#beta fat gum

[redbirb]

Omegakiriweek 2021 | Day 7

Fandom: BNHA | MHA Pairing: implied FatKiri & RappaKiri | implied Fatgum/Kirishima & Rappa/Kirishima Rated M: Mature, omegaverse, omega!kiri, kiri w/ a pussy, beta!fatgum, alpha!rappa, sexual harassment, mention of violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, implied underage

D1 | D2 | D3 | D4 | D5 | D6

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Day 7: Free Day! (Solo angst with a happy ending / implied FatKiri & RappaKiri)

He wakes in a hospital and his first thought is, I’m not dead?

Everything aches, he’s bandaged from head to toe, and incredibly hungry.

Vague blurs of memory start to resurface: desperation to help his mentor, pain ricocheting through each limb, a hardened resolve pushing them to victory.

He feels elation for five seconds and then crushing self-doubt. Had he done enough? He’d taken more damage than he should for someone claiming to be a ‘sturdy hero’.

He expected to face villains that were mean, big and scary. Rappa was more than big, very scary and a little mean. An alpha that towered over him with a grin that held a dark promise. He didn’t hold back punches even if Kirishima was an omega and barely came up to his waist.

‘Pretty thing can fight.’ Rappa had laughed, rows of pearly whites set in a grin. ‘I like that in an omega.’

He shivers remembering it. Every hit had him sweating, pushing himself harder and harder. Rappa’s mix of praise and harassment got his blood pumping hot, the need to prove himself. Fatgum had been right there all the way, both of them trying hard not to think of Suneater hanging back to give them this chance.

Struggling to sit up, a large and warm hand stops him by the shoulder, gently urging him back.

“Easy, Riot. You need to rest,” a tired voice instructs.

Crimson eyes blink and look up into a familiar face. Fatgum is in his skinny form, something that still makes his mind reel. The warm hand moves to sweep red locks out of his face in a soft caress. It’s that care that breaks the final wall down, crumbling into sobs.

“M’sorry, I was tryin' t'be strong—”

Shame felt hot on his cheeks, tears falling down quick. This terrible feeling has wormed its way into his chest, something ugly and cold with clawed hands that squeeze his heart painfully.

Rappa’s deep rasp had made him slick. The adrenaline and presence of a powerful alpha, scent unbearably thick and dominant in the room, had been enough to make him dizzy. His scent blockers were soaked, sliding off in the middle of the fight to add to the cocktail. Worse yet had been his arousal, watching Fatgum protect him with an unwavering smile.

Rappa had laughed, tongue licking over his teeth in hunger. ‘Little omega likes the show.’

'Eyes on me, pal!' Fatgum had snapped, the first true sign of anger Ei had ever seen out of the giant beta. He'd stood in Red Riot's path immediately after, blocking the hulking alpha's view. 'He ain't yours to toy with.'

The alpha's smile had only grown bigger. 'S'that so? Does that make him yours?'

He should've felt humiliated, beaten into a corner, pussy leaking from all the conflicting scents. He was supposed to be stronger.

But when the beta dug his heels in the floor and yelled 'he's mine to protect!' the omega felt joy burst like a bubble inside him. It splattered inside his chest and down into his belly, honey-sweet and sticky. Something bloomed there, something suspiciously like hope and determination.

And in seconds he was back on his feet giving it his all, forcing himself to go harder, harder, harder.

His fists clench, knuckles bruised and aching. Was any of it enough?

A finger pokes his forehead, gently applying pressure until his head is laid back on a soft pillow. His gaze tilts up, blinking to see clearer past the drying tears.

"Ya did real good out there, Riot. Don't be thinkin' any different, ya hear?" A finger crooks, taking care to wipe away any errant tears. “I’m proud of ya, real proud.”

His lip wobbles, but he refuses to cry again. “But I—”

“No buts, pup,” a soft admonish, fondly by a soft boop to his nose. “I know ya thinkin’ all these thoughts, drivin’ yerself crazy. And I’m tellin’ ya it’s okay, you did good, real good out there.”

He opens his mouth to say something, a raised brow stopping him. Eijiro’s pout turns into a huff, fighting a smile as Fatgum laughs at his little defiance.

“Being a ‘Mega doesn’t make you weak.” The Pro Hero sinks back in the uncomfortable plastic chair he’s occupied for the last four hours. “Ya proved yerself today tenfold. I knew you had it in you.”

The pain in his chest starts to ease, caused by the kind comfort of his mentor or the dose of medicine running through the IV, he isn’t sure. He truly sinks back into the hospital bed, trying to get comfortable.

“I want to get stronger,” he whispers, eyes drooping.

“Ya will get there,” is promised back.

He falls into a strange dream, one filled with big smiles and hands, soft touches to his cheek. Happiness mixed with longing, the smell of fresh baked bread and dumplings invading every little crevice of his mind.

He doesn’t wake when Fatgum gets up again an hour later, pressing the sweetest kiss to his forehead.

[peachysunrize]

The King’s Retribution ⥃ prince Aemond Targaryen

Summary: when he walks back to the Keep, Aemond finds his brother’s wife in distress while her youngest child keeps her awake. Maybe it’s time to show the King that no one can humiliate the one-eyed prince.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, rough sex, lactation kink, reader is Aegon’s wife, post B&C, s2e3 inspired, dacryphilia, Aemond feels humiliated after the brothel scene, hair pulling, doggystyle, they do it in Aegon’s rooms👀 kind of a chubby/overweight reader because she has baby weight, tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 3.6k+

A/n: a very special thank you to @aemonds-holy-milk for this incredible request!!! And a very honorable mention and thank you to @arcielee for helping me with the plot and beta-ing for me! Your touch made this much hotter and better!🩷 Reblogs and comments are more than welcome<33

Aemond pushes the door to one of Maegor’s tunnels, peeking through to see if anyone is around. He scoffs when he finds the hallway empty, with no guards, no maids or handmaidens. He walks upstairs to the royal chamber’s floor, one hand pushing his hood off while the other twirls his dagger.

He is filled with such rage that he can burn this castle down without Vhagar’s help. The sting of humiliation keeps poking through his ribs, making him heave with each breath he takes. He had to keep his composure back in the brothel, he had to show his power by walking outside the room naked as the day he was born to regain some control his brother took away from him.

He walks past the rooms of his family, skipping a stair here or two as he follows the path to his chambers in silence, until he reaches his brother’s doors, catching the sound of a soft hiccuping and muffled wailing of a child.

Aemond unsheathes the dagger as he steps closer to the unguarded door, shaking his head in disbelief at his brother’s ignorance, especially after what happened to Jaehaerys. He opens the door slowly, not wanting to startle whoever is inside — a nursemaid or the queen.

He finds you sitting in front of the fireplace with baby Maelor crying fat tears in your arms as he tries to latch onto your exposed breasts to fill his tiny, hungry belly. Aemond’s eye wanders over your bare upper body; heavy swollen teats leaking with milk, a tired and teary expression on your face as you try to lull your son back to sleep, tending to him, caressing him, loving him. 

He has never seen a sight more beautiful than this.

He sheathes his dagger and pushes it into his belt before knocking on your door gently so as not to scare you and his nephew. He watches you closely as you snap your head in his direction, the tension leaving your shoulders as you smile at him sadly.

“Aemond,” you call him, gasping when your son bites your already sore nipple with his gums, trying to latch on to it but failing. He cries harder, face twisted angrily, his chubby cheeks red and puffy with how long he’s been searching for some comfort.

“Please, please don’t — mommy is trying,” you cry with him softly, standing up to pace around the room while you rock him, shushing him and wiping his tears. You are trying your hardest to feed him properly, but every second is wasted in vain as he cries and fusses in your arms.

Aemond closes the door behind him, enraptured with the sight you made—watching you walk around the room, half bare and beautiful to his eager eye.  He unfastens his cloak and belt that holds his daggers and sword before laying it on the nearest table, walking towards you with his hands locked behind his back.

You look like The Mother coming real, a god he should worship at your altar.

“Oh, my darling boy,” you coo at Maelor, sniffing as he sobs harder, his little fists flying on your chest as he searches for your breast, mouth parted and ready to be filled with his late-night meal.

Aemond stands behind you, not too close to intrude on your personal space, especially in such a vulnerable state you are in, but to keep looking at you. His eye roams across your nude chest, your fuller stomach, and hips that carry the remaining weight of having pushed a babe into the world.

He listens to your words, remembering the sight of his brother mocking him at the brothel, while he was being cuddled and taken care of — what an ugly laugh he has, Aegon. 

His gaze darkens as he looks at you, his queen, his brother’s wife, his brother’s possession, being so vulnerable in his presence with your breasts out and your child finally suckling on them. His eye finds your form once more as Aegon's words replay in his ears — ‘My brother will not sample another.’ He will make sure to teach his brother a very valuable lesson and serve him a good punishment.

His cock starts to swell beneath the layers of his clothing as he stares at you with a newfound passion; you have always been a lovely figure in his mind, too sweet and beautiful to be wed to his brother, and yet, now your features seem to be bolder in his eye.

He strides forward when he hears Maelor crying again, this time much softer but a cry nonetheless. You scurry to cover your breasts when you feel him behind you, trying to look at least a bit modest now that your child is less fussy.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, I-I forgot you came to visit,” you say in a hushed tone, waiting with bated breath for him to say something.

He looks down at his nephew over your shoulder, reaching to wipe a drop of milk from his round cheek near his mouth, his fingers brushing against your sore nipple accidentally. Both of you inhale sharply — him with the new rush of desire and you in surprise. 

“What a messy eater,” he says, his eye meeting yours as he brings his wet finger to his mouth, licking the remaining of your milk off while he keeps eye contact with you, dropping his eye to your lips as soon as they part in surprise before he meets your eyes again — they look darker, cloudier, more lustful. Your lashes flutter, and your rosy lips let out a shaky breath as you keep your gaze on his pink tongue licking his finger.

“It runs in the family I’m afraid,” you reply, averting your eyes from him, pressing a kiss on top of your son’s head as you bounce him, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Despite how crude your husband is, he’s never been one for making you flustered by such a simple gesture, and yet, his brother seems to be the complete opposite; bold, daring, and he’s surely taking whatever he wants.

“May I?�� Aemond asks, standing in front of you with extended arms, reaching to take Maelor in his embrace. You gently pass him over, and as soon as your arms are free you bring them to your chest to cover your breasts.

“I-I need to—would you mind holding him for a moment?” You pull the front of your shift up as you ask him, and he can’t help his gaze not fall back on your chest but looks upward to your eyes quickly before you catch him and nod.

He hugs Maelor close, resting his little head on his shoulder as he walks towards his crib, glancing at you walking past the privacy screen. Aemond shushes his nephew, rocking him gently while he hums a tune his mother used to sing for him to lull him to sleep. It seems his efforts have worked when Maelor grows quiet, tinted cheeks stained with tears and fingers fisted tightly. Aemond lies him down slowly, brushing a finger over the few strands of his nephew’s silver hair before his attention is turned to you walking towards him with a warm towel over your chest.

“He has been restless as of late,” you sigh, leaning down to brush a kiss on your son’s forehead, standing on Aemond’s good side, “as have I, as everyone in the Keep. It seems he feels the loss of his brother.”

“We are all shaken by the loss of Jaehaerys,” he replies, his good eye looking up at your face, taking in every up and down of your face.

“Yeah,” you smile at him, ducking your head as soon as the tears gather in your eyes, “yeah…”

He takes a step closer, reaching to wipe the tear that fell from your eye, cupping your cheek in his large hand, “What ails you, my queen?”

“I just…” words die in your throat as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek, tracing the shape of your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve been feeling so unloved.” Your voice comes out a fragile whisper.

“Why is that, my queen?” He asks, swallowing harshly at the thought of his fool of a brother being neglectful to you. He’s been given the most beautiful maiden in the realm as his wife, so dutiful and sweet, but taken for granted because Aegon can’t simply keep his cock in his breeches for so long.

“Did you happen to see him when you were out?” You ignore his question, looking up at him from beneath your wet lashes that frame your eyes so perfectly.

He nods, his strong hold on your face never faltering, if anything he’s now more determined to punish Aegon, to take something he has been given on a silver plate but failed to care for. His touch is warm and welcoming, it grounds you to this moment of brief recognition of your feelings. Aemond seems to understand it, willing to give more, but his main purpose of this visit is to hurt Aegon the way he has hurt him.

“Was he—“ a sob is stuck in your throat as you try to utter the words, “in the b-brothel?”

Aemond looks down at his muddy boots, recalling how his brother saw him, how he laughed and undermined him in front of his friends. Aemond forgets about your question for a second, pressing his lips into a thin line and gritting his teeth before he looks back up at you, not before looking one last time at your chest, watching your milk soak through the fabric.

“I-I apologize, maybe it’s best if you leave—” You move away from him, making his hand fall from your face as you try to put back the little dignity you have left before you embarrass yourself more in front of him.

Something shifts inside him as you hide yourself from him, putting more distance between as you move toward the bed. His brother was right; he has not sampled another and has always sought out the Madame, but maybe it ought to change, maybe the fire of his brother’s cruelty might quell if he takes his most precious possession from him.

“Allow me to help you, my queen,” he walks toward you slowly, his eye seizing you up, taking in the sight of your curls around your shoulders, your skin glowing under the orange hues of the candles.

You turn around, watching him take long steps until he’s standing in front of you. He raises his hand, brushing his knuckles on your collarbones, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage. You exhale shakily, whether it is in requited desire or surprise, he does not know, but you do not push him away, just a weak protest that ‘we should not do this, I am your brother’s wife.’

“My brother is a fool who demeans others to feel powerful, and he has done this to us both,” he dips his down on your neck, his hot breath fanning on your ear, “let me show you what you have been deprived of.”

“You wish to help me just to teach your king a lesson?” your voice comes out with a slight tremble as you reach to brush your fingers through his silky hair. “Is that truly why you want me?”

“I despise when Aegon takes what is his for granted,” he says, “He is a fucking twat who takes for granted the treasures he has been given: the throne, the crown, you. And he humiliates you, his queen, by stepping inside that sinful place," he mumbles against your skin, tracing his lips over your neck while his nose nudges your cheek. 

“What do you want to do?” you whine when he bites your earlobe; you cling to his shoulders.

“I wish to fuck you like a hound,” he groans into your ear, his hands coming to grip your full hips.

“We will experience his wrath, Aemond,” you try to protest, but with how focused he is on marking your skin, you cannot help but melt in his arms.

“He is the king, I’m a kinslayer,” he hovers his mouth over yours. “I will kill him too if he dares to subject you to his anger.”

“We must be quiet-mhm—” he cuts you off, smashing his lips to yours, swallowing your protest. His hands move to your waist, gripping and caressing wherever he can reach, his tongue meeting yours in a soft battle of dominance. 

You moan into his mouth when one of his fingers traces a line from your hip up to your breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his large palm. He groans against your sweet lips in delight, loving the weight of you in his hand. His thumb swipes across the wet towel before he pulls it out of your shift and drops it on the floor, leading you backward past the privacy screen to the bed.

You tangle your fingers in his soft hair, reaching to pull away the tie and letting his shiny silver hair frame his face beautifully while he kisses your breath away.

He lies you on the bed, breaking away from your lips for a second to look down at you, making room on top of you with his gaze fixed on the way your milk soaks through the fabric. He grabs the sides of your shift, ready to rip it apart before you put your hand on his, shaking your head, mumbling a hushed ‘we need to be quiet’ before taking off the dress yourself, lying under his heated gaze all bare except for your small clothes.

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” he mutters before he leans down to lick a path from your neck to your heaving chest, swiping the tip of his tongue over your nipple. He hums as he tastes a few beads of your milk, but abruptly stops when you whine, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“Maelor, well, he can’t latch onto his wet nurses. They are a bit s-sensitive— oh!” Your hand flies to your mouth when Aemond closes his lips around your bud, sucking like a babe being starved for hours, finally having his fill.

His other hand moves to your other breast, pinching, squeezing, and playing with the flesh while he gets drunk on your milk, helping the weight of discomfort vanish immediately.

Your nipple falls from his lips with a lewd ‘pop’, and he moves to the other one, giving the same attention while he leaves sticky lines of your milk across your chest, sucking on your teat quickly, nearly growling at the taste.

You cannot do anything besides moaning behind your hand and arching your back, pushing your chest further into his face. You throw your head back as your hips buck into his, his bulge rubbing against your covered core.

Aegon has never done this for you, it’s always been his duty to plant his seed inside you with little to no care for you to just make an heir, and after Jaehaerys, he’s been ever more distant — no more dinners, no walks in the garden with you and the kids.

His interest weakened the more you started to show, your soft dolce features turned into one of a woman, a mother-to-be, so he sought his pleasure in the brothels to fill the void you could no longer fill. You were non-existent in his eyes, and for once, you are glad, because the other Targaryen brother seems as if he’s in heaven while he feasts upon your breasts like a deprived babe. 

He lets go of your nipple finally, giving the fat of your breast one last kiss before he works his way up to your lips. He unlaces his pants and breeches, urging you to reach and undo his doublet, dropping it down on the pile of clothes. He breaks away to gasp for air while he grabs the back of his linen shirt and stands on his knees stark naked, his cock red, angry, and ready to burst inside you. His mouth shines with drops of your milk and spit.

He grabs the back of your thighs, spreading your legs to his hungry eye, licking his lip as his gaze falls on your soaked cunt. Aemond’s patience runs thinner than before, he moves closer to you, and his hair falls around you like a silver waterfall.

He strokes himself a few times before aligning himself with your entrance, pushing in until his cockhead is inside your warm cunt before he slams all the way into you. He muffles your scream with his own lips, hands coming to rest around your head, caging you under him as he starts thrusting.

Finally, he thinks, finally he has taken something that belonged to his brother, something so precious and fragile. You are nothing like Sylvie, you are soft and delicate, you taste deliciously sweet, and oh so responsive. 

He relishes the way you scratch his back as he fucks you with abandon, snapping his hips into yours furiously as he lets the pent-up anger he feels pour out of him. It is the anger he had inside because of his brother’s idiocy, the words that cut him deep like a sharp dagger.

But no more, no, it is time to take whatever belonged to Aegon. You are just a beautiful touch to it, and he would make sure his brother knows who’s been here, on his bed, giving his wife the pleasure she has never experienced before.

“My queen,” he shushes you, reaching down to collect a drop of your milk before reaching to smear it on your lips, licking it off them. His cock pistoning inside of you quickly, but he is mindful of the baby sleeping on the other side of the privacy screen.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, breasts bouncing with each deep thrust as you try to keep your voice at bay.

He remembers his brother’s words once more; ‘did you fuck her like a hound?’ No, not with the Madame, but he will fuck the queen of the seven Kingdoms like one now.

He pulls out of you, leaving you clenching and whining at the empty feeling before he flips you over on your stomach, pulling your hips up as he spits into his hand and strokes himself before making home inside your tight cunt again, his cock reaching deeper with this position.

You fist the pillows under your hands, biting the fabric to muffle your noises, and Aemond notices that it is your husband’s pillow you are lying on.

He chuckles lowly, one hand gripping the fat of your hip while the other runs down the curve of your spine before he fists your hair in his much larger hand, pushing your head into Aegon’s pillow even more.

“Breathe in his scent while I fuck you like a dog in heat, yes, good girl,” he groans, his limbs tingling with pleasure and anger, letting his emotions take the best of him as he picks up his pace. “Yes, remember how much of a pathetic husband he is, think of how he can never give you pleasure like I can while I fuck my child inside you.”

Tears run down your face from how intense he is taking you from behind, his hips snap into your arse. Your wetness drips down on the bed sheets, but there is little you can do but take what he gives you — a blinding and mind-blowing pleasure you have never had with your husband.

Aemond reaches around your body to find your pearl, rubbing quick and steady circles on the bundle of nerves, leaning down to prep your spine with feather-like kisses, taking in your mesmerizing scent, and looking closer at your tears, taking pure satisfaction in seeing what a mess he has made out of Aegon’s wife, the realm’s queen.

You come with a sob, teeth digging into the soft cushion while your legs shake, walls clamping down against his girth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. He lets go of your weeping cunt and grabs your bouncing breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his hand while his face falters, his thrusts deepen.

When his climax washes over him, it’s all white hot pleasure that rushes through his veins. He shakes atop you while his cock twitches and shoots ropes of his warm spend deep inside you, filling you to the brim. He kisses your tears, his face pushed against your cheek as he lets out broken gasps and groans.

He untangles his fingers from your hair as soon as he calms down from his high, bringing his milk-covered hand to his lips to lick it clean while he meets your eyes.

You look angelic, glowing with the aftermath of your release. The Mother came to life, he thinks.

He pulls out of you gently, minding how sensitive you must feel after the brutality he bestowed upon you. Aemond helps you under the covers, not caring to clean either of you up before he lies down next to you wrapping one arm around you while you curl next to him with your head on his chest.

He notes how quiet you are, drowsy and sleepy in the aftermath of your climax. He takes pride in how peaceful you look, and how good he must have made you feel. His good eye falls on the nightstand on his side, finding his brother — no, the Conqueror's crown — glinting under candlelight.

“I will kill him,” he whispers, “I will make sure our son sits upon that chair and holds Blackfyre. I will kill him, and no one shall ever know it was me.”

[enbyenvy666]

personal pornstar Part 1/?

Being a hero can be overwhelming at times. Stressful and demanding, rarely having a break long enough to practise some self care. All to help and benefit our community. So why not get something back from the community? Hire your companion today! --------

Falling on hard times led you to signing up to become a 'companion' for Pro Heroes, hoping to make a quick buck, but instead you became the 3rd part of a famous hero couple who show you love in ways you never expected.

established!kiribaku x masc!reader eventual smut (will be a cismale version and a transmale version) word count - 1.7k

CONTENT WARNINGS - 18+ themes, eating food, swearing, sex work? except there isn't any sex yet, reader is broke, reader is implied to have piercings, google translate french, no beta (if i've missed anything please let me know)

You had seen the adverts. A website in which Pro Heroes can order ‘companions’ to help them de-stress. You weren’t a pro, no, quite the opposite actually. The ads were definitely targeted, you were seeing them because you were broke and in need of some cash in order to live. There were nights where you really considered joining while eating from a cup of ramen noodles as your third meal that day, for the fourth day in a row.

But when you did peruse the website out of curiosity, it didn’t specify what the companions would be hired for. It didn’t say it was sexual, but it didn’t deny it either. It seemed almost like a sugar baby/sugar parent type situation, where you would be financially compensated for ‘favours’. Some heroes were well off financially which was very appealing, but there were also some lesser known heroes who could be into some really freaky shit with not a lot of compensation for it.

After getting your electricity bill, you bit the bullet and signed up. You had to sign an NDA when creating your account, which you felt was a little over the top but your empty bank account was enough motivation to continue. Uploading a couple of more recent pictures, including a couple spicier ones from times you were really feeling yourself, and writing a small bio trying to hype yourself up, you eagerly waited for some kind of response. But eventually you forgot about it, focusing on your minimum wage job instead.

Until you checked your phone during your lunch break and found that you had received a message from ‘Rouge_ Émeute’. While the message contained simple instructions, it was written nicely with ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s sprinkled throughout. They wanted to meet you at a private restaurant, a restaurant you recognised to be a safe haven for Heroes to dine at without flashing cameras in their faces.

It was also an expensive restaurant, which made you feel giddy about one of the more popular heroes wanting to meet you. Putting on your best button up and slacks, you were nervous when you arrived at the restaurant. You were told to tell the hostess you were here for ‘R and D’, which you felt silly saying until the hostess gave you a bright smile, gesturing for you to follow as she weaved through the restaurant.

You passed so many famous faces as you almost had to jog to catch up with the hostess. You saw Fat Gum, Uwabami, Selkie. You’re pretty sure you even saw Red Riot and Dynamight! Wait… why is the hostess leading you straight to their table?

Hold on a second…

Oh shit.

The hostess happily gestured to the booth seat, across from the two heroes, placing a couple menus down on the table before quickly walking away. You couldn’t believe it. The number two hero and his husband, hired you, to be their companion for the evening. Red Riot had a bright grin on his face, showing off his famous pointy teeth, while Dynamight sat beside him with a scowl, arms crossed over his chest.

It was strange seeing them out of their hero costumes, Riot in a button down and maroon blazer, complementing his red hair which wasn’t spiked up in its usual style, but instead softly falling down his shoulders. Dynamight was wearing a white polo, short sleeves showing off his bulging biceps muscles, which you could see ripple with any minor movement. You scooted across the seat as you sat down, both sets of their red eyes watching you. Like an ant under a magnifying glass, you felt like you were about to burst into flames at any moment. Riot finally spoke, breaking the tension. “Punk_boi right?”

Ah yes, your username for the website. You had completely forgotten to tell them your real name, or at least whichever one of the pair you were corresponding with.

“It’s (y/n),” you responded meekly, trying to force a smile that made you look comfortable, but missing the mark.

“(y/n)… it suits you,” Riot smiled sweetly, placing his elbow on the table to rest his chin in his palm. You felt your cheeks grow warm, averting your gaze down to your lap where your fingers fiddled nervously under the table. You whispered out an appreciated thanks, shoulders tense. Dynamight kept his hard gaze on you, ruby eyes flicking over your nervous form, sitting shyly across from him. Noticing his staring, you took a deep breath, gaining the courage to talk.

“I’m so sorry, I guess I’m a little star struck, I didn’t think the number 2 hero would be interested in me,” you admitted with a nervous chuckle. Dynamight finally uncrossed his arms from his chest, instead digging his elbows into the table as he leaned closer to you.

“Yeah well, I am.” His regular volume just seemed to be slightly louder, causing a couple of glances from other tables. “What are you in this for?”

His question caught you off guard. You had heard that he was abrasive and straightforward but he still surprised you.

“I’m uh… pretty broke right now,” you admitted, eyes darting across the heroes’ faces to gauge any type of reaction, and when you didn’t see one, you decided to use this as an opportunity to turn up the charm.

“And because I want to thank the heroes that keep me safe,” you added in a sultry tone, reaching across the table to squeeze Dynamight’s hand. It was a lie though, you lived in an area with very limited patrols so there was more crime, but at least the rent was cheap because of it.

“There’s no need to thank us,” Riot said, laying his hand over yours, his large palm and fingers quickly engulfing your hand and almost covering Dynamight’s as well. You felt your blood run cold for a moment, before your face grew warm. You had assumed that you were hired just for Dynamight, maybe for some kind of cuckoldry thing but now it dawned on you. They both wanted you. “Please, order anything you like.”

The menu was the perfect barrier to cover your face as your situation started to dawn on you. Both of these men were nearly double your size, especially Red Riot, who was a mountain of a man. You weren’t sure if you could… take them both at once, let alone just Riot. Deciding to just get a pasta dish, you fiddled with your collar as you tried to steel your nerves. With your fingers threaded together, you placed them on the table to hopefully avoid anymore fidgeting to betray your calm facade.

“This is my first time doing this,” you admitted, feeling a slight weight lift from your shoulders. Dynamight’s lips turned upwards into a smirk as he huffed a short laugh.

“We could tell,” he teased. Riot chuckled as well, covering your hand with his again, his fingers soothingly stroking your wrist, fingertips just sneaking under your sleeve. Feeling the warmth in your face spread down your neck, you sheepishly turned your attention to your lap again.

“Don’t worry, it’s our first time too,” he assured.

“Wouldn’t you want someone with more experience?”

“Nah,” the blonde reached over, forefinger hooking under your chin with his thumb holding it in place as he tilted your head upward, forcing you to look at him. “We liked you too much.”

Thank god you didn’t have some kind of fire or heat quirk because you could’ve melted at that moment. Throughout the dinner, the two heroes would give you teasing touches and flirty comments, and as much as you wanted to reciprocate, they made you too flustered. By the time dinner had ended and they led you outside, the butterflies in your stomach feeling more and more like anxiety. You were about to have sex with not one stranger, but two, who were both Pro Heroes as well!

The cold night air cooled your hot face, but Dynamight’s hand on your lower back made the temperature of your cheeks a fierce competition. Riot stood in front of you to protect you from the cold breeze while requesting your phone. Hesitant, you gave him the device, watching him type away before handing it back to you.

He had created two new contacts, ‘Eijiro Kirishima’ and ‘Katsuki Bakugo’, and put them both in a group chat. Kirishima leaned down to your ear, feeling his lips brush against the metal jewellery that pierced the cartilage as he whispered, “Text us when you get home safe.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to respond, brain short-circuiting when the scent of his fancy cologne filled your nostrils. Bakugo reached into his pocket, moving in closer to your other side, lips brushing against your other ear as he handed you something discreetly. “For the cab.”

Glancing down at your palm you saw a hundred dollar bill. Gawking at it, your eyes practically bulged out of your skull. “I-I-I thought-“

The two men chuckled, Bakugo sounding a little more raspy. His hand rubbed up and down your back, pressing his surprisingly soft lips to your cheek in a kiss that almost made your knees buckle.

“Not yet, sweetheart, but maybe if you’d like to see us again,” Kirishima whispered before kissing your other cheek, turning away to flag down a taxi. As soon as one pulled up, the red head opened the door for you, and Bakugo’s hand never leaving your back until you climbed into the yellow car. With quick goodbyes, you watched them walk away hand in hand.

The cab ride was short, leaving you with plenty of change which you felt guilty for keeping. Once you got inside your apartment, your anxiety washed away and was replaced with exhaustion. The rollercoaster of emotions from dinner, and from work early that day left you extremely drained. Stripping from your clothes and crawling into bed, you remembered to text the two heroes you were home safe just before drifting off. --------

A/N - ahhhhhh first time posting! please let me know if there's any mistakes or ways i can improve! likes and reposts appreciated <3

[madamlaydebug]

Coca-Cola’s VitaminWater is being marketed as a healthy, hydrating drink. The company claims that the drinks prevent chronic diseases, reduce the risks of eye diseases, promotes healthy joints, and supports optimal immune function. However, nothing could be further from the truth.

This is what John Robbins, Esq., PhD., M.D. says in his Mat Hoffman Post article:

The product is basically sugar-water, to which about a penny’s worth of synthetic vitamins have been added. And the amount of sugar is not trivial. A bottle of vitaminwater contains 33 grams of sugar, making it more akin to a soft drink than to a healthy beverage.

The ingredients of “orange-orange”-flavored vitaminwater:

Reverse osmosis water, crystalline fructose, cane sugar, less than 0.5% of: citric acid, magnesiumlactate and calcium lactate and potassium phosphate (electrolyte sources), natural flavors, vitamin C (ascorbic acid), gum acacia, vitamin B3 (niacinamide), vitamin E (alpha-tocopheryl acetate), vitamin B5 (calcium pantothenate), glycerol ester of rosin, vitamin B6 (pyridoxine hydrochloride), vitamin B12, beta-carotene, modified food starch, sorbitol.

VitaminWater’s sugar levels are very very high. One 500ml bottle contains 27 grams of sugar, that’s about 8 teaspoons of sugar!

Crystalline Fructose

Crystalline fructose is produced by allowing the fructose to crystallize from a fructose-enriched corn syrup. So basically, it is made from corn syrup, and not only corn syrup, but “fructose enriched” corn syrup. Crystalline Fructose contains 99.5% minimum of fructose assay, which is a greater higher percentage of fructose than what makes up high fructose corn syrup. Crystalline fructose may be contaminated with arsenic, lead, chloride and heavy metals. This type of fructose leads to increased belly fat, insulin resistance, and metabolic syndrome. Large amount of fructose can create a fatty liver and cirrhosis as it can not be processed completely in the liver. The fructose interferes and alters the metabolic process in our cells, which causes oxidative damage.

[yandere-x-reader]

➼ Dividers done by @/cafekitsune

Color Code: Romantic, Platonic, Either

MHA / BNHA ♡

Mezo Shoji, Koji Koda, Rikido Sato, Tenya Ida, Hanta Sero, Shoto Todoroki, Momo Yaoyorozu, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Mashirao Ojiro, Yuga Aoyama, Denki Kaminari, Izuku Midoriya, Mina Ashido, Fumikage Tokoyami, Ochaco Uraraka, Kyoka Jiro, Toru Hagakure, Tsuyu Asui, Hitoshi Shinso, Mirio Togata, Nejire Hado, Tamaki Amajiki, Hizashi Yamada, Present Mic, Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Rumi Usagiyama/Mirko, Yu Takeyama/Mt. Lady, Toshinori Yagi/All Might, Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca, Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum, Emi Fukukado/Miss Joke, Nemuri Kayama/Midnight, Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King, Nezu, Eri Aizawa

FNAF:SB ♡

Sun, Moon, Roxy, Monty, Glamrock Freddy, Glamrock Chica, DJMM, Vannesa/Vanny, Gregory, Map Bot

Encanto

Luisa, Mirable, Isabella, Delores,Camilo, Alma, Pepa, Bruno, Julieta, Felix, Agustin, Antonio

Gravity Falls ♡

Bill Chipher, Stanley, Stanford, Mable, Dipper.

OCs ♡

To be added

Anonymous asks

I am perfectly fine with anyone using anonymous asks, I personally use them a lot. However if you use anonymous asks, please put a emoji(s) or a letter(s) as your signature. Just put it at the bottom of your ask and I'll add it to the list

Used Letters:

Used Emojios:

I will write

Different AU's: I can do all diffrent types! Pirate, mafia, hybrid, fantasy, royalty, mermaid, soulmates, mall workers, vampires, ghosts, ect. Or if you have your own AU and would like me to do somthing with it I can tolltally do that to.

Omegaverse: I know not everyone likes this trope but i'm a absaloute sucker for it. I can do Alpha, Beta, or Omega for charecters or Reader. I do write heats but not in a sexual way, i personally write them kinda like a human period but replace the blood with increased body tempetures.

Any Gender: I am personally genderfluid and AFAB so those are the two that I would have the most experience with. However if you want me to do somthing like a trans reader or AMAB reader than I can try my best. Don't be afraid to make it specific to you, everone is diffrent and I understand trying to look for something that fits you more than the stereotypes.

Crossovers: I don't see a lot of creators in any fandom doing crossovers a lot. I see like *Insert charecter* x reader with *insert other character* personality but not really crossovers. So feel free to request a crossover with a diffrent show.

Any skin color: I love having variety in my writing so I will do any skin colors. I can do basic skin colors, from pale peach to dark brown. I can also do exstream versions like skin that is nearly paper white from how pale it is or skin that us nearly space black from how dark it is. I can also do unnatural skin colors, like Mina!

Alterhuman Reader: Ok so I see absaloutly no alterhuman reader fanfics out there so i'm here to change that. I'm not personally a alterhuman but I do have a few freinds that are. If you want me to do a specific one instead of basic I can also do that. Like instead of a dragon kin I can do a dragon kin with space wing and starts eyes with claws that glow in the dark ect.

Body Marks: I personally have stretch marks, moles, freckles, and odd placed birthmarks so I can do any of these or others if you would like. If you are specifically extra self-conscious of your body marks than I can add extra levels of love to specific part if you would like :)

Feel free to requests anything as long as it's not in my will not write list!

I will not write

Abuse: I will not do the character inflicting pain on the reader or the reader inflicting pain on the charecter. I can do mentions of past abuse, such as a charecter or reader flinching at touch or loud noise.

Cheating: character doing it to reader or reader doing it to character is just a big no. I never understood cheating, if you don't love somone just break up with them. If you can't do it for safety reson than find a support system to protect you in dangerous situations.

Misscarage: I have lost three sibling to this and I still cry at night thinking of them, please don't ask me to do anything to do with this subject. If you do I will give you 1 warning and then I'm blocking you.

Abortion: I don't really have a side here but I don't like the though of writing it as it makes me uncomfortable.

Rape/SA: I don't feel comfortable doing this subject. I can not do mentions of it as I have not personally experienced it and don't want to miss somthing or do something wrong.

NSFW: I may be a yandere blog but I do not wish to do anything sexual on this blog, only romantic and platonic here.

Note

Don't worry about being cringe with me! As long as your not hurting anyone than why should I stop you from having fun? Fell free to be your authentic self and request somthing super specific if you want.

[ao3feed-kiribaku]

Caught in the Crossfire

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3mVvAqs by mellow_fellow What if Bakugou Katsuki never became a pro hero? What if he never went to UA, but instead became a vigilante? What drove him away from the pro hero life? And why does Kirishima Eijirou care so much? Title from Crossfire by Stephen Words: 3850, Chapters: 1/4, Language: English Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Iida Tenya, Toyomitsu Taishirou | Fat Gum Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou Additional Tags: Vigilante Bakugou Katsuki, Pro Hero Kirishima Eijirou, Pro Hero Iida Tenya, Canon-Typical Violence, hopefully this isnt ooc, No beta we die like Bakugou, not in this fic though, I'll add tags as I think of them read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3mVvAqs

[gigglemugger]

The Fish and the Ten of Cups.

Fandom: Little Shop of Horrors (1986).

Pairing: Seymour Krellborn/Audrey Fulquard.

Synopsis:

In which Audrey Fulquard hears about Seymour a lot throughout her life, before even seeing his face for the first time

(Aka M.D. watched the Theatrical version of Little Shop of Horrors '86, cried copiously, and had another fanfic idea beamed into her brain).

I'm posting it here because a nice commenter renewed my interest in this fic and I decided to rewrite some parts for pacing, and better sentences. No content was heavily altered, though. Still not beta read :)

Word Count: 8,867.

AO3 Tags: Falling In Love, Tarot, sorry - Freeform, Poor Life Choices, Slice of Life, idk how to tag this it's kind of like a 5 + 1 things but it's also not?, I wrote this in 3 days, I'm Bad At Tagging, Fluff and Angst, mostly fluff, Character Study, her life is kinda tragic until she gets to the flower shop tbh, but that's relatable right.

Language: English.

CW: Mentions of abuse, because it's Audrey. Men are gross in this :(

AO3 link.

The first time Audrey heard about him, it was a Monday night. The streets outside were vicious, chaotic, noisy. She was in bed, looking at the ceiling and intently listening to every police siren, every alteration of voice, and every dog bark that Skid Row had to offer. She was alone. She was thirteen years old.

Tomorrow she had school, though she didn’t know how long she’d be going to that anymore. It seemed like a waste of time considering how bad her grades were. Every time she tried to put her mind to the books something distracted her, either a boy who pulled her hair, or a girl sticking gum to her pages before calling her a slut. 

She needed to think of something else...

Tentatively, Audrey got up. She knew she couldn't sleep, not now, so she traced the steps necessary to cross the room, making sure to keep her steps light enough. She didn't want to alert her mother. She hoped she was fast asleep and peaceful.

Audrey slowly opened the door. She stepped into the hallway thinking of what she could find in the fridge to turn into a meal, but something else stopped her on the way, something other than street sounds: Voices, coming from the kitchen. Two women, one clearly her mother–bearer of a mousy voice, she spoke in a lower tone surely not to wake her–and another, of unknown origin–a hoarse sound, raspy. They talked amongst themselves, in confidence.

The latter woman was definitely a smoker and Audrey twisted her nose. She didn’t like smokers--she kissed only a couple of them, but it was enough for her to know that the taste lingers in your mouth for far longer than it should. 

With her heart now beating fast and hands clammy, Audrey decided to approach the edge of the hallway slowly, as to not be heard. She leaned on the corner to look into the kitchen and saw her mother was sitting at the round, chipped kitchen table they had. The woman with her, the stranger, had what Audrey considered to be pretty, bright, flaming red hair. She figured it was dyed, which only made her more fascinated–she herself wanted to dye her bland, brown hair into a bleach blonde, like the women she saw on the magazines at the newstands when she was on the way home from school. They all looked so glamorous and she wondered if she would look the same when she grew up.

Fat chance, said the girls from her class.

The woman sitting at the table coughed every few seconds, pulling Audrey back into the scene, and she watched as she put the cigarette on her lips before dragging, longly. Her pink lipstick stained it all over.

"Is he going to come back home?" Audrey's mother asked. Her back was towards her, but a daughter recognized that tone of voice, could see in her head the sort of expression she had in her eyes. Her mother had blue eyes, which always looked tired and wet. Her father used to say that they looked like a dog's, but sometimes added that they were pretty once upon a time, when he was feeling merciful. That was one of the nicer things he had to say about her.

“We’ve been over this,” the hoarse voiced woman with pretty hair answered, shuffling a deck of cards. “He’s not gonna be back.”

Her mother was silent and Audrey held her breath, looking at the floor. So that was that. The fact her father was taking longer and longer to visit wasn’t simply a quirk of moving towns and “trying to make it big” as he put it with what neighbors called a used car salesman smile (but never to his face). No. It was something else entirely. He had left them permanently.

“Will he at least send some money?” 

The cards were shuffled again. Audrey watched as the expert fingers moved to put one over the other, over the other. It was so enthralling that when a bunch of cards fell on the table, she was nearly startled. She put her hand on her mouth, as to not to make any accidental yelps or gasps.

Luckily, the women seemed to be likewise entranced and nothing was done to sever their focus.

The reading resumed.

“You have the three and the four of swords. This is a period of stagnation. You are heartbroken, clearly." Both nodded their heads, forlorn. No shit. "The four is showing a time of rest.” She flipped another one of the cards “Five of pentacles. Sorry. No money being sent here.”

Audrey’s mother’s head bowed down. The pretty haired woman dragged a cigarette. The lipstick stained and the fire caught. Audrey took another deep breath on the beat before her mother said anything else.

“Alright,” her mousy voice arose. “No money then. I’ll just have to make do, of course.” 

“I’m sorry, doll,” the woman said, looking at her with sympathy, but soon turning to what Audrey thought would be admire the pretty flowers her mother kept at the vase nearby. Anything to not observe an uncomfortable situation. Without warning, though, her eyes fell on Audrey instead. “What about you, girl?” She retreated in a panic, putting her back against the wall. The woman continued: “You want a reading?”

“Audrey?” her mother’s voice arose, a little louder. “Audrey?” she called again in the silence. Audrey closed her eyes. "Are you there, honey?"

“Yes, mama.” She said and came out, after a slight pause. It was better this way, she thought. Trying to run back to her room was not the right choice. Besides, she wanted a reading, or whatever the woman called what she was doing. It was too good to run now.

“Have you been there long? Come here,” her mother said. She looked at the two, who in turn stared at her, her mother with her mouth slightly ajar and the woman as unbothered as ever. Upon closer inspection, Audrey could see she had wrinkles all over her face, and exaggerated eye make up. It suited her and she thought she looked pretty, even though she had a vague notion no one else would.

“You shouldn’t be awake at this time,” her mother said. “You have school tomorrow!”

“I know, mama.” What else could she say? Her mother sighed, but her expression turned from a frown to a softer one.

“Sit down, darling,” she said, pointing at the chair, the only other free one. “This is Sandra.”

“Hi, I’m Audrey,” she said to the woman, positioning herself in front of her. She, in return, smiled.

“I know who you are, honey. I held you in my arms when you were just a baby. You don’t remember Auntie Sandra, do you?” Audrey waved her head. Sandra shrugged. “Eh, we can’t all be winners. It was a long time ago.” She picked up the cards again. Audrey could see them up close now, and realized they were ripped at the edges, faded and yellowed. Auntie Sandra must have had that deck of cards for a long time. “You have grown a lot since the last time I saw you. You’re becoming quite the pretty woman too!” She punctuated the enthusiastic statement with a cough, and even through the spit and heaving, all Audrey could do was smile, even if just a little. All they called her at school was beanpole, freak, airhead, slut. She liked to be called pretty once in a while. 

“What do you want to know?” Audrey looked at her mother, who smiled at her encouragingly. Her eyes were indeed wet, even wetter than usual, as she had predicted from the corner.

Audrey turned her attention to auntie Sandra instead.

“I don’t know, I… I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, it’s easy. You” Auntie Sandra pointed a finger at her, “ask a question and I," she pointed at herself, “predict the future.” Audrey thought about the future. She did that quite a lot already, from her bed, imagining a time in which she’d be far away from where she lived, maybe in another country, another planet... Anywhere.

“I don’t know what to ask…” she said, her blue eyes huge, the possibilities endless. “There is just so much I want to know!”

Auntie Sandra dragged on her cigarette. She blew the smoke away from Audrey’s face, before continuing, which she thought was sweet. “You believe in guardian angels, honey?”

Audrey pondered that for a bit, but quickly nodded. Her mother told her they were real, at least, so she believed in them. “Alright then, lemme give you a get out of jail free card: I’ll ask what your guardian angels have to tell you, what they think you should know about your future. Is that alright?” Audrey smiled.

“Alright.” 

Auntie Sandra smiled back and her teeth were as yellowed as the cards. The little one now supported her head on her hands and looked down to see how the deck was shuffled and what cards came out first. She watched Sandra’s lips forming her question over and over again, ceaselessly as if in prayer, until four different cards went flying out one by one. The reader organized all of them, looking for a few long seconds before uttering the word:

“Interesting.” 

“What is it?” Audrey’s mother, decidedly more anxious than her, asked, holding her daughter's hand. Her blue beaded eyes had followed her old friend’s every movement. Auntie Sandra coughed on her sleeve.

“You got quite a few things here, Audrey,” she said at last.

“Good things?” her mother asked. Auntie Sandra shrugged; her movement was sluggish.

“Some of it, yes,” she said finally, and Audrey looked down. All she saw were drawings. "Others though,” Auntie Sandra pointed at a card with a tower in it and showed it to both of them, taking another drag before continuing. “Not so much.”

"You've always been so dramatic..." Audrey's mother began, with an eye roll, but her daughter cut her off with a question.

“What does that mean?” she asked, looking at the fire, both from the card and from the cigarette.

“Something is going to happen in your future, child that is not going to be all good. Now, I have no idea what it’s gonna be, they’re not telling me. You shouldn’t worry too much about it, though, you’re gonna come out on top, somehow.” She picked another card up and paired it with the previous one, laying both together. The card showed two people beside trees that were either on fire or full of leaves, with an angel watching over them. “The good news, which is always the best, is that love seems to be a big theme here.”

“Love?” Audrey asked, her voice barely leaving her throat.

“Yes, love. This card right here,” Auntie Sandra began, putting her cigarette in her mouth and tapping the paper with a long, red nail, "This means a choice in love. It can also indicate soulmates, though.” She dragged the cigarette, put it down, and picked another card up, this time with a family and ten glasses over a rainbow. “To me, it’s the latter. This card indicates a soulmate for you, dearie. You are going to be fine.”

“Look at how beautiful that meadow is, Audrey!" Her mother said, hugging her shoulders. "So full of life!”

Auntie Sandra handed the card to her, for her to be able to see it closely. Sure, it was a tad yellowed and sticky, with black spots, here and there, but she could still see the couple together, holding hands. There were kids too. She wondered about those. Kids. Two. A boy and a girl, a small house and a meadow...

“It’s not gonna be easy for you two,” Auntie Sandra said and showed her another one of the cards. Audrey put the previous one down. “This one, nine of wands, shows you two might have to be brave. Are you brave, Audrey?” She was taken aback.

“Well, I… I don’t know…”

“Well… Things will happen the way they need to,” Auntie Sandra affirmed, shuffling once more. Audrey looked at the card, she put down.

"So this is where I’ll end up regardless?” she asked, her soft voice nearly trembling in excitement. 

“It’s likely. All of this is only a possibility.” Audrey’s mother rolled her eyes.

“Sandra needs to say that, to be professional, but she is always right. I haven’t seen her being wrong once.”

“Yes doll, you have,” Auntie Sandra said, not looking at her and instead rearranging the cards. Audrey’s mother stopped smiling, looking down at the table. She had a wistful look.

“Well… We were both wrong.”

“Surely.”

“What is he like?” Audrey’s voice, still small, found herself asking. The women exchanged a look.

“Well, I usually don’t go around giving away two free questions to new customers,” the reader said, dragging her cigarette once more and finally putting it out. She turned around and took a beaten up, crumpled pack off her purse, pulling another cigarette out.

“Oh, Sandy, c’mon. It’s her first reading,” her mother plead. Audrey looked up at the woman in front of her and saw her brown eyes scrutinizing her. When she blew the smoke from her lips, she looked away, feeling a tad embarrassed. 

At the end, Auntie Sandra shrugged.

“I’ll pull three more cards,” she pointed the cigarette at Audrey. “That is all you get, though.”

“How do we say?” Her mother asked, looking at her smiling daughter.

“Thank you,” Audrey said. She looked on as Auntie Sandra shuffled. The movements were the same: She said Audrey’s question out loud once, and then continued on silently, with only her lips. At the end, she pulled out three more cards.

“Hm. Interesting fella.”

“Oh, really?” Audrey’s mom asked, moving forwards, “Good or bad?”

“Seems to be good. He’s really into something specific. A hobby of sorts. He hasn’t had an easy life, this one. Poor boy.”

“Oh, poor?” Audrey’s mother asked, with a tinge of disappointment. Audrey twisted her nose at that. She was also poor, wasn’t she? Sure, she dreamed of a big house, of a stable place, of being able to afford nice things like clothes and internal heating. But she never thought she’d get those anyhow, so it was alright if he was like her. At least they’d have that in common. 

Auntie Sandra’s next words took her out of her trance.

“Piss poor, excuse my language kid,” she pointed her cigarette at Audrey again, briefly, still looking at the cards.

“It’s alright,” Audrey said, approaching the table once more, looking down. “Is he nice ?”

“He’s nice, but he has made mistakes, plural,” she picks up the three cards at once to showcase, aligning them perfectly between two fingers. One of them is a man with a cup and a fish jumping out, the other is a man hanging from a tree. The last, and scariest of them all was The Devil, with two naked people chained to it. “You see here? These are the mistakes. This,” she tapped the other card, with the man holding a cup, “Is him. He’s sweeter than molasses, this one, just…” she tapped the card with the man hanging from a tree, “Very helpless, or seemingly helpless. At least he feels that way."

“Do you know what he looks like?” Audrey asked, looking at the card with the man, the cup and the fish. She didn’t want to focus on the hang ups and mistakes. We all make them, don’t we? She had made hers, she thought, even if she was so young, and she was likely to make more...

Auntie Sandra shrugged again.

“Hardly. Best I can tell you is that you shouldn’t dream of Cary Grant. Look for dark hair, maybe brown or black. That’s all I see.”

“Thank you, Sandra,” her mother said.

“Yes, thank you,” Audrey said too.

And that was that.

---------

The second time Audrey heard about him, four years had passed since the conversation with Auntie Sandra. She had no idea where time had gone, only that it had, and fast. It was probably flying on right now, passing her by, and she’d have no clue, just like before.

She had other things to concern herself with.

Presently, she was completely wet–her pretty, new dress was in shambles, and her newly bleached blonde hair felt like a steel sponge at the touch. The rain was pouring incessantly over the streets, and then some, hitting the windshields of the nearby parked cars. Anyone watching would think of her as a pitiful vision there, dejected, on the sidewalk. It was her date that was missing. He never showed up. 

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. They had been together for approximately two months at that point, and she could count the dates in which he showed up in one hand (two). Her mother advised her to not go out with him again and outright disliked the boy, but how could she not? He could be the man Auntie Sandra was talking about in the cards–after all, he had brown hair, and made more mistakes than anyone Audrey had met in her life! 

…Well, maybe that’s not all auntie Sandra said. He was supposed to be sweet after all, and this boy wasn’t sweet. Sure, he was, at first: They had Algebra together and he helped her with it, because she was lousy at math. He also defended her from all the people calling her a slut–mainly other boys that had professed undying love for her months prior, before they…

He had left her stranded in the pouring rain. Again. He’d no doubt call her in the morning, tell her she was beautiful and ask her to skip school to go on a ride with him, where they could make-out in the backseat. And she’d go, because she loved him and he could be the man from the reading. Right?

Audrey, looking around herself, knew she needed to make a decision. Skid Row was scary at night, but there was no ride for her, and no other way to get there. It was hopeless to try to get a taxi, even if she had the money. So, with limited options, she decided to walk home. Being in motion was better than being static.

Hugging herself to shield from the cold, Audrey promised she’d never leave the house without a jacket or an umbrella at least if there was no guarantee of a ride. A good lesson can be taken from everything. 

She looked down at her feet and counted the steps to ignore the voices coming towards her from the dark corners:

“Hey, girlie, all alone?”

“Hey baby, look at me!”

“Oh, baby, don’t do me like that!”

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing--"

“Are you alright girl?” She finally looked up, startled. A woman was looking back at her with a puzzled look from the steps of her house. She was big and her hair was wrapped in a scarf. Her brown eyes bore into her, wild and shocked at the fact she was alone at that time.

“Yes ma’am, thank you," Audrey said, faking a chipper tone. The woman wasn’t convinced.

“Aren’t you too young to be walking around on your own in this pouring rain?” She didn’t mention the fact she was herself in the pouring rain. Audrey found that odd, but thought it was better not to bring it up. 

“Yes, ma’am I am, but I’m getting right home!” The woman looked like she was going to say something else, but instead decided to stare fixedly beyond Audrey’s body. When she looked back, she saw what it was: A few men were approaching her and no doubt gave up and stepped away, when they saw she had company, back into the alley from whence they came.

"Go," the woman said. Audrey promptly resumed walking, as fast as her white heels allowed her, going over each cobblestone and trying not to trip. She was getting more dextrous at it, which was also something to be proud of. The plan now was to get to point B as fast as possible–and in that way avoid any more men.

Still, as if seized by something, Audrey stopped in her tracks. There, bathing her and half the Skid Row sidewalk, beyond the now faltering rain and night, was a bright yellow light. The building needed no identification. It was old, probably a century or so, and its decrepit brown, chipped walls were unmistakable:

She was at the steps of what people called the Skid Row home for children. It probably had a proper orphanage name once, but why beat around the bush? It was a home for those even more destitute than the destitute. Usually when Audrey went by it---or rather sprinted by it, guiltily thanking God for having a mother who loved her---the doors were closed. This time though they were open a sliver. Inside, the silhouette of a woman could be seen, talking to one of the kids. The conversation seemed to be going on for a while now, about a specific child, and despite herself, Audrey leaned in to listen.

“...Think he’s gonna be happy where he was sent to, Mrs. Jones?” Mrs. Jones was shuffling some papers and walking briskly.

“Our job is not to make sure you children are happy," she began, austere. "But to give you homes. He has a home now.” The child, no less than nine by the voice of it, pondered this.

“Yes, but that mister didn’t give me the best impression. He didn’t seem very fatherly, ma’am.”

“That mister only wanted someone to help him with the shop, so he got someone to help him with the shop. That is all. Have you taken your meds?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then go to bed, it’s late.”

When the woman got up and closed the doors, Audrey was nearly shaken awake with a jolt. She remembered where she was, looked around herself and sprinted past.

Poor child! A child who wasn’t supposed to be happy, just useful. What a miserable existence!

She didn't stop walking an inch until she was safe and sound inside of her own home.

----

When Audrey heard about him again, it was another four years later. She was working at a bar, which was bustling and loud, feeling very uncomfortable in the clothes her boss insisted the waitresses wore. It was a skimpy, sequined outfit, which she felt showed too much cleavage, but it got her tips and she needed tips: Her last boyfriend broke up with her and threw her out of his apartment where they had been living for the two years. He had essentially left her penniless again. 

It was for the best, she kept telling herself. He was not a very good man and her mother was sick. She couldn’t work as much anymore, so she moved in with her to help. And working as a waitress was good! Her hair was better than ever now that the other girls helped her know all the good products for hydrating bleached hair, and it was either this or stripping. Audrey didn’t think she was there yet, though her co-worker Sally was always trying to sell her on it.

“I mean, you just go up there and take your clothes off,” she'd say as they both looked at the stage, where a girl was dancing. She slowly unhooked her bra to whistles. “It’s totally fine. I mean, eventually a few jerks come around, but we have The Muscle for that, he takes care of ‘em.” The Muscle was a big, but sweet guy who always treated Audrey nicely. He lived with his boyfriend around the corner and Audrey never judged him for that, but they all kept it a secret from the boss, who might not like it very much

“Oh, I don’t think it’s for me," She'd eventually say. "Thank you, though, Sally.” Sally would shrug, big, wavy and luscious red hair falling over her, so similar to...

“I’m just saying that’s where the big bucks are, honey. The good money."

“Well, I just don’t feel very comfortable with that, that’s all.” She'd shrug again.

“Suit yourself, hon.” Sally would then go downstairs, to get ready. Audrey would watch her every time and then nod to herself, reassuringly. She was going to suit herself alright. She wasn’t gonna strip. Sure, she didn’t think it was a bad thing, considering everything, but she wasn’t going to do it. She didn’t need her mother to find out something like that about her and march to an early grave. Not graduating high school, skipping classes to be with boys, chain smoking behind the bleachers and coughing all over herself, having that many boyfriends… All of that was enough, she thought.

Working at bars at nights had to be the cherry on top of the cake. This itchy dress would have to be the end of it.

“Hey, honey,” a man said, approaching her with a drink in hand, snapping her out of her thoughts. She smiled. “Do you work here?”

“Oh yes, I do." She looked at him, analyzing. He was balding, but his hair was brown… Well, perhaps it was more blonde. He looked old---Auntie Sandra never mentioned anything about old, did she? She mentioned mistakes, and being sweet. Now, being at a bar like that at this time of night was definitely a mistake. Was he sweet?

“Nice cleavage.” No. He was not sweet. Audrey swallowed the urge to hit him over the head with the tray she was holding, and kept smiling, frozen in place.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

“Sure, give me a double vodka,” Audrey nodded and went to the barman immediately, squeezing herself in the crowded place, sinking her stomach in to go by some men who were definitely getting more out of this than she was.

"Danny?"

“Hey, Audrey, what’s up?”

“A double shot of vodka, please,” she said, looking at the man. He smiled at her, as usual.

“Coming right up!” Audrey watched as he prepared the drink and tried not to pay attention to the people around her. She would sometimes stop to watch the numbers or hear the conversations, but as it was it was just too much. She wanted out, but her shift had barely just started.

Taking the double vodka, she left.

That routine continued through the night. A man came up to her, was perhaps nice, perhaps not, ordered a drink, she gave it to him, rinse and repeat. She was glad to be used to wearing heels, because that was not a life for someone who wasn’t. At the end of the day, truthfully, the thing she liked the most about working at the bar (and there were always advantages everywhere) was when it was empty, or nearly so. The barman wiped the counter up and the other waitresses huddled together on the corner, exchanging things that happened to them that night, half acquired gossip they overheard, and cigarettes, counting tips. Audrey thought there was a nice, peaceful energy that surrounded the place then. The stage was empty and the strippers were all downstairs, powdering. They’d be up for a drink and she could talk to them about their new routines, their hair and make-up, which was always impeccable, as it should be, throughout their number. The girls were always nice, even if perhaps a bit beaten by life. But then again, so was she, right?

“Another one, sir?”

“Yes, sure, why not?” Audrey turned to the bar. There was still a man there, drinking. He was old, but not balding, so it wasn’t the same man from the beginning of the night. For some reason, Audrey decided to stop and sit by him, which she never did.

“Hello." When he looked at her, he flushed and nearly dropped his drink. “Oh, I'm so sorry!"

“Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, with a smile, before examining her further. He stopped at her face and squinted. “Say, I know you. You stop by the flower shop sometimes.”

“The flower shop? The one next to the corner store?”

“Yes, that one. I own it.” Audrey perked up.

“You’re mr. Mushnik?”

“The one and only!” Audrey was baffled. This was akin to meeting a celebrity.

Many times she had stopped to look at the flowers, however briefly, at mr. Mushnik’s window. She had noticed that, as time went by, the flower populace there became scarcer and scarcer, but she decided not to bring it up, for fear it was rude. Besides, they always had peonies and lilies, and Audrey adored those.

“Oh, I simply love your shop!” She said, turning her body to face the man now, all inhibitions forgotten. “It’s so lovely! When I was little, my mother used to buy flowers, and I’d play at making arrangements. Of course, that was before my dad left us…” Mr. Mushnik’s expression went darker. “Oh. I’m sorry, I...”

“Don’t worry about it, uh...” he trailed off, trying to gauge her name out.

“Oh, I’m Audrey.”

“Audrey! Say, what are you working in this joint for? No offense,” he added to the barman, who merely rolled his eyes. 

"Whatever, man..."

“It’s good money!" Audrey said, but then admitted, "well… Better than nothing.”

“And you’re not…” Mr. Mushnik trailed off once more, looking at the strippers who came up the stairs talking amongst each other. She vehemently waved her head.

“Oh no, Mr. Mushnik. Not me. Though…” Audrey glanced at the stage and then down at her clothes. She turned her body away, towards the bar, changing the subject, “I’ve never seen you here, before.”

“Oh, special occasion, or should have been,” he rolled his eyes, “My employee, Seymour, turned twenty-one these days, and I brought him here for his first drink. This was the only bar open,” he explained himself when Audrey’s expression became puzzled. He looked at his own glass. “Lousy idea. He threw up outside in the alley, and I had to take him home. So I came back here for a drink of my own.”

“Oh, that sounds dreadful!”

“It was! Kid can’t hold his liquor much like he can’t hold anything else!”

“Oh no, Mr. Mushnik,” Audrey retracted herself, her eyes wide with worry. “I meant Seymour. I hope he’s alright!”

“Oh, Seymour? He’s gonna be fine,” Mr. Mushnik said, waving his hand, before taking a sip of his drink. Audrey saw it was probably whiskey and wondered what Seymour had drunk. If he had never done it before and this man gave him straight whiskey, she thought it was no wonder that he had thrown up all of it in the alley. “You shouldn’t be working here, y’know?”

“What do you mean?” Audrey said, blinking in surprise.

“You’re a nice girl, I can tell,” she looked down, with a small smile.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that, mr. Mushnik…”

“Yes, you are. Say,” Mr. Mushnik downed the last of his drink and put the glass back on the counter, seamlessly pulling a few bucks from his wallet “If you need a job, come work for me. I’ll remember you, I bet.”

“Work? At the flower shop?” Audrey had thought of that, of course, many times. She never once thought it could be so, though, “What would I do?”

“You said you like to do arrangements, right?” She nodded. “Perfect! Seymour has no talent for arrangements, no taste. I’ve tried to teach him, but I’m just as hopeless. I see you got good taste,” she looked down once more and shrunk into herself. He didn't seem to notice it. “You can come work for me anytime, ditch this joint for good!”

“Well, I’ll think about it. Thank you Mr. Mushnik,” he smiled and began to leave, being halfway to the door when she yelled: “Oh, and tell poor Seymour to take care of himself!”

“Oh, Seymour!” Another eye roll “He’s gonna be the death of me one of these days!” 

And that was that.

----

When Audrey heard about him again, it was on the day of her mother’s funeral service, nearly two years later. It was a peaceful event, as she thought it should be. She was there, by the coffin, looking at her mother’s face and crying.

Few people showed up and her own father was nowhere to be found, as usual. He sent some money instead, when Audrey called him to let him know what had transpired. At least that was good. She could afford to pay for everything and then some, as he had sent some extra for her never to contact him again, so she could live and pay the bills without killing herself working for at least two more months.

Audrey caressed her mother's hair. She looked happier in death than ever. She wondered if she was going to look like that too when she passed, but then thought that maybe that wasn’t a nice train of thought to pursue. 

Drying her tears, Audrey made mention to leave, when a hoarse voice sounded behind her.

“Hey, kiddo." When she turned around, she froze in surprise. There, facing her with a cigarette in hand, was auntie Sandra and her pretty, bright, red hair. Audrey would have squealed, no doubt, if the situation was not so hopeless.

“Hello, auntie Sandra. I haven’t seen you in a while, are you well?”

“How could I be well in a time like this, kid?” She asked, expelling smoke from what seemed to be every pore of her body, “Sorry ‘bout your mom.” Audrey looked down, joining her hands.

“Thank you, auntie Sandra.” It felt odd to her to call the woman that, but she didn’t know her last name. In fact, she didn’t know anything about her. In all of the years that followed the woman’s consultation---nearly ten!---Audrey wanted to contact her, to ask more about the future. She even saved up some money for it, but her mother told her it wasn’t nice to meddle with these things too much and wouldn’t tell her where the woman lived. Other people in Skid Row offered a similar service, but Audrey never knew how to approach them, and it felt almost like a betrayal of sorts---Auntie Sandra existed, so why would she go after anyone else?

It was nearly a miracle she had found her way to her again. In fact, she was wondering how she even heard of her mother’s passing, considering she didn't call, when Auntie Sandra began talking again.

“I hope you’re doing well, kiddo,” she said, tossing her cigarette on the floor and stepping on it unceremoniously, before getting another one. She coughed. “Your mother was a good woman, one of the best I’ve ever met, and I have met many of them," she paused, scrutinizing Audrey the same way she had all those years ago. "You look like her.” She ended her statement lighting her cigarette.

“I do?” Audrey asked, looking at herself on a nearby window. She couldn't see the resemblance.

“It’s the eyes, kid, they're nice. And the voice too, I suppose. You look better with this hair, though,” Audrey lifted her hands to her head and smiled genuinely for the first time that day. It was short lived, a daughter shouldn’t be smiling at a mother’s funeral, but it was meaningful.

“Thank you, Auntie Sandra.”

After the service and the burial, Auntie Sandra insisted on giving Audrey a reading for free, for old time’s sake.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should accept it,” she said at first, feeling unwell about the ordeal. “I ought to pay you something.” Auntie Sandra waved her hand.

“Nonsense, your mother never paid me. I read to her since we were in high school, you know?”

“You knew my mother in high school?” Audrey asked, shocked.

“Yeah, before I quit for good.”

“Oh…” Audrey said, trailing off. Auntie Sandra looked at her intently.

"Say, don’t you wanna know more about that guy from all those years ago?”

“Guy?”

“Yeah, the one I told you about. I’m assuming you didn’t find him, did you?”

Audrey hadn’t. In fact, this was the first time in what seemed to her a long time, at least a year, that she even thought about him. With her mother’s illness aggravating and the medical bills – which were absurd – she was too busy to think about love. She figured Auntie Sandra’s warning was correct: It was just a possibility, not a fixed future. Even now she didn’t think about asking her whether or not she’d be married. All she wanted to know was this: “Will I ever leave Skid Row?”

Instead of saying any of that out loud, though, she contented herself with a more direct response:

“No, I haven’t.” Auntie Sandra tapped her cigarette with a long nail.

“Figures. I’ll meet you at your place, alright?” And without expecting an answer, she took off.

Audrey watched as she left – the tight dress, which some would say it’s inappropriate for her age, and the high heels clicking – wondering where the woman lived. How did she know she still lived at her mother’s place? It was for sale now, her landlord wanted to live in Europe, or something, so Audrey had her days numbered. Her mother said it was for the best, though. Rent was too expensive there, even for Skid Row.

With a small sigh, she decided to go and finish putting her mother’s things in boxes. Despite herself, she cried all the way there.

It was nine pm when Auntie Sandra showed up. She wondered if it had been a similar time back then, during her first consultation, and thought it was plausible. After all, she was supposed to be in bed by eight thirty. Little Audrey had always thought it was late into the night, maybe two am, but now, as an adult who had been out at such a late hour, she saw how that could easily be a fabrication. She smiled at the innocence of her youth and wondered where time had gone again.

“Kid? You gonna invite me in?”

“Oh, sure. I'm sorry Auntie Sandra,” Audrey stepped aside, cursing herself, and closed the door once the woman was in. 

“Place’s cleaner than ever, good for you,” Audrey smiled at the compliment and began lifting her hand to offer the woman a chair. That wasn’t necessary. Auntie Sandra was already sitting, with the cards in hand. “Sit down,” she said as if she owned the place, and wordless, Audrey did just that.

She lightly played with a fake pearl necklace she was wearing, wide eyed.

“Are you going to see into my future?”

“Yeah, kid. Is there anything specific you want to know?” Audrey opened her mouth and closed it again. Hmm...

“Well…” She began, at last. “I wanted to know about leaving Skid Row. For good.”

“I see,” Auntie Sandra said, shuffling the cards. “I’ll ask them about you leaving Skid Row then.” Before Audrey could ask who they were, if she meant her guardian angels again, the woman fell into her ceaseless prayer stage. When the cards fell on the table, she looked at the drawings and felt thirteen again. The deck was new – different, better. It was laminated and it didn’t have as many creases as before, so she could see it crystal clear, which made her happy. She wondered what thirteen-year-old Audrey would think of her if she could see her now, before Auntie Sandra took her back into the real world.

“Your fella is here again,” she said, tapping her cigarette with her finger over a leftover glass of water. “Front and center.”

“He is?” Audrey didn’t want to sound too excited, but found herself looking at the card she pointed to immediately: It was the same one from ten years ago, she knew, the man with the cup and the fish flying out. “Oh...”

“Anything the matter?” Audrey waved her head, putting her back against the chair.

“I haven’t been thinking about men much lately. Dating in Skid Row is a no go! I should have seen that from my parents’ relationship. Then again, I was never very bright.” Auntie Sandra waved her hand.

“You’re bright, kid, don’t say you ain’t. You’re seeing men for what they are after all! Lousy pigs…” She tempered with the cards again, distractedly, before taking another drag of the cigarette. “This one’s ok, though. He seems to be..." she squinted at the cards. "Sudden? Yeah, sudden.”

“Sudden?” Audrey repeated, confused.

“Yeah, sudden. You’re not gonna see him coming, and then BAM!” Auntie Sandra hit the table for effect, making Audrey jump back with a startled noise. “He’s right there with ya! You’re a fighter though,” she continued, eyeing the cards closely while Audrey removed a hand from her chest.

“I am?” she asked, recuperating from the scare. She looked down at the card that had a woman and eight swords, beside another with a woman and a lion. Audrey never thought of herself particularly as a fighter. If anything, she was the opposite: Weak willed and willing to follow. She looked down at her lap.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna see it until it’s right there, don’t even try,” Auntie Sandra continued, despite her thoughts. “You don’t think you deserve this fella.”

“Oh, so he’s not any of the ones I dated?”

“Fat chance, kid.” Audrey knew as much, but she needed to try. She didn’t believe someone as nice as that man sounded was going to suddenly appear in her life. It was too good to be true, so, retracing footsteps could be her better chance at love. “Don’t go chasing exes either, they’re off of your life for a reason.” Audrey’s head jolted up in time to catch Auntie Sandra’s cigarette hand lowering down onto the cup.

“You can read minds?” Her voice was even smaller than usual and Auntie Sandra smiled largely at that, before dismissing it with a hand wave.

“Nah kid, but I can read sweet girls like you, and they all go back to their exes, trust me.” She looked back down at the cards, while Audrey resigned herself to wait. “I get why they wanted to talk about this fella of yours.” She lifted one of the cards up to show her. “Remember this?” 

Audrey looked closer.

“Sure!” She said, fighting back the sudden urge to cry, while grabbing the card in hands “It’s the card my mother…” She paused to sniff, hoping it didn’t sound as loud in reality as it did in her ears, “That my mother said was so full of life.” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty green I guess,” she said, staring at Audrey intently “Your mother always wanted a garden, all that stuff.”

“I know…” Audrey murmured to herself, running her fingers through the surface of the card delicately, as if that movement alone could ruin the illusion.

“Well, it seems like you and your fella get that at the end.” For the second time in the night, Audrey’s head jolted up.

“We do?”

“Yep. The garden, the kids, the house. Now, it’s a small house, right there,” Audrey looked down when she pointed. “But it’s a house. If you wanted undying fortunes, you should have gotten the ten of pentacles. As it is, though, the ten of cups is good. Out of Skid Row.” 

Audrey put the card down.

“Now, here it is again, these two,” Audrey looked at the other cards indicated: A tower crumbling and a Devil with two people “I remember your reading well. I’ve done several since, but you were my youngest client,” she smiled at her, “These two came up as well, do you remember?”

Audrey waved her head. She only remembered the fish and the ten of cups. It was the nicer part of the reading, she figured. She focused on that.

“Well, you’re older now, so I can go into depth. There’s crumbling alright. Necessary. I don’t know if it's emotional or physical, but it’ll happen. Here,” she pointed at another card, “Nine of pentacles. There’s another woman here.”

“Another woman?” 

“Yeah, kiddo. Another woman. She’s greedy, wants everything for herself and nothing for the both of you. She’s your obstacle out of here, it seems.���

“Oh, well, if there’s another woman, then maybe it’s best not to get involved...” Audrey knew better than to steal another woman’s man. She had seen the fights at the bars and even her own neighborhood. Many times she had woken up startled with a woman yelling and the loud noise of a car window being smashed.

“I don’t think it’s like that, but it could be, come to think of it,” Auntie Sandra looked closer. “I’m not sure. Still, going beyond this energy here is not gonna be easy. I don’t have to sugarcoat things for you anymore, you’re not a kid. It’s gonna be the hardest thing your man does in his life, to let go of this woman, and he might not be able to do it in time.  She promises a lot and delivers too little. Poor fella.” She took a deep breath before continuing “Either way, the future changes all the time. Right now, it seems you two are gonna make it, though. Besides, you’re gonna start working again soon. It’s not in the question I asked, but it seems to be important. You lost your job recently?”

“Oh yes, at the bar. I stayed back to take care of mama.”

“Well, consider yourself lucky. An opportunity presents itself! Close to home too,” Auntie Sandra showed the Queen of Pentacles “But not this one. You’re moving.” 

“Yes, I am.” Audrey said, looking around the apartment she grew up in. “I don’t know where to go yet.” Auntie Sandra began putting the cards away, her cigarette dangling from her lips.

“My sister owns an apartment next to that corner store, you know it? Maybe you could rent it.” Audrey’s eyes lit up.

“The corner store?” She asked, newly excited “Next to Mr. Mushnik’s flower shop?” 

“Yeah, you know the spot.”

“Yeah…” Audrey said, trailing off. “I sure do!"

----

In the morning after moving, Audrey finally mustered up the courage to walk up to Mr. Mushnik’s flower shop, fixing her hair and dress all the way. It had been a while since she had stopped by the windows to look at the peonies and lilies, which were still there, although even scarcer than before, so the nervous feeling pooling up at her stomach was predictable, she thought.

When she walked in, the bell chimed to indicate a customer, and mr. Mushnik was quick in his step out of the back.

She smiled at him.

“Hello, mr. Mushnik." He looked as if he saw a mirage at first, before opening his arms expansively.

“Audrey! Audrey, right?” Audrey nodded. “Got out of that joint? Came to work for me?” he looked around, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, I’m afraid it’s not much, but it’s honest, and we still need a girl to make arrangements. Is that a deal?” She was flabbergasted.

“Sure!” she said, stepping further into the store. It was the first time she ever went in, and she couldn't believe it wouldn't be the last. Mr. Mushnik continued:

“Great! Can you start right away?” Audrey stared at him, wide eyed.

“Sure!”

“Great, fantastic news. I gotta tell Seymour.” Mr. Mushnik went to the door at the left of the shop. She had entirely forgotten about the man that Mr. Mushnik told her he employed, the same one who had thrown up in the alley.

Audrey had never met a man who couldn’t hold his liquor before. She hadn’t been with too many men who weren’t at least a little drunk, so she was eager to know what that Seymour looked like.

“Seymour!” Mr. Mushnik yelled and Audrey could hear a noise of not one, but several things breaking at the lower levels. When she made a mention to go and check it out, Mr. Mushnik stuck an arm out, preventing her. “Don’t worry, he does this everyday," he rolled his eyes. "Seymour!” 

Audrey could hear a faint “I’ll be up in a minute!” before identifying the sound of rushed footsteps coming upstairs. Her heart was racing in her chest and she swallowed a lump. She thought she was gonna faint until Seymour finally opened the door, emerging from within.

“Seymour, this is Audrey. She’ll be working for us, doing arrangements.” Mr. Mushnik said, pointing from one to the other. “Audrey, this is Seymour.”

Audrey raised her hand in a wave and both stared at each other as if they had never seen another human before, or as if they were completely alone in the world. Forgetting himself, Seymour fixed his glasses and almost dropped another pot.

"Oh!" Audrey said and bent over to help him. Crisis averted, they raised their bodies together, looking into each other's eyes.

“Hi,” Audrey’s shy voice was the first to breach the gap. “Pleased to meet you, Seymour.”

“Li… Likewise,” Seymour said, stuttering a little.

“Great, great, introductions done.” Mr Mushnik clapped his hands. “Seymour, go check the flower pots, I need you to spray pesticide on that snake plant.”

“On it!” Seymour said, finally looking at something that wasn’t Audrey, diligently lowering his head to go and tend to the plant. She followed him with her eyes all the way to the back.

“Seymour will show you the flower arrangement table next, won’t you Seymour?” 

“Yes, sir!” Seymour yelled without looking back. Mr. Mushnik glanced at Audrey and pointed in the direction of his employee’s voice.

“Go on,” he said, before putting his coat on. “I need to go out for a little errand. I trust you kids are gonna be fine until I come back.”

“Yes, mr. Mushnik!” Audrey guaranteed. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be just fine."

“I wouldn’t worry about you. It’s the other one that’s the problem,” Audrey looked down, not meeting Mr. Mushnik’s eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

Once he was gone, she raised her head to look at the window to the back, which was still open. She could see Seymour tending to the plant in there, looking at it intently. It was much in the same fashion Auntie Sandra looked at her, she supposed, but exceedingly more lovingly. She observed him at work for a second, before realizing it was also part of her job to tend to plants.

She made her way to the back, high heels on wood, and didn't notice that every single hair on his body flew up at the sound of her.

When she finally showed up at the door, he nearly dropped everything again.

“Oh!" She exclaimed, rushing towards the table.

“I'm fine, thank you, Audrey.” Realizing they were close again, but this time alone and unbothered, she took this opportunity to observe Seymour better.

His glasses were a tad crooked once more–which he fixed again upon noticing her glance–and he had no fashion sense, but not in a bad way. It was more in a quirky, cute way. He also had blue eyes, which looked into hers, even if for just a second, making her blush.

Looking away, she decided to tend to the flowers.

“You’re good at your job.” It was a statement of a fact. She didn’t need to know him for too long to understand this. All those plants looked magnificently green.

“Me?” Seymour asked, dismissing the notion in a second, with a shrug. “I just like plants.” 

“Oh, me too! I used to stare at the flowers on the window every time I walked by...” Seymour’s eyes flashed in recognition.

“Hey, I think I’ve seen you before!” he pondered for a second, but only a second. “You used to stare at the peonies, a... and the lilies!” Audrey looked at him.

“Yes!" Seymour smiled at her for the first time and Audrey caught herself mirroring it wider. She could tell he didn’t smile much by the way he tried to hide his face from her, and once he was looking at the plants again, Audrey observed him once more. The flowers were completely forgotten.

Seymour had brown hair. He was sort of helpless. He definitely was no… Who did she say at the time? James Stewart? No... Cary Grant? Yes... But he was sweet and charming in his own way. And he was poor, by the looks of it. Could he...?

No. Seymour seemed far too sweet. Far too good. She watched him spraying the plants in an almost devoted manner, trying not to trip and drop any of them on the floor. 

Audrey finally devoted herself to her own work. It was hopeless to want anything further in that direction, she could already tell. What would a guy like Seymour even want with a former waitress, a girl who never had any prospects in life, who skips from bad boyfriend to bad boyfriend? It just simply couldn’t be between them. 

She’d have to look for her brown haired, sudden man, elsewhere.

[katsukikitten]

Kitten I’m gonna let you pick everything for me I’m curious 👀

Okay Kat hear me out, omega you, although v sassy (not in a bitchy way either) and Alpha Kirishima

Who's so so sweet, y'all met at Fat Gums agency while you were doing an intern program for your final year of college. Kirishima was so smitten with you he put in a request to have you as his personal assistant, keep in mind the Number Five pro Hero has never had an assistant before and normally hangs around betas and alphas. He can be found ushering crying omegas here and there but not so much being around them.

Until you of course, who he takes home personally 👀 and makes sure you have enough scent blockers and hormone patches to keep you safe when he has to be on patrol or a mission. He's got you on speed dial and anytime you say you're cold he secretly hopes you want his hoodie to keep in your room or nest. More than happy to peel his hoodie, still warm from his body and pass it to you. But neither of you are dating 👀 not yet.

One day, close to one of his ruts, he sees Shouto talking with you, the man leaning over to give you his ear because Shouto is so handsome it's a bit hard to speak up around him. And Shouto puts his hand on your back and it's a little too low (it's barely lower back) for Kirishima's liking and Eijirou snaps

"Get your hands off of her." It's a growl, a territorial growl and Shouto quirks his brow cause he's never seen his friend get so worked up. Immediately Kirishima is apologizing when all the while you're feeling a bit dizzy from how hot Kirishima baring his sharp teeth was

[boygina-philosopher]

Molar lickers

Feat. Scout/demo

Kinktober day 3: snowballing

Meta: one shot, no beta, short story, mlm

Tags: bottom scout, slow, sloppy, oral sex, fat cock, snowballing, makeout, tender, lap sitting, barely any dialogue, lip fixation, big league chew for some fuckin reason

____________________________________________

Scout has beautiful lips. A little larger and Round on the top one, with a Cupid's bow that dipped like a spade. The bottom lip was almost pouty, and was bitten by his razor canines when he was in a tight spot. Demo probably shouldn't have thought about his lips as often as he did. The way the younger man licked them glossy, the way they wave when he chews his big league gum, swingin' sour apple of course. (Demo had tried a bit of the stuff, not as sweet enough to be utterly repulsive like a banana split, but too sweet. That was entirely overpowered by the fact that it was in fact, swingin' sour as fuck.)

It felt like a dream watching those perfect lips suckling on his cock, dribbling and licking. Scout bobbled his head up and down him precisely, laying his hands gently on the flesh between Demo's thighs and hip bones. A large glossy hand gently lay across the scout's, across from this the other hand snaked through the scout's hair, gagging and choking him on the larger man's cock.

"yer damn pretty, lad... hah, gaggin' an cryin' on me cock. Should keep ye more like this- fuck, ghh- strapped to me bed, ready an' waiting to take me again. Every day."

Scout lifted his head, for about four seconds licking a single stripe up the bottom of Demo's cock, kissing the slit dribbling precum. Demo shivered as pleasure crept up his spine. His warm cock was chilling, and it twitched, sending zaps down throughout his legs.

The younger man smirked his silly crooked bunny teeth, steadily licking vertical along the side of the shaft. Fuck. He throbbed, caressing scout's cheek, landing on his chin, holding it tender as one would with an egg.

Little shit. Must be satisfied, as the little man, kneeling between Demo's legs as he sat on his bed, took in his mouth the head. God, his lips strained against the ridge, now red and covered in his love.

Scout swirled his tongue around the tip, finally descending on the shaft after an eternity. It felt like silk ribbon, the way it slid in so easily past the boy's face. An electric buzz flooded towards Demo's rocks and chest.

Scout struggled faintly as he swifted up and down the cock, feeling it bunt the back of his throat. The bulge was nearly visible within his throat. Hot tears rolled down his face as a guiding hand landed on his head. Deeper, more. Spittle slopped off his chin and down his neck, his face burned white hot. A wet slap marking the every passing moment was the only sound aside from the occasional gags and whimpers.

Scout looked up at demo with his beady eyes, wet and focused and slightly reddish. Tears clumped his eyelashes and rolled down crimson skin.

"Yer, hah, yer gonnae make- fuck, hahh! Ghhh!"

As much as demo wanted to force scout onto his cock, pumping his seed so deep it'd knock him up somehow or something, he wanted to watch scout's tongue drip with cum.

White ropes shot across scouts mouth, caught on his taser tongue and along his girlish mouth. It was hot and tasted like smokey whiskey. Scout stuck it all out and rested his head on Demo's large, safe hands. Scout felt himself lifted swift into the lap, squishy and warm, sheening.

Scout tossed his arms, lanky and brawny all at once, across Demo's shoulders, holding his own hands. A kiss wrapped his lips and then invaded his mouth. Demo's hand rested beyond scout's vision, one on his waist and one on the nape of his neck, tenderly pulling him closer into his own mouth. The smokey white seed flipped between them, fighting muscles licking every inch of their parallel lover. Each lick brought forth to the buds on their tongues salty slop, and it remained until there was nothing more.

[castershellwrites]

Eating In Rating: Explicit Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Fat Gum (Taishiro Toyomitsu)/Amajiki Tamaki

Tamaki’s been captured by villains. For weeks he's locked in an empty room in a hidden facility and ,through starvation, they’ve cut off his quirk. Fat Gum is on a rescue mission and will do whatever it takes to save his student. Tamaki is on the brink of giving up all hope when he sees his mentor: a shining hero and savior he’ll never be able to live up to. Tamaki is distraught at forever living in Fat’s shadow. Fat Gum is terrified he might be too late to save his sidekick. The road to recovery is long and hard. It's one they'll walk together. The last thing Taishiro wants to do is force Tamaki… but some things need to happen whether his trembling sidekick wants them or not. After recovering, Tamaki feels the same way… about thanking his hero and jumping his bones… whether Fat Gum wants it or not.

This fic is for the All You Can Eat Buffet, Fat Gum Bang ^_^

Thank you to Sai for beta reading and to FlameoHotman for the artwork that goes with this story :)

[ao3feed-spinaraki]

Don't Hide From Me

by Im_a_nerd

As far as the public is concerned, Hawks is this friendly, sunshine, effective hero – but every pro who's worked with him knows that he's not. He's a barely contained, could easily go too far, apex predator whose heroic heart is the only thing keeping him on the right side of the law.

Hawks does his best to be good, well behaved, and to avoid scaring the public – yet, people only like him until they get to know him. Which has been lonely but fine, for the most part.

It becomes not fine when he meets Touya and wants to get closer to him but has no idea how without hurting him.

What he doesn’t realize is that Touya doesn’t fear him – he loves everything about Hawks.

Words: 2090, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Takami Keigo | Hawks, Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko, Hero Public Safety Commission (My Hero Academia), Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Iguchi Shuuichi | Spinner, Hero Public Safety Commission President (My Hero Academia)

Relationships: Takami Keigo | Hawks & Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko, Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Iguchi Shuuichi | Spinner/Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Dabi | Todoroki Touya & Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Takami Keigo | Hawks & Toyomitsu Taishirou | Fat Gum

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Multiple, POV Alternating, BAMF Takami Keigo | Hawks, Takami Keigo | Hawks Acts Like a Bird, Protective Takami Keigo | Hawks, Good Hero Public Safety Commission (My Hero Academia), HPSC not the villain this time, Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko is a Good Friend, Banter, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is Not a Villain, Civilian Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Mutual Pining, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Enji Todoroki is not redeemed, Canon typical injuries, Light Angst, it ends well i promise, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Gets Therapy, and proper medical treatment, so scars but not staples on Touya, League of Villains Are Not Villains (My Hero Academia), League of Villains as Family (My Hero Academia), Dabi | Todoroki Touya is a Little Shit, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Esteem Issues, Hawks has anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Communication, BAMF Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Getting Together, censored swear words because that's how I choose to write, Beta Read

source: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54621682

[mistyrosewriter]

This was written for the |BODY SWAP BANG| on Twitter!

For this bang I got to work with the |STACYWALTERS| for this Bang! Check out her awesome piece |HERE|

Thank you to the awesome |QUIRKYROSE85 for being my Beta for this fic!~

Please read below:

Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

Gen

Fandom:

僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Relationships:

Sensei | All For One & Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko

Kurogiri & Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko

Kurogiri & Midoriya Izuku

Midoriya Inko & Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko

Midoriya Inko & Midoriya Izuku

Midoriya Izuku & Sensei | All For One

Characters:

Midoriya Izuku

Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko

Midoriya Inko

Sensei | All For One

Kurogiri (My Hero Academia)

Tsukauchi Naomasa

Toyomitsu Taishirou | Fat Gum

Additional Tags:

Canon-Typical Violence

Quirk Accident (My Hero Academia)

divine intervention

Quirkless Midoriya Izuku

Post-Quirk Appearance Tomura

Gaslighting

Bullying

Inko is best mom

Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko Needs a Hug

Midoriya Izuku and Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko are Siblings

Language: English

Collections: BNHA Body Swap Bang

Summary:

10yo Tomura bumps into 5yo Izuku and divine intervention has them swapping bodies. Izuku, freaked out by AFO, runs away from him and finds a Hero and tells them about what he experienced. Meanwhile, Tomura is experiencing being with a loving mother, but also what Izuku goes through and tells Inko about it. They're brought back together at the police department where it becomes a matter of trying to figure out how they switched bodies, but until then they end up as brothers.

[ao3feed-bnha-rarepair]

Without you I am nothing.

Without you I am nothing. by hoodiebuddy

Paralyzed with fear, scared to move even an inch because the sight in front of him is one he never wished to see.

Words: 2550, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Amajiki Tamaki, Toogata Mirio, Hadou Nejire, Kirishima Eijirou, Toyomitsu Taishirou | Fat Gum, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Relationships: Amajiki Tamaki/Toogata Mirio

Additional Tags: Angst, Established Relationship, Protective Toogata Mirio, Amajiki Tamaki & Hadou Nejire Friendship, Hadou Nejire is a Good Friend, Amajiki Tamaki Needs a Hug, no beta we die like nighteye, Brother and sister relationship for Mirio and Nejire

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47640043

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

Captured Stars and Stolen Hearts

Captured Stars and Stolen Hearts by YaLocalFanFicAddict

Watch the movie here ☞ https://moviestowatch.tv/watch-movie/watch-howls-moving-castle-online-19103.5298451

Katsuki needed a sorcerer to help him reverse a spell the Wizard of the Waste cast upon him. A curse of hatred and rage doomed those to push everyone with a heart away. So what happens when Katsuki finds a boy that doesn't meet the standards? After bumping into many magical beings, Katsuki realized his quest would be more challenging than he thought.

Words: 2236, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Eijirou, Uraraka Ochako, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Toyomitsu Taishirou | Fat Gum

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, No Beta We Die Like Ash Lynx in The Library, Found Family, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Fluff, Angst and Feels, Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, Late Night Conversations, I can't decide if I like Ochako/Midoriya or Todoroki/Midoriya so we have both, Out of Character Bakugou Katsuki, Alternate Universe - No Quirks

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45651256

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

I Think I Gave to Much

I think I gave to much by Melon muffin

After years of being bullied Midoriya's Izuku is finally put in a situation that made him re-think the idea of being a hero. He would leave Aldera and put behind everything that happened there. He has a new school, new hobbies, and for the first time in a while, people he can call friends. When he comes home his mother no longer looks so worried about him. His grades improve and he finds himself focusing more and more on himself instead others. For once things felt stable for Midoriya.

Crazy how quickly that feeling went away.

Words: 3253, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

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

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Inko, Toogata Mirio, Sasaki Mirai | Sir Nighteye, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Toyomitsu Taishirou | Fat Gum

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Inko & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: No Beta, Tags May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, spoilers in the tags, Angst, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Accidental Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku gets a quirk, Midoriya Izuku Has a Telekinesis Quirk, mentioned- Class- 1A, Mentioned Established Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Slow to get to the action, characters not mentioned in tags, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Graphic Description of Injuries, mentions of mental health issues, Near Death Experiences

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44236381