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i-jus-wanna-writehappy · 1 year ago

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Abundance

incubus!Gojo Satoru x black!fem!reader

Warnings/Content: 18+ only cursing, praise kink, some spit (not spit play), blowjob, toy usage, joint (that isn’t relevant until part 2), deep throat, cum eating (both), dirty talk, pet names (baby, pretty girl), porn with plot

Author’s Note: well fuck. I got sick as hell and it pushed back all of my kinktober work. I’ll still publish them all, they’ll just be coming out in through November. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2

•••

You gnaw on the skin at the edge of your thumb nail nervously as you look at the shoddy, yet well intentioned miniature hut you’ve built with the help of YouTube, 20 minutes of sleep, and the 4 shots of tequila you guzzled to quell your anxieties after said 20 minutes. If we’re being honest, it doesn’t seem like the kind of offering a deity of abundance would really like, but it’s the best you could do, and you cross your fingers and snap a picture, hoping it’ll be enough.

Not even 5 minutes after sending your photo does your phone ping with Shoko’s personalized ringtone.

It’s kinda plain. Put some flowers or something. Or a money tree… duh

You grumble at the message, but still jump up and throw your feet into two mismatched shoes before sneaking out to your apartment courtyard and ripping some of the flowers from the display out front. Crouched down, you check to see if anyone is around again, the jumbo beads on the ends of your braids clatter and nearly erase any semblance of stealth that you have as you rush back into your apartment, not even breathing until your back is flat against your door.

Looking at your cozy one bedroom with fresh eyes, you notice that not only is your hut plain, but it’s also sitting on your coffee table where no sun can reach it. Taking your thumb back into your mouth, you kick off your fuzzy slide and wedge sandal and get to arranging in a way that will hopefully make Shoko proud.

She’s an expert by zero means at all. She really just sent you the first abundance ritual post that popped up on Pinterest after listening to you freak out about how long you and your colleagues have been striking at the office and what are you going to do with only a side hustle and a half? You’re both as knowledgeable as each other when it comes to summoning anything but a free drink at a club, but only one of you thought to check Pinterest and now maybe the other one is looking for some validation because even if it’s shoddy, she worked really hard and would like to hear that she did good.

So though you send the photo of your hut, now preciously decorated with maybe too many flowers and sitting in the sun with only a “Fuck you, she’s pretty 🥹”, Shoko is quick with her reply, knowing exactly what you’re looking for.

Much better, very pretty. You did a pretty good job honestly.

The praise has a smile growing wide on your face, you did do a pretty good job for your first go at it. You stayed up all night and even added a few symbols (sigils? Fuck if you know) to the bottom for good measure. That kind of dedication deserves a reward, so you decide to take yourself out on a date. These have been a hard few weeks and until the deity, fairy, or whoever does it, you will give yourself an abundance. Of love and care that is.

As you return home an hour or two after the sun has set with two handfuls of bags and leftovers from your lunch with Shoko, you feel satisfied, maybe this was the work of your sweet little hut. “Give back to the universe what it gave to you.” You whisper before places a small wet kiss to the smooth, misshapen roof of what you have now decided to call a cottage, potentially thanks to a few dinner mimosas that were not your idea, but we’re happily consumed.

With your day having been lived and the universe having received your thanks, early or otherwise, you drop your clothing and beauty supply bags beside your couch and set your leftovers on the counter to wait for you until after your shower. You let out a long groan of anticipation as you try to undress without the hands currently pushing your braids into your bonnet.

You’re absolutely right to anticipate your shower. The steaming water is loosening knots in your shoulders you didn’t even notice were there. Just as you go to reach for your body wash and wash rag, a shiver runs down your spine and ends as a warm buzz between your legs. The intensity catches you by surprise, almost making you slip out of your bathtub and wiping away your soft intoxication.

Catching yourself quickly, you push your urges down, you have plans for her already; leftovers, specialty ice cream, a rose-petal wrapped joint, and the cute little rose toy you picked up today. It’s nothing fancy, but you figure that your date should end the right way, and you deserve to be wined and dined before putting yourself to sleep as you throughly plan to. It’s hard, let’s not downplay the severity of this arousal, you’re stalled for nearly two entire minutes, fearing any movement right now ruining your plans, but your brain wins and you’re able to finish your shower with major discomfort, but no worries.

Out of your shower and donned in your favorite panties and flirty nightgown, you begin to set up your bedroom for your eventful night, lighting candles and putting your comfort show on the television all of your friends hate that you keep in your room (until they’re all staying over) while your leftovers spin in your microwave. All the while, you can’t get rid of the infuriating itch in your lower belly, demanding attention. “Guess abundance can mean anything.” You mutter as you cut your eyes over to your cottage while removing your food from the microwave.

There’s no one to blame but yourself, you figure as you shut off the rest of the lights in your apartment, and while the abundance isn’t fully working out how you want right now… that doesn’t mean you won’t wake up to a 30 million dollar check in the mail from a secret admirer.

Though you don’t have time to be amused by your thoughts, instead, you’re frozen in your doorway, petrified by the two icy blue eyes glowing in the darkest corner of your room. As your eyes meet, another wave of arousal rushes over you, threatening to knock you off of your feet, but you’ll be damned if you drop your leftovers, opting instead to squeeze your thighs together softly as his mouth cracks open into a wide smile, teeth just as bright as his eyes.

The man begins to approach you, each step feeling like a vibration in your core, and as your mind reels, you figure that he has to be the deity. Granted, now that he’s out of the darkness, he does look good enough to eat - tall and lean, black dress pants running along the incredible length of his legs to gleaming shoes and a white button-up shirt that looks soft enough to wrap your pillow in, just enough buttons open to show the peek of a silver necklace glinting beneath - but you’d be lying if you said you thought a real person could turn you on to this extent. He stops once the cool tips of his shoes rest against your toes, his burning gaze lazily dropping to the soft pink polish on your toes before dragging its way up past the hem of your nightgown to your chest, lingering there as his Cheshire smile grows even wider and his eyes make one final jump to meet yours. “Hey.”

Having him so close to you is an adjustment you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to make as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing. You have no idea what to say in response, and before you can think about it, or simply whimper instead, your mouth moves without your permission, “Are you a fairy?”

The man throws his head back in a boisterous laugh, his lower lip poking out in a mocking pout when he meets your eyes again, “Awe, pretty girl,” A cool thumb caresses your cheek, your body still adjusting to his pressure, “Were you supposed to be summoning a fairy?” Nodding, your shoulder lifts in a halfhearted shrug, “Or a deity. Of um, of abundance.”

He removes his hand from your face and clicks his tongue, not relinquishing his pout as he pulls one of your cottage flowers from his pocket. “And here I thought you were trying to set the mood.” As he maneuvers the flower behind your ear, you realize that you hadn’t even noticed that his pockets were stuffed with all of the flowers you’d set up to welcome… whatever he was. Luckily, he answers your question after plucking the long stem from the flower behind your ear, “My name is Gojo Satoru, and I am the finest incubus you can summon.”

You’re not given much time to process, your confused (and betrayed) gaze still out of your bedroom door and set on the naked cottage as Gojo takes your hand and pulls you towards your bed. He takes a seat on the edge, releasing a hum of delighted satisfaction at the soft bounce, and rests you so you’re standing between his open legs, the tv flickering colors across his face, all paling in comparison to his eyes. “I summoned a demon?” Gojo nods, smile ever present and hand not yet leaving yours, “Can incubi also bring money?”

Gojo chuckles, “You ask a lot of questions don’t you?” He pulls another flower from his pocket and rips the stem off with his teeth before placing behind his own ear, “I’ll answer that one and any others you’re allowed to ask until we’re done, okay?” His okay is punctuated by his hand releasing yours and instead mirroring his other to slowly trail up your legs and beneath your nightgown.

“For starters, you’re gonna call me Satoru tonight, or however much of it you’re able to get out later.” A cheeky smirk as he looks up at you through his frosty lashes makes you want to feel his mouth on you and see if it’s as chilled as the rest of him is, but he’s also a demon, so using your newly mastered skill of beating your desires back until you just barely have control, you nod and clench your thighs again, “Okay, Satoru.” His hands have reached the hem of your panties now, fingers bunching the material until he clasps the entire sides in both hands, “Good! Now, as far as money goes, usually, no, but, if you’re a good girl for me, I just might reconsider.”

If you weren’t already struggling to keep your breath softer than a pant, you’d probably be embarrassed at how your legs quiver at the label, especially when Satoru acknowledges the shake with a groan deep in his chest and the tortuously slow descent of your panties, which he follows with the burial of his nose in the crevice between your thighs over your nightgown. After he finishes a deep breath, he releases your panties to land on the floor and catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckles again. “I’m a demon, not a monster, you’re not in any danger.” The end of the statement is very pointed, Satoru’s eyes serious as he says it, though they soften again when you nod, some of the returned tension in your shoulders dropping with the motion of your head.

Satoru’s icy hands have made their way back up your legs, his fingers digging into your ass as he kneads the fat of it, the crotch of his pants tightening in response, “Last answer, no more questions til we’re done; I don’t care about your neighbors, don’t muffle any of the sounds you make. I know I won’t be, so it’ll be a waste if you try.” While you heard Satoru, your entire body’s attention has been focused on his cock trying to break through the zipper of his pants, and with one more nod, this one much less invested than your prior, you drop to your knees in front of Satoru. He goes to protest, but you offer a silent trade, offering him your leftovers, though he doesn’t take the plate until you pull your lust blown eyes from the growing tent in his pants to meet his own. Once your eyes meet, Satoru laughs, almost giddy, and takes your plate, “Are you repaying me for earlier?”

Your fingers fumble with his pants, your anticipation so high, you can barely function. You have to taste him, and you most definitely have to do it now, besides, Satoru is counting on you to be a good girl for him, “I’m gonna try.” You mutter as you finally get his pants undone. Satoru takes a forkful of leftovers into his mouth, those paralyzing eyes of his focused on you.

Taking a note from Satoru’s book, you slowly, tortuously pull his pants down, your lips leaving wet kisses along his snowy happy trail. Satoru is about to say something else, but you finally get his pants down low enough to see he isn’t wearing any underwear beneath his perfectly tailored pants and lick a path from one side of his pelvis to the other, forcing him to cut off whatever he was going to say with a breathy groan.

The noise makes you impatient, yanking Satoru’s pants just low enough for his cock to come springing up onto his stomach, long veiny, and begging to be touched. Flicking your eyes up to his flushed face, you guide his tip into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and pushing your tongue against the sensitive skin just beneath the head of his cock, a smile constricting your mouth even more when the repeated motion causes Satoru to flop back onto your bed with a long whine.

Taking a deep breath in through your nose while you can, you glide his twitching length over your tongue until the cool, yet angry red tip pushes at the back of your throat. The entirety of Satoru can’t fit into your mouth, the very base of him eluding the warm wet embrace, so to make up for it, you sit up on your knees and extend your tongue to lick what your lips can’t reach, spit pooling into the short shorn hairs you can’t quite bury your nose into. Now Satoru moans, low and lulling, setting your plate beside himself on your bed and tossing his head back. As you lift your mouth from his cock slowly, tongue lazily dragging behind, Satoru’s breaths turn into shallow pants. You can’t remember the last time you wanted to savor something so badly, or the last time you wanted to devour something so grossly it’d be hard to look your mother in the eye. Satoru is using one hand to push his fluffy hair off of his forehead and the other is lying limp over the edge of your bed. His moans and whines have your pussy clenching and dripping, aching for the relief that comes when you slip two of your fingers into your heat.

As the stimulation on your g-spot and the dizzying heat of Satoru’s slack jawed stare make you moan around the head of his cock, you suddenly drop your mouth back down on him until his spongy head makes harsh contact with the back of your throat. The feeling pulls a deep growl from Satoru, the edges of his licked lips curling as you repeat the motion, building a steady pace of slow ascension and burning descent until the sounds of your clattering beads, moans, and squelches of your fingers fidgeting in your pussy are joined by the wet, choked cry forced from your lips every time you make that bruising collision.

“So good, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Satoru praises you, reaching for something on the small end table beside your bed, sharp blue eyes still trained on you and summoning another wave of arousal over your curling fingers. You moan at the feeling, air in the room growing thick and Satoru sits up now, resting his weight on his left arm as he extends the other to you, revealing your new toy. You still your movements, your aching throat enjoying the reprieve as you gaze up at Satoru, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and your tongue lazily sliding along his twitching length. “I wanna taste you while I fuck your mouth, pretty girl, you can use this.”

You don’t go to move for the toy, not because you don’t want to, of course, but once again, as your eyes flicker from his open hand to his face, his eyes, your body’s actions seem to be incredibly limited, only allowing for your pussy to clench tighter around your fingers and your mouth to release a needy whine around Satoru’s cock. Hissing at the vibration, his expression gets serious, “Take it and use it. Give me your hand.” His demand turns your brain back on and you pull your fingers out of yourself with a loud pop, your wetness dripping onto the floor as you present your sticky fingers to Satoru, your other hand dropping into his own to drunkenly grasp the pink toy.

Satoru is smiling again, pulling another cock muffled whimper from you, “Awe, baby, is that all for me?” He coos, cheeks flushed as he licks at some of the sticky arousal that has dripped down to your wrist. You nod, needy moans and whimpers leaving your mouth more often than breath at the moment, and your heat missing something to grip as Satoru’s eyes roll back into his head as he groans hungrily at the taste of you. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re dark and hazy, almost making his cheeky grin look ravenous, devilish. “You should have told me you tasted so good.” He doesn’t leave any room for response - not that you really could in your state anyway - before his head gestures to your hand, still lying in his, “Use your rose, pretty girl. I want you to cum with me.”

Now that your new toy is turned on and pressed against your clit, Satoru gently grips the back of your neck, his thumb gently stroking the skin behind your ear as he savors the taste of your arousal on your fingers, “Relax your mouth, baby, okay?” This time, Satoru let’s you nod in response before his grip on your neck tightens and he thrusts his hips so he hits the back of your throat again, the sensation making you both moan loudly. He barely pulls back before plunging his cold cock head right back into the increasingly more sensitive spot. Relentless, Satoru keeps his pace, whimpering broken fragments of praises and your name as he sucks and licks at your hand, cleaning you up with a greedy attention to detail that almost makes you wish he was licking into you in tandem with the you making your thighs shake.

Almost. But as Satoru’s thrusts begin to speed up and his licks begin to turn into dragging bites to your palm, you relish in the feeling of having his heavy cock twitch in your warm mouth and his balls gathering and spreading the drool seeping out of your mouth with loud slaps. He’s loud, he’s rough, he’s greedy, and as Gojo Satoru clenches his jaw and interlocks your fingers, begging you to cum with him and telling you how good you feel, you’re sure he’s also absolutely divine. His lidded eyes and slack jaw are enough to have you clenching your thighs and moaning loud and long as your orgasm crashes over you, so strong your vision goes white for a moment.

Satoru lets out a low broken moan as he watches your orgasm rush through you, contorting your face and constricting your mouth around him. His short fingernails are digging temporary crescents into the back of your neck as he holds you down on his cock as far as he can manage, “Eyes up here. Watch what you do to me.” Satoru waits patiently, grinding into your mouth slow and hard until you’re able to lull your eyes back to his.

As soon as you make eye contact, Satoru reaffirms his grip on your neck and begins to piston his hips, making his earlier pace seem geriatric. “Fuck, been so good for me, haven’t you?” Satoru pants out, voice soft and raspy. You hum an acknowledgement around him, a nod barely able to be formed due to Satoru’s rapid thrusting, but your whiny confirmation, the beg for his approval buzzing around his aching cock is all Satoru needs. With his jaw slack to release a loud throaty moan and his snowy eyelashes fluttering, Satoru cums down your throat, warm and so, so filling. As he twitches against your tongue, holding you so far down his length tears slip between your lips and add to the salty flavor of him filling your mouth, Satoru chuckles breathlessly, “That’s right… take it all.”

Satoru doesn’t let his hefty cock slip out of your mouth until you’ve swallowed all of the cum he gave you. Untangling your hands, Satoru pulls you up so you’re straddling his lap and he sets to wiping the tears from your cheeks and sweeping the cum that seeped out of the corners of your mouth up with his thumb. “Open up, pretty girl, you’ve got leftovers.” Satoru coos, the cheeky tone he never abandons for long makes you huff in soft indignation, but the compliment has you moving forward to suck the digit into your mouth, being sure to clean it of Satoru’s salty cum, eyes closing at the flavor and pussy fluttering again.

Opening your mouth to release Satoru’s thumb, you rub yourself against his still stiff member, subconsciously scratching the itch he seems capable of continually causing, “I wanna do that again.” You’re insatiable as you hump your way through your sentence, wanting him so badly you can’t stop yourself from gripping his shirt so tightly your knuckles hurt as you run your clit over his bulbous head, high pitched whimpers falling from your lips at every pass.

You lean in to kiss Satoru and lick the smug grin off of his face, but he moves away, reveling in how your pout after chasing his lips doesn’t result in him meeting you excitedly, tongue startlingly warm and licking a path through your mouth. “No baby,” Satoru flips you effortlessly, standing to slowly discard his clothes as he watches you rub your thighs together, “Now I do my job.” Fully naked, adorned only in the thin, glistening chain and the securely placed flower he set behind his ear earlier, Satoru creeps himself up the bed towards you.

One sloppy kiss after another, Satoru hums his way up your body. As he’s passing by your pussy, Satoru pushes your thighs open and with his tongue flat, he licks one mean stripe up your slit before abandoning your lips entirely and setting to nibbling at your neck. Before you can protest though, Satoru slips one of his long fingers into you, immediately curling to where you’re most sensitive, “You gonna be loud for me while I fuck you full, pretty girl?”

#i-jus-wanna-write-fanfics #black girl insert series #black reader insert #black!fem!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x black reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut

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mister-e-muss · 10 months ago

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I had a game development idea, so if you’d like to hear me ramble about an idea involving ATB and Stamina systems in RPGs, follow me. I should warn you though, that this is probably the longest post I’ve ever written.

So, I was looking at gameplay of Final Fantasy 13 out of curiosity, and a thought struck me.

Xenogears, Chrono Cross, and Legend of Legaia all use something I refer to as a stamina system for their attacks: You have a certain amount of points, and you can use as many of them as you want in a given turn, with extra bonuses sometimes stacking on top depending on how many and what types of attacks you’ve used. If you wanted to stretch the definition, then you could argue that Baten Kaitos does this as well, but with cards instead of basic attacks.

This made me realize that Final Fantasy 13 did something similar, but using Time as your resource. You can have an entire log of basic attacks, a medium amount of medium attacks, or a limit break that takes up all your time. What also separates FF13 from the aforementioned examples is that FF13 uses it for all of their abilities and options, instead of just basic attacks.

I know that a lot of the criticism towards FF13 comes from having to rely on auto-input rather than manually planning out your turn. So I started to think on how I would maybe handle the same idea of an “ATBar as Resource” or a take on something inspired by FF13.

My theoretical battle system goes something like this. Like FF13 your options revolve around queuing up sets of commands for your character or characters to enact. Unlike FF13, you have as much time as you’d like to have when deciding your commands. (Think Wait mode in classic FF games and Chrono Trigger, where time pauses as you scroll through your magics.) However, your turn only starts once you’ve queued up your attacks and what have you. When you’ve finished selecting your strategy, the time starts ticking and the abilities you’ve selected all start to charge up, going off when they reach full charge. Like Xenogears Deathblows, there would even be extra moves and bonuses for choosing the right combinations. The key difference here is that it applies to more than just basic attacks. Like using two spells that go off at the same time to combine, or using ascending levels of spell to create an ultimate attack for that element.

I actually made a little design guide for comparison, and hopefully explain the idea better.

I realize that stamina systems might be best used in a more traditional turn-based system, so that the player isn’t getting overwhelmed by constant inputs. However this is why I suggest the pausing as the player picks commands. To keep this more in line with ATB, all of the turns will have a separate ‘Cooldown’ phase that determines when they’ll be able to act again. Maybe even have this cooldown extend the more actions or longer actions are taken. To keep this from getting to confusing, I’m suggesting color coordination. I’m picturing something like this:

(I was worried the photo wouldn’t look good. My colored pencils are not the best quality.)

Hopefully even a system as theoretically complex as this would be manageable if everything is laid out properly. A standard party status would look something like this:

Revisiting the whole Combo Finisher/Deathblows mechanic, I feel like this is a personal preference rather than a solid design necessity, but when your combat relies heavily on experimentation, a clear way to keep track of what works is vital. I’m not suggesting that all the combos are listed fighting game style right off the bat, but rather that the game keep track of discovered combos and potential combos.

Like, say that you have used the level 1 Thunder exemplified in my first diagram, but you haven’t yet acquired the other two Thunders, or if you have them but haven’t used them in that order yet. Then when you start your turn with Thunder it will register in a database that you can check on the main menu. It will say “[Thunder l.v.1] + [???] + [???] = [???]” This doesn’t really tell the player much, but it does say at least that there is a combo move that starts with the basic Thunder. This means the player will find out when they are on the right track, won’t hesitate to experiment, and have a place to check their moves if they step away from the game for a while. I’m not a believer in explaining to the point of killing discovery. However I’m also very much against blind aimless wandering.

This last idea might be a step too far, but at this point I’ve spilled everything else, I might as well spitball this too. What if, in this theoretical RPG, you could combine turns? Pass one character so that when the next one finishes cooldown, they pool the available attacks and queue points so that even bigger and more complex combos can be built?

Idk Man, it’s half-an-hour into the next morning, and I don’t even know if a game like this sounds like a good idea. I am not, have never been, and most likely never will be a game developer. This is just the most detailed gamecrafting thought that I’ve ever had, and I feel like it should be written down and documented just in case. And hey, if there are any Indie devs out there who would want to take a crack at this type of combat, please tag me, I would Love to see if this works in practice as well as it does in concept!

Thank you all for indulging my very detailed ramblings.

#game development #game design #jrpg #rpg #turn based rpg #atb #xenogears #chrono cross #legend of legaia #final fantasy 13 #baten kaitos

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transamorousnetwork · 1 year ago

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Transgender Self Acceptance: A Beautiful, Powerful Thing

I have a client on the Positively Focused side of what I do. She’s cisgender and has fallen for a man she manifested. But the man waffles a lot over his commitment to her. Rather than seeing this guy as not worth her time, because he does not meet her minimum requirements, she’s clinging to this man.

Because she believes this man is the only man out there for her, she believes she MUST have this man. As a result of her scarcity consciousness — about men and relationships — she suffers as the guy keeps breaking up with her, then he apologizes and comes back to her.

On my bike ride this morning I couldn’t help contrasting her experience with my own. As I’ve written in earlier posts, I now have a girlfriend. What’s remarkable, among many things, about Muriel, is her radical self acceptance. She knows herself. She recognizes those things about herself she wants to improve. And most importantly, one of those is not trying to pass as a cisgender woman.

I love that about her. Her radical acceptance of her status as a transgender woman resonates powerfully with me. That’s because I know the best happiness lies in self acceptance. Accepting fully who we are is the key to getting everything we want.

Loving who we are as we are

Self acceptance is a struggle for many transgender women. Muriel say this is because transgender women try to be something they’re not. I agree. They compare themselves to cisgender women. Then use that comparison as the yardstick for their “passability”.

Hopefully, dear reader, you can see the built-in struggle of that approach. Many transgender women compare themselves against something they’ll never be. And, in that comparison, they cannot accept a man who wants them for who they ACTUALLY are. So it’s no surprise such women struggle with finding love in relationship. It’s also no wonder they revile trans-attracted men.

They don’t fully love themselves as they are. So when someone expresses love for them as they are, they reject that person. As they reject themselves. Thankfully, Muriel is not that way. She loves (most) of who and what she is. So she can accept my affection. Indeed, my affection apparently amplifies her own self-appreciation. And I enjoy doing that for her. I reflecting back to her the love she has for herself.

Joy and freedom are at the heart of self acceptance. The more one pushes toward greater acceptance of all that one is, the more love and joy one will experience. First in themselves. Then in the world around them. In time the world will reflect back to them that inner state of joy. And when that happens, everything the person wants must show up in their life experience. Including lovers.

This is true for transgender women and trans-attracted men. It applies to everyone actually.

^^Loving ourselves is the best thing we can do to get all we want. Especially in love. (Photo by Giulia Bertelli on Unsplash)

Our perfect match is looking for us

Which again, is why Muriel and I have found one another. It’s no surprise that Muriel and I find the relationship we are experiencing satisfying. The limits it includes are perfectly matched to our life situations. Hers, being in an open marriage. Mine, being focused on my spiritual path. These two aspects of our lives are perfectly accommodated in what we share.

I want my Positively Focused client to find her full self acceptance. Doing so, she’ll find no need to pine after men. When it does, men like the one she’s pursuing won’t show up. Instead, she’ll rendezvous with men who are equally matched to her self acceptance. This already is happening. She’s getting better at seeing this.

Confidence, joy, freedom, security. All these are available to those who fully accept themselves. It doesn’t matter whether one is trans or cis. We’re all human after all. And we all have multiple perfect matches looking for us. Not just one. I love helping trans women and trans-attracted men find those kinds of matches.

Accepting oneself fully is not an easy matter though. Especially when so much of society conditions us out of self acceptance. That’s why someone like me can help those wanting joy, satisfaction and love.

If you’re one of those people wanting more joy, satisfaction and love, contact me. Results are guaranteed. Whatever you want you can have. But you first must become a match to it.

#transgender #transamorous #mtf #transattracted #transgirl #transisbeautiful #transsexual #transamorous men #transattraction #transamorous network #transpride

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playbucky · 3 years ago

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Forget Me Not.

Peter Parker has been forgotten by everyone, everyone except from Y/N who he doesn’t remember. Characters – Peter, Y/N, Word Count – 1.6k.

He walked though the doors, the smell of coffee tickled his nose. He watched as MJ looked at him, hearing the faint sound of the bell above the door behind him. MJ smiled at him before raising her hand and waving, Peter widened his eyes before someone gently pushed past him. He turned and watched as Ned walked over to the seat. ‘Hi, what can I get you?’ MJ asked him, he looked at the piece of paper that was crumpled from the amount of times he had folded it. ‘Hi I’m Peter Parker and I-‘ he started, looking between the two of them. ‘I would like a coffee.’ He changed his mind last minute, MJ looked at him before nodding. ‘Of course.’ She said, giving him a confused but genuine smile. ‘Peter.’ You called, he looked around. ‘Me?’ He asked, pointing to his chest, you nodded. ‘We’ll your name is Peter Parker is it not?’ You asked, pulling the stool out that was free next to him. ‘You remember me?’ He quizzed, you wiggled in the seat a bit before nodding. ‘It’s hard to forget the Spider-Man of New York.’ You said lowly. ‘You shouldn’t remember me, I was-‘ he started telling you, but snapped his mouth shut. ‘A spell right?’ You asked, he pulled his lips in and nodded slowly. ‘I felt it happen, seems like I’m an exception.’ You stated, you then turned back to the girl and boy, both talking to each other. Then you turned back to Peter and arched an eyebrow. ‘You gonna tell them?’ You asked, he slowly shook his head and turned back to you. ‘I don’t- I don’t think so.’ He replied, you arched an eyebrow. ‘They’ll be better without me.’ He added. ‘You know that or are you just thinking that?’ You quizzed. ‘I know that.’ He stated, trying to sound confident in his answer. ‘I caused them so much trouble and put them… everything a risk.’ He explained, you nodded as you lowered your head and smiled at the counter. ‘I thought that as well.’ You told him. ‘What?’ He asked, you looked at him and gave a small smile. ‘Would you believe me if I said that I was once your friend, even Tony’s friend?’ You questioned. ‘I-‘ he hesitated, you slid your phone out and clicked on your album app, swiping through the photos until you found the ones you’ve looked at far too many times. Watching as Peter slowly slid through the photos, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. ‘That’s, you’re –‘ He said, pointing at them, quickly sliding through another few seeing ones with all the teams huddled together, smiling and laughing. ‘The White Widow?’ He asked, his brows almost touching as he turned back to you. ‘That’s me.’ You said, lowering your head. ‘Why did we forget you?’ he asked, you pressed your lips together. ‘I made a deal.’ You told him. ‘A deal?’ He asked, you nodded. ‘Yes, an agreeance between two people.’ You explained it to him, he sighed and passed your pothole back over. ‘Who was the second person?’ Peter questioned, you shook your head. ‘I can’t tell you because I don’t even know.’ You commented. ‘Can I ask why you made everyone’s forget you?’ Peter asked, you nodded. ‘At the time it was the only way to make sure you and the others were safe.’ You told him, looking at his wide eyes before looking down to the counter, your finger nail following along the occasional scratch. ‘Did it work?’ He asked, you scoffed. ‘At the time yes, but then the blip happened and well…’ you gestured around you, he nodded slowly kind of understanding. ‘You weren’t blipped?’ ‘No, I guess I was lucky that way.’ You said, he sighed and nodded. ‘Do you think theres a way Strange can put back my spell, and yours?’ Peter asked spurning hopefully, you closed your eyes before shaking your head as you looked back at him. ‘He can’t undo mine, he didn’t do it.’ ‘As for you? I don’t know, if he did it, there must have been a reason behind it.’ You said, Peter nodded. ‘Yeah, I managed to anger everyone that wanted to harm or kill a Peter Parker in their universe.’ He explained, you pursed your lips and raised your eyebrows. ‘That will do it.’ ‘You could make her fall for you again.’ You told him, his eyes flickered to her before shaking his head. ‘For her to go through everything again.’ ‘You could get in the same college Asher, be the handsome man and sweep her off her feet and leave behind Spider-Man if you really wanted to.’ ‘Who would carry on Tony’s legacy?’ He asked, you gave him a sad smile. ‘I don’t want to upset you but your life is worth more than Tony’s legacy, everyone will remember him, whether it be for good or bad, just like the entire team and anyone that joins it but you… you only have one chance.’ You finished. ‘This could technically be my second chance.’ He commented with a raised eyebrow, you chuckled and nodded. ‘It could be, so do everything right.’ ‘Maybe even going to MIT you can learn more and come back, work at Stark and even become a geek on the avengers again.’ You suggested, nudging his shoulder as he laughed. ‘What have you done with your second chance?’ He asked. ‘Not enough Parker, not enough to right the wrongs I did but I am trying.’ You said, you signalled down MJ and watched as he panicked. ‘I’m going to pay for my drink, your going to flirt with her and I hope to see you walking down the street hand in hand at some point.’ You explained, quickly as MJ walked over with a polite smile on her face. ‘Where are you going?’ ‘I’m going to right my wrongs Parker.’ You said, leaning to the side to pull out the change for MJ. ‘The coffee was delicious.’ You said, she looked confused. ‘It’s just from a pot.’ ‘You must’ve poured it with love then.’ You commented, before slipping her a decent tip that she was about to reject. ‘Keep it, maybe us it on the date that Peter here wants to ask you on.’ You commented, patting Peters shoulder as they both looked at you confused with wide eyes. You jutted your chin at MJ and Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes before exhaling as he turned to focus MJ, allowing you to walk away from them.

‘White Widow. So you’re back.’ She said, not sounding surprised in the slightest. ‘Yup, can’t seem to stay away.’ You replied sarcastically, the old woman allowed her lips to twitch. ‘I want to make another deal?’ You announced, she sat up in her chair, eyes narrowed watching you. ‘Why?’ She questioned. ‘I’ve meet someone who deserves to be known.’ You told her, she chuckled. ‘What will be used in return? No one knows who you are.’ She pointed out, you nodded. ‘Give Peter Parker his life back, and I’ll…’ You trialed off, you didn’t have anything to give her. ‘And you’ll what? You gave everything away to make sure that the team survived but they didn’t, they forgot you and they still died any way.’ She replied, you clenched your jaw, knowing that she was trying to wind you up. ‘I know that, but surely there is a way that I can get his life back, even if it means giving mine away again.’ You suggested, rubbing your hands together since the temperature in the place just dropped. ‘There is one way.’ She said slowly, tilting her head to the side. ’I’ll do it.’ You replied, she looked shocked. ‘You don’t know what the consequences are.’ She replied, you shrugged. ‘Look, I could be immortal and have no one know me if Jt meant peter Parker, who is as innocent as it gets has his life… if he gets to be with MJ and Ned forever, then curse me again and put me in a cave.’ You told her, she tilted her head before nodding. ‘As you wish.’ She replied, before she started mumbling words, hers eyes turning white as they rolled out the back of her head and everything went dark.

Sitting the back booth, you lifted the mug to your lips and carefully took a sip of the hot liquid as the small bell above the door dinged. Lifting your head you recognised the brown curls that’s came bounding in. You watched as his smiled widened and he made his way over to Ned and MJ, hugging them. You smiled, quietly watching as they talked animatedly between the three of them, Peter pulled out a white envelope and he opened it. His smiled widened before Ned flung his arms around him and started jumping up and down. As he lowered himself into the stool, he looked at the letter once more. You watched as he turned around, searching the cafe for someone. You were about to look away when his eyes landed on you, his gaze narrowed before he gave you a small smile and nod. You returned it before pulling money out to pay for the drink plus a nice tip, sliding out the of the booth you pulled the door open and stepped out into the frozen streets of New York. ‘Excuse me.’ He called, you continued walking ignoring him. Someone touched the back of your arm and you turned, coming face to face with Peter. You arched an eyebrow at him in a silent question. ‘You left this.’ He said, holding out a napkin. ‘I-‘ ‘It fell out your pocket.’ He said, reaching out and grabbing your hand before placing it in the centre of your palm. ‘Have a good day ma’am.’ He stated before quickly turning and walking away. Running your finger over the off white material, you unfolded, the black ink had soaked into it. ‘Thank you.’ It read, you smiled, lowering your head.

#Peter parker x reader #reader x peter parker #peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #spiderman x reader #reader x spiderman #spiderman imagines #spiderman fanfiction #marvel x reader #reader x marvel #marvel imagines #marvel

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twsthoodstar · 4 years ago

Text

Twst x Pokémon Pt. 3

This is a part 3 of the last Pokémon post I did, this time with the vice dorm leaders. Sorry this is so late, I’ve been feeling under the weather recently 😓 But I’m starting to feel better now.

Request/idea received from this Anon

Babysitting their crush’s Pokémon while they’re away. However, that task has proven more difficult than expected.

Trey Clover ♣️

Trey was both delighted and nervous when you asked him to babysit Slurpuff. He had only hoped it wouldn’t be as troublesome as certain glutinous monster cat, although he had to admit he was curious. Slurpuff looked so soft and squishy! It couldn’t be that much of a handful could it?

Well needless to say, Slurpuff was actually very helpful in the kitchen. It’s unique sense of smell helped pick the best ingredients and it was more than happy to aid in assembling the treats for the Unbirthday Party, nudging Trey to taste the batter. It reminded Trey of his little siblings back home, how they’d always try and sneak a piece.

However, it all went downhill once the part started. One by one everyone’s cakes and cookies disappeared without a trace. Unaware of the pink Pokémon sneakily using Physic to float the wonderful pastries into its mouth. But it’s cover was blown when it tried to steal Riddle’s tart, and Trey had to step in before the poor little thing lost its head.

Ruggie Bucchi 🐾

Better hope Ruggie doesn’t eat your precious little bundle of wool, might be hard to hold himself back. Shi shi shi, he’s only kidding! He wouldn’t do that to you! Unfortunately, Wooloo seemed to take that very personally and rolled away! It hadn’t even been 5 minutes and Ruggie was already chasing it down!

Poor Wooloo; perhaps leaving it in a dorm full of hungry carnivores wasn’t the greatest idea. Because it zoomed all over the place, trying to flee from any large beastmen. Though I’m sure it looked hilarious seeing the vice dorm leader chasing after a living pillow. Ruggie eventually needed Jack’s help in catching the little guy, and it surprisingly took a liking to the first year!

Wooloo was all over Jack, hiding behind his legs and nuzzling into his bushy tail. Peering at Ruggie with big nervous eyes. He hadn’t planned for this, Ruggie wanted to show you just how responsible he was all on his own, that included caring for your pet. But it couldn’t be helped. Jack hadn’t planned to babysit, but it seemed he had no other choice.

Jade Leech 🐬

(I love Psyduck so much 🥰)

Now Psyduck here is a bit of a special case, so you were a bit hesitant to leave it with Jade. Now there was nothing to worry about, Jade makes sure your Psyduck is well taken care of, he’ll pamper it to perfection. He has claimed he enjoys serving others. Although it appears Psyduck is a rather sensitive creature. But that just makes things more interesting, plus it’s adorable to boot.

Constantly rubbing it’s head, it takes in its surroundings rather slowly. It barely realized you left the room and was just recently waddling around looking for you, poor dear. 😅 Well this shouldn’t be a problem; playtime with rubber duckies, drawing a bath, Jade makes sure Psyduck is in top shape until you get back! However, there was one mishap Jade wasn’t preparing for.

It takes special skill to escape Jade’s well trained eye, and Psyduck just happened to find that perfect moment. Before it knocked into Jade’s terrarium, spilling out all kinds of plants and muck onto the floor with a big bump on its head. It was an accident, but Psyduck couldn’t shake that sudden glare in the eel’s eye. Not even when Jade rubbed its bruised head affectionately.

Floyd Leech 🦈

Oh boy, Gible was not happy about you leaving. Especially leaving its care to a stranger like Floyd. It stomped around and grumbled like a fussy toddler, aggressive to anyone that came near it. While everyone was afraid of getting their hand chewed off, Floyd remained as careless and as brave as ever. So Shrimpy left this little sharkie to be his playmate? How fun!

Gible did not want to play with Floyd, it tried making that as clear as possible. Playing basketball? Deflated. Some squeaky toys? Shredded to pieces. Dancing? It chomped the radio to bits. A yummy platter? Scarfed it down, plate and all. Floyd was clearly losing his patience and started to shift into one of his outrageously random mood swings.

Talk about bad timing when you have an angry Gible pouting across the room. Floyd, now upset the Pokémon wasn’t accepting his friendship, made the mistake of trying to squeeze it. Gible bit him 😬. Chomped right down on his hand, but suprisingly Floyd was fine. It did take Azul and Jade awhile to pry it off, then to keep Floyd from biting back! Hopefully, you’ll return soon before the Lounge ends up in shambles.

Jamil Viper 🐍

Honestly Jamil thinks your Salandit is super cool. Sly and cunning with a streak of mystery, it reminds him of himself. (You smug snake 😑) It was almost the perfect pet for himself, a powerful on way that. Now I’m sure Jamil has some experience with animals, he is Kalim’s right hand man and a servant of the Asim family, the kid knows a thing or two about parades.

So it’s a cake walk babysitting Salandit, at least for the most part. Pokémon are unpredictable creatures and unknown to Twisted Wonderland, so Jamil’s in for a big surprise when Salandit starts dripping actual v e n o m. The red liquid oozes out of its mouth as it starts to burn small holes in the carpet. Of course panics because, that carpet is expensive! And why did you have such a creature in your possession!

He was not prepared for this. Apparently it was having a scuffle with Kalim’s magic carpet, the piece of matting simply wanted to play with Scarabia’s new guest, but the poisonous fire-type took it as a threat instead. Chasing each other around like wild dogs. Reacting quickly, Jamil put it outside using Snake Whisper before things escalated, but decided to give you a call.

Rook Hunt 🏹

You thought Jade was pampering, Rook is over the moon for this fairy type! What a wonderful creature, absolutely beautiful! Rook is completely captivated by the fairy-like creature, the pure pink essence of love in its true form!~ ✨ As he puts it anyways. 😅 Rook will smother Sylveon with attention!

He’ll groom it to perfection and flaunt it to the entire dorm, this of course draws some attention. No one has ever seen a creature quite like Sylveon, with its sweet voice and flowing ribbons. And you left Rook himself in charge to take care of it isn’t that wonderful! ~ ✨ This basically turned into one big photo shoot, with Rook at the center gushing over his new friend.

He even takes Sylveon out on a hunt stroll with him. Man cries when it wraps it’s ribbons around it’s wrist. Let’s just hope no rowdy students make fun of their little adventure, they’ll have a merciless arrow drawn back ready to face them. Rook won’t tolerate gossiping, no one is allowed to tarnish the beauty you and your partner share together.

Ortho Shroud 🤖

Ortho was more than happy to take care of Pikachu for you! He was the one that actually accepted in the first place. It was just so cute and round and soft and friendly, a perfect companion for our little Ortho! Plus, he was really excited to analyze it for his database. Although, in reality he took this opportunity to get Idia out of his shell and help him.

Humans and animals were already a well known subject Ortho knew plenty about, even a few beasts were a well known species. So a loveable Pokémon shouldn’t serve a problem. While Idia wasn’t all that excited about watching a living, breathing, messy pet (virtual pets were much easier) Ortho was not having it and saw this as a good experience.

Playtime was his favorite, Pikachu was just so fast and full of energy. Zipping back and forth with a Quick Attack to chase the bouncy ball, or using its tail to play catch. It was such a cheerful little sunshine, it even shocked Ortho a bit with its cheeks. Emitting little sparks of electricity, which felt really nice. They’re both just so cute together, Idia snuck a few pictures of them napping together.

Lilia Vanrouge 🍷

Another child for Lilia to adopt!! Oh how precious! Immediately Lilia’s fawning over your cute Noibat, however, you tell Lilia to be careful as this Pokémon is quite young. Of course Lilia heads your warning and bids you a graceful farewell, before rushing off with the cutie in his arms to flaunt to his whole dorm.

Almost immediately Lilia’s going to test his cooking skills; a growing boy like that needs to eat right? Well don’t worry, chef Lilia will whip up something nice, which of course has Noibat cheering for a hot meal. The trio of terrified fae and their drowsy human: they couldn’t have Lilia kill off something so precious, you’d be heartbroken!

However, perhaps they were a bit too slow in stopping Lilia, because thanks to his magic he had already whipped up a horrendous looking hole of soup. But what had everyone’s jaws dropping was that Noibat enjoyed it! It even cooed for seconds, nudging Lilia with the bowl. Of course Lilia was over the moon, he’ll have to ask to babysit more often.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #pokemon #pokemon headcanons #pokemon imagines #trey clover x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #ortho shroud #lilia vanrouge x reader

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k-llama-llama · 4 years ago

Text

A Piece of You

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Rei x Seventeen

A glimpse into Rei and Taemin’s last day together.

Rei is not a permanent addition so if you have requests let me know…but she’s just an idea I had. She is NOT cannon with the rest of my AUs.

A/N: sorry for the delay!!….ALSO CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR ACCESS TO EXCLUSIVE CONTENT AND EARLY ACCESS (patreon.com/kllamallama)

Requests are OPEN!!!

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“Are you going to stop moping around?” Taemin asked. “Or am I going to have to finish your noodles for you?”

Rei sighed, shoving the bowl towards him. “You can finish them. I don’t feel like eating.”

Taemin rolled his eyes and didn’t touch her food. “Rei, I love you, but you’ve been super depressing today. What’s up?”

Rei just stared at him. She’d been at his place for almost two hours, and she’d yet to crack a smile. Looking at him just made her want to cry even more, but Chan had made her promise not to be weird when she was with Taemin.

“You should eat.” She said finally. “You need it.”

“I still have some promotions to do,” He shook his head with a wary laugh. “You trying to fatten me up?”

“No…I just…” Rei trailed off. “Never mind, just eat it.”

She looked down at her lap. This was the last full day that they would have together before his enlistment, and she wasn’t handling it well. Her breakdown at the dorm that morning had been evidence of that. Chan had shaken sense into her, so here she was, being miserable and thoroughly unable to enjoy her limited time with her boyfriend.

“Rei, you know you can talk to me about it, right?” Taemin smiled softly.

Rei turned away from him, tucking her legs under her on the couch and studying the frayed pattern on the cushion. “Just eat, okay? Who knows what the food is like…where you’re going.”

Taemin sighed, reaching across the coffee table to place a hand on her knee. “Rei, I’m not going to Mars. I’m not even leaving the country. They’ll have food there.”

“But what if it’s not enough?” She protested. “They’ll have you working hard and you might not eat enough and I’m not going to be there to…” She trailed off, staring at the cushion again as she tried to swallow her tears.

She heard him stand up and felt him settle on the couch beside her. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. You were fine last week.”

“Yeah, well…” She pulled on a loose thread. “Last week wasn’t the last time we were going to get to spend the day together until who knows when.”

“We’ll still be able to talk.” He rubbed her shoulder. “It won’t be so bad.”

Rei could no longer hold back her tears, and they broke free.

“No, no, no.” Taemin pulled her into a hug, kissing her hairline. “Rei, please don’t cry. I promise, you don’t need to worry. It’s not worth crying over.”

“I’m sorry. I promised I wouldn’t cry.” She sniffled.

“What? You promised who that you wouldn’t cry?”

“The boys.” She wiped her eyes. “They told me not to make this about me but I can’t keep it together.”

“Make what about you? Rei, what’s wrong?” He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

She swallowed. “I just wanted to make sure that we could have a good day. But I’m going to miss you so much and I’m so worried and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Trust me,” He brushed her hair back from her face. “I’d much rather hang out with sad Rei than one who’s pretending to be okay when she’s not.”

“I’m going to miss you.” She said quietly. “I love you.”

“I’m love you so much and I feel like I already miss you so much that it’s crazy.” He pulled her closer. “But I really don’t want you to be sad.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think we can help it.” Rei gave a small smile. “I’ve been told that I’m an overly emotional person.”

“By Chan?”

“Yeah.”

“I really don’t know if I like him.”

Rei snorted. “I always forget you don’t really know him. He’s fine. Once he finally grew out of hating me he’s really embraced the whole ‘tough-love’ mentality.”

“You aren’t going to need any tough-love, you’re going to need someone to snuggle with when I’m gone.” Taemin paused. “Platonically. I’d better still be your number one.”

Rei smiled. “Always.”

“Good.” He pulled her in for a kiss, and Rei let him distract her from her tears.

“On that note,” He said when he finally moved away. “I have a present for you.”

“Can I eat it?” She asked hopefully.

“No,” He laughed, standing from the couch and walking over to the kitchen counter. “But I’ll buy you food later. This is kind of a gift for you, and kind of a favour for me.”

“Ohh,” Rei sat up straighter. “Is it sexy?”

“Just take it,” He shook his head. “And don’t freak out.” He held out a piece of paper.

“Now I’m worried.” She leaned forward to take the paper. “What is…this looks like a lot of official writing.”

“It is.” He sat back on the couch.

Rei studied the document. There was a signature at the bottom, but it took her a minute to decipher the official documentation in Korean.

“This is about your apartment.” She said finally, scanning the page. His name and signature were at the bottom of the page, and next to it she recognized her own name in small font. “Why is my name on this?”

“There’s a spot for you to sign, too.” He pointed. “It’s an updated version of my lease.”

“What? You want to put me on your lease?” Rei dropped the paper into her lap. “What are you talking about.”

“I’m not going to be here, so I thought…” He trailed off.

Rei’s eyes widened. “I’m not moving in here. Especially when you’re not here. I live at the dorm with the guys.”

“I know.” Taemin said quickly. “That’s why I said it’s a favour to me. I need to have someone accessible on the lease when I’m away, and if you don’t do it, I’ll have to pick Key or something.”

“So you want me to be…your landlord?” Rei tilted her head.

Taemin chuckled. “I want you to put your name on the lease so that I have someone I trust taking care of the place, and you have somewhere you can go whenever you get sick of living with thirteen other people.”

Her panic gone, Rei felt her tears welling up again. “You want to put me on your lease?”

He nodded.

Rei let out a sound that was somewhere between a squeak and a scream and shoved the paper aside, tackling Taemin into a hug.

“I love you so much.” She smothered his face in kisses.

“I love you too.” He kissed her back. “So is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes.” She laughed. “This is easily the best gift you’ve ever given me.”

“I’m happy you like it.” Taemin wrapped his arms around her waist, sighing deeply. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“At least I’ll be able to show all of my army friends pictures of my super hot girlfriend. All of the other guys had to go in single.”

“Glad I can help you with that.” She deadpanned. “Should I send the nude photos via email or post?”

“Video message will do.” He laughed.

“Sure.” She rolled her eyes, leaning her head against his chest.

For a few long moments, they just held each other.

“Taemin?”

“Yeah?”

“Does this mean I can finally have the guys over here?” She settled back against his chest. “Because I’ve been telling them about the view from your balcony, and I just really think that –“

“Rei, you can have anyone over here that you want. I want this to feel like your…home away from home. You can do whatever you want.” He kissed the side of her face.

“Anything I want, huh?” Rei flipped around to look at him.

He narrowed his eyes. “We still have food on the table.”

“We’ll get more.”

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #seventeen 14th member #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #taemin imagine #kpop imagine

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weatheredlaw · 5 years ago

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spotting employment scams during covid times

hello there! some of you may be job hunting right now, looking for remote work, work from home options, etc. as someone who’s been doing this, i wanted to let you know that you’re absolutely going to be coming across a lot of questionable postings, so here are some tips for spotting them:

1. double check craigslist postings. i’ve come across several where i go back to confirm contact information and i find the post has been flagged for removal. often times, this means the job was bogus, and someone figured it out and went back and alerted the site.

2. if you get answers in your spam, read them carefully. i’ve gotten several responses back from people that have gone straight to my spam inbox. for me, this is pretty questionable. a company might indicate their information will go to your spam inbox, this could still be suspicious. just be cautious.

3. if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. i responded to a nicely worded work from home position and was told he would be paying me 1500 dollars every week. and while that sounds very very nice, it also is very unlikely. a legitimate employer will be paying you by the hour and will give you a set of hours you’ll be working. a lump sum of money is suspect, and likely being used to lure you in.

4. look up their names/contact info. i’ve gotten plenty of emails back that look and sound legitimate. they even have a photo of the person on the bottom. look that info up. if they have a phone number, search for it. i’ve dialed *67 and called a few numbers and found they’re absolutely not real numbers, or they only receive text messages. do not text, always call. also if they say they work for a business, look them up with your local Better Business Bureau. i kept getting ads for an “Expert Collections Agent Wanted”. everything about the ad was weird, so i applied with one of my lesser used email and got a response in about a minute. the website didn’t go anywhere, and my local BBB had five unresolved complaints.

5. no legit WFH/remote company will ask you to pay for a background check. this one is vital, because they can seem really legit all the way up to this point, and then they’ll ask you to pay for your own background check. do not do this. this is not something you should have to pay for. you don’t work for them, you should not be paying them anything.

6. please, please, please be on the lookout for MLM’s. flashy videos with young people talking about “the product” are trying to get YOU to buy the product and then hock it to your friends. and for the love of god, do NOT be tempted to join a known MLM. no one is buying essential oils, or make up, or protein powder, or lip gloss. they’re just not.

7. if you don’t know what business you’re applying for, it’s probably not legit. a lot of ads don’t have the company name in them, or any real identifying features. they say things like “do you want to be a part of a growing company with an amazing work environment?” and things to that effect. you should be able to know what company you’ll be potentially working for, who your employer will be, and how much money you’ll potentially be making.

remember, getting a job means giving them your address, social security number, and sometimes your routing number for direct deposit. i’m not trying to be alarmist or sound hyper-paranoid here, but there are people out there taking advantage of folks who are now out of work due to stay at home orders, and i want you all to be safe. again, i wish i had tips, ways you could find the legitimate employers, and best practices for job hunting in these times, but all i can do right now is pass on my experience and hopefully help you be able to weed out the fake postings that are currently flooding job postings right now. please be safe, i love you all. <3

#covid 19 tw #psa #really please be careful out there people are doing a lot of suspicious stuff #they're taking advantage of people looking for work #please be so so so so careful

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recklessmark · 4 years ago

Note

PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A CHEATING ANGST WHERE MARK IS BEING SUCH A JERK ABT IT EVEN THO Y/N CATCHES HIM CHEATING ON HER AND ALSO MAKE THE PERSON MARK IS CHEATING WITH MEAN TOO, those stories are really the best kind of angst - anon ❤️

words count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i have no mood for angst now i’m so sorry. this is not very miserable at all since i refused to let y/n cry pathetically in front of douchebag mark 😡 but hopefully you’ll like it.

you take a sip of your chardonnay, the other hand is still busy scrolling on your phone. your face puts on the best do-not-talk-to-me look while your fingers typing on the screen with a fast speed.

y/n: where are yo-

no, you delete the sentence.

y/n: can you pick me up after work?

delivered.

your fingers idly tap on the bar counter, flashing the bartender an encouraging smile as if you’re not currently having murder on your mind. after about less than 5 minutes, your phone buzzes on the marble surface and you take it in your hands again.

mark: i’m having meeting, i’ll probably stay over at my office either.

your lips curl into a crooked smile. executioner style.

y/n: you better sleep with one eye open tonight.

y/n:

you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure and delete the yet-to-be-sent message. all you’re seeing is red now. mark lee, your lovely boyfriend has the audacity to tell you he’s having a meeting. a two people meeting, one man one woman, in a hotel. little does the two-timing, cheap-lying wannabe know that you’re sitting at the bar of the hotel he takes his side chick in. and you have to clarify that either you and your friends have caught him hang out with other women multiple times but you, a faithful girlfriend, brainlessly believe in him and maybe he will change. the only thing has changed ever since is his loyalty to you, wondrously decreases.

you leave a tip under your glass and jump of the stool. you turn at the corner, walking inside the hotel building. unfortunate for mark is that you have some work here, otherwise you couldn’t catch the sight he wrapped his arm around a girl and walked into the hotel. but work can be done later.

“good evening, how can i help you?” the receptionist greets you politely and you give her a smile. “y/f/n y/l/n, i have a business meeting with mr grey.”

the woman nods and types something on the laptop while you rake your eyes around the building. “floor 8, room 805, ms y/l/n.”

you smile in acknowledgment and turn around to walk away. “oh,” you put on a fake gape and glare back and the receptionist, “may i ask where’s mr lee’s room, i have to take something from him. mark lee please.”

she looks confused but obliges your command anyway. “floor 8, room 802.” you give her a “thank you” and stroll toward the elevator. god must be unpleasant with mark so that his room is on the same floor with yours. you take your phone out and decide to reply the previous message of him.

y/n: i have a meeting at imperial building either, we can go home together.

delivered.

adrenaline and rage rushing inside your veins as the monitor screen displays the red number 8. you take your steps slowly, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor reverberates around the empty floor.

801-805

seeing the gold banner on the wall, you turn at the corner. your head dizzy as you think about what’s happening inside the 802 room. standing in front of the wide wooden door, you decisively press your finger on the doorbell. just once and patiently wait for someone to open the door. although every room is soundproof but you can hear a small voice from the inside after about two minutes, you’re not complaining though, you have big heart for patience.

a ‘genuine’ smile plasters on your face as the door flings opened, revealing a woman- your coworker surprisingly and she only has a towel wrapped around her body. “hi,” you say and walk inside before she could process anything that’s going on. “where’s mark? mark lee.” you ask and opposite of your nonchalance, she makes a quite smart decision to throw a tantrum.

“what the hell y/n?! if you know he doesn’t even like you anymore why are you here? he will never go home so don’t cry and beg for it!”

“where’s ma-“ you calmly repeat yourself and suddenly you see your boyfriend gets out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his hips either. his toned chest and abs look nice but they’ll be better if there’s some bullets shot through. “oh mister executioner, i was wondering where you are.”

mark gapes as he sees you, apparently hasn’t read your new message. he heard haven - his side chick was yelling and he was curious what she’s so frantic about. and now he understands.

you sit down at the cafe table and cross your legs. “you may speak now.” you flash him a reluctant smile.

“speak what? he has nothing to explain-“

“look,” mark cuts haven off and starts his meaningless explanation, “i don’t love you anymore, you’re always busy and your spare time is for work either!”

“my spare time is for work?!” you exclaim, “you are the one who fucking cancel all our dates and hangs out with your side chicks! you think i’m stupid that i’m totally clueless about what you do behind my back?” your voice is shaky yet you try to keep it as steady as possible. you’re not going to cry in front of him and his bitch.

“you call who’s a side chick?” haven yells, pointing her finger at you and you dart your eyes at her, “i’m not talking to you, don’t let me lose the tiny respect i’m still having for you. we’re both women and we work together, i don’t want to be rude.”

“you’re fucking fake as hell-“

“shut up,” mark shouts, making the woman shut her mouth and then turns back to you. “don’t act like you’re not flirting with other men at work, you’re a whore!” he says loudly and you’re practically speechless.

mark calls you a whore.

“since when i flirt with men?” you ask in a calm, quiet tone. you have completely no idea what he’s talking about because you’re certain that you only keep a professional and friendly relationship with any man you know except of mark.

“haven sent me a lot of photos of you and other guys,” he remarks and now you understand, your eyes give your shameless coworker a death stare as she’s avoiding your gaze. “who has the interest in this affair first?”

“me,” mark responds. now he knows how to he honest. “i like her first.”

you let out a chuckle unexpectedly, “so you like hannah, sophia, iris and my best friend as well?” it’s unbelievable that you still have faith in this man even though he hit on your best friend once and she’s already warned you about it.

as mark can’t say anything to defend himself, you stand up, “i’ll pack up your things and send it to your address. don’t ever walk into my place again.” you give him the last peck on his thin lips and walk away but not before giving your coworker a reminder.

“you’ve heard what i said, i hope you’re not the one who chooses to be stupid now.”

slamming the door close, you let out a heavy breath, feeling you’re about to stumble on your weak knees. you love mark so much that it blinds you, no matter how many times you saw him with other women, you still pretended to be clueless. you keep him beside you since you think that he will change but it’s just your one-way deduction which unfortunately could not be true. you hold back the tears in your watering eyes, you will cry when you’re home, not before you get your work done.

#mark lee #nct mark #mark blurbs #mark boyfriend #mark imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark scenarios #nct imagines #nct mark lee #nct x reader #mark x reader #nct angst #mark angst #nct drabbles #nct u scenarios #nct scenarios #mark lee angst #requests

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bakugohoex · 4 years ago

Text

“we’re you two...from the future”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: language, violence, fluff

word count: 3800+

a/n: umm sorry for not posting requests, im getting through them all, so hopefully they’ll all be done by the end of the month

summary: in which you and bakugo sneak out intending to go see some stars but are met with the unlikliest of people, explaining their situation, you end up fighting alongside them, and realising just how far your relationship will go with the blond

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

You laid sprawled against Bakugo, his finger flicking through Tiktok which you had forced him to get. One hand playing in your hair whilst he did so, you were reading some manga that had come out for your favourite series. It was a peaceful mood between the two of you, no shouting, no anger just the sound of the soft music playing from your speakers and the Tiktok sounds off of Bakugo.

His rough hands felt warm in your hair, massaging the scalp occasionally which gave you a burst of love. He looked down dropping his phone to the side as he watched you read. The way your eyes would crease when a serious panel was occurring or loosen when something more joyful happened.

“Stop staring, it’s creepy.” You muttered playfully.

He scowled at you, letting go of your hair and moving his legs to make you fall on the bed. “That’s what you get for calling me creepy.”

Chuckling at the boy you drop the manga to the side, moving back between his legs as you rested your head against his chest. He wrapped his hands around your waist and put his chin on top of your head as he let you on his phone.

The boy who had no apps and only cared about the health one. It worried you and forcing him to get Tiktok had made him hate his phone even more due to spending a whole night just scrolling without realising.

“I heard there’s a new exhibition opening up tonight, we should sneak out and go.” Your soft voice contrasted his much louder one. It was angelic almost feeling like he was around an unearthly presence when you were around.

He raises an eyebrow at the thought, “if it’s another shitty exhibition then were not going.”

“It’s not, they’re doing a midnight watch the stars thing.” He smiled watching you try to find the article but unable to. The photo on his home screen reminding him of how much he actually did love spending time with you.

Another late-night outing to get ice cream and it was a photo of the both of you watching the sunset. It was cute enough, but he’d hate if anybody saw it and tarnished his reputation as confident and independent which you’d often refer to as being a dick.

“Yeah, yeah we’ll go then.” He sounded bored of the situation, but you knew him better than anybody through the unamusement he was melting inside. He would get to watch the stars with his love, and he wouldn’t have to worry about anything else.

Midnight arises quicker than usual, Bakugo was normally asleep by 8pm so nobody bothered to question him leaving early. And you, well he’d probably want you beside him, so nobody questioned that either.

Instead you were met by the balcony, Bakugo’s arms around you as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both had done this too many times to count, you guessed Aizawa knew and didn’t care. As long as you two came back safe than everything would be fine.

The fall from the balcony sent a rush of wind through your hair as Bakugo’s quirk activated and you felt yourself in the air. He had gotten used to using his quirk to fly and was able to do it with a lot more ease and precision. If you let, go you’d be a goner and he’d probably have to save you.

Seeing his lips twitch he was trying to suppress a smile but instead he stayed stoic as usual. Inside his heart was aching at how you looked in the air. It was his favourite time with you, the way you looked so utterly magnificent in the air. It was a true sight for sore eyes for the blond.

Finally landing, you felt the ground under you wobbling a bit. Bakugo grabbed you which helped you a lot more than you realised. His arms holding you upright just as you two were outside the exhibition hall.

Seeing the line, he sees your bright smile and heavy breaths through the air. “i want a good seat.” You take his hand dragging him towards the line as you both stood and waiting in line.

You could hear the line shuffle before hearing a familiar voice behind you. “Baby, we always miss the midnight showings, come on whilst we’re here.”

It sounded too familiar even, like it was your own. You were about to turn around to see but felt Bakugo drag you forward. The voice ringed through your head, it could’ve just been your imagination, but it was weird. It felt like an echo of the future.

The hall was almost empty, a lot more people had bought tickets to the other exhibitions rather than the planetarium one which made it a lot better for the two of you. Underneath the stars alone would be perfect especially if Bakugo could freely watch you as well.

“Two tickets to the planetarium.” Bakugo had already bought the tickets inside but the sound of the same voice again was heard. Trying to look back to see, people had begun crowding around to get other essentials, mostly food. The person was no longer visible, and you turned to face Bakugo.

“What’s wrong?” He crossed his arms waiting for an answer.

“I keep hearing someone, she...she sounds like me.” He comes closer giving you a look before hugging you.

“It’s probably your imagination, it’s late that’s why, come on dumbass.” He let’s go of you right at the end of his talk and takes your hand. Kissing the back to bring some comfort.

You both walk in seeing an almost empty room. It was midnight on a Tuesday you didn’t really expect a lot of people but nobody really.

Both you and Bakugo sat on the back row. It was the perfect sear for him to watch the stars but also see how beautiful you looked under the white light. The sound of more people coming brought relief that this event would still occur. Bakugo’s hand rested on top of yours he watched out how there was only natural light from outside but even then, the moon did little against the darkness.

“Just sit down, we can’t be worrying about seats.” You heard the voice again and this time it seemed closer than usual, almost next to you.

Bakugo’s thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. A comfort but as you turned to finally meet the woman you were met with a heavy shock. A scream belched through the room, everybody had gone silent, Bakugo in an instant was up ready to fight whoever it was.

“Bakugo.” The two of you shouted, the woman in front of you looked at you with cares as you looked back at her. The same eyes, same nose, same mouth, hell even the hair was a bit longer for her, but it was there. And the voice, the same shout for your loves.

“Y/n.” This time the two guys who had been standing up ready to see what had happened had spoken and this time a confusion settled between the four of you.

“Outside now.” The blond said, it sounded exactly like your Bakugo but didn’t. Rougher around the edges an even deeper voice. But it couldn’t be, the two had gotten up scurrying outside and you followed.

Apologising to the others as you left, the opened the doors again and were met with the inside of the yellow lamps. It helped to see better and this time you and Bakugo had a full view of the two.

Your eyes widened at her, the hero costume exactly like yours but more seductive, professional even was around her. She stared back at you, the younger her, the one who hadn’t experienced what was to come.

The two men stood in front of each other, Bakugo’s winter outfit on the much taller man. You had remained the same height, but it seemed Bakugo had grown to over 6ft and his much smaller self looked with a snarl. But even then, he looked the same, the same look of disgust, the piercing scarlet eyes along with the same hero costume. He may look more built and even more intimidating but having her beside him making him look almost sweet like a lost puppy and she was his master.

“It can’t be.” You whispered out.

“Oh but it is.” The woman spoke out, “i missed that ugly haircut you used to have.”

She had said it to Bakugo’s older self who remarked back a scowl and crossed arms, something your own was doing himself, “I grew out of the Pomeranian look dumbass.”

“What the fuck shitty woman? Fucking explain what this is.” Bakugo growled, he was annoyed and confused two emotions he hated being.

You went to grab his hand and he became a lot more settled at that touch. “Did i really only settle down if you were there?” The older Bakugo muttered, he had more of an undercut but even then, you could tell it was Bakugo.

“Yeah, you were a pussy back then.” The older him glared at her, she glared back but even then, he softly pushed her to the side. “Fucking twat.”

“Don’t fucking swear in front of kids.” You and Bakugo stood in confusion at the squabble going on between the older versions of yourself.

“If you hurt me ill wake up from this horrible nightmare.” You kept whispering but even then, it was real.

The two-stop fighting and looked back at the both of you. “Let’s get ice cream, you’re paying.” She pointed at the version of Bakugo before taking your hand. “We have so much to explain.”

“Her younger self was so much better why’d she have to fucking grow up.” The older version spoke with a pissed off tone, he watched the two walk away before looking at his younger self. “The hair was shit, kid.”

“What the fuck, shut up old man, and stop talking about my girlfriend like that.” Your Bakugo remarked back, always the hot head.

The ice cream shop was only a few minutes away and both the older versions of yourself went to order. “Katsuki, what the fuck is happening?”

“They’re us Y/n.”

You pushed his arm which went back around the back of the booth. It skimmed back and forth onto your shoulder as you leaned into his side. “Way to state the obvious.”

“They could be villains, who have some sort of transformation quirk, whatever it is, the first sign of danger I’ll kill them.” Bakugo looked outside, he felt your soft fingers on his thigh out of reassurance that he was real.

The two came back with a tray of both your favourite ice cream. “We did like this when we were kids right?” She said to her Bakugo, he shrugged picking the ice cream and taking a bite of it.

“Who are you two?” You questioned taking the ice cream and mixing it with your plastic spoon to become softer. You watched the older version do the exact same thing and knew it couldn’t have been a villain.

“Younger you sure was fucking unaware.” The older Bakugo spoke a loud.

“Don’t be a twat.” She hit his arm, making him wrap his arm around her as well.

It was like an exact copy of you two on each side and it felt eerie. “We need proof you ain’t villains, if you are, I’ll kill you both.”

“We understand that but let us explain what happened first Katsuki.” She spoke his name with the same love and ease, it felt too familiar to him, like he had heard it so many times before.

You nod starting to lick at the spoon as you waited to hear, “quick version, we were trying to catch this villain, he has a quirk that can send people back in time, and the fucking asshole sent us back in time.”

You smiled at the older boy, how similar Bakugo remained in the future. How he still had the same look of disgust but when looking at you, he saw hope and love. “That’s a shitty explanation.” She continued, “he sends people back in time and follows them to kill their past self to create a loophole.” She plays with the spoon taking a hesitant pause, “we’re you two...from the future.”

“You two idiots got caught.” Bakugo began laughing as if he was making fun of your classmates before he realised. “Wa...” Bakugo kicked under the table at his older self, “you got fucking caught you dumbass.”

“It’s fine, it only lasts an hour, that’s why normally those who get sent back come back to their time but then begin to disintegrate as there younger selves died.”

“We would’ve heard about these cases.” You were confused at how this hadn’t been mainstream news.

“With no culprit, it won’t make the headlines.” She licked the spoon before setting the container onto the table. “Any questions?”

“I don’t believe I’d be that much of a dumbass to get caught, prove you’re us.” Bakugo proposed, his hands had been playing in your hair and he really wanted to imagine this was some kind of dream he was in.

“God kids are fucking annoying, remind me to never give you one.”

“He’s you.” You and your older self-speak in unison and the look of horror at the angry boy in front of him was something else.

“You better not get her pregnant at...” Bakugo mutters seeing your older self, he sees the beauty you retain. How you look like a goddess to him and how you always still remain his love.

“26.” She says smiling happily.

“Are you two married?” You ask, hoping something had occurred by now.

She goes through her pockets, the boy next to her doing the same before finding what she’s looking for. A silver band with a crystal in the middle. it was beautiful, Bakugo’s own having something inscribed on it.

“Engaged.” She shows the ring to you on her finger, it fitted her finger perfectly. Your fingers perfectly. Your Bakugo looked at the sight, he had gotten the courage to do it, to make you permanently his. You both would last forever.

Bakugo coughs to try and get out of his happiness and go back to his angry self. “Go on then, ask us the shitty questions?”

“Why were you at that event?”

His older self looking at her before rolling his eyes leaning back on the booth, “her and her obsession with the stars.”

“We had to time to kill.” She elbows his side making him give a glare to the woman. Not his normal disgusted one but one that you all knew he was joking and mocking the woman.

“What are you both in the Hero Charts?” That was the question Bakugo really cared about; he didn’t need proof anymore he just wanted to know if he made it to the top.

“I’m 5th and umm, Suki...” She let him speak, you were happy to be in the top ten that was an achievement, but you could tell the words that would come out of his older self would not be happy ones.

Before any words could come out the sound of lightening sprung out through the street. “It can’t be, he said he wouldn’t bother killing our younger selves why is he here?” She said seeing the man in the dark black cloak. “He said he just needed us gone for an hour, why is he here?”

“He’s the asshole who sent you back, let’s go capture him then.” Your Bakugo got up and but was stopped by himself.

“You’re a child, I’m not letting myself go out there and die.”

“Let go of me old man.” The tension between the two was thick enough to cut through. But there were bigger issues at hand here. The sound of the villain prowling the street, a menace ready to attack.

“You two are staying fucking put.” Bakugo’s older self-looked tired, it was in his eyes, you could see it, the years getting to the pro hero but at the sight of your older self running out, he followed.

Bakugo tried to get up but you put your arm out to stop him, “wait.”

“Y/n, I’m not letting our future selves die out there.” He grumbled swatting your hand away.

“I want to see how they work together, how we work together.” Of course you and Bakugo had fought alongside each other, but watching them, it would show the progress, your aim and how far you had gotten.

“Hiding your younger selves won’t help you both.” The villain remarked, his hand in the ready with a knife.

She grabbed a hold of him with her quirk smashing him into a wall. The way he indented the wall showed you the sheer amount of strength you had with your quirk. Your ability to not only move him with your hand but also put enough force onto the wall to break around him.

Bakugo’s hands turned yellow, you could almost see the power seethe from him, your own looking at himself, watching intentively at how his explosions had become bigger and bigger in his palm. Even without the gauntlets he had power, an excessive amount that fuelled his rage. He began to attack whilst she remained on defence, but the villain just skimmed past the explosion charging at her.

She grabbed the discarded bricks from the floor bringing your hands up to make them float and tried to encase him, but his pure strength outweighed her own as you could see him nearing her through the window. You ran out, Bakugo running with you as the four of you stood. “I told you to brats to stay inside.” His older version shouted, fire fulling him as he attacked the man who neared you. Your own allowed his quirk to activate and this in turn led to fire and explosions burning the street at how both tried to stop the villain.

You ran up to the older woman, she looked at you with care, “I’m going to teach you something.” She grabbed your hands, and you could feel a warmth from between your fingers. “Think of the rubble, the discarding bricks, anything that has broken off Y/n.”

You did so staring into her eyes, the pools of depth seeping out as she spoke with such confidence. “Keep thinking about it.” You did, thinking of the fallen rubble and discarded bricks and when you opened your eyes, it was up in the air. Both your quirks coming together to allow for it all to surround you both. You both saw the two boys hit the villain missing the reckless knife and knew that the villain was out of breathe from the force of it all.

But now there was you two, and in an instant, she shouted at you, “push it all onto him.” You followed through, everything felt heavy under the movement of your fingers, you could see her own becoming ashy and scarred but she kept a hold of the majority of the weight. You felt the weight of it all and as you pushed it onto the villain, Bakugo’s older self grabbing him to move out of the way. The villain became trapped onto the wall, the two boys came up to you both as they both went to their respective partner. “Are you okay?”

It was in unison and they both grabbed your hands, the ash and spilt skin between your fingers was evident. The action was the same and you knew it would never change, your older self turned to face you both as she glared. “You shouldn’t have come out but thank you.”

“You both did okay, it doesn’t mean anything though, you’ve both got far to go.”

“Shut it old man.” Your Bakugo grinned out, his arm around your shoulder lazily.

His older self tilted his head back in a chuckle before grabbing her hand. “We’re running out of time.”

“But we still have so many questions.” You were hesitant to ask before but now working alongside the two pro heroes you wanted to know more.

“We’ve got two minutes make it fast.” They both walked towards the villain, grabbing the unconscious body from the side. The excessive heat from both the Bakugo’s had caused fires and you could hear the police and heroes come to see the scuffle. Walking into an alleyway, you both stood in front of your selves.

“I guess I only have one question.” You looked at Bakugo and he looked back at you, his hand resting on your shoulder bringing warmth to you.

“Are we happy?” Bakugo held you tighter and the two smiled at you.

His older self began talking, kicking the villain to make him shut up. “There’s ups and down, a lot more to come but we’re happy, aren’t we?”

“We are.” He smiles at her, love in his eyes, even after 10 years of being together there was still love and adoration for her. It was something Bakugo had for you, but it had intensified along the years. It was almost too beautiful, there eyes on one another, how perfectly they fit together, it was perfect.

“Well I guess this is goodbye, have fun and…” You trailed off as Bakugo’s older self interrupted.

“Don’t do anything stupid, and wear a con…” Before he could finish the three disappeared and you and Bakugo were left alone in the alleyway. A confusion between the two of you as you both walked out of the alleyway.

“That was weird.” You muttered grabbing the boys palms.

“You’ve got that right, stupid old man bossing us about.”

“Did you just indirectly call yourself stupid?” You laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever at least I know your mine forever now.” He spoke softer, something he did when around you as you both walked through the street. The darkness around you as you had walked the opposite direction of where the fire had occurred.

“You’re such a sap.” You chuckled tilting your head backwards, he saw how strong you’d become, and it lightened a fire in how you both were so utterly in love, a perfect pro hero couple.

He held your hand tighter giving a glare, “you’re the fucking sap, baby.”

“Let’s watch the stars.” You hummed having ignored the comment and dragging him up the hill where you could lay on the grass and look right up to the sky.

“Yeah, yeah.” He held your hand tighter before you dropped to the ground and he sat beside you. You laid down looking at that the speckles of white throughout the hues of black and blue. A sight to the say the least and as you stared at the sky all he could do was stare at you. His girl, his love, his future.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki

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songbirdstyles · 4 years ago

Text

sparks

summary: you’re a music journalist assigned to covering one of harry styles’ gigs, and he’s absolutely smitten with you. (part one.)

warnings: slight fluff, excessive liberties taken about music journalism; smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters

word count: 8.2k

inspo.: almost famous - cameron crowe; sparks - the who; hello, i love you - the doors

You’d never truly gotten a big assignment before - sure, you’d gotten a few pieces here and there detailing local LA bands that you knew would never live to see more than 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and they mostly ended up buried by your higher-ranking coworker’s higher end stories on the front covers - and, for the most part, you’d honestly been fine with it. You’re fresh out of college, the newest recruit to your company and your colleagues who are sent out to tour with big bands and artists have been here for years, some even decades, and you suppose they deserve the opportunities more than you, don’t they?

You work your way up, your boss had told you the first day you’d started working, following him around like an eager puppy as he showed you the office. Eventually - if I’m impressed with you - you’ll get something big.

It’s enough for you. Small bands playing in hole-in-the-wall clubs and restaurants may not be the exact thing you’d envisioned when you’d set your sights on being a music journalist but it’s worked out well for you so far, hasn’t it? You’ve made friends - even dated the lead singer of an underground rock band who cheated on you hardly two weeks into the relationship - and your portfolio is slowly building, stacked with exposés and detailed recounts of small gigs that you’d watched from backstage. Eventually, you’ll leave this company and move on to something bigger, like Rolling Stone, and your career will take off until you’re practically the face of music journalism.

And, really, those dreams have carried you through college and the first year of your career, putting your all into every article and every piece just so your boss can tug you into his office one day with a rarely-seen grin to finally tell you -

“I want you to write an article on Harry Styles.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in the cushy office seat that your boss has for guests in his office. It’s a facade that you’ve learned to acknowledge, because, no matter how much he makes it look like he appreciates guests in his office, you know he regards you as nothing more than an interloper, even if he’d invited you there to begin with. “Harry Styles?”

“You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” Mike asks, light shining off his bald head, and your mouth opens and closes a few times uselessly.

“Of course I have!” You push yourself to sit up straighter in your seat, staring up at your boss with shock written in every feature of your face. You, writing about Harry Styles? God, you nearly want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. “Write an article about - about what?”

Mike scoffs in that pretentious way that makes you hate ever having to talk to him, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “He’s coming to do a few shows along the West Coast. You can go to one or two - talk to him a bit, talk to his band - you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With small bands, sure - Tacocat and - and the Mystery Lights -” You swallow thickly, and Mike stares down at you in your seat like he’s unimpressed with your enthusiasm, or lack thereof. And it’s not that you aren’t executed - but, Christ. Going from bands performing in underground clubs to Harry Styles is like going straight from crawling to flying a fucking plane and you’re not sure if any of your experience with the musical locality in LA could prepare you for that. “I mean, that’s huge, Mike.”

“It is huge,” Mike confirms, crossing his thick arms over his chest, leaning against the desk before you as though he’s immune to sitting in his seat behind his desk like a normal boss. “Do you not want to do it? Because Melissa, you know - she’d love to, was going on and on about it last week -”

“No!” Your cheeks flush at the volume your voice raises to, and if you didn’t know better you could swear you see the ghost of a grin on Mike’s face. “I want to, Mike, I really want to - it’s just crazy.” There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, your boss nodding smugly down at you as you struggle for words, before you ask the question burning the tip of your tongue with its desire to be heard. “But - why me? I’m sure you have people more qualified for it -”

“Easy,” Mike says, cutting you off and you’d be annoyed in any other instance but you’re too desperate to hear his answer. “Look, Harry’s a young guy. Younger than anyone else our people have interviewed - I think he’ll respond more to a young, pretty girl like yourself than someone older than him.”

Well, that makes sense, you suppose. The only coworker even close to you in age is Melissa, and she’s pushing 30 as it is. You’re 23 - graduated college just over a year ago, and by far the newest recruit this company has taken in years - but you had always imagined that was the main reason you wouldn’t get many big articles, and here it’s the main factor in you getting what will surely be the highlight of your portfolio once you apply to Rolling Stone. An interview with Harry Styles - God, they’ll probably foam at the mouth when they see it, and a grin spreads across your face as you think of it.

“Is that a yes?” Mike questions, blonde eyebrows raised high and nearly disappearing into his scalp.

“Of course,” you respond without another moment of hesitation, and you push yourself to stand, office chair rolling behind you with the force, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thump. “Yes - of course - of course.”

“Great.” And he crosses to the other side of his desk, pushing aside a few loose papers and folders on his desk, and you clutch your hands in front of your stomach as you watch him, practically bouncing up and down with uncontained joy and fear bubbling inside of you. The last time you’d felt like this was the first time you got a real assignment - more than just ranking songs and discussing new album releases - and you’d been sent to a strip club to cover a gig from an up-and-coming band. Back then, you’d never expected to ever feel more excited over anything in your life, and yet, here you are, eight months later, fighting back the urge to burst into joyful tears. “They come in a week - I’ll send you the address - if you need help with your questions -”

“I’ll ask Francine,” you finish the same advice he gives you every time you’re assigned an article, referring to your oldest coworker - a little old woman who’s been with the company since the 70s. She’s always been more than willing to help you with your assignments but this - you need to do this by yourself. “Thank you so much, Mike, this is - this is great.”

“Don’t let me down,” he says, pointing his finger at you, and you nod furiously. “I’m trusting you on this - it’s a big opportunity.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you promise, holding up your crossed fingers just to show him how much you mean it, and you know it’s the truth - you’ll make this piece the best damn one this company has ever seen if it’s the last thing you ever do.

The night begins a bit - rocky, to say the least.

For one, you couldn’t decide what to wear, even after spending nearly a half hour trying on every variation of clothes in your closet and tossing them onto the floor of your studio apartment when they didn’t satisfy your needs. In the past you’d worn to gigs what you’d wear if you were a simple concertgoer, albeit a bit more modestly, but you can’t decide what you would wear to a Harry Styles concert if you got the regular chance to - and you’d never even dreamt that it would happen in the first place -

Well, you peruse your closet intently and land on a pair of patterned flare pants and a long sleeve sweater. It only seems fitting for the chilly weather outside, and you fold a shirt into your bag in case you need to change if it gets hot backstage. You’re not dressed to impress, necessarily - you’re dressed to get a job done, as Mike would always say, but how could you be expected to not attempt to impress Harry Styles? It’s a preposterous idea. You’re sure anyone would understand.

Journalism pass - phone - keys - deodorant - when you’ve checked your bag over three times to ensure you have everything necessary you finally leave, locking your door shut behind you and ordering an Uber to take you to the concert.

You hadn’t anticipated Uber and Lyft being absolutely overloaded with patrons due to the concert just a half hour away and you need to be there by 6:30 at the very latest to ensure you get in and can at least talk to Harry before he goes on - a quarter of your questions are geared towards how he feels pre show and you can’t get pre show questions after the show - that’s barbaric. But the minutes inch closer to 5:30 and your Uber driver is still ten minutes away and your heart beats so fast against your chest you think you might vomit right into the street in front of your building -

You’re in the car by 5:45. It’s not ideal, and you know you’re cutting it close, but hopefully you’ll be there before the soundcheck ends. It’s always an ideal time to take photos, watching the band warm up and check mics, and with a piece like this, you need all the opportunities for pictures you can get.

And traffic is horrible - you suppose that’s also to be expected, and your Uber driver curses in a language you can’t recognize as cars cut him off on the highway and if you were a different person, you’d recommend a shortcut he takes, but he doesn’t look like he wants to hear a single word come from your mouth. He had given you a dirty look when you entered the car, and that’s enough to make you shut up and pray for the entire car ride that you make it on time.

6:27. Mike would piss himself if he knew how close you cut it, and you hop out of the car with a speed you didn’t even know you could muster, pushing past the buzzing crowd standing in front of the main entrance. The hoard of people seems to have a steady heartbeat, pulsing with excitement much like your own, and you can’t help but smile as you make your way around the group, goosebumps cropping up over your skin as your teeth chatter in the coldness. For a moment you fear that the directions to the backstage entrance that Mike had given you were total bullshit - but then you see the door, blocked by a burly security guard that glowers at you as you walk up to him like you’re something sticky beneath his shoe.

“Hi!” you call, breath exploding in a white cloud in front of you in the cool night air. The security guard smells so strongly of booze that you need to try harder than you’d care to admit not to scrunch your nose - you cough softly. “Let me - um - find my pass - I’m with Autoamerican, the magazine?”

Fingers grab onto your journalism pass, deep within your bag, and you tug it out, flashing it to the security guard with a slightly nervous grin. All of the gigs you’d been to before hadn’t even had backstage doors - to get backstage, you just had to climb onto the stage and walk behind the wings - but this is a fucking stadium, not just a measly club, and a big one, at that. In your youth you’re sure you could recall your dad watching a football game that occurred in this very stadium - funny how life turns out, sometimes.

“Autoamerican?” the security guard questions, bringing his face closer to your badge as the wafting smell of alcohol increases, and he raises his eyebrows with a scoff. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh.” you pause, feeling your teeth beginning to chatter in the cool February air. You’re not quite sure what to say - you’d assumed Mike had called to arrange the entire thing, hadn’t he? And this is the time you’re supposed to be here - “well, we’re not as big as Rolling Stone magazine, but - we’ve done interviews with The Cure, The Smiths - even Zeppelin, at one point -”

Your voice trails off into silence. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like you’re some innocent teenage girl, trying to bribe your way backstage so you can bombard the artist and not a fully grown woman here on business, goddammit. And you’re not sure what to say - he doesn’t believe you, clearly, and you hadn’t anticipated that even as you listed all the ways tonight could go wrong.

“Look, kid,” he begins, and that really has your blood boiling, eyes narrowing to glare at him. “We get this all the time. I’m a journalist - I’m with the crew - it’s a bunch of bullshit. Now go to the front with your general admission tickets like the rest of them -”

“I have a pass - I’m a journalist!”

“Sure -”

“I can call my boss if you want proof!”

And before you can reach into your bag to search relentlessly for your phone to follow through on the promise like you intend to, the door the man is guarding suddenly swings open, nearly hitting the guard in the ass as it opens out. You take a step back as dim light from inside floods the darkness, and a man steps out of the doorway, his eyes darting between you and the security guard.

“Are you with Autoamerican?” the man questions, raising his finger to point at you as though he could be speaking to anyone else. You nod furiously, and you hold up your journalism pass again just to prove it. “You can come inside, then - c’mon, Steve, she’s got a pass, for God’s sake -”

And you can’t resist flashing the guard a smug smile as he steps to the side to let you inside, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that all you can see is a strip of white.

The man lets you inside and the door shuts behind you, and you nearly knock straight into a second security guard standing by the door inside, as though trying to stop people from going out. And, well - you’ve been backstage at more concerts than you could count but this is certainly bigger, better, bustling with people carrying equipment and makeup artists and more people you couldn’t possibly identify. You’re half inclined to reach into your bag and grab your notebook to jot down exactly what you’re seeing so you can make sure to include it in the article, but you have a distinct feeling you’ll never forget it.

“I’m Jeff,” the man tells you, already setting off through the people, and you’re quick to follow, trying to maintain your pace beside him. After a second of walking in silence you realize he’s waiting for you to say yours - you clear your throat and introduce yourself, and he sends you a smile. “The band just finished their soundcheck, if you’d like to have a word with them before they go on - what’s the article about, anyway?”

Jeff shoulders the two of you through lingering groups of people until you emerge into a small hallway lined with doors, and you can hear bustling noise coming from the one closest to you - holy shit, is that Harry?

“Um - just about the shows, the tour, how everything’s going. My boss basically told me to do what I want with it, so I’ll have a better idea once I speak to the band.” It’s the loosest instruction you’ve ever been given for a piece - you’d expected a clear cut outline - but perhaps with an artist this big, Mike trusts you to know what to write. “It likely won’t be anything too personal, but I’d love to get a chance to speak with Harry before and after.”

“Sounds great,” and you can tell he’s stressed - you wonder if he’s always anxious before his client’s shows, or if there’s something special about tonight that has him worried - and then he reaches past you, twisting the doorknob closest to you and holding the door open for you to enter before him, and you give him a gracious smile before walking in.

The room isn’t as crowded with people as you’d expected but they’re bustling with energy - a woman and a man, holding a guitar, lean against the wall with each other - two other women sip water bottles, laughing loudly amongst each other - another woman leans above someone, their body hidden from view except for their legs, covered in silk, floral printed pants -

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff shuts the door behind you both, and the sound of the door clicking shut draws far more attention to yourself than you’d expected - it seems like every pair of eyes lands on you and Jeff, and you’d decided on being a music journalist to keep away from being the center of attention. You’ve always preferred being behind the scenes, a bit, at least until your career progresses until you’re a household name for music journalism, and now -

You feel very much in the scenes, eyes on you as Rhiannon plays in the background.

And then Jeff is tapping you on your shoulder, leading you around the room to the small groups of people lingering - you shake hands with Mitch and Sarah, the couple against the wall, and the rest of his band, and they’re so nice your smile feels like it’s going to break your face in half. You’ll need to interview them at some point - nothing too intense, and you may not even need to, if Harry’s answers are satisfactory enough - and you can already feel yourself building a strange sort of rapport with the band, their kindness rubbing off on you until you practically glide beside Jeff to the woman bent over Mr. Floral Pants, whose identity you’re fairly certain you’ve already deduced.

It doesn’t make it any more surprising when the woman steps aside where she’s carefully applying powder to the man’s face, and then Harry fucking Styles is staring up at her with a smile and an outstretched hand, suit jacket matching the floral pattern of his pants. His curls are carefully slicked back from his face, skin matte with the powder the woman resumes applying to the side of his face that isn’t turned to you, and you swallow your shock before reaching to shake his hand, Rhiannon turning into Hello, I Love You, playing from a source you can’t identify.

“Nice t’meet you,” Harry says when you’ve told him your name and the magazine you work for - Jeff had already mentioned it, but it is customary to repeat it to whomever you may have to interview. “Y’know, I love Autoamerican - told Jeff, s’the only magazine I’d let interview me backstage. Don’t usually allow it.”

“Really?” your stomach flips as Harry stops bouncing his arm, but it takes just another half second for him to untwine his hand from yours - you’re sure it’s because the makeup artist fretting above him is using her thumb to wipe off powder from his nose, but it still makes your heart thump faster against your chest. “I assumed most people haven’t heard of it - it’s nowhere near Rolling Stone.”

“I love it,” he insists, dropping your hand, and he looks so casual, as if this interaction isn’t blowing up your entire life, and you’re brought back to the many moments you’d spent as a teenager fawning over him in his One Direction days - God, this feels like a dream, and you’re half inclined to pinch yourself in case it is. Maybe you’ll wake up in Mike’s office to him giving you another shitty underground LA band to interview. “The interview with Sublime s’great - read it all the time.”

You swallow thickly, grin spreading wider across your face, and before you can open your mouth to tell him about Francine’s go-to story about how Eric Wilson had flirted with her while she interviewed them for the story, Jeff interjects - “Steve hadn’t even heard of it.”

“Steve’s an idiot,” Harry starts, and you giggle - his lips lilt upwards just a bit. “Hope he wasn’t hasslin’ you ‘bout it.”

“Just a little,” you say, hoisting your bag further up your shoulder just as the makeup artist drops the powder back into the apron slung around her waist, and her manicured nails tilt Harry’s head around for a moment before she seemingly deems his makeup satisfactory before leaving, sending you a tight lipped smile as she goes. “I’d love to ask you a few questions before the show - nothing too heavy - and then I’ll observe the concert and how everything goes, ask a few questions after.”

“Sounds great,” Harry responds, lifting his fist with his thumb up and you didn’t think your heartbeat could grow any faster or louder but you suppose today is just proving you wrong time and time again. “D’you need t’record m’answers? S’a bit loud in here.”

The truth is, you’re sure you’ll have this entire experience engraved in your brain for years to come - you’ll remember every word he utters for you until your dying days - but it is more practical to have a recording. You swing your bag off your arm and open it, digging through the jumbled mess of items inside until you find your phone, and you hold it up with a nod. “Yeah - there isn’t anywhere a bit quieter, is there?”

It takes a minute of bustling - Jeff tells you two instructions to go down the hall into another room where you may find more silence - and Harry promises, accent thick and eyes rolling, to be back in twenty minutes or less, if tha’s enough time for you, ma’am, and you try to trick yourself into thinking the burn flushing up your cheeks is due to the heat of the room.

Down the hall is another door that Harry opens for you, letting you walk in first. It’s a small room, clearly meant for storage, and he shuts the door behind the pair of you. There’s - luckily, or perhaps unluckily - just enough room for you two have at least a few feet between you, and he leans against the wall with an air of casual elegance you couldn’t hope to achieve as you scroll through your phone to search for the voice recorder app.

“Hope this s’good enough - is it?” Harry inquires, leaning his head closer to yours, and you nod. “Good - wish there was a nicer spot for you, but -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interject, smiling up at him, and he grins back, and your stomach churns violently. You almost feel like you could vomit - when he goes on, you’ll go and have a bit to eat at the table set up with foods that Jeff had wheeled you past when you arrived. Eating seems to solve more of your nerves than you’d care to admit, and you feel like you’re nearly 95% nerves right now. Your fingers fiddle with the voice recorder app, adding a title to the recording while entirely too focused on the sounds of Harry’s breathing above you, and you can practically fear his eyes boring into your face before you press record.

And, for the most part, it does go smoothly. Harry introduces himself with an ease that only comes with years of practice, so much time spent being interviewed that it must feel like as much of a second nature to him as interviewing is to you. He’s charming and charismatic - flirtatious, even - making jokes and adding lines that you make a mental note to be sure to include in your final piece - whatever direction you go - and you can’t say you’re bothered by the way he leans closer to the phone, and thus closer to you, in order for his voice to be heard more on the recording when occasional noise bustles in from outside.

You don’t need to look at the questions you’d spent weeks laboring over - every question you inquire derives directly from his answers like he’s practically feeding them to you, and then you’re interviewing him so naturally, you could nearly fool yourself into thinking it’s an organic conversation between friends.

What’s his process to prepare for shows? Well, listening to Fleetwood Mac and eating finger foods, of course - he loves mozzarella sticks. Does Fleetwood Mac make you less nervous for shows? No, he doesn’t get too anxious before shows, now that he’s out of the band. He just loves Fleetwood Mac - he could listen to them at any time of the day. What do you think makes your solo career less anxiety-inducing than being in the band? Different fans let him be himself more. There’s less pressure to be someone he isn’t - do you think he could’ve worn a floral printed suit at a One Direction concert?

And, in the end, twenty minutes hardly feels like it, and by the time Harry tilts his head over the screen of your phone to check the time, you could nearly convince yourself that you’d merely spent a minute with the heartthrob, and it pains you to stop the recording.

“How’d I do?” he questions, cheeky smile indenting the dimple in his cheek, and you feel like you need to dip your face in ice once he goes on stage - your face hasn’t felt anything less than piping hot since the first moment he rested eyes on you, and his kind-bordering-on-flirtatious nature only makes your skin heat more under his gaze.

It isn’t as though you’d have it any other way, though.

“Perfect,” and you send him a smile. “I’ll watch the show - probably eat a bit, too, if I’m being honest - and maybe ask you a few questions. How many shows are you doing in LA?”

Harry reaches past you, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door for you once more, and you slip out with a small smile as he follows, face twisted in what’s clearly a show of being in deep thought. “Four. An’ a few more on the West Coast ‘fore we move out - reckon you’ll need t’come t’a few more?”

“Depends.” He looks at you curiously as the two of you make your way back to the room you’d been in before, and when you enter, it’s clearly in a more prominent state of preparation for the show - there’s more bustle and movement between every band member and Jeff, who looks entirely relieved to see you two come in as She’s a Rainbow thumps softly, volume clearly turned down on whatever produces the music. “If I feel like I’ve got enough material from this show, then that’ll be it - I usually just do reviews of specific gigs, and this is a lot broader - so I really don’t know.”

Harry nods, and you feel a flutter in your heart at how intently he seems to be listening to you, like he really cares, and you’re sure it’s a facade - he probably has a million other things on his mind as Jeff descends upon the both of you, whisking him away as he calls goodbye! to you - but still. When was the last time you’d felt listened to? By Mike, or by the security guard outside, or even from your own parents when you try to convince them over and over that you have a plan, that your degree wasn’t a waste of time when you could’ve been a doctor -

Well, Harry’s a gentleman, you decide, sliding your phone into the back pocket of your flares as you reach in your bag for your notepad. You can tell they’re preparing to go on soon and so you descend against the wall, grabbing your pen from deep inside the confines of your bag to scribble the essential notes of what you’ll need - it’ll make it easier when it’s time to write, rather than listening to the entire 20 minute interview again to try and find the important sections to include.

His responses to your question still burn fresh in your mind, and you began scribbling your bullet points on the small notepad in your hands. It’s decently easy to block out the chatter of the room you’re in along with its music, volume turned down further until it’s hardly audible, and it really is a skill you’ve mastered, though you suppose you’ve had to - trying to take notes for articles about gigs occurring in buildings so small that their noise reverberates off of every surface has made you a master in tuning out noise surrounding you.

You are aware, and acutely, at that, when the band starts exiting through the door beside you. They don’t look nervous, returning your encouraging smiles with ones of their own, and you watch them pour out the door with confidence practically radiating off of them. Well, that’s something to mention, isn’t it? Most of the bands you’d interviewed were practically vomiting with nerves -

Harry takes up the rear, fingers running through his slicked back hair, and you can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or if he’s simply trying to let his curls fall in front of his eyes more. Jeff walks in front of him, giving you a smile as he leaves, and the singer stops beside you.

Your breath just about catches in your throat as you look up at him, and he’s staring down at you with a decidedly ambiguous look in his eyes, and you smile at him. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re gonna come and watch?”

You nod. “Eventually - I’m gonna eat something first, finish my notes. Maybe give myself a tour of the backstage in case I decide to include it.”

“Sounds good t’me,” Harry says, but he doesn’t make a motion to leave, and then his eyes roll down your body and is he fucking checking you out? Because - no - that’s crazy. That would cement into your brain the knowledge that this is a dream, and not reality, because there’s no fucking way Harry Styles is checking you out, eyes roaming from your eyes to your stomach to your - “I like your pants. Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ah. Of course. Fashion icon, he is, inquiring about the pants you’d chosen specifically because they looked like something he may like. “These?” You glance down as though you’d forgotten what pants you’d donned, as though you hadn’t spent hours in front of your closet envisioning what outfit you could wear to impress him. “I think they’re from Zara. Got them a couple years back.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Why, thank you -”

“Harry!”

Jeff’s voice calling from outside the room snaps you both out of your conversation, a slightly embarrassed grin spreading across Harry’s face that you’re sure is mirroring your own. His cheeks are tinged pink and he clears his throat.

“Sorry - gotta go - make sure y’try the mozzarella sticks, ‘kay? They’re good,” Harry tells you, and you grin, drumming the pen clutched between your fingers against the notepad in your hands.

“Will do,” you reply, and then you lift your hand and point to the door, raising your eyebrows with a smile. “Go break a leg - and then be ready to talk about it when you’re done!”

He doesn’t say anything else - just gives you a thumbs up and slips out the door, and you can hear his frenzied apologies to Jeff as their voices fade away, surely preparing to get on stage and sing his heart out and blow the fucking stadium away, but you can hardly focus on it. Because - God, you really don’t want to sound like a narcissist - but he was joking around with you, complimented your pants, and he did technically check you out, even if it was just to see your pants.

Was he flirting with you?

Surely not. No, that would be absurd. He’s probably just bored - maybe entertaining random people backstage is his way of dealing with his nerves.

That makes a bit more sense.

When you glance back down at your notepad, the page half filled with scribbled bullet points of things you’d sworn to remember, and when you click your pen open to continue your list, you find that you can’t quite think of anything else to write. All you can think about is the mozzarella sticks waiting for you, and then standing in the wings to watch him sing his heart out to a crowd of adoring fans that you, at one point, would have killed to be apart of -

You shove your pen and pad back into your bag with a determined spin of your heels. Food first - contemplation second.

~~~

The show is - needless to say - amazing.

You’d feasted on slightly-cold mozzarella sticks that were, even in their lowered temperatures, immensely good, and clearly garnered all the affection Harry had for them. The food table was nearly completely empty, crew members repeatedly coming up to fill plates with vegetables and snacks, and so you simply gathered the last three sticks of celery once you were done with your sticks before taking a leisurely stroll along the backstage area. Celery firm between your teeth, you pulled out your notepad and your pen once more and jotted notes of what you could possibly include in the article to jog your memory later -

It takes a while, admittedly. You don’t want to leave anything out, and eventually you have two pages filled with notes in your handwriting that would surely be illegible to anyone else who happened upon them - and, sure, your pages are small, but still. Two pages is a lot, and you’re sure most of it won’t even make it into the article but you don’t want to risk forgetting any important information.

A trip to the bathroom - perusing the food table again to pick up the last few carrot sticks - and the show is nearly halfway over, so you decide it may be time to slip into the wings and watch. Take notes, possibly, but mainly just listen and absorb the music and the atmosphere and exactly how the fans react to his every move. That’s what the people want to know, isn’t it? It’s what you would want to know - so you slip past the lingering groups of people into the wings of the stage, where you get a clear view of Harry and his band, singing his heart out to a tune you know to be Kiwi.

It’s ear splitting, truly, in a way that none of the other gigs you’d witnessed had been. But it sounds good - better than good - and he’s as charismatic on stage as he is off, waggling his eyebrows during the more suggestive lines and undoing the button of his suit jacket, and the latter garners a deafening scream from the adoring fans in the crowd.

No, you won’t need to take notes, at least not yet. You’ll remember this forever, won’t you? Watching him work the crowd like he was born to do it, like it’s a second nature and you’re sure it is, at this point. It’s all you can do to stand there, watching him, and you’re sure you look no different from the other fans in the crowd, your eyes wide and lips parted in absolute awe of him -

His head turns to the side, briefly, as if he can sense your eyes on him above anyone else’s. In reality you’re sure he’d simply turned his head to flick a sweaty curl out of his face but it’s never a bad thing to dream right? And your gaze locks for just a moment, his eyebrows raising when he sees your face, and heat burns at your cheeks before his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his right eye shuts in a quick wink before he’s turning back to the crowd as if his attention had never left them.

Shit. You nearly drop your damn carrot. God, he’s a fucking tease, and you’re not even sure he knows it - that this experience will never leave your brain for as long as you walk this Earth, watching him wink as he stared into the depths of your fucking soul, clad in a gorgeous suit with his gorgeous hair and -

Harry truly is a sight to behold, and you’re more than content to watch him forever.

Forever ends up being another half hour or so before you’re made entirely too aware of the fact that you have to pee - not insanely bad, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably from side to side before sighing, turning and making your way further backstage in your search for the bathroom. In your determined tour of the backstage you’d forgotten to search for the restroom, and you wander about for nearly five whole minutes before getting to it -

You do your business. There’s not much more explanation needed.

It’s when your washing your hands, though, water freezing cold against your palms, that you become slightly aware of a myriad of noises occurring outside the restroom. At first you choose not to focus on it, shoving your hands beneath the air dryer to ease your soaking, cold hands, and the noise of violent air assaulting your palms drowns out the scuffling sounds from outside.

When the dryer turns off, and you reach down to wipe your damp hands on your pants, the noises haven’t stopped. And, sure, no one could expect it to be completely silent backstage, but whatever you’re hearing isn’t the normal laughter and chatter and muffled music that you’re used to hearing -

It sounds like someone is fighting, and your hand freezes in its place on the cool metal doorknob. You lean forward, scrunching your nose as you plainly try harder to hear what’s happening -

But, Hell. You have a job to do - you need to get back to the wings to watch the remaining few minutes of the set before Harry leaves and, subsequently, returns for the encore, and you’d intended to write with detail about his closing repetition of Kiwi. So you grab the doorknob, swing the door open and step out, and freeze nearly immediately once you’ve exited.

There is a fight - not as violent as you’d expected - as the security guard from inside scuffles with Steve, who looks positively wasted in a way you’ve come to know all too well, doing gigs in LA. His face shines with a sheen layer of sweat, skin glowing in the artificial light, and his fists move slowly to pummel into the other security guard’s back. It’s, truthfully, a bit pathetic to watch - he isn’t putting up much of a fight against the guard trying to hold him, and your mouth parts with poorly-concealed confusion at the display in front of you.

You’re not sure what to say - or do - or think - standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you watch the poor excuse of a fight, Steve nearly toppling to the ground as the other guard tries to contain him.

“Come on, Steve - don’t be like this -”

Then the other security guard looks up and sees you, and the expression on his face nearly makes you burst into laughter, but you contain it with a bit more difficulty than you’d like to admit. He looks annoyed, like he’s absolutely done with his coworker, and also slightly embarrassed. Clearly, he’d dragged Steve into the hallway containing the bathrooms with the hopes of nobody seeing either of them, and you’ve interrupted his bid for privacy desperately. “Sorry, ma’am,” the guard says, grabbing one of Steve’s flailing fists in his hands. “Don’t mind us - he’s drunk - just trying to contain him.”

You’re doing a damn good job, you want to say, but you bite back the retort with a small nod and a whisper of a smile on your face, walking with your back to the wall past their display in the hopes of Steve not seeing you. He hadn’t been particularly nice to you when you’d first seen him and you can tell he’s in a much more heightened state, now - he’d been drunk when you’d seen him before and you can tell it’s only gotten worse.

Maybe you should’ve told Jeff the guard was drunk?

Well, it’s counterproductive to dwell on the past.

You’re not so lucky, though - you’ve barely made it down five steps down the hallway before Steve lifts his head, pupils blown and skin even stickier looking than before, and he gives you the same disgusted look as though you’re something his dog had left on the grass. “Hey - hey - Jim - do you know who that is?”

And the other security guard - Jim - just rolls his eyes. “No, Steve, I don’t - stop making a fool out of yourself.”

“She works at - at - Eat to the Beat - Parallel Lines - what is it?”

Do you answer him? You don’t quite know. You just swallow thickly, forcing yourself not to don the smile that’s urging its way onto your lips as you hear roaring screams from the crowd that alerts you to the fact that, if Harry isn’t done with his set yet, he’s close, and you need to watch the end. “Autoamerican. Those are all good albums, though.”

“She’s snarky - get off of me, Jim -”

In Steve’s final bid for freedom his legs kick out, and his sneakered foot knocks into your ankle, and it’s certainly not hard by any stretch of the definition but it’s enough to catch you off balance, his toe hooking into the loose fabric around your ankles as he brings his foot back to kick again. One kick did it, though - you tumble to the ground, legs flying out from under you until you land on your ass on the hard floor, your bag slipping off your shoulder, and its contents scatter across the ground.

Fuck. That hurt, more than you’d care to admit, as you brace your elbows behind you to stop your head from knocking into the ground. Your ass hurts and you can see Steve’s leg bracing backwards for another kick, and you push yourself backwards so his foot merely pushes against the air.

You can already see Jim opening his mouth to desperately say sorry when a set of footsteps interrupts his apology - you don’t have to look to your side to see who it is, the smell of expensive cologne wafting before him like an introduction. You practically feel him before you see him.

Your name falls off Harry’s lips entirely too easily, like he’d been looking for you in the overtly small window of space he has before he has to go back on stage - his hair is messy and his skin is sweaty and he bends down next to you with such sentimentality in his eyes - you almost feel like a child again.

“Are y’okay?” Harry questions, and his hand rests on the small of your back and warmth seems to seep through your body from its spawning point, palm moving in circles against your sweater so gently you can tell he’s scared to go much harder. “Wha’ -?”

For his eyes had just landed on the sight in front of you - Jim managed to pull Steve up, the latter clearly coming to his senses at least a little bit, and his eyes narrow at the sight of you on the floor and subsequently widen as he sees Harry next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” And you can hear anger quivering under his voice like boiling water, ready to overflow, and you instinctively reach up to press your hand against his forearm - you do it to your niece all the time when you can tell she’s on the verge of a tantrum and it always works on her - but she is five, and Harry’s twenty years her senior, so, needless to say, the motion doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Fightin’ back here, kickin’ her - you’re s’posed t’be security guards!”

“It’s okay, Harry -”

“S’not okay -”

And then there’s another set of footsteps jogging over to you, and you look up to see Jeff -

“Har, you need to get back out -” but you can see the confusion set into his features as he stands over the scene, eyes flickering to you and Harry on the floor to Jim and Steve, the former having settled the latter into a fairly calm position. The scent of alcohol is strong and you can practically watch as Jeff smells it, his nose crinkling. “Is he drunk?”

“He is drunk, an’ got into a fight wit’ -”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, squeezing Harry’s arm again as you push yourself to stand, attempting not to wince at the pain in your ass as your muscles tense. He’s looking at you like you’ve just been hit by a car instead of having a mild scuffle with a security guard, eyes wide and concerned, and you shake your head at him. “Didn’t get into a fight, Harry - he accidentally kicked me. It’s really fine - you need to go back out, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jeff insists, reaching down to tug Harry up as his eyes bore into the sight in front of you, Steve slowly calming himself down until he’s simply red in the face and reeking of booze. “Come on, Har - you need to get on.”

But Harry’s already bending down again, grabbing your pen and your notebook and your phone (you can see a crack in the screen that most certainly hadn’t been there just a mere ten minutes ago) and you could nearly laugh at the display he’s putting on, shoving your items back into your back, if Jeff’s demeanor wasn’t bordering on murderous as he drags Harry up again. You reach down and grab your bag, now fully stocked again with all of the items that had clattered out, and you give the tussling security guards one final fleeting look before following Jeff and Harry as they make their way down the hall.

“Y’sure you’re okay?” Harry questions, slowing his pace so you can jog beside him, much to Jeff’s lingering annoyance as he brings his fingers up to rub at the space between his eyes. “Y’should know - tha’ doesn’t usually happen -”

“I get it,” you tell him.

“No, really.” You’ve reached the wings of the stage, and Jeff leaves the pair of you alone to descend on to where the band stands, clearly waiting for the cue to go on. Harry runs a hand through his hair, and he looks oddly exasperated and you wish you could get it through his head that it really isn’t a big deal - “Someone will take care of the guards, okay?”

“Don’t fire them,” you insist, even though you’re sure he has no say in it. “Not Jim, at least.”

“Jim -?”

“The sober one.”

“Oh.” He pauses, dropping his hands to his sides. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Just try.”

“Will do.”

There’s another brief second of silence before you nod towards the stage where he’s needed - the few lowly minutes between the end of the show and the encore has come to an end, and you’re sure people are beginning to wonder if he’s not coming back. “Go on, Har. There’s people waiting for you.”

“M’going!” And he isn’t going, just staring at you with his brows furrowed, and you raise your own with a confused stare. “Are y’gonna come t’any more shows?”

You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer. “Well - maybe. If I need more information.” “You should,” he tells you, and you tilt your head to the side. “Look, I don’t want your only impression of m’shows t’be that they’re violent an’ crazy.”

“I don’t think -”

“Jus’ one more? In two days. I’ll send you th’address. I really want you t’come -”

Before you can process the request Jeff has stepped forward, hooking his arm in Harry’s and practically dragging him towards the stage, and you watch him prance back in front of the audience like it’s his God given purpose and perhaps it is. You’ve never quite met anyone like him, you don’t think, and you’d certainly had a perception of what you’d imagined him to be like based on the insane amount of time you’d spent obsessing over his band when you were younger -

Your mouth feels suddenly dry as you watch him begin, and the music seems to reverberate beneath your skin, and suddenly - without having to think about it much at all, really - you know it won’t take much convincing on his part to get you back for a second night.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles drabble #harry styles one shot #im sure im going to regret starting this as a series and not trying to make it one long piece #but honestly??#im working on another fic right now so i just want the beginnings of this to be out there #i hope u enjoy

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

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DATING SEVENTEEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Kwon Soonyoung

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Soonyoung is always incredibly soft with any affection that he gives you, he loves to have his arms around you, whether it’s your waist, neck, or shoulders, he’ll take whatever he can get when it comes to being close to you.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You were instantly drawn the charming smile he had when the two of you first went to the same coffee store. He caught your eye in the queue, and you could only manage a smile back at him before the waitress called you forwards and took your order, aware that Soonyoung’s eyes were firmly watching you.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

The two of you coincidentally kept bumping into each other at the store most mornings, almost as if it was fate. You never said a word to each other until one time you went to give your order only to be told it was already sorted. Soonyoung had learnt your order off by heart and paid for your coffee when he saw you walking into the store on the promise that you’d let him take you out for dinner whenever you had the time.

D ⇴ DATES

You’re both fond of adventuring on your dates and exploring plenty of new places. Soonyoung will drive you around for hours to find hotspots for dates and quiet places. Sometimes just driving around is enough for the two of you, especially at night. You’ll stop by a drive-thru and order yourselves from food, turn the speakers up high in the car and just go in whichever direction you decide, making the most of the peace and quiet from it all and also the time that you get to spend with each other and just be able to talk.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

Soonyoung had zero dating experience before he met you, and so he relied on those around him to give him a lot of tips when it first came to impressing you. You could tell that he was nervous when your relationship first began, he often mumbled apologies out of fear that he was doing something wrong or had perhaps missed a trick. It took a lot of reassurance from you to allow him to settle and trust that what he was doing was alright, but as he learned more about dating, he definitely began to settle in your relationship more too.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

If there’s ever something that has upset you or angered you, Soonyoung is always very understanding and willing to help to make a change. He’s not someone who gets upset if you find yourself wanting to argue, he’s the first to admit that he’s not perfect, and if he can do something to make your life easier, then he’ll definitely do it. Similarly, with you, if something frustrates him about you, he’ll understand that the two of you are different people and at sometimes differences can appear, it’s just about working through it and moving forwards. It takes a lot to argue with him, or at least try and create a disagreement between you both.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

Finding the time in Soonyoung’s busy schedule is hard to be able to meet his family, but whenever he has the chance, he’ll take you to visit his family. They’ve heard enough about you from Soonyoung to know that they’ll love you but meeting you in person far exceeds all of their expectations for the person that you are.

H ⇴ HOME

He often spends more time at the studio then his home anyway, so Soonyoung won’t be too fussed wherever he settles. If it’s easier for him to head back to the dorm at night, then he will, or if yours is better, he’ll arrive there. Soonyoung is in no rush to find a place together, which you’re understanding of when he’s so busy.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

When he came home from tour and reunited with you, Soonyoung couldn’t help but tell you that he loved you. He never imagined that he’d struggle as much as he did with not being able to see you, but as he thought about it, the emotions that he felt of not being able to be around you added up to one answer, that he loved you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Soonyoung is someone who is full of confidence, so he’ll pit himself against any other guy quite happily and know that you’d pick him, therefore he doesn’t tend to get jealous too often. He also appreciates that you have other people in your life who aren’t him, and so if you want to spend your time with someone else, then he’ll understand that and won’t allow himself to get jealous. Although he can’t hide the fact that he’ll be relieved when you get home to him, and answer all of his questions about how your day was.

K ⇴ KIDS

The two of you talked about your future from time to time, finding it important to see if you were on the same trajectories. Soonyoung loved to tell you all about how he hoped to be able to teach his children dancing in the future, having kids was a huge deal to him, but having children that would hopefully follow in his footsteps was a thought that made him very happy, and very excited for a future with you too.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

There is never a bad day whenever you’re in Soonyoung’s company, he’s one of the main members who can help to create a light and happy atmosphere. He also hates whenever you’ve had a bad day and come home sad, he always works hard to pick up anyone when they’re feeling down, but especially you. He’ll work tirelessly to try and make you smile again, no matter how long it takes or how down you’re feeling. He cares a lot about making sure that you live a happy life with him, and will put all his efforts into making you laugh, cracking joke after joke and forever making cheeky remarks that will make you grin.

M ⇴ MISSING

The true sign that the other members need to know that Soonyoung is missing you is when his own mood drops, and he becomes quiet. He’s always the one to pick the others up, so they’ll be the first ones there to pick him up whenever he needs it too. He’ll force a smile onto his face whenever he calls you, because he knows that you miss him. and he doesn’t want to make things worse for you. Not having him around to brighten the mood will be hard on all of the boys, they rely on him too, so they’ll try desperately to pick him up, not just for his own sake, but for keeping the moral of the rest of the group high as well.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

You often end up calling Soonyoung, ‘energiser,’ because he just never stops. If he’s not dancing or singing, he’s talking or running around the place looking after you, he never seems to take a moment to breathe.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He’s obsessed with your smile and making sure that you’re happy. Just the thought of you being down is heart breaking for him, so he’ll do whatever he can to make you smile.

P ⇴ PDA

Soonyoung is confident in your relationship, so he definitely doesn’t mind about being affectionate with you in public. Whilst he doesn’t do anything to draw attention to the two of you, the way he holds you in public sends a clear message to those watching you both that he’s in love with you and a very happy guy too.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Whenever he comes up with a new routine or sequence, Soonyoung will often ask you about it and see what you think. Your opinion means a lot to him, and so any steps that get approval from you instantly go towards the group too.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

His phone album is full of random photos of you that he’s taken over the years. Quite a few of them are unflattering and taken from the worst angles, but those ones are also Soonyoung’s favourites because even though you’re at your worst, he still loves the way you look. Every single photo goes a long way to helping him when he’s on tour and picking his mood up whenever he’s missing you, bringing a smile back to his face.

S ⇴ SEX

Soonyoung has a lot of energy when it comes to getting intimate with you, he never tires, and never complains either. He’s always very physical around you, he loves to keep you nice and close and guide you into positions that he loves to get you in. There’s never too much distance between the two of you, and if you start to tire, then Soonyoung will encourage you to relax and let him do all the work to make you feel good.

T ⇴ TEXTS

If he’s not able to see you throughout the day, then he’ll often send you videos of the things that he’s getting up to so you can still feel as if you’re there with him and take note of the places he’s visits for your future date nights too.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Your support is by far the thing that means the most to Soonyoung, knowing that he has someone who is permanently backing him and pushing him to achieve his dreams is the boost he needs to make sure that he keeps going.

V ⇴ VACATION

Going on holiday is a treat for you both regardless of where you are in the world. The two of you will often decide on a place, and if you can’t, you’ll take a globe and drop a pin in it, wherever it lands, the two of you go. As long as you’re adventuring then you’re both happy no matter where you are in the world.

W ⇴ WHINING

Soonyoung tends to lean towards liking your attention, and whilst he can deal without it for a while, if you leave it too long, he’ll let you know about it.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Kisses from Soonyoung are always soft and sweet, whenever he has you in his hold it becomes an instinct for him to press a kiss against your cheek or against the side of your head. For him, your kisses are another form of support, almost as if you’re sealing your approval that he’s doing well and reminding him that you’re right there with him. They’re incredibly comforting and reassuring for him to know that you’re there.

Y ⇴ YOU

You’re his number one fan, always his cheerleader on the side-lines supporting him.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

He loves to be close to you at night, it’s comforting for him to be able to feel the quiet sounds of your breath and the feeling of you wriggling beside him as you try to get comfortable, settling eventually in his arms.

---

Masterlist

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theamberwriter · 4 years ago

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Bouncing Baby [4]: Sick Day

Read the Series! [1] [2] [3]

Pairing: Shota Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,613

A/N: Wow, hi guys! It's been a minute! I hope that you all like this next part! I'm so excited it's finally done after all this time. Hopefully you all still want to read it! This was a lot of fun to write. I hope you all enjoy!! Also, I hate editing on Tumblr Mobile, lol

You knew as soon as you woke up that morning, there was no way you were going to work. Your head was packed, your ears were stuffy and ringing, and your throat felt like sandpaper. You could barely open your eyes to shut off your alarm. You coughed, nearly puking as phlegm came up with it. You spit in the trash can next to your bed.

"Shota," you whined rolling over, and accidentally smacking him in the face with your hand. He grunted.

"You're not going to work today, are you?" he muttered, eyes still close.

"Are you crazy?" You coughed and spit in the can again. "You know my quirk copies my physical state on other people. If I try to heal anyone, they'll all leave the office feeling like this."

"I figured as much, that's why I asked."

Shota grabbed you, pulling your back to his front. You were worried about him getting sick. But you didn't protest the cuddles. They made you feel a lot better. You wished the two of you could lay there all day.

"I'll take Kohaku to work with me," Shota said as the third alarm rang. Reluctantly he sat up, placing his feet on the floor.

You rolled to face him, mostly asleep. Your head swam. "You don't have to. She's a handful."

"She'll be fine, nothing I can't handle."

"But your class - after everything that's happened...They still have so much left to learn. That's why I've been keeping her with me."

"Exactly, if they can't handle a child after this - there's no hope for them," your husband chuckled. You wanted to protest more. But your mind was getting dragged down into slumber.

You didn't hear them leave. Only waking to an empty house. For the first time in years, you were alone. No husband, no baby - it was unbearably quiet. But it was nice and serene. If only you didn't have a cold.

You glanced at the clock on the stove. Shota was three hours into work. You wondered how he and his class were faring. Little did you know, Kohaku would soon give them a run for their money.

Nobody had really questioned when Shota Aizawa walked through the halls with a baby that morning. A bag in his wife's favorite color was hung from his shoulder, and a black haired baby who was the spitting image of him on his hip. She was fast asleep against his shoulder.

By that time in the school year, everybody knew he was married to one of the school's nurses and that the baby was theirs. The secret he'd been trying to keep, leaking out after only two weeks. All due to an incident where she phased through the walls, giving everyone a fright.

It had been a regular occurrence after that that he'd watch the child in the classroom. Giving his wife a break to focus on her duties. So his class didn't much question the child either. Even though it'd been four months since they saw her last. The baby had grown much in that time.

Shota put his sleeping daughter in her playpen, then stood in front of his class. On his way to work, he'd thought of something fun. Something to give him a story to tell his sick wife to cheer her up when he got home. Maybe he'd even send her a video while the chaos ensued.

"Your morning classes will proceed as usual," he said. "However, your training later today will be different than normal."

Shota didn't answer any of his students questions. They would all just have to wait and see.

Their classes went by, lunch came and went. So far, Kohaku had been tame. He only had to erase her quirk a few times. Which she grew irritated at quickly. But she calmed down after All Might sat with her for an hour.

Kahaku napped after his visit. Shota right alongside her. He was glad she decided to sleep during the lunch period. He knew she was at her worst after nap time. But he wasn't concerned about it today. Today, her unruliness wasn't his problem. In fact, it worked great with his plan. It wouldn't have been as fun if she fell asleep in the middle of it.

Shota escorted his class to their training facilities once they all had changed. Kohaku was just beginning to wake up due to all the noise. She was still slumped against her father's shoulder.

"Mr. Aizawa, what are we doing today?" Iida asked. "Is it some sort of special training?"

Shota smirked to himself. "Something like that. Today - you'll be taking care of my daughter."

There was a loud, collective WHAT?!

"We're not damn babysitters!" Bakugo growled.

"Don't curse around the girl, Bakugo!" Iida scolded.

Uraraka stepped forward. "She's only a baby, it shouldn't be too hard. Right?"

"Kohaku is very special. And not just to me and her mom. Kohaku is a year and seven months. However, as you may know, she already has her quirk," Aizawa explained. There were murmurs of oh yeah and shit, that's right. "My daughter can change the material her entire body structure is made of. Most likely to an atomic level. But, since she's only a baby, what she becomes and what she decides to do are totally unpredictable.

"Your task is to watch her until the end of the day. I won't be erasing her quirk. Time out will only be called if Kohaku falls asleep or needs her diaper changed. If she's still in the facility at the end of the day, you've successfully completed the exercise. But if she gets out, even once, then I'm going to make you sit through sex education classes with Midnight for a week."

There was a collective shutter, aside from Mineta. He was way too into it. Nose bleed and all. Everyone else one could see them sifting through worst case scenarios. Shota knew Nemuri would be only too excited to show his class the ropes if BDSM. Quite literally.

Shota moved Kohaku's hair from her eyes. Checking if she'd gone back to sleep. But Kohaku leaned up, yawning as she rubbed her face. She grinned up at her father, then turned to look at everyone else. She leaned shyly back against his shoulder. There were a few aawwwws.

"You're playing shy now?" Shota chuckled. "You know them. They're going to play with you today. Would you like that? - I've brought a bag of her toys with us. Everybody take one. The first person she goes to gets to sit out a day of lessons if the class manages to fail. If the class succeeds, that person gets extra credit towards any class they're currently lacking in."

His whole class clambered for the bag. Pulling out cute little bunnies, and plastic rings, and soft books that crinkled when they moved. Bakugo was unlucky enough to get a teether that looked like a bowl of ramen that she'd recently chewed on. He turned white when her spit coated his hand. He seemed about ready to destroy it.

"I would like to note," Shota added. "That if any of the toys are ruined by a student, it's an automatic failure for the entire group."

Everybody turned to Bakugo. He glared them down, snapping an insult. Shota sat on the floor, and a few people followed. He put Kohaku on his knee, turning her towards the class. She seemed mesmerized by her selection of toys.

"Do we have any questions before we start?"

Iida's hand shot into the air. "Mr. Aizawa, could you please tell us what materials your daughter can turn herself into?"

Aizawa nodded. "I was wondering if any of you were going to ask. Lucky Iida did, so that you all can be warned. - So far, Kohaku has done four things. One, she can become a rubber-like substance. If she falls or jumps off something, she'll bounce. After each subsequent one, she will become faster indefinitely until she hits something she can't bounce off of.

"Two, she can become heavy metal. When this happens, Kohaku can't be picked up or knocked over. This is often how she pushes over her playpen. However, the metal is soft and scratches easily. Which means that, when she deactivates, she'll have cuts in her skin. Third, she can turn her skin into a diamond material. Unlike with the metal, she can't be hurt in this state. But she is light and can be moved. Finally, Kohaku has figured out how to make her matter permeable. You all have met Mirio, of the Big Three. It seems to be similar to his quirk.

"She may be a child. But children are unpredictable, and Kohaku is particularly rambunctious once she warms up to you. If you all can handle villains, I see no reason why you should have any trouble with my daughter. Does anyone else have anything to ask?"

When the class remained silent, Shota nodded. He bounced Kohaku on his knee for a moment while he spoke to her.

“Okay, Kohaku,” Shota started. “Which toy would you like to play with?”

He stood her on her feet, making sure she was balanced. She sucked on her thumb as she slowly started to wobble towards the class. Some began to shake rattles at her or crinkle books. A few started making the noise to call cats. Shota rolled his eyes, you couldn’t pspspspspsss at a baby.

Finally, she wandered over to Todoroki. He’d been sitting quietly, watching her. His eyes grew wide as she crawled in his lap, reaching for the rabbit in his hand. Todoroki froze as she pulled herself up to stand on his thigh. She held the rabbit closely, while gripping on to his shoulder for balance. Shota made sure to get a photo on his phone of Todoroki’s terrified face.

“Are you okay, Todoroki?” Asui asked.

The corners of his mouth pulled down as he lifted up Kohaku and held her in front of him. She gurgled happily, jingling the chime in the rabbit.

“You scared of a stupid baby, Half and Half?” Bakugo snapped. He came over and took Kohaku from Todoroki’s hands, causing her to lose her grip on the rabbit. For once, Shota was glad when Kohaku started to cry. This was the beginning of the end.

Kohaku quickly turned herself into heavy metal. Bakugo cursed, trying to keep a grip on her. But she ultimately slammed to the ground. Kohaku gurgled happily, though Bakugo glared. She’d narrowly missed crushing his foot.

Shota watched on, laughing to himself, as Kohaku began to phrase through the large training terrain in the middle of the room. Students followed, leaping up into them. Trying to figure out where she might be in the structure.

“There!” Kirishima called from the other side.

Everyone followed, disappearing quickly, and Shota went to get a higher vantage point. Kirishima dove for Kohaku, but she went right through his fingers. He looked at his hands in disbelief, then watched as she teetered away. A few people tried to grab her, but she went through all of them.

“Oh, c’mon!” Kaminari whined. “She’s going to get out!”

“She’s not a dog, sweetie,” Ashido said, rolling her eyes.

“She’s still heading for the wall! Which means -” Kaminari paled, so did Ashido when she remembered what Kohaku’s escape meant.

“Todoroki,” Asui asked. “Where’s that rabbit you had?!”

Todoroki glanced over his shoulder. “I put it back in the bag.”

“That’s okay, I think I can replicate it.” Yaoyorozu flicked quickly through her book, then focused. Not long after a semi-perfect replication of Kohaku’s rabbit sat in her hands. She shook it, and the chime inside jingled. Kohaku stopped in her tracks, one hand held up to the wall.

Kohaku searched for the sound, sputtering happily as she found the rabbit. She waddled over to Yaoyarozu , hands extending as far as her little arms could reach. Yaoyarozu picked her up, jingling the rabbit again. Kohaku seemed happy as long as made noise.

"That was way too close!" groaned Uraraka, slumping to the ground.

"I guess we gotta keep her entertained," Kirishima noted. "But how? Yaoyarozu can't keep making toys."

Aoyama butted in then, radiating sparkles. He grinned at Kohaku. "Allow moi to try. Prepare to be amazed, mon petit!"

However, Kohaku wasn't the least bit impressed by his belly laser. Even when he tried to make it flashy, like fireworks. Shota knew that'd never work on her. He chuckled at the display, taking a picture.

"She's just as mean as Mr. Aizawa," Aoyama whined. He curled into a ball, tears slipping out. The whole class groaned.

Uraraka was next to try. She held out her arms, which Kohaku reluctantly went into. It took Yaoyarozu giving Kohaku the rabbit to hold.

"You wanna go for a ride?!" Uraraka grinned then activated her quirk. It was a moment before Kohaku could process what was happening. But when she realized she was floating high above the others she began to cry.

"Uraraka! Put her down!!" Ojiro yelled.

Uraraka panicked, flailing for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!"

When Uraraka released her, Kohaku fell right into Shoji's arms. Which she did not like very much. Kohaku wailed loudly, clearly not a fan of the multi-limbed hero. Mineta panicked and began trying to juggle some of his balls.

Ashido marched over, swiftly taking Kohaku. "Gimme her, you guys don't know anything about babies! It's okay, sweetie, Auntie Mina is here to save you from these idiots."

She sat down, Kohaku in her lap. Then started making faces at her. Kohaku's crying eased, and there was a moment of relief as she began to giggle. Though even that was short lived. Ashido decided to take Kohaku on a surf around the room. Only to have her goop splash and melt down Kohaku's newly made rabbit. That led to another bout of crying.

"And who were you just calling idiots?" Kaminari asked snidely.

Ashido whined. "Shut up, Denki! It was an accident! Here! - Tsu, you take her!"

"Me?" she asked, pointing to herself. But Kohaku was already in her arms. The two stared at each other. "You can definitely tell she's Mr. Aizawa's daughter."

Kohaku laughed as Asui's tongue hung out of her mouth. She reached for it, tugging, and catching poor Asui off guard. Kohaku stretched and pulled her tongue, gurgling in glee.

"Do you want me to take her, Tsu?" Midoriya offered. Kohaku has been playing with her tongue for five minutes at that point. Anyone could tell how uncomfortable she was.

Asui nodded. "Thanks."

"C'mere, little Kohaku," he cooed, trying to pull Kohaku off. She didn't want to let go. No matter how much he tugged and pulled. Asui even tried to retract her tongue.

Aizawa snapped a picture of the tongue of war.

Finally, Kohaku let go. But so did Midoriya. Everyone watched in horror as the baby went flying.

"What the hell, Deku, you dunce?!" Bakugo growled.

Kohaku smooshed against the wall, then sprang back, careening towards the floor. She began to laugh and sprang off the floor as Sero and Kaminari hit heads trying to catch her.

"That's right!" Iida announced. "Mr. Aizawa said she can turn into rubber and bounce. - But she'll get exponentially faster. We have to catch her before she becomes too fast to see."

"We better do it soon, look!" The sleeve of Hagakure's uniform pointed up at the training terrain. Kohaku was bouncing off one level then the other. Shota dodged expertly as she passed him, she was nothing but a blur.

A few went to catch her, but she even escaped Iida's swiftness. Soon there was nothing but ominous bouncing and maniacal giggles echoing. No baby in sight.

"We're too late," Tokoyami shouted. "It's going to be impossible to catch her now."

Jiro kneeled. "Not impossible. Hanta, when I signal -"

Sero nodded, readying to shoot. Jiro plugged into the floor hearing every place she hit. The floor, the wall, the terrain, the ceiling…

"There!" she shouted, pointing to a space in the air.

Sero shot tape. To everyone's surprise, it wrapped around something. Kohaku appeared, pulling him with her velocity before she sprang back and hit him. Knocking them both to the floor. Kohaku cooed happily from her spot on Sero's chest. He gave a weak smile and a thumbs-up, trying to get the wind back in him.

Kirishima went and picked her up. He grinned at her. But she seemed unsure of his pointed teeth. "That's an awesome power you got, little dude! Mine's not half as cool."

He hardened himself up and Kohaku was instantly mesmerised. She turned herself into diamond. Clinking her hands against his hard skin, sputtering out happy gurgles.

"Really? That's all it took?" Hagakure wondered.

Something strange began to happen the longer Kirishima played with Kohaku. She began to deform her skin. Eventually, it writhed and wriggled. Her whole body trembled. She took partial form once, twice - three times. Kirishima stared in awe as she settled on her final form.

"Oh wow!" He held Kohaku up to face his teacher. "Hey! Mr. Aizawa, look! She has a new ability!"

For the first time in over an hour, Shota joined his students. They all crowded around to what happened. In Kirishima's arms sat a baby that looked to be made of rock. Her skin was hard and rough, even crunchy! It had ridges, similar to Kirishima's when he hardened all the way up. Shota snapped a picture of the pair.

Kohaku laughed, reaching for her father. Shota was surprised to find she was very dense. Not impossible to hold like the metal baby. But she felt like a small boulder. Very weighty and sturdy.

"Look at you," Shota chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I'm very proud of you, Kohaku."

Kohaku went back to normal. Shota wrinkled his nose as soon as she did. He held her slightly away from him. Apparently all that effort to change made her soil her diaper. He wasn't the only one that smelled it. A few others were covering their noses. Some even gagging.

"I'm going to change her. I'll be back in a few minutes." Shota took her to a side room with the diaper bag. He decided it was time to give his wife a call.

"Hey," she croaked as the line crackled to life.

"You sound worse than this morning," he noted grimly. "Are you taking care of yourself?"

[Name] coughed. "Of course. I've had three glasses of water today. Plus I've been downing cough drops like candy."

"Drink more. I'll pick you cold medicine on my way home from work."

"I can go get it, you have Kohaku -"

Shota rolled his eyes. "I can handle her all on my own."

"Has she been good today?"

He grinned to himself. "Exceptional. I'm changing her now, so I thought I would call and check in on my lovely wife."

"I can't wait for you guys to get home," [Name] admitted. "It's unnerving how quiet it is. And I haven't been away from Kohaku this long before. I keep thinking I hear her crying."

"You need some rest." Shota frowned. "I'll call you again before we leave. We love you."

[Name] sighed in defeat, much too tired to argue. "I love you both, too. I'll talk to you later."

Shota hung up and finished changing Kohaku. He washed his hands, then took her back to the gym. "Are you ready to continue play time?"

All of his students had a new heir of determination. They'd seen what she could do now. Shota didn't know if they'd come up with a plan, or we're just being over confident.

"You have just over an hour until the end of the day," he announced. "So let's make this interesting."

"Wait - didn't Mina destroy one of her toys?" Midoriya asked. The class paled in realization. "Shouldn't we be out?"

Shota shook his head. "The toy Ashido melted down was made by Yaoyarozu. It wasn't one I brought with us. So you all haven't failed - for now. At the moment, only Todoroki and Kirishima are safe -"

"Why is shitty hair safe?!" Bakugo blazed.

"He helped her realize a new ability. I think that's a feat that deserves to be rewarded."

Kirishima grinned. "Awesome! Thanks, Mr. Aizawa!"

"Which leads me to the next part." This whole, honestly, couldn't have gone any better. This was better than he'd originally planned. "I want to see if anyone else can help Kohaku develop her quirk. As long as she isn't hurt, you can try to encourage her any way you see fit. The offer from earlier still stands. Anyone who succeeds is given extra credit, if you win. And gets to skip Midnight's, most likely elicit, sex education class, should you fail. - Your time begins now."

Shota put Kohaku down. She immediately went to Kirishima and rocked up. He hardened up himself as he picked her up.

"Maybe it isn't manly, but you're just so adorable," he said and gave her a little squeeze.

"Oi, shitty hair!" Bakugo raged, marching over. "How is anyone else supposed to get a chance if you don't put the brat down?!"

"Insult my daughter again, Bakugo," Shota warned, eyes glowing. "And you'll wish Nemuri's class was the worst thing in your future."

Bakugo huffed. "Yeah, whatever."

"So…." Kirishima chuckled awkwardly. "Who wants to go first?"

"I'll give it a go!" Sato stepped forward, downing a thing of sugar. Kohaku was unimpressed as he powered up and flexed some. He gave up pretty quickly.

"It's okay, you tried your best," Ashido encouraged as he passed her.

Kaminari stepped up next, flashing electricity in the palm of his hand. Kohaku seemed to enjoy the show, but there was no sense that she was trying to change.

"Oh, c'mon," Kaminari groaned. "Don't you want to be an electric baby?"

"So she can fry herself and be as dumb as you?" Jiro teased. "I think not."

"Alright then, you give it a go!" Kaminari slunk away dejectedly.

Jiro and Kohaku exchanged a long glance. Then she extended her earphone jacks towards her. However Jiro retracted them immediately as Kohaku reached for them.

"Sorry, Kohaku," she said and jerked thumb behind her. "But you're not doing to me what you did to Tsu."

"You all aren't doing it properly," Iida scolded, stepping forward. "Allow me to demonstrate. Kirishima, put her down."

Kirishima did as he was asked. Kohaku was not very pleased. She went back to normal as she eyed Iida.

"Look here, little one," Iida instructed. He showed off his leg engines, revving them for show. Kohaku tilted her head.

Iida took a sprint around the room. Then came to a stop in front of her again. Kohaku laughed at that, reaching her arms out.

Iida shook his head. "Now you try."

Kohaku pouted. Kirishima laughed. "She wants you to pick her. Maybe if you took her on a run with you?"

Iida glanced between his classmate and the baby. Finally, he sighed and picked her up. He tucked her to his chest with one arm, then took off into a sprint. Shota had a feeling her hair was going to be a big knotted mess afterwards.

Kohaku looked slightly green as they came to a stop. Iida put her down, then gave her a small lecture on how his engines work. How she could incorporate them. But, honestly, she was a baby. So of course the whole thing was lost to her.

"You do know that's not how children work, right?" Uraraka asked.

Ashido crouched in front of her, conjuring a whole hand of grey mush. "How about you become a slime baby for Auntie Mina?"

"You sound stupid," Bakugo snapped. "Stop calling yourself that."

Ashido threw the slime at him. "Why don't you shut up?! Nobody asked you!"

It took a few people to cool him down. The sound as his hands began to pop got Kohaku's attention. She crawled right past Ashdio, who was still trying to coax out a slime baby. Kohaku sat staring up at Bakugo, watching as his hands crackled.

"What're you looking at?" he snapped, glaring at her.

Kohaku stood as the popping stopped, and pulled one of his hands into her own. She looked closely at his palm and then flipped his hand over. She seemed dissatisfied. Kohaku made a soft pa, pa, papa, pa.

Bakugo frowned. "What are you doing?"

"I think she wants you to use your quirk again," Sero pointed out. Kohaku continued to make the soft pa, papa, pa, pa, paap.

Bakugo sighed. But he did crouch to her height. "I need my hand back to make them pop."

Kohaku seemed to understand and immediately let go. Bakugo took a step away and lit his hands up for her. Kohaku squeezed in glee. She threw her hands up, making louder pa, papa, pa, pa!! She began running around again. Kohaku ran back through the terrain.

"Oh, way to go, Bakugo!" Mineta groaned. "You scared her. Now she's going to get out!"

"Shut it, extra," Bakugo snapped. "I didn't scare her."

"Not with his quirk, anyway," Kaminari snickered quietly. Bakugo turned to him, blazing.

Everyone went back up and over. Kohaku was nowhere in sight.

"Oh no, we lost her!" Ashido exclaimed. "I am not sitting through Miss. Midnight's class with you people!"

"She's not lost!" Midoriya exclaimed. "Look, over there!"

He pointed down by the far wall. Sure enough, Kohaku looked ready to go through it.

"We won't reach her in time," Todoroki said.

Midoriya launched off. "I got her."

Unfortunately he went right through. Smacking face first into the wall.

"Idiot, Deku!" Bakugo took off after. "I'm not going to fail babysitting because of you!"

He landed, popping his hands again. Kohaku turned to him. She crawled over Midoriya, going to sit and watch the show.

"Wow, Bakugo is surprisingly good with kids," Ashido said, faintly.

Everyone dropped down to sit by Kohaku. There wasn't much time left. They just had to keep her entertained for a little while longer.

"Hey, Todoroki! Why don't you make some snow?!" Hagakure cheered.

Kaminari looked incredibly confused. "What?"

"Do you really think that will work?" Kirishima asked.

Hagakure nodded, even though no one could see it. "Sure, nobody can resist playing in the snow!"

Todoroki touched his hand to the floor. It iced up. Then a large flow started, not quite freezing all the way. Bakugo was not pleased as it crashed over him, dousing his flames. Kohaku's head popped out of the snow. She giggled happily as she looked around.

"What the hell, Half and Half?!" Bakugo yelled, melting the slush around him.

Kohaku crawled through the snow. She started taking chunks in her hand and compressing them. Everyone was a little confused when it congealed into ice. Until Kohaku started to tremble again. She stretched and jellied and shook. Then, finally, took form. This time, she looked to be made of ice.

Shota snapped another picture. "Maybe we should let her see quirks in use more often."

"Aw, man, that's not fair!" Mineta whined.

"I mean, of course Todoroki would be good at this. He's good at everything." Hagakure shrugged.

For the first time, Kohaku seemed to notice her. Just a uniform with no body seeming to be attached. Kohaku wandered over to her. She put her hands on where Hagakure's face should be. She was definitely surprised there was something there.

The disturbed look on Kohaku's face faded quickly. She patted Hagakure's face a few more times. Then began to shake again. She flickered a few times.

"This is amazing," Uraraka said in awe. "How do you think she's catching on to quirks so fast?"

"Observation, I suppose," Iida noted. "Look!"

Finally, Kohaku managed to flicker all the way out. Just a t-shirt and pants. She giggled to herself. Hagakure picked her up and hugged her tightly.

"I feel so flattered," she cried.

Bakugo grumbled. "She probably would've picked up my quirk, if you extras hadn't distracted her! Then she'd a real power!"

"No offense, Bakugo. But the last thing Mr. Aizawa and nurse [Name] need is another one of you," Kaminari said.

Bakugo was ready to argue again. A few people scrambled to cool him down. Shota admired the scene as they fought. Kohaku was coming along quite well. Better than he'd expected. He and [Name] had been afraid to let Kohaku around people while using their quirks. But he was starting to see how it's be beneficial to her.

Sure, there were things she'd figured out on her own. But she was very smart for her age. And her abilities with her quirk, the control, the range - it would make her something of a prodigy. He would have just to make sure to lead her down a good path. But not feel like she was being forced to do anything she didn't want to.

Shota wondered if any of the other hero courses would mind the exercise. That way Kohaku could be exposed to more, so she could learn. He'd have to have his wife take her to sit with the class beforehand. So she knew them. Then he'd take on the day of exercise. Just in case her quirk needed erasing.

"Enough of this," Iida yelled, finally. "We've nearly completed the exercise. Just a few more minutes, then you can argue about this outside."

Bakugo huffed. Kohaku became visible again and wriggled out of Hagakure's grasp. She went back to Bakugo. Pa, pa, pa!

"Yeah, pa," he groaned. He lit his hands up. But everyone nearly ran as Kohaku became an inferno. The flames were wild. Blazing and licking at people. She tottered from side to side. Melting the snow Todoroki had created.

As she tried to run off, fire still uncontrollable, Shota thought it was time to step in. He leapt down and joined his students.

"That's enough, Kohaku," he scolded. His eyes glowed and his hair flowed around him. Her flames were immediately doused. She tried to flick them back on a few times. But nothing worked. She wailed as she realized she couldn't do it anymore. "If you can't use your quirk responsibly, then you aren't going to use it at all."

Shota picked Kohaku up. She must've been getting tired from using her quirk, and playing so much the last few hours. She was getting cranky. But Shota knew she'd zonk in the car seat on the way home.

"We're calling it early, Kohaku is tired," Shota said. He wanted to add and so am I, to the end of it but refrained. "I'm proud of how each and every one of you did today. Surprisingly, you all passed. Congratulations. You're better with children than I thought."

"So - no Midnight?!" Ashdio asked excitedly.

Shota shook his head. "No, you saved yourselves. Barely."

"Uh, should someone take Deku to Recovery Girl?" Asui asked, leaning over his slumped form by the wall. "I think he knocked himself out earlier."

"Asui, you and Uraraka take Midoriya to the nurse's office while I finish up here."

Uraraka went and lightened up Midoriya, then her and Asui made their way out the door.

"Todoroki, Kirishima, Hagakure, Bakugo - you all get extra credit. If you don't need, or want it, you're more than welcome to give it to someone else. Just let me know who."

"I know exactly what I'm using mine for!" Hagakure cheered.

"C'mon, man," Kaminari groaned, tugging at Bakugo's sleeve. "I know you have perfect grades! Give me your credit!"

Bakugo glared. "Get off me!"

Kirishima awkwardly went up to his teacher. He grinned shyly. "Hey, Mr. Aizawa, if you ever want a babysitter, I'd be more than happy to watch Kohaku. Whenever you need."

"I'm sure she'd like that. I'll keep that in mind," Shota noted. And he would. Kohaku really seemed to like him, and he and his wife hadn't gone on a date in ages.

"Mr. Aizawa, is that all for today's exercise?" Iida asked. "Are we free to go?"

"Yes. But first - I just wanted to say thanks to all of you," Shota started. "You all did well handling her. There doesn't seem to be a scratch on her. She's learned a lot, but still has a long way to go. I know she'll keep today with her, even when she's older." Shota checked the time. They really had made it to the end of the day without an incident. "You're all free to go."

"Hey, Mr. Aizawa," Ashido started as the group left the facility. "Why did you bring Kohaku today?"

"Because even nurses have sick days."

Kohaku slept on the way home, and while in the store. Shota couldn't wait to get home and tell his wife about his day. The one he'd planned all for her. He was sure she'd cry laughing so hard. It was all worth it if he could cheer her up, even a little bit.

The house was dark and quiet when they got in. He didn't bother flicking on any lights. Just in case it woke up Kohaku. Instead just setting down his things and going to look for his wife. She was curled up in their bed asleep in a mountain of tissues, some DVD rolling credits on her laptop. Shota laughed to himself.

He moved everything and laid Kohaku down next to her mother. His stories would have to wait. For the time being, it was family nap time. That was truly the perfect ending to the day.

Taglist

@spiderwinchester @sinclairsamess @dudesorriso @burningdragonfarmpainter @just-a-generic-username

@lucinda-barnes-black @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy @heathers-inner-thoughts @cherraybomb @give-a-rookie-a-cookie @babayaga67 @asaucecoveredsomething @izzythefanfreak @blazelover132 @jacobsmemesibling @theravencawsatmidnight

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imaginewarehouse · 4 years ago

Text

Various Males x Fem!ExModel!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You, a retired model get hired at Cloud 9 and, not-at-all-surprisingly, you get harassed by every allegeable (According to them) bachelor in the place- but god fucking damnit! You’re just here to get a paycheck??!

“You can’t knock ‘em out, you cant walk away,

Try desperately to think about the politest way to say,

“Just get out of my face,”, “Just leave me alone,”

“And no you cant have my number,”,

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

(Inspired by Lily Allen’s Knock ‘Em Out)

Includes (In order of appearance after the introduction bit): Sal Kazlauskas, Garret McNeil, Tate Staskiewicz, Isaac (And I think my favouritism here definitely bleeds through*Cough*), Elias Greene, Cory, Jonah Simms, and Marcus White.

Warnings: Sal, harassment (They leave after you say no though. Just to be sure)

🔆 🔆 🔆

“And uh, yeah one last thing before we all hop off to work! We have a new Cloud 9 family member. Y/N! Would you like to stand up?” Glenn, the lovely man who took your interview a week ago and then went out of his way today to look for you out front in the morning to show you around quickly and guide you through clocking in, finds you in the crowd of workers and gestures for you to stand.

Oh, uh- uhh, okay! Up we get, then, you think as you stand up like he said and take a look around at all the judging eyes, which normally wouldn’t phase you but here is a lot scarier than what you’re used to. This an entirely different environment to getting up at a modelling gig- you know nothing about working this kind of job! You’ve never done it, so, you’re afraid they’ll judge you right off the bat and make it difficult for you to ask questions. And you can’t keep bothering Glenn- he has more important things to do.

Oh god, you hear whispering. You peer around. Where is that coming from?-

“This is Y/N L/N! She’ll be working with Go back’s today,” Right, Go Back’s Easy enough; Glenn explained them earlier before the meeting started. “So if you see her in your area- be sure to say hello and see if she needs some help, K? Good. We’re jazzed to have you with us Y/N.”

“Thank you!” You quip quickly, then sit down and focus on Glenn again, hoping dearly at the same time that attention disperses from you immediately.

Glenn smiles, glancing down at his clipboard for any last-minute messages. “Okay! I think that’s it, so- “

The whispering from before suddenly cuts off. “Uh yeah, question?” Glenn stops short when a man in the back kind of rudely cuts him off, but sighs out a ‘Yes, Marcus?’ as the woman beside him - Dina, - rolls her eyes severely. Oh, you let a tiny ghost of a smirk slip over your lips. That’s kind of a reaction, isn’t it? “Yo- new girl.” What- me- w h y- You immediately get awkward again and twist around in your chair, but don’t really know who to look at. Luckily the tall brunette in the warehouse uniform is pointing, so you figure it out pretty quick that that’s who you’re looking for, and calm down. Mostly.

Yeah? You raise one eyebrow. “Hi?”

He grins back to the right and the left of him, to his equally pleased buddies and pals, before raising a Vogue magazine- and it’s the issue on which you scored the front page. Jeez, that was months ago! “Is this you?”

A chorus of ‘Ohhhhh’ and general excitement travels around the room and for the first time ever, you’re half ashamed to admit that yes that is you. In your usual circle this is something to be proud of… but you get that it isn’t really like that, in non-modelling circles. In fact, it could be something to be embarrassed about.

Especially seeing that oh dude and his gang of Michael Myers fashion wannabes look like a hungry, dim-witted, wolves rather than plainly interested about your modelling career.

But, still, you smile politely and nod. Hopefully it’ll be forgotten before the afternoon, at least. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice.”

Hmm… you really, really hope that it’s forgotten soon, at least, as you turn back around to face the front again as Glenn sends everyone off to work. Because if not, then these boys are going to learn the hard way that models take self-defence classes religiously.

Or at least you are going to have a very uncomfortable day, which is just great. You groan inwardly at the thought, as you gather up your coffee from the table beside you and drop it in the trash can on the way out.

You’re just doing your own thing and someone

Comes out of the blue,

They’re like,

“Alright”

But he’s saying

“Yeah can I take your digits?”

And you’re like, “No, not in a million years, you’re nasty.

Please leave me alone.”

There’s already so many Go Back’s! You think excitedly, as you get to work looking for where things should be. You’re glad to have something to do- at your first job with Chuck E Cheese, before you got into the modelling thing, you were basically useless the first day because you weren’t allowed to grill yet, you didn’t know how to assemble, and they didn’t want you out on the floor for the birthday party that was happening, in fear that you would mess up royally. So you just sat around trying not bother anyone, and that felt terrible. So, wandering the aisles of Cloud 9 with a full shopping trolley searching for products and neatening things up? Sounds like a good deal to you. Yes please.

“Uhh, hi.”

You practically jump entirely out of your skin, hearing the voice right beside you and whip your head around to see a balding guy in a blue Cloud 9 jacket. Is this man licking his fingers!?

“Uh,” You step back with your brightest, most polite smile, picking something up from the Go Back’s cart and rounding it to put it between you and the man, before acting like you’re stupid enough to be putting barbecue sauce in the Barbie section, and then… “Oh, oops! Silly me!” You flash the guy a nervous look. “I’m still working things out… “

Well? Better to look like an absolute idiot, then be standing within grabbing radius of the creepy man licking his fingers that you’re all alone in the middle of an empty aisle with. “Um… so, what’s up? Did someone send you to find me, or… am I doing something wrong? You know better than me, after all!”

“No… “His gaze licks up your form and if it weren’t for all your ‘training’ in staying still and not feeling this kind of thing- you absolutely would have wigged out. “You’re doing fine… Just wanted to see you.”

Boy- if anyone else could see your face right at this moment, full of disgust and mild horror, you’re sure you would be YouTubes next hit. Or a meme. “Oh… “You nervously chuckle. “Um, well, I’m gonna… go… “You pull the trolley around so that you can back up out the back of the aisle and escape through stuffed toys, into the open but his hand comes down on the other end of the trolley- stopping it. Before you can stop yourself, verbal diarrhoea spews from your lips. “Glenn has my resume- there’s a photo on there you can have.”

“That’s okay I prefer them to be breathing.” Both his hands are on the end of your trolley now, tight so his knuckles turn white, and he’s breathing unnecessarily heavy. He’s even leaning over the trolley some like his body really can’t handle whatever terrible heat is plaguing it right now. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god… this is so gross.

“Well, that’s… u-understandable...”

He looks up into your eyes, now, and doesn’t blink. Who the hell is this guy?! “Say… “ Oh no, oh no- he’s coming around the trolley-he’s coming around-he’s close-too close-too close-mayday-MAYDAY- Slowly, in your face, he licks up his thumb, makes an ‘Mm,’ sound, and you deeply wince; So much so in fact that one of your eyes completely closes. “Could I take your phone number?”

You absolutely couldn’t have helped what happened next if you had wanted to.

“Eeeeuuuwwwwwwww no not in a million years, your nasty, please leave me alone!!” You exclaim in a high voice before abandoning the trolley and rushing off to customer service.

“No you cant have my number,”

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

By the time you got to the front desk, you had basically calmed down and were mostly just stressed that you left the Go Back’s behind- but still must look troubled as the guy manning the front desk makes a confused, half-concerned but mostly intrigued kind of face at you as you stop there. You’re about to explain your appearance - that or just shrug, not too bothered about reporting whatever mess that was. Not on your first day, at least. No way. - when his face relaxes, and he nods. “Ohhh. Damn, Sal got to you?”

Sal? Was that the guy’s name? You didn’t check. “Oh, was that his name? I was a bit too preoccupied by his eyeballs sucking out my soul, to notice his name tag.” Now that you’re thinking about it, though, you glance at this man’s name tag. Garret.

“Yep, that’s Sal. That’s just one of the wonderful things involved in working here that you’ll just have to get used to.” Garret grins, offering you a chill perspective with a side of cynicism. You sigh, truly feeling relieved that you’ve found a normal person and relax your back against the taller part of the desk.

“Brilliant.” The sarcasm drips off the tip of your tongue.

“You’ll have to deal with a lotta that here, though, looking like you do.” You turn your head to the side to look already exhausted just by the idea, at him. He shrugs. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just speak the truth.”

“God- I feel sorry for the other women working here.”

“Oh, no. They’re in a completely different wheelhouse to you. Sorry.” Garret leans on his forearms on the desk, and you roll over to lean on your shoulder and pay attention. “See, you’re a model- “

“I was a model,”

“You were a model- which through primitive male thought process makes you prime real estate. Whoever manages to ‘bag’ you, for lack of a better word I apologise, gets some serious bragging rights.” He shrugs, and looks vaguely apologetic but still some how shameless as this utter bullshit slips out of his mouth. “We can’t help it- some of us don’t even know we’re doing that, but we are. Actually, I’m probably the only one who’ll admit it… which… kinda makes me your best option. Self-awareness, and all that.”

Oh. A dry laugh comes out of you as you feel a text come through in your back pocket and pull out your phone. As you see that its not an urgent message, you immediately put the phone back and glance around for any supervisors before returning to your conversation with Garret. “Oh- of course it does.”

“Exactly!” He grins, and you can’t tell through his expression at all whether he’s genuinely this clueless or if he’s just shooting his shot. “So- “

“No, you can’t have my number.”

“Why?”

Deadass, in a very monotone voice, you say: “I lost my phone.”

Then the two of you just have a stare off for a minute. Garret because he just saw you use your phone, and you because you wont back down.

“Oh yeah, actually yeah I’m, I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby in like 6 months, so no. Yeah, yeah… “

“You know,” The chemist pipes up from behind the Pharmacy desk as you put back some pill boxes he said were fine to return to the shelves, and you glance over at him to show you’re listening, and check his name tag. “I myself considered a career in modelling, before this. People even say, now, that I could model.”

Oh boy. You think, fighting not roll your eyes. And how old are you? Early 30’s? I don’t think so buddy.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t recommend it.” You flash him a nervous grin before returning to your shelving. “You’re good for, like, 3 years. But then you hit 22 and unless you look like Victoria Justice shared with you whatever youth fountain she got chucked into, then you have to find something else to do with your life- despite having nothing to fall back on.” Okay… so… I might be a bit bitter.

Tate chuckles - and oh boy, he sounds just like your old manager. Totally fake, -, hiding his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Yeah, you’re probably right… Besides, I got the better end of the deal, anyway. Doctor for the doctors, they call us.” They call Pharmacists that? Who? That’s news to you. “Ahhh, yeah… I’m doing pretty well for myself.”

“Yep.” Forcing a fake smile his way, you leave the shelf you were stocking and get closer to the desk to stock another, as Tate’s eyes follow you waiting for encouragement of some kind. Doesn’t he have a job to do?? “You chose well!”

“Yeah, thanks. I know.” Ffffff-f a r out. This guy! “You know, you and me, we’d make a good couple.”

Oh? Dear god? You pause your shelving in surprise at the bomb this man has just dropped so casually, fish oil tablets paused on their journey to the shelf mid-air. Could Garret’s crazy-pants theory have been right?

“Ohh,” You giggle nervously, returning to work a bit faster now. “I don’t know. I think for a pharmacist like you, I would envision, like… “An actual doctor? No, I can’t say that. “A personal trainer, or something. Keep you both healthy all-round, you know? Now that’s a power team.” As long as that personal trainer has humility enough for the both of them, at least.

“Mergh,” He makes a face, like ‘What the heck are you talking about??’, before shaking his head of the things you just said and leaning over the desk towards you. You keep packing, even faster now. Like the Flash. Go! Go! Go! Death Con 5!! “So, whadaya say? I could pick you up Friday after work, and we could head up to one of my timeshares?” He says that like it’s such a selling point! You think, fighting off the powerful urge to laugh but still feeling the panic deep in the pits of your soul. “Stake it out together for the weekend? Get to know each other?”

“Uhh… “Excuses! What are they? You slowly stop stocking, turning around to face him and crossing your arms. The man deserves to at least be faced as he’s rejected; You’re kind enough to give him that, at least. “I’d love to! But, the thing is… “Chewing your bottom lip, you think hard.

Ding Ding Ding!!

“The thing is, Tate… “You fake some nerves, now. “I’m actually, uh… “You look up, face relaxing. “Pregnant.”

Oh boy, the way that man recoils at that word, like a terrified, disgruntled, blonde hedgehog. You’re going to laugh so hard about it, later!! “Oh.”

“Yeah! Oh, I mean, yeah… I’m gonna be having a baby, in like, 6 months so… yeah… Yep.“ You shrug to him, as if its just so unfortunate. “Shame.”

She looks in her bag, takes out a fag, tries to get away from the guy on a blag,

Can’t find a light.

‘’Here, use mine.’’

‘’See the thing is I just don’t have the time.’’

Ahh, lunch. Now you can check your texts! Hmm, you look through your notifications and gradually lose excitement. Mum… mum… mum… phone bill company… friend… mum again…

Ah, the glamorous life of the famous.

You roll your eyes, and get to responding to your mothers texts about dinner and when you’ll be home and how your first day is going, not noticing the not-so-jolly, not-so-green-(unless-you-meant-pot) giant approaching you. When you finally finish responding to both your mum and your friend, you put your phone away and start unwrapping your lunch- a typical ham sandwich that you’re actually pretty excited about. That’s one good thing about your sudden drop in financial status; You can put in your damn sandwich as many pieces of ham and cheese as you like. Grinning excitedly, you pick it up and have it halfway to your mouth before another person - a very heavy, large person, - drops down beside you on the bench you’ve commandeered behind the store. You close your mouth without any delicious lunch inside it and look up, politely to the person who’s joined you.

And all you can think, is wow.

He could put you in a suitcase and walk off with you right now and have no problems.

That’s wow.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” You introduce yourself, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I know.” Oh, well yeah okay that’s understandable. Glenn did introduce you to everyone this morning. Despite the man’s less-then-excited response, he takes your hand in his and shakes. It makes you all giddy inside, honestly. So b i g. “Names Isaac.”

Do you remember Isaac in the breakroom this morning? You wrack your brain for him, because surely if he was there you noticed him-

Oh. Yep, you remember him. He was one of that Marcus-Dude’s pals chuckling and whispering behind him. He was one of the men that had the magazine with you on the front, and if there’s one thing you know about men who carry Vogue in their locker’s it’s that they fit into only 2 groups- interested in fashion, obviously… and interested in the women. And this man clearly is not interested in fashion. Immediately, on this realisation, you feel disappointed- you really could have liked this man right off the bat…

But it looks like he’s just going to be another of the men at this store you have to get to know, before becoming friendly with.

“So,” He starts, and you fight off a wince. Hopefully, you don’t know what’s coming. But… the likeliness of that is not high. “You wanna go out, some time? I’m a big fan of your work.” He smirks.

“Oh, ha ha.” You laugh sarcastically, shaking your head and returning to your sandwich. You take a bite and- Ahhhhhh, so worth the wait. Oh my god. Food orgasm. “At least you’re honest!”

“Yeah, so is that a yes?” His face brightens a smidgeon, which is a lot seeing as he doesn’t seem to be totally all there, in the first place.

You look up at Isaac, and look apologetic. He was honest with you so its only fair that you’re genuine with him. “Sorry… “

“Ah- actually, I don’t know if this’ll change your mind, but I have 2 weeks to live, so… “

Never mind on that honesty thing, then.

Dull-eyed, you stare up at him. “… Uh-huh.”

“Its true! I have, uh, cancer.” He insists, nodding his head and forcing his eyebrows up his forehead all serious-like.

“Cancer.” Right.

“Yep.”

Right, time to look in the bag... You start to wrap up your lunch again - sadly, as now you’ll have to wait until the end of the day and the bus ride home to eat it, - and plop it back away in your bag, getting up and pulling out a cigarette instead- that should hold you over until the end of the day. “My lunch break is actually over, so I should go- Damn, where’s my light?“

Isaac rifles through his pockets until he pulls out an old looking neon orange lighter, and offers it to you. “Here, use mine.”

Oh, no. You stare at it like a deer in headlights. If you accept that, like you really want to right now because it’s been a month since your last smoke, then you have obligations to sit with him for another couple minutes, at least.

Aghh… You groan and whine on the inside, before making up your mind and flinging the cigarette into a puddle. “See the thing is, I don’t actually have the time-”

“Go away now, let me go.”

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Ughhh… “This one has been giving you looks all day, but had no courage until now to speak to you- but the thing is? He didn’t have the smarts, either, to take off his wedding ring at least before he decided to be a bastard and bother you. So you feel absolutely no regret about being exactly as dismissive or plain rude, as you feel. “Elias? Go away now.”

The nervous man, who’s been ringing his hands this whole time and stuttering through failed date requests that you pretended you didn’t understand because of his struggle, gets panicked. “Just let me ask!- Will, will you go out with me?”

“No.” You yawn, dropping a piglet toy into a basket.

“But!- “

Turning away, you start pushing your trolley along to get to the next aisle. “Let me go.”

“We can go wherever you like!”

Sighhhhhhhhh. You turn around and grant him an audience, putting your hands on your hips and raising you brows at the wedding band on his left hand.

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Please fuck off.”

Oh good god in heaven, they’re going bigger with their proposals.

“Y/N! Will you go out with me?”

This man, Corey, has grabbed the announcement phone now that you’re walking away, making you freeze like the dad possum in Over The hedge and seriously consider playing dead, too, as you slowly turn around to look at him again.

Oh, if only looks could kill- he would be so dead that even Vlad the Impaler’s victims would laugh.

This is your first day, and the fact that you’re being harassed by multiple stupid men is bad enough but now he’s calling attention to you like this? Glenn’s going to think you’re a troublemaker!! Jesus fucking Christ- you need this job! Corey continues to talk into the speaker phone, even as he looks into your eyes and sees his death. “And… now… you’re looking at me like that, so uh… I’m just gonna… say please?”

… “’Please’ fuck off.”

“Yes ma’am-“

“Go away now, I’ve made myself clear.

I don’t think so.

Nah its not gonna happen.

Not in a million years.”

Since the run-in with Corey and the following spike in your blood pressure, you’ve calmed down again. But now you’re looking into the two faces of a ‘Mateo’, who you apparently work with, and a ‘Castor’ who does not work here and is not shopping but is still in your face and is t h i s close to feeding that ugly tie to his cousin.

But, still, you’re going to stay graceful, because Castor constantly looks like he’s 3 seconds from pooing himself. “Now please go away, now… I think I’ve made myself clear.” By explaining, politely, that you aren’t looking for a man but thank you for the offer, Castor.

“Oh, but you haven’t heard what Castor does for a living! He’s in insurance,” Mateo explains to you, like this is some huge game changer. When you don’t react, he adds that there’s good money, insurance.

You almost laugh. Does this boy really think you’re such a gold digger? Boy- if I wanted riches then I could’ve easily become a C-Class actor who has no skills in the area, but is pretty so gets praised like she does- like a lotta my model friends.

Instead I’m here, at Cloud 9.

Come to your own conclusions.

But instead of saying that, though, you just shake your head nervously. “I don’t think so… “

“But!- “

“Nah… sorry, its… not gonna happen… “

“But Castor is- “

“Not in a million years… “

“Aw, no. I gotta go. My house is on fire.”

Now, at least this one is respectful, you think, listening to him talk about the products you’re shelving together. He had come over and offered to give you a hand when you looked confused, as a ‘Cheyanne’ had handed you a scanner earlier and then promptly ran off, despite your utter incompetence. You were so relieved that this guy turned up!!

“… so, you just punch in reduce .50, and scan! Its pretty easy, if you have it properly explained to you. I- I was actually in the same situation, as you! When I first started here, except I ended up, uh, reducing all the items in electronics to 15 cense rather than discounting it all 15 percent.” A grin spreads across your lips at the story, and thank god that Jonah had turned up before that happened to you and, with your luck, you got fired for it.

“Oh no!”

“Yeah- Amy, our uh, floor supervisor, was pretty cranky with me about that… “He laughs himself, resting his hands on his hips; Still looking nervous at the memory.

You look back down at the scanner you’re holding and shake your head. “Well at least you know, now! And thank you so much for coming to my aid, haha. I was so lost- you’ve been a huge help! A life saver, truly.”

“Yeah… “ He gives a cute little, reserved smile. “So, uh, its basically the end of the day! Hope you’re first day hasn’t been too strenuous. At the end of my first day, I know I was tired. But I got to go out with a couple of the other employees and have a drink, to destress. If-If you were free, we could… do something. Together.” Your eyebrows slowly raise up your forehead at that, and you turn to look up Jonah, sceptical. What was that? You sure have had a long day, and its about to get a lot longer if this boy is asking what you think he is. “Sorry! Sorry, that sounded weird. Um, I guess what I’m really asking, is… would you like to, I dunno, go out with me sometime? I know some great places.”

Oh, noooooo! You cry, on the inside. You thought you found a normal one!

Still, he is being so nice… The least you could do is let him down easily.

“Oh, Jonah, I actually… oh- sorry.” Your phone beeps in your pocket and you take it out quickly to have a glance - its just your mother… again, - … and suddenly get an idea. Feigning shock, you quickly put the phone away and put down the scanner. It’s time to clock out and go home, anyway, thank god. “I have to go! That was my mum, uh- I really have to go!”

“Wow, wow, wow, what’s wrong?? Can I help with anything?”

Oh… he looks so concerned. He’s sweet.

But before you can rethink your words, this living horror slips out. “My-my house is on fire.”

Oh god, you’re a horrible person.

“I’ve, I’ve got herpes. No- Syphilis!”

Oh thank god the day is over. Rolling your shoulders back, you kneel down at your bottom locker, open it up and take out your bag. Now you can go home and put on Gotham on Netflix, wear no pants and eat thin mints until you fall asleep.

When you get up, you aren’t watching out for a man to be standing barely half a foot away from you - Your mistake, obviously, - so you jolt right out of your skin when you see him and curse. What is wrong with these men? Does Cloud 9 offer complimentary staff ninja classes along with their lack of health insurance? Man, classy company. “Sorry!” You look up past the coveralls after stepping a safe distance back from him, and immediately feel dread deep in your chest. “Oh, hi. Marcus, was it?”

“That’s me! How was your first day?” He asks, seeming polite enough despite the fact that you’re cornered between tall boy and the lockers. And you’re too tired to try and slip away- this boy will get out of your way.

“It was good! Thanks for asking. I’m ready to go home and collapse, though.” You admit, shoulders dropping and a tired smile on your lips. Mmm… thin mints… bed… blankets… Cory Michael Smith… I can taste it… Marcus just needs to get out of my way.

“I hear that.” Evidently not quite as deeply, though, as he moves on pretty fast. “Listen- I was thinking if you’re into it we could… go out, some time.” He tilts his head forward to clarify, “On a date,”, in case that part hadn’t translated, and chuckles. “We could see a movie or get drinks, or something, I don’t know. How about tonight?”

T-tonight? The word nearly slips from your lips; All disbelief and tears and exhaustion, included. You’re so tired. “Um… you know, tempting offer, but um… “He looks so hopeful. It nearly changes your mind. “Not tonight.”

“OH! So like, tomorrow?” Oh christ- “Cuz I’m supposed to watch Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here with my mum, but… no, I can blow that off! So, tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, not really knowing what you can say. “Marcus… “He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “… I have herpes.”

“Wait, what??” He steps back, nearly tripping over a table in his fear that just being near you will cause him to contract the disease, and you let your guard down in relief. Yep, for sure, definitely. If it makes him back off, then yes- you have herpes. You have a raging, festering case of herpes.

“Yeah! Or-“ Squinting, you pretend to sift through your brain. “Was it Syphilis?” This boys eyes basically bulge out of his head and you’re totally going to laugh about it later, but right now you have to get out of there. You waive your hand dismissively and walk on by him towards the door like you don’t have a care in the world. Before you leave though, you turn around a flash Marcus a big smile. “Either way, ew, right? Well, see you tomorrow buddy! Gotta go! Enjoy I’m A Celebrity with your mum.” Then you’re gone.

Tomorrow is going to be a much better day, once that rumour is properly spread.

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