#hes been in my class for months and i have literally never paid attention to him

[faerociousbeast]

wait shit the guy isnt here today and im not having breathing problems

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying my family shows favoritism towards my baby cousin?

(This is copied from my Reddit drafts because my partner told me tumblr would be better for this and I trust them)

Okay this is a long one so I’m just gonna throw out fake names for everyone and everyone is white middle class Americans

I, Op, 20M, I’m a trans man not accepted by my family. This is relevant

Renee, 20F, my twin sister

Bea, 16F, my younger sister

Lee, 35F, my aunt on my father’s side

Lucas, 2M, my cousin, son of Lee

Suzie, 5F, my cousin, daughter of Lee

My father, 44M, the patriarch of our whole family

My mother, 45F

Grandpa, 76M, paternal grandpa, previous patriarch

Grandma, 74F, paternal grandma

So I’m sending this in on Christmas Day of 2023. For some context, I still live at home, but it’s more of a roommate situation now that I’m an adult. Renee lives on her out-of-state college campus but visits for holidays, and Bea is still a high schooler. Lee, her children, and her husband who isn’t relevant to this (I love my uncle, we just literally never talk) live across the country. My father is losing the battle with cancer and can’t travel, so we had two separate christmases this year, one with my immediate family and one with Lee. Grandma and Grandpa went to Lee’s, which was awesome for me because that meant I got to avoid them this year!

As the character list above states, I’m (one of) the oldest of the five grandkids with my cousins being born a lot later than me and my sisters. My family is a traditional WASP family and staunchly conservative with Aunt Lee actively being a cop right now while my parents and Grandpa served in the military. Growing up undeniably queer was hilarious, I know. But the family dynamic wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, my family did a good job of trying to hide the fact that Renee was the favorite child lol, but that was more on the basis of her having the same traditional values that they do until Aunt Lee had Suzie, then she obviously became the favorite. Fine by me, she’s an adorable girl and I love spoiling her. Also, ACAB does apply for Aunt Lee for being complacent in this system, it’s not just the most relevant part of the story besides explaining how she fits into the family dynamic

But then Lee had Lucas a few years later and the focus in the family shifted to him. At first, it was baby fever making everyone dote over him (and I’m guilty of this too) but after a while, I realized that the fever hasn’t died down. If we had family reunions, everyone would flock to Lucas and I would be the one watching Suzie. For a toddler, she’s a great conversationalist, but it was still sad to see all her aunts and uncles and cousins showering her baby brother with attention and not her. And then the comments started. That my father would only refer to Lucas as “my nephew” even when talking directly to Lee (unhinged to witness in person). That Grandpa was so happy to finally have a grandson (felt great). The lady-killer comments and guessing what profession he’s gonna go into based on how chubby of a baby he is (the money’s on Linebacker, little dude is built like a truck). Stuff like that

None of these comments were ever made about Suzie when she was born, and I really don’t want to admit that it’s because Lucas is a boy, but thats the only answer I can think of when trying to understand the favoritism. Lucas is showered in gifts and love and while I know newborns need that, Suzie received nowhere near this much attention. Lee’s husband doesn’t go to family functions because he works full time, but I heard Suzie mumble at Thanksgiving last month that she wanted to go home to daddy. It broke my fucking heart, so I called him and she got to FaceTime with my uncle until my phone died

At this point, I’m not even upset that the family ignores my obvious trans-ness as I’m over a year on T (paid for by myself too) in favor of my boy cousin. I’m upset that Suzie is getting left out of the fawning while she’s still super young and she could grow up resenting Lucas because of it.

Anyways, so this morning we opened gifts as an immediate family and I got to FaceTime my significant other as they unboxed their gift from me and we were having a good time until my dad FaceTimes Grandpa. Grandpa answers and Dad immediately asks how his nephew is. Lucas is pushed in front of the phone and all I can hear is asking about how Lucas is, is Lucas talking yet, is Lucas reading yet. I manage to squeeze my head in and ask about Suzie and Lee’s voice off camera says that “oh she’s fine, just snobbish.” Snobbish? A five year old?

And here’s where I’m probably the Asshole. Honestly, I’m looking between ESH and JAH here, but would perfectly understandable if tumblr decides YTA. My response to Lee’s comment was: “well maybe she wouldn’t be if everyone didn’t pick Lucas as the family favorite.”

My dad smacked me upside the head, Renee and Bea got really pissed off, and the FaceTime went quiet until it was cut off and Grandpa called back to talk to Dad privately. Bea called me an asshole and while my Mom got onto her for her language, Mom agreed that I was.

My dad came back from the phone and did the silent point towards his bedroom, y’all with shitty parents know the one. Because I’m twenty fucking years old and pay RENT here, I shook my head, grabbed my keys, and went to go hang out with my significant partner and work friends. We had a great time and I’m currently in the car with my significant other while typing this. I’m gonna spend the night at their place and go back in the morning to see how bad the damage is. My significant other says I was justified in what I said, but two of my work friends (one who’s a Cishet guy who grew up in a similar household and another who’s a new dad with his own son) say that what I said was uncalled for and rude. They explained that I had no right to weaponize Lucas and Suzie like that and I understand that. I’m just tired of Suzie being neglected and, selfishly I know, I’m tired of how my identity is ignored as well

So, tumblr, AITA?

TL;DR, My two year old cousin is the “only” grandson in the family. The family ignores my male identity and my baby cousin’s five year old sister to fawn over the two year old. Am I The Asshole for pointing this out point blank in front of the whole family on Christmas morning?

What are these acronyms?

[starryyskies]

Lil update in case y’all care ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

I’m moving from my shit apartment starting the beginning of august, and my current semester ends near august 13th. My next semester starts almost 2 weeks after (classes start on the 22nd but it’s good to get it started earlier since most classes open early).

Hopefully by then I’ll be moved out, feel more organized and less stressed, and manage my time a bit better.

Classes are going well despite being super fucking stressful, I’m at the very least passing for now lol

But as for drawing, besides that one doodle I finished and coloured, I haven’t been able to do anything at all. It really disappoints me because I see all this amazing art and my fomo (fear of missing out) gets so bad lol. But I am being responsible and doing my best (╥ᆺ╥；)

Thank you guys for your support and kindness and understanding ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

So in case you’re curious my struggles currently read below lol

So, the place I work at, my store is a corporation and we’ve been basically getting babysat by managers from other stores who are also watching their own store, getting paid a shit amount for creating and maintaining not just the scheduling for both stores, but also managing any issues that arise. So we’re on our 4th manager now, and while he’s the sweetest and fucking raddest manager of all times, he is doing the bare minimum for our store. And trust me, I do NOT blame him. To be honest, he is getting paid salary for being a manager of his own store, and it’s like 56k a year or something which isn’t bad at all. But watching a completely different store?

75. Dollars. A WEEK?! That is LITERALLY a slap in the face. That is the CEO saying a big ass fuck you to its employees. So of course he’s doing the bare minimum. Coping and pasting parts of the schedule, he never comes into our store, and while he’s attentive when it comes to issues, he’s our only source of upper management support we have.

We have workers who have worked with the company for 3+ years, 8+ years, and 20 years. They know what they’re doing, but when I am running the shift by myself, I can’t rely on my coworkers to get back to me, because they are not obligated to.

So the schedule is pretty awful sometimes. Sometimes we’re over staffed when we could’ve used the help other times, sometimes we’re severely understaffed. Like for example, today was a shit show. We had 3 people during our busiest time. (I work at a coffee shop) and so we have one person on register who also takes care of the food and packs the deliveries, and then one person on the coffee bar is not enough to handle the amount of drinks they get, so I was basically running back and forth to support both positions while also making sure my coworkers got their breaks. Icing on the cake was when we realized it was way too hot inside the cafe and learned our AC is broken AGAIN! It was 84 degrees before I left work. That is miserable running around taking care of hot drinks and food.

This is something I deal with at least 2 times a week

While also doing school work full time, having a strict deadline to follow to submit assignments (thankfully it’s all online so I can be somewhat flexible)

And on top of all of that, I’m moving in 2 weeks, school finals will be going on by then, and life has been kicking my family in the ass.

My step dad, who I’ve know since I was 6-7, he’s been that second dad to me, I think of him as a hero. He unfortunately has been diagnosed with single cell lung cancer. It had spread to his ribs and femur. While he’s still fighting and going through aggressive treatment, I’m not sure what the outcome will be. He’s putting on a strong face, so I can’t tell how serious it is.

My grandfather is also in the hospital. He’s had a heart condition that requires him to wear an AED pacemaker in his chest, and recently it was used because he had a seizure. He’s not doing too well, and who knows what will happen.

Oh! And my older sister’s wedding is IN TWO MONTHS! I’m the damn maid of honor, and I do nottttt like the attention. She’s the kinda person who likes big fancy weddings but she’s doing her best financially to make it happen, though she also was promoted to manager for her store (we work for the same company) and going through that crazy long training is surly not fun lol.

But anyway, thanks for reading my rambles. Sometimes I feel like nobody really cares but I get reminded that there are people out there who are wondering how I am. So this is for you people

(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[stateswscarlet]

Hi Scarlet! I saw your twt bio said no dms so I thought I would share my successes here that I got from your threads and content!

Bit of a background: I hovered over from the a+p girlies after affirming for 9-10 months for all my desires, using everything they taught and even putting full faith into thoughts and science manifesting. I would affirm almost nonstop (during work, school, even as I was eating/talking to others) for the entire time and I eventually got super frustrated! Not a single manifestation came in or even the slightest movement, maybe a butterfly and a car here and there (looking back at it its because I accepted seeing them internally and didn’t contradict that state, it wasn’t even the affirming). In March-ish I found your account on my timeline and previously I would ignore any states related information because I thought states were the same as dominant thoughts, but something about your thread at the time caught my attention which led me down a rabbit hole (positively!) of consuming your threads. I realized a lot of it actually made sense and explained why I didn’t see success so far.

Anyways so after a few weeks of learning about states I decided to stop overconsuming and stick to your account and edward art ONLY for all my manifestation needs. It was a little hard breaking free from the affirming mindset but I decided to focus on embodying how it would feel if I no longer had to worry about my thoughts and allowed that to wash over me. I used your “embody being the solution” thread SO SO much and I realized I was able to quickly solve all my internal issues using that because anytime I felt stuck, I just had to assume the feeling of being unstuck and what the ideal situation would be! I also fell in love with fulfilling my imagination and although I did care about experiencing it in the 3D, it was more like me not even thinking of it reflecting because its a LAW. I remember you saying you don’t even have to think about stuff reflecting because it does so anyways and my only role is to naturally give it to myself. So here is a list of some of my *bigger* manifestations that came in within a month-ish of me APPLYING states of being after I learned about it:

SP and I got back together after 8 months no contact and 11 months separation

My top choice graduate school which rejected me months ago actually reaching out to me offering me a spot saying the rejection was a “system error”

Free coachella tickets all expense paid in a luxury hotel that sponsored not only me but my boyfriend and 3 friends

My favorite makeup brand randomly sending me a HUGE package of makeup that I never ordered or asked for (I wanted more makeup from this brand)

My dad receiving a random check to clear his entire credit card debt of around a decade

A better job for my boyfriend that pays him double of his last one and has flexible hours that he didn’t need to apply for or interview and hes been loving it!

Free first class plane tickets to Bali this summer! I had already booked normal ones months before but last week I got an email saying my party had randomly been selected for a free upgrade. This happened like a day or so after I for fun assumed the state of someone who has a live of luxury.

I have other smaller successes but these are some of my main ones!I really want to thank you scarlet you have honestly changed my life and I can’t believe it truly was that easy all along! Thank you for your amazing threads, please continue dropping more (I literally have your notifs on haha)

AWW YAYYYYYAYAYS IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!! You’re absolutely amazing🫶🏼

I dont even use this platform but just thought I would share this ❤️

[romanarose]

Santi with reader on her period

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader

Summary: You wake up to find you not only bled all over yourself, but your new boyfriend and his bed.

A/N I am on my period I literally just wanted to write this self indulgent shit

WARNINGS: lots of talk about blood, period, embarrassment, like,,,,, so much blood talk.

**************

When Santiago Garcia woke up that morning, the first thing he registered was you on top on him. You two hadn’t been dating for very long, a few months at most, but had quickly started staying the night at his place. He knew sometimes you got nightmares or struggled to sleep, and he would sometimes find self underneath you. He had insisted you could wake him if you were scared or couldn’t sleep, but inturn, you had insisted that all you needed was to snuggle up to him. One or the other had happened last night, as you were laying on his chest, your leg bent and spread over him in the shorts and tank top you went to bed in. 

The next thing he registered was that he was wet. Brain still foggy from sleep, he wondered if he had a wet dream, but the source seemed to come from you. Was it possible for you to get that wet from a sex dream? Were you rutting against his thigh in your sleep? He didn’t know if even that could get how soaked he felt. Was it on the bed? Fuck, he should’ve paid more attention in health class. Ah, who was he kidding, they didn’t teach this in health. Too sleep addled to think further, he pulled back the blanket, and suddenly everything made sense. 

“Sweetheart, hey” He carefully woke you.

A tired smile greeted him as you gazed up at his face. “Morning, Santi… what-” you started to register what he had.

“You started your period-”

“OH MY GOD” You sat up in horror looking at the red sheets and his stained shorts. “Fuck fuck fuck! Im so sorry!” 

“Honey it’s okay, it’s just blood” Not the first time Santi had blood on him, not the last.

Your face was beat red, humiliation burned out your skin. You couldn’t even look at your new boyfriend as you scrambled off his bed, trying not to get anything more on his blankets. “I’ll do the laundry, I’ll get the blood out, I’m so sorry”

“It’s fi-” he tried to calm you, but you weren’t listening

“Oh my god it’s early, I don’t even have any emergency shit! Fuck!” You feel a fresh wave come out, brought on by your angst and sudden blood is dripping down your legs. You burst into tears, running into his bathroom and slamming it behind you as you sat on the toilet, crying. He was going to think you were disgusting, he was never going to let you stay over again, if he didn't break up with you completely. This is the kind of thing you could get away with after a few years of dating, but a few months? Surely he was texting his friends right now, and they were all laughing at you, and he’d make fun of you for this for the short remainder of your relationship and-

Knock, knock

“Honey? You okay?”

You take a deep breath, trying not to sound too pathetic, but your voice is wobbly anyway. “No, I just bled all over you. I’m going to fucking killself, this was my 13th goddamn reason, your probably making fun of me with Benny right now and I don’t even have any pads or clothes and I have blood everywhere on me-”

“Can I come in?”

“No, I’m embarrassed enough”

“Okay” you hear a rustling at the door.“Here’s some clothes and some towels. Take a shower, get dressed. brought you boxer briefs and a washcloth, if you get done before I’m back, just use the washcloth as a pad. Or take a hot bath, whichever.” A pause. “And baby, I’m not making fun of you to Benny. You know how times I woke up covered in my own bodily fluids after a night of heavy drinking? This is nothing.”

You shut your eyes tightly. He was so goddamn sweet it fucking hurt. “Where are you going”

“I’m gonna run to the corner store, get you what you need, okay?” His voice is soft through the door.

“Yeah, okay. My purse is on the counter, my pin is-”

“Aht, no, I’m getting it”

“Santi-”  you begin to protest.

“Can’t hear you! Hamper is outside the door.” he began to walk away. You smile a bit, despite your humiliation. When you hear him leave, you clean up enough to allow you to take off the clothes. It had spread up your torso and down your legs, you looked like Carrie. You open the door to find a hamper and clothes as promised. You toss the bloody mess in, and get into the shower where you prompt break down crying again, thoughts still spiraling in embarrassment.

Despite it being in walking distance, he drove his car to the closest convenience store, wanting to get back before you were done to save you any more embarrassment if he could. He had called Frankie, knowing he could give him what he needed to know, while being discreet. “Hypothetical situation”

“Pope it’s 10 am on a sunday”

“I know, I know. But let’s say, maybe, possibly, your lady was on her period and she didn’t bring anything and you needed to get her what she needed”

“Ah. I see. Well, hypothetically, pads and tampons of course.”

“What kind?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No, she was too busy crying in the bathroom for bleeding on me”

“Oh jeez. Yeah I’d probably cry over that too. Well, in general, anything with work in a pinch. Where are you?”

“7/eleven”

“Not a lot of options anyway. Unless she has an allergy or sensitive skin, whatever they have will work for today.”

”Why does walmart need a whole aisle?”

“Well different brands, but also sizes for different flows. Also some people got sensitive skin and need organic, or the big ones for overnights.”

“You certainly know your way around a vagina”

Fish chuckled. “Yeah, I do. That’s what happens when you date a girl for more than a month, ese”

“Hey! I’ve been with her for three now!” Santi said defensively.

“Ohhh, three months, I’ll reserve a church for the wedding”

“I’m serious about her, Fish” Santi got a bit more stern. “I want her to stay. She’s different.”

“I know, I know you’re serious. Listen, I’ll go to the store with you sometime this week and help you get shit girls need so you can be prepared, make a good impression. But for now, get snacks and motrin”

When he got home, you were showering, bloody clothes tossed in the hamper. Perfect, he thought. He was able to throw your clothes, his dirty ones that you bled on, and his sheets and blankets in the wash so you didn’t have to worry about them, Fish texting him laundry tips on blood removal. When he heard the shower turn off, he dashed over to the door. “Baby, I got the pads and tampons” Santi made a conscious effort to name them, trying his best to show he wasn’t grossed out by the idea of periods. “They’ll be by the door, I’ll be in the kitchen.” He gave you privacy to do what you needed.

When you emerged, it was clear you had been crying. “I’m sorry” You whimper.

Santiago speeds over to where you’re lip is quivering, taking you in his strong arms. “Don’t be embarrassed, please. I got everything washing, it was time for me to clean my sheets anyway.” A lie. He washed them yesterday because he knew you were coming over and he wanted to impress you with clean sheets.. “You don’t work today right?”

“No, I’m off”

“Great, I am too. Do you wanna… do you wanna stay the day? I’ll take you home in the morning so you can get ready for work”

You feel emotional again. “You want me to sleep over again? On my period?”

Santiago kissed your forehead. “I literally want you here all the time, no matter what, even if you’re on your period or you're sick.”

You pause, then mumble, dodging his eyes. “We can’t have sex”

Santi nods. “I know, that’s fine. We don’t have to have sex every time we see each other”

You are still unsure what to make of him. Santiago Garcia has been a mystery to you from day one, and each piece you learn only serves to further complicate him. “You want to just… hang out with me?”

Santi pulled back to look at you, concern on his face. “Of course I do. Baby I lo-” Santi stopped himself, realizing what he was about you say. He had never said I love you, he never stayed around long enough to do more than play house or hook up. He had never seen a future with anyone before you, no one mattered like you did… love was a big word, but when he saw the look on your face as he almost said it, he knew he couldn’t take the look of disappointment if he backed out. He swallowed all his nerves, and spoke again, holding both your hands. “I love you. And I don’t know what kind of guys you have been around, but I want to spend time with you with or without sex. You are just… you are everything to me.”

You face back tears on this high emotion day, and nod your head frantically, smiling. “I love you too, Santi, so much” and kissed him, feeling significantly less humiliated and significantly more infatuated with him.

Santi spent the day taking care of you, downloading instacart just to order the supplements you needed and pizza rolls you said were essential. He cuddled up next to you, rubbing your bloated tummy and pretending not to hear when you got gas, and rubbing lotion on your lower back and stomach where you cramped, bringing out the heating pad he used when his back bothered him. When you went to bed that night, thoroughly impressed that he had gotten you overnight pads AND regular, you decidedly had kept space between the two of you.

“Baby?” Santi spoke as he turned off the lights. “It’s fine if you don’t feel like cuddling but-”

“I’m trying to not bleed on you again” you blurt out

Santi grabs you, making you squeal as he pulls you towards him “If getting blood on me is what it takes to fall asleep like this every night, I won’t hesitate to choose this”

***********

[genshinconfessions]

one thing i'll never get over is just how YOUNG childe is... he fell into the abyss when he was FOURTEEN and had to survive for three months in canonical hell. when he came back, deeply traumatized because duh, his entire family thought smth was wrong with him and sent him off to the military to be rid of him. then he, as a 14 year old child, fought his way through the military and ended up as one of the most powerful leaders of said military, and i bet it didn't even take seven years (1/?)

full confession:

one thing i'll never get over is just how YOUNG childe is... he fell into the abyss when he was FOURTEEN and had to survive for three months in canonical hell. when he came back, deeply traumatized because duh, his entire family thought smth was wrong with him and sent him off to the military to be rid of him. then he, as a 14 year old child, fought his way through the military and ended up as one of the most powerful leaders of said military, and i bet it didn't even take seven years.

he had NO childhood. what should have been his childhood was just bloodlust and more bloodlust. it's even sadder when you realize that he's one of, what, seven children? and a middle one at that, so probably no one even paid him much attention until he disappeared. like, i can't tell you how fucked up i'd be if i went through what he did at age 14. like, how old is he now? hoyoverse says he's a young adult, right? so no more than 25, i'd guess.

that's actually insane if you think about it? imagine being 14 and accidentally falling into hell, having to survive three months with a mentor who doesn't even really like you, then getting booted off to the military and dealing with all of that, then getting dragged into the politics of the ruling class!!! at an age younger than 25!!! i'd literally go insane!

childe's story is probably one of the saddest but i feel like people don't realize it because he's usually so nice and seems like he turned out fine but the fact that he held off a whole giant whale from a different universe? pushing himself to the extremes for what must have been at least a year?

(idk if we were ever given the time he was missing in the fontaine quest, but i went over it with my friend and we estimated it was something like three years, but take that with a grain of salt) and remember, he was alone, visionless, and injured!!!

i know it's obvious that i'm a childe stan so this is a little bit biased but just, childe, man. i love him so much ugh.

[songmingisthighs]

i'm ranting here idc lmao skip if you don't wanna know the crap my mom pulled on me

so she suddenly came into my room asking me if i wanted to go to Starbucks and i said no bc... i don't want to go? THEN she suddenly went like (m: mom, s: smt)

m: why are you like this?

s: like what?

m: you changed. you're not like this usually

s: like what?

m: torturing yourself

s: who said i'm torturing myself?

m: well you're not talking and you seem to not want to connect to people

s: says who??? (literally i talk to meimei and my other sister all the damn time and I'm literally talking to my ex again so jokes on her) and i don't talk because there is nothing to talk about (and bc i can't talk to her about anything bc she cuts my words all the damn time and changes topics to whatever she wants to talk about and doesn't care about things that interest me??? does that seem like a conversation or relationship i wanna maintain ?? and my dad literally criticize me all the damn time because i have a headphone. I'm basically being bullied. not an hour ago, when they thought i couldn't hear them talking, my dad made YET ANOTHER COMMENT about me wearing my headphones despite me working on my freelance task which is doing translation which i can do unlike him who supposedly went to school in America and didn't even know that 'marital' is another word for marriage and literally had to come to me whenever he wants to spellcheck or translate a whole copy for his company as if google translate and Grammarly doesn't exist)

m: why so?

s: idk? because there just isn't anything to talk about?

m: well don't be like this

F Y TO THE FUCKING I, i "changed" because if i remember correctly (which i do, i have excellent recall skills but shit attention skills) i was criticized by my whole damn family INCLUDING AND ESPECIALLY HER, MY MOM because i was loud and as they told me, "girls shouldn't be loud and boisterous, that's unlady like." YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS UNLADY LIKE ???? REMINISCING ABOUT BREASTFEEDING AT A FOOD COURT IN SINGAPORE, TALKING ABOUT PUSSIES IN PUBLIC, SENDING A PICTURE OF AN ABALONE TO A FAMILY GROUPCHAT WITH NOT JUST PARENTS BUT CHILDREN AND SAYING "THIS LOOKS LIKE MY PUSSY HAHA" (my aunt did this not my mom or else i would've kms immediately), AND SAYING "I WANT TO TAKE A PISS" (but in a disgusting, uneducated Indonesian vernacular) OUT LOUD IN PUBLIC. i might not be the girliest girl, but when I'm in public, i have class. it's low but it's still above her

literally she only "cares" about me when my biological older sister is not around and another FYI, my biological older sister doesn't even seem interested in having me as a sister ??? never has been ??? i changed ??? no bitch, my mom changed when my sister is not around. my sister was in Singapore for like a month and during that time, she kinda paid more attention on me? BUT AS SOON AS MY SISTER RETURNS every single time she asked me if i want to go out is ALWAYS for my sister. "you wanna go out? we're taking your sister to the dentist" "wanna go out? your sister wants to go to (some damn nerd) camera convention (filled with sleazy people)" "wanna go out? we're going to pick your sister up from her hangout" G 0 R L TAKE A GUESS WHY I DON'T WANNA GO OUT. and last night, she came to my room to say 'you look pale, you need to get some sun' a. i have heat allergy in which my skin will itch bad if it's exposed to the dirty ass fucking air in this polluted country and sun which ofc she wouldn't remember bc she doesn't think my medical issues are real including my asthma, b. I'm part german and part chinese-indonesian, TAKE A DAMN GUESS WHY I'D LOOK PALE

and no, i'm not petty, i'm not butthurt, i just don't wanna spend my precious time talking about some damn stupid tiktok trend or going out only to spend the majority of time deciding where to go to and then going there just to sit around and do nothing ??

this shit is barely .01% of the whole crap that happened. even my therapist could only say 'get as far away as you can if you wanna start healing' and bitch I'm starting now, I'm distancing myself from shit that can bring my mental health to a worse place

and another another fyi, i've been depressed for WEEKS now but i have functional depression and if i try to explain that to her, she'll try to convince me that it's all in my head and that it only "feels" like so because I "convinced" myself i have that and that the only way i can remedy it is by going out and interact with people

a. she's an economy major who never used her "knowledge" so what the fuck does she know about mental health or biology or heck even psychobiology when it took me bashing my head into the wall to finally take my mental condition seriously

b. literally she doesn't even know me well enough to understand my situation she should consider just not act like she knows anything because she so fucking doesn't, she's wrong 8/10 times it's actually borderline funny hearing her make out-of-pocket reaches lmao

[mydekuacademia]

hi! this is an Emergency Request! i hope this okay to ask, but could i request Aizawa with a student reader whose entire family abused them physically/psychologically for most of their life and switched to just psychological abuse as they got older? Because of this they think they can't be a hero, they are afraid of bonding with anyone, and have started sleeping/eating much less and dread having to go home. And when dorm time rolls around they're scared their parents will refuse to let them go.

i hope this is okay! Thank you for taking the time to read my request!

I hope I'm not too late answering this! Also, sorry if this isnt written the best, im in the middle of a migraine

My dms are always open if you need to talk <3

Warning: child abuse (physical and psychological)

In Safe Hands

Some people love school - they get to see their friends, learn new things, etc. Some people hate school - they have to wake up early, be around people they hate, get told what to do, etc. But for you, school was your one and only safe haven.

Every day, you woke up to either furious screams or bruising blows. If you were lucky, your wakeup call was your threadbare blanket being torn off of you, but that was rare. After you woke up, you tried your best to tiptoe down the hallway to the bathroom once you were positive it was unoccupied. There, you would do your usual morning routine of showering and making yourself presentable. There wasn't much you could do about the bruises and welts littering your skin, but you always hoped everyone at school would assume they were from training. Nobody had questioned that excuse so far.

Little did you know, your homeroom teacher had been keeping an eye on you. He knew that your classmates hadn't hit you hard enough to leave marks that lasted more than a couple days. None of them gave you any reason to be sporting dark circles under your eyes. So he paid closer attention.

As the months passed by, you were physically injured less and less, but the mental torture escalated. Some days you were screamed at relentlessly for literal hours. Other days, your family acted as though you didn't exist - normally, that was a good thing, but now it just made you feel alone. You were gaslit, berated, taunted, and that was just the verbal aspect. Your family also worked to remove your sense of privacy and safety. They removed your bedroom door, forced you to take the lock off your phone and checked it regularly, set a strict curfew and locked you out if you missed it, and so on.

This all led you to become a different person. Your classmates all saw the change, even the ones you weren't particularly close to. You began to withdraw, not raising your hand in class or sitting with your friends at lunch, and eventually not eating lunch at all. You were unsteady in hero training, which resulted in easily lost matches and more frequent trips to Recovery Girl. You always hesitated when leaving the classroom at the end of the school day. People in Class B were even talking about seeing you asleep in empty classrooms during breaks.

Aizawa had more than enough reason to confront you, so he pulled you out of hero training one day and sat you down in the teachers' lounge with a cup of tea.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush," Aizawa started. "Something's going on. Your grades are dropping, you're not eating lunch, you aren't talking to your friends, you're falling asleep between classes. Care to explain?"

You froze, heart stuttering. You knew he meant well, you knew he would never do anything to hurt you, and yet you couldn't help but see the similarities between his inquiry and your family's interrogations. You trusted your teacher, but in that moment, he was yet another abuser.

Scalding tears filled your eyes and blurred your vision, reducing your teacher to a dark blob in front of you. You wanted to say something, but your throat locked up. Instead, you shook your head and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"You won't say?" he asked. You shook your head again. "Can't talk about it?" You nodded. "Alright, how about I ask some yes or no questions?" You nodded again.

"Are you having problems at home?"

You nodded.

"Are you safe at home?"

You shrugged.

"Does your family physically hurt you?"

You made a "sort of" motion with your hand. Tears trickled down your cheeks, and your chest ached.

"Okay, have they physically hurt you recently?"

You shook your head.

"Have they ever physically hurt you?"

Yes.

"Do they emotionally hurt you?"

Yes.

"Are you safe?"

Now, you didn't know how to respond to that. You didn't feel like your life was in danger, but you certainly didn't have a good quality of life.

At your pause, Aizawa changed tactics. "Do you need help?"

His heart absolutely broke at how desperate you looked when you frantically nodded at him. He already knew he would die for any of his students, but your reaction made him want to live for his students instead. Protecting them by taking a death blow in their stead was certainly one way to help, but he now knew he could do more by staying alive to advocate for them and intervene when necessary.

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like this will give you some hope," he started. "Nezu has been considering building dorms for all students to live in. You can get out, you can be safe."

He expected your expression to lighten, even just a bit, but was surprised to see you fall further into despair. Your face dropped into your hands, and your shoulders trembled as though he had just placed a massive burden on them.

"But Aizawa-sensei," you whimpered. "They'll never let me go."

"What do you mean?"

Your head shot up again, staring him directly in the eye. "They- they won't let me leave! I'm stuck there!" Your breathing picked up. "That probably means I won't be able to continue going to school here. I should probably just drop out now. I'm not fit to be a hero-"

"(Y/n)," Aizawa interrupted. "You will not have to leave UA. If your parents contest you moving into the dorms, the school will take legal action using what you just told me. As it is, even if you are allowed to move, we will make sure they face consequences for their actions."

You peered up at him through wet eyelashes, trying not to give in to the spark of hope that was trying to take light in your heart. It was too good to be true, wasn't it?

"Also, you are more than fit to be a hero. The fact that you haven't given up is proof enough of that. No hero is expected to continue fighting after a traumatic experience until they're healed - the same goes for you."

You sat up further and unconsciously wiped the tears from your face.

"As your teacher and pro-hero Eraserhead, I promise you, at this school you're in safe hands."

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You

Eddie Munson x OC, Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader, Fluff, Shakespeare, Pining

Lucy Henderson Character Bio, Lucy's Tag in General

Summary: Eddie proves he paid more attention in English than he lets on. OR, how Lucy discovered Eddie reciting Shakespeare is really hot.

Warning: This contains the entirety of the Queen Mab speech from Romeo and Juliet

Based on anon request: I’m feeling ridiculously soft for Eddie and Lucy rn. Any drabbles or one shots about a soft moment during the craziness or before the craziness of season 4?

A/N: I literally came up with this yesterday. I couldn't help it, the theater nerd is strong with me.

Word Count: 1.8K

    “Bullshit.”

    “Scouts honor.”

    “You were never in the scouts.”

    “Well what else am I supposed to swear on?”

    Lucy rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. She had been doing it all night and was starting to get good at it. 

    It was late. Their movie had ended and Lucy had dared to take Eddie up on his suggestion to just walk for a while. It wasn’t an unusual request. They did it all the time, but spending so much time alone with him was proving treacherous.

    Her little crush hadn’t faded since the end of the semester and they were almost to July. It felt like it was getting worse. 

    She thought some distance would do her some good, but Eddie had called her out of the blue and she couldn’t think of a good excuse not to. They were still friends. She couldn’t avoid him forever. A movie seemed innocent enough; dark, limited talking, safe. She had even managed to pay attention to what was on screen for most of it. Even still, his occasional commentary in her ear drove her to distraction. She honestly couldn’t remember anything of what they had just seen by the time they walked out. 

    If she had any sense she would have made up some excuse about work in the morning, but then he smiled and she knew she’d do just about anything he asked. 

    He kept the conversation going for the first stretch and eventually Lucy was able to relax enough to answer back. Nothing had changed. Eddie was still Eddie. She just had to remind herself of that and not get herself into a tizzy over a laugh or a look. 

    They had even managed to move past the subject of the movie to, of all things, Shakespeare. Somewhere in their rambles Lucy grumbled about wishing she could rent an apartment for three months to do summer stock in a big city or even just Shakespeare in the park. This prompted Eddie to make a rather bold claim pertaining to Mercutio and Queen Mab.   

    “Why would you even try to memorize the Queen Mab speech?” Lucy protested. 

    He shrugged. “It’s cool. I mean the rest of the play is gooey, lovey dovey shlock, but all the Mercutio stuff is awesome. Besides, I needed the extra credit.”

    “So you just up and performed in front of the entire class for a couple extra points?”

    He scoffed. “Please, if I did that my reputation would never recover. Mr. Kennedy just let me do it at lunch.” 

    Lucy’s lips pressed into a line. Mr. Kennedy was known for being one of the more reasonable teachers at Hawkins. She could see him offering to let Eddie perform privately if he felt like Eddie was otherwise putting in the effort. Still, she couldn’t help feeling like he was pulling her leg.

    Eddie caught her skeptical expression. “You don’t believe me.” 

    “I just don’t see it,” she admitted. 

    He nodded, his brows creasing in deep thought. It only took him a moment to come to a decision. “Okay.” 

    He took two long strides ahead before jumping up on a bench in front of an empty store front. He cleared his throat, placing a hand over his heart. 

    “I, Edward Munson, shall perform Shakespeare’s Queen Mab for the judgment and viewing pleasure of this illustrious audience,” he announced in the most obnoxious British accent he could muster as he gestured to the non-existent crowd. 

    Lucy let out a laugh, which only encouraged him.

    “Now I shall require some audience participation,” he said, peering down at her with a scrupulous eye, “assuming the audience has the play memorized as well.”

    “We do,” she assured. 

    “Excellent,” he grinned, dropping the accent while he was at it. “Now, let me see, how does it start?" He tapped his chin. "Romeo says, 'I dreampt a dream tonight'. Mercutio, 'And so did I'."

    Lucy smiled. "Well, what was yours?"

    Eddie grinned and something else seemed to shift inside him, like the turning of a dial. She'd seen it a handful of times when a campaign took on a particularly dramatic turn. A sudden tremble of anticipation shot through her.

    "That dreamers often lie," he answered.

    "In bed asleep while they do dream things true," she replied.

    "O," he crouched down, meeting her straight in the eye, "then I see Queen Mab hath been with you."

    He leaned in, his eyes glimmering with an unbalanced glee. “She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes, in shape no bigger than an agate-stone,” he raised his finger waving it in front of her eyes, “on the fore-finger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies, athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.”

    Ever so slowly he began to rise, his hands and arms animating every line.

    “Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, the cover of the wings of grasshoppers, the traces of the smallest spider's web, the collars of the moonshine's watery beams, her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, not so big as a round little worm Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. And in this state she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love.”

    He drawled out the final word mockingly as he once again turned his attention toward her, sinking down to her level. 

     “O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,” he continued, pointing to her knees. “O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,” he took her hand, pinching the ends of her fingers.  “O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,” he brushed her lips, or, at least, came close enough the air of his movements tickled her skin. 

    Lucy could feel her cheeks heat at the gesture. She thought he might stop to comment, but he didn’t break his stride as his expression kept up that half crazed smile.  

    “Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.” He straightened up, waving his hand in front of his nose as if offended by the smell.

    “Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,” he went on, now using his own body as demonstration. “And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; and sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, then dreams, he of another benefice: sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats.”

    He clutched his neck and Lucy felt something else change. Still in character, but the glee was gone, replaced with a menace that made her spine straighten. 

    “Of breaches,” he continued, “ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear,” he slammed his hand behind him making the glass of the storefront vibrate, “at which he starts and wakes, and being thus frighted swears a prayer or two and sleeps again.” 

    His eyes widened, his body like a live wire as if about the fall of the edge. 

    “This is that very Mab, that plats the manes of horses in the night, and bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled, much misfortune bodes,” he shouted. “This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them and learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage: This is she—” 

    "Peace, peace,” Lucy interjected, grabbing his hand. She didn’t know how she remembered the line, but was grateful she did. It would all feel a waste if she didn’t. “Mercutio, peace. Thou talk'st of nothing."

    "True,” he admitted, as if suddenly allowed to breathe again. He jumped down from the bench, never letting go of her hand as he looked down into her eyes. “I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air, and more inconstant than the wind, who woos, even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dew-dropping South."

    A silence fell then, not that Lucy notice for the thundering of her heart in her ears. She felt like her whole body was shaking. He really needed to stop looking at her like that. 

    Suddenly he looked away and up to the ceiling. 

    "I think it's Benvolio after that," he said, speculatively. 

    "Yeah," Lucy said, breathlessly. "I think you're right."

    Eddie looked back down. Mercutio was gone and he was back to his usual teasing self. "Good?"

    "Good?" she repeated. "Eddie, that was…holy shit!”

    She covered her mouth with her hands in some vain attempt to hide her smile and surely obvious blush.  

    She could say a lot of things to say about his impromptu performance; amazing, transcendent, mind blowing, but the one she kept coming back to was hot.  It was very, very hot. She couldn’t for the life of her explain why, but it was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen him do. 

    This was worse than when he ran lines with her for As You Like It.  New rule going forward, never let Eddie Munson perform Shakespeare. It was bad for her health.

    It didn’t help that he was grinning at her now with the most adorably proud expression. 

    “Think I earned that extra credit then?” he teased.

    “I think you deserve a full ride to Julliard.”

    He laughed. She couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn his cheeks were slightly pink. 

    “Seriously, that was incredible,” she continued. “Why haven’t you auditioned before? You would be amazing.” 

    He waved her off. “Oh c’mon Henderson, you know the rules. Seniors take priority. If I join now they’d have to commit to a one man show. Wouldn’t be fair to the rest of you.” 

    “You should still give it a shot,” she insisted. “I think you’d fit right in.” 

“Yeah?”

    Lucy felt her stomach flip. The look in those beautiful brown eyes was so soft it made her melt. This was why she had been avoiding him. All it took was one innocent look and she was a goner. How did people handle this? 

    “Yeah,” she said, glancing away. “I mean, unless you’re still worried about your reputation.” 

    He snorted, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he pushed them both forward. 

    “How about this, after you’ve made your spectacular Broadway debut and if I’m not busy performing at The Garden, drop me a line. I’d be happy to do a reading.” 

    She nodded along.  “You’ll be my first call.” 

    They continued on like that for a little while, speaking of dreams as if they would someday be reality.  Lucy hoped they would and that maybe, someday, she’d be able to tell Eddie exactly how he fit into hers.

[jcwriting]

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep.  Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense.  It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[tsukishumai]

pairing: Bokuto Kotaro x gn!reader

summary: whoever said being adult was fun obviously never had bills to pay. so when Akaashi offers up a way to earn cash fast, you jump at the opportunity. except, you never thought you’d find yourself modeling in your underwear... least of all with Bokuto Kotaro

wc; 3k+

tags; fluff, humor, college au, mentions of very slight nudity

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

If anyone else other than Akaashi offered you this position, you would probably punch them right in the face.

Maybe he considers this payback for all the times he’s had to listen to you whine about your problems during your shared shifts at the cafe, or maybe this truly was his own sadistic way of attempting to provide support.

“Okay, so I know a way you can make easy money,” he started, and already those words should have sent alarm bells ringing in your head, but this was Akaashi. You’ve only really known him for a short time, but already you knew he wouldn’t lead you astray.

But really, the electronic shop five blocks from campus told you it would cost 55000 yen to repair your laptop monitor, so you weren’t exactly in a position to be picky. 

You had also been complaining to him for the past forty minutes -- about the broken laptop, the leaking faucet in your apartment, the textbook that cost you more than your groceries for the past month, the two hours of sleep you got last night, and your paychecks that were all but depleted once the bills were paid. He remained tightlipped throughout your whole tirade, so you suppose the least you could do was hear him out. 

“You’re not trying to sell my kidneys, right…” You mumble sarcastically, but you tilt your head to him anyway to show you were listening.

“No, sadly, it’s not quite the season for kidneys yet,” Akaashi delivers in a flat tone, “So you’re just going to have to deal with modeling.”

“Modeling?” Your reaction was harsh and loud, and you flinched away from the piercing glares of cafe regulars trying to study in peace. 

Akaashi smirks as he wipes down the steamer before replying, “Don’t worry, it’s not the kind of modeling you’re thinking.”

Your mouth dropped, and you raised an eyebrow as you crossed your arms, scoffing at Akaashi incredulously. 

“Are you trying to send me to a nudie shoot?!” you whisper in almost-mock offense, but now a part of you was a little worried that your favorite coworker was a secret pervert.

To your utter relief, Akaashi just laughs. “God, no. Well, I guess, kind of?”

At this point, your head was beginning to spin. “What do you mean kind of? Just spit it out already, Akaashi.”

Akaashi finally finishes cleaning off the coffee machine just as you finished replenishing the pastry displays, and in an unusual lull in customers, he’s able to lean against the bar and give you his undivided attention.

“My art professor pays the models for her figure drawing class a pretty decent amount of money, I think,” Akaashi tells you, and your eyes begin to sparkle. “She mentioned a couple of slots being open.”

“Really?” your interest was immediately piqued, “How much money?”

Akaashi shrugs. “Enough to strike at least one problem off your list, probably.”

That was all you needed to hear. Akaashi had given you his professor’s contact information, and you sent her an email the second you had clocked out of your shift. 

Professor Nobuta was a kind woman who emailed you back with such haste, you could feel her desperation matching yours. She was candid during the entirety of your exchange, saying that her usual model had dropped out last minute and there was a spot in her class tomorrow that she needed to fill as soon as possible. Lucky for both of you, you were actually available, and details were exchanged swiftly. 

As you read over the requirements, your eyes roved over two words in a section of the email that made your eyes bulge out of your head. 

Semi Nude. 

You blinked once. Then twice. 

You had already formulated a kind rejection in your mind, ready to type your response when another section caught your eye. You inwardly groaned, dropping your head into your hands. 

She was offering you almost as much as two shifts at the cafe. 

That, alone, was enough to convince you, but the look of relief on Professor Nobuta’s face when you walked through the doors of her classroom was confirmation you made the right decision.

The seats around the classroom were nearly all filled, some students preparing their materials across their desks, and others sitting back and scrolling through their phones. The whirring of the A/C had filled the room with white noise, and you take notice of the two empty stools in the middle of the room.

“Thank you so much for signing up, L/N-san,” Professor Nobuta bowed profusely, and she gestured to a table for you to leave your things. “We’re still waiting on the other model, so take your time, and have a seat on the stool when you’re ready.”

You nodded in acknowledgement, and Professor Nobuta makes her way back to her desk. You briefly wonder if she was going to point you in the direction of a changing room, but realized the redundancy when everyone in the room was meant to stare at your half naked body anyway. 

You begrudgingly peeled off your clothes, folding them neatly before placing them in a pile on the table. Your footsteps made hardly any noise as you walked across the room, desperately trying hard to act nonchalant. 

Just as you took a seat in one of the empty stools, you heard someone pull the door open and loudly clamber inside.

“Ahh, welcome back, Bokuto-san!”

Your eyes widened at the name the professer had just yelled across the room. You brace yourself as you quickly whip your head around, and standing by the door sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck was Bokuto Kotaro. 

Student Athlete, Volleyball Star, Most Wanted Bachelor Bokuto Kotaro smiled brightly as he skipped to the table your items were placed, apologizing profusely for being late. All eyes followed him like moths, and Bokuto was the bright flame. Everyone knew him, and you often saw him walking across the quad, always greeting at least twenty people on the way. 

You could hardly hear what Professor Nobuta was saying to him, and you were now unabashedly staring as Bokuto began to strip out of his clothes. 

Bokuto was built like a marble statue -- hard lines that traveled across his chest and traced his abs must have been painstakingly carved with the utmost care by a masterful artist, and every movement he made created new shapes along his muscled body. You found yourself instantly wishing you had even an ounce of artistic talent, because it was no doubt that Bokuto was every figure artists’ dream. 

All at once, your vision was filled with gold and a sweet smile, and too late did you realize you had just been caught staring. Bokuto’s eyes don’t leave yours as he stands up straight, and struts over to you in nothing but a pair of nude briefs. 

“Alright, everyone, your timed session is about to begin,” Professor Nobuta’s voice had startled you nearly out of your seat, and you turn your head back to face the class, cringing inwardly when you noticed some were smirking at you, “Feel free to request poses from the models, as this will be a graded assignment. We only have an hour and a half, so make the most out of your time.”

You feel your body stiffen as Bokuto takes the empty seat next to you, staying silent when you feel his eyes staring at you. You might have been able to ignore this in another setting, but at the moment, about fifty students were watching him watching you -- eyes flitting up the stage down to their sketchbook as they try to decide where to begin. 

Envy coursed through you as the room began to fill with the sounds of graphite scratching against paper, wishing you could switch positions with literally anybody else in the room. You tried to relax your body against the stool, awkwardly attempting to find a natural position for your arms when you were interrupted by a throat clearing. 

Your head turns to the side, heat rushing to your face when you see Bokuto smiling at you.

“Hi,” he greets, his voice a direct contrast against the silent concentration filling the room, “I’m Bokuto!”

His knees were bent as he settled his feet on the first ring of the stool. He rests an elbow on his thigh so he can place his chin on the palm of his hand, giving you an expectant look as he waits for your response. You try to avoid the way his chest seemed to bulge even more in this position, but the furious sound of sketching says you weren’t the only one to notice.

“Bokuto Kotaro,” you say his name back, and he pulls his lips back into an even wider smile, “I know.”

You bite your lip when a student from the back requested for you to cross your legs, resting your hand against your thighs. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to be talking, but Professor Nobuta didn't seem to be paying either of you any mind. 

He hadn’t said anything to you after that, but the grin remained on his lips as requests begin coming in from students across the class.

They were all fairly simple -- please position your hand like so, could you extend your leg this way, or turn your head that way. The first twenty minutes had been spent doing individual tasks and repositioning, and soon you felt yourself relaxing into your role. Your previous jitters had all but dissolved, and you figured if the rest of the session were to go on like this, then you’d be golden. 

Your eyes shift over to Bokuto, who was leaning back with such easy grace, balancing himself with his foot against the footrest. The way his body created such naturally eloquent lines made it seem as if he was born to be a sculpture, to be admired and gazed at, to invoke inspiration and creation. You weren’t sure anyone in this room was even looking at you anymore, with Bokuto acting as if he was the lighthouse in a storm, beckoning all of you to come home. 

He turns his head a second too quickly, winking when his eyes meet yours, and for the second time in less than an hour, you realize you’ve just been caught checking him out. 

Your dignity was slipping through your fingers like sand, and you clear your throat before turning your attention to a poster on the wall.

From the corner of your eye, you see Professor Nobuta stand from her desk and making her way to a student in the corner. The two whisper among each other, and you watched as the professor consults with other students before nodding her head and turning to the both of you. 

“I received a sort of direction from a few students,” she began, beckoning for the both of you to stand, “They were hoping you could do some more intimate poses.” 

You balked, nearly choking on the air in our lungs. “I-intimate?”

Professor Nobuto nodded her head enthusiastically, and you exchanged a look with Bokuto. 

“Whatever you’re comfortable with — an embrace, hand holding, hands on each other’s face — get creative with it!” 

And with that, the professor sits back down on her desk and begins flipping through her phone, and the two of you are left to brace the expectant looks of the art students staring up at you. 

“This your first time?” Bokuto asks you gently, a sort of sympathetic look on his face as his eyes study your stiff posture. 

“Yeah,” you admit, and he coaxes you towards him with an outstretched hand. You hesitantly place your fingers in his palm, and for a moment, he just stood there. It took a minute for the sounds of rapid sketching to register in your brain, and you realize he’s allowing the class to take note of this pose. 

He’s standing directly across from you now, and you can feel his gaze burning trails across your body as he regards you from head to toe. You feel like an ant burning under the beam of a microscope, and you nearly burst into flames when he chuckles. 

“Nice peach,” Bokuto comments, and you nearly recoil back in surprise. The last thing you had expected from Bokuto was a comment like that, but then you notice his eyes flick back down to your underwear. 

The professor’s email hadn’t included too many rules or requirements. She only included the most important details, such as time, place, pay, dress code, and such. Stated in the dress code, you were allowed to wear undergarments of any neutral color. Today, you had chosen a simple pair of black underwear and figured it was the safest choice.

You hadn’t, however, noticed the large cartoon peach that had gracefully adorned the back of it, complete with a cartoon face that winked sparkles. Now that you were forced to stand, and the entire class got a good view for themselves. 

“Thanks,” you deadpan through gritted teeth, “It’s pretty juicy if you asked me.” 

Bokuto fails miserably to hide a smirk, but his eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you. 

A few minutes (or eternity) later, his hand closes around yours, pulling it up to place against his cheek. He pulls you in by the other wrist, wrapping your arm around his waist as he cups the side of your neck. His other arm wraps almost completely around your middle, and he pulls you flush against his chest. 

His body was hard against yours, and you had no doubts he could feel your heart’s hundreds of beats per second. He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn’t notice the sheen of sweat beginning to collect on your upper lip. 

A fire was bound to be started with how quickly everyone around began to move their pencils, and you heart races when Bokuto absentmindedly draws circles on your skin with his thumb. 

He holds you in this embrace for much longer than you anticipated, and the butterflies in your stomach were making you nauseous. His eyes are trained on your face now, the intensity of his stare making you want to shrink back, but you hold your place and return his gaze. 

His eyes narrow and squint, eyebrows wiggling as his face scrunches up in thought. 

“Do I know you?” Bokuto asks, and it was in this moment where you felt your stomach flip flop into the abyss. It was the one question you had hoped he wouldn’t think to ask you. 

Because you did know Bokuto Kotaro, but not in the way everyone else on campus knew him. 

You remember clearly the slow, dreary Wednesday morning when Akaashi Keiji asks you the same thing. 

“Uh, yeah? Of course, you know me, we’re coworkers,” you replied sarcastically, and Akaashi insists it was more than that. 

“You’re hiding something from me,” he simply states, and you inwardly thanked the customer that had walked and interrupted that moment.

But you should have known that Akaashi was not one to let things go, and after being berated the entire shift about how secrets don’t keep friends, you finally confessed.

You were a student at Fukurodani. 

Akaashi didn’t believe you. There was no way, how was that possible? He would have recognized you. But you were the year above him, and had actively avoided school sports. Because as much as you would have liked to watch your school’s Nationally Ranked Volleyball Club play and compete with super hot athletes from across the country, there was one glaring reason why you couldn’t. 

You had confessed to Bokuto Kotaro in your first year. 

And you were soundly, and absolutely rejected. 

He had every right to, of course. You were just his classmate, you didn’t even know each other that well, and he needed to focus all his attention on volleyball. It made sense.You know that now.

But to your young heart, it was world ending, soul crushing even, and it took you two years to get over your ridiculous one-sided crush. 

Now here you were, standing in front of a group of people in nothing but your underwear, with Bokuto staring at you like a fly caught in a trap.

“No, I don’t think so,” you respond, and Bokuto scoffs. 

“You’re a bad liar,” he whispers, and you find yourself grinning. 

“How would you know?” You whisper back, “You just met me.” 

“No, I definitely know you —“ 

“Alright, everyone,” Professor Nobuto announces with a smack on her desk, “That about does it for today’s session. Give some thanks to your models!”

You jump back from Bokuto as the class offers a light round of applause. The two of you bow back, and you rush over to the table as the professor approaches Bokuto. 

You leave the two of them to chat as you hurriedly put your clothes back on, hoisting your bag up on your shoulder, and nearly falling over putting your shoes on.

“Thank you for today,” Professor Nobuto sneaks up from behind, a smile on her face as she hands you a blank white envelope, “I hope I see your name on the sign up sheet again.”

You offer her a grin as you accept the envelope. “Thank you for the opportunity!”

And with that, you rush out of the stuffy room and make a bee line towards the door. 

“Hey, Peaches!” Bokuto’s voice makes you freeze from across the room, and you turn around to see him adorned only his pants. “You never told me your name?” 

With a smirk, you put your hand on the handle, walking out the door as you yelled over your shoulder. 

“I thought you said you knew me!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That was a trap, wasn’t it,” you accuse Akaashi as soon as you see him again, walking into your shift at the café just as he was about to clock out. 

His smile was almost evil, punching out as he gathers his jacket. 

“Whatever could you possibly mean, dear coworker,” he replies, and you smack him on the shoulder. 

“You had to have known Bokuto was doing that,” you seethe, glaring at Akaashi, “And you knew about… about… you’re dangerous, Akaashi Keiji.” 

He laughs, waving you off, “You said you needed help, so I offered help.”

“Oh, you conniving little —“ 

“Akaashi, you ready?” A familiar voice cuts you, making your head twist towards the door. 

A set of white and black streaked hair, a devilish grin, bright twinkling eyes — your nightmare in human form walking in. 

His eyes widen as they meet yours from across the room, and he waves a hand in the air as if you could have possibly missed the six foot three volleyball player barely fitting through the door frame.

“Hey, Peaches!” He greets cheerfully, walking and leaning against the counter, “Fancy running into you here.”

“Peaches?” Akaashi asks, and your eyes shoot him a nasty glare. 

“I work here,” you reply, and Bokuto’s eyes widen. 

“Akaashi, why wouldn’t you tell me you have such a cutie for a coworker?!” He demands of his best friend, who simply rolls his eyes and heads out the door. 

“Let’s go, Bokuto-san!”

“Akaashi! Hey, wait,” Bokuto runs one step to the door but stops and turns back, “If I come back tomorrow, you gonna tell me your name then?” 

You laugh. “I don’t work tomorrow.” 

“I’ll ask Akaashi for your schedule then!” He screams as he runs out the door. 

The smile on your face stayed on for the rest of your shift. 

[symwinter]

HBIC Marinette – Chapter Two

Taglist: @ladybug-182 | @our-preciousss | @woe-is-me0 | @vroomtaka | @lady-bee-fechin | @ramos123 | @itsmeevie01 | @chaoticstarworld | @vixen-uchiha | @seraphichana | @pleaseignorejustheretoread | @basenikon | @bread-loving-mess | @walkingthroughonautopilot |

Sorry it took so long for the next chapter. If I stop writing I have to go back and read what was there and it just reads so badly to me so I have to start over. To make up for it, I tried to make this chapter extra long, but I don’t know if it came across that way.

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Hell hath no fury like Marinette scorned. On the outside she appeared calm, almost peaceful, but on the inside she was plotting. She doubted the class would take the fallout quietly so she needed to be prepared. The bell on the door jingled as she stepped inside. Her maman perked up hearing the bell. “Marinette! How was school today?” “Eventful,” she replied, “can I talk to you and papa about something? It’s important.” “Of course,” Sabine replied, “please flip the sigh to closed will you?” Marinette nodded and flipped the sign, locking the door for good measure. From there she was ushered upstairs.

“So what do you need to talk to us about? Did you find your sketchbook?” Sabine inquired, her hands folded gently on her lap. “You remember Lila right? The girl who falsified my expulsion?” “She’s the one with the lying disease right?” Tom replied. Marinette forced herself to not roll her eyes. Lila literally said she had a lying disease and was still believed. “Yes and yes. Lila was the one who took it and tore it apart,” Marinette pulled the broken sketchbook from her backpack. Sabine gasped. Tom rubbed her shoulder. “Most of my class did as well. Except for Adrien, Chloé, Sabrina, and Nathanael.” Sabine frowned. “Was it your commission book?” “No, thankfully. That one’s still here. This one was just doodles.” Marinette put the sketchbook down on the table. “But I refuse to leave this unpunished. I just thought I’d let you know.” Tom grimaced but object. “Normally I would be against this,” Tom said, “but if you think it’s necessary then you have my support.” Sabine nodded in agreement. “Is there anything we can do to help?” “Outside of Chloé, Adrien, Sabrina, and Nathanael I don’t know who helped tear it apart and who tried to take it away so it wouldn’t get damaged,” Marinette began, “so until then could you refuse to serve anyone from my class that isn’t those three? Or at least not give them a discount? Or let them see me?” Not that anyone but Nathanael would visit from that small group. “Of course Marinette,” Sabine said, “we’re your parents. It’s our job to be there for you.” Marinette didn’t comment about how they believed Lila when she was expelled and instead shot herself into her parents arms, pulling them into a hug. “I’m going to go salvage what I can from this.” She said, picking up the sketchbook. “Let me know if anyone stops by.”

It took longer than Adrien would like to admit to pick out which sketchbook to buy for Marinette. This was the third shop he went to. “Oh for the love of god Adrikins will you just pick a sketchbook already?” Chloé snapped from beside him. Adrien staggered slightly before looking at her. “It’s not just a replacement but an apology.” He replied. “It needs to be perfect.” “There’s only so long before you father comes a calling and then you can’t give her the sketchbook at all.” She retorted, crossing her arms. Sabrina appeared next to the two blondes holding a 12 by 9 inch sketchbook. Adrien took it from her hands and inspected it. The cover was rather bland, only being a dull dark brown, but the quality of the paper was rather nice. It looked like something his father would use. He didn’t know Sabrina as well as he did Chloé but she clearly had an eye for these things. He supposed being friends with Chloé helped in that regard. “I also considered the idea of getting flowers for Marinette,” Sabrina added, “maybe they’ll act as a nice icebreaker before giving her the sketchbook.” “Sabrina, when you get married I will happily pay for the wedding.” Adrien said. Sabrina smiled. “I’ll hold it to you.” “Great we have a sketchbook can we go already?” Chloé hissed, clearly annoyed. “Yes Chlo, we can go pay and head out.” Adrien paid for the expensive sketchbook before hopping into a flower shop nearby, much to the chagrin of Chloé. One bouquet later and they was off to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

“Welcome! How can I-” Sabine paused looking at the odd trio in front of her. Adrien, Chloé, and Sabrina, only two of which had ever been over. “We’re here to see Marinette.” Adrien replied, giving an awkward smile. If Sabine did know about the sketchbook, it’s possible she wouldn’t let them visit. Chloé and Sabrina’s less than perfect history with Marinette certainly wouldn’t help. “Of course, you remember how to get inside don’t you Adrien?” He nodded and slipped past the confused Sabine. Tom was equally as confused. “You’re here to see Marinette?” “Yep.” Adrien replied, popping the ‘p.’ “Feel free to grab something then, you’re practically skin and bones.” “Model diet,” Chloé retorted, as Adrien slipped the sketchbook under his arm. Marinette’s parents made the best baked goods. The trio moved efficiently through the house before sending Sabrina to knock on the trap door. A simple ‘who is it?’ rang from above. Sabrina pushed the trap door open. “Adrien and Chloé are also here.” Marinette ushered the three up. Adrien practically shoved the flowers in front of her. “Are these-” Marinette began. “Flowers? Yeah. Sabrina suggest I get some along with this,” he held the sketchbook out. Marinette placed the bouquet on her desk before delicately taking the sketchbook from him. She inspected it but found no price tag. “I heard the class damaged your sketchbook so I found it right to get you a new one.” “I can’t this accept, ugh I mean, I can’t accept this.” “Yes you can. You deserve nice things Marinette.” “Adrikins practically dragged me around Paris to find you that sketchbook. Take it.” Chloé said, inspecting her nails. “Ignore her,” Adrien replied, “it was my fault that you’re sketchbook got torn in the first place. I didn’t know how awful Lila could be.” “But you didn’t. I didn’t tell you that she threatened me-” Adrien, Sabrina, and Chloé’s heads whipped to look at her. “She threatened you?” Adrien’s voice was cold. It almost reminded her of M. Agreste’s during the brief time he heard it. “When exactly did she threaten you?” “When she first got back. In the bathroom. And she kind of did when I got briefly expelled.” “Well then it was definitely the wrong advice. I thought she was just lying for attention, not threatening you. That’s serious. I would’ve never made that deal if I knew how awful she was. I could’ve, I should’ve-” “Wait deal?” This time Sabrina spoke up. “The reason Lila works for Gabriel is because I made a deal to get her to lie Marinette back into class. I swore I told her to leave you alone to. It’s all my fau—why are you crying??!!”

And lo and behold, large tears dripped down Marinette’s cheeks, which she wiped away. “You did that for me?” “Of course, you’re my friend.” Adrien replied, pulling her into a hug. “And that’s what friend do right?” “Okay great, dirty laundry has been aired or whatever but can we get to the point people?” Chloé sniped. “What’s the point?” Marinette asked, stepping out of the hug, albeit reluctantly. “When you go maul the class to death, leave Sabrina, Adrikins, and I out of it. We’re not friends, but even I know not to ruin your stuff.” Marinette put the sketchbook down. “I will but I get to slap you with no consequences.” “You’ve got to be joking.” “You made my life hell and that’s getting off easy for the amount of crap you put me though.” “How about instead, I cover whatever expensive fancy fabrics you can’t buy for the next two months. I’d have to explain the smack to daddy after all” “Hm, make it four months.” Marinette replied. “Three.” “Deal.” Chloé turned on her heel. “Sabrina, let’s go.” The redhead followed but paused to wave goodbye. “I guess that’s my cue to leave as well.” Adrien replied. “And again, I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner.” “You didn’t know. But you’ll stand up for me now right? When Lila opens her mouth to spew more lies?” “Of course Mari. I’ll be your alibi until the foreseeable future.” He pulled Marinette into a hug again, and impulsively kissed her cheek before leaving the building. It wasn’t until he was standing on the street, phone in hand to call the Gorilla did he realize what he had done.

“Oh god.”

[in-tua-deep]

Are you into my hero academia? What about an AU or crossover with tua?

UHHHH I am technically, like, peripherally? I watched some seasons of the show like two or three years ago and since then have simply absorbed all content through osmosis, reading fanfiction that has canon events, and my sister telling me about the arcs of her fav characters lmao

so a crossover hmmm

First of all you'd have to like, establish whether bnha is an alternate universe or just The Future If No Apocalypse with quirks being traced back to the descendants of the kids born without mothers

So let's say it's that - the glowing baby was the "first quirk" but the truth is people had powers before that. But - well, the Umbrella Academy was obviously a marketing gimmick to those in the future! There were even comics based on them

In the future, you might find some of those comics in museum exhibits dedicated to depictions of powers in the pre-quirk era, but they're just fun depictions and much less popular than, oh, DC or MCU comics which are also in the exhibits!

End of s2 doesn't happen I guess in this au?? No sparrow academy at least lmao. So, the Umbrella Academy stop the apocalypse (again) and the Commission threat is? Neutralized? Whatever. They decide to jump back to the future

Five warns them that time travel is a crapshoot, that he has no fucking idea when they'll land beyond some nebulous "future" because Five can at least control the direction if not exactly how long

Also, Five is like. Super tired. Incredibly tired. Homeboy still has a healing gut wound, time traveled twice, has been jumping all over the place, gotten even more injured, experienced paradox psychosis, and managed to undo time all in the space of like, two weeks. There actually more than that but we don't have time to get into how fucking tired Five is from his ~Month of Hell

Like genuinely this is like putting someone almost delirious from lack of sleep in the driver's seat of a car and expecting to get to your destination in one piece

But hey, the siblings are like "do it uwu" and Five has sacrificed everything for them already so why not get behind the wheel again

So Five jumps them, and of course something goes wrong because Five has pushed his powers like a great big rubber band and honestly it was only a matter of time before he lost his grip and it snapped back to hit him

So here be the umbrella academy: spilled out into the future like a cup of bad coffee.

Five probably isn't in too good of shape tbh, like they're hundreds of years in the future (but hey at least confirmation of no apocalypse am I right) in a world full of superpowers and Five is like. bleeding from his ears and nose probably idk

Let's handwave a little bit - Reginald made them all polyglots so the squad all speak varying levels of Japanese. Allison is the best at it, Five is second best but tends to use more archaic words bc he had missions in Japan back when he was with the commission, and Klaus is third best.

(Ben is the worst bc he decided when he was 16-and-dead that he didn't have to do anything regarding lessons and maintenance and hasn't given a shit since - but also he's dead so)

So you have a bunch of weird adults with a bleeding child in like, an alley who have appeared from nowhere

so of course heroes get involved

Anyway, the squad get taken in and Five is conscious but like, barely? And he's not going to let himself get separated from his siblings again fuck-you-officer and there is a lot of confusion

anyway detective tsukauchi ends up getting involved and ends up having to hear this batshit story and be like "...truth." which sends all kinds of people scrambling because fucking time travel? Like yeah, it's been theorized to be a possible quirk but there's no recorded cases of any sort of time travel that is for more than 24 hours let alone hundreds of years

"I'm an adult." Five says sourly, "I just happened to be returned to my 13 year old body when I time traveled one time."

"True." Tsukauchi says, feeling his soul leave his body, but like. absently. the way he does when he's called in at 2am after getting off of work at midnight.

"I'm 58." Five says.

"Lie." Tsukauchi says, because this is a headcanon hill I will die on.

"I'm probably 58, but it was hard to keep track. I'm at least 50." Five corrects.

"True." Tsukauchi sighs like these six (seven? they keep referring to another sibling and Klaus said 'ghost' like that was fine and it registered as true and Tsukauchi is not nearly paid enough for this) are not giving him a migraine by just existing

on the bright side there's like, probably protocols in place for individuals who are Legally Chronologically Adults but thanks to quirks are Not Physically Or Not Mentally Adults with tests to determine if the individual needs a guardian or not

though i'm gonna be honest idk if Five would pass the test bc he literally cannot take care of himself at all, has never paid taxes or understands how to exist legally, and also his emotional maturity is stunted as all hell. also like. we don't actually know how much being in his thirteen-year-old body affects his mental state but yeAH Five is vibing

anyway Tsukauchi probably phones a friend on this bullshit because Time Travel Child alone is probably enough for the Hero Commission to be like "find a way to control and use it or nuke it from orbit" and that's not even touching whatever the fuck Klaus is doing (shit gets real once 'dead men tell no tales' stops being true) let ALONE Allison's whole deal

on the bright side like, at least Vanya isn't getting side-eyed that much bc Big Destructive Quirks aren't exactly unknown? if vanya wanted to i guess quirk suppressors exist for that until extensive training on how to control a super powerful quirk happens

Tsukauchi in the group chat: Aizawa please I am literally begging you to take this bullshit on

Aizawa: in this economy? with my class?

RatGod: lol we'll take them ;3c

Aizawa: no

Anyway they probably end up having to live at UA while Five insists on trying to get them home still and everyone else is like "oh hey we used to be child soldiers as well! (:" and Aizawa is like "i hate everything about this and everything about all of you but also like nedzu is making me interact with you so :/"

nedzu is out here vibing like "lol i just don't want the hero commission to get their little paws on these time traveling fuckers, i think you should make then teaching assistants or something"

honestly the siblings are probably like. figuring out how to function in the bnha universe and getting like, legally registered and stuff while Five ferally refuses bc that's like saying he's giving up on getting them home and he can do this

Recovery girl tries to heal him a little when he arrives and he passes out for two weeks like, immediately bc homeboy is running on fumes and spite at this point

also i think on principle it would be REALLY FUNNY if the squad got to tag along with the class bc like. Five is thirteen and the class are all 15. this does not sound like a large age gap. anyone who has interacted with teenagers know that the class would squint at Five and be like "who is this sassy lost middle schooler."

I feel like when I was a sophomore we were still like "freshman... babie" even though we were literally only one year older.

i think the difference between the umbrella academy and school kids would be pretty funny like. objectively the bnha kids are lowkey child soldiers?? like they're 15 and fighting villains but like, there's all this red tape and laws and stuff but,,, deku still be breaking his limbs in a child fighting ring against equally superpowered children for like. entertainment and sponsorships sooo

but also like Five would be like "oh cool when is the experimentation class"

"the what"

"you know, when your powers are pushed real hard by putting you in different terrible situations while your dad and sibling stand by with clipboards writing down the exact voltage it takes before you can't use your powers anymore when being electrocuted"

"hound dog's office is right there. therapy is available to you at any time. i need you to know this."

all might calls Luther "my boy" like one (1) time and Luther just breaks down crying probably because he is starved for positive attention

klaus and midnight get along like a literal house on fire, aizawa tried his best to keep them apart for as long as possible but god damn

(klaus: your name is shimura nana??

all might: immediately dies choking on blood)

i feel it absolutely necessary to point out that aizawa, present mic, and midnight are all like, 30? and the umbrella academy are all between 29-early 30s? they are PEERS but like. the umbrella academy are more chaotic due to childhood trauma

the umbrella academy probably get offered to like. also train to be heroes. i mean,, there HAS to be some sort of track for people who change careers right?? you don't have to cement your future as a hero when you're 15 i'm sure there must be something and the squad already have experience if they want to go be legal heroes

diego probably does at least?? diego just vibes honestly. diego gets momo to make knives during a team exercise and they just go feral on everyone else and it ends with diego highfiving momo and someone getting way to close to being stabbed for comfort

Five might just be. legally enrolled as an Actual Student? But also i think it's funny to picture the entire squad just. all in the back of the classroom with luther trying to fit into a high school desk as they take notes on the laws of The Future surrounding heroics

every word out of the umbrella academy's mouths just make everyone more concerned on principal but like, five and klaus are probably the worst offenders. Klaus just says whatever comes to mind with no filter and Five doesn't get what people would consider to be abnormal anymore like

Five: yeah our dad bought us when we were babies and experimented on us throughout our childhood in order to make an elite team of child soldiers superheroes, it happens

Todoroki: ...have you heard of quirk marriages?

izuku probably has an aneurism bc he's is the only person who might recognize them from the comics because you know ya boy extensively researched the idea of heroics in pre-quirk eras (batman was an inspiration alright???) and might dredge up a memory of a less popular comic series

Five: I can time travel but it is very hard, which is why we are hundreds of years in the future. And why I look like a child.

Kaminari: so are you a kid or not?

Five, serenely: whatever is most convenient for me at any given moment

Mina: hell yeah game the system

they have a brief lesson on astronomy and Luther raises his hand like "ooh! i was isolated on the moon for four years and did SO MUCH research" and then just gets up and starts infodumping like way too much information on the moon

Izuku sitting there like "damn if quirks hadn't popped up we could have achieved so much in terms of space travel. please tell me more giant man who lived in pre-quirk era."

Vanya finds out about the quirkless and is like "oh mood that genuinely sounds like my childhood, being ordinary in a house full of extraordinary people, and then i found out that i did have powers but only much later in life after i had already been emotionally scarred by the experience"

deku: vanya we have so much in common

iida and uraraka: concerned noises

aizawa: hound dog. therapy with hound dog for all of you.

there's probably some conflict with like, the hero commission wanting to get their hands on the time travelers?? but probably especially five and klaus as a) time travel and b) ghosts (the hc def has bodies they would like to stay buried)

five has a pavlovian reaction to anything with 'commission' in the name and hates them on site, probably plays into his age in order to become a ward of UA or something to protect him from the commission a little bit.

(this makes nedzu Five's legal guardian. aizawa has his resignation papers all prepped in a drawer marked 'in case of emergency' but let's be real, if nedzu wants to take over the world aizawa should probably be on the rat-bear's side of things :/)

five: ah, i do recall the inhumane experimentation that we were subjected to

nedzu, who was experimented on: haha same hat! want me to dig up the location of reginald hargreeves's remains so you can spit on them?

klaus: nah no worries we dumped them out in the courtyard unceremoniously like, a while back. how long ago varies for each of us because of time travel!

luther: you said hound dog's office was down the hall and to the right?

on the bright side, Luther probably feels like. way less self conscious about his body, partially bc of his fighting and all that in the 60s but also bc !! now he genuinely doesn't feel like a freak. no one even gives him a second glance. one of the teachers looks like a slab of cement with a face. gang orca looks Like That. there is literally a student with an entire bird head and goth aesthetic. Luther does not stick out at all

allison and shinso bond over having "villainous" voice-based quirks

allison and shinso having worn muzzles at some point in their youth as punishment 🤝

aizawa probably helps train vanya as well with the whole, being able to erase a world ending quirk safely thing he's got going on which makes for a very nice safety net

i don't think vanya would want to be a hero at the end of things though. maybe the assistant teacher in the music class or something?? all vanya wants is to be able to not end the world

i feel like as time goes by, five brings up trying to get home less and less. part of that is because like,,, genuinely what do they have to go back to?? Allison has Claire, but like. I'm 100% sure the first thing she did in the future was try track down Claire's records and found out Claire was like. fine. became an adult, had a family, probably became the ancestor of the first "quirked" kids who officially popped up after light baby. had a good life, died at an old age etc. etc.

they start settling into the bnha world with like, "we can always hop aboard the five express into where the fuck ever" as a plan Z if things go completely pear shaped (again)

i'mma be real, five himself doesn't give a fuck as long as there is a) no apocalypse and b) his family is alive. Like that's it. His bar is so incredibly low and yet his life keeps fucking trying to limbo under it

i just think it would be funny to have like, Five trying to get along with his "peers" and make friends while the siblings do the same but like, in the staff room

also think it would be funny for five to just walk into the staff room and get coffee occasionally.

a teacher: why is a student in here -

Five, sipping coffee: i'm an adult

nedzu like "what kind of guardian would i be if i didn't teach my new son all the tunnels around ua so he can pop out wherever"

five like "hey new dad can i put stashes of supplies all around ua of weapons, money, food, and other assorted things that might be useful if one needed to fight or make a run for it" and nedzu is like "haha just put your list of what supplies you want in your go bags on my desk and i'll critique it later!"

anyway a bnha/tua crossover would be incredibly chaotic but probably very funny

[bakugohoex]

Ok ok hear me out: a sleepover with the class 1A girls and the fem reader, they all let loose eating, doing face masks, dancing in their tiny pjs or whatever and the boys hear about it and go spy on the girls. Bakugou goes because he’s curious to see what the reader is like when they’re not in school (as she seems mom friend ™️) turns out she’s like a big goofball and a dancing queen and Bakugou gets all blushy after realizing he has a fat crush on her. The guys get caught obviously 😂 ty sm!!💕

“she’s doing what?”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: language, kissing, fluff

word count: 1500+

a/n: umm hi, this is a request and i’m done for tonight i need to get on the grind again with revising so hopefully i’ll go back to posting once a day but i thought new year a little treat

summary:  in which you’re seen as the mom of class 1a, the boys got to spy on the girls sleepover and what they didn’t expect was you to confess your crush but also for you to have hidden talents that makes bakugo realise he needs to have you 

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

If you don’t think you have these boys in the palm of your hand then you’re lying to yourself.

They’re either scared of you telling them off or fearful of disappointing you.

Even Bakugo will refrain from his usual angry self around you,

It’s probably more due to his infatuation with you though.

This boy just wants to know what makes you tick.

How someone like you has the ability to be so caring to the class that even Mineta stops being a perv when you’re around.

He says he doesn’t care.

He does care.

This man just wants to know if you ever act like a normal teenager.

You literally worry about everything with the class.

Making sure Denki doesn’t overcharge himself and become well dumb.

Making sure Ururaka doesn’t use her quirk too much to make her puke.

Even making sure Deku’s injuries arent as bad as they really are.

This man follows the rest of the boys to the girls sleepover and is in shock.

Utter shock at the sights of you doing the Tiktok dance Mina had been begging you to do.

The facemasks and music played in the common area on the bottom floor, the tight shirts and shorts on all the girls. You all had been playing truth or dare with masks you and Mina had bought hours prior. Ready to peel off the masks and toss them in the bin hopefully feeling refreshed and rehydrated. The Saturday night sleepover had been a sacred ritual for months now, the boys being banned from even daring to step one-foot downstairs.

“Truth or dare, Y/n.” Ururaka giggled with the tea that Momo had made in her grasp.

You thought looking around the group, “truth.”

The boys had finally got the nerve to come crawling down. They hid in the kitchen listening in, Mineta being locked in his room due to him being well a pervert. Even Bakugo stood alongside the group of his own free will, they were all listening in, watching how you were waiting for the truth question.

His eyes perked upwards listening into round faces question, he didn’t care about the rest of the girls. He just wanted to see how you were outside the comfort of class and school, of course he had seen you in your less worrying state but this, your shorts shorter than normal. Your shirt peaking upwards towards your stomach, he waited and waited until the words dripped from round faces mouth.

“Out of all the boys in the class who would you date?” It was unexpected and he hoped he said you, it was a wish, knowing how close you were with Todoroki and Midoriya he didn’t expects his name to ever come from a question like that.

He watched you think, your eyes looked tired but still happy before you confessed, “100% Bakugo.”

“Y/n I cant believe you’re actually into the angry Pomeranian.” Momo spoke up.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, like he’s not that angry with me and he’s just I don’t know, I think he’d be an amazing boyfriend.” You confessed the truth, knowing Bakugo would never found out so you didn’t care, “also he’s so fucking attractive.”

They laugh as the truth and dare continued, the boys had looked at Bakugo, his face beet red and his eyes were a lot softer. “She…she likes me.” He whispers.

“Now you can ask her out.” Kirishima nudged him with his shark teeth grinned.

“Shut it.” He muttered allowed not to anyone in particular. You liked him, you saw more past the anger and thought he’d be a good boyfriend. Hell you ever called him attractive, it fuelled his ego and he wanted to see even more.

The boys continued to listen in, “this was a waste of time.” Tokoyami muttered having been dragged here. He left with some others, Bakugo hadn’t noticed but Midoriya stayed talking to Todoroki and Sero and Kirishima and Denki paid attention to the girls so Bakugo wouldn’t feel self-conscious about staying to here you speak. Well Denki mostly stayed thinking that a pillow fight would occur soon enough.

“Y/n, let’s make the Tiktok dance.” She gestured; this perked Bakugo’s ears but he was unable to move. You weren’t going to dance; you were too pristine and clean to dance to a Tiktok song.

“Woah Y/n’s a fucking good dancer.”

“She’s doing what?” He listened to the sound of oops! By yung gravy, it had been playing in Mina’s phone for the past week and Bakugo had gotten sick of it.

But clearly you had learnt the dance as you did it with ease with Mina, you both did the dance with a swing in your step, he watched in awe at how your body moved. Heavily attracted to you and enticed by your movement. He continued to stare, moving his body to lean against the wall in view of the girls as he watched you. He needed you, he craved you and most of all he didn’t care who knew about their spying at all. 

“Agh.” Hagakure belched out, making you all stop. You noticed Bakugo’s eyes skim you up and down.

You looked at how the other boys fell out of the kitchen, silence occurred but Bakugo stayed leaning against the wall eyes directly facing you. “How long were you guys there?” You ask, “tell me.”

“Long enough.” Sero spoke to ease the tension.

You heard the noise of stomping down the corridor seeing an agitated Iida, “I told you all there would be consequences if you followed Kaminari.” The blame had shifted to the boy who jolted out of there Jirio and Tsu chasing after him.

Momo, Mina, Hagakure and Ururaka looked between you and Bakugo all knowing he had heard the words that had supposed to have been private. “Let’s go.” Kirishima muttered making the boys leave except Bakugo, the girls looked before collecting there things and scurrying away themselves.

Mina mouthed a sorry before you moved towards your discarded hoodie about to put it on, “leave it.”

It was a command rather than a suggestion and you obliged, tossing it with your things. Before sitting on the sofa, he sat beside you in silence, you looked down not wanting to meet his gaze, “Iida was right, you shouldn’t have been watching us.”

“Really you going to tell me off to avoid the real matter.” He pulled at his hair and action that made your stomach churn with butterflies.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lied.

He laughs cocking his head back before meeting your gaze, “you’re the one who said I’d be an amazing boyfriend and called me fucking attractive.”

“I…” You couldn’t lie he had repeated the words, word for word.

He moved closer grabbing your jaw with his rough hands. “You could’ve just told me.” He spoke making your face move closer to his own. His lips brushing against your neck, his hot breath fanning your exposed skin.

“Bakugo.”

“Katsuki, you already think I’m fucking attractive, so call me Katsuki you brat.” You took in a sharp breath, his hand still on your jaw, your cheeks squished between his fingers. “I saw you do that Tiktok, showing yourself off like that to everybody, only I can see that, not those shitty extras, only me.”

You hummed in agreement feeling intoxicated by his voice waiting for him to continue, “you want to be mine, want to be my fucking girl don’t you.”

His thumb brushed against your lips, a soft moan of a “yes” erupted from your mouth. It was beauty to his ears, he felt you lick your lips brushing his thumb.

“Prove it then.” It was another command, he needed you to beg, needed you to prove that you wanted to be his. “Beg for me.”

He brushed his thumb across your cheek, you closed your eyes, “I want to…to kiss you.” It was torture to say, torture to admit that you craved his touch even more.

“That’s all I wanted to here baby girl.” He let go of your grabbing your waist and bringing you closer to him.  “You’re a lot more than an irritating worrier than I thought.”

“Katsuki.” You pout, “I thought being nice would make people like me.”

“Be yourself idiot.” He spoke.

“O…” Before you could agree his lips smashed onto your own.

He spoke through the kiss as he nibbled on your bottom lip, “shut up.” You nodded wanting to feel his tongue inside of you, teeth banging together. His touch sending shivers down your spine, feeling him kiss you with such passion that drives you crazy.

His lips were exactly how you expected them to be, rough and able to bruise your own. Your lips felt sore, felt bitten and wary. You felt his tongue guide your own, you followed his movement, his hands in your hair pulling you closer.

He let go taking a breath, watching your dazed position on top of his lap. “Fuck, we should ugh…” He didn’t know how to speak your figure on him making his ears perk red.  “…go out or something, I don’t care.”

“I’d love too Katsuki.” You smile, you hadn’t expected his next movement. His arms wrapping around your waist into a hug, the words you had said prior about being an amazing boyfriend. Had shot something inside of him, you believed he would be good at something, and maybe even maybe you believed he would be your amazing boyfriend.

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[deathwishdaydream]

Dear Universe, Up Yours!

Chapter 1

"Now, for the first time, he's seeing that there really is a way out of this, and it's all so simple. You don't have to run away. You just meet somebody special and step sideways into a parallel universe."

-Irvine Welsh, Skagboys

 

 

 

I never found anybody interesting in my life. I've never succumbed to the tedium of this place. I always felt out of place, but that was probably because everyone else was so dead. And I dreaded the realization that I'd stay here forever.

"And then," My mind seemingly brought itself back inside of the desolate, sterile classroom as the science teacher, Mr. Bradford spoke, "The swab would turn into a light pink color because blood contains hemoglobin, which would assist the peroxide in reacting with the hydrogen in phenolphthalein, turning into water. The decreased hydrogen form of phenolphthalein would then make it turn pink, revealing that it is indeed blood. But if it wasn't blood and just looked like it could have been, then no reaction would occur and the swab would stay its natural color."

I literally have no idea what the fuck is going on.

We completed a lesson earlier than expected, so the class decided that, with the remaining time of the period, they wanted to learn something of forensic science. Though actually, it was the teacher who decided, because nobody really reacted when he offered the knowledge. This made me miserably realize how long an hour really is. While this happened, I fiddled with a piece of lead from my mechanical pencil, rubbing it between my fingers to see the shiny gray chaos appear on my fingertips, then breaking it into smaller pieces or crushing them instead of paying attention. The graphite made a horrific, powdery mess on the light brown surface of the glossy wooden table. The teacher, with his small rectangular glasses, always had the worst monotone voice that could get the whole class to drop dead asleep. His hair was mostly gray, flooding all the young, auburn strands, but he wasn't too old. He always wore the same boring polos in different colors every week with pants that have always been the same color every single day. I'd say the students in this class are worse, though. Nobody talks or pays attention. It was fucking stupid. I wish I could just stand up from my seat and leave out the door. Science is my least favorite class out of all of mine. And I hate all of my classes, so that says a lot. It was no exaggeration. It was boring and the students were boring, the teacher was boring. Everything that has anything to do with my school is boring, really. It was all so pathetic.

I heard the cheap bell ringing, and all the students stood up from their chairs in unison, as if they were some fucking cult, and then the teacher, drowned out by all the students speaking, reminded them to do homework and other useless things that they're probably not going to do. I stacked my notebook and papers, putting them in my bag that I had thrown over my shoulder after. Walking out of the classroom with all the students brutally crowding towards the door as if that bell had been a fire alarm instead, I accidentally bumped into my lab partner, Gerard Way, and muttered a quick "sorry" as I got out of the classroom to the hallway. I didn't really know him that well or paid much attention to him at all, being someone who sat next to him since the beginning of the year. Which actually had just been a month. There would be times when he'd try to talk to me about the work but that was pretty much it. He had pale skin, black messy hair, and brown eyes, I believe. He was a regular teenage boy that I had to sit next to in science class and was very quiet and reserved.

[ "I Died Inside"  by Lesley Gore playing]

As I walked into the hallway, it was narrow and cramped, swarmed with roaring, energetic bags of hormones. It was probably a better way to describe "high school students" here; it was a more accurate description, as someone who observes things a lot. I felt myself being viciously pushed around and shoved from every angle, but I kept my head forward, walking straight ahead, as my peripheral vision caught paper airplanes flying across the hallway.

I never interacted with anyone at all. I don't think it was because I was repulsive. Nobody can judge that because nobody had spent a whole day with me in conversation. I never made friends, I didn't want to. It was hard to, anyway. It's not that I was purposefully isolating myself from everybody in the first place, or trying to be different and "mysterious." I'm convinced everyone is either dead or tries too hard to be part of the television clichés that it was useless to really speak to anybody. Maybe being impatient myself was a flaw nobody would want to deal with. So nothing really mattered. I made no effort to make friends with anyone. And it's been like that since freshman year. After all, I'm just another immature, shit seventeen-year-old.

[ "I Died Inside"  muffled]

Soon, as the crowd gradually began to simmer down, I found my locker and exchanged a few things from my backpack for next class. I can't believe that having to go through the crowd of students took most of passing period. It's always been short, anyway. I don't really know why. For being a public school, it's really trying to avoid the high school clichés. We barely had time for anything.

Once I was done, I slammed the locker closed and went off to next period.

[ "I Died Inside"  stops playing]

Nothing important occurred ever at all. It was the same routine, and the only change that happened was the units and lesson topics, changed seatings, and so forth. It wasn't only at school, either. Every day was the fucking same. Everything was fucking boring. Staying home on weekends and after school, doing absolutely nothing, waiting until the scintillating sunlight leaked from the half-closed blinds in my room to fade away to nighttime again. I'd kill to have a life that wasn't this. I felt like a zombie, really, and I think everyone else was too. Just mindlessly bumping into things in front of them because of their diminutive brain. It was like everyone in this town was a walking corpse. I fucking hated it all.

I found my way inside the math classroom and dropped my backpack on the floor beside my chair, sitting down at my desk, my palms on the cold, wooden surface of the table. I heard strewn chattering from the kids all around me and the teacher was just at her large box computer, going to the front of the class afterward.

She told us simply to get out our textbooks and I did so, flipping around random pages until she'd tell us which page we really should have been on. As I nonchalantly flipped through, I saw some indolent sketches and doodles on the sides that I drew from other times.

And even the drawings were fucking boring.

Suddenly, my head popped up briskly from looking down at the book as I heard the sound of the door opening. The door was really old, so it made a squeaky shrill every time it was opened or closed. At the door was the boy from science, my lab partner, Gerard. The class had just gone mute as they all stared at him in extreme disdain. Gerard didn't go to math this period, so that was probably why everyone was acting so strange about him. It was too incongruously strange, in fact, which was another perceptible flaw of this town. He gulped as he noticed all the eyes scornfully watching him and then quickly turned to the teacher, giving her some sort of paper and an orange envelope underneath it.

"From the front office," he said in a raspy voice, crucially tearing the nasty silence. The room was so quiet that if he spoke once more, I'd be hearing an echo. His voice sounded really dry, and I think it was because he hadn't spoken in a long time and never cleared his throat before. This made his tone sound a bit deeper than usual, as it always was a bit more high-pitched. The teacher, Ms. Lewis, held the items and muttered a thanks, the slight sound of paper being rubbed against paper filling the room. Gerard finally cleared his throat and nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. She took out a paper from the envelope, skimmed it, then put it back in, placing it and the other paper that was separate from it, on her desk.

But after he left, a few students started to talk with each other and it got to a point it was deafening until the teacher spoke loudly about, I don't know, the page number and how the boy leaving the classroom wasn't an invitation to start talking again.

Gerard was a peculiar boy. He wasn't interesting though, like how the rest of the people here weren't either. Again, I never thought of anybody as interesting in my life at all. Maybe because I didn't care enough. But he was in fact, peculiar. He stood out from the other kids, well, from my view, and he was tremendously soundless as if he had just been tranquilized. It was like he was in a shell that had a small opening and just a few cracks so that people could properly hear him whenever he merely spoke.

Math ended after an agonizingly lengthy 85 minutes. I'm surprised I'm receiving okay grades because I actually don't do much. I don't really think the teachers here care about their job too much, so they just grade whatever. That's my theory, at least. After this period, it was lunch, and everyone left in a whole scramble by the door, again.

[Verse 1 of  "DemiRep"  by Bikini Kill playing]

I'm not a fan of the school lunch. I never was. Who would be, anyway? It was always so stale and never tasted right. Once I have gone to the cafeteria and retrieved a tray with the deplorable meal on it, I sat at an empty table, observing every other one that was full of people laughing and chatting. I then opened the small carton of chocolate milk and inserted those small straws they would give us. I brought it up to my mouth and sipped it, placing it back on the tray afterward.

I was just about to take a bite out of my sandwich until I jumped, alarmed by the sudden sound of a tray full of school lunch falling flat beside mine. Someone then sat down on the bench next to me. It was Gerard. He faced me.

[ "DemiRep"  muffled]

"Hey," I greeted quietly.

He cleared his throat, and thank god for that. "Hey."

[ "DemiRep"  stops playing]

As I started to eat, he took off his black backpack and put it on the bench next to him, zipping it open and taking out a paper packet. He placed it on the table and slid it in my direction, clearing his throat again to speak. "You dropped this at the end of science," he mumbled.

I put the sandwich back on the tray and idly scanned the snobby paper. My name was on the top in my handwriting, along with some more stupid doodles I did out of boredom. The packet was some kind of introduction to some crappy project.

I wasn't a very rude person, though. At least just when someone approaches me for something simple. "Thanks," I muttered, grabbing my backpack and shoving the packet inside.

I kept eating in complete silence, despite all the surrounding students conversing and laughing with each other, and Gerard was just eating beside me. And I think this allowed me to pay more attention to his appearance. He had thick, wavy dark strands that were nearly black. And to be completely honest, it appeared a bit greasy, but it was his whole style and had fit him very well. It was kind of weird to think further into it. He had a few thin, long bangs that would sometimes go over his face, but not too much. You couldn't really tell which way his hair was parted, maybe a little to the side. It was so messy that it looked neat and natural, if that made any sense. He had soft pale skin, it was probably a pale ivory. There were fainted, small freckles painted around his rounded face, but maybe only if you look close enough. The roundness of his jaw made him look really innocent and sweet. That there was no way he could have committed any sin in his life at all. He was sort of like a baby, but one that loved listening to Carrie Brownstein and Pulp. Well, that was one of the few things I knew about him: having a passionate fondness for Britpop. He possessed hazel irises that would have a greener tint in the light and brown when it's dark. I wasn't really sure how to explain it. His eyelashes were dark and pretty long. They looked nice. He looked like somebody you wanted to be ridiculously careful with because of fragile he appeared. I guess I never really realized how soft he seemed.

"Do you like eating here alone?" he said abruptly, breaking the silence and my train of thought, which made me lightly jump. His voice was delicate too when I thought more about it.

To answer his question, I liked the silence, really. It allowed me to contemplate more instead of being interrupted by someone asking multiple questions like a fucking cop interrogating me. Being lonesome just felt right; I didn't have to deal with any bullshit.

I swallowed the bite of the sandwich I chewed in my mouth and turned my head to look at him. "Yes."

"Can I ask why?" I would be complaining about how nosy he seemed, but I guess that's a way of someone trying to start a conversation. They always ended up in me repelling whoever tried to talk to me, though. But I thought I'd answer his question anyway so it would conceivably lead to that.

"I don't like when other people are around. It gives me a... weird feeling..." I began. There was a short pause. "I hate having to give an effort to either look at a person and tell them to shut the fuck up and leave me alone at lunch. I just want to be alone in peace and eat without any interruptions. A lot of people started to figure that out here, I guess, which is why they don't approach me anymore. I hate when people would just sit there, expecting me to say something to them when I don't want to say anything," I explained concisely as Gerard raised an eyebrow in disarray. "Now..." I began. "Shut the fuck up... and leave me alone..." I paused. "Please?"

[ "I Wonder Why"  by Dion & The Belmonts playing]

I knew he didn't deserve that. I knew I had just acted like a total asshole right now. He didn't even speak enough to be shut up. There was something about always rejecting people who would try to talk to me when I was busy. I would get annoyed easily and angry. But I knew that Gerard didn't deserve that. I guess I never felt guilty about it until he had approached me. It was weird.

He smiled slightly and put his arms down, reaching for his milk carton and opening it. He drank some and put it back on the table, wiping his mouth with his jacket sleeve. "Okay."

He didn't smile in an embarrassed way like how other people would react when I'd tell them that. Instead, it was a smile of amusement. Kind of like he was entertained. Did he want this reaction? Or did he just think it was funny?

He stood up and grabbed his tray, walked to another table far from the one I sat at, and started to eat. As time passed and I ate, I would see him get a glance in my direction. Each time I would take bites out of my sandwich or drink my milk, I'd look up to see Gerard looking at me, and then he'd quickly look back at his lunch tray. I tended to ignore it. I could feel his eyes on me. Maybe he hated me now or thought something else of me. To think about it, I surprisingly did the more talking this time compared to the other times someone would try to talk to me during lunch. They would always talk more and point out how lonely I was. It was pretty weird...

Gerard is interesting... Peculiar, as well as interesting.