#Struggle so bad with finding other things... Acts of service? Uh... Sure but i usually need to be told such things i otherwise suck

[mrfoox]

I really am usually the one stroking others egos... When it's the other way around I'm like ah... Oh wow that's diffrent 😳

[fawnfictions]

are you still receiving requests? if yes, can i ask for the monkey boys (separately) with a tsundere s/o?

like, their love language is acts of service and gifts so they often cleans the boys’ things and buy them things that they heard they would like to have? and they just look away and shrugs like telling they had nothing better to do or ‘whatever’... also touch starved! they get hyper flustered and cute when receiving touch or affection in general but secretly wants more.

uh, whatever...

— macaque & wukong x gn!reader

wasn't sure if 'monkey boys' included MK or not—if it does!! feel free to send in another ask and i'll do another for him, too :))

;; romantic, fluff, no warnings? tsundere behaviour.

MACAQUE

- he would find this behaviour very cute.

- likes to tease you a lot for it, revelling in your flustered state and whines, trying and failing to deny his flirtatious words.

- he's lowkey glad that you struggle with handling physical affection, because it distracts you from the fact that he can't handle it, either.

- people around you two, staring with deadpan expressions as you whine and fluster at Macaque placing an arm over you shoulder, pulling you close to himself as a bright red blush covers his face, unable to make eye contact with anyone.

- you'll both be awkwardly reaching for each others touches and attention, touch-starved but struggling to handle the feeling.

- eventually, you both work it out, though—he gets a lot more confident and cockier with his advances and flirts, and you get a little more used to it, while still flustering.

- honestly, Macaque is quite lazy in nature, and with the occasional depressive episode he puts himself through because of his past, his places tend to get a little... messy, to put it lightly.

- although he may not show it, you cleaning up after him REALLY helps his mental health, and he appreciates it more than he can possibly admit.

- genuinely, though, if he comes home after a long day to find that you've cleaned his belongings and furniture, he won't be able to stop himself from falling in love even more.

- depending on his mood, he'll either kiss you on the spot and force you to relax on the couch with him, or he'll discreetly show his gratitude through an expensive gift somehow turning up amongst your things, or that one restaurant you've been craving arriving at your front door.

- but, if you get him a gift in return, he'll feel bad.

- Macaque isn't used to people buying stuff for him, especially as often as you do, so he's constantly trying to convince you to not waste your money/time on him, or is getting you a gift of similar expenses in return.

- keep it up and keep insisting that he deserves it, he'll eventually get used to it and won't feel as bad or undeserving of it all.

- he honestly adores your stubborn nature.

- Macaque loves that you usually have a response to his witty comebacks, or that you at least try to fight him on it.

- he likes the fire inside you, and is constantly adding to it with the intention to purposefully rile you up.

- sometimes, he may take it too far, though.

- once he realises he upset you, he'll feel really bad about it and will do just about anything to gain your forgiveness.

- in all honesty, he fucking sucks at apologies.

- but he'll try his best, stuttering over his words and giving you a peace offering in the form of a cute plushie or a sugar snack that he knows you like.

- "a-ah, i'm... sugarplum, i'm sorry—i didn't mean it. could you, uh, can you forgive me?"

- just tell him you do and give him a big ol' smooch and his tail will be wagging happily.

- he'll still tease you, though, just for the fun of it; but, he learns your limits and boundaries, and makes sure not to cross them again.

WUKONG

- this man is also guilty of teasing you a lot.

- it's practically his love language, other than physical touch.

- he can't get enough of the look on your face when he flusters you, making himself blush in the process due to the extent of his love for you.

- it's not too difficult to fluster him back, though.

- he'll take any of your physical affections in stride, but isn't as used to someone flirting back at him, or pulling any... 'spicy' gestures on him.

- be warned, though, if you even TRY to do this, whether you succeed or not, he'll reverse it back onto you later, when you least expect it, to get his revenge.

- he's really good at seeing past your exterior personality, and understanding the true way you genuinely feel about things.

- he's thanking you for something, and you say, "whatever... i didn't do it for you, anyways."

- in reality, he knows the micro-expressions you make show that you're happy he appreciates your work, and the blush on your face solidifies this for him :))

- when he first met you, your reaction to his physical touches and affection made him back off a bit, assuming you genuinely didn't like it.

- but, later on, he realises that you lean closer to him whenever he's nearby, and that your hand trails after his when passing an object to each other.

- it makes his heart flutter to recognise that you do want his affections, you're just stand-offish and reserved in your own way.

- he's a lot more physical with you after that, cherishing his moments with you and finding your nervous reactions fun.

- he appreciates your acts of service and gifts, but he'd much rather spend time with you and enjoy the smaller things.

- he's Sun Wukong! the man already has plenty of objects and presents, its a problem, if anything.

- although, he won't leave your gifts in his hoarding piles, no, no—they've got their own place, where he won't lose them and the monkeys won't find them and destroy anything.

- as a compromise, though, he'll simply do these things with you!

- if you're getting him a gift, he'll go shopping with you! or will keep you company/offer help if its something that you make yourself.

- if you're cleaning around the mountain (good luck getting through the hoarding piles), he'll do it with you! helping sort things into piles, or taking out the trash—he just wants to spend time with you :(

- you'll probably yell at him for it... if he can help you clean, why can't he clean it HIMSELF???

- this is lowkey hypocritical of him, though, he likes buying you gifts a lot, especially if its Monkey King themed; he'll buy anything that reminds him of you (which is a lot, considering you're almost constantly on his mind).

[flightfoot]

Perspective From Another Timeline

Thanks to my betas @steelblaidd and Izzybusy!

I ADORE @buggachat new Bakery Enemies AU. This idea just kept on swirling through my head, I had to write it! This is set between parts 13 and 14, so after Adrien meets Alya and Nino but before Marinette starts sympathizing with him. AO3

---------

“You okay?”

Alya shook her head, trying to clear it. “I’ll be fine. I’ve weathered worse than that - we both have.”

Nino grinned at her. “True that.”

Alya smiled at him fondly, remembering Heroes Day. It was a bittersweet memory, with her having been turned against Nino and them both being akumatized. 

But they had fought to protect each other as best they could. She’d seen Prime Queen’s footage, how Carapace had struggled to get her to fight against Dark Cupid’s magic, how he’d only given into despair after she’d given into akumatization. 

“What did that blast do to us?” Nino wondered. “Everyone else the akuma blasted just disappeared. Why’re we still here?”

Alya’s brow furrowed. “I dunno… hold on, let me check to see whether any new info on the akuma’s been uploaded.”

Pulling out her phone, she tapped on the Akuma News Alert app.

An error message popped up, telling her that she had no internet connection.

Puzzled, Alya checked her phone’s other settings. 

No wifi - no wifi even recognized, much less connectable - no cell service, no connection to the outside world at all.

She glanced over at Nino. “Hey, you got any signal?”

Taking out his own phone, he quickly checked his connection. He shook his head. “Not a single bar.”

Frowning, Alya looked around. “Maybe all the cell towers were taken out?”

Everything looked intact though, no sign of any destruction at all.

Something else caught Alya’s eye. “Hey Nino, what time should it be?”

Nino blinked. “Well I mean lunch just started so it should be a little past noon-”

He glanced around, noticing the long shadows and the pinkish-orange of the evening sky.

“-which it clearly is not anymore,” he concluded.

Great. “Guess Ladybug and Chat Noir must’ve taken a while to defeat the akuma,” she said, putting her phone away. “Hopefully my parents aren’t too worried. They like me to text them just after an akuma attack, but right now…?” she gestured to her pocket.

“My folks aren’t as worried,” Nino said. “But they still expect me back home before the sun goes down. They’ll be getting nervous soon.”

Alya let out a small sigh. “So much for playing Super Penguino together.”

“Hmmm…” Nino’s eyes gleamed. “You know… it’s not night just yet. And I’m sure my parents would understand if I was a few minutes late because I grabbed a bite to eat.”

Grabbed a bite to eat? What was Nino hinting at…?

Alya looked around at their location more closely.

Wait… that blast seemed to have carried them to that one park, the one near-

Alya grinned. “I think my parents will forgive me for not calling in if I bring them fresh-baked treats from the best bakery in Paris.”

---

*ring ring*

The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the store. 

Instantly Alya felt her shoulders loosen up, releasing tension she didn’t even know she’d had. There was just something so warm and comforting about the bakery.

Of course, a lot of that was due to the people running it. Good luck finding more friendly, caring people than Marinette’s parents. Sabine often checked up on anyone who seemed to be struggling or upset (and ready to protect them if they were - Alya had seen the video of the time a TV crew decided to invade Marinette’s privacy), and Tom was basically a giant teddy bear in human form.

But neither of them were manning the counter today.

Instead a young woman stared back at them.

A very familiar-looking young woman. 

“Marinette?” Alya asked cautiously.

The woman stared at her for a minute. “Alya?” she finally asked. “What happened to you?” She paled. “Did a new supervillain attack? Is that why you and Nino are younger?”

Huh. Weirdly scared reaction from Marinette. They’d all gotten used to supervillains by now. She’d expect an older Marinette to take them in stride even more than the current Marinette.

Hm… an older Marinette, a different time of day, and Marinette not seeming to know about the latest akuma attack? 

“Marinette… what year is it?” 

Marinette blinked for a moment. Her eyes widened.

Seemed Marinette understood what she was getting at.

She told Alya the date.

Her hunch was right. “We’re in the future,” Alya breathed.

A wicked grin slowly spread over her face. 

Five years was a long time. A lot of things could have happened. A lot of information could’ve come to light.

Like Hawkmoth’s identity.

Or more information on the Miraculous.

But most importantly right now-

She leaned in close to Marinette, making sure to keep her voice down, just in case someone else was around in the back. “So did you ever get together with a certain blond-haired, green-eyed model?”

“Uh… what?” Marinette asked, looking puzzled.

Alya snapped her fingers. “Adrien. Did you and Adrien finally get together? Ooooh, if you did you’ve GOTTA tell me how the confession went! Or, no, wait, don’t tell me, I want to get the deets at the time. Just let me know how long I’ve got to wait, girl!”

Marinette just stared at her, slack-jawed. “Adrien… like ADRIEN AGRESTE?!” she said, her volume rising with every word.

Alya’s eyebrows flew up. “Um… yes…?”

She’d thought that Marinette would be glowing about finally getting together with her crush, or dejected about still not being able to spit out what she wanted to say to him, downcast over him rejecting her, or maybe even infuriated because he mistreated her and they subsequently broke up.

(The last one was VERY unlikely though. After the Felix debacle, she’d learned to have a bit more faith in Adrien’s good nature.)

Shock at the concept of dating him? Not something she’d anticipated.

Footsteps echoed from behind Marinette.

So one of Marinette’s parents must’ve been in the back-

Adrien popped his head around the corner.

Seemed both he AND Marinette had aged well. 

Not that Adrien looked all that different. Taller, definitely, maybe with slightly messier hair and… were those earrings? They looked good on him.

“Hey dude!” Nino waved at his best friend. “What’s up?”

“Uh…” Adrien said, scratching the back of his neck.

“WOW those outfits really take the years off, huh?” Marinette said loudly, shoving them out the door. “Make you look smaller than usual. Well we better go talk about plans later okaybye-”

She promptly slammed the door behind them, physically pushing them away from the bakery.

After Marinette had dragged them a good distance away, Alya finally got over her shock, turning around and glaring at her. “What was that about?!” she asked Marinette indignantly, hands on her hips. “You know me, I wasn’t going to spill anything to him. That’s why I was talking so quietly! Why’d you have to do that?!”

Nino frowned, seeming more concerned than annoyed. “Adrien looked really hurt by that. Not cool.”

“There’s nothing to spill!” Marinette protested, gesticulating wildly. “I only met him for the first time two days ago!”

*record scratch*

Two-

Two DAYS ago?!

Ok, hold up.

“Adrien joined our collège class the day after I did! He sits in front of you in class! What’re you TALKING about?!”

“Uh… no…?” Marinette tilted her head to the side, befuddled. “I think I would remember that, even if it was a few years back.” 

Alya let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, no kidding. He would be uh, difficult for you to forget. Heck, even if your memory was erased, you’ve got so much stuff revolving around him, I couldn’t see that lasting long.”

Marinette blushed. “Why do you think I have a crush on him?! He’s HAWKMOTH’S SON!”

“WHAT?!” Alya and Nino yelled in unison.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated Hawkmoth a couple years ago,” Marinette explained, pulling out her phone.

A moment later she held it up, showing a blog post from the Ladyblog.

Oooh, that’s a nice graphical design. I’ll have to look into updating my site, Alya thought.

Turning her attention to the picture, she squinted. “Hey, can you enlarge the photo?” She asked.

Marinette complied, enlarging it and turning her phone sideways, letting it fill the entire screen. 

Gabriel Agreste being led away in handcuffs by the police, with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the background. Ladybug looked satisfied, with maybe a twinge of melancholy, but Chat Noir…

He stared vacantly ahead, seemingly not focused on anyone or anything, a smile on his face - but the most forced one she’d ever seen.

“What’s wrong with Chat Noir?” 

Marinette frowned, looking troubled. “I don’t know. He seemed really, really upset when Hawkmoth was defeated. It was a tough battle, bad enough that neither of them have returned since, but that doesn’t explain why-”

She trailed off, lost in thought. 

A moment later she looked up, meeting Alya’s eyes.

Immediately she waved her hands around, trying to ward off… something. “I- I mean, that’s what I read on the Ladyblog and what I could piece together from video footage, it’s not like I was there, NOPE. I was huddled in my room the entire time. Not like I have any insight into what Chat Noir was acting like during the battle, not beyond what any other civilian would know! That would be ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” she let out a few forced guffaws.

Alya’s eyebrows flew up.

O...Kay…?

Maybe Marinette had been following Ladybug and Chat Noir during the final battle and hadn’t wanted anyone to know? She’d wondered whether Marinette might have a thing for Chat Noir, but her crush on Adrien dwarfed any feelings she might have had for him. Plus it’s not like Marinette would actually know Chat Noir, unlike Adrien.

Thinking about Adrien…

“He must’ve been devastated,” she murmured. Marinette looked at her questioningly. “Adrien, I mean,” Alya clarified. “Having your father turn out to be a terrorist? I can’t even imagine.”

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “Not you TOO,” she said, her voice muffled.

Nino slowly started edging his way behind Marinette.

“What’s your problem with Adrien?” Alya asked. “Did he do something?”

Marinette glanced away. “Not… exactly… I just… I’m afraid that it might all be an act. That he might’ve been helping Hawkmoth secretly, and… and even if he wasn’t before, that he might just be biding his time, waiting until he figures out who Ladybug and Chat Noir and then BAM!” she slammed her fist down on her other hand. “He takes them out, steals all the Miraculous, frees his father and rules Paris FOREVER!”

Alya reached out towards Marinette tentatively. She collapsed into Alya’s arms. 

Hugging her tightly, she sang a soft nonsense song, rubbing small circles in Marinette’s back. 

She’d done this a few other times since she’d met Marinette, though she’d never thought she’d do it underneath these circumstances.

Whatever these circumstances actually were.

Did everyone have amnesia or…?

“Do you have any big memory gaps?” Alya asked once Marinette’s breathing had calmed down. “Especially from five years ago?” 

Marinette shook her head. 

She’d shelve that theory for now then. More likely it was…

“An alternate timeline, huh?” Alya said.

Marinette looked up at her questioningly.

“That’s what I think this is,” Alya explained. “I WAS thinking that maybe there’d been some sort of mass amnesia, but if you don’t have any memory gaps - and trust me girl, with how involved you were with Adrien, there WOULD be memory gaps - that seems unlikely. I’m betting this is some sort of alternate universe, one where Adrien never got to go to school.”

“I still don’t get why you think there’s something between me and Adrien!” Marinette said. “I mean sure, he’s pretty, but did I really fall for him just for that?” 

Alya shook her head. “Actually, you hated him at first. Chloe’d been bragging about how he was her friend, and with that on top of you catching him trying to remove the gum Chloe’d planted on your seat and mistaking it for him PLANTING the gum… well… both of us just assumed he was a spoiled rich bully, just like Chloe. Luckily that turned out not to be the case.”

“How’d that misunderstanding get cleared up?” Marinette asked. “And how did your Marinette jump from that to crushing on him?”

Alya grinned. Marinette had ranted about this moment to her SO. MANY. TIMES.

“School let out later that day. It was raining and Marinette had forgotten her umbrella, so she hung back a moment, long enough for Adrien to approach her. At first she looked away from him, not wanting to acknowledge his greeting. But then he told you - told her I mean - that he hadn’t done it, promised that he’d just been trying to take it off with such sincerity that she had no choice but to believe it. He opened up to her, even though she’d been shunning him just moments ago. And finally he gave her his umbrella, just because he could. Because it was the kind thing to do. She’s been a goner ever since.”

The Marinette in her arms looked away. “I can see why she might have developed a crush on him. But I still dunno whether I trust him.”

“I don’t know whether I have anything that could convince you on that,” Alya admitted, “especially since this is probably a different timeline, and for all I know he could be evil here. Just make sure that you’re judging him on his own merits, okay? Not who he’s associated with. Not his fault he has so many crappy people in his life.”

“I’ll… take it under consideration,” Marinette said reluctantly. 

Marinette looked from side to side. “Where’d Nino go?”

“Oh, he snuck back into the bakery several minutes ago.”

“WHAT?!”

---

Nino opened the door to the bakery, letting out a small sigh of relief. He really wanted to check in on his best friend, and judging by Marinette’s behavior, she wasn’t exactly keen on him or Alya chatting with Adrien.

Thinking back on what he’d just heard, he frowned. 

He wished he could say that he’d never have suspected that Gabriel was Hawkmoth.

That he didn’t think Adrien’s old man could ever be capable of such evil.

But he knew better.

The guy threatened to withdraw Adrien from school and isolate him from everyone else at the drop of a hat, paid little attention to his son when he was at home, and was a very negative influence on his life in general. He might have been grieving, but… so was Adrien. He needed the only parent he had left.

And instead Gabriel had chosen to respond by becoming a supervillain and terrorizing Paris, endangering his own son in the process.

He really wished he’d gotten to hit Hawkmoth with his turtle shield more. At least he got to relish the smack he got in.

“You’re back!” 

Nino looked towards the voice.

Adrien walked closer to him, a tentative grin on his face. “I didn’t think you’d return so soon!”

“I had to come back to talk to my best friend,” Nino said.

“Best friend?” Adrien asked, blank-faced.

Oh, right. According to Marinette, Adrien hadn’t joined their class. She hadn’t even met Adrien until recently. 

Had some sort of memory-wiping akuma attacked? Wouldn’t have been the first time. 

“Do you know who I am?” Nino asked, pointing at himself.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… well I know you’re friends with the Ladyblogger and Marinette, and… sorry, that’s it.”

He looked really apologetic, like a dog who’d ripped up a bunch of toilet paper and acted guilty about it once caught.

Hm. If it had been a memory-erasing akuma, maybe he could jog Adrien’s memory…?

And even if it wasn’t, he wanted to let Adrien know that someplace, somewhere, people cared about him. If Marinette’s reaction to him was any indication, he’d need that reassurance. Being looked at with suspicion, having people run from you just because of who your dad was, thinking that you might’ve been involved in his crimes… he couldn’t imagine.

“You joined our class the day after Hawkmoth first attacked,” Nino told him, pulling out his phone.

Adrien shook his head, looking confused. “Uh… no? I wanted to, I REALLY wanted to go to school, but Father-”

He cut himself off, looking away.

“Marinette said the same thing,” Nino told him. “That you hadn’t enrolled in our class, that she’d only met you recently. I don't know what that’s about, whether everyone’s memories were wiped, or an akuma messed with the past, or what.”

Come on, come on, where was it- ah!

He clicked on a photo, one taken a few months ago, holding his phone up so his friend could get a better look.

Adrien squinted for a moment. His eyes widened. “That’s-!”

Nino nodded. “Our class photo. The official one, anyway.” He chuckled. “I liked our unofficial ones better.” Swiping to the side, he showed the new ones the class had taken at the park. 

Adrien’s jaw dropped more with every new photo. He let out an involuntary bark of laughter at the one of himself, Nino, Kim, and Juleka posing. “I- I always wanted to mess around like that at photoshoots,” Adrien said. His voice trembled slightly. “But I wouldn’t be able to get away with it. And that’s mostly fun when you can share it with friends, at least share the picture, and I- I couldn’t. Chloe wouldn’t have appreciated it, and L-”

He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Luka?” Nino asked. 

He didn’t know why Adrien would know Luka and not anybody else, but he seemed the most likely option.

“Uh…” Adrien scratched the back of his neck, looking away.

Hm, he’d have to see if he had- ah!

“You played in Kitty Section too, with Luka, Rose, Ivan, and Juleka.” Nino explained, clicking on the video. 

Adrien’s hands shook as Nino handed him the phone, watching the mini-concert.

“I- I was allowed to- I got to-” Adrien’s voice quavered. 

“Not at first.” Nino grimaced, remembering how bummed Adrien had sounded when he called him. “Your old man said that Agrestes were soloists, and that we were all bad influences.”

“HE was the bad influence,” Adrien said. A current of anger, of venom ran through his voice that Nino had never heard before. 

“Well I already knew that, even before finding out he was Hawkmoth,” Nino said, making a face. “Dude needed to chill out.”

Adrien snorted. “If he had any ‘chill’ he wouldn’t have decided that becoming a supervillain was the best way to heal my mother.”

Oh.

So THAT was why Gabriel had done it.

He’d just thought it was standard ‘I’m an asshole and want to rule the world while being a jackass to everyone in my life’ behavior.

(He still wasn’t going to rule out that being a factor.)

Nino put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder sympathetically. “At least he’s gone now and you’re free, right?”

“Right,” Adrien said. He didn’t meet Nino’s eyes.

“Not you TOO,” Marinette had said, burying her face in her hands.

As if she found it exasperating that Alya sympathized with Adrien. As if she had expected differently. 

Those worries she’d voiced as Nino had been tiptoeing away, about Adrien helping Hawkmoth, about him lying in wait, biding his time… Marinette probably wasn’t the only one to have that concern. And with Adrien’s face being as well-known as it was...

“You AREN’T free, are you?” Nino asked, eyes wide.

Adrien sighed. “I was as surprised as everyone else when I found out who Hawkmoth was. That someone who’s caused that much harm, that much trauma to this city, lived in my own house.” He clenched his fists, digging into his jean’s fabric. “I could barely believe it… no… I didn’t WANT to believe it.”

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I- I only remember snippets from right after his arrest. The police chief talking to me. Riding back to the station. It’s all a blur. Everything felt like I was processing it underwater. It was all so blurry and muffled. Even- even then, though, I could feel everyone’s accusing stares.” “I understand why, don’t get me wrong,” he cut in hurriedly. “Who wouldn’t be suspicious of the son of the terrorist who’s been making everyone’s life miserable for the past four years?” Adrien almost panted with exertion, his eyes wild. “And- and it was happening in my own house! Underneath my nose! I should have KNOWN! I could’ve stopped this!” 

Reaching out, Nino pulled his friend into a hug. 

Adrien stiffened for a moment, before melting into his embrace.

“It’s his fault, not yours,” Nino murmured. “Remember that, dude. He was the adult. He was your parent. Your ONLY remaining parent. I’ve met the guy. And I’ve heard you talk about what he’s like. If you had investigated more?” Nino shuddered, thinking about the disproportionate punishments the bastard had enacted. “And knowing he was HAWKMOTH on top of that? I’m kinda glad you didn’t. Yeah, maybe you could’ve ended things sooner. Or maybe he would’ve hurt you more before you had the chance. I’m just glad you survived.”

“I-” Adrien’s throat sounded tight. “I’m- I’m glad I survived too.”

They stood there for a moment, Nino feeling Adrien’s breath go in-and-out, his heartbeat racing, until it gradually started to slow.

*ring ring*

Adrien and Nino broke up their hug just as Marinette burst through the door, Alya on her heels. She skidded to a halt in front of Adrien - but not quite in time, sending her careening towards the floor.

She never made contact.

“Woah!” Adrien shouted, catching her in his arms.

Nino detected a hint of pink to Marinette’s cheeks before she abruptly sprang to her feet.

“So, uh,” Marinette said awkwardly. “I’m guessing Nino talked to you about some stuff. I mean, of course he talked to you about stuff, because that’s what talking is about. What- what I mean is, what were you two talking about?”

“I wanted to show him how much we care about him,” Nino told her. “Especially since with this… amnesia?”

“I think it’s an alternate timeline,” Alya said. 

“Especially since in this timeline,” Nino continued, “it really doesn’t seem like he had anyone.”

“I had a couple other friends,” Adrien told him quietly, giving a melancholic smile. “But I lost contact with them right after Hawkmoth’s defeat.”

Noticing Nino’s frown, he hastily added, “they didn’t abandon me or anything! They were online friends. One moved somewhere without internet reception, and the other... we never knew each other’s names. But we talked all the time. We chatted, laughed, defeated villains together…”

“In the video games we played, of course!” he added after a moment. He chuckled fondly. “We played as a team. Together, we were unstoppable, no matter what our opponent threw at us.”

Adrien swallowed. “But in the aftermath of Hawkmoth’s defeat, with all the turmoil, with everything that happened… I lost my means of contacting her. I- I don’t know whether I’ll ever get to see her again.”

“We’d promised to meet up after Hawkmoth’s defeat,” Adrien said. His voice cracked. “That- that once it was safer in Paris, we’d finally tell our names.”

His eyes dropped to the ground. “Instead, we lost each other. Maybe for good.”

“I know what that’s like,” Marinette said. She sounded strangely distant. “I had a friend like that too. I cared about him. A lot. Maybe… maybe even as more than a friend.” She said the last part haltingly, as if she’d only just admitted it to herself. “He- he wanted to know who I was. For me to know who he was. But- but I couldn’t do that. Not in Hawkmoth’s Paris. I already cared for him so much it ached. If I was closer to him than that- if I’d accepted his rose- I’m- I’m afraid Hawkmoth might’ve used the strength of those feelings against me. That I could’ve gotten akumatized, or he might’ve, and if we knew who each other was, knew WHERE the other one was… I just… I couldn’t accept that we might be sent to hurt each other.”

“We talked while the final battle was raging,” she continued. “He seemed really upset, more angry than I’ve ever seen him before, but… also kind of sad. I wanted to know what was wrong, but there wasn’t really time to press him. And after that battle he just… disappeared. I knew there was going to be some sort of disruption, but- but I’d thought we’d have more time to talk beforehand, that we’d be able to exchange new contact information. We were cut off before we had the chance.”

“I- I think of him every day,” she said quietly. “Wondering how he’s doing. He was always so positive, no matter what life threw at us. I hope that wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he hasn’t lost that positivity, that optimism, the ability to see the best in the world and in others.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to know you cared for him so much,” Adrien said, giving her a warm smile.

Marinette blinked, giving herself a small shake. She turned to Alya. “I dunno whether you’ll remember any of this after the Ladybug in your time restores anything, but on the off-chance you do, is there anything you need to know?”

“Oh!” Alya pulled up some footage. “You told me who Hawkmoth was, but what about Mayura?”

“Mayura?” 

“Who?”

Alya snapped her fingers. “You know, the Peacock Miraculous wielder, the one summoning the sentimonsters! Did she not exist in this universe?”

She pulled up part of the fight against Mayura, the sentimonster Ladybug, and Hawkmoth.

The video ended, she took another glance at Marinette and Adrien.

Marinette seemed to be in shock, staring straight ahead.

Adrien frowned, thinking. “I’d wondered for a long time how Father managed to hide his supervillain activities from Nathalie, considering she was around him most of the time. I thought maybe she was just really good at never asking questions.”

He grimaced. “Looking at that? I’m betting she didn’t ask questions because she already knew the answers.”

“You think Mayura’s Nathalie?” Alya questioned.

He nodded. “Unless something’s different in your universe. My father doesn’t have a lot of associates, and the way he acted around Mayura there, how he was willing to pass up a chance to fight Ladybug for her Miraculous in exchange for catching her… the only people I can think of who he’d do that for are my mother and Nathalie, and mom…” he trailed off.

“I- I didn’t even think about that,” Marinette said guiltily. “I remember reading something about Gabriel having a secretary, but I didn’t think about her much beyond that.”

“Maybe you could ask this universe’s Alya to post something on the Ladyblog, telling Ladybug and Chat Noir she has a lead on who Mayura is?” Alya said. “I mean, I know they haven’t shown up in ages, but maybe that’s just because they haven’t had reason to.”

Marinette winced. “I… really don’t think that’s it… plus Ladybug and Chat Noir never said that someone was helping Hawkmoth. Mayura never appeared, at least in public. I don’t know what we can do about this right now, especially without proof. Maybe if Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared, but…”

She sounded doubtful. Alya was beginning to think that the final battle was even worse than Marinette had alluded to.

She hesitated a moment, before turning to Adrien. “I- I think I owe you an apology. I thought you might’ve been helping Hawkmoth, but… well… I was just judging you by who your dad was. You’ve been nothing but sweet and kind.”

Adrien smiled at her, though it was slightly strained. “It’s fine. I’m used to it. A lot of people in this city have suffered at Hawkmoth’s hands. I don’t blame them for being scared, or angry at any reminders of him.”

“That doesn’t make it RIGHT,” Marinette said heatedly.

Nino nodded. “Dude just because something’s done to you it doesn’t mean it’s justified, or that it shouldn’t be made better. Like with your old man forbidding parties. I didn’t let that stop me from bribing your bodyguard into letting me and the other guys throw a party at your place for you!”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It kinda escalated though. I think half the guys at Paris were partying in your room by the end!”

Alya gave Nino a sideways look. “And ONLY the guys because they ditched us girls while we were planting trees with a lame excuse. Seriously if you’d said you wanted to throw a party for Adrien while his dad was away, you could’ve just told us!”

Nino winced. “Yeah, my bad. At least we got to have fun there for a while before the akuma attack.”

“Akuma attack?” Adrien asked, eyes wide. “But I thought you said Father was gone!”

“He was- OOOOOOOH.”

“Yeeaaaah I don’t think he was actually gone,” Alya said. “You threw a ‘secret’ party in Hawkmoth’s house, WHILE he was still at home.”

Adrien gaped at Nino. “How’re you not DEAD?!”

Nino chuckled. “Lucky I guess?”

*twinkle twinkle*

A familiar red mass flew towards Alya and Nino.

Adrien’s eyes widened. 

“Behind the portrait!” he blurted out, just as the two of them were enveloped by the ladybugs, spiriting them off to whence they came.

It was silent for a moment.

“Do you think they heard?” Adrien asked Marinette.

“I hope so,” she said, looking off in the direction the ladybugs flew.

She turned to him. “I was planning on setting up some hang out time with Alya and Nino later this week. If you’re not busy… would you like to join?”

His smile told her everything she needed to know.

[davidlikesguys02]

We Interrupt This Program

M/n= Male Name 

Bold- Means its on a tv screen. 

GIF Not mine

Word count: 2,932

“No, I can't leave Monica.” “mom? It's ok, I can stay with grandma and…” “I can't leave” “maybe I'll build a spaceship. I wanna be an aircraft pilot.” “when they were handing out kids they gave her the toughest one. Lieutenant trouble.” Monica wakes up breathing heavily and hearing crashing and people screaming as she makes her way towards the door and walks out. “Excuse me….” “they're all coming back. We don't have the capacity” the doctor tells her

“Excuse me. I'm looking for a patient. In room 104…” she asks a nurse “who, my wife? Do you have a phone?” “no” “i have to call my wife.” she makes her way towards the front desk “watch out” she bumps into a man, they both fall backwards grunting “let me help you. Are you ok? You ok?” “I got him. I got him.” “Are you ok?” she asks as she gets up groaning. She turns to the lady in the front desk.

“Excuse me. I'm looking for a patient in room number 104.” “I don't know what to tell you” she starts looking around her “Monica?” “oh, Dr. Highland, thank god!” “I can't believe it, where did you go?” “well, in her room since she came back from the surgery. I mean, I might have fallen asleep, but no longer than 20 minutes. Dr. Highland, where's my mom?” “your mom, she died honey” “what? No, no, no, no you're mistaken. My mother...the procedure went well. You said so yourself. Clean margins. You’re discharging her today”

“The cancer came back.” “Okay, stop, stop. No youre...my mom is Maria Rambeau. Look it up. I mean look it up. Maria Rambeau.” “Monica, I don't understand what's happening, but you need to listen to me Marian died three years ago.” “three? No. no. no…” “which was two years after you…” “after i what? After what?” “after you disappeared.”

Monica is walking towards big metal doors. She takes out her keycards but it beeps so she tries again but it beeped again “Ma’am? Over here please” she walked over to him smiling “hi, good morning. I work here. And…” “if you did, your badge would work, wouldn't it?” “right um… I have a meeting with…” “hey. You know who this is?” “..this guy” “Captain Monica Rambeau.” “Director Tyler Hayward”

“Acting Director. You haven't aged a day” “and you look old as hell” Tyler chuckles “come on, let's catch you up. It's been three weeks and you're the first to report. Cant say I'm surprised captain.” “How are the numbers for the astronaut training program?” “ Dismal. Lost half my personnel in The Blip and half of those remaining have lost their nerve. The program hasn't been the same since you've been up there, Rambeau. We shifted away from manned missions and refocused on robotics, nanotech, AI. Sentient Weapons, like it says on the door.”

“It also says observation and response on that door, not creation” “worlds not the same as you left it. Space is now full of unexpected threats” “always was full of threats. And allies” “Listen, Monica, I just wanna acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation. I know S.W.O.R.D.'s your home. Your mom built this place from the ground up. You grew up here. You should've been here to help name the replacement.” “you were the obvious choice”

“I was the only choice.” “I wasn't gonna say it. Look, Tyler, you know the job you have to do. I'm here to do mine.” ”Let's get you back out there.” he takes out his keycard and opens the door to his office. “The FBI is in a tizzy over missing persons case up in Jersey…” “missing persons?” “I know. But they have requested use of one of our imaging drones, and I need a chaperone.”

“Tyler, drones usually chaperone me.” “i get it” “look, if this is because of...you don't have to worry about me. I'm good.” “There's no easy way to say this, but you're grounded.” Monica chuckles “you're kidding. For how long? Who whose protocol is this?” “Your mother's. She implemented guidelines in the event vanished personnel ever returned. Look, I know it's a raw deal, but there is one positive takeaway.” “what's that?” “she believed you'd come back. You'd be doing me a big favor with this FBI thing, but if you need more time…”

“No. no. I'm good to go” “excellent. Keep me updated, captain.” Monica finally arrived at Westview “James E. Woo, FBI” “Monica Rambeau, S.W.O.R.D. what's the story here, agent woo?” “I've got a witness setup down the road in Westview, and this morning, it looked like he flew the coop?” “Your missing person is in the witness protection program?”

“I have contacted known associates, relatives…” “and let me guess, none of them have seen him either?” “No. None of them have ever heard of him. Something seemed hanky to me, so I took the first flight out of Oakland to interface with local law enforcement, which is when I encountered a new wrinkle.” “what's that?” “Pardon me, Sheriff. Would you mind repeating your claim about Westview to my colleague here?” “no such place” “you're saying the town of Westview, New Jersey, does not exist?”

“It's what I keep telling your G-man here, but he won't listen.” “I see. and , um, I'm sorry, what town are you from?” “Eastview” “Thank you, Sheriff. I'll reach out if we need any further assistance. I, uh, pulled phone numbers for all the residents. I'm only through the D’s, but so far I got Diddly Squat.” “So you can't reach anyone inside and everyone on the outside has some sort of selective amnesia?”

“This isn't a missing person's case, Captain Rambeau, it's a missing town. Population: 3,892.” “Why haven't you gone inside to investigate?” “Cause it doesn't want me to. You can feel it too, can't you? Nobody's supposed to go in.” Monica walks over to her car and pulls out a drone. “What about you?” “Me? Well, I'm from Bakersfield, originally. Growing up, other kids had Michael Jordan posters on their walls, but I had Eliot Ness.”

“No, no, no, no. I mean, why is it that you have an awareness of Westview? Or me, for that matter? Is it because we are outside of a certain radius, or maybe because we don't have a personal connection?” She looks at the screen but the drone malfunctions. She looks up and it's gone “Wait, where'd it go?” “It was right there.” she walk towards the town but stops as she hears electricity bussing “whoa..”

“What is it?” “some sort of energy field” “Careful, Rambeau. Captain Rambeau! Watch it. Rambeau! Captain Rambeau! Captain Rambeau!” she sticks her hand in and it pulls her in and she disappears.

24 Hours Later

“Hey. What's your field?” “We're not supposed to talk to each other.” “hmm? Boy scout leader. Got it. And you” Darcy asked a woman next to the boy scout leader. “Nuclear biology” “artificial intelligence” “astrophysics. We got the full clown car. It means whatever the threat is, S.W.O.R.D. clearly has no idea what they're dealing with.” “I'm a chemical engineer” “no one cares”

“Alright grab your gear.” Darcy walks around the S.W.O.R.D. camp. “Ms. Lewis?” “Dr.Lewis” “we have your gear set up inside.” the man walks Darcy inside a tent “those drones you're sending in, what kind of data are you getting?” “I'm afraid that is highly classified.” “You can't see anything? FBI, Army. I saw the Air Force Office of Special Investigations out there. Research Lab, Space Command, too. A bona fide, joint, multi-service response. Really looking forward to the commemorative T-shirt. Is there somewhere a lady could get a cup of coffee? You guys look like you might get down with those little pod things. Horrendous for the environment…”

“Make your assessment, please” “whoa… I mean, whoa..” “what are you getting?” “a colossal amount of CMBR” “CM…” “Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation.” “we've been told the radiation is within a safe limit” “uh, it is… for now” “wait what do you mean” Darcy shushes the man “there's are longer wavelength superimposed over the noise here” she looks under the desk and struggles to get something “I got it”

“I need a TV. an old one. Like, not flat.” After a few hours it started raining. “Are you good to go?” Hayward asked an agent “yes, sir” “these sewers will take you straight into town. Try to find anything you can on Rambeau” “copy that” “keep me updated” Hayward says as he walks away. “Director Hayward, between you, me, and the bedpost, I am not confident about this mission.” “Thanks for the feedback, Jimmy. If only my drones were as forthcoming.”

“There's no reason to suspect the perimeter doesn't extend subterraneous.” “There's no reason to suspect it does.” Jimmy sighs “We don't know enough about the nature of the threat to send in another agent when the first is yet to return.” “Someone must really miss you back in Quantico.” “No, sir. Softball season's over, sir.” “what do we have up?” Hayward asked agent Rodriguez “Radar, sonar, infrared” “cycle through. Will someone get me a useful visual, dammit?”

Everyone hears a studio audience laughing in the tent “what is that?” “Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” “Who is doing that?” “Who are those people?” “What are you wearing?” “Why are they here?” “Well, it's our anniversary!” “our anniversary of what?” “Well, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!” “is that..” “ yeah, it looks like him.” “you move at the speed of sound and i can make a pen float through the air, who needs to abbreviate?”

“Look , I know it's been a crazy few years on this planet, but he's dead, right? Not blipped, dead.” “excellent plan. Where's the tenderizer” “what am I looking at? You? What is that? Where's this coming from?” “out there” “you didn’t answer the back door. For your upside-down cake. oh hi, I” “is it authentic?” “I'm not sure how to answer that” “is it happening in real time? Is it recorded, fabricated?” “I don't know. I don't know. And I don't know” “what do you know?” Hayward said annoyed “My equipment registered an extremely high level of CMBR. That's…”

“Relic radiation dating back to the Big Bang.” “Yeah, entwined was a broadcast frequency. So I had your goons pick me up a sweet vintage TV. And when I plug this bad boy in, voilà, sound and picture.” “Dinner is served” “So you're saying the universe created a sitcom starring two Avengers?” Jimmy asked, confused “It's a working theory” “Get me a transport back to headquarters now. Are we recording this?”

“Never stopped.” Darcy says “I need immediate analysis. Now, people. Let's go!” “He’s a charmer.” “great work” “hey, thanks, maybe I could get that cup of coffee now? Or not. It's cool.” ”Aw” Darcy turns to the screen to see you and Vision kissing “Aw”

“First and foremost, our main objective is to get any intel on Captain Rambeau, but originally, this case was a missing person, so we're going to start there. We've successfully identified two individuals inside the Westview anomaly. Let's keep going.” Jimmy says as he puts two pictures up of you and Vision. “This guest is leaving your home” “yes, thank you for coming” “Mr. and Mrs. Hart. played by Todd and Sharon Davis.”

“Computational forms. And no one can process the data quite like you do, pal.” “Agent Woo” “you're like a walking computer.” “Abilash Tandon is Norm” “Harold Proctor is Jones” “we got Isabel Matsueida cast as Beverly” “John Collins as Herb.” Darcy gasps, dropping her Noodle cup and calls Jimmy over “Really?” “Does she seem okay to you?” “Well, she doesn't appear to be harmed in any way, but that is definitely not the boss lady I met yesterday.”

“So what, deep cover? Monica has to play along?” “With whom? Or else, what? All right. Brass tacks, Dr. Lewis. What are we looking at here? Is it an alternate reality? Time travel? Some cockamamie social experiment?” “It's a sitcom. A 1950s sitcom.” “But why?”

“Hey, man, we're working with the same scarcity of intel. But, listen, I do have an idea. So, you've seen that radio in M/n’s kitchen counter, right? The next time he's washing dishes, which, by my count, happens about once an episode, barf, we'll shoot a signal to that little guy. This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast, and if my theory is right, allow us to speak directly to her. This is totally gonna work. Don't touch that.”

“Agent Woo.” agent Rodrigues hands Jimmy a folder inside the folder there's a colored image of a retro S.W.O.R.D. drone “Is this from the current episode?” “aired about two minutes ago.” “What is it?” Darcy asks “what does it look like to you?” “like a retro version of a S.W.OR.D. drone?” “bingo” “but how did it change and why” “uh, to go with the production design” “or render it useless”

“why‘d you colorize it?” “I didn't” Darcy heads back to the tent. “Let's get this show on the road. Jimmy, you ready?” Darcy asks through an earpiece. “Ready” “bigger and better every season” “uh, Jimmy, Monica is talking to M/n. she's got a speaking part now.” “what is she saying?” “those jeans are peachy keen” “she likes M/n’s jeans” “we only have a few hours” “M/n’s at some sort of swim club. We've never been here before.”

“Is it the 60’s still?” “uh, uh, M/n’s with another character.” “real person?” “ohh, uh, radio on the side table. start talking.” “M/n. M/n, can you read me over?” “I don't...” “Can he hear me?” “I don't think so, keep trying.” “M/n?” “M/n?” “M/n. Who is doing this to you, M/n? M/n? Can you hear me? I'm here to help” “please give us a…” “pop quiz M/n how does a housewife or in this case househusband get a bloodstain out of white linen?”

“Wait” “what?” “I don't know” “by doing it yourself” “that's weird” “what was?” “Nothing, it's over. Mission failure” “it was worth a try. Good effort, doctor.” “yeah come in”

Both Jimmy and Darcy are watching you and Vision on TV “darling, do you think it's time to..” “call the doctor?” “yeah” “yes, I do dear” “1950s, 1960s, and now the '70s. Why does it keep switching time periods? It can't be purely for my enjoyment, can it?” “I cant believe M/n and Vision are having a baby” “you want any?” Jimmy chuckles

“Heck, I thought about it for sure. A little Jimmy Woo. Get him a tiny little FBI badge. Oh, you... Chip? Sure.” “you're doing great. You're doing great. Look at me. Look at me.” “The jig is up” you scream. After a few minutes you hear the baby cry “hi, oh, he's perfect” “what a twist.” Darcy says as she's tearing up “What? I'm invested” “he was killed by Ultron, wasn't he?” “Did she just say the name Ultron? Has that ever happened before? A reference to our reality.”

“No never” “hey I'll take a shift rocking the babies” “no I think you should leave” “oh, M/n, don't be like that” “who are you?” “M/n” “wow this is different” The Tv cuts and Monica is gone “what happened? Where she go?” “god not again” Darcy replays the footage back “who are you?” “M/n” “there's nothing here. One second, Monica is standing right there, and the next she isn’t. Someone is censoring the broadcast.”

“But where's Rambeau?” they suddenly both hear the alarm “Alert! Boundary has been breached! Alert! Boundary has been breached!”

Inside Westview

“Who are you?” “I don't..” you walk closer to her “who are you?” “M/n i'm just your neighbor.” “Then how did you know about Ultron?” you start to see the familiar red glow around your hands “You're not my neighbor. And you're definitely not my friend. You are a stranger and an outsider. And right now, you are trespassing here. And I want you to leave.”

Your familiar red glow wraps around Monica Sending her back through every wall and fence. You gulp “I… I…” you raise your hands and start to fix the hole on the wall as if it never happened. You walk over to your babies hearing them “M/n?” Vision comes in through the door turning back to his synthezoid form “where is Geraldine?” “oh she left honey. She had to rush home”

You turn around to look at Vision and you gasp making you look down “what? What is it? What's wrong?” Vision asks you concerned “Uh..” you slowly look up at him and see that he looks normal again “we don't have to stay here. We could go wherever we want” Vision tells you “no, we can't. This is our home” you move your hand to crease his cheek and he holds onto your hand “are you use”

“oh, don't worry darling. I have everything under control.” you walk over and grab Tommy “oh hi” you turn to Vision smiling “what should we watch tonight?” you walk over to the sofa, Vision sits next to you. He puts an arm around you.

Outside of Westview

“Monica, are you okay?” “it's M/n. its all M/n”

[vs-redemption]

Omg can I get scenarios about how you think Fatgum and Mirio would react if they found out that their crush thought they didn’t like them?? 😭😭 ty!!!!! ❤️

From Cindy: Wowzer! I really liked this request but it took me a couple days to get some ideas worked out in my head. I’m happy with the way they turned out, and I hope you are too anon!!

A Crush?! (Fatgum x Reader) and (Mirio x Reader)

FATGUM

When Taishiro Toyomitsu first opened his hero agency in the lively city of Osaka, his first priority had been to hire a cook to work there. Because his quirk relied heavily on the amount of fat stored up in his body, it was important to have a constant source of food available. Snacks and small meals between and during patrols did little to keep him fully powered, so finding someone who could meet his extreme dietary needs was of the upmost importance.

The first few people he’d brought onto his team hadn’t worked out so well. Even though he had no complaints about their food, they just couldn’t seem to keep up with his immense appetite. They got too caught up in the presentation, plus the portions were just too small. When the BMI hero finally hired you right out of culinary school, he was relieved to find your approach to his food conundrum much more satisfying.

He never had to worry about going hungry when he got into his agency anymore. Not only did you made sure there was plenty of food readily available for him, but you also kept his diet balanced with healthy foods that contained enough calories to fatten him up for his patrols. The food itself kept Taishiro’s stomach happy and full, but the effort and care you put into your work definitely started having an effect on his heart too after a while. Your dedication to keeping him in top shape drew his attention until he found himself starting to look forward more to seeing and talking to you than even eating your delicious food.

Taishiro wasn’t the type to lie to himself about his feelings. He knew perfectly well that he’d developed a little crush on you. He wasn’t exactly sure how to go about confessing though, or if he even should. His schedule didn’t leave much time for dating, and he didn’t want to start something if he wasn’t going to be able to dote on you the way he was starting to desperately want to.

Little did he know, on the other side of things, you were struggling to deal with the feelings you had for him too. You had always thought your boss was a nice guy, but after seeing his jolly and friendly behavior every day, you couldn’t help the crush that had creeped up on you. You tried your best to put it out of your mind, assuming there was no way a great hero like Taishiro could return your feelings. It wasn’t as if he did anything to make you feel otherwise. He was as kind and encouraging to you as anyone else you’d seen him interact with. It was just that you knew the nature of your job made your personality come off a bit too overbearing to really spark a romance. You constantly berated yourself after each and every interaction you had with him, physically cringing as you remembered the nagging comments you’d made.

“I know you need the calories for your quirk, Taishiro, but don’t forget to eat some fruits and vegetables too.”

“Eat another bowl of rice, Taishiro. You never know when you’ll need that little extra push when fighting a villain.”

“Taishiro, don’t forget to take the leftovers with you in case you get hungry out there! It’s better for you than all that street food you’re always picking up on patrol.”

When you thought about it, you really pestered him way too much. Sure, it was your job to feed him, but still, he was a grown man. He didn’t need you bothering or lecturing like he was some kind of kid. The only reason you even acted the way you did was because you cared and worried about him, but how it came across was probably annoying and patronizing. This is why you were confident he’d never like you the way you liked him.

Eventually, the combination of your feelings for him and the concern over his impression of you becomes too much and you decide to confront him. You get to the agency early one day and make him some fresh jelly filled donuts.

“Hey! You hardly ever make stuff like this!” Taishiro chuckles, “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s my way of saying thank you for putting up with me,” you shrug awkwardly. “I know I’m a bit of a nag sometimes.” Your words take the hero by surprise.

“I don’t think you’re a nag at all!” He sounded upset to hear you say that. “I hope I never gave you the idea that I did.”

“No,” you shake your head. “You didn’t… I just figured you were nice to me just to be polite.”

“What?” Taishiro shakes his head, “You couldn’t be further from the truth. If I’m being honest, I’ve actually developed quite the soft spot for you.” You look up into his eyes, a feeling of hope spreading through you.

“Yeah,” Taishiro laughs and scratches the back of his head bashfully. “I guess you could say I have a bit of a crush on you.” The conversation had definitely taken an unexpected turn, and you couldn’t be happier.

“I…” You hesitate for a moment but then give in. “I have a crush on you too! I have for a while. I never dreamed you could feel the same way.” The smile that stretched across the hero’s face warmed your heart.

“How could I not feel the same way?” He chuckles while patting his large belly. “I’ve never met anyone else who could keep both my stomach and my heart so full.” His words were music to your ears. And now that you both were on the same page about your feelings, you could sit down together and start discussing important questions about the future, like where he was going to take you on your first date.

 MIRIO

 Getting a job as a server at the mundane little diner on the outskirts of town had only meant to be a temporary gig to help you save up some extra money for school. Your campus was just a short train ride from the restaurant, and your apartment was even closer. It wasn’t glamorous or anything, but it paid the bills. Besides, it was just a stepping stone in the path to your dream job, so you were more than willing to deal with it until a bigger more fulfilling opportunity came along.

 What you hadn’t expected after starting the job was that you’d be terrible at it. You didn’t realized how bad your short term memory was until you found yourself forgetting people’s orders, or taking meals to the wrong tables. If that wasn’t bad enough, you also had a hard time balancing plates of food and were always dropping glasses and silverware accidentally. Luckily, your boss was a pretty chill and forgiving person and hadn’t felt the need to fire you yet. You really didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding another job, so you continued doing the best you could each and every day.

A few weeks after being hired, you started to feel the tiniest bit more confident about your abilities as a server. At the very least, you were getting better at remembering orders. Thankfully, there were a lot of regulars that got the same things every time which made your job easier. You were just starting to get into a comfortable routine when life decided to throw you a curveball. There was no way you could stop yourself from tripping over your own feet and almost spilling some poor customers breakfast all over the floor when you saw the pro hero, Le Million, walk into the diner with one of his hero friends. Thankfully you managed not to fall on your face or drop any food. Your relief was short lived, however, when Le Million walked right over and took a seat at a table in your section.

You knew it was going to be a disaster as soon as you walked over and forgot what you should even do. Being so close to Le Million was triggering a meltdown in your brain. He was your favorite hero and you honestly had a huge crush on him. Having him looking right at you with those cheerful blue eyes and wide friendly smile was extremely overwhelming.

“Uh…” You stood there blankly with the pen and pad in your hand.

“I think we’re going to start with something to drink!” Le Million speaks up with a light laugh which sparks you back to life.

“Ok, right!” you shake your head and try to focus. “What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have coffee,” he says before gesturing to his companion. “I think you usually take hot green tea right?” The friend nods so you write the order down.

“A hot green tea and a coffee for Le Million,” you mumble without meaning to.

“Oh, I’m on my lunch break!” he corrects you with a grin. “So, you can call me Mirio.”

“Right,” you nod excitedly. “Mirio”

You do your best to function as you continue to serve him. You somehow bring black tea instead of green, but Mirio just waves off the mistake with a wave of his hand. You swear you write down the correct order for him word for word, but humiliation consumes you when his friend points out that there were tomatoes on his hamburger even though he’d asked for none. You offer to bring him a new plate but he tells you it’s unnecessary. He doesn’t even pick off the tomatoes before taking a huge bite.

When Mirio and his friend finally leave, you feel yourself deflate. You were thankful the embarrassing experience was over, but part of you wished you’d made a better impression. The universe must’ve been out for you because the next day, it decided to grace you with a second chance. Mirio walked back into your diner with his friend, taking the same table as the day before. You tried to do a better job at serving him this time but you still fumbled a few things. This continued for a few weeks. For some reason, Mirio kept coming back and sitting in your section. You had no idea why since he must be sick of your horrible service by now. You tried to think of a logical explanation for a while, but always came up empty.

“Um, Mirio,” you tell him one day as he hands you the money to pay for his bill. “I know I’m not the best server in the world, so you don’t have to sit in my section every time.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to talk to you!” Mirio replies instantly, looking taken aback by your words.

“Oh,” you hadn’t expected a response like that. “But I always mess up your order.”

“That’s all right!” Mirio perks back up, “As long as you keep doing your best, that’s what matters! Plus, I’ve been sort of biding my time, looking for the right moment to ask for your number. I think you’re really cute.” He winces a little bit as if preparing for rejection. The confession startles you and you somehow end up missing his hand while giving back his change, causing coins to scatter across the counter. Mirio just smiles and helps you pick it all up.

“I can really give you my number?” you ask in shock once the money is back in his hands.

“Yeah!” He assures you, “As long as I’m allowed to call it!” You felt yourself blush, but managed to stay calm enough to grab a napkin and scribble your number down. Mirio thanked you before heading out with his hero friend to go back on patrol. It was less than a minute later when your phone buzzed in your pocket with a message from your hero crush.

It said, “I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow!”

You’re still in a state of shock as you hug your phone to your chest. You’d initially taken the diner job as a way to save money for school, but maybe fate had brought you here for something else entirely.

[yan-twst]

Omg i loveee your Yandere headcanons! May i request some general yandere relationship headcanons for the Vice dorm leaders? Sfw and nsfw for the 3rd year ones(Trey , Lilia and Rook)? ✧\(>o

warning: general yandere content, nsfw under cut (contains dubcon [although it’s not heavily implied nor explored, and it’s never stated that consent was not given, it’s still uh... yan nsfw so it is what it is], mentions of drugs)

trey clover

already written! can be found here: [link]

ruggie bucchi

ruggie is greedy with his darling

it’s just, he rarely gets to have things for himself- he’s so used to having to scrounge up scraps, to hand-me-downs, that finally having something (or someone) that’s entirely his just... drives him a bit nuts

if his darling is weak and docile, ruggie will take on a more dominating role, but if they’re more feisty and confident, ruggie can also be incredibly desperate and almost... meek? male hyenas are naturally submissive in nature; if his darling can activate that natural instinct in him, he’ll melt like putty in their hands

hyenas will break even the bones for sustenance; ruggie has no trouble getting his hands dirty if it’s for his darling, and that’s part of what makes him so terrifying. violence? underhanded methods? please, that’s child’s play for a slum cat like him, really

despite usually being quite careful with his money, ruggie will dote and try to spoil his darling as much as he can. he sees this as the ultimate form of affection- money is hard to come by, so spending it on gifts for his darling... well, that’s gotta be the most romantic thing, right?

as much as he likes to play rough from time to time, he’s also a sucker for spending quiet moments with his darling, especially when he’s tired after work. if his darling acts nice, he’ll be sweet as sugar (with some teasing here and there, of course); make him angry, and they better be ready to have a “little accident” that may leave them bedridden for a few weeks...

jade leech

people are usually less scared of jade than they are of floyd- which really isn’t of much use. jade is equally, if not more sadistic than his twin; he just hides it better. and that’s dangerous

sure, he might not be azul and can’t trick his darling into signing their freedom and life away, but he can still keep them where he wants them. pressing their deepest fears and insecurities out of them isn’t a struggle- and he knows just how to use that info to his favour

jade will be very careful on how he approaches the ordeal of breaking his darling into being perfectly docile and calm at his side. he’ll get them to associate pain and coldness with the outside, and he’ll mark himself as comfort, warmth, everything good.

this isn’t to say he won’t be rough. far from it, really. jade may act like a gentleman, but it’s absolutely clear he finds entertainment in punishing his darling

and yet, he’s there to comfort them the second it’s over: oh, poor thing, they’re crying... did it hurt? oh, it must have, hm? would they like a cold compress? he’d hate for their skin to bruise... perhaps some balms? there, he’ll run a warm bath for them- let him escort them to the bathroom. they wouldn’t be thinking of trying to run away after this, would they?

even if his darling is dead-set on trying to escape and hating him, this is something that he will win no matter what. the mind can be bent and manipulated: and over time, his darling will realize (to their horror), that anxiety begins to build when jade’s away, that they only feel truly safe in his arms...

jamil viper

jamil’s whole life has been giving. give the asim family his services, give his parents the assurance he’d do as he was asked, give kalim the spotlight, give, give, give. so when jamil can finally take, he makes sure that what he wants is truly his

with his unique magic, it’s really no hassle to just take his darling and lock them up wherever with no hassle, but... that’s almost too easy. he knows best that the most satisfying results come after hard work

jamil revels in earning his darling’s trust. oh, so naive, to befriend him so easily. don’t they find it suspicious how he’s usually so abrasive to other people, but so nice to them? do they really think everyone who approaches them has good intentions? 

getting close to his darling also means separating them from others. he has no qualms in using his magic to stir up conflict- how weird, that all of his darling’s friends suddenly had a big fallout that nobody can seem to find the cause of, huh? well, at least he’s still there, right? he’s their only real friend it seems!

he’s fantasized about kalim’s betrayed and crushed face for years when he finally revealed his hatred- of course, that was... a bit ruined, since he overblotted and all. but it’s equally as delicious to see his darling’s horrified and betrayed face once he shows his true colors, once they can’t run away

jamil has no issue in keeping his darling under snake’s whisper for long periods of time. he’s incredibly talented, after all. however, he won’t keep it on always: he does want them to stop trying to escape even when they aren’t under his spell

his ultimate goal is for his darling to obey his every word without him even needing his spell. he does love them, after all: it just feels all that more genuine to receive a kiss from someone not being controlled by magic (even if they’re being driven by fear of punishment)

rook hunt

rook adores romance. he’s read poems about great men falling from their power because of their hearts, of longings so desperate the poets feel like they might really die of yearning- and to finally feel that himself... it’s so intoxicating, really. he understands now, how greedily the heart aches for the one it wants

he’ll take his sweet time. observing, watching his darling from a distance. rook sees beauty in boring, everyday things- his darling’s bedhead, the way they snuggle into pillows at night, how they twirl a pen in their hand when studying, the way they fold their clothes... he watches it all, and falls into obsession a bit more every time

rook might come off as a bit overwhelming at first, when he does approach his darling. he... seems to have very little shame and a lot of interest, but it’s charming, at first. he likes to snatch his darling away on romantic lunches, leaving them poems in their desk: it’s romantic at first. others see it as a very sweet move in rook’s part, even if it freaks his darling out quite a bit just... how much he seems to know about them

it isn’t surprising to anyone, but rook enjoys a good chase. when his darling is finally freaked out enough to try avoiding him and somehow he keeps showing up, when not even locking the doors seems to be enough, when they’re running and crying through a dark forest in some vague hopes of losing him, rook feels more alive than ever

he’ll keep his darling by his side, but he doesn’t mind letting them slip from time to time just to hunt them down. he sees it as fun, even if he might get angry if it’s a bit too much of a common occurrence. he loves his petit lapin, but they better not test him too much, hm?

lilia vanrouge

he’ll be quite playful at first, popping out from the ceiling upside down to scare his darling, telling them stories about baby silver and whatnot. but he’ll also make sure to make himself a reliable figure, someone they can turn to for advice and help

he’s so fun and looks so cute, his darling won’t even realize how he’s sneakily working behind the scenes. slowly isolated from their friends, being fed “advice” that simply drives them into his territory- lilia exells at doing all of this without his beloved even realizing he’s up to something

he’s patient- he’s lived for so long, charming his darling over months is absolutely nothing. before they’ve realized, their only companions are lilia and his trusted diasomnia members; and by then, it’s too late. lilia can snatch them up and do as he pleases: his dorm members might even aid him if he asks

he’s got a sadistic streak, so he’ll purposefully egg his darling to do things he’ll punish them for. lilia will let his darling think he missed locking the door, or accidentally left a weapon laying around- but of course it wasn’t an accident, and now he gets to punish them

at the same time, he’s got an oddly nurturing side to him. he can’t help but see his darling as a weak and adorable thing, compared to him: he’ll coo over them and hold them close, insisting on helping them with simple things. he’ll also try to force them into a parental role on his little makeshift family- but of course, they don’t get any of the responsibilities that come with it... it feels like playing house, almost: a horrible, painful game of house that never ends

NSFW (under cut)

trey clover

he isn’t very forceful, really. trey’s libido isn’t low by any means, but it’s not like, ridiculously high anyways. still, he has no trouble just jerking himself off right next to his darling in bed; well, if they don’t want to help, then they’ll have to watch.

still, he isn’t above slipping aphrodisiacs into food. it’s not even hard- doodle suit can cover up any bitter medicinal tastes, and he gets to have his darling melt into his touch and beg for him. yup, he adores that

he’s in charge, always. despite not really needing restraints or punishment to have his darling indulge him- really, he’s got them so... trained that his words are enough, he’s still very much so into tying them up

trey will degrade his darling when he’s in a bad mood and also horny. it’s a shocking change of pace: usually he’s all sweets and love, and then he’s growling into their ear how much of a whore they are, look, their body is basically trained to react to his touch, don’t they have any shame? 

he might not be pushy when it comes to this sort of intimacy, something not all yanderes share, but that doesn’t mean he’s not rough when he does get to fuck his darling. he enjoys leaving marks all over them- also being marked up, too.

trey will make his darling beg. he knows damn well that this relationship isn’t normal, but fuck it, he can almost believe his darling is with him of their own accord when they beg for him to just please fuck them please, please- he doesn’t particularly mind it’s probably their mind turned to mush after hours of edging, or the aphrodisiac he put into their cookies

rook hunt

for all his creepy stalking and his obsession with his darling, sex with a very obsessed and protective rook is usually... romantic. soft, even. he’ll light candles and be gentle- romance, love... it’s almost like a scene taken right out of a cheesy adult romance novel. it’s romantic and thoughtful enough his darling can truly forget, for a second, he’s essentially their captor

well, it’s that way... for the most part

rile him up enough and he’ll snap. he cares for romance, yes, but do you know what he also cares for? fucking his darling in whatever piece of furniture because he’s at the end of his patience and they’re just so tempting

he’ll mess with love potions and aphrodisiacs, or any other spell he comes across with, but it’s not that common. he prefers to make his darling writhe under him without those things- it feels more like an achievement. feels more like love

it may seem uncharacteristic of a pomefiore student, but he’ll demand to have love bites or scratches left on him. he won’t even ask to cover his darling in hickeys. he sees it as part of the “natural beauty” he covets so much, evidence of love, affection... obsession

if he’s chasing down his darling, all that adrenaline will go straight to his cock once he’s finally caught them. he doesn’t particularly care it’s the middle of a dark forest- he really might just tear his darling’s clothes apart and take them right then, the adrenaline and rush from the chase driving him on

lilia vanrouge

yandere lilia nsfw headcanons were written already, can be found here: [link]

[hajimewhore]

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 2.7k words  ➷Humor, fluff, angst, awkwardness, pining, swearing, my tendency to write introspective, the usual stuff in here  ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, ✈Part 6, Part 7

“Hajime, let’s walk together without Tooru.”

You hear a voice call out to you the second you step out of the gym. The abrupt call startles you when you register it’s your own voice—it feels a tad cryptic, considering you’re still not used to hearing it unless it’s coming from you. 

Hajime is glancing around, keeping his voice low, clearly wary of any prying ears or casual listeners. 

“Huh? Yeah, alright.”

You jog up to his side, exiting the school grounds with him. A worry creeps in your gut, but you push it aside to hear what he has to say first. No use getting anxious when he hasn’t even said anything yet.

It’s interesting, your strides are much longer than you’re used to, so you have to actively think about matching your pace with Hajime’s currently shorter legs (you hate to call your legs short, but there is an obvious comparison). 

It’s something you never worried about before, considering you were always the one surrounded by long-legged bastards, but it has you thinking that Hajime must’ve always consciously walked in step with you. Even Tooru tended to take long strides (as if he were the main character in an anime, leading the way for the extras). 

You try to quell the metaphorical butterflies that are making themselves at home inside your ribcage, but it’s rapidly replacing the anxiety that was stirring from Hajime’s abrupt request. 

You’re supposed to be serious right now. You can’t be caught up with how sweet and caring Hajime is, even though he doesn’t voice it and generally has an attitude that needs minor adjustment, but you’re constantly reminded every day how his love language is more about acts of service and silent gestures with no intent for acknowledgement and—

“What’s up?”

You say with as much nonchalance as you can muster, it’s best to cut that train of thought off, especially when said train is being directed by Iwaizumi Hajime—not only filling your brain but the space directly next to you. 

You can only assume there’s something pressing he wanted to talk about, maybe practice, judging by his sour expression. Not that he doesn’t always have that expression, but lately he’s been more conscious of the faces he makes in your body. There must be something gnawing at him to let that slip. 

But if you’re being completely honest, you’d rather not think about practice after the shit show of a performance you had earlier. 

“Something…” he pauses, not quite sure how to phrase it, “weird, happened. And I really don’t want to talk about it, but you should know.”

Hajime looks highly agitated, and very uncomfortable. He’s refusing to meet you in the eye, not particularly focused on anything but the air to his right. He’s struggling to find a way to busy his hands, crossed over his chest—nope not that again– shoving them in his track pants pockets, before deciding to whole up in his jacket pockets.

You think about what could possibly make him that level of awkward, but only one thing comes to mind,

“You didn’t start your period, did you?”

“WHA- WHAT? NO, no, fuck,”

Hajime’s eyes blow wide when you unintentionally remind him about the existence of said bodily function. Is that something he’s going to have to worry about? He needs out of this body, stat.

“Good, cause I just ended, so if you started that would’ve been a little worrying.”

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, and he grimaces, red hue dusting his cheeks, he’s clearly perturbed by the information and realization that was just forced upon him. 

“Good to know. Hopefully we’ll swap before the next... one...”

You roll your eyes, but can’t exactly blame him for his discomfort. As much as you’d like a man to physically endure and comprehend the plight of women, you also hope you’ll be able to switch soon. 

Besides, that's something best cursed upon someone bad mannered, like Tooru. 

It does succeed in reminding you that you and Hajime should put your nose to the grind, if it wasn’t urgent before it’s imperative now that you figure out ways that could possibly switch you back. 

Hajime clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, snapping you back to his current dilemma, 

“Someone asked you out.”

You blink at the information, that’s what he wanted to talk about? You’ll certainly take that over talking about your shit show of a practice tonight. 

“Whaaaat? Again? Jeeeez, I guess I’m just popular today.”

You stick your tongue out with a giggle, sounding extremely misplaced with his voice. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t reprimand you for it, and it makes you tick a brow in curiosity. 

“...so uh, did you shoot ‘em down? Finally understanding some of the struggles that women go through, huh?”

You attempt to laugh off the unpleasant aura that’s starting to hang thick in the air.

“Not exactly. I said I’d text him, I wasn’t sure what your answer would be.”

At that, you freeze, turning back to stare at him in shock. 

“What? You actually considered my feelings instead of shoving a boy out of my life?”

You halt your steps to turn and grip Hajime by the shoulders, faux tears threatening to spring up and burst any minute. You gaze at him with all of the awe of a proud mother seeing her child matured and all grown up. 

“Don’t say it like that! And knock that look off my face, before I do it myself,” he sounds as gruff as he can with a feminine tone, “and of course I care about your feelings! The men that like you are just shit.”

He turns his nose up derisively.

Hajime always figured that was the case, at least, that no man was good enough for his best friend, and the ones that liked you wouldn’t know what to do with you. All that ambition, attitude, spark, with a tendency for being too kind and too caring. What could a high school boy who dicks around in the back of the classroom ever put forward in a relationship with you?

But it seems he was a bit misconstrued. While he’s positive he marked those boys right, there may have been a little jealousy at play he was never made aware of until recent events (in other words, the Matsukawa Incident–he’ll refer to said event as such now). 

Hajime unintentionally acted with his own self interest, driving away any boy that made eyes at you, and hid behind his self-proclaimed ‘protective best friend’ title, told himself it was fine, because Oikawa was doing the same—they both knew what was best for their friend. 

As if you couldn’t decide for yourself. 

Hajime clenches jaw, he should’ve known something was off with him the moment he started going along with Oikawa’s antics. 

He doesn’t feel particularly bad or regretful about driving away those glaringly transparent guys, but he does feel a pang of guilt for having done it without your say in the matter.

“Well, thanks, I guess. But who are you talking about anyways, I’m dying to know who’s won Hajime’s stamp of approval.”

You look at him with curiosity brimming from tip to toe, and a deep frown tugs at the corners of his lips, the dread and anxiety he felt before coming back full force. Now that he’s placed the feelings he has for you, it’s demoralizing to see you interested in other men.

“It was Matsukawa,”

Now Matsukawa was different. 

Hajime knew him personally, and considered him a close friend. They often spent free time together, had lunch together. They of course played volleyball together, and judging from that alone Hajime could tell that Matsukawa was a man with talent, passion, and drive. He was good natured, and Hajime is positive he’d treat you with the respect you deserved.

“He was the one that asked you out.”

Your eyes widen at the information, and Hajime feels his shoulders tense. Is that excitement? What will you have to say about that? 

Well, if you like Matsukawa, Hajime will just have to deal with it. 

He easily turned away other boys and suitors, but the fact that it’s Matsukawa changes everything, it’s thrown a fat wrench in his love life (if he can even call your relationship that, he’s starkly aware you’ve always been ‘just friends’, and the Matsukawa Incident isn’t exactly helping any).

Hajime knows Matsukawa can make you happy, there’s no reason to stick his nose into that. 

When you’re out of this body swap situation, Hajime will just have to support you from the sidelines. But even then, as your best friend, he has to be with you every step of the way. 

Your solo time with Hajime will practically become non-existent if you get yourself a boyfriend. No more movie nights with the two of you, passed out on the couch before the halfway point, no more casual dinner dates, no more coming to each other’s houses at ungodly hours because the other person is only seconds away. 

Hajime guesses he could still have all those things, but with the addition of Matsukawa–that thought sits bitter in his mind. And Hajime loves his friend more dearly than he cares to admit, and loves you more than he thought he did, but his heart breaks at the thought of the two of you together. 

“Mattsun?”

His spiraling train of thought is dashed the second you burst out into a boisterous laugh, something Hajime wasn’t expecting. 

“He’s such a flirt. You should’ve just brushed him off!”

Hajime states in his bafflement. Matsukawa, a flirt? He thought that was just in the moment. What are you talking about? You’re talking about the same Matsukawa, right?

“What? I didn’t know if you liked him or not, I couldn’t say no!”

His face heats with a scowl as he attempts to defend himself, Hajime is in disbelief he let that get to him so much.

“Oh no, you didn’t get all awkward did you? Now he’s gonna think I have a crush on him.”

You huff, and Hajime grows more confused by the second. 

“Is that such a bad thing?”

And now he feels the need to defend poor Matsukawa’s honor, though he won’t deny the feeling of relief washing away his anxiety like a massive ocean wake. It’s as if the salt water is mending the dull cracks that started chipping at his heart, your full smile and animated laugh uplifting him.

“Not really, I guess. But he flirts too much, and I always put him in his place! But now that you’ve gone all doe-eyed school girl on him, he’s gonna think his charm or whatever worked.”

You click your tongue, and Hajime bristles, how could he forget about how bad your personality could be? Any time he finds himself in awe over you, it’s always short lived. 

“I did not go ‘school girl’ on him, I was confused the entire time! I didn’t even know he was flirting with me at first!”

He rants, seemingly back to himself, and you bite your laughter at the outburst. 

“I’m sorry you had to experience that, Hajime.”

“One of my best friends and teammates... was flirting with me.”

“Technically, me.”

“I can’t look at him the same way.”

“If you want, I’ll let you go on the date. But when I’m back in my body, I’m cutting that off.”

Hajime sends you a look that sends a chill down your spine, vibrating from the intensity of it. 

“Kidding, Hajime, kidding!”

You put your hands up in defense and Hajime grunts, decidedly not beating your ass, fortunately.

Though, Hajime does feel a swell of happiness at the fact that you don’t seem interested in Matsukawa. 

“I guess I should let you know...” you pause and Hajime hums in acknowledgement, “make sure to turn everyone down for me.”

Hajime blinks at your request, and attempts to not sound so desperate and eager when he speaks, 

“Uh, sure. Everyone? ‘don’t have anyone you like?”

He figures he’s pushing his luck with that one, but he wants to know the answer, even if he’s shooting in the dark. 

“No, not interested in anyone in our classes, or your teammates, for that matter.”

You clarify, and he awkwardly glances away at the pointed comment. 

“Right. I can do that,” he glances to you before continuing, “the same goes for me.”

“You already told me that!”

“You need a reminder. I don’t want a random girlfriend I’m not interested in when I’m back in my body, okay?!”

And the reminder was so good to hear, you’re happy Hajime doesn’t have an interest in anyone, even if that gives you the smallest chance.

“Okayyy, okay!”

You laugh, and he hides the way his lips turn up into a smile.

“Now let’s go to my place, we have to do more research on our situation.”

You walk alongside Hajime, ignoring your buzzing pocket, no doubt Tooru. You can’t exactly have him crashing your research sessions, so you decide to come up with an excuse for later. 

Days in a row you’ve done research with no concise evidence or method of solving your body swap, you’re starting to feel disheartened by the situation, but at least the weekend is starting.

Even if it’s nearly impossible to come up with anything helpful, you’ll be able to research more and not worry about putting up a front at school or with yours and Hajime’s teammates. 

“We don’t even know where to start! This shouldn’t even be possible!”

The research Hajime has also done leads to zero results, of course. And both your frustrations are piled as high as the plushies and extra pillows Hajime threw off your bed.

You flop onto your back, said extra pillows and plushies cushioning your fall. You’re surprised Hajime left some of them on the bed, it seems he had discarded a majority of them. 

You can’t believe it, Mr. Tubbs, the big stuffed cat Tooru gifted you years ago, cast aside, face down on the carpet. 

If you weren’t so frustrated by your research developments (or lack of), you’d be amused that the only plushes with bed privilege were the ones Hajime won for you at fairs, or gifted you in the past. 

“There’s no legitimate research, for obvious reasons, and most of it is just stories or movies.”

Hajime sighs, browsing through tabs on your laptop. 

“Are we just going to have to wait?” You bite your tongue, “Hajime, what if we’re just stuck like this?”

The sharp look Hajime sends you makes you freeze up. 

“Don’t talk like that. We’ll figure something out.”

He says it so resolutely that it makes you believe him, or at least want to believe in him. And you have no shortage of belief in Hajime’s abilities–if he’s confident you’ll get through this, then you will get through this. 

“If you say so, I’ll believe you. Sorry, Hajime.”

He hums at your response, eyeing you carefully as you continue to scroll on your phone through a rabbit’s hole of mysterious threads, and cryptic posts. 

Your phone pings with messages from Tooru, the buzz startling you out of an odd Reddit thread that seemed more like a troll or a work of fiction than anything. 

The message(s) are in all caps, and you swipe them out as they come up rapidly. You’ll have to think of yet another excuse to give him later, but you’re running out of ideas. 

It was suspicious enough as it is that both you and Hajime had a dentist appointment in the same week–Tooru not-so-kindly pointed out that dentist offices were closed after your school’s hours, and it didn’t help that Hajime made the same excuse a day after you.

The both of you were even forced to skip out on your monthly movie night together, and you and Hajime can only claim to be sick for the night so many times.

You don’t intend to, but you wind up forgetting to message Tooru back that night. 

The stress is stacked high, everything feels personally against you, and you’re too overwrought to focus on anything other than yours and Hajime’s body swap, let alone school, and especially volleyball practice. Which, is increasingly making Tooru more insufferable than usual. 

Swiping out of yet another cryptic site, you briefly worry about what viruses that could’ve creeped onto your phone before searching again.  

Mr. Tubbs making an excellent cushion, you roll onto your side as you scroll away.

A/N: I’m excited to say I’ve got the rest of the story mapped out from here, I usually just wing it and have zero follow through lol, but I’m trying my best! 

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png​ @sexy0android​

Masterlist, Part 7

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Idiot — Sokka x Fem!Reader

Genre: not sure...crack/fluff?

Warnings: none

Words: 2.1k

Summary: after spotting you in the marketplace, Sokka is head-over-heals for you and makes several foolish attempts to woo you.

A/N: I had to do it. This is yet another contribution to @fromthewatertribe’s 1k event! But this time I decided to write something a little silly with my boy Sokka. I used prompt #16: “you are like sunlight.” Enjoy :)

Masterlist

“Wow this marketplace is huge despite being such a small town,” Katara commented.

“Yeah, and it has so many cool things. Look at those pink lemons!” Aang exclaimed, pointing to one of the fruit stalls.

“And these Earth Kingdom hairpieces!” Katara added.

“And that bag over there!” Sokka said. Then, he saw you. “And her...” he said dreamily. Quickly, he approached your stall. Okay, be cool, Sokka. Be cool! he chanted in his mind.

You were organizing your products and making sure everything looked neat, when you heard someone cough to get your attention.

“Helloooo there!” Sokka greeted you in a lower sounding voice. He gave you a smug look and leaned his elbow on the countertop.

Ugh, not one of these guys again, you thought. It didn’t happen often, but it was still annoying when some customers would try to hit on you. Still, you had a job to do, so you put on your customer service smile and played nice. “Hi! How can I help you?”

“Well, I was just…inquiring what wares you were selling in this boutique here,” Sokka replied, still faking his voice.

Seriously?

Katara overheard her brother and stepped in to save you—and him—from an awkward conversation. “Pardon my idiot brother. He’s just interested in that bag over there,” she said, pointing to one of the bags on display. Sokka glared at her.

“Oh! Ahaha, sure thing. That bag is 10 silver pieces.”

“I’ll take it!” Sokka said enthusiastically. As he handed you the money, he tried to think of something clever to say to you. Come on, Sokka, think! Say something that’ll make her fall for you! When you handed him the bag, he got an idea.

With the bag in his hands, he admired it saying “this bag sure is fine, don’t you think?”

“It’s nice, yes,” you simply replied.

“So fine…just like yo—"

“Ugh, for crying out loud!” Katara suddenly groaned. She grabbed Sokka’s arm and dragged him away. “Quit hitting on her and let’s get going, will ya?” You chuckled as the siblings mocked and grumbled at each other while walking away.

“Why did you do that?” Sokka cried.

“Do what? Save you from embarrassing yourself?”

He scoffed, “if anything you embarrassed me!”

Katara groaned and pinched the bridge of her noise. She couldn’t believe how utterly stupid her brother was.

“She was totally into me!” Sokka continued, “didn’t you see the way she looked at me? We were connecting...and then you ruined it!”

“Or maybe she was looking at you, because you were being a complete weirdo.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Idiot,” Katara muttered.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Sokka jeered.

“Spirits, Sokka!” Katara cried, throwing her hands in the air.

The next day, the trio returned to the marketplace to do some more window shopping. Sokka snuck away from the group to talk to you again. He was determined to impress you and win his heart. As he approached your stall again, he devised a plan. Alright, here’s what you’re going to do, Sokka. You’re going to go up to her, introduce yourself, get her name, and then ask her out. Easy peasy!

Whistling as he walked, Sokka went up to your stall. “Oh heyyyy,” he said with a grin on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted. He leaned on the countertop just like he did yesterday. You noticed he was sporting the bag he had bought from you.

“I don’t know if you remember me, but—”

You giggled. “I do actually. You’re the silly guy who bought that bag from me yesterday,” you remarked, pointing to the bag.

“Yeah! Yeah...uh, the name’s Sokka. I’m from the Southern Water Tribe,” he said, extending his hand. You reluctantly shook it.

“I’m [y/n]. I live here.”

“That makes sense! Uh, you work here; therefore, you live here!” he commented awkwardly. He was trying to make conversation, but was clearly failing at it. You actually found it funny, not his comment, but the fact that he was making such a fool of himself again. None of the guys who hit on you were like this. You decided to play along purely for entertainment.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve lived here all my life,” you said.

“Wow, that’s amazing!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! You know what else is amazing?”

“What?”

“You,” he said with a wink.

Okay, that was kind of smooth…but I’m not giving in just yet, you thought. “Why? Because I sell bags every day?” you playfully asked.

“Yeah!” Sokka immediately responded without thinking. Then, he dreadfully realized what you said. “Well, I mean, um…that is interesting, yes. But uh…” Sokka stuttered, trailing off. His plan wasn’t working out so well. You didn’t respond the way he expected you too. By now he should’ve asked you out, but now he was off track, and didn’t know how to recover.

“So, uh, are you here to buy something? Or…” you asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Shoot! I’m losing her. I need to think of something quick! He racked his brain, trying to come up with something witty or funny to say. “No, no...I’m, uh...um...” he scratched his head. Nothing came to mind. It was time to abort mission. “You know what? I forget. Bye!”

And he bolted. You kind of felt bad for him. That Water Tribe boy was trying his best to flirt with you. It was too bad he sucked at it. But at the same time, it was funny.

Sokka ran through the streets of Shí Zhèn. He needed a new plan, but he couldn’t think of anything. He needed help, but he couldn’t ask his sister for advice, because he knew Katara would tell him to leave you alone. That left only one other person: the 12-year-old, very inexperienced Avatar. I’m so screwed! he groaned. But he had no choice; he needed to find Aang.

At last, he spotted him at one of the marketplace stalls.

“Hey, Aang!” he shouted.

“Hi, Sokka! Check out this tiny sweater I found. I think it’s supposed to be for babies, but it fits Momo perfectly!” Aang smiled. He held up Momo to show off the little green sweater wrapped around Momo’s small body. Momo chirped happily.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fantastic,” Sokka quickly said, unimpressed. “Listen, you have no game, but you’re also a wise guy. I need your help.”

“Um, thanks, I guess? What’s up?” asked Aang.

Sokka sighed, lovestruck. “This girl at the marketplace...her name’s [y/n]. Everything about her is stunning: her face, her hair, her voice…so stunning that I keep making a fool of myself in front of her.”

“Aw, that’s so cute Sokka! Isn’t love a wonderful thing?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, so how do I impress her without being an idiot?” Sokka wanted to get straight to the point.

Aang thought for a moment. He had virtually no experience in the dating world. In fact, he was struggling with his own crush on Katara. “Well, the advice you once gave me was to not be too nice and act aloof, but—”

“That’s it! Thanks, Aang!” shouted Sokka as he ran off.

Sokka rushed back to your stall. When he got within sight of it, he slowed to a stroll. Then, he proceeded to walk past your stall multiple times while acting aloof. Every time he did, he would look at you from a safe distance to see if he caught your attention.

To him, it seemed you hadn’t noticed him. The truth was that his new tactic was so painfully obvious and cringey that you pretended not to see him.

Still determined, Sokka approached your stall and pretended to look at the bags on display. Well, if he’s going to play pretend, then I will too, you decided. And so, you put on that customer service smile again and acted oblivious to him.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him.

“Hi,” Sokka said curtly. He didn’t even look up at you.

This’ll be good, you thought. “What brings you here again?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just looking, I guess,” he stated in a bored tone.

“Okay. Well, I see you’re looking at the wicker bag. That one’s pretty popular.” He merely grunted as a reply. You continued. “It’s made of rattan. Very durable, water resistant, easy to clean, and holds a lot. What do you think?”

“Meh, it seems alright.”

“Just alright? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Eh, nothing really.”

At this point, you were entertained enough. You were done playing around. “You’re funny, you know.”

“Huh?” Sokka was completely caught off guard.

“Yeah! Flirting with me, and then suddenly acting like you don’t have a care in the world. I think it’s funny.”

“Oh...” was all Sokka could say. I’ve screwed myself again, haven’t I? he worried.

You leaned on the countertop, getting closer to Sokka. “Want to know what else I think?”

“Uh...”

“I think you’re trying too hard. I don’t normally let guys hit on me, because they’re usually creepy about it, but you’re actually nice and funny. Instead of pretending to be someone you’re not, I think you should just be yourself when you ask me out.”

“Wow,” Sokka muttered in astonishment, “even when you call me idiot, it’s amazing.”

You burst out laughing. “See? You’re funny! And, yeah, I didn’t want to say that out loud, but...you read my mind.”

“Alright, I’m going to start over!” Sokka decided. Dramatically, he did a jump and spin, then threw his hands in the air and beamed as if he transformed into his true self.

“Hi there! My name’s Sokka,” he said with newfound confidence. “Has anyone ever told you that you are like sunlight?”

You threw your head back and laughed again. He gave you look of confusion.

“You’re so goofy!” you laughed, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s really sweet though, keep going!” you begged him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “well, I think you and me should hang out tonight. What do you think? We could walk through the streets, eat dinner, stargaze,” he said, hands waving in the air as he spoke.

You put your finger to your chin, pretending to deeply consider his offer. “Hmm, I don’t know, goofball,” you mumbled sarcastically, while dramatically rolling your eyes.

Sokka smirked knowingly. “Oh, come on, sunshine. You know you can’t resist silly Sokka!” he said playfully. To top it off, he scrunched up his sleeves and flex his arms. When he gave you a cheeky grin and bounced his eyebrows up and down, you cracked up once more.

“Pft, okay, goofball. You’ve won my heart. Meet me here at sunset!” you cheered.

“YES!” Sokka shouted before jumping in the air and clicking his heals victoriously. If he could do a backflip, he probably would’ve done one right then and there. “Uh, I mean...great! I’ll see you then,” he said, pointing finger guns at you as he backed away into the crowds.

Tired from wandering and shopping, Katara and Aang relaxed in their room at the local inn. Suddenly, the door was forcefully kicked opened.

“Guys, I did it!” Sokka announced as he leaped into the room. Katara and Aang stared at him wide-eyed like a startled deer-dog. Then, they glanced at each other, unsure of what he was talking about.

“Did what?” they both asked.

“I have a date with [y/n],” he sighed dreamily. If heart eyes were real, they would be popping up on his face.

“That’s great, Sokka! I’m so glad everything worked out for you,” Aang smiled.

At first, Katara felt out of the loop, then she realized who he must’ve been talking about. “Oh, don’t tell me you harassed and that poor girl again!” she facepalmed.

“Oh, no, no, we chatted for a bit. She thinks I’m hilarious!” Sokka exclaimed.

“She must’ve lied,” Katara concluded.

“Nuh-uh, she was cracking up at my jokes,” Sokka assured. “By the way, Aang, your advice sucked.”

“Actually, it was your own advice...which you gave to me,” Aang carefully explained.

“Well...ugh, whatever! It doesn’t matter anymore. I have a date tonight that I need to get ready for. Later, losers!”

After the door closed, Katara shook her head and sighed, “why is my brother like this?”

[valkyrieofsmut]

At Your Service, Alpha   4

Alpha!Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) x omega!Reader

Descriptions:   Kurt is apartment sitting for his friend and the last thing he expected to find was his one true omega, but there she was. Except she can’t seem to tell they belong together. (Y/n) has dreamed about the day she would meet her one true alpha her whole life. A new, blue, alpha comes to see her every day, and she hates him! Until she starts thinking about him all the time. Her allergies make it so she can’t smell anything, but she knows that her alpha will let her know when he finds her. Won’t he?

A/n- Kurt comes up with a plan... a very plan-y plan of plan-y-ness...  

Masterlist

Story!

(Y/n) thought she was safe the next day; he still hadn’t come in, and it was an hour after he usually came. 

She was setting a plate of pastries in front of a couple, smiling, when she saw him come out of the trees holding a shopping bag. She had to quickly force herself to regain her composure. “Enjoy,” she say with a gentle, slight bow before taking Kurt a menu. 

“What can I get you?” (Y/n) asked. 

He looked up at her. “A pot of hot water, for tea,” he answered. 

She nodded and asked, “What kind of tea?” 

“I brought my own things. Also, a coffee and a danish.” 

She nod again and turn, leaving and returning with his items. 

He was quiet as he worked, mixing ingredients and putting them in the pot to settle to the bottom and seep. 

After enough time, he asked her for a lemon, and she brought it to him, sliced. He glanced at her as he poured the brewed tea into the provided cup, gesturing for her to stay as he took a lemon and squeezed it in the cup. 

“Is there anything else I can get you?” She asked uncertainly. 

Kurt blew on the cup of tea in his hand and turned to her, holding it up. 

She stared at it for a moment, unsure of what he wanted her to do. “D-do you want me to blow on it?” 

“If you like,” he told her. “But, then drink it.” 

(Y/n)'s brow crinkled in irritation. “Why?” 

He raised a brow. “Because I said so.” 

(Y/n)'s teeth gritted and she turned away, striding quickly to the cafe. 

The cup of tea sat untouched across from him the whole day, waiting for her to sit and sip it. 

(Y/n)'s shift was nearly over, again, when Kurt entered the cafe, handing his ticket to her, and a couple of twenties, knowing that it must be enough to cover the bill. 

(Y/n) began to ring the bill under his tab, ignoring the twenties. 

He brandished them at her again, but she don’t take them. 

“(Y/n),” he called to get her attention, but she didn’t take the money, instead finishing the transaction for the tab and making the till pop out. He tried to give her the money, but she still didn’t move to take it, so he reached forward and dropped it on the open till drawer. 

That angered her, making her feel like her space was invaded, and she grabbed the bills, angrily thrusting them at him. “It’s covered.” 

He put his hands in his pockets, refusing to take the money. 

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, feeling her jaw clench tight. “Take it,” she told him. He stepped back so she couldn’t reach him, and she barely kept the growl in her throat. The look on her face was one an omega might give if her pups were threatened. 

She hurled the money at him, but it floated down unsatisfyingly. 

He didn’t move. “No change?” He goaded. 

(Y/n) reached into the till and grabbed half a handful of quarters, throwing them at him, too, though he didn’t even bat an eye. 

He smiled and turned, walking out through the door without taking any of the money from the ground. 

She growled, glaring after him, snapping at the cooks who were staring at the money on the floor, “nobody touch it!” 

After a mental health break, she went out and checked on the customers, stopping at his table to clean it. 

She saw a paper folded and tucked under the edge of the still full teacup. She picked it up and opened it, reading, ‘Drink me.’ Aside from being very Alice in Wonderland, she couldn’t think of a reason for it to be there. Except that Kurt wanted her to drink the tea. 

(Y/n) let out a yell and threw the pot towards the trees. She heard it crack, but she just went back to the cafe, ringing some charges. “He owes you a teapot, so I’m taking it out of his tab.” 

Alex raised her brow. “Oh? And why does he owe me for a teapot?” 

“For the one he made me throw across the lawn…” 

A concerned look crossed Alex's face. “Ok…” 

Jared came and took over for Alex so that she could walk her home since she was worried about her. 

They got to the floor (Y/n) lived on, walking down the hall and she pulled out her keys. 

Alex hesitated at her neighbor’s door. “I-is there an alpha around?” She asked. 

“No, not that I know of, why?” (Y/n) asked. 

Alex delicately put her hand to her nose. “An alpha has scented here.” 

(Y/n) raised a brow to her. That didn’t make any sense. “What?” 

“Seriously-” Alex stepped closer to her door and quickly leaned back. “It’s your door!” 

(Y/n) looked at the wood and back to her skeptically. “Nu-uh.” 

She sniffed, pointing right to the side of the doorway. “Yes! Some alpha scented your door!” 

“Must not be much of an alpha if I can’t smell anything,” (Y/n) snipped, still feeling irritated from the interaction with Kurt only about two hours before. 

Kurt growled at the door, (Y/n)'s comment making him want to throw the damn wood open and show her how much of an alpha he was. 

He could see it; this is why they belonged together. He’d never been moved to much of anything but hormonal response rutting with any omega before, but (Y/n); (Y/n) made him want to push her down and take it slow, experience every range of it, from making love to hard fucking, whether she were in heat or not. 

Including right now. 

And every time she yelled at him. 

. 

(Y/n) opened the door to leave for work the next morning, pausing to sniff at her doorway skeptically. 

She still didn’t smell anything, though it was pretty normal for her to not smell anything. 

That morning, when he arrived, he acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened the day before. 

At lunch, he ordered a bowl of soup and a sandwich, but instead of half and half, he ordered it as two meals. 

(Y/n) shrugged it off, he was an alpha after all, maybe he was just more hungry this morning. 

As she delivered the food, she moved to set the soup down in front of him, but he gestured for her to put it across from him. She set it down, confused. 

“Are you having a guest today?” She asked. 

“You are taking a lunch, soon, ja?” He asked back. 

(Y/n) clenched her jaw and stormed away. 

“It’s here for you, but I’m sure it’s better hot,” he called after her. 

(Y/n) growled as she slammed down her tray inside the cafe. 

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked. 

(Y/n) shook her head. “How can you hate someone so much after only a week?” 

“What did he do now?” She asked quietly. 

“That soup is for me.” 

“Ok…” Alex replied uncertainly. 

“He’s trying to make me have lunch with him.” 

Alex sighed. “Maybe he’s trying to woo you-” She paused as (Y/n) gave her a dirty glare. “But he grew up only around other alphas. That would explain why- why he doesn’t get mad when you yell at him, or throw things at him…” 

.

When (Y/n) was almost off, he came in to her to pay, ignoring the bills and quarters where they had remained on the floor since she’d thrown them there. 

He tried to hand her more money, but she refused to take it, or run his bill until he left. 

The soup, much like the tea the day before, sat untouched on his table until she cleared it at the end of her shift, after he had left. 

.

Kurt sighed and leaned back against the door. He wanted to be with (Y/n) so badly it was keeping him up at nights. He was starting to feel the emptiness in his stomach grow. 

Why did everything he do make her hate him more? He was just trying to be a good alpha and look after her. 

He stayed against the door until he heard her get home safely, then straightened and went to the couch, turning on the tv and slouching down. He flipped through the movies listed, and a new category had popped up; beta romance. He knew that really only female betas watched the romance movies, having known enough male betas who complained that their beta girlfriends made them watch them with them. 

He watched the movie, lamenting that it seemed (Y/n) would never take her allergy medicine, or his remedies to clear her sinuses and smell him. 

He was pining, the same way those alphas -and, dare he say it? Sometimes the omegas- in the female omega romance movies did… 

It turned out the beta romance movie wasn’t bad, just a little strange to him. 

Because betas didn’t have mates, per say, they called it one true love instead of one true mate, and they had to work at convincing the other beta that they were the right one for them. 

It must be so hard without the certainty of scents telling you so. 

Alphas and omegas knew love, too, an alpha, or omega could fall in love with someone other than their one true mate, it happened sometimes, but once they met, it was like everything else was overridden. 

Kurt’s head jerked up at a thought. 

Maybe he’d have a chance, after all- if he could convince (Y/n) that he was a good mate- no, if he could make (Y/n) fall in love with him, he thought, struggling with the new context. Then she’d be with him, and she’d love him, even if she didn’t know they were destined for each other. 

Tag List!

@otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore  @racheo91  @tephi101  @lilypalmer1987  @pingu89  @gifsbysimplysonia  @omnomsauruswrites  @keldachick  @Randomfandompenguin  @mannls  @screeching-student-unknown  @lizfawn  @ya-lyublu-tebya  @their-bibliophile  @the-fifth-marauder03  @Jbstans

[lady-divine-writes]

ACITW AU one-shot “Together Apart” (Rated M)

Summary: With Kurt in New York, performing in New Year's Rockin' Eve, and Sebastian partying with his brother in Westerville like old times, it looks like Kurt and Sebastian will be spending this holiday apart ... and Kurt is not okay with that. (2515 words)

Notes: I always liked this one because it showed that just because Sebastian is rich and could easily take care of Kurt for the rest of his life, Kurt never gave up his dreams. He went to NYADA and is now performing on Broadway. Besides, I'm a sap for stories that manage to pull it all together at the buzzer, so to speak. Fluff and romance with plenty of throwbacks to the original story.

Read on AO3.

“Stupid … frickin’ … useless … WiFi …” Kurt mutters, slapping his phone against the palm of his hand with each word, as if battering the thing will jostle the electronics and force it to work. “Overpriced … piece … of garbage …”

“Still can’t get FaceTime to connect?”

“No,” Kurt growls. “I’ve deleted it and downloaded it about a dozen times and it keeps freezing up on me. Instagram, too. Dammit! Why do we let AT&T soak us for Broadband if it’s not going to work during the important times, like bank holidays and inclement weather?”

“That’s my bad,” Sebastian says. “I forgot to select the Defy Act of God add-on when I renewed our service.”

“Bastard. Always letting me down.” Kurt spins on his his heel and flops down on his back on the bed. “I guess we’re going to have to talk into the phone … like cavemen.”

“Ooo … cavemen,” Sebastian purrs. “We haven’t roleplayed that before. Sounds primal. Now that’s a concept I can get behind.”

“It’d be easier for you to get behind it if you were actually here.”

“I know, babe, I know. But on the bright side, phone sex is a viable option.”

Kurt closes his eyes and sighs, deflating into his pillowcase and his down duvet. The fingers of his free hand find his forehead and massage, attempting to knead away the pounding in his sleep deprived brain. “Are we really going to do this over the phone?”

“Yes. Hence the mention of phone sex.”

“No, I mean celebrate New Year’s. The way things stand, we’re better off calling it a night, wait till you get here tomorrow to celebrate. I really want to take off my clothes, hop in a hot shower, and boil the skin off my bones.”

“Without me?”

“Again, you’re not here …”

“Exactly! We’ve never missed a New Year’s together! Even when we were separated, you were my New Year’s kiss! Now I know you’ve spent yet another taxing evening as a winged marmoset but I’m sorry. You’re going to have to wait one more hour to turn yourself into human stew because I am not spending New Year’s Eve without my kiss!”

Kurt bites his lower lip, holding back a laugh. He doesn’t want to encourage Sebastian. But he ends up snorting which, in terms of laughter, is much worse. Sometimes Kurt thinks Sebastian should have attended NYADA and been the musical theater major since he’s the real drama queen in their relationship. “And how do you intend on getting a kiss from me from over five hundred miles away when we can’t even FaceTime?”

“May I bring your attention back to the topic of phone sex? It’s something I know you’re exceedingly familiar with.”

“Ha … ha …”

From somewhere in the distance, a wave of laughter erupts, as if half the population of Westerville has been listening to Sebastian ply his adolescent wit. Kurt rolls his eyes, grimacing at his phone so hard, his head goes from dull pang to steady throb.

“Why bother?” he sniffs. “From the sounds of it, you’re having the time of your life at your folks’. What? Did Julian and Cooper rope you into one of your famous parties while your parents are away? Trying to recapture the good old days?”

Sebastian makes a non-committal noise. “It’s not a party without you. Besides, I’m not about that life anymore.” He huffs. “Even when I was about that life, I wasn’t about that life.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. Let’s say I wasn’t about that life after I fell head over heels in love with you.”

“And when was that?”

“Earlier than you’re willing to believe.”

“Sure,” Kurt grumbles, proving Sebastian right. It’s not that he doesn’t believe Sebastian. He’s too bitter at the moment to think favorably about anything. He sighs again, debating between climbing underneath the covers fully clothed or trundling off to the kitchen for a bottle of water and a couple aspirin.

Neither wins.

“So what is going on where you are right now?” he asks, his insides roaring with jealousy before he even gets an answer.

“Where I am right now?” Sebastian repeats, singling those words out - the lynchpin to a loophole. Because the party of the century could very well be bumping in the house around him, but if Sebastian has holed himself up in a bathroom, or his old bedroom, then technically he’s not partaking in the festivities. But from the constant static of music and laughter behind him, Kurt doesn’t think that’s the case. “Not much. Hanging with a bunch of drunk randos I don’t know, listening to music that makes me want to puke in my shoes.”

“There’s an image.” Kurt chuckles, not for long but loud enough to regret it. “Can I assume then that you’re a bit sloshed yourself?”

“Not at all. I’ve had the sum total of one Seagram’s.”

Kurt makes a face. If that’s what Julian is supplying their guests, he’s really scraping the bottom of the barrel. Or did they run out of the good stuff early on and have to make a 7-11 run? Or, more to the point, have some poor schlub from DoorDash make a 7-11 run? “Would that be vodka or gin?”

“Uh … no.” Sebastian clears his throat uncomfortably. “More like … uh …”

Amusement and confusion burn a slow smile across Kurt’s tired mouth. What in the world could it be that it’s taking Sebastian this long to answer? “Come on, Smythe! Cough it up! What was this mystery drink?”

“It was … an … ahem … Orange Sassy Swirl.”

The last three words tumble out of Sebastian’s mouth like a skydiver without a parachute.

“Oh, Sebastian. No,” Kurt commiserates earnestly, wondering at what level of desperation Sebastian would actively submit to imbibing anything that goes by the name Orange Sassy Swirl when he had once balked at ordering Kurt a much more respectable apple-tini. “Say it ain’t so.”

“What about you?” Sebastian side-steps swiftly, obviously unwilling to divulge what led him to pick a beverage with such a ludicrous name. “Hit up any noteworthy shindigs?”

“Nope. I took off my makeup after we recorded our part for New Year’s Rockin’ Eve and headed straight back to our place.”

“None of your theater buddies had anything planned? You guys have some heavy hitters in your cast of Wicked. Not a one of them is throwing a party?”

“It’s not that. Idina and Kristin both had prior engagements, of course, but most of the cast had somewhere to go. A few invitations made it my way, I won’t lie. Being a Flying Monkey has its perks after all. But that’s not the point.”

“And what is the point, monkey man?”

“The point is that even though I’m living the dream, I’d much rather be with you, drinking your brother’s wacky alcoholic concoctions in his never ending quest to get me as drunk as possible. We’d stumble upstairs to slow dance in your old bedroom till midnight then, right when the ball drops …”

“Yeah?”

“We’d bone.”

Sebastian barks a laugh the way Kurt had hoped. God, he misses that laugh, the smile that accompanies it, the way both light up Sebastian’s face. With his eyes shut and Sebastian’s voice in his ear, Kurt can see his face so clearly it makes his heart hurt.

“There’s my hopeless romantic,” Sebastian says when he catches his breath.

“And even though New Year’s is a completely made up holiday …”

“Kurt! They’re all made up!”

“I mean the whole concept of a holiday that celebrates the passage of time without the inclusion of some sort of harvest because time itself is a man-made construct …”

“Here we go again …” Sebastian mumbles under his breath. Oddly, he sounds like he’s out of breath and racing through traffic. Most likely multitasking, Kurt thinks. Playing a video game while talking on the phone. Kurt remembers way back when when he, Sebastian, Julian, Finn, and Puck would spend the bulk of Julian and Sebastian’s annual New Year’s Eve blowout kicking each others’ asses at GTA - much to the dismay of their hornier guests, who’d been banking on some kind of show from the Smythes. They eventually did get one since their friendly game turned into strip GTA once Julian, Finn, and Puck got decently buzzed. Any fans of Sebastian’s went away disappointed though since that was around the time he’d squirrel Kurt upstairs so they could ring in the New Year in private.

“There was a time when the calendar didn’t have twelve months. If it wasn’t for the tremendous egos of the Caesar bros …”

“Otherwise known as the salad mavens of ancient Rome …”

“There’d only be ten months!”

“Not to put a wrench in your tirade,” a suddenly winded Sebastian interrupts, “but I don’t think that’s entirely accurate ...”

“I’d be 56 years old!” Kurt rails, uncaring.

“On the up side,” Sebastian says, abandoning his point, “you’d look magnificent for your age. As would I.”

A comfortable but tense silence settles between them, Kurt straining to hear more of what’s going on on Sebastian’s end of the phone while picturing what sort of bedlam Julian has unleashed. But the murmurs of celebration Sebastian is caught up in sound fuzzy and disjointed, shifting and changing as Sebastian (presumably) walks through the house in search of a quiet place to converse.

“Come on, babe,” he says finally. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What’s got you so down on this joyous non-holiday? You usually don’t wax historical unless you can tie it back to the moral of a Sondheim musical.”

“I …” Kurt struggles to come up with a lighthearted, funny response to complement Sebastian’s jab, maybe some mention of his obsession with Indie rock, but he can’t come up with anything. He’s crashing, physically and emotionally, but it’s the emotionally that’s threatening to dismember him on impact. He suddenly can’t help himself his feelings. They’re too overwhelming to control. He knows that the long hours he spent practicing over the past few days set him up for this; the fact that he skipped out on dinner and then completely bypassed the craft services table in his eagerness to get home didn’t help. But it’s the prospect of starting this New Year off alone, for some reason, that’s become too soul shattering to bear. They’re not in high school anymore, where every emotion becomes ratcheted beyond its limits, every moment feels do or die. This shouldn’t be as big a deal as it is. “I miss you. I know we’ve only been apart three days and I know I’m going to see you tomorrow - like, eight short hours from now but … I really miss you. I learned a long time ago that I don’t like being away from you for too long, especially on nights like tonight when pretty much every person in the world is paired up with someone, preparing to share a kiss come midnight, real holiday or no.”

“I feel you …”

Kurt frowns as the sound of a car horn drowns out the end of Sebastian’s sentence. If he’s not actually out in traffic, Kurt has to say the sound effects in GTA 5 are incredible. With that in mind, he wonders if the makers of GTA 5 included a slurring crowd counting down the seconds till midnight as some kind of too-on-the-nose Easter Egg.

“And so it begins.” Sebastian exhales long and deep, and for the first time that night, he doesn’t sound anywhere near festive. He sounds defeated. “How about you count it off for us, babe?”

“Yeah, all right,” Kurt agrees, clearing a sharp-cornered sob from his throat. “10 … 9 … 8 …” He counts by rote, not really listening to himself but to Sebastian’s breathing over the phone, waiting for Kurt to reach one so he can make some ridiculous ‘Mwah!’ noise and go back to his game. Behind closed eyelids, Kurt imagines being at the Smythe house with him, arms wrapped around his waist, lips ghosting his neck as he tries his best to distract him.

He’d succeed, but Sebastian would still win his game. He’s that good.

“... 5 …” Kurt’s voice wavers, his eyes beginning to burn “… 4 … 3 … 2 …”

“... 1 …”

A familiar voice and the press of warm lips against Kurt’s mouth make his eyelids spring open. Moss-green eyes peer into his, steeped in the same level of exhaustion, but even more so, the same level of longing. With his eyes shut, Kurt didn’t see Sebastian come in; didn’t hear him unlock the front door or open the bedroom door over the revelry going on outside, echoing from the TV that he’d put on for white noise and forgotten all about. Besides, Sebastian could walk as quietly as the dead when he wanted to - a talent garnered from years of sneaking out of his house, climbing down trellises and jumping off rooftops in the middle of the night with his parents none the wiser.

“You’re here,” Kurt whispers in a hoarse, relieved voice.

“I am,” Sebastian replies with the addition of another kiss … then another as he climbs onto the bed and straddles his boyfriend.

“You … you didn’t tell me you were coming. You didn’t even hint that you were in the city.”

“I didn’t know if I would make it in time. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“How did you get here?”

“Train. Then an Uber. Until the roads became blocked by pedestrians and I had to get out and hoof it.”

Kurt nods slowly. That explains the incongruous sounds of people interspersed with cars and traffic on his end of the phone. “You’re an asshole.”

“True. But I’m your ...” Sebastian’s face pinches, stuck somewhere between a laugh and scowl when he thinks about the way his comment is about to come across out loud. “You know what? Let’s just say jerk.”

“It would have been nice to have something to look forward to,” Kurt says, shaky arms creeping up around Sebastian’s neck.

“I know.” Sebastian runs the tip of his nose lightly against Kurt’s. “But on the off chance things didn’t work out, I didn’t want to let you down.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Kurt says with the slightest of shrugs.

“Are you happy I’m here?”

“I’ll be happier in five minutes.”

Puzzled, Sebastian’s brows pull together while he fights not to yawn. But he’s so comfortable here in his own bed, with Kurt’s body underneath him, miles away from the mounds of people vying for his attention back in Ohio. “Why? What’s happening in five minutes?”

Kurt’s sad, tired expression grows into a smile that’s positively devious. “You’ll be ready for round two.”

Sebastian grins, reaching over Kurt for the remote to turn off the lights, willing to admit that he walked straight into that burn with his eyes wide open. But an entire morning spent entwined in the arms of the man he loves? That’s worth a little sizzle. “Ouch.”

[another-stupid-writing-blog]

Area 5 – The Monster Queen’s Court

Ronan leads you through the village, and you see monsterfolk of various shape, size, and species, each running away as you turn to look at them.  

RONAN: Don’t worry about them. Let’s just focus on the trial for now.  

Eventually, he brings you to a large circle of humanoid trees rooted to the ground, each towering over you, and each with features of various animals. Ronan gestures for you to stay at the southernmost part, while he goes to the west. To the eastern corner, you see an ant-woman staring at you, with Xoknath behind her. In the northernmost part, you see the biggest of the dryads, bearing a face you find all too familiar.

Yitrie. You had met her before, when you fled from the city, and had talked with her after the whole incident. She, High Elder of the Monsters, is usually so kind in appearance, but right now she’s staring down at you with such contempt and disappointment.  

YITRIE: [Hello, Alexis.]  

…You say hello.  

YITRIE: [Is everyone ready to begin?]  

ANT: [The prosecution is ready, Your Wisdom.]  

RONAN: [The defense is ready, Your Wisdom.]  

YITRIE: [Well, then. Let us begin. Today marks the trial of Alexis, leader of the human rebels, who is accused of trespassing, assault of a guard, assault with a deadly weapon, and breaking of a signed treaty. How does the defense plea?]  

RONAN: [The defense pleads guilty, Your Wisdom.]  

YITRIE: [Interesting. The court acknowledges the defendant’s honesty as a show of good faith. Given her reputation, we had expected a fight.]  

Yitrie chuckles at her own joke, followed by all the dryads in the circle. The ant-woman also joins in, and you see Ronan pretend to laugh too, though he makes no sound, and you can sense the fear coming off of him. Yitrie raises a hand and the laughter stops.  

YITRIE: [Regardless, the court accepts this plea. Is there a bargain currently in place?]  

ANT: [No, Your Wisdom, there is not.]  

YITRIE: [Then let us discuss this situation, starting with the defendant’s motive.]  

RONAN: [Your Wisdom, my client was contacted by a human spirit, whose description matches that of the zombie that attacked our village just yesterday. He had told her, much like he told many of us a few days ago, that unless she made her way eastward to the tower of a wizard, said wizard would conquer the human kingdom, followed by our village. When Xoknath interfered, as per his duty, she did not believe she could communicate her reasons for passing through. The fact that Xoknath is new to the English language, and the fact that we’d remained neutral about this threat so far, may have contributed to this line of thought. In an act of desperation, she struggled against him using the tools she had on-hand, thinking it was in our best interest.]  

ANT: [With all due respect, Your Wisdom, this is a very weak motive. Even if we know now that the human spirit may have spoken the truth, there is no way she could have known this at the time. Mere speculation does not justify a crime this severe, nor does it explain how quickly she resorted to said crime. May I call Xoknath to the stand?]  

YITRIE: [You may.]  

Xoknath steps forward.  

ANT: [Xoknath, Guard of the Border, can you please describe what happened during the incident with Alexis?]  

XOKNATH: [OF COURSE. EARLY MORNING, I WAS PATROLING THE WESTERN EDGE OF THE FOREST, ACCORDING TO SCHEDULE. THEN, I SAW THE HUMAN CROSS INTO MONSTERFOLK TERRITORY. I DID NOT RECOGNIZE HER AS THE FOUNDER OF THE WESTERN CAMP, SO I STOPPED HER AND GAVE HER THE STANDARD LECTURE, AS BEST AS I KNEW IT… SAYING NOTHING, SHE IMMEDIATELY TOOK THE IRON SPEAR SHE HAD WITH HER, AND DROVE IT TOWARDS MY CHEST. I BELIEVE I WOULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY MAIMED, OR EVEN KILLED, HAD I NOT BEEN WEARING ARMOR. I TOOK MY OWN SPIRIT CRYSTAL WEAPONS AND USED THEM TO DEFEND MYSELF, TRYING AS HARD AS I COULD TO GO MAINLY FOR THE LIMBS. EVENTUALLY, SHE WENT DOWN, AND I TOOK HER INTO CUSTODY.]  

ANT: [Thank you, Xoknath.]  

ANT: [You see, Your Wisdom? Immediately. Centre-mass. Bladed, iron weapon! A stable individual would not resort to such measures without at least attempting discussion or retreat, and yet she did. Clearly, she had come prepared to do something of this nature, and we should not overlook this in the slightest.]  

YITRIE: [Agreed. I personally believe she had reasonable things at stake to do what she did, but the way she conducted herself does give the impression that she had been waiting for an excuse to kill someone anyway, which is horrid. I personally have died many times before, and while it may not be permanent, one’s first few deaths can be extremely painful and frightening, to the point where they affect one’s outlook for all of eternity. This should not be ignored.]  

An uneasy atmosphere fills the room.  

YITRIE: [Even still, not many of our own populace willing to risk leaving the village to deal with this wizard issue, even though it affects all of us. She should definitely face punishment, but it does feel a tad wasteful to let her courage go unused. Perhaps if, during punishment, we got her to change her tactics to focus more on communication, and to use less lethal force when battle is unavoidable, she might be less of a threat. Then, perhaps, we could permit her to continue her quest.]

ANT: [Your wisdom, how could we possibly re-train her in such a way? She is a lunatic!]

YITRIE: [Well, since we are already killing two birds with one stone, why don’t we make it three birds? The goblins still need our assistance with the undead human, and we just so happen to have someone who’s shown willingness to approach danger. If we sentence Alexis to community service, I can send her to the goblin caves to retrieve the zombie, alive and bound. If she complies, we can send her on her way. If she kills him, or becomes infected, we’ll keep her in custody. In any case, at least it won’t be us.]  

ANT: [But how can we be sure she won’t attack the civilians?]

YITRIE: […We’ll send a chaperone to watch her every move, and we’ll only let her use less-than-lethal weapons. If she becomes a problem, the chaperone can step in and deal with her. If she is unable to complete the task, they can take care of the zombie as well. Otherwise, their main goal will be to watch from a distance. All in favor?] About three quarters of the dryads raise an arm-like branch.

DRYADS: [Aye!]  

The dryad next to Yitrie leans in towards her.

DRYAD: [Wait! Who should we appoint?]  

YITRIE: [That’s a good question. We need someone very attentive and cautious, who will watch her like a hawk, but they also need to be strong enough to intervene, should things go awry. With both his suspicion towards Alexis, and the strength of body and spirit he has proven recently, it seems Xoknath would be the ideal candidate.]

You see Xoknath lean forward and open his mouth as if to yell something, but then his posture sinks. He subtly clenches his fist and begins to speak through grit teeth.  

XOKNATH: [I WILL COMPLY WITH THESE ORDERS, YOUR WISDOM.]

YITRIE: [Perfect! Now, without any further ado, we sentence Alexis to community service, and mandate a follow-up trial for when she is finished!]

Yitrie claps once. The other dryads then each bring their hands together into one harmonious clap. The ant-woman exits to the south, while a weaselfolk man appears from the north, carrying a burlap sack.

WEASEL: [Here are your belongings, Miss Alexis. Uh, well, some of them, anyway. We had to throw out any food that had spoiled and confiscate any bladed weapons, so your spear is now a staff. We apologize for the inconvenience.]  

You recovered your LOST ITEMS!

The weasel-man exits as well. Xoknath approaches.  

*

Xoknath joins the party! You can now CRAFT and DECRAFT items, including animals, as well as speak Monster Pidgin and HOGSPEECH while Xoknath is alive.  

*  

XOKNATH: XOKNATH NO LIKE YOU, UNDERSTAND?  

Perfectly clear.

XOKNATH: XOKNATH WORK WITH YOU. YOU NO BE BAD.

You have no intention of getting sidetracked more than you have already.

RONAN: Well, uh, since Xoknath here already knows some English, will you be okay without me? I can take you through the village if you want, but I really don’t wanna leave this safe zone if possible.  

Yes, having him come with you will be helpful for now, (you’re not really thrilled to spend time alone with Xoknath), but you’ll be fine if he doesn’t want to leave the city. You thank him for his work defending you.  

RONAN: You’re welcome. I’m sorry things got as crazy as they did. If there’s anything more you’d like from me, just say so.  

You nod.

XOKNATH: UGH. [DOUBLE-CROSSING SHITFUCK! OKAY,] XOKNATH KNOW WAY, GO FIRST. YOU FOLLOW.  

With that, Xoknath begins leading the way back through the village, and you and Ronan follow.  

Area 6 - The Woods

Link to First Page

[honeymoonjin]

enjoy your stay - chapter four

A/N Word count is around 3.7k. Warnings: cursing and mentions of sexual content.

ENJOY YOUR STAY ↳Boss!Namjoon, Chef!Jin, Receptionist!Hoseok, Bellboy!Jimin, Bartender!Jungkook, Accountant!Yoongi, Photography student!Taehyung ↳Some inappropriate language and cursing. Later chapters will have sexual content.

SUMMARY ↳Working the graveyard shift at a hotel isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but your coworkers are certainly happy to have you here.

CHAPTER FOUR ↳Blackmail does funny things to a person, but is it really as doom-and-gloomy as you think? You learn some interesting information about certain workers in the hotel that change your perspective about your own situation.

Things have been tense within the wallpapered halls of the hotel.

Not that sweet oblivious Namjoon would have the slightest clue.

Ever since Tae’s extremely inappropriate version of blackmail, you’ve been trying your best to keep your distance from both him and Jimin in the hopes that they’ll hook up on their own and save you the grey hairs.

Part of you wants to just go to Namjoon yourself and tell him what happened with Jin. Tae’s acting like you had sex with the guy, but it never got past kissing, so maybe you could survive with a slap on the wrist and go on your merry way.

But even though Jin and you both knew what happened, there weren’t any security cameras in the walk in chiller and even if there were, Tae was right. You didn’t think you could handle the look of disappointment on Namjoon‘s face when you told him you went behind his back, and took this long to tell him, too.

Your only hope was to get Tae to live out his bellboy fantasies and leave you alone. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

In the meantime, you had been putting all your brainpower between the hours of 11pm to 7am into your job. It was almost the end of the month, which meant reports were due soon, and Yoongi was around the hotel a lot more, just like he was that first night.

It was crazy to think you’d been here almost a month, and Yoongi’s returned presence in the hotel made it feel like more of a milestone.

He still stuck to the bar, although he never drank, and he was always in a sharp suit with mussed-up hair, like he had come straight from a day at the office. Whenever you would do your rounds and come upon the glorious sight of his back hunched over, white dress shirt taut across his shoulders, you thanked your lucky stars you worked in a place where even the accountant was one of the sexiest men in town.

This morning, he had been here before you started working, and was still poring over pages and pages of figures and tables and charts at 3am.

You had promised yourself that you would look after him just as much as you did the other staff members while you were on duty, and so you found yourself with a mug of decaf coffee in one hand and a little bowl of fries you got Jin to put through before he headed home.

As usual, Yoongi didn’t look up when you approached, trusting that you’d call out to him if you needed him. It wasn’t until he heard the clink of the plate and mug against the glass top of the bar that he put his pen down and glanced over.

He always looked tired, but you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows in concern when he made eye contact. The bags under his eyes looked more like smudges of charcoal and his gaze was glassy and unfocused.

You knew he had a pair of glasses; you had seen them when you visited his office that night, but he hated wearing them and so just suffered the headaches of eye strain.

You clear your throat a little and shoot him a friendly smile. “You’ve been here for a while so I thought I’d get you some food to keep you going. I didn’t know how you took your coffee so I brought a couple packets of sugar in case. Oh, and don’t worry, it’s decaf, so you won’t have trouble sleeping when you finish up.”

He raises his eyebrows in bemusement but graces you with a small, close-lipped smirk. “Accountants are sharks, darling. We never stop swimming or we’ll drown.”

You blink, struggling to process what he means when you were so caught off-guard by the pet name. “Uh, we have normal coffee. I can come back with-“

“Decaf is fine. I’m just messing with you.”

“Oh.” You nod slowly, waiting for him to say thank you, but after a moment of silence that begins to get uncomfortable, you turn to leave. “Anyway, I better get-“

“You know what I can’t work out?” You freeze, mouth still half open from before you were interrupted. He waits for you to shrug before continuing. “Jin has always spent the most each month, that’s no surprise, but normally it’s because he buys expensive ingredients or wants to try new dishes all the time. But this month, he’s gone through an entire 20L tub of vanilla ice cream in less than two weeks. He’s brought two of them. Normally it takes about five weeks to go through one.” His eyes are hard, staring deeply into you, and all of a sudden you decide he probably wasn’t just joking when he said all accountants were sharks. “Why is that?”

The air is sucked out of the room. “I’ll- I’ll ask Jin for you and let you know what he says.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, then like magic the domineering energy fades away, and he rubs his eyes tiredly. “That would be great, thanks. God, report week turns me into a demon. I swear I’m not usually this harsh.”

You don’t trust yourself to reply with the rate that your heart is beating, so you let out a nervous laugh and leave as quickly as you can.

In Namjoon’s office is a list of all the employees contact details, and you track down Jin’s number while Namjoon is distracted with sending emails, sneaking out the back of the empty kitchen to call him.

Part of you feels guilty, since when he finally picks up after eight rings, his voice is a few octaves deeper and rusty from being woken up, but the two of you need to get your story straight before somebody catches you in a lie.

“I’m sorry for waking you, but it’s important.”

“You didn’t wake me. You can call me anytime, you know. I’ll add your number to my contacts after this so that I always know it’s you.”

Even though he lied about being awake, his words bring a blush to your cheeks. “Okay, if you’re sure. Anyway, Yoongi’s at the hotel sorting out the finances and he’s a little suspicious that you went through the ice cream so quick.”

“What? I haven’t gone through it already. I’m not that miserable.”

You sigh. “That’s not what- Look, all Yoongi can see on the receipts is that you bought a tub, and then two weeks later, bought another one even though you should’ve been barely halfway through the first.”

Jin swears, and if it wasn’t for the unfortunate context, you would’ve loved to hear it again in that raspy tone. “What did you say?”

“I said I’d call you and ask. We need to sort out what’s going on so that we don’t expose ourselves for misconduct. I know the ice cream thing is small, but Yoongi isn’t the only one that’s suspicious. Namjoon’s little brother was in the kitchen when I left. He knows something happened and if he knows we can’t guarantee he won’t tell Namjoon. And then what?”

“Namjoon won’t fire us.”

“Maybe not fire us, but he definitely won’t be happy if he finds out.”

Jin grunts. “If he gets mad, he’s a jealous hypocrite.”

Your response dies in your throat. “Wh- What? What do you mean?”

You hear a whistling in the static background of the call and figure he’s probably making himself a cup of coffee to wake up fully. The guilt at ruining his sleep returns again but he replies before you get the chance to feel too bad.

“Look, I wouldn’t tell you this if we weren’t already in this situation, but Namjoon isn’t going to think any less of you for being romantically involved with colleagues. It doesn’t happen often with the night shift since we’re all dudes, but Namjoon and I... we were together before my girlfriend and I even met.”

You thank your lucky stars you didn’t make this phone call while still in Namjoon’s office. “Together together?”

Jin sighs and takes a sip of his drink before continuing. “I worked here for a couple of years before he bought the place and saved us from shutting down. When he came in, he was barely 21. He didn’t know what he was doing, really, and he relied on me a lot since I knew more about the hotel and how things ran. I was grateful to him for saving my job and my career, and... things just went from there. We were together for just under a year.”

You bit your lip, dragging your teeth over the skin as you processed that information. “Okay. So it doesn’t matter if he finds out? Wait, why did you guys break up? Will he be mad that you went to me instead of him?”

He makes a strangled sound in his throat. “That’s personal, I’m afraid. I’m only telling you this so that you can sleep easy knowing your job isn’t on the line. I’ll handle Namjoon if he does find out, okay? Just tell Yoongi one of the kitchen hands left the tub on the bench and it melted so I got a new one. He’ll get grouchy that I didn’t just re-freeze it but he thinks I’m stupid anyway.” You stay silent, not wanting to admit you had completely forgotten about the whole ice cream ordeal in the wake of the news Jin had dropped on you. “I’m going to see if I can get some more sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you want, you could come a bit early to work and I can make you some dinner after the service ends?” He would never admit it to you, but the way his sentence lifts at the end belies his nervousness.

“Yeah, that sounds great, Jin. I’ll be sure to send my compliments to the chef.”

He laughs. “Bye bye, now.”

“See you, Jin.”

You hang up and take a few moments in the musty closet to compose yourself before heading back down the hallway to the bar.

Recently, when going down to the lobby to check up on Hoseok, you’ve been as quick as you could manage without Hoseok getting suspicious, and you’ve successfully managed to leave before Jimin makes it over to the reception desk.

Tonight, however, Hoseok seems to have cottoned on to your desperate attempts, and is making you change the receipt rolls in the eftpos machine even though you know full well he can do it himself.

“Ah, so the new roll just goes in there, I see. Thanks for your help, muppet.” Hoseok is sitting at his chair, one elbow on the table, stroking his chin and nodding thoughtfully.

From the corner of your eye you see the bellboy ominously approaching and grimace. The last thing you need is Jimin bringing up your conversation about Tae. From the way Hobi grins at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, Jimin’s possibly told him already.

Although you studiously avoid looking up, you can see the brilliant smile stretched across Jimin’s face as he makes more progress than he has in the past week.

“Well, considering there’s literally no other place for it to go, and it was where you got the old one out, yes, Hoseok, that’s where the roll goes.”

He pulls a face at your attitude but doesn’t say anything.

Jimin calls out your name, and you stand up slowly in resignation.

“Feels like ages since we’ve spoke!”

Now that you actually look at him, you feel a little bad. Yes, he’s a shameless horndog who’s ass is so good you’ve been blackmailed into setting him up, but he doesn’t know about the whole Tae thing, and it’s clear from the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes that he’s upset with the way you’ve been treating him.

You melt a little inside with shame. “Namjoon’s been super stressed with trying to get everything sorted for the monthly report, that he’s got me feeling anxious by association. I’ve kind of been running around like a headless chicken lately.” Both of those points were true, if not actually related.

“You get off in like an hour, right? Us three should go get breakfast after the day staff come in. Jennie’s usually here on time, although the receptionist lady is like twenty minutes late most of the time. I think she has kids to drop off to school, though, so what can you do?” He laughs shakily, catching himself from rambling too much.

Hobi jumps in to save him. “The coffee shop across the street does bagels, I think. We could go there, it’s pretty quiet before 8am.”

The angelic hope in Jimin’s eyes and the warning stare of Hobi make it impossible to say no. And a small part of you thrives on the attention the two men always give you. Okay, a pretty big part of you enjoys the attention.

“Only if you let me shout the coffees, I owe you for being a little distracted lately.”

The jingle of the doorbell means Jimin’s services are required, but he wraps you in a tight bear hug and whispers a goodbye in your ear before you go.

You breathe out heavily and lean against Hoseok’s desk, the two of you quietly watching Jimin chatting up the small family that have walked in, making conversation like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“He’s got the biggest crush on you.”

Your observations are interrupted by Hoseok’s sudden comment. “What?”

He sways lazily back and forth in his chair. “I mean, probably all of us on the night shift are into you, we’re not blind, but he seems to really really like you. He was so upset when you weren’t speaking to him.”

“I knew you were acting all dumb to get me to stay at the desk longer.”

Hoseok blinks. “Huh? Oh, no, I actually did need your help with the eftpos machine. Normally I call Namjoon down to do it for me, so I’ve never done it myself.” He puts on a bright smile as the guests finally finish with their luggage and turn to approach the desk. He pauses. “Wait, what do you mean dumb?”

You snort, pat his shoulder, and leave him to deal with the guests.

It’s not until you are sitting across from Jimin in a cramped little cafe that you realise the implications of your previous conversation with Jin. This whole time, you were avoiding Jimin because of Tae’s perverted version of blackmail, but if Namjoon wouldn’t do anything should Tae tell him, then there was no reason for you to hold up your end of the deal.

Who needs to share, anyway?

“So, Jimin, what do you do outside of working?” You were a little sore that you had offered to pay for breakfast; the coffee was way too hot to even touch, and the bagels were soggy.

He lit up when you asked. “Actually, I’m a dancer.”

“Oh, no way!” You gave yourself a mental reminder to check him out once he stood up to see if he had a real dancers body. Up until that point you had only really paid attention to his gorgeous face and perfect ass.

“Yeah! Work’s a little rare for a dancer, though, so I’m posting some stuff on YouTube in the hopes that it’ll take off and go from there.”

Hobi, who was the only one of the three of you devouring his bagel, hummed enthusiastically around a mountain of cream cheese and jam. “He’s really great! You should check it out!”

Jimin’s smile softens and his cheeks heat up with the praise from his coworker. You get him to write the channel name on a napkin and promise to watch his videos when you get home. Even if you weren’t interested in his dancing, you were at the very least curious as to what he looked like out of his bellboy uniform and in some regular clothes.

The three of you spent almost an hour in the cafe, the two of them sharing stories about Jin setting a tablecloth on fire when serving a flambé dish, or Jungkook thinking that a scotch on the rocks used actual stones in the glass and you talking about the time you had to call a locksmith into the hotel at 2 in the morning because Namjoon somehow managed to break off the handle on the inside of his office and get locked inside.

By the time you parted ways, promising to find a better place to eat next time, it was well into the morning, just about 9:30, and you regretted choosing a coffee rather than something that would allow you to get some sleep.

Both men had already disappeared into the crowds, Hobi walking to his block of flats and Jimin catching the bus to his parents house, and instead of heading home yourself, you decided to return to the hotel, wide awake and ready for confrontation.

You went straight to Tae’s room rather than checking the bar or restaurant, and as luck would have it, he opened up a few moments after you knocked on the door.

He had the same sly grin on his face as he usually wore when he let you inside, leaning against the back of the door with his arms crossed.

“You have news?”

“Not the news you’re expecting.”

He frowns at this, tilting his head in confusion. “He’s not interested in me anymore?”

“I’m not interested in you anymore,” you counter. He scrunches up his face even more. “I’m not going to play matchmaker anymore. If you want to get your dick wet, you can do it yourself.”

You watch him curiously as he pushes off from the door, saunters past you and collapses onto the bed, one arm propping up his head. “Might I remind you that your job is on the line here?”

You shrug. “I would disagree with you. Fuck the bellboy, be my guest, but I don’t want to be a part of it.”

He shifts onto his stomach, grinning again. “Even if you aren’t helping me anymore doesn’t mean you don’t have to be a part of it. I already told you that you’re welcome to join.”

You scoff, but his intense gaze still has you flustered. “Thanks for the kind offer. I think I’ll pass.”

“Well, I suppose chefs are more your pay grade.”

A choked gasp of protest leaves your mouth. “Listen, mister, we didn’t have sex, we just kissed! And besides, it’s none of your business.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, Tae actually looks caught off guard. “Wait, you aren’t fucking him? Oh,” he mutters, “never mind, then.”

You stare at him incredulously. “How are you at all related to Namjoon?”

He sits himself up on the end of the bed. “I just thought...”

“You thought I was the hotel slut that slept with any living body within its walls?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Well, that’s just...” You trail off, not sure how you could possibly respond to that. “You’re wrong. I’ve only worked here for a month.”

He smirks at you again, but more cheeky than sly. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not the hotel slut yet?”

Your lips twitch and you desperately try to keep a straight face. “Have a good day, Mr Kim.”

“Should I ask again in a couple weeks, or...?”

You turn to the door quickly but you know he saw your incredulous grin by the sing-songy way he calls goodbye.

[hecate-herself]

Prologue

Date: November 10th, 1882

 “You sure do know how to pick them.” Tessa said with a smirk as she crossed her arms, watching the woman through the window. Klaus looked down at her with a frown. “What? You have to admit that she is pretty.”

“I didn’t realise that she would be your type.” Tessa laughed and tilted her head to the side slightly. “I didn’t even know that you leant that way.”

“I don’t. Operative Monday does though, you may have to keep them both in check if they lean the same way. Or keep yourself in check.” The woman in the room that they were watching landed a punch on the bag that she was hitting and stepped back and caught it before it could swing back forwards and hit her. Klaus snorted.

“I am a professional. And I am sure she is too.”

 “She has a reputation.” Tessa said. “I am sure that you read that in her record.”

“I read her assignments and classes. Did not bother with the notes. Or yours, or Monday’s.”

“That could end badly. Do you know who she is?”

“Should I?” He asked, looking back at her incredulously.

“Good luck with her. I am going to go back to my paper work. Work that you rudely dragged me from.” She said, stepping back on her left foot, hand already reaching for the door. “Unless you need me?”

“Go, have fun.” She said, giving a slight wave of her fingers, and then she left him to watch alone.

Klaus observed for another five minutes, before pushing the door open to the training room and stepping inside. He watched in silence. He knew that she knew he was there, he had seen a slight twitch in her shoulders when he had entered, but she didn’t stop or turn to face him. The woman landed punch after punch on the heavy leather back, shifting forward and backward on the balls of her feet as the bag swung around. She grunted slightly with each hit, forehead slick with sweat that clung to wisps of hair that had managed to escape the bun she had tied into her hair cruelly tight. Sweat clung to the back of her shirt and her gloves itched.

 After one final punch, a thud that filled the room, she grabbed the bag, took a deep breath, and turned to face him.

“Can I help you?” She asked, slightly out of breath, her skin normally had a pinkness to it, but now it was brighter as blood rushed to her face.

“Operative Rotherwood-Richmond?” He asked, and she nodded. “I’m Operative Morgenstern. I’m putting a team together, and apparently, you are currently unassigned.”

“That is true.” She said with a shrug as she adjusted a glove slightly. “How can I help you?” She rephrased her question, tone demanding, eyes cold and hollow.

 “Fancy getting changed and joining me at the café inside Charing Cross station?” She furrowed her eyebrow. “I have a proposition that I would like to discuss with you.”

“And why not the cafeteria here?”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy a cup of tea that tastes of soap with a group of trainees.” She didn’t answer yes or no, and her face portrayed no emotions. It was almost like a blank mask but peach instead of porcelain. “How long will you need to get yourself cleaned up?”

“I haven’t said yes.” She replied.

“And you have not said no.” He returned. “Thirty minutes? I’ll see you in the caf��.” He didn’t give her the chance to say no, instead turning and leaving.

 She arrived at the café twenty-nine minutes later. She was remarkably well turned out for a woman he had just watched almost quite literally beat the stuffing out of a punching bag. Her black skirt was made of heavy satin and brushed the floor, a petticoat lined with lace was barely visible with each step that she took, hiding her shoes, though he was certain that she was wearing high heeled boots, they made the right sound and she was definitely several inches taller than she had been in the training room. Her blouse was a very dark green that barely had any colour to it, she wore it tucked in with a jet-black jabot at her throat and the chain of a necklace just visible around her neck, a glimmer of lightness to her dark outfit.

 He stood up and pulled her chair out for her, and she sat down.

“Thank you for meeting me.” He said. “I was hoping that we could talk about the team that I am forming.” She gave a slight nod. The pair paused as a waiter came over, and they ordered a pot of tea, chamomile. He didn’t have a particular fondness for it, but she asked if he would mind it, and he wanted to get on her good side. She did not appear to be a woman who you would want to be on the bad side of, she seemed jaded for a woman in her late twenties.

 He watched as she poured herself a cup of tea, and then poured him one. She added one sugar to her cup, he added two.

“I have been assigned to a new unit where the idea is to assist other teams struggling with cases, or to take on some of the cases considered too difficult or dangerous for most.”

“I have heard that they wanted to try a team like that.” She said. Her words were light, but her voice was clearly faux and forced. “May I ask what your record is like?”

 “I worked for three years in Moscow, usually performing searches, patrol and other peace keeping activities. Followed by one year in Saint Petersburg as a solo investigator. A year in London in a team here, a few assignments that I am not at liberty to discuss, six months in Munich acting as a translator and protection for a member of the council. They offered me this job when I returned. I took a few weeks off and started putting my team together two weeks ago. I was quite interested when your name crossed my desk. You have quite an interesting record.”

“Interesting how?” She asked sharply.

“Why is it the longest that you have ever stayed in one place was two years?” He asked. She sighed, picked up her tea cup, took a sip and set it down again, it barely rattled the saucer.

 “People do not like me.” She said with a shrug, about as casual as she could manage. Her left shoulder screamed as she moved it.

“Why not?” He asked.

“I can get reckless, many have found me difficult to work with.” She replied, it was only a partial truth, but he didn’t need to know the entire truth. “I don’t care, I get results, and that should be what matters. Some people find other things more important.”

“I like people who get things done. And people who know when the rules need to be bent slightly.”

“And how to hide that in the paperwork and reports.”

“English isn’t my first or second language. Having someone who is good at that would be useful to have on hand.” He said. His voice held a strong German accent to it, a brutality to his words that was clearly recognisable. Something glimmered behind her eyes for a second.

 “I don’t think this is going to work.” She said, reaching for the bag that she had stowed underneath the table.

“And why is that.” He asked, leaning forwards.

“I have no interest in being a sectary or clerk.” She replied. “I am an Operative. I am a fighter.”

“I know you are.” He said, smiling. “I want you to be my second in command.” She would have gawped if her manners were not impeccable.

“I- uh. I do not know what to say.” Her father would have had such a go at her if he had heard that stutter.

 “I need to hear back from you by Friday, so you only have a few days to decide.” He informed her. “If you can’t decide right now that is.” She refilled her cup of tea.

“I have a few more questions to ask you.” She said. “Before I can make a decision. I wasn’t planning on ever returning to London you see. I need information to make a decision on whether or not I stay.”

“What do you want to know?” He asked, curious about why she was not planning on being in London, she had apparently been back for three weeks, little mention of what she had been doing before that, other than where she had been.

 “What duties will I expect as your second in command?” It was a position that she had not held before and had doubted she would get a chance to before she had returned to the city that she was from.

“Taking lead on cases when it is required of you, following up on your own leads independently. Keeping contact with any criminal informants that you have, if you have any.”

“I have no informants currently. A few contacts that I try and stay in touch with though.” She told him, and he nodded, that didn’t surprise him, she had been out of the country.

“You will also be expected to keep command of any officers we have with us if it is required. And of the rest of the team if I am incapacitated for any reason.”

“Are there any members to the team at the current moment in time?”

 She could smell someone on him. Though she wasn’t sure if that was a colleague or a lover. Definitely a woman, he did not seem the kind to wear floral perfume. She could also smell coffee, sweat and sawdust on him. Though mainly she could smell the cloying smell of the cheap shampoo that she had purchased in a rush.

 “There are currently two others. Operative Sabine Monday, she has just moved from Dublin. And Teresa Parks. She is a communications specialist, though would be taking the roll as a Clerk for the most part.” He said, she nodded. “I am looking for at least one other individual to join. Preferably a medic.”

“May I make a recommendation?” She asked, and he nodded slightly. “Zircon Harrington. He’s just a Fledge at the moment. But I would scoop him up when you get the chance. Served in the army for two years, honourable discharge when he decided to switch careers.”  

“Do you know him personally?”

“I do. I recruited him, but also, my old team wants him. And I can be petty at times.” She said, shrugging with her right shoulder, having learnt from her mistake. “Whilst that isn’t probably a good thing to say to someone who is looking to employ my services, it is the truth. It annoys criminals.” He laughed.

“I will look into it. Falling out with your old team?” Her eyes were like stone.

“You could call it that.”

 The waiter came over with their bill and they both reached for their wallet and purse respectively.

“I’ve got it.” Klaus said.

“I do not have any wish to be indebted to a man that I have just met.” She replied, pulling out a note folded in half perfectly, and handing it to the waiter.

“I am not a Fae.” He said.

“I know, though you certainly have the colouring of one.” She wasn’t wrong. Klaus was remarkably pale, blonde hair that looked white under bright lights and grey eyes that were just as reflective as the mirror in her bag under the harsh ether lights. He smirked.

“As do you.”

“Trace my lineage and I have no doubt that you will find one there.” She said with a wave of her hand.

 Her appearance was less striking than his was. She wouldn’t stand out in a crowd the way that he did. Not until you got close enough to look her in the eyes and realise that they were not the same colour. Her right eye was brown, her left was green. Klaus imagined that once upon a time they were warm and comforting. But it was clear that something had happened that turned them as cold as marble. They were harsh and followed people around the room in jarring darts as they entered and left, drawn to the women discussing something loudly in the corner, and then to the man that just entered, to him for a second, and then the waiter.

 She had hair dark curls that were still wet from the shower. It was thick and braided down her back. The polar opposite to his, her hair was almost black (though that may have been the water), compared to his white-blonde. Hers was also thick whilst his was thin, and likely curly when it was dry. Her skin wasn’t as pale as his own, but hers had an almost sickly look to it.

 He stood up and pulled her chair back for her and she stood too. Collecting coats and hats from the stand by the door, they walked out of the station together. She pinned her hat in place with a sharp pin that made Klaus wince at the slight wandering of his mind that wondered if she had ever stabbed anyone with it. He balanced his top hat on his head, tilting it forward slightly so that the brim would keep most of the light out of his eyes, she had a thin veil that did that for her, and filtered out most of the smog in the air.

 A coal powered cab trundled past, wheels clacking loudly over cobblestone roads. A bus passed by too, followed by more cabs and a police wagon. It was always loud outside Charing Cross, and neither of them could even hear any trains at the moment.

“It was nice to meet you.” She said, offering him her right hand to shake, he took it after a moment.

“Sorry, I thought that you were left handed.” He said after he shook her hand. “It is just, you hit harder with your left hand.”

“No. I am right handed. I was just practising my left hook.” She said.

 They both walked back towards the office, a hundred yards or so away on Villiers street, down towards the river.

“Do you have any more questions?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“Do you have any more for me?” She asked.

“Your file didn’t say that you were married.” He said as she reached for the door. “I hope-.”

“I’m not married.” She said, interrupting him, eyes drawn to the gold band on her left hand. “I inherited the ring. It keeps people away when I wear it there.” She said. He gave a slow nod.

“Miss it is.”

“Lady. Actually.” She said, she watched his eyebrows shoot up. “You didn’t know?” He shook her head, and she fished out a card from her purse and gave it to him. “I’ll get back to you on my decision by Friday.” She said as she gave him the card.

 Lady Evangeline Rotherwood-Richmond of Somerset

Heir apparent of the Marquis of Somerset

[awhitehead17]

Tiny Tim (part three)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven

Chapter summary: Kon and Tim go shopping. 

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“No seriously. I hate you.”

“Love you to Tim.”

“Asshole.”

“Hey! Don’t use that language.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I can do whatever the hell I want.”

Kon sighs and just lets it go, because seriously, dealing with an adult Tim was hard enough as it is (as much as he loves Tim, he can still be a pain the ass) but toddler Tim, is just a nightmare. He watches with amusement as Tim crosses his arms over his chest and then proceeds to glare up at Kon. Well he attempts to glare, Tim’s big innocent looking eyes doesn’t make the glare at all intimidating and the pout on his face just makes him look adorable.

Kon smirks down at him, “Well if you insist on avoiding your family this is something we have to do and I’m not allowing you to just swim in your own shirts and boxers for the next month.”

Tim rolls his eyes, “We don’t need to go wasting money on useless shit.”

“Language.” Kon scolds him again.

“You normally don’t have a problem with it.”

Kon gives Tim a look, “That’s when you’re 20, not 4.”

Tim looks away from him, “I still don’t see why you had to put me in a trolley.”

“Because if I didn’t I would look like a bad ‘parent’ if I didn’t. You’re state of dress is already enough to raise eyebrows, I don’t need you to go walking around parading your badly dressed state. The last thing we need is for you to get taken away from me because of child services.” Tim rolls his eyes again but stays quiet. Conner continues to push the trolley around the shop they stopped in on the way to Metropolis.

Pretty soon after getting out of bed Conner changed into his civilian clothes and then tried to dress Tim up as much as he could. Tim was still swimming in one of his own t-shirts, but this time Conner had tried to give Tim some cover up on his legs by using some old boxers he had lying around.

It’s not ideal but it covers Tim up for the most part until they get something better. What didn’t help was Tim’s constant complaints of him not being a child, them not needing to go out and buy clothes and how it’s a whole waste of time. Kon was ready to bash his head against the wall by the time he was done. He didn’t however, from there he picked Tim up and headed for Metropolis but along the way he stopped in a shop, because he needed to get Tim some proper clothes.

That’s when the next problem came. Tim wouldn’t get in the goddamn trolley. Tim just outright refused to get in the trolley, he even went as far as stamping his foot down on the ground. At that moment Kon was completely lost at what to do, Tim was practically throwing a temper tantrum and he had no idea on what to do to make Tim quiet down. There was no way Kon could let Tim walk around, with his state of dress and lack of shoes it would raise a lot of suspicion.

Having no idea on what else to do Kon simply picked Tim up and forced him into the child compartment part of the trolley, he even used his TTK to keep him there. After a moment of struggling Tim gave up and finally accepted defeat. Thankfully there was no one around at that time to witness Kon’s struggle with the toddler. Now that would have been embarrassing.

But that leads them up to where they are now, which was strolling through the shop looking for the clothes section. Finding it Kon stops at the boy’s toddler section and stares at it blankly, there’s all different variations of t-shirts, pants, shoes in all different colours and sizes with different cartoon characters on them. He doesn’t know Tim’s size in anything, (well at least in children sizes at least, adult size he definitely knows).

He stares blankly at the section for a good few minutes before he hears laughing coming from his side. He turns and sends Tim a glare, “Dude not helping at all. You’re supposed to be helping me here.”

Tim opens his mouth to say something back at Conner, but he was cut off from a voice behind Kon, “Excuse me sir.”

Kon turns around and is face to face with a woman who’s standing a bit too close for comfort. She’s around her mid-thirties who appears to work in the shop as she’s wearing a uniform. Kon looks over her cautiously, this is the first time they’ve been approached since Tim has been turned into this body. Taking a step away from her he asks, “Yes?”

The woman smiles widely, “I was just going to ask if you needed any help, I’ve seen you stare at this section for over 5 minutes.”

Kon’s completely dumb folded for several moments, opening and closing his mouth as he looks between the clothes on the shelves and the woman. In the end his brain clicks back into place and he smiles at the woman, “Uh, no, I’m okay thank you. I can manage. Just looking you know, there’s so much to choose from, it’s usually the other half that does the shopping.” He forces out a laugh while explaining.

That’s when Tim decides to pipe up from where he’s sat in the trolley, “Mommy says that daddy is useless and how he shouldn’t be trusted to do anything himself.”

The two adults look at the child, Tim just looks up at them with wide blue eyes. It’s the look of innocence. Tim’s look seems to be winning the woman over but from Tim’s words Kon definitely caught double meaning behind them. Kon frowns and the woman coos, “Oh you have a precious one there, young man.”

Kon feels himself blush at the comment, but then the woman is looking at him with a frown, “Hope you don’t mind me asking, but why is he dressed that way?”

For the second time Kon’s mind goes blank. He hadn’t prepared for this! Damn it, he really should have thought about this beforehand, of course someone was going to question him! He knew it was suspicious from the start, but he hadn’t done anything to mentally prepare himself for it! This is going to end so badly.

When he doesn’t answer straight away the woman narrows her eyes at him and gives him a suspicious look. She goes to say something but is cut off by the same high-pitched voice as earlier, “Daddy said our house burnt down and we lost everything. I have no more clothes. So, we came shopping to get new ones and daddy said that I can have whatever I wanted!”

The woman looks down at Tim and Kon sees her features soften up, “I’m sorry to hear that sweetie. I bet you’re missing your home, now aren’t you?”

Tim shakes his head, “Nuh-uh. I don’t like the place anyway. Daddy says that our new place will be better. He says that a playground is nearby, and I get to play on it when we go there.” He grins up at them.

“That sure sounds exciting!” She says with fake enthusiasm, that’s obviously put on for kids. She’s then looking at Conner and says in her normal voice, “I’m sorry, I thought that-”

Catching onto Tim’s lie, Conner cuts her off, “It’s okay, it couldn’t have been helped. The clothes he was wearing at the time got burnt so we had to wrap him up in those for the times being. That’s why we’re here now, to get new ones.”

The woman is now looking at him sympathetically and it makes Kon feel off for some reason. He tries to shrug it off, “Yeah, well, we better get on now.” He hints for the woman to go but when she doesn’t move away from them, Conner takes hold of the trolley and starts to push it, “Thank you for the offer but I’ll manage.” He says to her. He turns and continues on down the aisle, thinking about it he’s sure he seen the shoes down this end.

A few beats later he glances over his shoulder and sees the woman starting to walk away in the opposite direction and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He turns his attention back on Tim who is looking up at him a smug smile, well at least he thinks that’s what it’s supposed to be.

“You’re welcome.” Tim says.

Yeah it was a smug smile.

“Dude I actually am going to thank you for that. So, thanks.” He says. “How did you come up with that anyway? Also, nice acting, who knew you could act like a child when it really comes down to it.”

“I figured we were going to need a cover storey from the moment we left my apartment, so I got thinking and thought of one when we arrived here. And shut up! I can act when I need to!”

Kon’s attention is drawn away from Tim when they reach the shoes and once again he’s struck with the same issue as before, he has no clue what size Tim is. He turns back to Tim, “Right what size do you think you are?”

Tim looks at him before looking over the selection of shoes. After a moment he’s stretching and pointing, “Them ones.” Kon reaches for the pair Tim is pointing to, Tim sighs, “No not them, the ones to the left. Another left. Yeah those.”

Kon picks them off the shelf and looks at them, they’re just plain black and Velcro strap. At first, he gapes at the size of the shoe, it’s so small and It makes his hand look ginormous as he holds it in the middle of his palm! It’s amazing that a person could be so small. Of course Kon never actually went through this stage in life himself, but if Tim meant what he said about them raising kids together then he’s looking forward to actually buying these for them and watching them grow up.

Once he realises the style of shoe that Tim has chosen Kon rolls his eyes, of course Tim would be dull and pick the most boring pair of shoes out of all the colourful ones around. Moving in front of Tim he bends down and opens the shoe up and then starts to put it on the toddler. Thankfully Tim doesn’t cause a scene as Kon squeezes the shoe onto the foot. Once he’s done he straps it up and looks up at Tim, “How does that feel?” Tim moves his foot around and Kon sees him wiggle his toes inside.

“That’s fine.” Tim comments. Kon nods and takes the shoe off his foot and places the pair in the trolley, it’s only then he gets an idea. Moving away from the trolley and ignoring Tim’s call he searches the shoes looking for something. They’ve got to have them here, they got to –

“Ah-ha!” He exclaims excitedly when he finds them, he looks through them and picks up a pair the same size as the other pair. He places them in the trolley ignoring Tim’s questions on what he just found. If he told Tim what they really were he would have a fit, so Kon will leave it as a surprise until he comes to wear them.

Grabbing the trolley once again, he starts to push it and soon enough they get to the end of the aisle. Conner realises that they need to go back up and head back to the clothes section as they have yet to grab anything. From where he was Kon stops walking and starts to turn the trolley around, it’s a lot more difficult than he thought it would be. The 180 he was trying to do was nearly a success but as it came to the last bit, the trolley sit the edge of a stand with a loud clang. Wincing, Kon backs up a little and carries on turning until he finishes the 180.

Taking a breath he starts to push the trolley back through the aisle, “Was it really that hard?” Tim questions from his seat. 

Kon refuses to look at him, “Shut up.” Is all he says. 

Tim laughs, "Seriously Kon, you've battled the most powerful people on the planet, you are one of the most powerful people on the planet and yet a simple shopping trolley was difficult for you to manoeuver."

Kon chooses not to comment, he was made to fight things, he was made to replace Superman. This, shopping and domestic stuff, it's new to him. It's going to take a bit of getting used to.

They reach back at the clothes section and once again Kon asks Tim, “What size do you think you are?” Tim unhelpfully shrugs and Kon rubs a hand against his forehead, “Helpful. I think we’re just going to have to guess here then. See anything you like?”

Tim looks over the clothes but after a while Tim shakes his head, “No.”

Kon lets out a sigh knowing what the real problem was, “Tim there isn’t a lot here. You’re going to have to suck up your pride and wear some of these clothes.” Tim turns him and sends him a glare. Glaring back Kon tells him, “Pick your self or I will choose everything for you.”

Thankfully Tim doesn’t argue instead he just turns back to the clothes and starts to point some out. Kon picks up five different t-shirts that Tim chose and then five different pairs of pants. They pick out two different sets of pyjamas for him, (one justice league themed and the other batman themed much to Tim’s disapproval), they get him three different jackets, multiple pairs of socks and children’s underwear. Kon looks through everything to double check that they’ve got the essentials, believing they have he starts to move out of the aisle, but as he does there’s a few t-shirts that grab his attention. Smirking to himself he reaches over and picks up two of them, he shows them to Tim, “Make a choice because we’re definitely getting you one of these.”

Tim’s eyes widen at the shirt of the shirts, he’s then shaking his head, “No way. You are not putting me in neither of those.”

Kon looks back at shelves and spots more, he reaches over to grab one, “What about this one then?”

“Absolutely not.”

Kon looks at the t-shirts in his hands, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman designs cover the front. Glancing at Tim’s disgusted look, he shrugs and puts all three in the trolley. Tim may not like it but at least Kon will get a few kicks out of it.

Happy with what’s in the trolley Kon heads to pay for everything. He just hopes that all the clothes fit him because they’ve just estimated with sizing, but either way if the clothes are too big on Tim at least they’ll fit better than what he’s got on now. Kon’s not too worried about the cost of everything, a bonus of having a stinky rich boyfriend who allows you to use their card every now and again, so really Tim is paying for it and not Kon.

After once again getting questioned for Tim’s state of dress and paying for the items Kon and Tim leave the shop with three full bags. Kon puts Tim on his shoulders and carries the bags in both hands, he walks a good distance away from the shop and out of sight of anyone else before lifting up into the air and once again heading for Metropolis.

[sophie-zadeh]

Ums and Ers in Speech: Should we be concerned?

Fillers in conversation, like ‘um’ and ‘er’, tend to be viewed negatively. However, there’s plenty of evidence that they serve a valuable purpose during communication. In this article, we’ll look at some of the suggested meanings behind these discourse markers, with the aim of breaking negative connotations.

If you’re aware of your use of these utterances and are concerned about how you use them, hopefully, I can put you at ease.

‘Um’ is also known as, or can sound like, ‘em’ or ‘mmm’.

‘Er’ is is also known as, or can sound like, ‘uh’ or ‘ah’.

Vocal Delivery is an area of Nonverbal Communication

A large area of nonverbal communication is vocal delivery—how we deliver our words. This area includes speed, pitch, volume, intonation, inflexion, etcetera—anything that isn’t an exact word. When people struggle with the concept that nonverbal communication forms the majority component of our communication, it’s usually because they think of body language and facial expression as nonverbal communication, not realising the vocal delivery is also a key area.

A statement can take on different implied meanings, depending on where the vocal emphasis is placed. Let’s take the statement, ‘I didn’t say he lost his car’, try saying this with emphasis on each word in the statement each time you say it. It sounds different each time.

Every time you shift the emphasis to another word, consider what the implied meaning could be.

For example, if the emphasis is placed on the word ‘car’, the implied meaning could be that ‘he’ lost something else, not his ‘car’. Perhaps he lost his ‘card’. What else could be implied by this single, short statement? This is one way nonverbal communication adds meaning to verbal communication.

Since utterances like ums and ers are not exact words, they fall under the umbrella of nonverbal communication. That said, some researchers would argue that the meanings of these utterances are so specific that they are part of language and should therefore be classed as words.

Ums and Ers are Filled Pauses

One long-standing and commonly known theory is that ums and ers are filled pauses. Typically when a speaker (silently) pauses during a conversation, the conversation partner sees this as their cue to start talking. By filling the pause with an um or er, the speaker gains the time to gather their thoughts and at the same time is signalling, “I’m not done yet”. They hold the floor of the conversation without being interrupted. In public speaking, however, they don’t serve the same purpose as a signal, because the communication is typically one way—the floor is already held.

These pauses are needed during most interactions, to provide speakers with time to recall, search for or select the relevant word or phrase so that they can correctly express themselves. Depending on who we’re talking to and what we’re talking about, we adapt our words and construct our sentences to give the receiver the message we want them to receive. Some people do the same thing with nonverbal communication, deliberately using specific behaviours to assist in getting the right message across. This can be tied to deception, which leads me to the next point—ums and ers as a way of self-correcting.

Ums and Ers to Self-Correct

Sometimes, ums and ers are used in speech directly after misspoken words or phrases. Typically, these are shorter, sharper utterances, which can sound like desperate attempts to erase what was said. Of course, when these happen, it doesn’t necessarily mean that someone is being deceptive, they may have just used the wrong expression. So if you find yourself doing this, don’t panic that it seems like you’re lying. This is a typical way of self-correction and none of us are perfectly fluent.

I’d be interested to hear Statement Analyst, Colin Ector’s comments on this, with his expertise in statement analysis, from the perspective of deception detection. Colin joined My Alcomy recently as a contributor to the blog and statement analysis service provider.

Er as an Warning Signal of an Upcoming Statement

Sometimes an er is used before the speaker makes a statement which could result in a negative response by the conversation partner (or audience). This type of er, as filled pause, perhaps signals the speaker’s hesitation, signalling, “I know this sounds bad, but…”, signalling a warning to get ready for what’s about to be said.

For example, “Er, excuse me, would you mind not smoking in the queue? It’s bothering me quite a bit and I think the other people are affected too.” This is what I once said to someone smoking in a long and winding taxi queue outside Sydney airport. The (pre-social distancing) queue was so tightly packed that many of us were inhaling his smoke. People around were visibly bothered and rightly so. I’m assuming the smoker was desperate for a smoke after a flight. The queue was directly outside the airport doors and was much longer than usual, so his urgency to get into the queue probably came before finding somewhere more acceptable to smoke.

I had a feeling someone was going to say something and I was concerned that a fight might break out, taking us all down with it. So I figured, that I (once labelled ‘the diplomat’ as a child) was the right person to deliver it. I knew that I may receive a negative response but I’m a firm believer that you can say awkward or sensitive things in a nice way. Part of this is using positive nonverbal behaviours to soften the blow of the statement. In hindsight, I’m not sure what behaviours I used, but knowing myself, it was most probably a smile and an initial brief touch on the forearm to get his attention. For once, being tiny felt like an advantage and probably negated potential perceptions of dominance and aggression. And I was sure that if I was in trouble people would step in to help. Side note for bartenders—please serve small people.

His response, “Of course—sorry”, as he exhaled up into the air, then extinguished his cigarette. I observed simultaneous relief and quiet exhales in those around me. I followed with a big smile, a nod and a, “thank you”, as everybody turned away, resuming their queuing orientation.

Teachers Using Er for Attention and Command

When I lived in the UK, a lot of my work was based in schools working with teachers or students. With colleagues, I’d visit schools, mostly in the North West, often working in several schools each week. We’d notice the use of loud, audible er, as a command by teachers to gain the attention of the children to settle them down. This er seemed to resonate from deep within the chest and is most certainly an attention grabber. Sometimes it would catch me off guard and I’d jump in response.

The teachers would use this when students behaviour became rowdy or unacceptable. I’m not sure if this otherwise uncommon behaviour is limited to North West or UK schools, or whether it happens elsewhere too. If you’re a teacher, please share your thoughts.

This type of er often had no words surrounding it, but a long pause and hard stare followed. Before long, I found myself using it in the schools I visited, for the same reasons. The habit seems to spread easily. Thinking logically and with the er as a warning signal in mind, I think it’s exactly that, a warning signal. Despite usually having no words surrounding it, perhaps this is a warning that if student behaviour didn’t change, trouble was to come. Perhaps the er was all that needed to be said after previous conditioning that an er of this nature comes with stern words and the possibility of punishment. Pavlov’s Dogs springs to mind.

Ums and Ers are not a Stress Behaviour

Contrary to what many people believe, ums and ers are not indicative of stress. Research suggests the same utterances don’t decrease when we’re chilling with the family.

Ums and Ers Don’t Indicate a Lack of Confidence

While ums and ers typically increase when we are unprepared, for example, during public speaking or when speaking on a topic we don’t know much about, it doesn’t mean the speaker lacks confidence. Because being unprepared doesn’t always go hand in hand with a lack of confidence. An over-use of ums and ers can be an issue for over-confident people who don’t bother preparing for a speech and for those who aren’t overly confident but decide to wing it.

Ums and Ers in Public Speaking

Even when a speaker is prepared and well-rehearsed, ums and ers can still occur during public speaking. In this case, they are not signalling to hold the floor, since they already hold it, but the speaker may still use them as a means to pause and gather their thoughts.

Generally speaking, and especially in regards to public speaking, people view these utterances negativity. Rehearsing and preparing can reduce the amount of ums and ers because the preparation in thinking and delivering has been done. However, if you’re giving a talk and you’re well prepared, keep an eye on your pace and don’t try to eliminate pauses, to give your audience time to process.

What’s interesting are studies into how listeners respond to these filled pauses, especially those in the field of neuroscience. Activation in the brain’s of listeners, suggests that ums and ers can act as a cue to pay attention to what’s coming—engagement is held at these points! So maybe there are benefits to moderate use of ums and ers during public speaking. What’s more, there’s evidence suggesting that listeners can better recognise words after ums and ers and that there are no detrimental effects.

Like with using most nonverbal behaviours, there’s a sweet spot. If your speech is filled to the brim with ums and ers, whether it’s true or not, you’re more likely to be perceived as not being prepared or not being competent. So take preparation seriously. And when ums and ers happen in moderation, embrace your filled pauses.

Get in Touch

If you need more guidance with your um and er usage, if you want to learn more about perceptions of vocal power or if you want to work on your vocal delivery, contact us for coaching and training.

[sheusedtobesassier]

Day 10,331

Awake and ready to get back to it.

Alrighty so summer kicked off and that means everybody is busy almost all the time. Omar was working in the kitchen and so was one my dearest pals Courtney. The two of them were enormously fond of each other from square one. It was really hard for me to resist being in there with them, haha. They were always having the most fun. A lot of times at the end of the day they’d stay in the kitchen talking about anything and everything. Courtney is outrageous in the best ways. She’s a wifey and her husband, noticing the fast friendship, made some bizarre comment about how if Omar ever made a move on her she should scream for help. Courtney told me about it and said, “The only scream I’d scream is of ecstasy.” Haha. So yeah they were a chummy pair.

She wasn’t the only one who was partial to him. Majority of the staff I was fond of were noticeably fond of Omar. Taurilyn and Isaac and Bekah and Amber. It was seriously odd how frequently another friend would come up to me to specifically rave about him. He was having an affect. I was getting my job and he was doing his, but without consciously choosing it I was starting to be very aware of where he was at all times. Pretty early on remarks were getting made and eyebrows were being waggled at us, but I dealt with those pretty harshly. Shut that shit down. I wasn’t interested in flirting my summer in charge away. No thank you. I defended our friendship. I would snap that a guy and a girl could get along well without there being flirtatious undertones. And I meant it! I didn’t want everybody behaving in ways that would spotlight our interactions and turn the fun into awkward. Courtney asked me daily if I had a crush on him and I swore over and over that I didn’t. I wouldn’t even consider it. I wasn’t fucking around!

Cue Father’s Day 2017. We had a sweet girl named May Qing on staff and she was Catholic. I let her know I could take her to mass on Sunday. I mentioned to some friends how gorgeous the masses I’d experienced were and said they should come with if they wanted to. A few said they were interested. So that morning I pulled the white Accord in front of Maple and txted some Foremen that I was outside. Omar came out almost straight away. But uh, he was just standing out there, like didn’t seem to realize I was in the car. And I just let him because uh, lol, I wanted to wait for May Qing to get in the car because being alone with him felt like it would be loaded. So. She eventually did and nobody else appeared, so the three of us went to St. John the Baptist Catholic Church. And lol. Mass was beautiful and hushed. By that I of course mean it was pretty sexy. Lol I can’t explain that if you haven’t felt it. Um. Lots of glancing at each other and looking away. Smirking. Mutual fascination. Haha, May Qing was there too and would quietly respond to our few questions. It was really something. Afterwards we drove back to camp and I had to put out breakfast in the Staff Lounge. Omar walked up with me and asked what I would do with the rest of my morning. I was told him, “Well now I’ve gotta take everyone else to church.” He was surprised and was like, “Oh no way. If you’re doubling up, I am too. You don’t get to be more holy than me.” I laughed and said of course he could. I believe I was wearing the pinkest flowiest short dress this day. Mm, mm. So. We rounded everybody up and went to another church service. We sat together behind everybody else (which we'd done every Sunday since he got there.) We had similar frustrations with the church our staff went to, specifically with things the pastor chose to say into his microphone. So sitting together gave us the chance to exchange our subtle defiant commentary. Hm. That Sunday was Father’s Day. I knew Omar’s dad was out of the picture, so it was bugging me to listen to the fatherly hype, wondering if it was stressful for him. I paid attention to him on Sunday mornings. Mentally and honestly uh lol physically to. I was very conscious of the closeness. And like, that morning in particular we’d already been so close so much. So. Hahaha. Okay butterflies were no longer something I could deny. When we returned to camp for lunch I was like, I snapped out of the attraction trance enough to be like, “Girl. You need to get away from him before you get in trouble.” So. I changed out of my dress, ate the meal quickly, and went up to my office to get stuff done/hide out. And uh. WOULDN’T YOU KNOW IT. Omar came strolling in. He skipped the chairs and popped down on the floor right next to my legs. Stretched himself out. Which haha. I’m not sure if that was the first time he’d done that, because it’s a choice he made many more times that summer. I’m pretty sure I blushed and was immediately flustered. We chatted more. I asked if all the father stuff was too much for him and he was like, “Not really. I had a bad dad, but I know there’s good dads out there.” The lights were off in my office which they usually were if there was good sunlight coming in. My feet were bare. And he was really looking at me and I was struggling to look back at him. It was informal and we both knew. Like I wasn’t acting like his boss and he definitely wasn’t there because he worked for me. Um. Hahaha. So. Eventually he had to leave to start his shift and I returned to what I’d been trying to accomplish. But. That evening when Courtney asked me if I had a crush on Omar, instead of my normal eye rolling, I turned red. I told her I wasn’t sure. And I told her, “After this morning, I am pretty thoroughly convinced he has a crush on me.” She lit up and held her breath while I gave details. Then while I was still talking she interrupted and asked, “So you’re sure he likes you. Like you have zero doubts about it?” When I nodded she was like, “Okay then I have soooo much I need to tell you about.” And then she shared some of the most interesting details I ever heard. 

Hahaha. Okay, okay. So. It’s a good story. So. It turned out from square one, Courtney was big time invested in getting Omar to open up and talk to her about the girls on staff. She watched the way ladies behaved around him and took note of his responses to whoever came through the kitchen. She was fascinated by it all and relentless pestering him to confess anything. Early on he admitted that he was drawn to someone, but that he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Then he locked it down. Wouldn’t give her anything else no matter how hard she tried. So she started guessing. This method worked because it would infuriate him, haha. She’d guess a name and he’d gasp, “Why would you even think that??” She’d give her reasons why and he’d give his reasons for why not. It happened enough times that he told her she made him feel bad, as if he was flirting around when he wasn’t. She didn’t lay off. One evening after watching me and him mess around during dinner clean up, Courtney asked him, “Omar. Will you not tell me who you like because I’m really close with her and you think I’ll tell her?” He got very serious very quick and was like, “Quit asking me about it.” She dropped it. The next day they were finishing up with the lunch shift and Omar had agreed to stay after and help out with dessert for dinner. I came in because we had a meeting scheduled that Omar had obviously forgotten about. I was a little huffy but not that upset about it and said we’d find another time to meet. I headed out and was surprised when he suddenly came running to catch up with me. According to Courtney he’d seemed overwhelmed about forgetting and when she was like, “Just get dessert done.” He was like, “I’m so sorry.” and took off.

Hahaha. I want to fully describe what I remember about the conversation he and I had that afternoon but it’ll interrupt the flow of what Courtney was telling me. So I’ll be brief. It was a long long walk. We went down the whole length of camp, through a small patch of woods, that came back along the side of County Y. For reasons I can’t explain I ended up telling him the the story of the fling I was in the summer I was a Foreman?? I wrapped it up with like, “We admitted we’d probably never be together outside of Sky Lodge and that we might as well just stay friends.” And like right about then we were at the back door of the kitchen, so I called it done and sent him back in there. I honestly said what I said because I wanted come off as desirable, but he told me later he definitely took it as me hinting that he should back off. Haha. Okay. Back to Courtney’s perspective.

She was annoyed that he’d bailed on the work and waiting for him to return. She heard him come in the back but he didn’t appear. She waited a little more and was unsure about what was happening. She started looking around for him and was surprised to find him just standing in the walk in cooler looking so pressed. She asked, “Omar? Are you okay?” and he said something like, “We’re not going to say her name. But you know who I like. And this summer is going to be harrrrd.”

So. Courtney passed this info onto me and I uh, lol, I had no fucking clue what to do with it. I mean. This was the worst timing. And like, he was a fox but like. This was not what my summer was supposed to be for. So I did what I do whenever I can’t make a decision, I called my mom. She told me a story about a summer she was traveling around on a worship team. One of the guys was into her and she could tell, but she didn’t feel like it was appropriate for their situation. So my mama friendzoned him. It seemed wise to me. We hung up and Courtney popped her head in my office to check on me. I told her I was taking my mom’s advice and gonna officially tell him to cool it. She was immediately like, “Why would you do that?” hahaha. She was not on board. She said no a few times and then as suddenly as she showed up she left.