, you would've already known he's lying from the way his bloody mouth opens slightly and drools watching Dabi pinch and roll your nipples.

 You keen and whimper as Dabi leans his head down past your neck and lifts a breast up, darting his tongue out and swirling the appendage over your hardening buds. The feathers prove to be useful when they hold your wrists down and prevent you from escaping him.

 ¨Holy shit, he's actually hard from this. You´re even more fucked up than I thought, Shimura, I´m almost impressed.¨ The beaten boy cries out and pathetically tries to remove his member from Keigo´s tight fist, but obviously is no match for the way the blond fucks the skinny dick in his hand, squeezing almost painfully at his tip. With the help of his other feathers, he frees his own length and teases himself, the red turning white at the tips as they collect his precum.

 Dabi says nothing, but keeps his eyes on Tenko as he moves your body up into his lap, settling your ass right on top of his erection. You inhale shakily as he too fumbles to release his aching cock from his jeans, your nose clogged from crying and your voice hoarse from screaming. He lifts your skirt up and hisses in appreciation at the direct contact your panty-clad ass gives, suffocating his dick in your warmth.

 The experimentally thrusts lightly a couple times, jostling you up and down and making your tits bounce. Keigo and Tenko look in awe, the feathers and hands moving rapidly in time with Dabi´s thrusting. You try to avoid eye contact with either of them or their leaking dicks.

 You feel like your heart is a runny mess, you´re a mess, your hair is fucked up, your clothes are being strewn on the ground and burned away, your skin is being molested, you don´t know what the fuck is going on or what to do.

 So instead of pleading, you decide to relent and get this over with quickly. The less resistance you show, the faster you can get Tenko to an E.R.

 And speaking of faster, Dabi has stopped grinding against your ass in favor of snaking a hand around and toying with the hem of your panties, holding your skirt up.

 You bite your lip and your eye twitches, but you stay silent save for shuddering inhales through your nose.

 Taken slightly aback by your lack of complaint, Dabi hesitates for a moment before shaking it off, delving his fingers into your panties, the cloth moving and bulging out from his hand sliding in and out of your folds.

 You whimper and jerk your hips minutely in instinct, and he feels it, much to your horror. He grins and takes it as encouragement, circling his digits through your little-more-than folds until he finds the clit by the way you jump at contact.

 He presses down, flicks it, circles it, gathering lube from your mutinously throbbing cunt to slick yourself up, thoroughly enjoying your sharp inhales and the way you can´t help moving against the invading actions.

 It's only when Keigo calls out that Dabi remembers he's not doing this to please you, he´s doing this to fuck you over just like how you did to him. 

 ¨Pull her panties off, I think our little vouyer here is gonna come soon,¨ he positively purrs as he presses a thumb against Tenko´s jerking hips.

 More blood has covered Shimura´s head and body, but even amongst the mess of flesh that was once his face you can clearly see his eyes wide open, pupils blown black with lust, bones actually audibly rattling in their broken sockets as he breathes heavily at your corruption. 

 He looks insane, more insane than the ones actually raping you. You wonder if you feel more violated by the obvious monsters who told you straight up what they were going to do to you, or the one who swore to be your friend, who swore to never relish in your pain.

 You´re brought out of your empty contemplation when Dabi neglects fingering your clit to yank your skirt off your shaking legs. He doesn't even bother with slowly stripping the panties off, impatience overriding better judgement. You again offer little to no resistance as he does so, which riles up the squeamish feeling in his heart.

 Now fully exposed to him, his cock stretches another couple of millimeters, looking like it's going to burst from the angry red and purple swelling it adorns.

 Keigo whistles and licks his lips, lecherously looking over your tits and exposed pussy all for the taking.

 He pulls your hips back and forces you to hover right above his standing cock, causing your knees to shake in exertion. You feel like you´re going to faint any second.

 ¨You ready doll? Ready to take your husband´s cock for the first time?¨ He cooes, bringing you lower and swiping the weeping slit of his prick against the wetness of your folds. You mewl and try to shift, but it only serves in him pulling you down even more, your labia ever so slightly enveloping the top of his tip.

 Your cunt is pounding with rushing blood, and he almost gasps as the sensation flows into both of your sensitive bits.

 Leaning forward, he conceals his mouth behind your hair as he mutters, ¨Try to relax for me, it´ll hurt less.¨

 You can't care less for his consideration, not when his jerky thrusts feel like they're splitting you in two. All your poor pussy is aware of is the blinding white-hot pain felt on every wall as Touya takes from you what you would not willingly give.

 The sounds of your squelching hole-whether from blood, precum, your own tears, who knows-fill the air obscenely. You mistake a glance upwards in your blurry vision and you nearly vomit when you see Hawk´s hand furiously bobbing up and down Tenko´s flushed red dick, and his own being caressed with lust. They look like fucking dogs drooling over your state.

 You´re brought out of your horrified reverie when Dabi hisses. He fully sheathes himself inside you and you mewl at the sensation of being filled. Liquid trails down where you two connect, and it feels disgusting as he pulls out only to slam back into you, the cooling wetness of said liquids splashing everywhere and onto the concrete below you.

 Your tits bounce up and down as Dabi takes his sweet time pulling out all the way only to give you a moment's reprieve before diving back into the wet cavern. Eyes rolling back into your head at the feeling of his veiny dick thrusting in and out of you, mouth open when he remembers to heat up his hands and play with your nipples, your legs shaking when he alternates to play with your clit, you look like a real slut.

 Tenko cums suddenly, crying out and jerking his hips up into Hawks hand when you let out an especially pornographic moan. Ropes of white shoot up like a fountain from his tip and splatter Keigo´s hand and the pavement.

 Keigo cries out and laughs in disgust, wiping his soiled hand into Tenko´s hair.

 ¨You see that? Look how perfect and sweet your little friend is now, Y/N,¨ Dabi pants into your ear, yanking your hair back and forcing you to look at your ex best friend.

 ¨No, d-don´t wanna look, please let go,¨ you babble as he fucks you stupid.

 ¨Shut up. Whores don't get to beg for mercy,¨ He sneers as he slaps a bouncing tit, hard.

 ¨The same should apply for cucks like him,¨ Keigo speaks up and slaps the back of Tenko´s head, sending blood and hair flying off his face.

 Dabi stops pounding into you, allowing you to take a merciful breath despite what he said.

 ¨Yeah? You think so?¨ Shimura snaps out of his daze when he realizes they´re talking about him. He shakes his head frantically and tries to tuck his softening cock into his pants but a red feather is quick to restrain him.

 ¨Uh-uh, pathetic bastards like you need to get their dues too. We let you off easy with the Shie Hassaiki,¨ He snickers.

 ¨Come one. Lick this mess up. I'm sure you dreamt about it before, closet perv.¨ Dabi sneers as the blond´s boot sends Tenko flying forwards, almost colliding with your stomach.

 You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling shakily as he gets back up on his hands and knees. You can't bear to look at him right now.

 They all disgust you.

 ¨What did I just say, slut? Eyes open.¨ A patched hand slaps you and your head is snapped forwards mere inches from Tenko´s. 

 Your gazes meet, but you can't recognize the eyes anymore. They used to belong to a man´s but now they reflect that of a monster´ s.

 ¨Clean this mess up. Any time this little pussy drools you´re going to eat it up like the roach you are. And if by the time she's done riding and I see a single patch of slick on her I'll knock the rest of your teeth out, got that?¨ Dabi reaches his arm around and pulls the weak boy´s hair forwards until his nose nestles where your filled pussy is.

 All you can do is watch as he hesitantly darts his tongue out and licks from Dabi´s engorged dick up to your clit.

 ¨Fuck you,¨ you whisper to no one and everyone as you let your head fall back, signaling to your finance that you were in enough pain to start up again.

 ¨You´ve had enough rest. Ride my fucking dick until I say stop.¨ He doesn't need to threaten you this time. You shakily rise up on your knees and twitch when he slaps your ass suddenly. The entire time you lift yourself up, Tenko´s tongue follows up Dabi´s exposed length until it swirls around your clit again.

 You feel numb. 

 Sinking back down onto him is even more excruciating because you can vividly feel every inch of him scraping up against your walls. It doesn't help that a certain tongue is lapping away at you too.

 But nonetheless you don´t waste any time bouncing up and down like your life depended on it, which it probably did.

 You can hear him panting behind you, his mouth letting out ragged breaths against your ear, his mouth desperately trying to suck galaxy colored hickies into your naked torso as you envelope him.

 The feeling of Dabi and Tenko´s breaths puffing onto your clit and nipples would´ve caused the start of a climax if it weren't for Keigo´s unnecessary commentary.

 ¨Holy fucking shit that´s so messed up. Wait no, move down a bit, lick the base of his dick. Yeahhh, just like that.¨ He walks around the scene with his phone out, obviously recording as he leans in toward some anatomy and pulls away to get the bigger picture at other angles.

 And Tenko actually listens. He follows through every salacious order Keigo gives, he even does it a little bit better than someone who's supposed to at least pretend they're not enjoying your ordeal.

 You can tell Dabi is reaching his peak when he suddenly grabs your hips in a bruising grip and slams you down on his length, emitting a broken scream from you. He quickly slaps a hand over your mouth and spews filth in your ear as he uses you like a fleshlight.

 ¨You like bouncing on my dick like a whore? Huh, Y/N? Answer me you little bitch, or are you too cock hungry to say anything else? Not enough dicks here to satisfy you, princess? Keigo, get over here, she looks like she needs more.¨ You wail and scream behind his hand as Keigo eagerly stands over you, his member already being pumped in a hand.

 ¨That's right slut, you already know what to do, don´t you? I bet a slut like you has practice, ´bet you and the degenerate licking the cum from your pussy did it all the time.¨ You look imploringly at his head ducked between your thighs and even clench them around his head to get his attention. But he refuses to refute the accusations hissed at you in favor of eating your own slick off your puffy folds.

 Keigo waits no longer as he seizes your hand and slaps it against his base, silently urging you to stroke him. You wearily look up at him and are faced with a bright camera light trained on your fucked-out face and trembling hand. Knowing that you were stuck, you started stroking, accepting whatever pace he made you take as he lifted his hips up into your cupped palm, his balls smacking against your wrist while you jacked him off.

 Dabi´s pants grew louder and more choked as every part of you became occupied with cocks. He still kept a hand over your mouth, bringing it up to his mouth every couple of seconds to taste the tears that slid down from your eyes down to his digits.

 ¨´Gonna cum, and you´re gonna take it all in that sloppy hole of yours. ´M gonna fill you up with cum and make you fat with my kids, you´re gonna be on your fucking hands and knees for me like a good little housewife aren´t you-¨

 The third time he brings his hand away to taste your tears you frantically gasp out, ¨Don´t do it inside Touya, please don´t, not inside I'm begging you to-¨

 But you´re cut off suddenly when Tenko teeths at your slicked clit, and you mewl, unconsciously rolling your hips into his mouth even more.

 His tongue travels around your stretched labia and around Dabi´ś balls, causing you both to hiss in unison.

 ¨I'll do whatever the fuck I want. You´re lucky I´m not fucking you up the ass, you ungrateful bitch.¨

 His dick starts twitching in your pussy, and you know he's about to burst.

 ¨I´ll never forgive you.¨ You whisper in defeat, for the umpteenth time.

 ¨I don't need you to,¨ he merely grunts as he cums inside you with a loud groan.

 His body shakes and he pulls your naked back against his torso, hugging you tightly and filling you up. At the same time, Keigo also lets out a string of curses as your hand is doused with milky white substance from his own.

 Dabi grabs your jaw and turns you to face him. ¨Who do you love?¨ he purrs, nuzzling your cheek with faux affection.

 You force yourself to make it sound faux, because you hate the way he looks so deeply into your eyes.

 ¨Y-you.¨ ¨That´s a good girl,¨ he whispers and kisses you, hard.

 You´re slumped. There´s mixed cum from all four people coating your body, various fluids and anatomy strewn on the concrete around you, and clothes shuffling in place as they regroup themselves. 

 Tenko slowly crawls back up from his position in front of your cunt, rearing back on his knees and wiping streaming blood from his head. Keigo tucks his dick back in his pants and cruelly wipes the cum that flew on his clothes into your hair, while Dabi dumps you off his lap onto the grating ground.

 ¨Well, I hope you two learned your lesson today,¨ Keigo simpered with scrunched eyebrows, pouting at you both.

 By now the inky haired man has gotten to his feet, brushing his hands off excess grime. 

 ¨That was fun, I should've done this a lot sooner, honestly,¨ he leers at both the figures on the ground, and you refrain from looking anyone in the eyes. ¨I´m gonna take her home. Keigo, deal with this fuckwad while I'm gone. And get him an ice pack, he looks like pure shit.¨ He snorts to himself.

 ¨How considerate of you Touya. And here I was thinking you didn't have a heart.¨

 You and Tenko don´t join in their vicious laughter.

 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, the worst is over. I doubt you´ll go through that again, since you know what'll happen if you continue to act out.¨ Your fiance crouches down and starts shoving your limbs back into their clothes, ignoring the way you weakly try to evade his callous touch.

 Everyone stares in silence as you´re dressed like a child, unable to properly move from the shock and trauma you just endured. It was weird seeing you so quiet. They thought you would´ve still been crying, or at least fighting back now that they no longer had a hold on you.

 But you were so, so accommodating as Touya pulled you up to your feet, keeping a firm grasp around your waist to keep your knees from buckling. You kept your head down as he grabbed your backpack from a helping feather´s elevation and slung it over his own shoulder.

 ¨I´ll catch you later Kei. Keep me updated on our little experiment,¨ he winks before steering you around the corner.

 That was the last time you saw Tenko Shimura, your best friend of years.

 ¨E-experiment?¨ His hoarse voice questions, nasally from the buildup in his broken nose.

 ¨Yeah, you heard right. You´re our little experiment, Shimura. Truth be told, I always saw the potential in you. After Touya showed me those texts between you and Y/N it just confirmed my suspicion.¨ Keigo plucked a feather out and tossed it to Tenko´s gnarled hand. ¨Here, use this to wipe that shit off your face. I´m not in the mood to drag you to a nurse right now so this´ll have to do.¨

 ¨Potential? Suspicion? I don't get it,¨ he brings the feather up painfully down the sides of his cheeks, collecting the grime and gore onto the victimized plumage.

 The blond grimaces at the disgusting sight and looks away. ¨I mean, I see the potential in you to be one of us. I knew you weren't this goody-two shoes, quiet loser that everyone made you out to be. And you really proved it today, too. I didn´t know you had it in you all the way to eat her cunt like that while she was getting raped, shit was pretty erotic if I´m being honest.¨

 Tenko cringes at the brutal choice of words but doesn´t refute them. He stays quiet before Keigo realizes he needs some more coaxing out of his cautious state.

 ¨Hey, look man, none of that stuff earlier was personal, alright? Touya just needed to prove a point to his bitch, that's all.¨ He shrugs so easily, as if everyone was as delusional as him to believe that.

 But maybe Tenko really had snapped, because he turned to Keigo with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, taking in his words.

 ¨Really? I thought you guys hated me,¨ he mutters, looking down at the soiled feather in his hand.

 ¨Nah, it's nothing like that. Just gotta prove to us how you´re different, y´know?¨ Hawks slings an arm and wing around Tenko´s bruised shoulder as if to offer him some security.

 ¨You don´t wanna be a loser anymore, right? Consider this a new chapter in your life, the next big steps.¨ ¨Yeah.¨ ¨Good.¨ They stay like that for a couple moments of silence, drinking in the setting sun.

 And then Tenko can´t hold his curiosity any longer.

 ¨But how do I do that? There´s nothing really about me that´s special...I mean, except for...however the hell I was acting like earlier,¨ he shifts uncomfortably, recalling the thirst he felt when he saw your sopping cunt getting fucked stupid. It was strange, really. The itch in his body had never felt more satiated when he felt like the oppressor once, rather than the oppressed when watching your eyes fill up with tears, knowing that he was the one who caused it. He had never felt that calm and pleased even when the itch was satisfied by your soothing fingers over his scratched-raw skin.

 ¨That's what I'm thinkin´ too,¨ Keigo thoughtfully holds a hand to his chin, his wings flapping lazily with the cool breeze. ¨I´d say the first step to a new chapter with us is to change that dopey schoolboy name. Tenko Shimura? That sounds like a dog´s name. And you don´t wanna be a kicked around puppy anymore, do you?¨

Tenko vigorously shakes his head. 

 A new chapter with us.

 Us.

 He swallows hard, unable to think of a cool name that would be good enough as a new group member. The shock on his body was catching up, so he forfeited his pride and sought help from his recruiter.

 “Did you have anything in mind?”

 Hawks hums thoughtfully. “Yeah...how ‘bout Tomura? Tomura Shigaraki?” He looks over ex-Tenko’s broken body and nods in confirmation.

“Tomura...Shigaraki,” the new Tomura says slowly, letting his tongue run over his missing and broken teeth in the midst of testing out the new name.

 “The kanji for it has to do with change and mourning, something like that I think. It’s pretty fitting, especially since you’re letting go of your past and moving on with your life...right?” Keigo side eyes Tomura mischievously, knowing he was in no place to defy him.

 Shigaraki merely looks to the horizon, silently acknowledging the new chapter of his life. Another cold breeze swirls around the two men, but it's not the sting of the wind that brings newfound tears to Tenko Tomura’s eyes.

 He shakily rises to his feet with a grunt, clutching his ribs and tilting his head back to avoid breathing in anymore drying blood. Keigo gets up with him, outstretching a hand towards him to steady him on his feet, which Tomura takes.

 “I think I need to see a nurse.”

 The blond laughs, his wings fluttering with the waves of his voice.

 “Almost forgot about that. But y’know, you should be more careful next time you train with us. I don’t think your body can take any more damage than it already has.”

 ******************

 You haven’t returned any of Touya’s calls.

 You haven’t received any messages from Tenko.

 You didn’t get out of bed when you saw a red feather zooming past your window in the morning.

 You’ve been home for three days now, huddled under the comforters and only getting up to drink some water like a zombie. Showers are a no-go, it’s unbearable to look at your own naked body anymore. The school kept ringing your parents for your attendance, but the image of you stumbling home and bursting into tears is fresh in their minds; they let the calls go to voicemail.

 Tenko’s broken body. His screams of agony. Dabi’s hands all over you, Hawk’s feather holding you down, your body shifted and positioned like a ragdoll-it’s all too much, you can’t face anyone yet. You’re absolutely terrified.

 A knock at the door jolts you out of your catatonic state.

 “Honey? You want something to eat? We haven’t seen you come out today…” Your father’s voice trails off unsuredly, and after some harsh whispers coming from behind the door and scuffling sounds, your mother speaks.

“You need to move around sweetheart-”

 Your body jolts violently when she says that cursed nickname.

 “Ahh come on sweetheart, the worst is over.”

 “-did something happen with you and Tenko? You two haven’t talked in so long, you usually never argue like this.”

 A burning comes up in your chest as your stomach rumbles, bile rising up your throat. You want them to leave. Now.

 “I’ll-” you cough and clear your raspy voice from disuse. “I’ll be out in a bit, ‘head hurts.”

 “Are you sure? We can come get it for you, we don’t mind-”

 “-No, I’m fine. Please just...just give me some time.” You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, silently willing them to go away.

 It’s only until the sound of their footsteps padding away from your door that you rigidly rise out of bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand.

 2 missed calls from Rumi, 3 text messages from Touya, and nothing from Tenko.

 Was he alive?

 With trembling hands, you punch in his contact and pull up your messages.

 3:04 pm: We need to talk.

 You sigh and throw the phone back on the table, running your hands down your face. You just wanted things to go back to normal, when you and him were okay, when you werent engaged to Touya, when they didn’t turn him into a monster who ate you out while you bounced up and down and up and fucking down on your rapist’s-

 No. You can’t think like that. You can’t. That wasn’t him, they made him do that.

 At least, that’s what you tell yourself in order for your sanity to remain on its barest of threads.

 Time moves at a snail’s pace as you find things to do that distract you from checking your messages every five minutes. Soggy leftovers are pushed through your throat, the t.v blares while you watch without actually seeing, your bedsheets are made and remade into perfection...but nothing prevents you in the end from snatching up the device and checking for his text.

Nothing. Absolutely nada.

 Just a “read” sign that makes you see red.

 Who the fuck did he think he was? He wasn’t the fucking vitcim, you were-

 Oh. But he was, just as much as you were.

 Anger curls into anxiety as you nibble your lip in contemplation. Was he mad at you?

 It was your fault in a way.

 You try calling him, no one picks up.

 If he was going to flat out ignore you, then you knew there was only one way to corner him for talking.

 And corner him you did, when on a bright Wednesday morning you decide to go to school, for nothing else if not hounding Tenko down and seeing if he was okay. You didn’t know if he deserved it, but you just had to see him once.

 You wait outside his front gate, idly watching the sky turn from a deep purple to mix in with hues of orange and blue. After a few minutes, the door creaks open and you whip around to face him.

 It’s only been a few days since you two last saw each other, but at that moment when he turns and his eyes go wide from seeing you, you feel as though you’ve never known him before. Not his tangly hair that hangs in front of his face, not the new bruises and bandages on various parts of his body, and not the sneer his mouth curls into, that is oh so reminiscent of-

 “Where have you been? You didn’t answer your phone…” You trail off confusedly as he practically shoves past you through the gate, ignoring the way you stumble from the impact of his bony shoulder.

 “Hey, wait up!”

 You do a light jog after him but your heart is pumping at light speed, uncertainty creeping up your spine at his behavior.

 “Tenko, stop!”

 “It’s Tomura, now, Tomura. Don’t call me by that dopey ass name anymore.” He stops in his tracks and looks down at you as you pant and stare at him.

 “T-Tomura? What’s that? And answer my question, where have you been?”

“Yeah, fucking Tomura Shigaraki to you. And I’ve been doing my own thing now. I’m not wagging my tail behind you like a fucking lapdog anymore, got it?” He shoulders his bag and continues to walk past you.

 “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you so upset at me, I didn’t even do anything!” You walk backwards side by side with him, desperately trying keep up with his curt pace.

 “Oh right, you’re just so innocent aren’t you? I should’ve left you from the start, honestly. Keigo was right.” “Keigo? When did you talk to him? He assaulted you! How could you even face him? “You say that as if he’s the one who made me like this.” He gestures to his barely healing body, and your breath catches in your throat.

 “Wait...you’re blaming me?”

 “Finally got it Einstein?” He sneers at you. “You did this to me, you made Keigo and Touya beat the shit out of me. If you had just listened to them and left me the fuck alone, I wouldn’t have suffered half as much as I already have.”

 You ball your fists and try to swallow the growing bulge in your throat. You thought your sanity would be kept intact for a while longer, but you feel the last threads barely hanging on.

 “Tenk-Tomura, please just wait a second,” You say desperately, not even thinking before grabbing onto his shirt sleeve. You want to hold him here forever, you want to go back, you want things to be the way they were before, he can’t leave you alone with Touya-

 “I’m glad they showed me how selfish you’ve always been. You never thought of my safety when you kept hanging around me knowing full well that they’d beat the shit out of me if they caught us. And they did! You happy now?” He’s laughing, but he can’t hide the rage from his balled shaking fists.

 “No, no please-” you whisper horrified.

 But he turns around, barely glancing back at you before bidding his adieu.

 “I’m saying goodbye to you as Tenko, and saying hello as Tomura now. Forget we were ever friends, it means nothing to me now. I used to feel like a burden to you, but it’s funny, you seem to be weighing me down more than ever now.”

 “But don’t worry. You’ll still see me around. After all, Keigo and Touya seem to be pretty solid guys. And hey, maybe I’ll even be the best man at your wedding coming up.”

 Your head is swimming. The sky is almost a clear blue now, the purple having faded away a long time ago. The sounds of strings stretching are brought to a climax.

 He’s so close, yet so far away from you that you barely catch the words that come tumbling out of his mouth so easily, so effortlessly you'd think he’d either rehearsed saying them all his life or that he’s had a lifetime of saying it.

 “I fucking hate you.”

 And the threads snap.

[moldisgoodforyou]

on my mom's grave

wordcount: 3.7k

warnings: n/a

______

“How drunk do you think we’re going to get tonight?” Sophie asked, tipping back the last of a lemon White Claw as the two of them got ready for the night in her room.

“Dunno. I’m not really feeling it tonight.”

She paused, glancing back at him. “Do you not want to go?”

He shook his head and took the can from her, disappointed to realize there was nothing left. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m cool. Probably just won’t drink.”

“Is this about the phone call with your dad earlier?”

Rafe sighed, gritting his teeth. “It’s not - I’m fine, Soph.”

She crossed her arms and eyed him over, trying to get a read on his body language. “You’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” After Rafe tugged his shirt over his head, ready much faster than Sophie, he paced around the room for a few seconds before speaking up. "Hey, so...Sarah's getting presented at the annual deb ball in spring."

Sophie seemed unbothered, turning her back to him as she wrestled her way into a crop top to get ready for the night. "Those are still a thing? Cool, so you're going home for it?" She paused, glancing over at him in his polo. "Undo another button."

He did so, then rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets, trying to figure out what to say next.

She slowly turned back to him, realizing he was still tense across his shoulders. "What?"

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign he was nervous and Sophie wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "Yeah...my dad wanted you to come home for it too."

"What? Ward? Why?"

"He, kinda, uh, wants you to be presented too?"

She just laughed, turning back to the mirror with her brow furrowed in slight concentration as she applied another coat of mascara. "Okay. Sure." But when he didn't elaborate, she turned back to him again, lips pursed. "Cameron. Tell me you told him no."

"...I didn't not not tell him no."

"Rafe."

He cracked under her stare. "I'm sorry, okay! Look, it's easy, all you have to do is throw on a pretty white dress and gloves -"

"A dress that costs thousands of dollars -"

"Hundreds, but - I'll cover you, obviously -"

"No." She turned back to the mirror, shaking her head. "Fuck no. I'm not going."

"Sophie." He nearly begged, stepping closer and running his hand through his hair. "Baby. C'mon."

"Don't call me that. No. I don’t fit into that part of your world.”

"Not even for me?" He pleaded, giving her a half-hearted grin. He ignored her last sentence, knowing any argument he had for her point would be dismissed in two seconds. "I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important, you know that."

She turned back to him with crossed arms, fixing him with a glare. "Do I know that?"

"Soph."

"Don't, Rafe." She warned, holding one hand out, but he stepped closer anyways.

"Angel. Please. For me." He forced a smile, tried cracking a joke. "I really don't want to have to call him up and get read the riot act."

She furrowed her brow and Rafe reached out and smoothed out the lines in between her eyebrows before he could stop himself, making her soften just a little. "If I were to say yes. What would I have to do?"

"Just wear the dress, attend a dinner, party the night before and party that night." He paused, thinking. "And stay at my house for the weekend. Be civil to my dad.” At her eyeroll, he fixed her with a more serious gaze. “Meet my grandparents. Hang with my sisters. C'mon, Wheezie adores you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not. She thinks you're cool. Sarah too, but she’s less likely to admit it." He kissed her forehead, hands going to her waist. "Please?"

"It's that important?"

"I swear. On my mom's grave."

Sophie frowned immediately, reaching up to fix his hair. "That's not necessary."

"You'll do it?"

"...Yes." When he made a small fist pump, she fixed him with a glare. "Only because I love you."

“I'll go down on you every night for the next two weeks -”

She rolled her eyes at his promise, shoving lightly at his chest. "You basically already do that anyways, Rafe -”

"Okay, fine, I'll tie you up, something, anything, god, thank you, Soph. You don't know how big of a favor this is. I mean it." He sighed in relief, the tension draining from his body.

She ignored him, turning back to the mirror to apply lip gloss, carefully smearing the wand across her lips. “Why does he want me to do this? I don’t understand.”

“Is that the sticky stuff? I hate that stuff, it gets all over me when we’re kissing -” He started, then quickly shut his mouth as she flipped him off without looking. “Uh, ‘to integrate you into our society.’ Direct quote.”

“Oh god.” She groaned, setting the lip gloss aside after applying it, then started searching through her jewelry case. “So I’m gonna have to be on my best kook behavior?”

He snorted. “Sophie Flint, a kook. Not likely.”

“Watch it.” She pointed a warning finger in his face. “You don’t see anything weird with this? Your dad hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Rose does.”

“That’s not true either.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows, challenging him.

He shrugged, relenting with a sigh. “You’re not her favorite person, no, but neither am I.”

“You think this was more her idea? For Sarah to do it too?”

“Nah, actually, pretty sure it was my grandparents’ idea. Probably Granddad. My mom went through all this, so…”

She turned her back to him and gathered her hair, offering the clasp of her gold chain to him. “Your mom was a debutante?” She questioned with interest.

_______

Rafe rarely ever talked about his mom - Sophie had only found out how she died from a newspaper article in the online archives, and hadn’t wanted to bring it up since. All she knew was that Mrs. Cameron had passed away in a car accident when Rafe was fourteen.

Both Sophie and Rafe’s schools shared a building, despite them going to private academies, and overlapped for certain advanced placement classes. In freshman year, they were together for AP chemistry, with Sophie sitting proudly at the front of the class while Rafe sat in the back with a group of his friends, often cracking jokes at inappropriate times or throwing wads of paper at each other. Freshman year Sophie was the epitome of stuck-up - she resorted to insults instead of making friends and kept to herself, terrified someone might find out that she was on scholarship and wasn’t truly meant to be there.

The day after the car accident, Rafe was unusually quiet. Sophie hadn’t heard the news yet, it was barely second period and she wasn’t looped into the trail of gossip like the rest of the girls at Greenville. They were partnered for an experiment that day - Rafe had groaned when he heard Sophie’s name after his from the teacher, and Sophie barely suppressed a roll of her eyes. She took charge right away, getting all the supplies and set up their work station without even addressing him. After a few minutes, she slid the small glass of solution to Rafe, raising her eyebrows. “You can do the work too, you know.”

He was completely spaced out, only glancing up when she said something. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, lifting a beaker and extending it to him. “Yeah. I know. Just drop in 10 milliliters of the solution, it’s not hard.”

Rafe sighed as he rested his elbows on the edge of the table, rubbing his temples. “Look, can you just do it?”

She finally took note of the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders were slumped, but misinterpreted it all. She smirked, taking on a taunting tone. “What, you’re still drunk from last night or something?”

He gritted his jaw, his entire body growing tense, and tugged at the collar of his polo. “Fuck off, Flint. Not in the mood today.”

She recoiled immediately, setting the beaker down with a little too much force. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Don’t be a fucking bitch.” He spit back, standing abruptly. She winced as the stool squeaked across the floor, drawing everyone’s attention - as if they hadn’t had it already. Kelce stepped over and went to grab Rafe’s arm, possibly pull him away, but Rafe just wrenched his arm out of his grip. “I’m fine.” He growled, storming out of the classroom without looking back.

After a few moments of stunned silence, with Sophie on the verge of shocked tears, their teacher cleared her throat and redirected everyone’s attention, pointing one of the girls over to join Sophie instead. Molly made her way over, occupying Rafe’s seat in the space across from her. “Poor Rafe,” she murmured.

Sophie frowned, pulling her jacket tighter across her chest like a shield of armor. “Poor Rafe? What?”

Molly nodded, lowering her voice a little. “Yeah, you didn’t hear? I’m surprised he’s at school, honestly.”

“I didn’t...what happened?”

“Oh.” Molly frowned. “Um. You know that winding road, the one that goes downhill toward the ballet studio?”

Sophie didn’t, she didn’t even have a clue - the ballet studio was on the entire opposite side of the island from where she lived, the height of Figure 8, and she hadn’t ever had a reason to even venture that way. “Yeah? What does that have to do with Rafe?”

“Um, well, it was pouring last night, and his mom was driving down that road. I heard she lost control of the car and wrecked it. There was, like, a drunk driver that swerved into her lane, but she tried to avoid him and hit a tree.” Molly told her, careful on the details.

“I’m pretty sure the Camerons can replace a car.” Sophie replied, not wanting Molly to confirm where she thought she was going with the story. She dug her nails into the skin of her thigh anyways, feeling anxiety bubble up in her chest.

Molly shook her head, slowly. “Mrs. Cameron died, Sophie.”

Her heart dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek, hard. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the sirens last night, I saw like eight police cars last night headed toward his house. I heard Sarah was in the car too, I think -”

“Is Sarah okay?” She couldn’t concentrate on anything but her ears ringing, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Oh, yeah, I think so. But god, how awful, right? The funeral is next weekend, Ward Cameron told my dad this morning. Is your family going?”

“Um...I don’t know.” Sophie glanced toward the door, hoping to god he would come back through the door and Molly would confess that it was all a joke, that she hadn’t just started something with Rafe on that day of all days.

________

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course she was. I think she really enjoyed it, actually, she’d always tell Sarah when she was little about how pretty she would look in the dress, how important it was to learn the right etiquette and -” He cut himself off, realizing he was sharing too much, and deftly fastened the clasp before pressing a kiss to the top of her head, letting her step away. “All that.”

“Huh.”

He smiled to himself, thinking about how his mom would let little Sarah play dress up in her old ballgown with gloves that went up to her armpits, wobbling around in high heels twice the size of her feet. His mom would tell Rafe he’d have to watch out for Sarah with her escort, keep him in line, and that when he was in college he’d be presenting a girl as well. But he was nine and didn’t think of girls in that way quite yet, so he always scowled and left the room.

“It’s kind of cool, I think. The tradition of it all.”

“The ball? Have you been?” She caught his eye in the mirror as she adjusted her top, not wanting to push for too much information before he’d shut down altogether.

“No...I was gonna present Brooklyn at the one here in Columbus, sophomore year’s normally when the girl gets presented, but. Yeah. No, I meant, it’s kind of cool that you’ll be doing something my mom did.” He rubbed the back of his neck, meeting her gaze for a moment then looked away.

“Yeah?”

“She would have liked you. I know it.”

Sophie perked up a little, cocking her head. “You really mean it?”

“Yeah. She would have liked that you have an attitude with me.” He grinned when she turned back around and took his hand, tugging him over to sit on the bed next to her. “She was always saying I needed to find someone to match my energy, keep me in check. I wish she could have met you.”

“I did meet her. Once.”

He perked up, cocking his head. “You did?”

“Yeah, I served her when I was working at the restaurant at the country club once, I was only fourteen. I remember she made some comment about me being too young to work and I told her I liked it. Then she asked my name, and I remember she seemed like she knew already when I told her.” Sophie nodded. “She was really nice, left way too big of a tip and wrote my name on the bill. I always thought that was funny.”

Of course she knew, Rafe thought as he smiled to himself. She knew, because Rafe had come home and complained about a girl getting on his nerves every single week since seventh grade. She knew, when the complaints turned to “why won’t just be nice to me” and his mom had quipped that Sophie probably liked him - he had scoffed and walked away. She knew, because his mom had come home from the country club and told him Sophie Flint was a much nicer girl than Rafe painted her to be, and Rafe had immediately turned bright red and been embarrassed that his mom sought her out.

“I like that.” She leaned into him, taking his hand to play with his rings. “Will your grandparents be there? At the ball?”

“Oh, yeah. They sit on the board, I’m pretty sure, it’s this gigantic charity event. I’ll introduce you, but don’t worry, they’re chill. Nothing like my dad.” He adjusted himself so she was comfortable, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She chewed on the inside of her lip, treading carefully. “I thought your dad grew up on the Cut.”

“He did. But my mom, no way. Kook through and through. That’s, uh, where a lot of my trust is from. After she died, um. She wanted to be sure me and Sarah were set.” He shrugged, ears turning red as he felt his throat getting tight.

Sophie frowned, feeling him closing off, and leaned closer to hug him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. “You know you can talk to me about this stuff whenever, Rafe? I’d like to hear more about your mom. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She was.” He nodded, settling his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thanks, Soph. This is a really big deal to me, that you’ll go. I know it’s not your scene.”

“Love you.” She murmured. “You’d better buy me a pretty dress.”

He laughed, leaning back just enough to tip up her chin with one finger and kiss her. “You’ll be the best looking one there. I swear.”

“Oh, I already knew that.”

“Okay, okay, big head -”

She swatted his arm, laughing as she ducked out from under him. “Watch it, or I won’t go -”

“I was kidding!” He exclaimed, wrestling with her for a moment before grabbing both her hands and pinning them above her head.

Sophie sucked in a breath, caught off guard. “We are going to be late.”

“We’re already late.” He pointed out, taking a moment to realize the lack of innocence in the position, then slowly smirked. “We could be later. They’re not gonna miss us.”

“Rafe.”

“Sophie.”

“No.”

“You’re positive?”

She just gave him a look, staring him dead in the eyes and willing herself not to react when he leaned down with a grin and kissed the bridge of her nose.

“Please?”

“Fine. The ball or sex right now. You choose.” She raised her eyebrows, arching her back a little on purpose, pressing her hips up against his.

“That’s not fair.” He frowned, immediately shifting his hips away and moving so both his knees were on either side of her instead. “This is blackmail.”

“Your choice.” She reminded him, biting her lip for good measure.

He faltered, sitting back on her thighs and letting go of her wrists. “Soph, it’s - it’s for my mom. I swear. Not for my dad, Rose, anyone else.”

Sophie dropped the teasing act right away, propping herself up on her elbows. “Right, right, sorry. I won’t push it.”

“It’s alright.” He climbed off her, standing, and offered his hands. “Five bucks James makes some joke about us being late because we were having sex.”

“I’m not taking you up on that.” She rolled her eyes, accepting his hand and pulled him into a hug. “Love you long time, Cameron.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you too, favorite girl.”

“What do the dresses look like?”

“Uh...white?” Rafe shrugged, tugging on her hand to get her to follow him downstairs. “I dunno. When we go home for Thanksgiving I’ll book you an appointment to get fitted, I think it’s at some bridal shop on the mainland.”

“Sounds expensive.” She muttered, shaking her head.

“It’s…yeah. It’s not cheap.” He admitted, then shrugged as she followed him out the door, starting their walk toward the bars. “I’ll take care of it though. All of it. By the way, have you booked your flight home for Thanksgiving yet?”

“Um...no. I was going to look this week, it’s probably too late now though.”

“Hm.”

“Hm? Why, are you going home?”

Rafe nodded, not looking her in the eye. “Taking the plane.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“The plane...that no one else will be on...and it’s kinda ridiculous for you to waste money and carbon emissions on a separate flight…” He tried convincing her, a small smile playing on his lips as she rolled her eyes.

“You need to learn how carbon emissions work if you’re going to use that as an argument with me.”

“So that’s a no to sex on the plane?”

Sophie stopped in her tracks, confused. “That wasn’t - Rafe, what?”

“You, me, alone on the plane. Sorry, was I not clear enough?”

“I didn’t even say yes -”

“Oh, so you’re going to leave me all by myself on our one-year anniversary -”

She raised her eyebrows, challenging him. “When’s our anniversary, Rafe?”

He raised his back, stopping on the sidewalk to face her. “On my terms or yours? Because if we’re going with mine, it’s Halloween -”

“No, I had to ask you to be my boyfriend, it’s November 18th -”

“That is such an arbitrary thing, Sophie -”

“Hey! Stop stealing my vocabulary.” She interjected, pushing at his chest. “It’s the 18th, because I had to ask you out.”

“Okay. Whatever story makes you happy.” He shrugged, laughing when she shoved at him again. “Come on the plane with me.”

“...Fine. Only because I don’t want to miss our class reunion party on Wednesday night, I’m pretty sure some people still don’t believe we’re together.”

Rafe laughed loud at that, looping his arm around her shoulders and started walking again. “Pretty sure Topper still thinks it’s all an elaborate lie.”

“Does he know that we nearly hooked up in his room last winter break?”

“No.” He grinned. “Are you forgetting that you had to sprint into his bathroom right when I was about to kiss you because of some tequila thing you had?”

She tilted her head slightly. “You’re remembering wrong. That was sophomore year, before we were dating, I barely drank last year...you almost kissed me?”

“What? No, I think...remember, we were arguing over something, then you whispered in my ear to go up to his room and left. I went up a couple minutes later.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to make a move, Brooklyn and I were together then.”

Sophie scowled at the mention of Brooklyn. “I must have been hammered, I don’t remember any of this.”

“You wanted me.” He smirked, trailing his fingers along her collarbone. “One might say desperate.”

“No, no. All I remember is waking up in Topper’s bed feeling like shit, I had some crewneck on from your academy.” She ignored the blush creeping up her neck.

“How do you think you got there and got the sweatshirt?” He frowned. “I took care of you, Sophie. You really don’t remember?”

“I think I blacked out.” She confessed, shaking her head. “You took care of me?”

“Of course I did. Plus, I thought I was about to get some, I would have done anything for you.” He grinned, laughing when she shoved his shoulder. “Really thought that was the night I’d finally win you over.”

“Yeah, well, you can blame Sarah for her heavy pour that night.” She shook her head, smiling fondly. “I really wish I remembered that.”

“I wish you remembered too. Maybe you would have given me a chance before then instead of setting me up with Julia.”

“I - no! She asked to be set up with you, no, I did not instigate that at all.” She defended herself straightaway, cheeks flushing pink. “She said if I wasn’t going to make a move, then she was going to.”

“Sure. Whatever you believe.” He teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they arrived at the bar. “Hey, Soph.”

She rolled her eyes, going to get in the winding line outside until he tugged her wrist back, pulling her to his chest. “What?”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Sophie softened, smiling as she rose up on her toes to kiss him. “Of course, baby. I’ve got your back.”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46 @outerbankies

[prettylittlebutterflie]

It All Started With A Break

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

Okay, so I have fallen down the rabbit hole known as MariBat and I just can't stop all the ideas I have because of this and decided that enough is enough and I am doing it.

This is my very first fanfic - or any fic actually - but I hope you guys like it and be WARNED that some of you may find some part of this story that's similar with another and that may've been because I really liked the idea when I read it and wanna have a kinda similar thing here and the same goes with some trope of this fanfic in the future, but I'll do my best to keep it unique. I am also new to the DCU, but I'm doing research and planning to binge watch stuff and if you could please help this poor soul find a way to navigate and somehow get an idea on how that universe work (especially abt the batfam), I'll be forever grateful to thy savior.

This fic is canon until S4 Ep 1&2 (Truth & Lie) of MLU and as for the rest, I'll let you guys know.

So yeah, that's all. Enjoy and hope you guys like it. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

P.S. Sorry I kinda ranted, this is my first time actually posting smth so bear with me people

SYNOPSIS

It’s been four years ever since Hawkmoth, who now goes by the name Shadow Moth, began his reign of terror in Paris. Four years worth of akumas that have brought pain and suffering. Four years of no rest in controlling their emotions, afraid of what may come if they were controlled.

After four long years, the Miraculous Team can finally see a ray of light. Everything they have sacrificed for that one goal they all share is finally going to be repaid… Not.

Locating Hawkmoth was easier said than done, and the frustration is finally getting to them. With that, it was decided that they need a break from their hero lives — ok, maybe not. After all, Shadow Moth is proving himself to be a workaholic (like dude, don’t you have anything better to do than destroy everyone’s schedule?) — but anyways, it was clear. THEY. NEED. A. BREAK. Away from Paris. Away from Hawkmoth. Away from the frickin akumas.

So yeah, that’s how it was decided (more like forced) that they are going to America to relax, let loose, and have some fun. After all, who knows, maybe a break is all they need to get things to start getting better — or worse.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

PROLOGUE

“Alright. So, we are going to take a break—”

“For two months.”

“For two months. And because it’s supposed to be a break, that means—”

“No thinking of anything Moth related.”

“No thinking of anything Moth rela— Moth related?”

“You know, Hawkmoth, Red Moth, Shadow Moth, those Moths.”

“Right. Moths. Aside from Moths, it also means—’

“No thinking of akumas.”

“No thinking of akumas. For this entire break, we’re not going to think about—”

“Anything Miraculous related.”

“Anything Miraculous related. Alya, do you really need to do that every time I’m about to say it?”

“It’s because she knows you. We know you. It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, how you always promise not to worry about something, especially anything Miraculous related, just to break it the moment anything related to it comes up. So, yes. She needs to say it and repeat it as much as possible for it to go through that head of yours.”

“Guys, I swear, I’m really going to follow through with this plan. I did agree that we need to unwind ourselves since we’re getting way too stressed and that won’t help us focus on our job.”

“Only after we bugged you about it. Get it? Bugged. Pfft—”

“Hey! Puns are my thing. And you shouldn’t be saying it like that. You’re making it ape-solutely obvious and that makes it not punny anymore”

“Dude, do you really have to do that? That’s so not paw-some. Pfft—”

“All puns aside, it is true that we had to convince you, Mari-hime, to agree on taking a break. Although I rarely take a break from fencing, my Mother and I are aware of the importance of having one and may I also remind you that you were the one who taught us that.”

“And that’s why I told you guys to go have one.”

“But you plus the kitty are the ones who need it the most. Remember what future-me said? About you two always leading us and how she— or rather I am the last one called upon? That means you guys are always gonna work while the rest of us may or may not be needed in some fights.”

“There is a 97.6% probability of you two showing up in fights.”

“Because we have to. It’s our responsibility as the one leading our team.”

“M’lady’s right. Besides, there were only the two of us in the beginning and with all the akumas, we just got used to it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to rest. The music I’m hearing from both of you is filled with the stress you guys have and it doesn’t sound nice. Maybe you two unwinding will help make it more beautiful and even more powerful than before.”

“Fine. We’re all taking a break—”

“Especially you and Adrien.”

“Especially Adrien and I, for a month. Now, does anyone have any ideas on how we're gonna do that?”

“Ooh! Me, me! I have a competition coming up this summer break so I can’t really go anywhere too far since I have some training to do.”

“I’m sticking with the ape. Gotta keep an eye on him if I don’t want him messing up with the timeline. Plus, it’ll be pretty fun beating him up every time he asks for a challenge.”

“Hey!”

“The same goes for me. Someone has to make sure the correct time is recorded with not a single millisecond of it missed. Kwami knows how many times he messes it up whenever he does the recording himself.”

“Okay. So Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris. Are you guys sure that you’ll be able to take a break even if you’re in the city?”

“Yeah, we're fine. And I am totally beating you next time, little bunny.”

“Whatever. There’s nothing wrong with dreaming, y’know.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, I have an internship in America this coming summer. The one at the Daily Planet. I just got the email and I was finally given an invite!”

“Really? Cool! Told you you’ll get it, babe!”

“Yeah! That’s really awesome, Alya! So I’m assuming you'll be accepting that?”

“You got it, girl! I mean, this is the Daily Planet we’re talkin’ about. I’ll learn so much about writing and journalism there, I’ve just got to take it.”

“So Alya’s going to America. Anyone else with plans outside of the country?”

“There will be an upcoming world-class fencing competition this summer and Mother and I have discussed my participation in it. It will be held in the States as well, specifically Gotham, two weeks before the end of the summer break. Maybe you should participate in it as well, Adrien. That way, you’ll have an excuse for your father to leave the country. I’m sure Mother will be happy to convince him as well to let you participate in it. That way, at the very least, I’ll have someone I know who’ll be an actual challenge.”

“Really? That actually sounds great! I’m sure Father would agree if your mother’s the one who suggested it. Thanks Kagami!”

“Okay. Kagami and hopefully Adrien will have a fencing competition in America too.”

“My Dad is having a tour in America right now. He’ll be having the last one at Metropolis during the summer break. He actually wants me to go with him, but I declined. It’ll be great if we all could go there and see it.”

“Dude, that’s so cool! Maybe you’ll even get to perform with your dad on stage. You did make that song with him that reached the record chart’s top. I’ve even made a playlist based on it.”

“Okay then, that makes Alya, Kagami, Adrien, and Luka going to the States. Chloe, do you also have plans to go there this summer? Maman said your mother was thinking of inviting you to be one of the models in an upcoming fashion show there.”

“She did mention something like that, but I wasn’t really paying attention to details once I found out that it’ll be outside of Paris. I’ll discuss it with her again then I can have my much needed vacation in the States.”

“So now that makes five of you going to America. Nino?”

“Well, I don’t really have any plans this summer. Just chill out and relax, y’know, make some playlist, listen to some music.”

“Ooh! How about you come with us, babe? That’ll be so cool and not all of us will be doing something most of the time while we’re there. You can just chill and relax there and maybe you could even study the kind of music they listen to and make a playlist out of it.”

“I would love to go, but I don’t think I really got the money for it. ‘Sides, my parents might not allow me to go out of the country.”

“You’re already 18 and if your parents ever say no, just tell them that you want to really relax, without keeping your emotions in check and have the freedom to let it out. I’m sure they’ll understand and unlike my Father, they actually listen to you.”

“As for the money, I have some savings and if you want I can lend you some-”

“But-”

“Lend. I’m not just giving it to you. You will have to pay me back, alright? And if you try to say no again, I’m going to insist that you don’t pay me anymore.”

“You sure? You're the best! Thanks, Minette.”

“No problem. So now that makes six of them—”

“Seven.”

“What?”

“Seven. We’re including you.”

“Me? But Alya, I already got plans this summer.”

“Plans? What plans?”

“I was planning on working on my commissions this summer an— Guys, can you all stop rolling your eyes on me and no, Chloe. I don’t need you doing it again.”

“Girl! We all agreed that we’re going to take a break this summer. How does doing your commissions sound like a break to you?”

“You all got your own thing to do this summer and mine just happens to be those. Also, the break was for anything Miraculous related. My commissions don't exactly fall under that.”

“Nope. We actually all agreed that for you, commissions should be added to the list of things you get to take a break from.”

“Adrien! I thought you’re supposed to be my partner? So much for the two of us against the world.”

“He is still your partner alright. But also, as someone who truly cares about you, he decided that you really needed a break. And besides girl, this could be your chance!”

“Chance? What chance?”

“Your pen pal! Doesn’t he live in Gotham? You could go and finally meet him. Who knows? Maybe something might happen.”

“Ooh, he’s from there? That’s awesome! You should totally go meet him. Maybe you could even go on a date or two-”

“A date?! Kim, he’s just a frie-”

“You stop right there, Dupain-Cheng! It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! All of us already had enough with Adrikins always calling you ‘just a friend’ when it’s pretty obvious how totally untrue that statement was. We don’t need you ending up just like him, thank you very much.”

“But he really is-”

“Yeah right. If he really is just a friend, then why do you guys stay up all night talking to each other? You always immediately check your phone whenever a notif comes up and you smile like a love-sick fool whenever you read his messages for you. And don’t get me started on the way you gush about him non-stop.”

“There is something beautiful in your music whenever you talk or even think about him.”

“Your smiles are much brighter compared to before the two of you got to know each other.”

“Markov and I also have a record of your heartbeat and we have observed your heart beating faster whenever we talk about this certain topic.”

“And it's been more than a year since you two have become pen pals. The two of you are now so close that it’s a wonder why you guys still haven’t video-called each other just because you insist for your first time seeing each other to be in person.”

“I think it’s rather romantic. They’ll look into each other’s eyes for the first time then BAM! They’re finally together. But I still plan on giving him a shovel talk the first chance I get. Can’t have him break my twin’s heart without him knowing I have the god of destruction on my side.”

“What do you mean shovel talk- I mean, what even gives you the idea that he thinks of me that way for you guys to assume that we’ll end up in… in that kind of relationship?”

“He’d be an idiot if he still hasn’t fallen in love with you.”

“Literally almost everyone I know had a crush on you or have you forgotten already that my boyfriend’s one of those people?”

“I know for a fact that that’s true since I’ve already admitted that one of my reasons why I began bullying you back then was because I had a crush on you.”

“I must admit, I think I also had the same feeling towards you at the beginning of our friendship until I really got to know Luka and you helped us get together.”

“Oh! There’s also that. Do you actually know just how many people you’ve helped get together, buginette? Alya’s even written an article about it at the Ladyblog of how you are also known as Paris’s own cupid and how all of the couples you’ve paired ended up living a happy life together.”

“Everyone’s been saying how Ladybug’s the next best person they can go to if they ever want to find love after Andre.”

“And yet every time you try to pair yourself with someone, the magic just doesn’t seem to work.”

“So we all decided that we’ll be Ladybug’s cupid and pair her up with the boy she just can’t seem to get off of her head.”

“Now, you coming or what? I won’t be taking the money you’ll be lending me if you say no. I’m only going with these dudes if you also come or else I’ll just end up getting bored when there’s no one who can go around the city with me.”

“...”

“““...”””

“Fine. You guys win—”

“““YES!”””

“So here’s the final plan for the break. Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris for Kim’s competition, while the rest of us will be going to America doing our own stuff—”

“With you finally meeting your pen pal.”

“Yes. Alright. I’ll go and meet my pen pal. And during the break, no thinking about anything miraculous related. If ever there’s an akuma, only those who’ll be needed will go. Max will bring us to the akuma’s location and if there is anything going on that we can’t be excused of or if the fight goes longer than expected, Alix will bring us back in time making it look like we just went to the toilets, the usuals. Any questions?”

“““Non.”””

“Good. Operation: Taking a Break is good to go.”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Yay! Finally got to post it. So comments? What do you guys think and who do you think who is saying what? I know there will be new holders in S4, but I decided I’ll either make them a temp or they still don’t know the other’s identities bc of stuff, so yeah. Still thinking abt it. Adios (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

[dwellordream]

“If parents and commentators were sometimes concerned about the safety of middle-class girls in city streets, however, they were increasingly concerned about the moral implications of ‘‘good’’ girls taking to walking the streets in such numbers. Fears of precociousness not only encouraged parents to postpone discussions of menarche, they also created a reactionary challenge— too late—to girls’ social freedoms. European observers had commented on the relative freedom of American girls from the routine restraints imposed on European girls for much of the century.

In his 1840 opus Democracy in America, Alexis de Tocqueville noted the early emancipation of the American young woman from maternal control. ‘‘She has scarcely ceased to be a child when she already thinks for herself, speaks with freedom, and acts on her own impulse. . . . The vices and dangers of society are early revealed to her; as she sees them clearly, she views them without illusion and braves them without fear, for she is full of reliance on her own strength, and her confidence seems to be shared by all around her.’’

With the expansion of northeastern cities following the Civil War, and the increasing presence of middle-class girls unregulated in the streets, a range of commentators began publicly to reconsider that confidence. One of the first broadsides in a newly intensified public debate about the character of ‘‘the girl’’ came from Britain and the pen of a journalist and clergyman’s daughter. Eliza Lynn Linton’s essay was notable in part because of its description of a modern type, not limited to one class.

‘‘The Girl of the Period’’ was published as a pamphlet in Britain in 1868, sold forty thousand copies from a single publisher, and first ignited a controversy there. Linton’s British ‘‘girl’’—in future debates known simply as the ‘‘G.O.P.’’—was loud, brassy, and disrespectful. She had traded in purity and ‘‘delicacy of perception’’ for the slang and the conspicuousness of the demimonde. Linton went on: ‘‘The Girl of the Period is a creature who dyes her hair and paints her face, as the first article of her personal religion—a creature whose sole idea of life is fun; whose sole aim is unbounded luxury; and whose dress is the chief object of such thought and intellect as she possesses.’’ 

Linton’s ‘‘G.O.P.’’ was ‘‘far too fast and flourishing’’ to listen to her parents, ‘‘indifferent’’ to duty, ‘‘useless’’ at home, and dedicated to the pursuit of money. Henry James, who later made the character of the American girl a subject of his fiction, reviewed Linton’s pamphlet in the Nation. He began by denying its relevance to the United States.

‘‘The American reader will be struck by the remoteness and strangeness of the writer’s tone and allusions. He will see that the society which makes these papers even hypothetically—hyperbolically—possible is quite another society from that of New York and Boston. American life, whatever may be said, is still a far simpler process than the domestic system of England.’’ In contrast to Linton’s portrait ‘‘of youthful Jezebels with plastered faces and lascivious eyes,’’ James offered the ‘‘large number of very pretty and, on the whole, very fresh-looking girls’’ of Boston or New York, ‘‘dressed in various degrees of the prevailing fashion.’’

James’s use of the term girl to refer to wholesome and respectable teenage females was an early instance of its contemporary usage. No sooner had James denied any comparison, though, than he began to warm to the task of finding similarities. He found American girls excessively devoted to the idea of being well dressed, which had ‘‘a sacred and absolute meaning.’’

A girl of fashion ‘‘is undeniably a very artificial and composite creature, and doubtless not an especially edifying spectacle. . . . She has, moreover, great composure and impenetrability of aspect. She practices a sort of half-cynical indifference to the beholder (we speak of the extreme cases). Accustomed to walk alone in the streets of a great city, and to be looked at by all sorts of people, she has acquired an unshrinking directness of gaze. She is the least bit hard.’’

James’s novel The Awkward Age (1899) took up the consequences of the ‘‘exposure’’ in public of British girls for their marriage prospects. As much as James admired the independence of ‘‘the American girl’’ (always to be considered as part of American elite), his hypersensitive self was shocked by the toughness of her exterior. Several years later another literary figure entered the debate over the impact of modernity on middle-class American girls.

Louisa May Alcott acknowledged Linton’s influence in the preface to her book An Old-Fashioned Girl (1872), a tale of a simple, affectionate country girl of fourteen who goes to live with a sophisticated and unhappy friend, a fashionable girl of the city. ‘‘The ‘Old-Fashioned Girl’ is not intended as a perfect model, but as a possible improvement upon the Girl of the Period, who seems sorrowfully ignorant or ashamed of the good old fashions which made woman truly beautiful and honored, and through her, render home what it should be,—a happy place, where parents and children, brothers and sisters, learn to love and know and help one another.’’ 

Readers first meet Alcott’s heroine Polly when Tom, the brother of the family, arrives at the train station to pick up his sister’s friend and lights in error on a passenger who might pass for a G.O.P. She is in gorgeous array, with ‘‘a flapping of sashes, scallops, ruffles, curls, and feathers.’’ The passenger, ‘‘a breezy stranger,’’ eyes Tom with a ‘‘cool stare that utterly quenched him.’’

Just as he is gathering his forces to initiate conversation, up runs our heroine, ‘‘a fresh-faced little girl, . . . with her hand out, and a half shy, half-merry look in her blue eyes.’’ Like Little Women, published several years before, An Old-Fashioned Girl celebrates the beauty of girls’ devotion to home and family and their rejection of the material, selfish world of the modern city. A comparison of titles, however, suggests an important difference in the implications of the two books for female adolescence. 

In contrast to Little Women, An Old-Fashioned Girl encourages girls to hold on to their status as children, rather than embracing too early the roles and manners of women. The problem of the urban sisters Fanny and little Maud in Alcott’s novel is their precociousness. Fanny explains to Polly, ‘‘You are fourteen; and we consider ourselves young ladies at that age.’’ Alcott, in contrast, describes Polly as a ‘‘fresh-faced little girl.’’

In fact, the family’s grandmother suggests that her own granddaughters scarcely were ever children. ‘‘’You mustn’t mind my staring, dear,’ said Madam, softly pinching her rosy cheek. ‘I haven’t seen a little girl for so long, it does my old eyes good to look at you.’’’ Her own granddaughters, she explains, are ‘‘not what you call little girls. Fan has been a young lady this two years, and Maud is a spoiled baby.’’ 

Even Maud, at the age of six, has the accoutrements of maturity in the form of calling cards, crimping pins, and a ‘‘box of dainty gloves.’’ Alcott explains that Maud ‘‘belonged to a ‘set’ also; and these mites of five and six had ‘their’ parties, receptions, and promenades, as well as their elders, and the chief idea of their little lives seemed to be to ape the fashionable follies they should have been too innocent to understand.’’ Alcott is so concerned with demonstrating the folly of precociousness that she turns fifteen- or sixteen-year-old Polly’s interest in the attractive son of the family into an object lesson.

‘‘Polly shut her door hard, and felt ready to cry with vexation, that her pleasure should be spoilt by such a silly idea; for, of all the silly freaks of this fast age, that of little people playing at love is about the silliest.’’ Alcott’s fear of precociousness cuts such a wide swathe that she admits little distinction between the pairing off of six-year-olds and the infatuation of teenagers. 

The explanation for the precociousness of girls is their involvement in a new peer culture, facilitated and expanded by attending school. When Polly asks Fanny why she spends so much time getting dressed just to go to school, Fanny responds, ‘‘All the girls do; and it’s proper, for you never know who you may meet. I’m going to walk, after my lessons, so I wish you’d wear your best hat and sack.’’ In Alcott’s novel the custom of walking, encouraged to provide girls with appropriate exercise, appears as a vapid excuse for socializing, especially in contrast with the health of children’s play.

Polly scorns it. ‘‘To dress up and parade certain streets for an hour every day, to stand talking in doorways, or drive out in a fine carriage, was not the sort of exercise she liked. . . . At home, Polly ran and rode, coasted and skated, jumped rope and raked hay, worked in her garden and rowed her boat; so no wonder she longed for something more lively than a daily promenade with a flock of giddy girls.’’ It is the strength of urban peer culture which leads to the unhealthiness and unhappiness—and the unlovableness—of the bored and fashionable Fanny. 

Other commentators as well attacked the danger of precociousness in the rearing of girls. Washington Gladden, liberal clergyman and promoter of the social gospel, was persuaded in 1880 to provide advice for girls in St. Nicholas to complement an earlier article for boys. He censured ‘‘a too early initiation into the excitements and frivolities of what is called society. It was formerly the rule for girls to wait until their school-days were over before they made their appearance in fashionable society. At what age, let us inquire, does the average young lady of our cities now make her debut?’’ Like Alcott, Gladden dipped down into the early years to see the onset of preciousness. ‘‘From my observations, I should answer at about the age of three. They are not older than that when they begin to go to children’s parties, for which they are dressed as elaborately as they would be for a fancy ball.’’ 

If Gladden focused on the social folly of children forced into early maturity, for Mary Virginia Terhune the practice was evil: ‘‘We sin in allowing the fears, hopes and flutters of nubility to obtrude, even in imagination, upon this most susceptible stage of the formative period. There is vulgar violence in the excitation of coy tremors and coquettish projects in the mind of one who is as yet incapable of comprehending the meaning or tendency of the novel emotions.’’

Employing the earthy, agrarian metaphors which were one way of objectifying girls’ maturation, Terhune expounded, ‘‘Premature bloom is imperfection, too often deformity. Forced fruits lack the flavor of the summer’s prime, the beauty and richness of seasonableness.’’ If Henry James felt that girls were becoming hard from their exposure in the city streets, Terhune and others feared that they were becoming blemished or prematurely soft—a different kind of distortion of the ‘‘girl crop’’ that was everyone’s property.

The allure of city streets was only part of the story, though. Critics cautioned that weakening family ties helped to push girls into the streets. In Alcott’s accounting, and in the ongoing debate over the Girl of the Period, the declining authority of parents played an important role in the dissipation of girls. Alcott’s fashionable fictional family is headed by an absent father and an invalid mother.

Mr. Shaw is ‘‘a busy man, so intent on getting rich that he had no time to enjoy what he already possessed.’’ He has a habit of lecturing his son ‘‘and letting the girls do just as they like[].’’ Mrs. Shaw is ‘‘a pale, nervous women,’’ an invalid, defined by needs rather than by her ability to give. The family might meet for dinner, but after eating ‘‘they all [go] about their own affairs.’’ Whatever else was to blame, there was no question that the ‘‘girl problem’’ was in part the problem of urban parents losing control over their daughters. 

When Washington Gladden addressed the problem of girls, he titled his article ‘‘A Talk with Girls and Their Mothers’’ because he felt the problem lay with both. The commandment that children should obey their parents, he asserted, was disregarded by both mothers and teenage daughters. ‘‘The girl of thirteen regards herself as her own mistress; she is already a woman in her own estimation, and has a right to do as she pleases.’’

Despite his strenuous support elsewhere for longer and more vigorous walking for girls, Gladden could not countenance the freedom of girls in the city streets. ‘‘This habit of running loose, of constantly seeking the street for amusement, and even of making chance acquaintances there, is practiced by some of the girls of our good families, and it is not at all pleasant to see them on the public thoroughfares, and to witness their hoydenish ways. . . . The delicate bloom of maiden modesty is soiled by too much familiarity with the public streets of a city, and a kind of boldness is acquired which is not becoming in a woman.’’

Gladden’s worry for the ‘‘delicate bloom of maiden modesty’’ reflected a legitimate concern for how girls’ culture was being influenced by urban freedom. An article published in Ladies’ Home Journal in 1884 took a different tone in reporting on ‘‘an epidemic’’ of disappearances of girls: ‘‘One doesn’t bring up a chubby baby girl to bang upon a grand piano, outdress other girls and graduate with nuns’ veiling and sixteen hired bouquets, to have some dark night bring a rascal and a rope-ladder to steal her away just when she is getting big enough to do the marketing and darn her father’s socks. . . . The sympathy of the entire world goes out to the bereaved owners of these pretty girls, spirited away.’’ Despite its glib and knowing tone, itself a radical break from the earnest, idealist rhetoric which usually accompanied such discussions, the article had a strong message for mothers:

‘‘The fact is, the mothers of to-day do not exercise enough maternal authority and vigilance over their daughters. . . . Female chums call for them to spend the night, and who they meet while absent from the home circle mothers never know.’’ The pull of ‘‘chums’’ drawing girls away from their mothers’ households was a far cry from the idealized intergenerational domestic world promoted by advisers. A signed article republished from the Congregationalist in 1889 explored the distance between domestic ideal and urban reality.

Mrs. J. G. Fraser titled her piece ‘‘Our Lost Girls’’ and subtitled it ‘‘A Mother Sadly Regrets That She Can Not Have the Training of Her Daughter.’’ Fraser exclaimed, ‘‘Alas! just as our daughters are entering their teens, or before, we discover that we have lost them. Where have they gone?’’ Her answer was clear. ‘‘It is a fact that the average girl is restless unless she can visit or receive visits from some young lady friend most of the time.’’ Such chores as a daughter might have ‘‘are hurried through with unseemly haste, to the end that she may leave home as soon as possible.’’ 

Informed by the dictates of domesticity, Fraser knew what her maternal role should be: ‘‘Sympathetic companionship, little seeds of counsel dropped wisely here and there, a knowledge of what the girls are thinking about and what they are interested in; a wise ignoring of some girlish follies—all these are needed.’’ But there was one problem in applying techniques of domestic influence.

If they could help it, girls were probably not at home to listen to their mothers’ advice. Fraser uttered a complaint with a contemporary ring. ‘‘Our homes should not be simply boarding houses where our children eat and sleep, but dwelling places where they are to spend most of their time out of school hours.’’ If they were to sustain the culture of the ‘‘old-fashioned girl,’’ mothers must take their daughters back from the streets and from the friends they promenaded with there. 

Girls who appeared in public and walked the streets were historically ‘‘public women,’’ prostitutes. What distinguished the debates of the 1870s and 1880s was that they were not about prostitutes but instead about a more broadly defined and owned group of daughters. Not distinguished by class or profession, the G.O.P. was not a fallen ‘‘other’’ but instead a creature of modernity, created by the industrial city.

When Henry James, Louisa May Alcott, Ladies’ Home Journal, and St. Nicholas wrote about girls, they were talking about their own daughters, or nieces, or grandchildren, or the daughters of their friends and colleagues. Mrs. J. G. Fraser, of course, most literally seems to have been writing about her daughter. In contrast with later discussions about ‘‘the girl problem,’’ these late-Victorian debates were explicitly not focused on working or shopgirls. Instead, such discussions hit closer to home, often debating the impact of modern culture on Our Girls, as an advice book published in 1871 was entitled.

These girls might even be considered to belong to an urban elite. Louisa May Alcott’s Fanny differs from her country friend because she is a girl of fashion, whose parents can afford to buy her the new offerings of urban dry goods stores. When Kate Tannatt Woods excoriated the rude and showy ‘‘Manners in Public’’ of a certain young concertgoer, she characterized her explicitly: ‘‘Sallie Ducats, whose father is a celebrated statesman, and whose mother bore a grand old name prior to her marriage.’’

The conduct of Sallie (spelled in the French fashion) and her friends sets a bad standard for other girls: ‘‘Their heavy steps and bustling noise disturbed the entire [concert] audience. . . . This was not all. They removed their wraps with much parade and noise, raised their seats and let them fall again, and then, after some further maneuvers, produced some bon-bons which they proceeded to eat with evident relish. During the entire concert they whispered, giggled, looked about, and made comments on people about them.’’ Woods concluded by asking: ‘‘What is to be done when young women belonging to our so-called ‘best families’ are guilty of such conduct?’’

…When pundits debated the status of the American girl, they were not likely to be referring to domestic servants or factory operatives; they were more likely to be referring to American schoolgirls, despite their distinct minority status. The debate over the conduct of the American girl gained an edge of urgency because of the class standing of the girls now out in public. At the same time, that urgency helped to create a more broadly defined and collectively owned group of girls.

If advice givers needed to vouch for the respectability of schoolgirls, however, they could still remain disturbed by some of the after-hour implications of school attendance, especially at the more suspect public schools. The Ladies’ Home Journal’s glib answer to the question ‘‘Why Girls Disappear’’ blamed mothers but indirectly it blamed school, too. ‘‘School-girls here have been seen year in and year out being joined on a certain corner by rakish-looking boys who carried their books.’’ 

Another article in the same magazine the next year lambasted the dangerous influence of the roller-skating rink on schoolgirls as well. Under the title ‘‘Flirting Girls,’’ the writer noted that ‘‘school girls in great numbers frequent these pleasure resorts and emulate each other in picking up the greatest number of gentlemen acquaintances. So large is this class of chance acquaintances, that the girls in our public schools already recognize these men by a slang term, a humorous but pitiful term, when one thinks of the underlying fact. These ‘pick-ups’ are not obtained in the skating rink alone but are made on the sidewalk with a bow, a smile, a word, or in a horse car or at a baseball match or at the theatre.’’ The outcry of concern over the modern girl focused on middle-class girls, and the impact of a range of social developments—school among them—which were breaking down the authority of parents, the strength of the home, and the domination of traditional morality.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Friendship, Fun, and the City Streets.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

[qlala]

pleeease can we have more teacher barry au? or kidfic? my crops are dying

Alright, sorry for the slight delay on this one, but please know that you're a menace and I kept thinking about it and then I wrote this for you all in one sitting.

It's both teacher!Barry (though still set in the canon universe!) and coldflash kidfic. <3 I just put it up as a prequel to "good cop, bad cop" on ao3, since I guess it technically is that? Although, if you guys have opinions about what order the series should be in, I'd interested to hear it!

“Barry?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got something in your hair.”

Barry hid a wry grin, and glanced over at Len—at least, glanced as far in his direction as he could manage. Two small hands were holding his head still, though Henry did let go of one handful of Barry’s hair to reach out when Len stepped around the coffee table and stood in front of them.

“Alright, kid.” Len bent down and hoisted Henry off Barry’s shoulders, and both of them ignored Barry’s indignant yelp when Henry didn’t quite remember to let go of Barry with his other hand in time. “I like the hair too, but he’s gotta move his head to”—Len propped Henry on his hip and reached out to steal the top page from the stack of papers in front of Barry—“grade pop quizzes.”

“Those are midterms.” Barry stretched, then tipped his head to one side with a muffled crack.

“Then you’re going easy on them.” Len took advantage of his distraction to hand the paper to Henry, who scrunched it in his hand with a broad smile.

[read on ao3, or continue reading below the cut]

“Len!” Barry recovered the paper in a sweep of yellow lightning, and Len traced his trajectory from the fading after-image even as Barry tried to smooth out the test on the arm of the couch.

“So feet on the coffee table are allowed when the Flash does it?”

“Language,” Barry reminded him, without looking up.

Henry, ever the trooper, was taking the loss of his prize in stride, and Len rewarded him by bending his knees to let him reach for the next paper in the stack.

“Leonard.”

“He’s working on his reading.”

“He’s eighteen months old.”

Len read the upside-down paper Henry was offering to him. “Another year for whoever’s test this was, they might be at his level.”

Barry got the same ruffled look he always did when he was torn between defending his students and agreeing with every hyperbolic praise Len had for their son. Eventually, he landed on, “You’re not helping.”

“I disagree.” Len accepted the paper from Henry, turned it right-side up, and finished skimming it. “You’ve got a typo in question three. That’s why they’re all putting ‘hydrogen.’”

Barry yanked the exam back, despite having a stack of identical ones on the table in front of him. His eyes went wide as he looked over it at Flash speed, and then he said a word that made Len cover one of Henry’s ears with his free hand and tut.

“You shape the minds of the next generation with that mouth?”

Barry wasn’t listening, too busy dragging his hand down his face, his fingers ending up in an annoyed fist over his mouth.

“Can you please,” he said slowly, evenly, with the couples-shrink-approved, conflict-management voice that always made Len smirk, “give Henry his snack.”

“With pleasure.”

Barry leveled him a glare, but it was without heat, and he tilted his chin up in a clear request for a kiss when Len passed behind the couch again.

Len obliged. He could feel some of the stress drain out of Barry’s shoulders when he drew his fingertips over the edge of Barry’s jaw with the hand not still supporting Henry.

“Hi,” Barry murmured when Len pulled back, at least a full minute later than he’d intended. “Missed you.”

“I was gone an hour.”

Barry’s answering smile was crooked, with an unabashed dimple that Len refrained from tracing his thumb over; he had a reputation to protect. “You know, you could just say it back sometimes.”

“Fine.” Len smirked as he tweaked a cowlick that Henry had left in Barry’s hair. Then he met Barry’s gaze, all false sincerity, and drawled, “Hi.”

Barry rolled his eyes. He couldn’t hide the wry smile even when he turned his head away for a second, though, and he gave Len a playful glare. “You know I meant—“

“Hi!”

For a second, neither of them moved. Then Barry reeled back with something like panic in his eyes, alarmingly contagious, based on the way Len’s heart tripped into fourth gear. “Did he just—“

Len hoisted Henry up to sit on the edge of the couch, and they both stared at him. He ignored them both for a few moments, small hand squishing the cushion before he watched it slowly expand back to its original shape. Then he noticed their eyes on him, and looked up with a beatific smile. “Hi!”

Barry was off the couch in a bolt of lightning, then back a heartbeat later with his phone out, talking so fast he was nearly incomprehensible. “Twice, Joe, I swear, he looked right at us—“

Len got a glimpse of Detective West’s patient expression on the phone screen as Barry waved it toward Henry. “Barr, you said that the last three times. I told you, kids talk when they’re ready. Iris didn’t say a word until she was—“

Barry turned the phone and held the screen out to Henry. Len bit back a reflexive objection; they’d agreed, no screens until he was five (and it’d be eighteen if Len had his way).

Henry reached out for the phone, all Barry’s reckless confidence when confronted with anything new.

Tinny over the speakerphone, West’s voice said, weary but unflaggingly affectionate, “Hi, Henry.”

Barry let Henry have the phone—and that time, Len did shoot him a look—and Henry flattened a tiny palm over West’s face on the screen. Then he tilted his head thoughtfully, lifted his hand, and chirped a delighted, “Hi!”

Barry swept him up with a rush of static that made Henry shriek with laughter, phone forgotten in an instant. Barry deposited them both at Len’s side with a breathless grin, and Len didn’t quite manage to disguise his own smile as a smirk when they looked up at him in unison. West’s voice was still coming from somewhere nearby, but Barry could fish the phone out from between the cushions later. For now, Barry was getting suspiciously bright-eyed, and Len lifted Henry out his arms before Barry could set the kid off crying, too.

“Who had ‘hi?’” he asked. He ruffled Henry’s hair, already overdue for a cut, dark and curling up at the ends. Henry only allowed it a moment before he started to fuss, his snack clearly not forgotten despite the excitement.

“Iris,” Barry hiccuped. He wiped the heel of his hand over both cheeks, then said, “She had ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’ She’s gonna be insufferable.”

“She’s gonna be rich,” Len countered. “Mick put ten grand on ‘Flash.’”

Barry shook his head on a laugh. “You did explain to him that we’re specifically not letting people say that in front of him? Given the whole”—he gestured, with a glimmer of lightning that distracted Henry into a fresh smile—”child’s grasp of a secret identity?”

“And deprive the pool of his ill-gotten gains?” He passed Henry back to Barry and tapped him on the tip of his nose. “Never.”

“She’s just gonna put it in a college fund.”

Len hummed, and didn’t mention the account he’d already placed a quarter mil into at the credit union downtown.

Barry’s eyes narrowed all the same. “What was that?”

“What was what, dear?” Len leaned hard on the pet name, flat and sarcastic, but he knew even before Barry straightened up that it wouldn’t work.

“That ‘hmmm.’ That was an I’m-not-telling-you-something ‘hmmm.’”

Len was saved by the bell, literally.

Someone leaned hard on the buzzer to the front door. A second later—and utterly predictably, given the number of metas in the family Len had married into—Wally West phased through the door, bouncing on his toes and looking around the room before he even finished setting Iris on her feet.

“Joe says Iris won,” he said.

Barry tore his suspicious gaze away from Len to blink over at the new arrivals. “Joe knew about the pool?”

“People on six different earths knew about the pool, Barr,” Iris said. She leaned on Wally as she toed out of her work heels. “Now, give me my favorite nephew. Can you say, ‘journalism school,’ Henry?”

Barry let her scoop Henry out of his arms, his brow still furrowed. “Wait, six different earths? How much was in the pool?”

He sounded a hair indignant, and Len took the opportunity to snake an arm around his waist and pull him back against his chest.

“Say the word,” he murmured against Barry’s ear, smiling when he felt him shiver. “I’ll get you triple by dinner.”

He felt Barry’s heart speed up where his back was pressed against him, and Len nipped the shell of his ear to cement his victory.

“No felonies,” Barry reminded him, but his voice was breathless, and he didn’t disentangle himself from Len’s arms.

“Mm, forgot again,” Len lied. “How about we send Iris and Wally to show Henry’s first word to Joe in person, and I make it up to you?”

A blush was climbing steadily up Barry’s neck, and he’d already shown his hand when he said, “The midterms. Progress reports go out Friday, I have to—“

“Telling me the fastest man alive can’t grade a stack of ninth grade chemistry tests before third period tomorrow?”

“They’re for my AP class,” Barry gasped, and he caught Len’s hand where he’d been tracing his fingers down Barry’s stomach. But he cleared his throat, then said, “Iris? Maybe you wanna bring Henry to the station? It would make Joe’s day.”

Iris gave him a knowing look, but her eyes were warm when she shared her smile with Len. “Mm. I bet it’ll make someone’s day.”

“Singh’s, probably,” Wally said, where he’d been drawing increasingly elaborate flowers of static out of the speed force for Henry’s fickle amusement. Then he glanced up. “Oh. Oh, you meant—yeah. Alright. I’ll grab the diaper bag. And congrats, you guys. On the first word, not the—“

Iris patted his arm and interrupted with, “The station, Wally?”

Wally ducked his head on a nod and gave them both a sheepish grin.

“Make sure your father doesn’t arrest my sister,” Len said. “She’ll show up as soon as she gets the intel out of Cisco.”

“No promises,” Iris said. “But I’ll give him the heads up. Bye, boys.”

The after-image of Wally’s lightning hadn’t even dissipated when Barry dropped his back against Len’s shoulder, one foot tapping rapidly. “Are we bad parents?”

Len nosed at the corner of Barry’s jaw and slid his fingers under the hem of his shirt. “No.”

“Maybe we should—should’ve, uh, reinforced it, more. He might get—confused. He said ‘hi,’ but we—oh my god, did we even say ‘bye?’ Len—“

Len spun Barry and pushed him back against the couch, then kissed him to distract him from looking anxiously at the front door. “You’re overthinking this.”

“I’m overthinking this,” Barry agreed. “No, I’m not. Len, his snack—“

“There are snacks at the station. Joe has a drawer full of Cheerios.”

Barry slid a hand through his hair, gave one last jittery look toward the door, and then slumped back against the couch with a laugh. “You’re better at this than me.”

“Already did it once,” Len said, smoothing the worry out of Barry’s brow with the pad of his thumb. “And look how Lisa turned out.”

It didn’t land the way Len had aimed it to. Barry gave him a warm smile instead of an alarmed look, and Len had to tick his gaze away for a break from the earnestness in that expression.

“Yeah,” Barry said. “Yeah, okay. Now maybe we could, uh, stop saying our family members’ names for a little while?”

Len rolled his eyes, but he allowed Barry a brief smile as he hooked his fingers in the front of his belt. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*

*

[❤️ Link to Ao3 ❤️]

[scathecraw]

BBRae Week 2021 - Day 3: Into The Woods

“Summer camp has been so much fun, Rachel. Teether hasn’t cried once since the day after you dropped us off, and Tommy got first place in the obstacle course. You were right, we should have done a camp last year, too.” Melvin chattered excitedly on the office phone while Rachel listened patiently. “They’ve made a bunch of arts and crafts, and the woods here are so cool. They’re really old, and Gar knows so muchabout all the trees and animals and bugs.”

“And who is this Gar, Melvin? A new friendof yours?” Rachel’s emphasis was obvious, and Melvin’s blush was practically audible.

“NO! He’s a counselor. He’s really nice, but he’s really old. Like, 50 or something. You’ll meet him on parent’s day next week.”

Rachel didn’t remember anyone older than the director, a middle aged woman she had spoken to when getting them enrolled and again during drop-off. She suspected Melvin was fibbing to cover her embarrassment, but she brought it on herself by teasing the preteen. “I’m sure I will. Does this mean that you’re going to drag me out into the forest when I come? I thought it was going to be an afternoon of arts and crafts and then some campfire songs, not a forced march.”

“Duh. Arts and crafts are lame. Gar said that next year he’d show us how to whittle, which sounds better than making lanyards.” There was muffled adolescent shouting, and Melvin covered the receiver and yelled back. “I gotta go. We’re going swimming. I’ll call you on Friday. Love you, bye.” She hung up before anything could be said back, and Rachel was left with dead air while Melvin sprinted after her friends, untied shoelaces flailing behind her.

Arriving at the aforementioned “Parent’s Day”, Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The camp had at first seemed like a good way to get the three adopted children outside instead of rotting their brains, but the sheer noise of a few dozen milling, clamoring kids and groups of socializing parents made her wonder what she had subjected them, and by extension, herself, to. She was late, which probably didn’t help the situation, but she looked around the chaos in an effort to find her own three chaos engines. Instead, she was spotted.

A wild, dirty missile made a high-volume impact with her legs, nearly toppling her and babblingso fast that even Rachel’s practiced ear couldn’t discern what he was saying. She was wobbling and about to fall over when a firm hand caught her upper back and helped her regain her balance. “Teether, dude! I said you could go get her, not try to body slam her.”

Rachel finally planted her feet, acknowledged Teether with a gentle hand on his head, and looked up. And up. They both froze for an instant, but the tanned, blond man recovered first. His slack jaw snapped into a smile, and he said “Hi. You must be Rachel. I’m Gar, one of the counselors here.”

His hand was still on her back and heat radiated from it like afternoon sun. Her face had never fallen into the silly expression his had, but unconscious thought raced before she could regain her composure. ‘Definitely not fifty,’ she thought. “Hello. Yes, I’m Rachel, Teether’s mother.” She peeled Teether from her leg with practiced ease, and he sprang off of her and ran.

Gar realized that his hand still rested behind her, almost possessively, and retreated to a more respectable distance. He chuckled, nervously. “Heh. Um, Melvin and Tommy are with their friends, still, but we should probably get them. Ms. Waller asked me to show you around – she said you had just moved to the area?” It wasn’t a question, but he phrased it like it was. They began walking back towards the milling crowd of parents, children, and quite possibly enough noise to drown out a jet engine.

“Yes, it’s our first summer here. She mentioned that most of the kids made this an annual activity, but I didn’t think we’d be so strange as to warrant a personal detail.”

“Oh it’s nothing like that, it’s just that there’s not really many other summer camps around, and ‘cause we go from K-12, we get pretty much everyone. A lot of the other parents already know everybody. You’re not strange, just… new.” His eyes never left her, even as they began walking.

Back with the crowds, Melvin and a gaggle of similarly aged girls watch the two of them. One of them nodded decisively and turned to Melvin. “Okay. They’re too cute together. Look at how awkward they’re being.”

Anotherhuffed a little. “They’re just staring at each other. They should be holding hands or something, right?”

Melvin’s eyes narrowed critically. “It’s been like 10 minutes and they aren’t kissing yet. Gar’s probably too much of a nerd to do anything. We need to do something to make sure they know how perfect for each other they are.”

“Like what? They aren’t going to start making out in the middle of the crowd.”

An evil smirk crept across Melvin’s face. “Maybe not in the middle of the crowd, but what if they were all alone in the woods? Then they’d have no excuse not to!”

A look of awe crossed her companions’ faces. “That’s evil. I love it.”

But the smirk fell, half-formed plot evaporating. “But how could we get them out there alone? It can’t be anything serious, or else Rachel will ground me forever, and I bet she won’t even go unless we can trick her into it.”

“Could you just tell her you feel sick?”

“No.” Melvin shook her head slowly. “Then she’d either stay with me or just take me home early.”

One, heretofore silent, chimed in. “I think I know what we can do. But Mel, you’re going to have to make a lanyard.” She giggled at the disgusted look, and said “C’mon, we only have like 15 minutes before they start wondering where we are.”

Across the crowd and a million miles away, Garfield and Rachel were, in fact, being tremendously awkward as they watched the kids run and play. Gar fumbled his words and couldn’t decide to stare at her eyes, the curve of her neck, or decidedly anywhere except her. Rachel was the opposite. She answered in short, monosyllabic whispers and swallowed, trying to ease her desperately dry throat.

“So, uh, you said you just moved here! Do you have a job, er, of course you do, unless you don’t! That’s fine, too! Nothing wrong with… that. Yeah.” He trailed off, before gamely trying again. “So what do you do when you’re not, y’know, coming to summer camps?”

Rachel took a deep breath and centered herself. Gar started. “I’m not, like, annoying you, am I? I’m sorry, I tend to blabber -”

“No. I’m just… a little off-kilter. I’m a curator of antiquities at the museum.”

“That is so cool. Gar’s eyes were like dinner plates. “I love the museum! I always wanted to volunteer there, but I never feel like I have time between summers here and planning classes during the year.”

“Oh, you’re a teacher? Grade school or high school?”

“High school and occasionally some classes at the community college. I figured I was already teaching AP and college bio isn’t much different. I’m sure the kids get tired of me after the sixth year, though, heh.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, uncomfortably warm even for a summer afternoon.

“I suppose they wouldn’t let you teach so many years if you weren’t good at the job. Not that biology is my area of expertise.” She clarified, hearing his unspoken question. “I studied history and preservation, so a natural history museum is certainly a big change.”

“Wow, I bet. Still, nobody does what they expected to when they were in college. I got a bachelor’s in Environmental Science, but it turns out most of those jobs are just telling corporations what they want to hear.”

Rachel leveled him with a newly assessing gaze. “Believe it or not, so are quite a few jobs in archaeology. It’s what put me off of the field.”

“But hey, teaching led me to Jump and to Lake Titan Camp, so I can’t complain.”

While the two nominal adults conversed, a far more intricate conversation was happening in the craft cabin. Kole, a pink haired co-conspirator of Melvin’s, was creating a half finished lanyard in pink and purple while the rest strategized. “Okay, so I need to throw her off so she’ll agree. The pink and purple color scheme is good – pink for me, purple for her, but I need something to knock her off her game.”

“You could tell her something that surprised her, maybe. But what?”

Realization dawned. “Okay. This is a little mean, maybe, but I was planning on talking to her about it anyway. I know just what to say. Kole, how’s the lanyard coming?”

“I’ve got it to the perfect length. Just long enough that you might ‘Need a little while to finish it, pretty please.’” She held up the dangling lengths of string. “Everything ready? We’re running out of time.”

“Now or never. Let’s go.” Melvin took a deep breath and led them to the doorway.

Garfield and Rachel were deep in conversation. The initial awkwardness had faded, and while there were still sparks flying whenever they made eye contact, it was more a static buzz than the almost painful live wire sensation of their first glances. At some point they had migrated closer to where Teether and Tommy’s two groups had merged into a supercrowd of children all making noise, forcing them to stand closer to one another to be heard. They were in this huddle, all focus on each other except for both of their frequent check-in glances to the children. Rachel had dipped her toe into a hint of vulnerability to test the waters, quietly and without fanfare explaining that she had adopted all three of them from the same orphanage she had found herself aging out of.

Gar reciprocated. “That’s really incredible. I was adopted pretty young by some family friends. I know how complicated that sort of relationship can be, but it’s doing something amazing for all three of them.”

Melvin, seeing their closeness, hesitated, just a bit. She was messing with fate, a little. But she was certain it was for a good cause. And it was now or never, they were already cutting it close to “Shared Activity Time” for her age group. “Umm. Rachel.”

“Yes, Melvin?” Rachel saw that Mel was nervous. Melvin was never nervous.

“I want to finish a project for you, but won’t have time later. So, uh, I need you to find something else to do. During the Activity Time, I mean. I just want to finish making this. Please, M-mom?”

Time stopped for Rachel. She had adopted them six years ago, and there had never been a time when Melvin had consciously called her “Mom”. Forms asking for “Mother’s Name”, sure. Mother’s day celebrations, absolutely. Even a few mostly-asleep, teary pleas, but never, never while Melvin was in control of her faculties.

But while time had stopped for Rachel, it marched onward for everyone else. Melvin held her breath and waited for long, tense seconds, but Rachel didn’t seem to be coming back to her senses, so she hurriedly spat out “Okayloveyouseeyousoon,” and fled back to the safety of her friends.

Gar, too, was frozen. Not to the same degree, nor for the same reasons, but he felt like he had intruded on something intimate that he had no business being a part of. He looked around, helplessly as Rachel gaped. After several seconds of silence, he couldn’t not do something. “Uhh. Rachel? You… okay?” More frozen immobility. He waved a hand in front of her face. “Rae? You there? Do I need to get a doctor?”

She seized his hand. “Did… did she just call me “Mom”? Or did I have a stroke?”

“Yeah, ouch. She did. I’m guessing this was new?”

“I… Yes. She’s never… What… what do I do? Was she angry I didn’t answer? Where did she go?” Rachel began looking around for her.

“Whoa, slow down. She’s with her friends. She wasn’t mad, it seemed like she was nervous, but not scared. And what you do is let her come to you and talk to her like you always do, and just make sure she knows you’re okay with it. As long as you are okay with it, right?”

“Of course. I just thought...” Rachel trailed off.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about! She loves you and just told you how she feels. That’s a good thing. Let’s give her a chance to do whatever she’s doing. The rest of the kids are about to go do an activity, so we have time.”

“I think I need to get away from the crowd for a minute. I can’t believe I’m asking this, but is it alright if we just go for a walk?”

“Of course.” Gar’s grip had at some point shifted to be holding her hand back, and he led her down a dirt path towards a grove of trees. “This path is quiet and not too hard.” Her sudden harsh look had him follow up. “You’re not really wearing the shoes for hiking, Rae.”

“Hmf. And since when did I say you could call me Rae, Garfield?”

He looked stricken. “I am so sorry. I dunno what I was thinking, Ra-chel. Rachel.”

She narrowed an eye. “Rae is… acceptable, as far as diminutives go. Just don’t make a habit of it in public.”

“Cross my heart. Hey, at least being a little mad at me put your mind off of Melvin, right?”

“And now it’s right back. So very helpful,” she deadpanned.

“Easy come, easy go, right?” His smile grew a little. “I don’t wanna pry or anything, but is it really that surprising? She said you were her mom like, a dozen times during camp.”

“I suppose not. It caught me very off-guard, though. Teether and Tommy sort of switch between Rachel and Mom, but Melvin’s never really seemed like she even wanted that sort of, I don’t know, ‘Official’ title for me.”

“Listen, the whole ‘mom’ thing isn’t as scary as you’re making it out to be. You’re already giving her the kind of love a mom is supposed to, and she loves you. She talks about all the time with stars in her eyes. Being adopted doesn’t make her less your daughter. Rita Farr isn’t any less my mom for taking me in when I was eight, and Marie Logan isn’t any more or less important to me just because she’s not around.”

Rachel took a breath and sighed it out. “Thank you. That does make it easier.” They walked in silence for a short time. “Wait, Rita Farr, as in the movie star? As in, the philanthropist and art collector, married to Steve Dayton?”

He blushed a little. “Whoops, probably shouldn’ta dropped that so casually, I guess. Yeah. Steve and Rita adopted me when my parents died. It’s not always easy, but I love ‘em.” He watched her reaction carefully, hoping she wouldn’t suddenly start treating him differently for having such well-known parents.

Rachel schooled her face after having that bombshell dropped on her. “Well, if we ever meet we’ll be able to talk about some historic pieces she has that I wrote papers on.”

A beat passed, then Gar’s loud laugh broke relative silence of the forest. “Aw man, she is gonna love you.”

And just like that, the tension was broken. All the concern, the lack of balance, everything fell away, and the static buzz of easy conversation punctuated by something just a little too close to intimate for an average friendship was back.

They wandered together down the shady paths, miles away and only a few trees distant from the campground. Rachel didn’t notice the distance she had walked on the formerly dreaded forest hike, and Garfield forgot to try quite so hard with his jokes and wise cracks. They walked, hand in hand and only somewhat realizing how close they were to one another, shoulders nearly touching.

The spell was eventually broken, as they always are. They rounded a final bend, seeing in the distance the campground they had left, what, less than an hour ago? And the reality that they had left behind when they entered the sun-shafted canopies woke them up, and they found that really, their hands were quite slick. Had they been clasped together the whole time? And Rachel, especially, was starting to sweat from the heat and the walk. Garfield was suddenly nervous, after all, he never talked this much, not without making a fool of himself.

But even after emerging from that hazy dream, they held on, gently rising out of the fog and into the real world so no sudden movements could disrupt the memory, the closeness that two almost strangers that fit together like complementary puzzle pieces had shared.

It wasn’t even fully dispelled when their hands slipped apart to be wiped on cargo shorts or dark jeans, though the almost hidden flight from behind a few low-branched trees of blonde hair and untied shoelaces and quiet giggle quickly sobered them.

Garfield turned. “Was that -?”

“Melvin. Oh, that little brat, she is too damn smart for her own good. I would put money on her scheming to get us alone.” Rachel fumed and her face tightened into a mask of cold anger. “I can’t believe that she would manipulate me like this! How could she – How could she finally call me -” and the mask broke, shifting from anger to near tears in seconds.

Gar panicked. “Whoa, hold on, no. She’s not that cruel, I know it and so do you. We’re probably missing something. You just said you can’t believe she would do this – she probably didn’t. Rae I promise you, there’s got to be an explanation that makes sense.”

Rachel took a deep breath, followed by another, centering herself. “I am going to get to the bottom of this. Where would she be doing this “project” she made up?”

“The craft cabin. I’ll take you there, but I guarantee you it’s not as bad as it might sound.”

It was like the crowd parted for them without even reacting. No one looked at the worried counselor or at the steely featured parent, but nonetheless they found their path almost unimpeded. Gar held up a hand just outside the door. “Let me get you two some privacy. Please.”

“Fine. Do it.” Terse and unhappy, Rachel’s displeasure was apparent in her voice, and it made Garfield wince.

He opened the door to see five preteen girls, huddled and tittering. At least until they saw him and his serious frown. Then their eyes went wide, and they looked to Melvin in a panic. “Out, girls. Clear the room. Not you, Melvin.” He stopped her when she tried to take shelter in the middle of the pack. He turned to follow them, and glanced back almost pityingly, then shook his head and exited.

The girls all ducked their heads when they saw Rachel just outside the cabin and hurried off, racing to be the first around the corner and away from the ticking time bomb.

Garfield simply nodded, and left her to it. Rachel entered the cabin and saw Melvin almost trembling, and it broke her heart. She had worked up a head of steam on the walk and the wait, but seeing her precious daughter actually afraid stopped any real anger and left only a bitter emptiness.

Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands. She settled on a vague, open armed shrug gesture. “Why, Mel? Was it just a prank? Just a way to manipulate me?”

Tears brimmed in Melvin’s eyes. “No, I just wanted to give you guys a chance to talk alone. I’m sorry I lied, I really did try on the lanyard, but I’m just bad at them so I had Kole do it. I’m sorry, I am.”

“What? What lanyard? Melvin, I don’t care if you had a friend help with a lanyard! I just can’t believe that you would call me your mom, just to trick me into talking to someone. I can’t tell you how badly that hurts me. I… I love you too much for that.”

“What!No, nononono, Mom, I promise that wasn’t a trick. I promise. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I just – I thought that if I – I thought that maybe if I just did it you’d just let me and maybe you’d talk to him and then it everything would be perfect. I promise. I love you, Mom. I do. And I was just trying to maybe make you not spend all your time watching me and talk to him. He’s really cool, and I could tell you like him, and he’s completely in love with you, and you’re perfect for each other. I was just trying to help you be happy!” She sobbed, breathless.

Rachel froze, then instinctively wrapped her daughter in her arms and let her cry. “Mel, you don’t need to worry about me. I am happy, I promise. I don’t need you to try to trick me into being happy. Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to say I’m not mad, but I get it. You don’t have to trick me into talking to, what did you call him, “really old, like 50 years old” guys? If we talk, we talk. That’s how adults work.”

“No, it’s not! I’ve never seen you go on a date, and you just ignore people when they try to talk to you. I know it was dumb, but I had to try something ‘cause otherwise you’d just give him that serious face until he ran away, and he’s perfect for you if you’d just give him a chance!”

“Mel. Mel, okay. I promise. I will give him a chance. But you don’t need to be worried about me. I don’t need a twelve year old playing matchmaker. You should be doing kid things, not bad romcom plots.”

“*SNRK*. They’re not bad. They’re sweet. And you like them, otherwise you wouldn’t have so many of them.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and glowered.

Rachel internally cursed Kori. “If you say so. Now let’s sit here for a minute, then we can go wash your face and you can go hand out with your friends. And I will have a talk with Garfield, and you will not stick your nose into my dating life. Understand?”

“Yes, mom.”

It still startled Rachel to hear that coming from Melvin, but it also warmed her heart. She hadn’t even known she wanted it until it happened, but it was like a spoken guarantee that she really was doing things right, and her little family really was working.

They sat together and Melvin showed her the lanyard that she had made via Kole. Rachel put it on the silver chain she wore around her neck and let it rest beside her heart promising mostly to herself that it would be kept safe at home. Then, when Mel had calmed down, they headed to the bathroom where Mel cleaned the tear tracks from her dirt-smudged face and rinsed her red rimmed eyes. Rachel gave her a final kiss on the forehead, and sent her off.

Gar found her standing there, staring off into space against the wall of the concrete shack. He leaned against it and slid down to sit around the corner and next to her. “So.”

“So,” she said back.

“Not saying it just to confuse you?” He glanced at her, gauging her reaction.

“No. But she wasn’t against confusing me.”

His eyebrow cocked. “Not mad?”

“Still mad. Still going to be grounded, probably. But she did it out of love.”

“Y’know, I don’t want to say I told you so, but...”

“But you totally want to say ‘I told you so,’” she finished for him.

“Yep. So what now?”

“Now, I guess I do what I was going to do before we had all this to deal with,” she said, the soul of nonchalance.

“What’s that?” he said, and when she didn’t respond, he stood up and looked around the corner. “Rae?”

“This.” with only his head around the corner, she turned and kissed him, gentle and sweet, and far too short for either of them. “I’d like to go out sometime. I want to take you to a behind the scenes at the museum, and I’ll let you choose the restaurant.”

His head spun and his eyes were out of focus. His thoughts were like molasses and he could barely get out the word “Okay.” before she was gone, a little bounce in her step.

AO3 FF.net

[tiredcath]

Zukka Fic Recs

after atla came back into pop culture i found myself falling back in love with zukka which resulted in me reading (almost) every zukka fic on ao3 and here are my favorites

Transference by The_Quatermasters (146k)

In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through. 

Borderlines by The_Quatermasters (73k)

Three years after the war, the work still isn't quite done and the Gaang is scattered across the continents in their efforts to help the world recover. When Aang and Katara pay visit to the Fire Nation where Zuko is Fire Lord and Sokka acts as Ambassador for the Water Tribe, sparks fly between the siblings over Sokka's life choices.

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster (47k)

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

sirens & sleepless nights by Satirrian (54k)

Life can be pretty hard living in a city under a totalitarian regime. Between adhering to the ridiculous curfew, keeping himself from being gunned down by a passing patrolman, and paying his unnecessary tolls to the state for, say, breathing, Sokka has his hands full just getting to work. Add aiding a resistance group on top of that, and Sokka should really be getting paid for this.

Then, one night, Sokka finds an injured patrolman collapsed in the street, who tells him with blood on his lips, “If the patrol finds me, I’m dead.”

 Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (21k)

“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”

“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”

 First by HoneyBadgerMole (20k)

Zuko has been nurturing a crush on the jock in his AP Psych class but he has been too scared to talk to him until they get paired up for a project.

the benefits of getting a flat tire by LesbeanLatte (64k)

Zuko makes an impromptu decision to run away from home after a disturbing conversation with Azula. Unfortunately, some plans are better when they're actually, well, planned. Zuko isn't counting on getting a flat tire almost as soon as he's far enough away from the city to really be in the middle of nowhere.

Sokka is immediately taken with the stranger he and his friends find stranded on the side of the road during an afternoon joy ride. However, he has no idea what he's getting involved with and a kind attempt to help a fellow teen in need turns into a massive coverup for a missing person who just so happens to be the son of the mayor of Ba Sing Se.

Azula was just trying to help her big brother - in her own way - by telling him things she thought he deserved to know. Now the situation has gotten wildly out of control. Did she enjoy seeing Zuko upset and afraid? Of course. Had she intended to endanger his life? Not necessarily, but of course, her idiot brother overreacted to everything and that's what happened and now she doesn't know how to stop the chain of events she's indirectly put in place like dominoes.

Operation Leverage by snowandfire (50k)

Sokka's instincts are onto something great. Zuko just wants to serve tea and brood in peace. Ironically, Toph is the only one who can see what's really going on.

 The Stingray by Smediterranea (24k)

“You’re not carrying me.”

“I don’t mind,” the lifeguard says easily.

“I can just hop over.”

“On sand?”

Zuko will never admit it, but being carried feels pretty nice. The lifeguard sets him down and eyes him warily.

“Are you really all by yourself?” he asks in a worried tone. “No friends in town you can call to check on you?”

“No,” Zuko confirms. Tears are forming again with alarming speed; his foot throbs painfully with every passing second.

“What kind of burrito do you want?”

“You don’t have to —“ Zuko repeats.

“I’m getting al pastor. You like al pastor?”

 AU: Zuko falls for Sokka, the super hot lifeguard who helps him after an unfortunate encounter with a stingray.

 it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan (110k)

Sokka takes a job washing dishes at the new tea shop in town. It's a great gig, until he finds out his only coworker is his old high school bully. Sokka really should quit, but he also really needs to afford rent.

Also, Zuko is kind of hot now.

 People like to think war means something by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once (21k)

Sokka was the first to leave.

Somehow that hurt the most. . . . Not long after Zuko becomes Firelord, forces gather in the South and next thing he knows he's thrown into a civil war with almost no one by his side. Maybe healing is longer and more complicated than it needs to be, but with the right people by your side it is always possible.

 a way that will destroy you by anothermistakemade (14k)

In the wake of Ozai's death, Zuko begins to fall apart. Sokka will do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen.

-

or, zuko might be losing his mind, but he also might just be really sad & traumatized

 Those Who Favor Fire by CSHfic, VSfic (30k)

After a failed attempt on his life, Sokka fakes his death, dons a disguise, and infiltrates the would-be assassin's ranks in an attempt to bring them down from the inside.

Zuko learns of his husband's tragic death, mourns, and vows revenge.

 Words Mean More at Night by DaisytheDoodleDog (28k)

Even ten years after the end of the war, rebellions rise and risk the balance of the nations. Sokka was willing to do anything to protect his people, which is perhaps why he's leading an army against the rebellion, attacking only as a last result. But Sokka's unwinding, it's taking a toll on him, and the only thing keeping him grounded are the letter Zuko and him exchange late in the night when no one can see the messenger hawks. But as they say, nothing's fair in love and war.

another word for wanting by eurydicees (23k)

Sokka begins to dream of his soulmate when he's eleven years old, and it just gets harder from there. Or, 125 moments soulmates share, and none of them come easy.

(In which your dreams are your soulmate's memories, and Sokka dreams of an all-consuming fire, growing and eating at his soulmate until it burns up the connection between their souls. In which they find love anyways.)

 It Has Only Just Begun by Kirazalea (39k)

There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring

Zuko had now chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war. By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.

But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure). The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it). Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy). It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.

But he was determined to push forward anyways. He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2

 Nightmares and Reveries by HisMomoness (20k)

Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.

Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.

 The One Who Stopped Time by ohhihoney (66k)

All hope was lost to Zuko until one day, his uncle asked a random person at the Jasmine Dragon to tutor his nephew. Gritting his teeth and embarrassed beyond the point of no return, Zuko gave the blue eyed boy his number.

Little did Zuko know how much Sokka would change his world.

 Rubbed Off Stars by ohhihoney (2k)

Sokka wasn't going to just sit and watch the boy at the back of the bus cry while trying to rub off pride flags off his cheeks.

--------------

WIP

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (168k)

After that fateful Agni Kai, Ozai makes a different call. Branded as a traitor and banished to a prison camp, Zuko learns how cruel the Fire Nation can be to its citizens. Three years, a water tribe raid, and an unexpected meeting with a gang of over-enthusiastic idealistic children puts Zuko back in the spotlight. The revolution is coming and it wants another poster boy, but Zuko is not willing to lend his face to the cause.

 Another Brother by AvocadoLove (312k)

It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.

--------------

BONUS : zuko x jet

Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery (122k)

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

[veiledsilver]

Top five moments you've felt like the universe was messing with you.

Oh boy everyone get ready this is a long list. In descending order, from mildly funny looking back on it to "oh god oh shit oh fuck":

5. Catfishing: College Edition

In 6th grade, I decided to apply to colleges early to see how they were like. I was scared that if they knew I was too young, they'd arrest me. So I created a gmail account as my persona, a white 12th grader named Emilie Alexander. Emilie was planning to go into nursing, dating a high school linebacker named Kyle Kenderson, and deathly allergic to bee stings. If she even came near a bee, she would die.

This part was of the utmost importance.

See, I was constantly paranoid that one day, the jig would be up- I might forget that my fake last name was Alexander. Or the college dean might come knocking at my door and tear up my home in his mad search for Emilie. If that happened I would fake her tragic death, presumably caused by one big fucking bee.

I secretly collected my information. What nearby states were the prettiest to visit. Which colleges were the safest and most affordable. How often they held courses that I liked. In my emails with colleges I tried to sound as mature and professional as possible.

Then, one day, a college member asked me what high school I was in, so they could check my records.

My blood froze.

It was time to bring out the bee.

In response to their question, I sent an email that was like this:

"Dear Mr. McLaughlin, I was a proud graduate of- ugh! Ah! Kyaaaa! Uwaa! W-w-what's this... huge goddamn bee doing here?! Eek, pardon my foul language! It's just that, as I told you earlier, being stung by a bee would kill me.... and now it's stung me thrice (three times)!!

What do I do?! I can't die... I've always wanted to attend your beautiful college...

But this is... the end...

Mr. McLaughlin...

*looks at you sadly*

Tell... my mother... I loved her...

*dies*"

He never responded, probably because he was rendered speechless, but I never touched that account again.

My private gmail for fun stuff like tumblr still has "Alexander" as a surname, though.

4. Wild and Authentic

Alright. Alright. So. My art teacher in middle school.

Right off the bat, they endeared themselves to the tumblr art kids- they proudly used they/them pronouns, dyed their hair vibrant colors, deeply encouraged OC creation, and was chill with any art style even if it was anime. Mx. Mason was very cool, except for one thing.

We had complete artistic freedom when it came to their assignments, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING.

Drumroll, please.

Take a deep breath if you must.

Ready?

...

Cats had to have extremely distinct whisker pores.

YES, they believed that modern depictions of cats were too streamlined. Too... idealized. As a cat owner themselves, they were convinced that society's vision of cats did not do their feral feline ancestors justice. In making their faces flawlessly smooth-furred, we were stripping the cat of its true nature.

I found this out the hard way, when I was drawing warrior cats fanart for class (it was of Firestar cuddled in the arms of an orange haired anime catgirl who was his reincarnation in my first ever comic series, Warriors Neko Desu! ♡ Heart Academy Dokidoki).

Mx. Mason came over to look at my magnum opus, and I expected them to have their socks knocked off at my artistic talent. They lifted up my drawing for all to see, and I smugly leaned back in my seat.

Only for them to launch into a passionate lecture about how, in neglecting to draw whisker pores on cats, I was DENYING THIS FICTIONAL CAT OF ITS WILD AUTHENTIC SELF.

My friends absolutely lost it when I told them this story, and there was a period of time when all our discord nicknames were wild and authentic too.

As for Firestar and his counterpart Hoshineko Orenji-chan, I never did give them wild authentic whisker holes, but that's to be expected of a kittypet, I guess.

3. Stan Jungkook Or Whatever

A couple years ago, my family and I flew to Seoul, South Korea, to visit our relatives and teach me more about my heritage. It was very nice! I got to visit shrines and festivals and palaces, and I was in awe that this was what my ancestors had once seen in their daily lives.

Then, when we went to the modern side of Korea, I realized just how much I didn't fit in.

It was clear that I didn't know how to act, or how to speak Korean, and I spent my days fumbling around and getting scammed multiple times by salesmen. But I clowned myself the most... during an interactive event with kpop stars.

They had this experimental event where holograms of the boys would sing onstage and dance in place of the actual idols. Before the show began, girls could stand in booths that scanned their appearances, and holograms of THEM could dance onstage with the hologram boys.

I didn't know this.

When Cousin Ae-cha told me to step inside one of the machines, I thought I'd be hilarious and stand backwards, so it would scan the back of me instead of my front. As I walked out, I saw other girls putting on their best makeup, cutest clothes, and most expensive accessories, and I slowly realized that I was in danger.

But the danger didn't come until halfway through the concert, where the boys looked eagerly off-stage and a holy staircase appeared and all the hologram girls descended from heaven. There were cherry blossoms. There were roses. There was me, among the crowd of beautiful airbrushed girls, walking backwards.

I felt the judgemental gazes of twenty girls and their mothers.

Each boy danced with a girl, who got a cute animated moment with special effects, and sang about how they found a dream girl to have a true love romance with. Finally, all the girls vanished except one, and it was me.

One of the boys didn't dance with any girls, and now he was all alone in the rain, feeling dejected that HE did not find his true love girl to have a dream romance with. Then the rain stopped, the sun came out, and I emerged. Still backwards.

He was thrilled and sang about how my face (that he didn't see) stole his heart, and now everyone in the audience was giggling, and he slowly brought me very close to kiss me... but because I was backwards, his nose was cutely nuzzling my hair.

The audience members- at least the adults- were now laughing their asses off. His lips met the back of my head, and together we vanished into the wind.

I'd say I couldn't show my face there ever again, but I never did show my face, so... hm...

2. Horrid Little Temptress

If I wasn't a minor, I'd need a drink before starting this story. Sadly, I cannot drown my sorrows- and neither should you after you hear this, because it's only fair.

Mrs. Appleby was my Spanish teacher in like, 9th grade. Even the wild and authentic art teacher thought she was insane. Appleby forced kids to brew tea for her and yelled at them when they didn't get it right, and I thought she had a chronic squint until I realised she just did that to mock me and my Asian eye-folds. She forced us to watch Dora the Explorer to "absorb knowledge." Everyone fucking hated Mrs. Appleby.

But the worst thing she ever did... was during the school festival.

See, whenever she's angry, she zooms right into kids' faces to scream at them. Her wrinkled flesh would blot out the goddamn sun and all you see are her bloodshot yellow eyeballs so victims just stayed rooted to the spot like cornered animals or something similar. This is important.

Because when she was sampling her own brownies (read: hoarding them so no one else could eat them), one parent foolishly decided to grab one and she thought it was a student and she grabbed his wrist so hard she could've nearly snapped it and... and... zoomed into his face.

Except she underestimated his height and kissed him by accident, but it was more like her mouth was sucking in his face like a vacuum.

His wife was shrieking like an ape. His kid, my classmate, saw his social life flash before his eyes.

In her defense, she did not mouth to mouth with him on purpose and afterwards she cried in the bathroom and when I foolishly followed her in to comfort her, because I am a teacher's pet through and through, she snatched the paper towels I got for her and wailed that she was a-

A-

HORRID LITTLE TEMPTRESS.

If I had decided to not be kind, I never would've heard that string of fucking words. But I did. And I paid for it dearly. The end.

1. Violence IS The Answer, Sometimes

Thomas, my dearly detested.

Back in sixth grade, I used to have a crush on him because he had the surfer boy look with nicely tanned skin and pale blond hair and the clearest aquamarine eyes I've ever seen. He also liked surfing and swimming. He seemed like the perfect little trophy waifu except for one absolute dealbreaker.

He and his parents were extremely conservative and so, when I told him I liked him, his response was basically "haha no you're a [slur] and would probably eat my dog."

I was horrified and ran away to cry. But then, by the next day, I decided I needed to punish him. Thomas walked in before class started and I was waiting for him with these hands. I kicked him so he doubled over, slammed his face into his chair's seat, and quickly clambered on top of him to SIT ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. He started shaking and twitching and trying to pry me off, but eventually he went limp and stopped moving.

I thought he fell asleep, but Mohammed, another classmate who was bullied by Thomas, told me that Thomas might never wake up again (not that he was very sad about this. I didn't know until later, but Thomas said slurs at him too).

While I was sitting on the guy, he'd straight up passed out from the lack of oxygen.

Screaming and crying, I told our homeroom teacher that Thomas suddenly fainted, and she was the type of Caucasian that thought all little Asian kids were sweet and innocent, so it didn't even cross her mind that? It might've been me? Who sat on his head when she walked in?

He was sent home early that day. I had to go to a different school next year because Thomas's mom threatened legal action. The only reason I didn't get punished further was because my rich cousins out-Karen'd her and donated a huge amount of money to the school to keep them quiet.

Anyway, I never did anything that insane ever again, because something like that is enough for a lifetime. My cousins made it clear they would never back me up again. I was sure this whole event would be put behind me, too.

But last fall, during my first day of online learning... who did I see in my zoom meeting... BUT THOMAS! I had my mic and camera off, but the moment he saw my name, his face went pale. His soul would've left his body, but then it would've gone to hell, so it wisely decided to stay inside.

Still, out of shame and embarrassment, I never turned my camera on for the rest of the school year.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Godzilla vs. Kong

From the first rumble in the seats in the Dolby theater, I was so glad I chose to see this movie on the big screen. At times it felt like I was on one of those “4-D” roller coasters where the seats rumble and they spray water on your or pipe smells into the audience. That’s how close I was to the action! As at least a casual fan of the previous entries in the Monsterverse, I was looking forward to Godzilla vs Kong and my goodness, those medium expectations sure were met. How medium was it? Well...

I would like the science in this movie to win Best Comedy or Musical in next year’s Golden Globes. This is probably the hardest I’ve laughed in a theater in over a year (obviously there are other reasons for that, but the sentiment still stands). This movie was nonsensical, loud, shiny, dumb fun and I had a great fucking time watching it. Oh, you probably want a plot summary - I’m just gonna refer you to the title of the film. That about covers all you need to know.

Some thoughts:

“Somewhere on Skull Island” - whaaaaat is with this title card? It’s a tiny island. How many possible locations could there possibly be for a giant fuck-off ape to be taking his nap?

I know we’re not here for any semblance of plot but boy, they really sprained something trying to lift these clunky paragraphs of exposition into anything resembling what actual humans would say.

These opening credits are one of the funniest sequences I’ve seen in ages.

My main man Brian Tyree Henry! I had no idea he was in this (frankly I knew virtually nothing about this movie because what do you even need to know about a movie with the title Godzilla vs. Kong). He’s playing a completely different vibe than I’ve ever seen him play - the comedic relief and a mile-a-minute vaguely conspiracy theorist podcast host who is obsessed with Sir Zilla and the other Titans. I really enjoyed seeing this other side of him!

Absolutely terrible waste of Kyle Chandler, who was probably paid more than my yearly salary for 60 seconds of Protective and Frazzled Dad perfection.

One of the highlights of the film is the performance of young actress Kaylee Hottle as Jia. Jia is Deaf, and so is Kaylee in real life, and I’m always here for more Deaf representation onscreen! And her friendship with Kong is one of the few things in the movie that elicits any genuine emotion of any kind. When he booped her I literally said “Aw!” out loud.

The visuals of the hollow Earth are very cool and remind me of those space age desktop backgrounds that most of the guys I know who built their own PCs and spent a lot of time on Tor.com would have had.

Even the most ridiculous films like this one will sometimes include little bits of worldbuilding that are thoughtful and have fascinating implications. For example, the “Titan Shelters” in Hong Kong - who pays for those? The government? Do rich people have reinforced private Titan Shelters while poor folks have to rely on the public ones, which are likely overcrowded and possibly don’t have enough resources? (I think we all know the answer to that).

I am very much enjoying all the neon in the Hong Kong fight, and how much more visually interesting it makes two giant blobs slamming their blob bodies against each other while causing a staggering amount of property damage.

Finally a realistic “I can crack the password!” scene!

Did I Cry? Ok, a teeny tiny bit, about Kong and Jia’s friendship.

Times I laughed LOUDLY in the theater: when Mr. Zilla, who can literally shoot lightning out of his damn mouth just straight up punches Kong in the face. When Kong gets attacked by all those lizard things in the hollow Earth and just uses one motherfucker to slap another motherfucker. When they use an anti-gravity machine (whatever that actually means) as a defibrillator for an ape that is sometimes as big as a skyscraper and other times as big as a mountain.

And now a series of questions:

Why is this high school class just watching the news in the middle of the day? The G-Z has attacked cities at least 3 other times in this universe that we know of. Like, this isn’t their 9/11, this is a thing that just regularly happens.

You decided it was a good idea to transport Kong over the ocean...where Big Daddy G hangs out all the time? Like...that’s where he lives, you guys. You’re basically trying to sneak Kong over the roof of Godzilla’s house and hoping he doesn’t notice.

OH and you had a Kong-sized net and a team of Kong transport helicopters ready the WHOLE TIME? But you still chose “sneaking over Godzilla’s house” as your first plan of action????

How long can Kong hold his breath? He goes underwater for some long ass periods.

In fact, what are the details of Kong’s physiology in general? How tall is he? Because at one point in his fight with The GZA, he’s standing on the floor of the Tasman Sea, no big deal - except the Tasman Sea has a depth of roughly 18,000 feet. And Kong’s just chilling out in the water at waist level? But he’s also shorter than the skyscrapers in Hong Kong? I choose to believe he can grow and shrink at will because that makes more sense than the sloppy joe approach to his biology the screenwriters are using.

I like Millie Bobby Brown as much as the next guy, but does it bother anyone else that she always sounds congested? Is that a consequence of her doing her American accent? It’s incredibly distracting.

Oh, this entire scene is set in Antarctica but no one is wearing hats or gloves? Sure sure sure.

And no one is having any problems breathing the air in the middle of the fucking earth? No one thought to check that the atmosphere was breathable before everyone takes off their helmets? No noxious fumes to worry about in the center of a planet that produces magma and shit?

You’re taking your child to the literal center of the earth? Is this not the ONE TIME you think you might need a babysitter?

The ship that can *checks notes* withstand the forces present during an entire reversal of gravity is crushed by Kong’s fist like it’s a tube of toothpaste?

Even though the Earth is hollow, I’m assuming the distance to reach the core is still about the same, so Godzilla’s lighting can 1) act as a drill to - I cannot reiterate this strongly enough - the CENTER OF THE FUCKING EARTH and 2) Godzilla and Kong can yell at each other for 3,958 miles (give or take) and still hear each other? Do they have superhearing? Is this something we’re studying or are we content to just have them Hulk smash all of that incredibly important evolutionary biology to bits while everyone stands around?

Because this is a “vs” movie, of course there is no clear-cut “winner” at the end. Instead the two parties leave each other with a grudging respect formed, an uneasy truce in place. But I’m obsessed with the way this final scene plays out, as though Godzilla is a bitter ex walking away from Kong after their doomed relationship has run its course. The lighting, the soft music, the absolute melodrama of this giant lizard slinking slowly back into the sea. Godzilla is giving the gays everything they want in 2k21 and I am here for it. Here’s hoping the next entry in the franchise has Kong hooking up with Rodan to make G jealous and they all have a messy public fight over brunch, Real Housewives style.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[omg-just-peachy]

pure of heart, dumb of ass

for a double bingo on my @tonystarkbingo card (#3049)! Square T2 (AU: Teachers). Mr. Stark thinks pretending to hate his fellow teacher, Mr. Rogers is a smart way to keep their relationship under wraps. What he didn’t account for was Peter Parker.

(~900w, fluff, secret relationship shenanigans in a high school setting)

*

Tony watches as the last of his Science Club kids pack their bags and head for the door, looking surreptitiously down at a text from Steve. 

Time to go? Want to stop at Ralph’s on the way home? I could use a drink.

Tony smiles as he answers: 5 minutes, hot stuff, then I’m all yours.

“Hey, Mr. Stark, do you have a minute?” 

Peter is standing in front of Tony’s desk, and he slides the phone down and out of sight in one smooth motion. The last thing he needs is the kids getting wind of his relationship with Steve. After breaking off a well-known engagement two years ago, Tony knows all too well what it means to have students (and their parents, and other faculty…) invested in your personal life, and it’s not a history he’s looking to repeat. Definitely not with another teacher, and certainly not one like Steve Rogers, beloved English teacher to the high school masses. 

Tony was pretty sure the kids wrote him poetry. Bad poetry, but still, they adored him. And, more importantly, they somehow got it in their heads that Steve and Tony were mortal enemies. Or, at the very least, rival teachers, apparently due to the fact that Tony led Science Club and Steve ran the school newspaper. The logic was flimsy at best, but Tony hadn’t bothered to correct them, despite Steve’s clucking. (I don’t want to act like I hate you, Tony! Why do we have to pretend anything at all?) 

“For you, Mr. Parker, of course. What’s up, kid?” He shouldn’t have favorites, Tony knows this. And outwardly, he doesn’t. But Peter Parker has been in Science Club since his freshman year, and in Tony’s AP class for two years running, and he’s not just brilliant, but he always has a kind word for everyone else. Tony was writing him a glowing recommendation letter, though he can’t say he’s looking forward to the emptiness Peter will leave behind when he graduates. 

“What do you think about Mr. Rogers?” Peter asks, like he’s about to propose something truly life changing. 

Tony forces himself to swallow. “I—what?”

“I know, you hate him, right? But some of the guys were saying they think you’re dating him. I said no way, but they insisted. So I had to come over here and set the record straight.”

“Why would they think we’re dating, exactly?” Tony can’t help himself, he has to know. Kids are perceptive, sure, but they’re also notoriously self-obsessed. How on earth had they picked up on it? 

Peter’s face flushes. “Uh...you know…” He trails off, clearly regretting his choice to broach the subject.

“I really don’t. I thought you were here to enlighten me.” Tony lifts an eyebrow, does his best Serious Teacher Face, and waits. 

“Sex...uh…” Peter clears his throat. “Sexual tension?” He takes a step backwards, face aflame. “Actually, you know what Mr. Stark, they’re probably wrong, I just thought it would be funny, y’know, your reaction, but uh…”

Tony sinks down into his desk chair, torn between putting Peter out of his misery, and disbelief that the cat was out of the bag. 

“Actually, MJ told me I was an idiot to come up here. I mean, she says that about most things I do, so.” 

Tony laughs, thank god for MJ. “She’s not wrong.”

“...She thinks Mr. Barnes is more your type anyway,” Peter continues, then slaps a hand over his mouth. “I mean, no. She didn’t—”

“Kid. Take a breath, alright? Here’s what we’re gonna do. You have a bus to catch, am I right? I have to go home and eat dinner and grade your tests, and we’re both going to pretend this never happened. Tell MJ and everyone else, no more speculating about my romantic life, got it? I haven’t turned in your recommendation letter yet. You might still end up somewhere terrible like Brown. Or worse, Harvard.”

“Those are still Ivy League schools,” Peter says, indignant. They both know, though, that his sights are set on MIT, Tony’s own alma mater. 

“But they’re not MIT.”

“Pretty sure you’re supposed to support my future no matter what.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to ambush me after school about my personal life,” Tony counters.

“That’s fair. And hey, Mr. Stark, I really am sorry—”

But just then, Steve’s beautiful blond head makes its way around the doorframe, totally oblivious to the fact that Peter is still there. It’s been well over the five minutes Tony promised, so it’s no wonder Steve had come looking for him.

“Hey, sweetheart, the coast is clear… Oh! Peter. Hi, I was just…” Steve’s frantic, his face going pink and mortified, eyes darting to Tony, begging for help. 

Tony just laughs, because really, what can they do to recover? Poor Peter looks like he could be knocked over with a feather. 

“It’s okay,” Tony says. “We were all just leaving, right?” Steve and Peter just stare at him, incredulous. 

But really, what was there to be done? Peter’s a good kid, he isn’t likely to spread their secret. He’d come to Tony to stop the spread of gossip, technically.  And even if he did tell someone, Tony thinks, looking over at Steve, maybe it is time to stop hiding.

“Sorry again, Mr. Stark. And, Mr. Rogers, I’m just gonna—” Peter all but runs from the room, leaving Tony and Steve alone. Tony winds an arm around Steve’s waist as they walk to the door, Steve still stunned into silence. 

“What just happened?”

Tony leans into Steve’s side, flicking the lights off as they pass. “I’ll tell you over that drink.”

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Logan's Birthday (1/7)

-------------------------

Logan was a smart man, he always had been, top of his class since he was little. But being smart only got you so far, there always came a time when you just werent smart enough.

For Logan, that time was adulthood. So many years worth of studying, gone at the slightest notion that someone else was- better. And of course, Logan knew exactly what made his competitors better, but saying it out loud, that was paramount to insulting the company.

So here he was, twenty-two years of age and stuck in an apartment, sifting through job applications and bills, as if he'd ever have enough to pay them off.

"Oh yes Logan go on take only honors and AP classes for the rest of your life, I'm sure it'll all turn out fine," Logan muttered bitterly.

He let out a groan of annoyance as the tv flickered through one of his least favorite commercials.

He'd always despised fashion and makeup companies, but the Kingsley company was another story on it's own. He couldnt explain it, for all he knew it was some odd combination of self hatred and toxic societal expectations, he just couldn't stand those twins, with their overly wide smiles and stupid overzealous compliments. But of course, most other people bought it. So Logan always assumed there was something wrong with him.

Eventually Logan finished with the papers, setting them aside and walking to the kitchen.

"Like anyone would pay thirty bucks for a makeup set that's going to fall apart two days afterward," Logan muttered, glaring at the tv. He walked over to the coffee machine and got started on his fourth cup for that day. It wasnt healthy, Logan knew that, he'd done an entire report on it in sixth grade, but it was the only way he could seem to stay up without having a breakdown.

Logan looked over at his to-do list for that day, he never seemed to finish them, so he had no idea why he bothered. He checked off the section labelled "bills and applications" before walking back to the coffee machine and picking up the mug. He watched the sunrise outside the window, he always liked sunrises more in the colder months, they were much brighter.

Logan finished his coffee and set the cup in the sink, checking his watch. His mother had set up a job interview for him, but all she'd given him was an address and a time, he certainly didnt want to be late. He walked to his closet and pulled out a blue sweater, black vest, black pants, and dress shoes.

"5629, Ridgeport Avenue, should be interesting," Logan muttered as he fixed his tie. He'd never exactly liked Ridgeport, it was a rich people and idiots thinking they could make it big on stupid ideas.

But what awaited Logan when he reached the location was far worse than what he was expecting.

"Mother I told you I dont want anything to do with this company!" Logan hissed over the phone, currently hiding out in the bathroom, he may have hated the Kingsley company, but he wasmt stupid enough to insult them where someone might hear.

"Its good pay! You can suck up your pride for once in your life cant you?" His mother replied.

"Me, a secretary for those- those-" Logan couldnt seem to find the right words for it, all he cod think was 'Ew' and 'Not in a million years'.

"I'll call you back after the interview," Logan said, hanging up and stuffing the phone back in his pocket. He fixed his hair in the mirror before rushing back out, after all, he did have a meeting in thirty minutes.

"Logan Sanders," The intercom sounded, the voice of Remus Kingsley flooded the room. Logan felt his stomach lurch as he stood up. He trudged down the hall, fiddling with his tie. He finally reached the door to Remus' office, and knocked twice.

"I'm not naked if that's what you're thinking," Logan held back the urge to vomit as he processed the sentence, and then he opened the door.

Remus Kingsley was a tall man, with a white striped birthmark in his hair, and a mustache that gave him the impression of a man who'd gorged himself on mud. His clothes didnt help much, a ripped jacket paired with a green shirt and twice as torn black jeans, his feet were even propped up on the desk for gods sakes.

"I'm here for the secretary position," Logan said as he closed the door.

"Well secretaries arent supposed to stand are they?" Remus said, moving his feet and gesturing toward the chair in front of the desk. Logan took a seat and finally let go of his tie.

"So what sparked your interest in the position?" Remus said, very obviously reading off notecards.

Logan bit back the urge to say 'brute force and a ransom note'.

"I've seen a lot of your commercials, the name was recognizable," Logan said.

"Oh so you've heard of us?" Remus said, now checking his nails. Logan was getting more annoyed by the minute.

"Yes, I have," Logan replied, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from growling.

"Great! You're hired! You can start tomorrow," Remus said with a grin, Logan noticed he was missing one of his front teeth. He slid a sheet of paper across the desk, Logan looked it over and pocketed it before getting up.

"Very well, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow," Logan said as he walked out.

"I could get used to seeing that face every day," Remus said, Logan felt his face heat up slightly, though he could scarcely tell if it was from rage, or from something else. He merely nodded and closed the door behind him on his way out, rushing through the lobby and out into the streets of Ridgeport.

"This is it- my life is over, this is how I die," Logan had decided to meet up for coffee with his friend Remy, and the conversation had turned very quickly to Remus' comment at the end of the meeting.

"I mean it could be worse, at least you're both in the same age-range," Remy replied, taking a sip from his iced coffee.

"I dont know how you're drinking that when its 27 degrees out," Logan said with a laugh.

"Nothing will ever be as cold as my heart," Remy said, grinning.

"Oh? Cold-hearted are we? Then please, do tell me where all those photos of Emile huddled up under your arm with his head buried in your chest came from,"Logan said sarcastically.

"Oh Em, the only person warm enough to melt my poor icy cold heart," Remy said, bringing a hand to his forehead and falling back slightly.

"Gods you're so cheesy," Logan said, rolling his eyes.

"You're just mad because you dont have a queerplatonic partner to give you forehead kisses every night before you go to sleep," Remy said.

"I dont need a partner of any kind, I'm fine on my own," Logan replied.

"Sure you are bud, sure you are," Remy said.

And that stuck with Logan the rest of the week. He had a lot more interactions with Remus than he'd expected to, sometimes they felt- planned. But Logan could swear up and down he was imagining things, there was no way someone as influential, nor as self-absorbed, as a Kingsley would've spared him a second glance.

And he carried this thought process with him, that is, until he found a letter on his desk. A letter, inviting him to the company Christmas party, from Remus.

"Did you get my letter?" Remus leaned on Logan's desk, that same grin he always wore plastered on his face.

"Yes, though I dont think you specified the office you want it delivered to?" Logan replied.

"Oh! My bad, I think it was right abooouuuuttt- here," Remus pressed a finger to Logan's nose, Logan tensed slightly, his cheeks flushed red.

"You turn a very pretty red when you're nervous," Remus purred, resting his head on his arms, which were now crossed over Logan's desk wall.

"I-" Logan wasnt sure what to say, here was all the evidence, right in front of his face, and yet he still didnt dare believe it.

And he didnt believe it, not until the day of the Christmas party, where he arrived in a limousine, hand in hand with the man, to a cruise ship of all places, wearing, for the first time in his life, a stunning midnight blue dress, that made him feel like he was worth a glance.

Though of course, no amount of party dresses could top that which he wore on his wedding night, a floor length gown of Remus' own design, studded with pearls and sequins, reflecting blue lights everywhere he walked.

"Remember how I said I wouldnt mind seeing a face like yours every day?" Remus said, smiling as he moved Logan's veil.

"Well, you wont have to worry about that now, will you?" Logan said, smiling, and he relished in the kiss that Remus placed on his lips, Remus' arm pulling Logan closer and closer by the waist, until the space between them was so thin that they were almost attached.

----------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@thefivecalls

@willowaudreykeyes

@pricklyfish777

@the-sad-strawberry

@private-snippers

@extercs-experiences

@theonetruebeepboop

@mycatshuman

@teamplutoforlife

@melodiread

@meowthefluffy

@frawkeye

@cemmy

@nerosdayinhell

@thecolorfulolive

@frog-candy-bee

[headoverhiddles]

Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store. 

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want. 

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil? 

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

--

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk. 

"She was looking at you." 

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs. 

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says. 

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.” 

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs. 

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them. 

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?” 

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest. 

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?” 

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?” 

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.” 

He laughs as he follows you to your locker. 

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.” 

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again. 

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little. 

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear. 

“Brian... Bri, make me c--” 

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?" 

"What, you thought I was a virgin?” 

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me." 

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell. 

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it." 

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles. 

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.” 

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--" 

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.” 

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

[marjansmarwani]

You Can Learn to Love (Again)

A Tarlos Teacher AU // 14.3K

[Read on ao3]

TK Strand needs a fresh start. He needs to get as far away from the memories and temptations of NYC as he possibly can so when he finds an opening at a prestigious high school in Austin, he jumps at the chance.

As things fall into place he is surprised to find just how well he fits into Austin; how well this new life he built for himself suits him. There’s only one complication: another (insanely attractive) English teacher by the name of Carlos Reyes whose existence does not fit into TK’s carefully constructed plans. The universe, however, seems to have another plan entirely.

Or, the Teacher AU absolutely no one asked for.

Welcome to the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written! I had a good time writing it and I ended up really liking it though, and I hope you do too. Huge shoutout to @officerrxyes for helping me with the edits and putting it up me throughout the entire process. 

-----

This is not how he had wanted to start his first day. He had been hoping to make a good impression, maybe make it through the first week without drawing too much attention to himself. 

 The universe had other plans, it seemed. 

 It had started with the traffic. He was still new to the area and had severely underestimated how heavy traffic was in this city (really, who knew?) Thankfully he had been nervous enough that he had left his apartment almost an hour earlier than he should have had to for a 4-mile drive, which had gotten him here with about 10 minutes to spare. 

 If it had just been that, it would have been fine. He could have shaken it off, gotten into his classroom and been ready to face the day with plenty of time before his students showed up. But no, it couldn’t be that simple. Instead, he was stuck here, in his current predicament. 

 By the time he arrived there was not a parking spot to be found. He had anxiously circled the parking lot twice before spotting an empty space miraculously close to the front doors. He thought maybe his luck had finally changed - until he tried to open his door. The car next to him was parked so close that he could barely even get his door more than an inch let alone wide enough to get out. He glanced over to the passenger side to find that car was almost as close. He banged his head against the steering wheel in frustration. Of course. Of fucking course - he had moved across the country, managed to get a job in one of the best high schools in the state, and now he was going to blow it because he was trapped in his car. Typical. 

 He forced himself to take a deep, calming breath before examining the situation again. There might just be enough room on the passenger side to open the door and squeeze out. Then he would just have to wait long enough that the other cars would be gone before he tried to leave at the end of the day. Totally doable — he just had to climb over the center counsel. He examined the layout and sighed. There was no way to do this gracefully. He took a silent moment to mourn his nice professional wrinkle-free first-day outfit before he resigned himself to the inevitable. 

 He had known it was not going to be a graceful process, but he had still underestimated exactly how awkward it would be. He cleared the counsel and got one foot on the ground outside the passenger door before carefully sliding himself out, careful not to let his door hit the car beside him. Once he had both feet on the ground he reached back in to grab his bag, which he pulled out before closing the door and walking to the back of the car. Once he was free of the confined space he took a deep breath as he smoothed out his clothes, wiping away any wrinkles. 

 “That was pretty impressive,” someone noted, voice full of amusement. 

 TK spun around to find an incredibly attractive man standing behind him, looking him over with a raised eyebrow. TK wanted to shoot back something clever but instead he tripped over his words, stuttering through half-formed thoughts before he blurted out “thanks.” 

 Inwardly, he groaned. Because this morning hadn’t been bad enough - now he was a stuttering mess in front of this guy who possibly had the most gorgeous eyes TK had ever seen and had just used those eyes to watch TK climb out of his own car like a contortionist. He was really winning today. 

 “Anytime,” the stranger returned with a grin. They stood there, not saying anything for a few more moments until the stranger continued, “Well I guess I should,” he trailed off gesturing towards the building. TK nodded vaguely before a glance at his watch pulled him back to reality, “Oh, yeah. Me too.” 

 “Well, I hope you have a good first day. My name is Carlos, by the way.” 

 “TK,” he offered, plastering on what he hoped was a charming smile. 

 Carlos grinned at him, “I’ll see you around, TK.” 

 And with that, he was gone. TK watched him walk away until the snap of the door closing behind him dragged him back to the present. He glanced at his watch again only to see that he only had two minutes before he would officially be late for his first day. 

 “Shit,” he muttered to himself before hiking his bag up in his shoulder and sprinting towards the door. 

 ------

 “Don’t forget to get those syllabi signed!” TK called to the retreating backs of his second-period freshman class.  “Whether or not you think it’s stupid does not change the fact that it is an easy grade!” 

 This earned a few chuckles from the students still gathering their things and he flashed a grin at them. Despite the rough start, the morning has actually gone pretty well. His first two classes had gone smoothly and the kids seemed like a good bunch. He was optimistic about the year. Now he was looking at his first prep period of the day and since there was no grading to tackle yet he figured this was as good of a time as any to try to get the lay of the land, so to speak. Plus, he needed to find the copier. He had printed out the syllabi for the first day on his home printer but there was no way he was going to keep doing that. He fully intended to use the school provided resources, thank you very much. 

 He was just about to grab his ID and keys and head out in pursuit of a copy machine or faculty room when someone stepped into his classroom. TK recognized him but couldn’t put a name to the face. 

 “Hey Mr. Strand, I just wanted to stop by to see how your first day was going. I’m Judd Ryder, one of the Assistant Principals.” 

 TK smiled at him, crossing over to shake his hand, “I remember you, you were on my interview committee, right?” 

 He nodded, “That’s right. I was pretty impressed by you, I think you’ll do great things here.” 

 “That’s very kind of you to say, I hope I can live up to it,” TK responded, a little taken aback by the praise.

 Mr. Ryder shrugged, “I was impressed by your thoughts on curriculum, but really I think you’re going to do a good job connecting to the students. You’ve got the freshman this year and they need that. That connection might be the difference between failure and success for some of them.” 

 TK nodded, unsure of how to respond. He fiddled with his lanyard for a moment before the AP laughed, shaking his head; “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you - my wife is always telling me I don’t need to voice every thought that pops into my head and, well clearly that’s a problem for me.”

 TK relaxed and smiled at the older man, “It’s fine, it’s nice to hear such good things, it’s just the first day and all—a lot to take in, you know?”

 Ryder nodded, “I hear that. Anything I could help with?”

 “Actually, yeah—any chance you could point me towards a copier? My printer at home will never recover if I try to do much more with it.” 

 “Sure thing, I’ll take you there. It’s on my way anyways,” he said over TK’s protests, “no trouble at all.” 

 They step into the hallway and once TK is sure the door to his classroom is shut and locked behind him they move down the hall, back towards the main hallway. Judd keeps up a steady stream of conversation all the way and TK nods and makes noises of agreement where necessary. It’s not that he doesn’t like Judd, he’s just not used to such an amicable relationship with administrators. It had never been like that in any of his previous schools. He liked the feeling of familiarity but knew that it would be a while before he ever completely bought into it. He was much more likely to err on the side of polite professionalism. 

 They had arrived at the faculty room now and as TK went to open the door it swung open as another teacher stepped out. He was a little older than TK and his eyes went wide as he halted inches from colliding with him. Judd laughed from behind TK, “Well I was going to say you two should meet at some point, so I guess now is as good a time as any. TK Strand, meet Paul Strickland, one of our Earth Science teachers. He’s also your neighbor.”  

 Paul grinned and stuck out his hand, “it’s good to meet you, man. I was going to stop by later on, but bumping into each other works too I guess.” 

 TK chuckled and took the offered hand, “I suppose it does. So you’re my neighbor, huh?” 

 Paul nodded, “And part of the grade level team. You’ll actually be seeing the rest of us in a bit—we have common planning 5th period.” 

 TK nodded, he had noticed that on the schedule. “Cool, well, I’ll see you then. In the meantime, I should get some copies done while I have a chance.” 

 “Don’t use tray 3—it always jams.” 

 “Thanks for the tip.” 

 “Don’t mention it; I know how much it sucks to have to spend your entire prep clearing out a paper jam.” 

 “Still, I appreciate it.” 

 Paul nodded and then with another smile and a wave to Judd, he was gone. They watched him go for a second before Judd spoke again, “You have a solid team to work with in your wing, I’m sure you’ll all get along fine.”

 “I think you might be onto something,” TK agreed. Then, with another thanks, he stepped into the faculty room, leaving the Assistant Principal behind.  

 ---

 Two periods later and TK was starting to remember how exhausting the first week of school was. The endurance it took to do this all day was nothing to scoff at, and each year in September it needed to be built up again. Somehow each year, he managed to forget that. As the last of the 4th-period stragglers filed out he sank into his desk chair and leaned back, allowing himself to take a deep breath. All he wanted to do was sleep for a week, but he still had common planning, hall duty, one more class, and an apartment full of boxes waiting to be unpacked. Sleep was a luxury he couldn’t afford right now. 

 A knock at his door wrenched him from his fantasies of peaceful sleep. He jumped to his feet, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes as he looked towards the door to find Paul and two others standing on the threshold.

 “The first week is always the hardest, isn’t it?” Paul noted as he invited himself into the room, the other two at his heels. 

 TK nodded, only cutting off for a yawn, “You could say that,” he finally got out. 

 Paul gave him a sympathetic grin before turning to his two companions. “Guys, this is TK Strand, the new English teacher. TK,” he said turning to face him, “this is Marjan Marwani and Mateo Chavez, Math and Social Studies teachers respectively.”

 TK gave them each a nod and a smile. “So, we’re the ninth grade team?” 

 “One of them,” Marjan confirmed, settling onto one of the desks. “So you better get used to us - we’re stuck together and you get to see our lovely faces every day for this common planning period.” 

 “Where do we meet for that, by the way?” 

 “Your room of course,” Marjan said with a raised eyebrow, “the newbie always hosts.” 

 Paul rolled his eyes. “She’s kidding,” he informed TK, “but we do usually meet in here because there are more tables so it’s easier to spread out.”

 “Fine with me,” TK replied with a shrug, “you guys are more than welcome.” 

 The others smiled their thanks before Mateo spoke up. 

 “So TK,” he asked in what was clearly meant to be a casual tone, “how long have you been teaching?” 

 TK raised an eyebrow, “This is my 4th year, why?” 

 “Damn it,” Mateo swore mournfully as Marjan let out a bright burst of laughter. 

 When TK shot Paul a confused look he stifled his own laughter long enough to explain, “Mateo here is our probie. He’s only in his second year and he’s desperately hoping to find someone lower on the totem pole than him. You being new to the district and pretty young, he thought maybe he had a chance.” 

 Now TK grinned outright as he turned his gaze back to Mateo, “sorry to disappoint you probie, but I already put in my time as the newbie. You have my sympathies though.” 

 Mateo pouted as the other two laughed lightly at him. TK shook his head fondly and sat on one of the desks to survey this group—his new team. 

 As Marjan crossed to Mateo to ruffle his hair and Paul rolled his eyes at the pair while not quite being able to hide his smile, something settled in TK’s gut. They were going to get along just fine. More than that, TK had a feeling that as long as he had this group at his side he’d be fine. Maybe, despite the disastrous beginning, this year might not be the disaster he feared after all. 

 ---

 After the first day, things went pretty smoothly. He’d settled into a routine and beyond the usual unpredictable nature of teenagers, he had everything under control. He was feeling pretty confident about this change—for once he may have actually made the right choice. He wanted to savor that feeling, but there was still one more unknown element to his work life that he hadn’t gotten to experience yet: the department meeting. So when Thursday rolled around he waved goodbye to the rest of his team and set off to find room 306. 

 If his past experience was anything to go on this meeting would likely be nothing more than a waste of time. Just something they are mandated to do where they talk about goals and test scores and analyze data without actually accomplishing anything actionable. But it was still something new; a potential disaster waiting around the corner for him. He’s almost convinced that’s what it’s going to be too - everything else is going far too well. Something has to give at some point. 

 He found the room and entered cautiously; scanning the room as he took an empty seat. Everyone else is chatting amongst themselves and while a few sent him curious glances as he entered, for the most part everyone is minding their own business. He was so focused on surveying the room that he almost jumped when the chair next to him was pulled out and someone slid into the seat beside him. He looked over to see a woman smiling at him warmly, “You must be TK Strand,” she said by way of greeting. 

 He nodded and her smile somehow grew as she stuck out her hand, “I’m Grace Ryder, one of the 10th grade English teachers and yes, Judd Ryder is my husband,” she confirms. 

 TK chuckled as he took her hand. Apparently, his surprise at hearing her name was more evident than he had thought, “It’s nice to meet you Grace, and I’m afraid I don’t have a very good poker face.” 

 She laughed lightly and shook her head, “No, you do not. I can’t say I blame you though - new school, first department meeting, and someone comes up and knows your name - I’d be flustered too. But my husband has mentioned you so I figured I’d check-in, make sure you weren’t left out for the sharks. They do love fresh meat.” 

 TK raised an eyebrow, “It’s not that bad, is it?” 

 “They like a laugh, but from everything I’ve heard I think you’ll do just fine.” 

 TK was going to ask what she meant by that when her expression shifted again as she spotted something over TK’s shoulder. 

 “They’re not all bad though,” she said with a smile. “In fact, here’s one you should meet. Reyes!” The last part was directed at someone behind TK. He turned to see who Grace was intent on him meeting and froze. 

 “TK,” Grace was saying as the man walked over, “This is Carlos Reyes, one of the Senior English teachers and an all-around good egg.” 

 Carlos chuckled and TK felt a shock run through his body at how wonderful of a sound it was. 

 “You’re too nice to me Grace,” Carlos was saying as he bent down to give her a quick one-armed hug.

 Grace swatted at him, “I am exactly as nice to you as you deserve. Carlos, this is TK Strand - the new Freshman English teacher.” 

 Carlos turned his smile on TK, who was fairly certain he was going to melt in this very spot from the warmth of it, “We’ve met, actually—in passing. I didn’t know you were in the department, how’s it been so far?”

 “Good, it’s been good,” he managed to splutter out after a few moments and the mortifying realization that he had been quiet for too long and Grace and Carlos were both looking at him. 

 Carlos kept smiling at him, “That’s good to hear. I’m sure I’ll see you around but feel free to let me know if you need anything. I’m in room 214.” 

 TK nodded and then with a wave, Carlos was gone. TK shook himself from his stupor to find Grace giving him a pitying look, “Oh honey,” was all she said. Her voice was low, but it was clear she was suppressing laughter.  

 “What?” TK demanded, even as he could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks. Grace just shook her head and let some of the laughter escape. He turned away from her petulantly but she reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm. 

 “I’m sorry dear,” she said through her laughter, “I’m not making fun of you, really. I can’t say I can blame you either; he is quite something.” 

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded stiffly.

 “Yes, I’m sure you don’t,” Grace said, making an effort to match his tone. He rolled his eyes and shot her an exasperated look but she just kept chuckling quietly even as the meeting started. 

 It was good to know he had been right about this meeting being the disaster he had been waiting for—it was just not the kind he had anticipated. 

 ----

 The days marched on and more and more it felt like any other school year. TK had fallen into a routine; he had found his stride. He had found his footing with his students; he had found friends in his team. This change—the new job, the new school, the new state—was going so much better than he had anticipated. When he had sent in the application, it had been on a whim. He had been floundering in the shambles of what had been and desperate for a direction, a way out. This job had seemed like a desperate hope; a future he could only dream of surrounded by the wreckage of his old hopes and plans. He had just needed a point to aim for, an exit sign to direct him out of this mess. He had never expected it to actually work. 

 But against all odds and his own firmly held beliefs he made it work, he hadn’t failed. It was an exciting prospect, but also a terrifying one. With things going this well, it was only a matter of time before the proverbial other shoe dropped. He does everything he can to prevent that eventuality. He works hard, throwing himself into every lesson plan and every assignment. He tackles any administrative task as soon as possible, never letting anything sit on his desk. Above all, he takes a wide berth around room 214. Carlos’s smile may live in his head rent-free, but he can’t afford a distraction. Especially not one like him —one so objectively perfect. He’s not ready for that and to be so close to the possibility would break his still-healing heart. 

 He almost welcomes the distraction of his traditional beginning of the year benchmark essay—right up until he gets a look at the stack awaiting grading. He is in the middle of the first period’s stack when the rest of the team walked in for common planning. 

 “It’s only the second week of school,” Mateo noted, “isn’t it a little early to be assigning essays?” 

 “No,” TK explained, looking up from the paper he was reading, “because it’s my job to get them to high school level writing by the end of the year for the sake of all of the other English teachers and I need to know where they are at now so I know what to focus on.” 

 Marjan leaned on the corner of his desk and poked at one of the piles apprehensively, “Learn anything yet?” 

 TK sighed wearily as he circled yet another use of “bc” and left a comment indicating that abbreviations may have their uses, but they did not belong in academic writing. “Yes,” he said, looking up from the paper before him, “I have learned that we have a lot of work to do.” 

 Mateo chuckled and Marjan winced sympathetically. Paul, who had grabbed one of the essays off the stack and was skimming it, raised an eyebrow. 

 “I do not envy you, man,” he noted as he replaced the paper, “and I thought trying to hammer the format of a lab report into their heads was hard. This is next level.” 

 “Academic writing is something completely different from what they’re used to,” TK pointed out reasonably, “It’s my job to teach them how to do it,” he paused here as he glanced back down at the paper before him. “Doesn’t make it any less painful though,” he said with another sigh. 

 The others settled down at and on the desks nearest to his and watched as he skimmed through another paper, pausing occasionally to make a comment or correction. After a few minutes he looked up at them, eyebrows raised. 

 “Are you all just going to sit there and watch me grade these or…”

 Mateo shrugged and Marjan grinned back at him, “We’re offering you moral support, didn’t you know?” 

 He scowled and grabbed an old worksheet from the table beside him and balled it up to throw at her. She dodged it expertly and grinned even wider. Paul sighed from a nearby desk. 

 “Now children,” he admonished, voice filled with exasperation as he rolled his eyes at their antics. 

 “She started it,” TK pointed out reasonably. Paul shook his head and stood up. 

 “I think that as long as we can agree that there are no pressing matters to be discussed we can all take this time to work on our own grading, in our own classrooms. Any objections?” 

 Marjan looked like she was going to say something, but at TK’s narrowed eyes she sighed and shook her head. 

 “Good,” Paul declared with a nod. “Good luck with all those, man,” he added to TK as he headed to the door. TK wearily waved his thanks and then they were gone. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. He loved what he did really, but sometimes when faced with the stack of 120 essays and the reminder that other content areas didn’t have to do this, he sometimes regretted not following his father’s footsteps. Firefighters didn’t have to grade essays. 

 Inevitably, he would recall all of the reasons he didn’t join the family business: the long hours, the danger, the toll it had taken on his father over the years both physically and emotionally. Then he would think of all the reasons he loved teaching anyways and go back to work. This time was no exception. The only difference was that as he picked up his pen again to continue grading he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He should really call his father. It had been too long. He knew that his dad was trying to give him space, trying to give him the time he needed to adjust on his own terms; but his dad had been the one thing in New York he hadn’t needed distance from. He was the one thing he had regretted leaving. He needed to call him - he owed him that much. More than that, it would be nice to hear his voice. After he finished this class’ essays, he promised himself, he’d take a break and call his dad during his lunch. 

 Fate seemed to have a different plan though as the next thing TK knew students were entering his classroom. He glanced up at the clock in surprise, only to find that he had worked straight through his prep and lunch without even noticing it. He sighed and put down his pen, standing to go greet his students at the door. His dad would have to wait, it seemed. He plastered on a smile and got ready to start the lesson. 

 At some point, Marjan appeared in his doorway, a sheepish look on her face. He nodded to her and instructed the kids to read the next section in the text on their own and be ready to share some thoughts from it before he crossed the room to meet her. 

 “What’s up?” he asked, expression furrowed. 

 She held up the papers in her hand, “I forgot I promised the SPED teacher I would get these 408s sighed during our common planning. I have all the documents that you can look over later, but for right now could you just sign so I can get these back to her?” 

 He smirked at her as he took the papers; flipping through them to see what students he was signing for, “How could you have possibly forgotten? Were you so busy doing something else that maybe it slipped your mind?” 

 “Haha,” she responded drily, expression far from impressed. He shook his head and chuckled, but pulled a pen out of his pocket and used the wall beside the door to sign his name on the appropriate lines. He went to hand them back to her, but pulled up just short and held them just out of her reach, “do I have your word that you will provide me with the proper documentation for all these students so I can be assured I did not just commit fraud by signing these?” 

 She rolled her eyes at him, “Yes, I will bring them by at the end of the day.” With that she held out her hand for the papers, which he passed back to her. Then she was gone, and he turned back to his class. 

 “Alright, I asked you to have things to share, so who’s going to break the ice?” 

 There was the typical teenage silence before one of the girls in the back raised her hand tentatively, but not before glancing at her friends. 

 “Aniyah, what do you think?” TK asked her with a grin, perching himself on his desk. 

 “Mr. Strand, are you and Ms. Marwani dating?” 

 TK blinked at her. He glanced around at the rest of the kids in the room, none of whom seemed surprised by the question. “No,” he answered slowly, “why would you ask that?” 

 She shrugged awkwardly, glancing at her friends for support, “You guys just seem really close, and almost like you’re flirting?” 

 He shrugged, “No, we’re just friends, definitely not dating—not that it is any of your business.” 

 One of the boys in the front smirked at him, “I don’t know Mister, you two seem pretty friendly, I think maybe you’re in denial.” 

 TK met the kid’s eyes and raised a single eyebrow as he said drily, “I can assure you she’s not my type.” 

 Most of the kids nodded sagely, but a few seemed puzzled. He rolled his eyes and stood up, “Okay, ‘discuss Mr. Strand’s love life’ time is over. Don’t think you’re going to distract me enough that I forget about the homework. Anyone else want to share any thoughts on the reading—you know, the class work; that thing we’re here for?” 

 A few hands raised but even as he called on them he was chuckling to himself. Marjan was going to love this. 

 ----

 As time progresses TK sticks to his plan: do his work, make a good impression, avoid Carlos.  He’s successful in that last goal too, for a while. But of course, nothing good can last and one October afternoon in the faculty room, his streak is broken. 

 He crossed the room towards the mailboxes without glancing around and didn't think to check his surroundings until a familiar voice called for his attention. 

 “Hey TK, how have things been? You settling in alright?” 

 He froze, slowly glancing up from the flyer about the can drive he had been reading. He knew before he saw (there was no mistaking that voice) but his heart still skipped a beat just the same. 

 “Carlos, hey. Yeah, it’s been great actually. No problems at all.” 

 Carlos grinned at him and TK had to remind himself how to breathe. “Glad to hear it. Oh,” he said suddenly, “this is Michelle Blake, one of the school social workers. And my best friend,” he added with a roll of his eyes when Michelle, apparently, gave him a pointed look. 

 She grinned at his addition before turning to face TK. She looked him up and down appraisingly before speaking, “It’s nice to finally meet you TK, Carlos has mentioned you.” 

 TK flicked his gaze to Carlos who was very intently studying the rice in his lunch and studiously avoiding both their gazes. “Nothing bad, I hope,” he said lightly. 

 Internally, he was panicking.  

 “Definitely not. Nothing but the truth I’m sure, and the truth was all good.” 

 “Right,” TK said with uncertainty. He waited, but Michelle did not speak again. “Well,” he said eventually, “I should get going. I just wanted to grab these flyers and then I was going to try to use the rest of my prep to try and put together a mini-unit for Halloween.” 

 At this, Carlos looked up, “What are you thinking?” 

 TK shrugged, “I was leaning towards Poe. Always a classic, and in my experience, kids have always liked his stuff.” 

 “I have some materials you could use, if you’d like. I’ve done that before, so I have most of the stuff in one of my binders.” 

 “Really?” he didn’t even bother to hide the surprise in his voice. 

 Carlos nodded, “Sure. You can stop by at the end of the day, if you’d like.”

 TK hesitated. One the one hand, there was the pact he had made with himself: no distractions. On the other, there was a unit he wouldn’t have to plan. Which meant more prep time to spend on grading, which meant less work to take home.   

 “That'd be great, thanks. Room 214, right?” 

 As if he could have forgotten. 

 Carlos nodded in confirmation, “See you later then?” 

 “Absolutely.” 

 Then with a smile to the pair, TK was gone. He didn’t realize he was still grinning until he ran into Paul outside of his classroom. The other teacher looked at him suspiciously, “what has you looking so chipper?” 

 “Nothing,” TK said too hastily, judging by Paul’s look, “one of the other English teachers has materials I can use for a unit I wanted to do so as long as they work out, that’s an entire unit I don’t have to plan.” 

 Paul nodded appreciatively, “That’s a lucky break.”

 TK nodded again before excusing himself and stepping into his own classroom. The rest of the day flew by and before he knew it he was seeing his last class out the door. Once they were gone and the hallway was mostly clear of students, TK grabbed his things and headed up to room 214. There’s a trophy case down the hall and he stops and anxiously checks his reflection before approaching the door to room 214. It’s open but TK hovered at the threshold nervously, knocking on the doorframe to get Carlos’s attention. He looked up from his desk and the smile that spread across his face at the sight of TK nearly had him holding onto the doorframe for support.

 “Hey,” he said in what he prayed was a normal voice, “I was just here for those files, if you still wanted to give them to me?”

 “Actually, I’ve changed my mind and you can’t have them.”

 “Oh,” TK said, “I’ll just go then, sorry for—”

 “TK, I’m kidding,” Carlos assured him as he stood up from his desk. “I offered them, didn’t I? Besides, we’re working on college essays and applications; there won’t be any time for Poe this year.”

 “That’s a shame,” TK noted as he took a few tentative steps inside the room, “but I’m sure they’ll appreciate it when they have their applications done.”

 “That’s the hope,” Carlos agreed, “but right now they’re not too fond of me.”

 TK chuckled and Carlos looked up from the bookshelf he was scanning to see TK still standing a few feet from the door. “I don’t bite,” he deadpanned, “you can come in.”

 TK laughed nervously and crossed the room, coming to a halt several feet away from Carlos. The other man continued scanning the shelf and upon finding what he was looking for made a triumphant noise before turning to face TK, holding out a binder. TK raised an eyebrow and took it, glancing over at the shelves that were filled with neat rows of binders all clearly labeled.

 “You are aggressively organized,” he noted.

 Carlos chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah. I know it looks like a lot, but after switching grade levels a few times it’s the only way I can keep anything straight anymore.”

 TK nodded as he slipped through the binder, “That’s fair. I used to have a lot of binders like that too, but I thankfully digitized them before I moved down here. I can’t imagine transporting all those across the country would have been fun.”

 “No, I can’t imagine it would be. Guess it’s a good thing I have no intention of leaving.”

 TK looked up from the binder to see Carlos studying him. He smiled at the other man, who returned it before settling onto the desk across from TK.

 “I didn’t realize you were new to the area.”

 TK nodded, “Just moved here from NYC about 2 weeks before school started.”

 Carlos raised an eyebrow, “that’s ambitious.”

 TK sighed and nodded. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice, but everything happened so fast. Thankfully everything has worked out pretty well so this may not be the horrific disaster I thought it would be.”

 “That’s optimism for you,” Carlos observed dryly. “What brought you down here, if you don’t mind me asking.”

 TK’s hand froze in its journey down the page he was reviewing as his other hand clenched the binder tightly.

 “Just looking for a fresh start,” he said evenly, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the page before him and praying that Carlos could not hear the racing of his heart.

 If Carlos noticed anything odd, he didn’t let on.

 “That’s a big change. Did you come down here alone?”

 “Just me, myself, and my boxes.”

 “So why Austin then? I could be wrong, but it seems like a pretty big change from NYC.”

 “I wanted to leave the city and try something new. I saw this opening here, researched the school, and decided it was worth a shot. What about you though,” he asked, switching gears and looking up from the binder, “Austin born and raised?”

 “Yep, go Longhorns,” he said with forced enthusiasm. TK raised a skeptical eyebrow and Carlos pushed on, “never mind. So,” he continued, and TK noticed a change in his tone that had him looking up again, “leave anyone behind in New York?”

 There was silence for a moment as their eyes met and they both knew what was really being asked.

 “Just my dad.”

 “Yeah, I only have my family too. But there’s a lot of them so that’s more than enough.”

 TK smiled in spite of himself. “My mom’s in New York too, but she’s always traveling for work so really it’s always been just me and my dad. Honestly, leaving him there was the hardest thing about this move, and the only thing I regret.”

 He paused in the wake of his words, surprised by how much he just shared with this near stranger but before he could dwell on it Carlos was giving him a reassuring smile that set his nerves at ease.

 “Sounds like you’re close.”

 “We are,” TK confirmed, voice growing softer as he thought about his dad. “He’s still my hero, always has been. He’s a firefighter, and I thought I wanted to be one when I was young too. But as I got older, I saw the toll it took on him and decided to take a different path. I still love and admire him for doing it though. I couldn’t picture him doing anything else.”

 There was quiet in the room again. TK started to panic, thinking that maybe he shared too much (he still can’t believe he said any of that), but something about Carlos makes him feel so comfortable he hadn’t even noticed until the words were already out there. He’s about to apologize when Carlos speaks.

 “I get that. My dad was a cop and it was the same way when I was growing up. He was larger than life and my hero; I wanted to be just like him. But then I got older and decided I didn’t like the reality of law enforcement as much as I had the concept. I decided I could do more good from inside a classroom and well, here we are.”

 “Here we are,” TK agreed, “who would have thought?”

 Carlos laughed appreciatively and the sound washed over TK with all the warmth of sunlight. He smiled back at him before turning his gaze back to the binder. The conversation flows easily between them and before TK knew it he caught a glance at his watch and let out a curse when he realized how late it had gotten. Carlos gave him a questioning look and TK gestured up at the clock, “We should have left ages ago. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you up; I’m sure you have things to do.”

 “It’s fine, this was nice. Maybe if you stop by more often, we can chat in smaller increments. Otherwise I’m afraid this is just going to keep happening—I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go quickly if I don’t think there is a chance of it happening again within the next year.”

 TK rolled his eyes, “Well excuse me for being busy settling into a new school.” 

Which was a reasonable excuse. There is no way anyone would suspect he had been avoiding the other man (even though he absolutely had been).

 Still, this had been nice.

 He fingered the strap of his bag as he picked it up, “maybe we can continue this during lunch tomorrow? I’d like to actually ask you some questions about the materials, which is what I came here to do before we got sidetracked.”  

 Part of TK was praying he would say no.

 Instead, he grinned, “sure, I’d like that. Until tomorrow then, Mr. Strand.”

 “See you then, Reyes.”

 And with a wave, he was gone.

 His heart was still racing as he climbed into his car. He leaned against the seat and sighed. Operation avoid Carlos Reyes had officially crashed and burned. This was a terrible idea; he should find a reason to cancel tomorrow and go back to avoiding him as much as possible. This was a risk he didn’t need to be taking.

 But even as he sat here, he couldn’t ignore the warm feeling of the aftermath of a pleasant conversation. His mind was shouting at him that this was a terrible idea, but he was having a harder time believing it with every passing second. His rules said no dating, but there was no reason they couldn’t be friends, right?

[Continue Reading on ao3]