#i feel so smart maybe i should be an english teacher

[thepartyishere]

I had a groundbreaking day finishing beast. I was so worked up over it my sister mocked me for crying so I bothered her and my mom with explanations and commentary and theories about it for like 15 min before they went to bed

[videovamptramp]

you aren’t mine to lose

// you’ve had a crush on ellie since you were kids. you two have always been best friends; until she gets a girlfriend who ironically hates you. //

warnings: pinning, angst, stoner/dealer!ellie, modern day au, i can never write anything happy, this isn’t proof read so my grammatical errors may need a warning???

(you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her)

ellie has been your best friend since you were both 13. throughout high school, the two of you only grew closer. your mother often joked that you were both conjoined at the hip. everywhere ellie was, you were, and vice versa. your crush on ellie started a little after the first year of high school. the brunette has always been really nice to you; even if she was awkward, and didn’t understand very many social cues… ellie was your favorite person in the whole wide world.

your crush on ellie only got worse as the two of you got older. you even found yourself following her after graduation to the university of jackson. now it was your first year of college, and the two of you were still the best of friends. that is, until ellie got a girlfriend. in all honesty, you were a depressed wreck when ellie first started talking to tiffany. she was a blonde with blue eyes, and had a body that could stop a trucker from a mile away. she was perfect in every single way, and it was obvious why ellie liked her. it was also pretty obvious that tiffany hated you. ellie was, of course oblivious to the tension between you and the psych major, but you were pretty sure tiffany only hated you because she knew how you felt about ellie.

but that didn’t discourage you from keeping your friendship with the brunette you’ve come to love so much. you never expected ellie to return your feelings. in fact, that’s the main reason you’ve been so supportive of her relationship with tiffany from the beginning. sure, it made you sad and sometimes you didn’t want to talk to ellie, because all she’d talk about was tiffany… but you still tried really hard to text her and hang out with her. maybe it wasn’t as much as you two used to, but still, you were trying and that’s all that matters, right?

“so are you gonna be at jesse’s party tonight?” your roommate dina inquires curiously, as she folds some of her clothes. she pulls you out of your ellie-induced thoughts, causing you to pry your eyes away from the textbook you hadn’t been paying any attention to. “um, no. i have to study for my english seminar. mr. lydon always calls on me.” you half lie, and dina rolls her eyes playfully. “that’s because you practically know everything already. he’s impressed and probably gonna offer you a position as a student teacher next year.” she admits, and your eyes light up at the thought. you were majoring in english, because it’s always been your dream to be an english teacher or professor.

“you really think he’ll ask me? yara’s super smart and she’s been talking about wanting to be a student teacher since the year started.” you point out, while dina waves dismissively after putting some of her shirts away. “he’s definitely gonna ask you, y/n. you two are always talking about star wars and your weird love for the semi colon.” she taunts, making you blush in a bit of embarrassment. “it’s just… it’s a pause without a coma or period— never mind, you wouldn’t understand. science geek.” you tease your roommate back, causing her to gasp in mock offense as she reaches for a pair of folded socks, tossing them right at your face.

you giggle, and as your laughter dies down, dina flashes you a look. “you should really come tonight though. ellie’s gonna be there.” she continues to pick on you, but you can hear the slight seriousness in her tone. you groan, “which means tiffany is also gonna be there.” you counterpoint. you say the blonde’s name as if it’s venomous, and dina shakes her head, the annoyance on her face clear as water. “ugh, i hate her. i swear, if she tries to psycho analyze me because i had a bad day one more time, i’m going to punch her and ruin that nose job her daddy paid for.” dina states in a tone too serious to be a joke, and you flash her a look of surprise before you both burst into a fit of laughter.

“still, you should go with me tonight. word on the street is ellie and her have been arguing a lot lately.” dina confesses, and this seems to spike your interest. you quirk a brow in your roommates direction, ellie hasn’t told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. then again, you’ve barely been texting ellie about anything other than plans for group hangouts or memes. “what are they fighting about?” you ask, unable to hide the fact that you’re suddenly intrigued. dina shrugs, “i don’t know, but it seems pretty bad. i heard tiffany yelling the other day. like at the top of her lungs yelling. i think the dorm rep had to get involved.” she explains, and your eyes widen a bit.

why didn’t ellie tell me anything?

“look, we can go with our matching flare jeans!” dina holds up the pair of black jeans she had just washed; they were your favorite pair because they had hearts on them. you shake your head, offering her a small smile. “fine. i’ll go; but if i get anything less than a eighty on tomorrow’s assignment, i’m blaming you.” you warn her playfully, and the grin on dina’s face makes your smile widen. you close the book you had long forgotten about, and get up; deciding to pick out your outfit for tonight. you settle on the flare jeans and a black furry sweater that’s too small to even keep you warm. your hair is still a bit damp from your shower earlier, but you let down both of your braids anyways; allowing the semi-curly hair to fall down. after putting on some mascara and lipgloss, you aimlessly scroll through tiktok while you wait for dina to finish getting ready.

by the time the raven haired girl is finished, jesse is texting the group chat, letting you both know the kegs are full and ready. apparently ellie was supplying the weed, and one of jesse’s friends was bringing bottles of liquor along with some packs of beer. “you should text ellie and tell her you’re gonna come.” dina suggests, as you both make your way out of your dorm hall, stepping out into the horrid cold. “so… you and jesse…” you trail off, a tiny smirk etched onto your lips. you can see dina blushing under one of the lampposts, causing you to chuckle. “jeez, d, you really like this guy huh?” you question and her blush deepens; her cheeks turning crimson red.

“he’s sweet… i know we just met earlier this year, but i feel like i really know him. you know? like i know his heart.” dina explains, and you smile brightly. “wow, i never thought i’d hear you talking about someone in such a sappy way.” you poke fun at her, but your friend can hear the softness in your voice and see the fondness in your eyes. dina grins, “yeah, well, who knows, he might get lucky tonight.” she half jokes and you gasp, throwing your head back while releasing a howling laugh.

when you get to the frat house, there’s already hoard of people there. the music is loud, but not too loud, so for that you’re sort of grateful. jesse finds you both a minute after you two walk in; he has a large smile on his face and his varsity jacket hanging off his back. “hello ladies.” he says, his smile more directed to dina. “hey jesse, is ellie here yet?” you ask curiously, trying to sound nonchalant, but he can see right through you. he nods, “yup! she’s in the back rolling a few j’s. you can head back there and say hi if you want. she’s alone.” he clarifies, and you smile gratefully. “thanks! i’ll see you guys in a minute. save me a dance, party girl.” you tell dina, and she nods. “you better come find me to dance!” she warns, and you giggle as you begin to make your way to the back of the frat house.

the only bedroom downstairs is usually used for seven minutes in heaven, or for movie nights. when you push your way into the bedroom the room is full of smoke, and you spot ellie sitting on the bed. she’s wearing a buttoned up flannel shirt, and those old faded jeans that you love on her. she’s staring out of the closed window, seemingly deep in thought; her short brown hair barely reaches the nape of her neck, and you can’t help but stare for a minute as you lean against the doorframe. she takes another drag of the joint, inhaling the smoke and keeping it in her throat before releasing it. “hey there.” you pull her out of her thoughts, causing her to snap her head in your direction.

ellie’s eyes change as soon as they land on you. her face expression goes soft. “hey. what are you doing here?” she questions, her voice light but clearly confused. “dina convinced me to come.” you explain shortly as you walk in, inching closer to ellie. you don’t seem to notice the way those pale green eyes seem to roam up and down your body as you stand in front of her. she holds the joint out, offering you some. ellie knows you love to smoke, you’re not a drinker, but you’ve always been a smoker. growing up, you were the only one who was always down to get high with ellie. it was, shamefully her favorite thing. getting high alone or with anyone else wasn’t the same for her.

you gladly take it, placing the joint between your lips before fixing your sweater, and taking the lit joint out of your mouth. you hold the smoke while you hand it back to ellie, offering her a cute little smile that makes something in her chest clench. you cough a little after exhaling the smoke, and it makes her chuckle. “good?” she asks, and you nod, “what strain as that?” you wonder out loud, “cherry chem.” she answers vaguely, placing the joint between her own lips as she reaches into her backpack, retrieving a little wooden box. you watch inquisitively as she opens the box and reveals a bunch of freshly rolled joints.

“here.” she says as she pulls out five and hands them to you. you shake your head, “no, it’s okay—“ she cuts you off, “you don’t wanna get too drunk tonight, do you, princess?” she asks, the old nickname causing you to blush under her droopy, hooded eyes. you reluctantly accept them, knowing ellie is right. you always get too drunk when you don’t smoke in order to level yourself out. “thanks els.” you thank her with that god damn smile on your face, and ellie feels as if the sun is shining on her face. you make her feel so warm.

“sit down.” she says, handing you the nearly finished joint, as she pats the empty space right beside her. you scrunch your nose in disgust, “no way, i saw joan sanders come in here with tommy last month. i know what happens on this bed.” you says in a prissy tone that causes ellie to laugh. “such a priss.” she mutters as she pulls you by your hips and causes you to fall onto the bed right next to her. you gasp, pushing her arm roughly. “ellie!” you squeal in disgust, but you get a whiff of her cologne that causes your head to go fuzzy. your face is hot, and ellie is smirking at you in a way that causes the butterflies in your belly to repopulate.

“it’s almost finished.” you scowl, and ellie shrugs as she snatches the joint out of your hands, tossing it into the ashtray. “i’ll light another one. unless you got somewhere to be.” she raises a brow, and you shake your head, flashing her a puzzled look. “aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with tiffany tonight? you guys are always at every party together.” you point out, and you notice the way ellie tenses at the sound of her girlfriends name. her demeanor shifts as she reaches for another joint, and lights it.

“she’s with her friends tonight. you know ashley and miley?” she asks with clear disdain on her face. you nod, “i know of them. they’re on the cheer team right?” you respond with a question, and she merely nods. “yeah. she’s with them i think.” ellie mutters, and you go quiet for a minute. “dina told me you guys have been fighting lately...” you start, and ellie rolls her eyes. “… why didn’t you tell me anything?” you ask her, and she shrugs. “didn’t wanna bother you with my dumb ass relationship problems.” she mumbles, as she hands you the joint.

you throw her a look of surprise, “your problem are not dumb, ellie.” you say sternly, and she scoffs. “they are. she’s… she’s being stupid.” she murmurs, and you furrow your brows. you’ve never heard ellie speak negatively about tiffany before. if anything, whenever she’d bring the blonde up she’d have this dorky grin on her face. now she looks exhausted. “what happened?” you ask carefully, and ellie freezes. you’ve known each other for years and ellie tells you everything; yet she doesn’t want to tell you about the this. the more you think about it, the more you realize ellie’s never told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. not even once.

she seems to have put a wall up for the first time without you even noticing. have you really been pulling away that much, that you didn’t even notice something’s been going on with her? in your defense, you were only pulling away from her to protect your heart. you knew ellie could never want you the way you want her, and whenever you saw her with tiffany, it hurt.

she shakes her head refusing to tell you. “it’s nothing.”

your brows knit together, she’s never shut you out about anything. ellie’s even told you all of the embarrassing things about herself; she was an open book with no filter when it came to you… but right now it seemed like she didn’t want to tell you what the arguments between her and tiffany are about. the silence in the room is thick, and you can hear the muffled music coming from behind the door. you open your mouth to speak, but jesse rushes into the room, “hey ellie, dani wants to know if she can buy a few joints off you.” the dark haired boy states causing ellie to get up. “yeah, sure. come on, wanna get a drink?” ellie asks you. you nod, standing up and following the brunette and jesse out of the room.

there’s even more people here than there was when you first arrived, and as you check your phone, you realize you were with ellie for nearly thirty minutes. ellie reaches for your hand so she doesn’t lose you in the crowd, and you gladly take it. your stomach flips as soon as your skin meets hers, and she leads you over to the kitchen. jesse walks up to dani with you and ellie not far behind, and your eyes wander around the crowded area as ellie begins to make a deal with the basket ball player. ellie squeezes your hand when she’s done, and the smile she flashes you makes your knees weak.

“whatcha’ want to drink?” she asks you with that cute raspy voice that drives you crazy. “just a cranberry vodka, if you guys have any cranberry juice.” ellie’s sure you don’t mean to look up at her with those sexy lidded eyes, but you do and she finds her mouth going dry. “coming right up.” she winks at you, and nearly grimaces at how awkward she is. you giggle while she makes your drinks, the buzz from ellie’s weed barely now hitting you. you’re partially reminded of why you’ve been trying not to smoke; because whenever you’re high, ellie is all you can think about. it makes you sad knowing she’s probably thinking about making up with her girlfriend right now.

ellie hands you your drink first, before making her own. you take a sip, grimacing at the strong taste of alcohol, “ellie!” the girly voice nearly causes you to wince as tiffany bounces up to the brunette; wrapping her arms around the back of ellie’s neck. you don’t see the way ellie forces a smile because your eyes are now glued to the red drink in your cup. “hey babe.” ellie greets her girlfriend, and the term of endearment causes a pang of pain to linger in your chest. you take a swig of your drink, and ellie looks over at you apologetically. you flash her a small, reassuring smile yet she can see it isn’t your usual smile.

ellie wants to say something to you, but before she can, dani makes her way back to you both. “uh, hey y/n.” the basketball player greets you, and you gratefully find an excuse to pry your gaze off of ellie and tiffany. “hey dani. how did you do on mr. lyndon’s quiz yesterday?” you ask her, and ellie tries not frown as she notices the way the taller girls eyes wander over your body. “i did terrible! i can’t believe midterms are next week. i’m not ready.” the tall girl admits and amusement glints in your eyes as you look up at her. “i like your necklace, by the way.” she adds, complimenting the silver necklace dangling off your collar bone. you smile brightly, your fingers going to play with the necklace your mother gave you before you left to college. you and your sisters all have the same one.

“thanks. my mom got it for me when i turned eighteen. i like your jacket.” you pull on the ends of her varsity jacket, batting your eyes up at her, and tiffany frowns as you don’t notice that ellie’s hard gaze is fixated on you. tiffany definitely notices, and it causes her to scowl. “wanna go smoke?” dani asks, pulling a joint out of her pocket. you grin, but ellie intervenes. “i already smoked her out.” the brunette clarifies, locking eyes with the jock and flashing her a warning look that makes you frown. dani looks at you, ignoring ellie and smirking right at you. “wanna go for round two, princess?” she asks, and something in ellie’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the sound of dani calling you “princess”.

“sure. i’m always down to smoke.” you say, and you flash ellie a look that she doesn’t recognize before you wrap yourself around the jocks arm. ellie keeps her eyes on you as you disappear out of the kitchen with dani, “looks like dani is getting lucky tonight.” tiffany declares, pulling ellie out of her thoughts. if ellie weren’t so preoccupied with thinking about you and dani, she would’ve found that comment strange. but ellie is high and she isn’t thinking about anything other than you giving those eyes to dani walsh.

ellie’s face twists at the mere thought of you hooking up with the raven haired girl tonight. ellie can’t come up with a single reason why she feels so upset about it; you’re single after all, and dani is undoubtedly every girls type. she shakes her head, “no. y/n’s not that kind of girl.” ellie says more to herself than to her girlfriend. tiffany scoffs, “did you not see what i saw? your friend is totally into her.” tiffany says as she takes ellie’s cup and takes a swig. she makes a face, “ugh. cranberry? seriously, ellie? you know i hate cranberry.” she mutters in disgusts, and ellie flashes her a sheepish smile.

“sorry, it was y/n’s drink choice.” the brunette replies, and tiffany rolls her eyes. “what?” ellie asks, detecting the clear annoyance that came from her saying your name. “nothing.” tiffany mutters and ellie rolls her eyes, a wave of frustration washing over her. “seriously, what’s wrong? you look pissed.” ellie points out, and the shorter girl flashes her a sardonic expression. “oh, now you noticed? you’ve been so preoccupied with y/n tonight, you haven’t even talked to me!” she snaps, and ellie’s eyes widen. “what!? you’re the one who ditched me as soon as we got here to hang out with your friends! what do you want me to do? follow you around like a puppy all night?” ellie begins to raise her voice, losing her cool.

“no i don’t want that! i want you to care about me more than you care about y/n!” she shouts, and ellie shakes her head in bewilderment. “what the fuck is your problem with her?! y/n’s my best friend, and i love her! i love you too, but fuck, tiffany!” ellie is clearly losing all the cool inside of her body, if she was angry before she’s even angrier now. “but what?” the blonde challenges, crossing her arms and flashing ellie a stern look. ellie goes quiet, “say it.” tiffany adds demandingly, and ellie scoffs, “say what?” she mumbles, playing dumb. “what you’ve always known but never had the balls to admit. you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” tiffany snaps, and ellie can only stare at her with inscrutable features etched onto her face.

the silence is telling, and it seems to give tiffany the only answer she needs. “i’m done coming second in this relationship, ellie. you have to tell me right now… do you love me more or her?” tiffany’s voice is harsh and up for no debates. ellie lets out a breathless chuckle, more so because she’s surprised at the absurd question. “are you serious?” she questions, her voice laced with pure disbelief. tiffany is staring at her as if ellie is the crazy one, and it just now hits ellie that you’ve been alone with dani for over fifteen minutes.

“i don’t have time for your shit tonight, dani. y/n’s cross faded and i’m not gonna let her go home with some sleaze from the basketball team, all because you’re jealous.” she hisses, as she turns around to walk away, but tiffany stops her by reaching out and grabbing her arm. ellie spins and around to face her girlfriend; her patience wearing thin. “i’m jealous!? ellie, look at you! you’re going crazy because y/n might hook up with someone else!” she exasperatedly snaps, and the words seem to knock some sense into ellie. she glances down at her shoes, a bit ashamed; “look me in the eye and tell me right now that you’re not in love with her.” the shorter girl demands. ellie’s eyes lock with tiffany’s piercing blue eyes, and all she can think about is you.

you and your smile. you and your laugh. the way you say her name, and how you remember everything she says. the tiny scar on your back nobody else knows about. the way your eyes light up when you’re excited…

ellie wants to say no. she wants to be a good girlfriend and assure tiffany that she’s in love with her and only her… but as she thinks about your soft eyes being directed at some jock looking to get “lucky”, ellie knows she can’t say it. tiffany lets out a scoff, shaking her head before loosening her grip on ellie’s wrist. “you can’t even say it! you can’t even look at me and lie about it!” tiffany pushes her finger into ellie’s chest, and ellie feels an overwhelming sense of guilt as she begins to calm down. her thoughts seem to rationalize but she knows she’s already fucked up. “tiff…” she trails off, and the cheerleader shakes her head, tears pooling in her baby blue eyes.

“just go get her before she leaves with dani.” tiffany sounds defeated, and a part of ellie is telling her to stay and fix things with tiffany, but there’s a loud voice in her head telling her to go and make sure you haven’t left with that other girl. ellie doesn’t say anything else as she walks out of the kitchen, leaving dani alone. she’s certain whatever was left of the relationship is now over, but she can’t seem to care. you’re the only thing on her mind as her gaze flitters all over the room in search for you. her eyes zero in on dina who is dancing with someone ellie barely knows; the brunette doesn’t think twice before interrupting.

“have you seen y/n? she’s with dani and she’s pretty faded. i wanna make sure she’s okay.” ellie rushes the words out, sounding like a nervous wreck. dina stops dancing for a moment, raising a brow, “uh, i just talked to y/n like four minutes ago, she seemed fine. she said her and dani were gonna smoke and maybe walk back to her dorm.” dina winks insinuatingly, and ellie’s heart falls into the pit of her stomach.

“shit… did they leave through the front or back?” ellie sounds apprehensive, and it causes a wave of confusion to wash over the raven haired girl. “the front i think… wait why does it matter?” dina questions, and ellie shakes her head. “because all dani wants to do is get in y/n’s pants.” ellie hisses, and dina raises her brows in slight shock at the sudden outburst. she watches ellie rush off, and before she can think about chasing after her best friend, jesse swoops in and pushes past the guy dina had been dancing with. “mind if i cut in?” jesse asks hopefully, and dina nods happily, quickly forgetting about you and ellie.

ellie goes out the front door of the frat house, and her eyes flicker around in search for you. when her eyes land on you, her stomach knots up as she sees you’re now wearing dani’s jacket and saying something that ellie can’t make out. her eyes widen and her mind races, as you two begin walking in the direction of the dorm rooms. ellie’s heart nearly stops beating, and it’s like her body has a mind of its own as she begins to rush over in your direction. “y/n wait!” she calls out and you stop in your tracks, spinning around at the sound of your best friends voice.

“ellie?” you sound confused; whenever her and tiffany get together during a party like this, you almost never see her till the next day. “is everything okay?” you ask as she stalks up to you. she has this unrecognizable look etched onto her face, “i just… i needed to talk to you—“ ellie cuts herself off when she sees the smile that was on your face drop. “is it tiffany? did you guys fight again?” you ask, clearly concerned. dani looks at you, then ellie, “i can give you two a minute of you want.” she tells you, and you offer her a grateful smile. “i’ll be right there.” you promise, and ellie hates how soft your gaze is when it’s directed at the jock.

dani offers you an annoyingly charming smile before walking a few feet away from you and ellie. “what’s wrong? what happened with tiffany?” you you ask her, and ellie shakes her head. “since when is dani your type?” she completely ignores your question, going straight for what’s been bugging her all night. you look taken back by the disdain in her voice, causing you to let out a breathless chuckle. “how is she not my type? she’s cute, and nice…” you trail off, and ellie blows a raspberry with her mouth. “so that’s all it takes for you to hookup with someone?” she practically interrogates you, causing you to frown.

“excuse me?” you respond, the offense in your tone clear as day. “what’s your problem? just because we’re hitting it off and i’m going to let her walk me back to my dorm, doesn’t mean i’m going to let her screw me, ellie!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down in order for dani not to hear. the brunette scoffs, “yeah, sure, did you see the way you were looking at her? plus you’re wearing her fucking jacket, and she’s been smoking you out… she thinks she’s getting lucky tonight.” ellie sounds angrier than you’ve ever heard, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks, ellie. she’s not getting lucky tonight unless i say so!” you snap.

“besides, why do you even care so much about what i do with dani!? shouldn’t you be up tiffany’s ass like you always are?!” you know you sound much harsher than you ever do, which is why ellie suddenly has this kicked dog-like expression on her face. “i-i don’t care! i just don’t think it’s cool how she started preying on you and trying to get you all high. she’s a sleaze!” ellie argues, and you roll your eyes. “yeah, well, that’s up for me to decide. i’ll see you tomorrow, ellie. when we’re both sober.” your voice is lower than before, and you flash her one last look before turning around and making your way over to dani.

ellie pathetically watches as you and dani begin to leave together, and her heart plummets right into her stomach. tiffany’s words from earlier are ringing in her head; “you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” ellie stupidly realizes tiffany was right. she loves you more than she’s ever loved anyone… yet as she watches dani entwine her hand with yours before you both disappear in the direction of the dormitory, she realizes you aren’t hers to love. and you certainly aren’t hers to lose.

a/n(PLEASE READ): here’s a one-shot i wrote earlier this month, i just finished the next part of “i’m right over here, why can’t you see me”. it should be posted by christmas, and yes i will be tagging everyone who commented on it 🖤 - vamp

[bugs1nmybrain]

Could you possibly write Professor Aizawa x college student reader, where UA is a college instead of a high school?

Teacher's Crush - Professor!Aizawa x College Student!Reader ☆ Part 1

Warnings: No smut but nsfw, fem-reader, Professor x student, age gap (readers in early 20s, Aizawa is 30), no sex and cliffhanger, unrealistic confession, not proofread, very ooc aizawa

Notes: OOF. I questioned if I should do this because it is admittedly a guilty pleasure, but it feels taboo?? Then I remembered some of the somno and dub-con stuff I've written and humbled myself down. Fiction is meant to be fun. You're in luck! The recent chapters of MHA rekindled my Aizawa fixation a bit. Very excited to write this.

I plan to make a part 2 of this that will include ooey gooey SMUT. There's just a lot that has to build up to their relationship.

The College won't be UA itself but an out of canon school. Any MHA students will not be included. Aizawa is an English teacher because I noticed that he likes reading in Vigilantes so maybe he has a secret passion for it.

Notes About Reader: Fem-reader, Honor student, shorter than Aizawa, curvy, early 20s

College had its challenges, but overall, you were an A+ student and even better, a teacher's pet. Or..professor's pet?

Professor Aizawa had a soft spot for you. One that he was ashamed of. But the thing was, he couldn't help himself be completely enamored by his favorite student. You were responsible, kind, humble, smart, and reliable. A brilliant student, he could tell from your essays and comments in class. A mind of your own. That's not to say that you were flawless. Sometimes, you'd make a grammatical mistake or two, but he ignorantly disregarded them (which he did not do with the other students) because he enjoyed the appreciative thanks you gave him on the school website when you got a perfect grade.

It's a good thing he was respectful, because you also waltzed into class with little slutty skirts and tops that conveniently showed off your waist and tits. Like today. Yeesh, playing the schoolgirl angle up much?

"Who can tell me the cultural significance of this week's reading?"

Professor Aizawa glanced around to the sounds of crickets. Even you weren't speaking up, though you did seem to have a peculiar look on your face. He wondered how your expression would shift.

"Y/n."

You jolted up and redirected your attention.

"What're your thoughts?"

"Oh, well, I assumed it was important because it showed the socioeconomic struggles of people in the real world in this time period and what they did to make ends meet."

"Great work. Sharp as always, Y/N."

You smiled at him with what seemed like a blush. This was regular lately. You always dressed nice, but lately, your outfits were more revealing, and you became more flustered at his praise. You were so cute.

He wanted you so bad.

And so did you.

Professor Aizawa was one of the younger instructors at this school, though still well older than you. But with his sluggish looks and broody attitude, you'd think he was older than 30. You weren't the only one charmed by him. You heard some students joke about who had the biggest dick out of all professor's and how Aizawa was easily on the top. You wondered how true that was...

He gave you looks that he didn't to the others and you weren't stupid. The As you recieved seemed undeserving at times, but he'd marvel at your work. You caught him peaking when you'd lift up from a chair and your body was on display for him. How soft his tone was with you, and an underlying lust from both of you.

"It's 4pm. Class dismissed." As everyone began gathering their supplies, Aizawa stood from his desk and came over to you.

"Y/N. I'd like to speak with you once everyone's left," he said as if it wasn't an option.

"Wha-what's wrong?" You panicked. You became anxious whenever you suspected you've done something wrong. Especially from Aizawa.

"Don't stress, just stay seated and wait for them to leave."

You nodded sheepishly. Aizawa stood by his desk, trying to keep distance between you and him. You didn't know what on earth was wrong and to upset your favorite professor would hurt you for the rest of the semester.

The rest of the students left, leaving the empty noise between you and Aizawa. He stood seated on his desk with his hands figeting with each other.

"You always tell us to get off the seats," you joke, not remembering that you may be in trouble right now.

"This is my desk. Those chairs are the schools."

"Right. I'm sorry, sir."

Mm.. you were too much for him.

"Why-why, uh. Did I miss an assignment? I did have a busy week so I'm not sure."

"No. Nothing like that. Your grades are perfect, one of the best in my class and I wager the rest of your classes, right?"

"Well, I'm not the brightest in CIS, but I have an A."

"The A is what matters. You seem pretty hard on yourself, I've come to notice."

"I-uh. Hm?"

"I have to pay attention to all my students to make sure you're all living up to your potential. You're talented, and you have a promising future. You're really not an English major?"

"No. I don't read as much as this class has me."

"You seem to like movies based on your personal essays. Film studies have similar elements, you know? But I'm sure you're going to do great things with your degree."

"Thank you, Aizawa. Um. You're much nicer to me than the others, I've noticed," you laugh nervously.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes."

Aizawa chuckled softly. The first laugh you've heard from him. You weren't sure if Aizawa was even capable of humor.

"Well it's because I.."Shota stammered, realizing he really didn't have a solid reason for keeping you behind. He figured just having a reassuring peptalk could win him moments with you. But you were catching on.

Shota's gaze zoned out on your breasts without thought. He admired your short stature and full features more than he should. It felt wrong. You were his student.

"What's that?" You asked.

"I suppose I just see you as a model student."

"Thank you, Professor Aizawa."

"Of course. I was wondering if perhaps you'd be interested in doing a work study as my personal teaching assistant."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. You'd recieve hourly pay and it's part time. I think you're smart enough to handle it."

"I mean, yea! I would love that. I've been trying to get work study for a while but I've had troubles."

Well, this was convenient he thought, considering it was spur of the moment. "I'm glad to hear that. You'll do great and I look forward to working with you."

While you were still here, Aizawa thought of another way he could capture your attention. Your outfit was a problem and it made him feel in checkmate. His cock would grow in his pants just at the sight and the filthy thoughts he had. Though it was against his personal beliefs on the matter, it could be worth it to scold you.

"You know...Y/N. Your sense of style is rather revealing as of late."

"Oh."

"I'm not mad. It's just that the students, especially the boys, might have a hard time focusing in class."

Aizawa eyed you with a faint look of wanting, as if he was trying to signal to you his intentions. He's already accepted he's borderline fucked if you two got together. Would he risk that? With the submissive and hungry pout you gave him back, though...hell yea he would.

"Am I being dress coded?" You perk up playfully.

"Mm..well, maybe you should show me if that skirt passes your fingertips, hm?"

You couldn't believe what was happening. You halfway doubted he was actually trying to make a move, but you realized that he was angled in a way to conceal his crotch from a boner.

"I- um!" You blushed and cracked a smile. You got up and started to check the fingertips, but Aizawa snickered again.

"I wasn't serious about that," he smiled at you, shamelessly looking you up and down. "Y/N, I'm really proud of you. So responsible, smart, attentive. Always in the front of my class, giving me a gorgeous smile. Are your clothes maybe a call for my attention, too?"

It's like he caught you like a deer in headlights. You stammered and looked down at the floor, in disbelief of what he was saying to you. You felt a tingle in between your legs, and Aizawa noticed your squirm.

"Come here," he looked at you with a motion of his pointer finger. So you obeyed and stood in front of him. "Do you have a crush on me?"

He got you.

You felt heated and panicked, worried this would be a problem. By how he spoke, it seemed thay he liked you too. But this was wrong, right?

"I..I mean, you are my favorite professor."

"Uh-huh..that's good to know,"he smirked, encouraging you to say more, but you kept quiet. "Is that why you're always nearly the only student to stay for extra lessons? With your smarts, you certainly don't need them."

"Well, it always helps to stay on top of things," you bluffed.

"That also explains you staring at me in the halls and through the teachers lounge window?"

Did he really notice that? You thought.

"..maybe. I'm sorry, Professor Aizawa.." You spoke in shame.

"It's alright, kitten."

!~¡☆!

Kitten

"This is very inappropriate," he remarks, as if you were the one who approached him.

"Well. Yea."

"Mhm. Are you able to keep a secret for us? Do you want that?"

You stared at him with huge eyes of excitement. You swore you must've been dreaming. You soon felt a calloused hand brushing up again your hand.

"How rational do you think this is?" You giggled, moving closer to rest your forehead on his.

"Not very. But it's not rational to force these things away, either." He sighed in relief, feeling his heart become warm. "Would you like to go out to dinner with me? Out of town, ideally."

"Yea. That'd be very nice."

[hannahssimblr]

I open the envelope on the stairs. The same stairs I spent six years rushing up and down, going from class to class, that was always bustling with students, bumping shoulders, swinging school bags, yet here I am, on an empty staircase in the building I thought I’d never be inside again. All the people I thought I’d never have to see again are here too, milling in and out of the foyer, collecting envelopes, telling each other about their summer. Somehow I’d forgotten I would have to do this. 

I keep to myself, wishing to minimise any conversation. Get in, get out, that’s the plan. I slip my thumbnail under the lip of the envelope and pull my results out. 

Mathematics A1 English A1 Art A1 Biology B3 Geography B1 German A2

Oh, Jesus Christ. There’s a roaring in my ears. I shove my grades back into the envelope before anyone can see them, then add up the score in my head.

Five-fifty. Is that possible? I peek inside to check again. 

Yes. Five-fifty. 

I blow out a lungful of air. How can this be? I’m famously a fucking idiot. This is a disruption to my worldview. I hardly even studied towards the end of the year, so how in the-

“Jude?” Someone steps into my space, and I have to suppress a groan as Sam from the yearbook committee stands over me, looking completely misplaced without his uniform on. It’s like the freakish experience of seeing your teacher in the supermarket. Sam, without his starched uniform shirt and perfectly knotted tie, is hardly Sam at all. Perhaps he thinks the same of me without my tie, which was always hanging crooked with a blue ink stain on it that wouldn’t come off after a hundred washes.  

The smug look, however, is Sam all over. “Looking a bit glum. Are you disappointed in your results, or something?”

I pause. “No?”

“Oh, grand. Suppose you don’t need the marks anyway, do you? You’re off to art college in Berlin, so I heard.”

“You heard correctly.”

“Surprised to see you here at all, I have to say. I thought you might have been gone already, off to the continent and all that, instead of coming into school.”

“No, my flight’s Wednesday.”

“Ah. So soon.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” He stands expectantly, hovering, and so, with a sigh, I ask him what he is frothing to be asked. “What points did you get, Sam?”

“Five forty,” he gloats. “I’ll be off to Trinity now, all going well with the offers and all that. ‘Twas an expected result, but I’m still thrilled with myself. Just goes to show that hard work and proper study really pay off.”

“Yeah. Well done. Lucky that points don’t count for me, then, hm?”

“Well, it’s only art school. It’s not like you need to be smart.”

“Yep, that’s true.”

Sam’s head swivels like a submarine periscope. “Oh, look who’s just come in.” His mouth stretches into an unsettling grin. “Sure, it’s the lovely Michelle Tengu. You should say hi to her.”

“Right, yeah.” I say, though my fight or flight has activated and my palms prickle with sweat.

Michelle crosses the linoleum floor in the chunky black boots she’s had since fifteen. She accepts her envelope from the principal and stands to the side where she tears it open and her eyes scan the page. It’s impossible to tell how she feels.

She looks the same, of course she does. Maybe her hair is longer, maybe her makeup is different, her skin a little browner, and I have this feeling as I see her, that I am looking at a picture of a person I used to know, someone whose name I remembered, but whose face I had long forgotten. This girl I loved, or thought I did. I don’t really know that person anymore, at least not how I used to. 

She sees me and gives a hesitant wave. 

I wave back. 

“You’re still here,” she approaches me with the caution one would with a spooked cat, emotions flashing over her face, like she can’t decide how to feel. Neither can I. She’s still blocked in my phone, from that fateful night in June, but now, on the cusp of September, those heavy feelings I had seem so melodramatic. I am just Jude, she is just Michelle, and somewhere along the way, without me even paying heed to it, a storm has passed. 

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“I expected you to sneak off to Berlin under the cloak of night.”

“That’s the plan, honestly. I just needed my results first.”

“I see. Are you happy with them?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I got enough for NCAD.”

“Oh, Michelle, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.” An odd moment follows, where I am not sure whether I should hug her. I twitch toward her, then second guess myself, and then I just freeze there, halfway lifted from the step. I slump back down onto it. 

“It, um… Well. It sounds like you had a pleasant summer, and all that.” She says. “Jen was telling me all about it.”

“Was she? Yeah, it was fine. Did she really say it was pleasant?”

“She mentioned that you two had a bit of a falling out, to be honest.”

“Ah, yeah, we did.”

She gives me this awkward smile, and it’s instantly obvious that she knows. Jen, being Jen, has told her the entire story. She’s revealed every aspect of my summer - the festival, the conflicts, and its conclusion. She knows about Evie too. It’s in her eyes. It’s that hint of betrayal she knows she’s not supposed to feel anymore. In them lies the sting of an ex moving on and leaving her behind.   

“I’m, um…” I smooth the front of my hair. “I think things will be alright with Jen, probably. I just need time, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it.” She adds delicately, “though, like, you are leaving in about five days.”

“That’s true.”

“And you were really planning to just vanish?”

“Well, yes. I just don’t know how else to do it.”

“Usually people have a party or something.”

“No, come on,” I scoff. “I’m not doing all of that. It’s so much work.”

“Hm. I just think you’ll regret not saying goodbye.”

I can’t decide whether she’s right, and can’t think of what to argue in my defence, so I say nothing. A sympathetic smile crosses her face. It’s strange. She never looked at me like that while we were together.

“I can help,” she says. “It can be low-key, just a few people. I’ll send out a text and see who wants to come, yeah? Whoever wants to say goodbye?”

“Including Jen?”

“I’ll need to invite Jen.” she shrugs, “it might be a good chance to talk. To get it all ironed out.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. I think it’s best not to leave things unfinished.”

“Hm. That’s very philosophical of you.”

“Are you shocked?”

“Kind of.”

She huffs out a laugh. “Well I’ve been seeing someone.”

“A boy?”

“A therapist. I realised after we broke up that I had some things to work through. I had some… big feelings.”

“That’s great, Shell.”

I could swear that her eyes get a little misty as she inhales, as though to say something before deciding against it. She straightens her shoulders and smiles. “I’m happy you’re happy.” She says brightly. “With the Leaving Cert results, obviously.”

“I’m happy you’re happy, too.”

She glances toward the door. “Look, I better go, but I’ll text you about the going away party, right?”

“Yeah, I better unblock you.” It slips out of me before I can stop it, but to my immense relief, she laughs. “Good idea. See you Jude.”

“Bye, Shell. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“I dunno. For this.”

She just smiles. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[venusloveslobotomies]

Kyle and Kenny x reader meeting

(all characters aged up to 18-20)

Kyle:

“Oh! God… fuck!” You haphazardly wiped your keyboard before the water could seep further in. Bebe snorted and you smacked her, trying not to laugh.

“Girl, what is going on with you? You’ve been all distracted since lab this morning?”

“I knowww.” You groaned, “I keep thinking about how much work that class is going to be.” Wendy rolled her eyes playfully.

“We all know that it’s because Kyle’s in that class and your hoping to be his partner.” She sang at you, taking another bite of her salad.

“No… no. Why would you think that?” You closed your laptop, looking away.

“Y/N, it’s ok! Kyle’s actually really nice. Just a bit standoffish to girls. He’s got trust issues, thanks to Eric.” Wendy tried to reason.

“Yeah, no shit. He won’t even look at me.”

“He’s just insecure! I bet if you asked him out-“

“Absolutely not!” You interrupted Wendy, “I can’t even talk to him normally! How am I supposed to ask him out? I’ve never been good at talking to guys! Let alone someone who’s actually smart and attractive, like Kyle.” Your comments were met with silence, actually, more like barely-held-down laughter, “What?” Bebe stared pointedly to your left. You mentally cursed yourself a million times before glancing carefully where Bebe had indicated. Stan and Kyle stood there, bags and books in hand. Stan was smirking at Kyle and Kyle had looked up and away from you.

“Kyle, you should be Y/N’s lab partner! She’s really smart! And nice!” Wendy quipped, quickly breaking the tense silence.

“Uhm, what? Oh! Yeah, sure. If… uhh… she wants to.” You stared down at your water bottle, feeling the awkwardness in your teeth. You could feel the girls looking at you before Wendy responded,

“She would love to.”

Kenny:

You leaned against the wall, watching Craig blow smoke into Tolkien’s face, making him cough while the rest of you laughed.

“Goddamn… Fuck off.” Tolkien coughed at Craig.

“You should’ve driven us to KFC, man.” Craig shrugged.

“Your lunch is almost over anyways, we’ll go after Y/N’s last class.”

“Sweet!” You smiled excitedly.

“So… Y/N…” Tolkien looked at you mischievously.

“Soooo what?” You responded, taking a drag of Craig’s joint.

“I heard Mccormick wants to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Craig snorted and Tolkien smacked his arm before continuing, “Stan told Wendy and Wendy told Bebe, who told Clyde, that he’s wants to talk to you in your English class.” You furrowed your brows at him and sighed.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out. Doesn’t he, like, hoe around a bit?”

“That’s what it seems like, but he’s a good dude. Much nicer than Cartman. I honestly don’t know why they hang out.” Craig huffed. You nodded and shrugged as you checked the time. 12:49. English class. You guessed you would find out what the hell was going on in about ten minutes.

“Ok, I gotta roll. See you guys at 4? Tolkien’s car.” They all made various sounds of assent as you wandered through campus to your class.

As you sat down next to Jimmy and pulled out your notes, you heard someone pull out the chair to your right. Looking up, you realised it was Kenny… with is hood down for once.

“Hey…” He sat down and began tapping his foot nervously.

“What’s up?” You asked, leaning back in your chair.

“Well, I missed yesterday’s class and I need some help catching up. Can you, like. Uhh… maybe help me out? I just missed, like, all of the stuff about the essay topics and requirements.” He seemed to be looking everywhere but at you. And you knew damn well that stuff was all on the Powerpoints.

“Sure, why not. My place, tomorrow? Just bring me coffee and its a deal.” You figured you may as well take what he said at face value. He seemed to have lost his laid-back and confident facade.

“Awesome! Uhh. Just let me know what time.” He gave you a bright smile and pulled out his notebook as the teacher started the lesson.

pls pls be nice, i havent ever written for south park before but i want to get back into writing <3

[wardenparker]

The Date

Marcus Moreno x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Inspired by the already beloved Teacher Ben sketch from Pedro’s SNL appearance, this fic is dedicated to every single reader with a HUGE hug and a kiss straight from me to you. Just over about two weeks ago I passed the 2k follower mark and I am so incredibly humbled by everyone’s love and encouragement. Writing makes me happier than almost anything else in the world and I am blown away by the sheer number of you who stop by my little corner of the tumblrsphere to read the words that I produce along with my beloved @absurdthirst​. There is absolutely no end to our collaborations in sight and I am thrilled to keep rolling out fun stories week after week 🧡

Rating: Explicit! 18+  Word Count: 19.9k Warnings: Age gap (reader is an adult student of unspecified age), mentions of deceased spouse, awkward flirting, reader is bad with social cues, Marcus on a Motorcycle, using superpowers for foreplay, begging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex (superhero stamina).  Summary: After spending the semester becoming friends with your criminal justice professor, retired Heroic Marcus Moreno, it appears that your crush isn’t so unrequited after all. Notes: I was very sleepy doing this edit, so I’m sorry if I missed some things.

Sometimes you really do sit through classes waiting for a cartoonish sounding bell to ring and it’s just too bad. The general education classes that you have to take really aren’t your cup of tea, even though you know you need them for your degree and really should be paying attention. But you’re not going to need chemistry when you restart your career as a high school English teacher. Nor are you going to need the complex algebra and trigonometry that stumped you the first time you went to college. And you’re probably not going to need to understand the intricacies of the criminal justice system either - but this class was a little gift to yourself. 

The hottest professor you could have ever dreamt of in a three-times-a-week lecture that frequently includes anecdotes from his legendary career as the leader of the Heroics. Since the first day of this class it’s been like a real life version of the Indiana Jones scene where undergrads have love notes written on their eyelids and leave him gifts and notes hoping for a smidgen of extra attention, and you can’t really blame them. The thing is, the poor kids don’t stand a chance. He has a daughter nearly their age and couldn’t ever shake the feeling of how young they are. Or at least that’s what he told you the first time you sat together in the student union to eating lunch together after class. Marcus is sweet. He’s charming and maybe a little insecure socially, but when he stands up in front of the class he commands attention at the drop of a hat. He’s incredibly smart - genius, even - and he doesn’t make friends easily. That’s what he told you the fourth time you had lunch together in the student union after his class was over. Which is why you’ve kept your own crush a very tightly wrapped secret for the entire semester. You’re friends now, or at least very good acquaintances, and you wouldn’t jeopardize that for the world.

But next week is the final, and once that’s over you’ll have no excuse to sit and talk about your favourite books or how crazy his daughter is driving him now that she’s fifteen and learning to drive. Last week Missy had used the word girlfriend to refer to a girl in her friend group for the very first time and Marcus had nearly hyperventilated telling you about it. You’re friends. Loose ones, at least. And if you don’t screw up your courage and say something by next week, it might all go away. And you think you might regret that even more than not graduating college The first time you went, many years ago.

Marcus sighs as he flips the tie over his hand and pulls the knot through. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror as he does. Why he still wears a tie, he hasn’t quite worked out, but it’s a part of his routine and made him feel a bit more like the uniform he had worn for most of his life. If you called black jeans, a tac vest and double swords a uniform. Pushing the knot up to tighten it, he glances at the clock on his nightstand and curses. “Shit.” He had promised to grab you a coffee on the way into class and he doesn’t want to fuck that up. “Get moving, Moreno.”

The city buses are remarkably punctual today, getting you to campus twenty minutes before class instead of leaving you scrambling with just a few minutes to spare, and you take your time walking to the history building where his class is held. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you get to see Professor Moreno today. It’s going to be a good day. Whether it’s a brave day is still up for debate.

Marcus has a habit of frowning as he thinks. Shuffling papers on his desk as he mentally files through the itinerary for the day as he sips on the coffee he had gotten for himself. The other one on his desk was the triple shot, two pumps vanilla, one pump one chocolate, one pump raspberry latte that you had sworn was your favorite drink at the coffee shop he always stopped by. The fact that he ordered the same thing for himself to try was not going to be mentioned, but it was good.

“Morning.” Being a commuter is a boon today. There are no other students in the classroom when you open the door, and the man you only call Marcus in private is already sitting at his desk pouring over papers. The soft green tie matches the color in his plaid shirt and you smile reflexively. He’s so stunningly handsome, especially like this.

“Morning.” Immediately, Marcus looks up from his notes, standing up right after that as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. Being a fucking idiot is what he’s being, but at least he resists rolling his eyes at himself. “I see you’re early. Wanting that coffee Huh?” He asks, grinning slightly as he pushes the extra cup towards you.

“The bus was on time today.” The way he always seems to get flustered when he’s interrupted is adorable and you bite your lip to hold back a grin. “You really didn’t have to get my drink for me…but I appreciate it.” Your friendship has been built over a semester of these small gestures, and to say you didn’t love them would be an absolute lie.

“Caffeine is medically necessary.” Marcus jokes, picking up his own cup and taking another sip. It really is good, and he’s surprised by that considering he normally just drinks coffee black.

“It’s true.” Stepping further into the room, you pull one of the chairs away from the long tables that serve as desks and set it beside his desk at the front of the room to sit with him for a few minutes. “So…” The grin you flash him is teasing, but you are probably only going to get a few more times like this with him so you want to make the most of them. “How’s Missy and her girlfriend?”

Marcus shakes his head and winces. “I’m not okay with her dating.” He huffs, nearly pouting at the idea. “She was born like six months ago.”

“I just think it’s incredible that she came out to you so easily.” According to Marcus, he had come home from a day of teaching about a year ago to find Missy icing cupcakes with rainbow frosting as her own way of breaching the topic. It had been an immensely emotional night for them both. “Teenagers get rebellious over practically everything. It’s fantastic that she trusts you enough to tell you who she is and to tell you about this girl.”

“She knows I’m not going to change the way I look at her.” Marcus shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “She’s my little girl, and if I’m honest, there were signs since she was little.”

“That’s my point though.” You reason, picking up your coffee and humming at the taste. “She knows you love her no matter what. If I had come out to my parents at that age? I would have been lucky not to end up in therapy.”

“Oh, yeah, no, nothing like that at all.” It’s funny how swiftly the little arrow of intrigue or hope quickly pierced his heart. The small crush he had developed on you over the course of the class - despite the impropriety if it - crashing down. “I’m sorry you didn’t have supportive parents like that.”

“It’s fine now.” The way his face changes makes you want to scramble to recover, unsure of what you could possibly have said to upset him when you meant to pay him a compliment. “Being bisexual wasn’t even on their radar back then. They had no idea the word even existed let alone that it applied to their little girl.” You shrug, afraid you’ve offended him by accident. “I might as well have told them I was a Martian.”

Bisexual. While Marcus doesn’t sag in relief of the clarification, the angsty guilt over inappropriate thoughts of someone who would not be interested in a man ease. “It worked for Clark Kent, right? Though he was Krytonian.” He says, sending you a small smile. “No weirder than ‘hey mom, I can manipulate metal’. Right?”

“Honestly I think that would have been easier for her.” When you shrug again, you bury your face behind your coffee cup and studiously command yourself not to get too dreamy over that smile of his. “I just…you’re doing a great job. That’s all. Don’t downplay the fact that your teenage daughter is comfortable and confident in telling you who she is.”

“I never want her to feel like she can’t come to me for anything. Even if it was a boy and…birth control.” Marcus isn’t dumb, he knows what teenagers do, he was one of them once. Despite his Heroic future, hormones did drive a lot of his actions when he was around her age.

That earns him another small laugh from you, and you lean back in your chair. “Well I say points to this girl. If Missy’s anything like her dad then she’s amazing. And that means this girl is lucky as hell.”

He shuffles slightly, trying not to take the compliment for more than what it is. Reassurance. He lifts his coffee cup to his lips again to hide the grin he can’t quite suppress. “Thanks.” He murmurs. “Although it’s been a long time for me.”

“Oh?” It’s not as though you had dug through any of the gossip about him. That would have been disrespectful. But he was a well known celebrity when his wife passed away a few years ago and he had only stopped wearing his ring recently, by the band of untanned skin on his left finger. You had never pried for information, but you’re definitely curious.

He gives a small shrug of his shoulders. The pain of losing his late wife is still there, it always will be, but it’s not as devastating as it had been in the beginning. He would always love her, but he’s still living and she’s gone. “Not since Emily.” He confirms quietly. “Avoided the entire ‘widower pity sex’ that was surprisingly being pushed on me a lot more than I ever imagined.”

“I’m sorry things were pushed on you.” It’s not necessarily for you to apologize, but you can certainly express sympathy. “Being ready to put yourselves out there isn’t something you can rush. It takes time to heal.” Which is part of why you’ve kept your feelings deeply, deeply under wraps.

“A lot of it was because I needed time to heal, I didn’t want to change Missy’s life more than it already had been, and we were navigating our grief together.” Marcus had talked about a lot of this with his therapist, but it’s nice to have someone like you he can also talk to. “Plus, I was leaving the Heroics and starting to teach.”

“Your whole life changed.” You nod slightly, head bobbing with the motion. “When it changes again should be up to you and no one else.”

“Might be time.” Marcus admits, trying not to show how much that terrifies him. “Spend more time at home alone than I do with Missy. It’s…highlighted how reclusive I’ve become.”

"Might be?" You honestly would be embarrassed if he could hear how hard that makes your heart beat. It's not like he's talking about you, but you can't help the way it makes you feel.

“I’ve….thought about dating again.” He looks around the classroom for a moment before he finally looks at you again. “Think it’s a dumb idea?” He asks softly, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. His hands are starting to dampen and he quickly slides them against his darker pants.

"Why would that be dumb?" It's baffling that he would even ask that, since he's easily the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life and an absolute angel of a human. "You deserve to be happy. Whatever that means for you. If dating against would make you happy, then..." Then you will dutifully sit and listen to him gush about whoever the luckiest woman in the world is, if he wants to stay friends. "Then whoever you choose will be incredibly lucky."

That buoys his confidence and he nods before he looks back down at his papers. “So-“

“Hey Professor Moreno!” His head snaps up to see one of the other students from your class practically bounce through the door, filled with nervous, flirty energy. He’s well aware that the girl had a crush on him and while he was flattered, she was vastly too young for him.

“Monica.” He greets her, making her beam as she slides over towards his desk. His eyes meet yours and he swears that he sees disappointment at being interrupted swimming in your orbs.

Right before the door opened you could have sworn he was going to say something to you - maybe even something sweet or flirtatious if your wildest dreams ever came true. But Monica is...determined...and she is right about to stare you down. "I should let you focus," you murmur, standing up with your coffee in one hand and your other on the back of your chair.

“You’re okay.” Marcus insists, actually more comfortable with you here rather than talking to Monica by herself. It was bad enough when she showed up for office hours. “What do you need?” He asks her, shifting into a more professional demeanor than he had with you.

"I was hoping to speak to you privately." Monica casts you a derisive glance and shifts her weight between her feet. "That's why I came early."

“Is it…about the coursework?” Marcus asks carefully. He doesn’t like the social aspect that some of the younger students try to draw him into.

"It is regarding senior week." Smoothing one hand down her front, Monica squares her shoulders and fairly glares at you. "I didn't think it would be appropriate to rub it in my classmate's face that she isn't graduating yet."

“It's fine." Even though you have no idea what you did to make Monica dislike you, you're not about to cause a fuss on the second-to-last day you might get to see Marcus. There's no room in your schedule next year to take one of his other classes and taking more criminal justice classes doesn't make any sense with your major anyway. You step back, taking your chair with you, to go put your books down at the table a few feet away.

“What can I help you with?” Marcus crosses his arms over his chest and frowns slightly. He doesn’t understand the animosity that seemingly rolls off of the younger girl towards you. It doesn’t make sense.

"As you know." Monica perks up immediately, feeling victorious at your retreat and Professor Moreno's attention being squarely on her. "Senior week always includes guests of honour from the staff and faculty." What she hopes he doesn't know is that the staff and faculty guests have already been chosen for the dinner dance. Otherwise her cover will be blown. "It would be very exciting if you would agree to come to the senior week dinner dance as a special guest." As her special guest, specifically, but Monica doesn't word it like that.

“Oh.” Marcus shuffles slightly and rocks on his heels as he looks around the classroom as he thinks about how to let this girl down. “While I am flattered…I am not able to attend.” He explains. “I am due to take my daughter to her grandparents across the state that night.”

"And it would be impossible to bring her earlier?" With a lack of understanding and empathy so obviously on display, Monica all but pouts. "It will be such a special night."

“I’m sure it will be.” Marcus frowns and his tone turns slightly frosty. “But my daughter will be getting out of school and wanting to see her mother’s parents.”

The young woman huffs, immaturity fully on display, and puts her hand on her hip like she's about to transform into a version of herself twenty years in the future that would be demanding to see his manager. "Whatever," she scoffs. "You have no idea what you'll be missing."

Marcus rocks his jaw, instantly transforming into the leader of the Heroics when he had dealt with the most stubborn of the other superhero’s. “Miss Anderson, I suggest you take your seat unless you wish to be dropped from the class.” He manages tightly. “Which will affect your own graduation date.”

The hmmphf from her is as pronounced as the pouty frown on her face, but Monica spins around, throwing you a dirty look in the process as she storms across the classroom to sit down and probably not pay much attention during this last study session Marcus will be leading.

Sighing softly, Marcus look down at the papers in front of him. Why couldn't someone just accept that a man who was old enough to be her father wasn't interested gracefully? He doesn't understand it.

His mood seems sour for the entire study session, and it’s not that you can’t understand why. Monica and the undergrad girls didn’t know how to take no for an answer, apparently. You do - at least you expect it - so you’ve just never asked the question. By the end of class you have to assume that his nerves are frayed and he won’t have the presence of mind for your usual lunch together, so you just start to pack up.

Once the class is over, Marcus looks over at you. Frowning slightly when he sees you move towards the door, he calls your name quickly. Unsure if you've changed your mind about walking to lunch together or if something has come up.

The last group of your classmates blows past you when you freeze three feet from the doorway and turn back. “I didn’t know if you’d be up to lunch,” you admit, feeling a little sheepish about it. “You seem preoccupied. I didn’t want to presume.”

"No, uh, I'm sorry." He deflates slightly and sighs. "I just- Monica." He gestures toward the door as if that explains it. "I don't understand. I'm too old for her."

“It’s a fantasy.” The way you shrug your shoulders is completely tense, like you have no intention whatsoever in admitting that you’ve had those same fantasies about him yourself. “They don’t see the reality of it. Only the glossy story they’ll tell their friends.”

"I guess." He won't deny that he had crushes on teachers and professors when he was younger, but he had never been so bold to think they would want him. "I just- I guess I think too much like a dad." He huffs at himself. "She's not that much older than Missy."

"I think that's thinking like a dad just the right amount." The door shuts behind the rest of your class and you shove your hands in your pockets with your bag high on your shoulder. "What did she...ask you? If you don't mind me asking?"

“She wanted me to go to the dinner dance as a special guest.” He picks up his own bag and tosses it on his shoulders. “Didn’t take the very polite ‘no’ very well.” He snorts. “She actually asked me if I could drop my daughter off at her grandparents another day.”

"That's...awkward." When you reach for the door handle this time it's to open it for him rather than to beat a hasty exit, and you follow him out the door. "And honestly, a little disrespectful."

“She doesn’t have to know that her grandparents live two hours away.” Marcus grins slyly, and shrugs.

"She shouldn't have been rude." The walk down the corridor is fairly quiet since the next class period has already started in this building, and you walk side-by-side with your professor one more time. "It was nice of you to try to let her down easy, even if she didn't let you, ultimately."

“I get having feelings you shouldn’t.” Marcus risks looking over at you for a second before he looks back down at the path in front of you. “For people you shouldn’t.”

“How so?” If you had seen him glance at you then you might have had some idea of what he meant, but you were busy trying not to trip over the obvious coffee spill left by a previous student.

Marcus sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he ignores the looks from the students as the two of you walk through the campus. He doesn’t see a lot of the adoration that seems to be thrown his way. “She’s…it’s not like a younger student or anything. Not like Monica.”

“Oh? Oh! You’ve been—?” You can’t help the way your whole face falls, registering that apparently he’s been seeing another student and you didn’t ever know. As fast as your silly schoolgirl crush has grown over the course of the semester, you can feel it being stamped out with every new step you take down the corridor together. “Well, she’s…she’s very lucky…” You choke out, shoving your hands into your pockets with determination.

“No! No, I haven’t - I can’t, it’s not—” Marcus groans. “She’s my student, I haven’t thought it was…appropriate to ask her out.” He rolls his eyes at himself, wondering where were those fucking balls of steel he had to have when saving the world when he needs them now. ���I- it would have been wrong, right? But I have been thinking about it.”

“I mean…I guess it depends?” Even though it crushes your heart more than a little to debate this with him, he’s your friend and…and ultimately you want him to be happy. And some people might argue that that is a blaring siren for having feelings, but that’s a moot point now. “It’s the end of the semester, so…theoretically I guess it would depend on the relationship you have with this girl outside of…ya know…the classroom.”

"I think we're pretty good." Marcus inhales softly. "We've spent some time together, a lot less than I'd like, but I guess I don't know what she thinks about it."

“Then you should probably ask her.” And tonight, when you go home to pour yourself a glass of wine for studying, you’ll use your really big wine glass to mourn the passing of the chance you never got. “You can’t know unless you ask.”

"Yeah....." Fundamentally, Marcus knows that. And it's not like you are giving much away with your answers so he can't even use that to judge how you would react. "I need to, but I'm also worried about it changing things for the worse."

“I can’t see anyone turning you down,” you admit, feeling your voice drop a little and your shoulders slump. If you were brave enough to take your own advice, then you wouldn’t be walking at his side listening to him theorize about asking out another woman.

“So…..how do you feel about driving up the coast?” Marcus ventures softly. “Thought we could take a little ride, find a nice roadside spot to eat? Look out over the water.”

It takes you a long moment to register what he’s saying, but when you finally do, your head ticks up and you freeze in your steps, doing your best not to stare while you try to remember how to speak. “Wait, I— me?” You ask, so bewildered that your voice jumps and you’re pointing at your own chest. “You meant me?”

“Shit, I knew this was going to happen. You don’t- it’s okay.” Marcus quickly reassures you. “You don’t have to, I - it won’t affect your grade, they are done anyway. I- just forget I said anything, okay?”

“No! N-no, I meant— I didn’t realize you liked me, too.” And if you could bury your head in the ground in embarrassment right now, you absolutely would. “Please, you don’t…don’t take it back? I’d love to go.”

“Are you sure?” Both you and Marcus have stopped walking and he turns towards you. “I don’t- you don’t have to, I just- I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, and….” He blows out a huff of laughter. “I’d like to get to know you more now that you aren’t my student.”

“I’m really sure.” If it were possible to show him exactly how much without seeming overeager - or worse, desperate - you absolutely would, but right now you’re just smiling so hard you feel like your face might split. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you too, and I…” Flustered, you end up laughing at the way the two of you stammer out insistences and reassurances, and you just nod. “Why don’t we say next weekend? Final will be over and I’ll officially no longer be your student in any way.”

“Missy will be with her grandparents.” Marcus nods. “And I’ll officially not be your professor. So there’s nothing improper about it anymore.”

“I don’t even think you’re capable of being improper.” The little tease makes you grin, knowing that you might have said it before but now it’s flirting.

Marcus flushes slightly, aware that some of his thoughts were far from proper. “You’d be surprised.” He huffs, both of you starting to walk towards the food court again.

“Oh yeah?” It seems so improbable, and you laugh softly while you walk. “Are you telling me the world’s most wholesome retired superhero has a rebellious side?”

Marcus snorts, “well, Emily was about three months pregnant with Missy when we got married…” He offers in way of proof. “And despite my mama’s objections, I still have my motorcycle.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re the one who has been Clark Kent-ing this whole time?” You raise an intrigued eyebrow at him as you walk, but keep your hand stuffed firmly in your pocket so you don’t do something stupid like reach for him out of excitement. “The real Marcus is wandering hands and engine grease?” Oh god…both versions sound amazing…

Marcus smirks at the comparison and there might be a slight air of cockiness to his shrug. “There’s a difference between the public image and the private man, let’s just say that.” He offers. This is why he’s enjoyed your company, he loves being able to talk to you. No expeditions, no judgment. It’s vastly different from a lot of his other interactions with people and he loves it.

"Color me intrigued." And honestly a little turned on, but you'll keep that to yourself for now. The dining hall is just up ahead and it's just beginning to be busy, as people like you and Marcus who are filing out of your midmorning classes are lured in by the smell of lunch.

“Is that a good intrigued or have 9-1-1 on speed dial intrigued?” Marcus jokes, lunging forward to open the door for you when you both get close enough.

You knew he would get the door. He always does. In fact, he glared at you when you had tried to do it yourself a few weeks ago - as though you should certainly know better by now. “I don’t know,” you admit with a shrug. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before. It could be fun. Or it might be terrifying.”

“Wellllllll, that was kinda the plan, if you want.” Marcus admits, a slightly boyish grin on his face. “Have you wrap your arms around me and hang on while we ride.”

“No dress. Got it.” Wrap your arms around him and hang on? Apparently when this man flirts he has the ability to make you weak in the knees and nearly pout with just a few sentences. “I have a very definite feeling that I’m going to like motorcycles.”

Marcus can’t help the slightly dirty way his grin turns. “Better than a washing machine.” He hums.

“Marcus!” The scandalized laugh that makes it out of you is practically giddy to see this side of him and you stick close to his side once you’re in the bustling main dining hall. “Maybe I do want to wear a dress, in that case.”

Marcus chuckles and looks over the options for the day and then at you. “What are you feeling today?” He asks. “They have that grilled chicken salad you like.”

“And they have gyro today,” you point up at the menu and offer him a shy smile, Realizing for the first time how much he’s really absorbed about you personally over the course of the semester. “Just try telling me that’s not your favorite. I dare you to lie.”

“Only because you start singing that song every time I sit down with it.” Marcus huffs, flushing slightly.

“‘Holding Out for a Gyro’ is the best parody song ever written.” You shrug your shoulders proudly. “Sorry, Weird Al. I win this one.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “And it’s funny every time I hear it.” He enjoyed the playful banter between the two of you. “If it’s aided by a delicious meal? That makes it even better.”

“Then I think we’ve got to do it.” He’s so relaxed now, and you wonder how many times when you were in line like this or sitting with coffee, did he feel the tension of attraction the same way you did? It’s a relief to know it wasn’t one sided after all. “For old time’s sake.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus shoots you a smirk, and nods towards your line. “Meet you at the table we normally have?” It’s not an assigned table, but the corner table is rarely occupied when you have lunch together.

"Absolutely." To have anything be both of yours sends a shiver of excitement through you and you try not to giggle or anything similarly giddy. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Making his way over to the correct station, he can’t help but seek you out. Telling himself that it’s just because he wants to make sure you aren’t waiting for him for too long, he can’t help but grin when your eyes find him and you smile.

You tell yourself that the butterflies are because it’s new, and because new is exciting. It’s not because you’re expecting anything, or even know if the date will go well. But your instincts are good and your intuition is worth listening to - and that gut you’ve spent years cultivating is telling you that this could be the start of something amazing if you let it.

You get your salad before Marcus gets his own food, making him watch you as he walks towards the table where you are already settling in. “Do you need napkins?” You always forget them and it’s a little habit that he has developed to grab more.

“You know I do.” He’s attentive. It’s something you’ve grown to appreciate about him during the time you’ve been getting to know him. “Just like I know you didn’t grab a fork and you’re going to regret it when that wrap gets messy halfway through.” The Extra fork on your tray is ready and waiting just like the extra napkins on his.

“Look at us playing to each other’s weaknesses.” Marcus chuckles, knowing that he will be using the fork. He always does and yet every time he doesn’t get one when the utensils are next to the napkins.

“I like to think of it as paying attention.” You counter, moving things around your tray to get it set up just the way you like. “We’ve both found each other worth paying attention to.”

“At least you also paid attention in class.” Marcus snorts, opening up the cup of extra tzatziki sauce he always asks for, along with extra pickled red onions. “You have one of the top five grades. Seriously, you should pursue criminal justice.”

“It would be a hell of a gear change from teaching high school English.” The cup of vinaigrette that comes with your chicken salad is unceremoniously dumped into the container and you pop the lid back on to shake it up and get everything evenly coated. “I honestly took the class because I love mysteries so much. I thought taking something about fighting crime would be fun.” You hadn’t even known who was teaching it when you signed up. Finding out you had Marcus for a professor was a delightful surprise.

“I think it’s a good idea to have everyone take at least one class.” Marcus knows you know this. It was basically his opening speech to his class. “Knowing about our system is necessary.”

"I completely agree." The discussions about how neither of you understand the resistance to understanding how the country you live in works have happened a few times over the last few months, usually in regard to a classmate saying something ignorant or someone illustrating a cultural difference between the US and the culture they grew up in. Discussions could either feel like you were banging your head against a wall or you could learn something truly interesting.

“So..” Marcus looks over at you as he scrapes the rest of the sauce out onto his gyro. “Are you ready for the summer? Or are you taking more courses?” He knows you are working towards your degree while working, so he’s not sure how it looks for you.

"I have a second job lined up for the summer. I'll keep busy and pocket as much money as I can." Working through the busy summer tourist season has always treated you well, and the company you work with has no problem accommodating your class schedule or your other job. "I'm on track to graduate next year as long as I don't run into a problem with any of my senior classes, so I'll spend my summer working and trying to get ahead in my reading if any of my professors are willing to hand out their reading lists early." It was the first email you always sent to a professor - asking if they wouldn't mind sending a reading list to you ahead of the start of the semester - and usually it helped establish you as a serious student early on. Being a slow reader meant you had to be prepared.

“Let me know what classes you are taking and I’ll be able to tell you what most of them have set out.” Marcus offers. “It’s good to have a jump on things.” It’s not just an offer because you’re going out on a date with him. He would offer it to any serious student. Just many of them hadn’t wanted to go beyond the unsubtle flirting.

“I’m a slow reader.” You shrug, digging your fork into your salad. “Taking a lot of classes that require extensive reading. Especially next year.” The first bite of your lunch is bright and crisp and refreshing as always, and you just let yourself enjoy it for a minute while you chew. “What about you?” You ask, tilting your head at him. “Any big summer plans with Missy?”

“Missy’s going to be with her grandparents most of the summer.” Marcus admits, hating that he will miss her, but she needs to spend time with Emily’s family. He was always welcomed, but he wanted her to bond with them without having dad hanging around.

“Oh?” He looks like he’s not thrilled with the idea, but you know how much he loves his daughter and he’s probably just aware of how much he’ll miss her - something you can’t blame him for in the least. That does, however, leave your mind open to think about very specific things…like spending the night together without having to worry about preteen eyes or ears.

“Yeah. So I’m going to be doing a lot of reading by the pool.” Marcus predicts. “Retirement from the Heroics left a lot of downtime that I hadn’t expected when I went into teaching.”

“It sounds relaxing, at least.” Would you kill to see Marcus lounging lazily, sunbathing shirtless with a book and a beer on any random summer day? It sounds like a dream. “If you want a change of scenery, sometimes the country club I work at gives us guest passes on slow days. You could read by a different pool if you wanted to?”

“So you’re inviting me to sit by your pool…” Marcus grins. “How good are your piña coladas?”

“Marcus I’m a bartender.” You pretend to be scandalized but just end up giggling when you take a sip of your drink. “My piña coladas are flawless, thank you very much.”

“I guess I will have to try them for myself.” Marcus teases, sending you a small wink. “Have you serving me frozen beverages all summer?”

"In my extremely sexy polo shirt and khaki shorts." The snort he gets from you is pure amusement, but the way you're smiling is so very, very pleased. Having him actively flirt with you is turning into a happy little puddle. "You'd be the only one actually allowed to leer."

“I will keep all my leering respectful.” He promises playfully. “Although you might be embarrassed to have such an old man flirt with you in public, even if you are used to it all the time.”

"If you're hanging out at the club this summer, then I'm assuming it will be because we've decided to keep seeing each other." And that thought alone makes you nearly giddy. "In which case I will be proud to have you respectfully leering while I work."

Marcus hums and picks up his gyro. “Then we will have to see if we are as good outside of ‘just friendly’ as I think we will be.” He tells you before he takes his first bite and groans at the flavors.

"I guess we will." You grin at him, forking up another bite of your lunch, and barely keep yourself from outright giggling. Next week can't come fast enough.

******

The nerves that come with getting ready for a ‘first date’ for the first time in nearly twenty years catches Marcus off guard. Panicking in the shower as he wonders if he’s made the date too casual, too presumptuous. What if you hate motorcycles? Should he just have made reservations somewhere? He runs through every single scenario in his mind until he’s nearly jittery.

He has no way of knowing that you've been sitting giddily in your apartment - busying yourself here and there with cleaning or changing your outfit four times or staring at the first page of a new book for a half hour and only reading the same sentence over and over again because you're too excited to focus. As seven o'clock ticks closer and closer, there is just less and less chance of you concentrating on anything except thinking of Marcus.

The ride over to your apartment complex is easy and surprisingly quick. You don’t live too far away from him and the implications that spring from that have him reminding himself that it’s just the first date. Swinging his leg over the bike as he shuts it off, he smirks to himself as he looks back at the helmet he had strapped to the back for you to wear. It’s a gorgeous evening for a ride and the setting sun in a few hours would look amazing as you cruise along the coast.

You practically jump when the buzzer goes off, beating a hasty route from the bathroom mirror - where you were quadruple checking the claim that your new lipstick is transfer-proof - to the hall. “Hello?” Trying to sound carefree instead of out of breath, your voice pitches up one too many octaves when you press the button to answer.

“Hey.” Marcus grins at how breathless you sound, wondering if you are just as nervous as he is. “Can I come up, or do you want me to wait down here?” If you decide to just come down, that’s completely your choice and he won’t judge you either way.

"Come on up!" Having decided thirty seconds ago to change your shoes from flats to boots for the sake of the bike you hope he brought, you push the buzzer to let him in and scramble to your bedroom to grab your knee-high boots.

Marcus grins, opening the door and deciding to take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator since you are only on the second floor. Eager to see you and get the date started. The only reason there aren’t flowers in his hand, is because they wouldn’t survive the ride over but maybe the one flower he does have silk charm you.

The knock on your door comes barely two minutes later and you've barely zipped up your boots when you answer it. Marcus has always dressed up for his time on campus, but today he has a leather jacket thrown over his untucked green button-up and boots peeking out from under his jeans where he would normally wear Oxford. The difference is slight, but it's mouthwatering. "Hey." One little word, but it's all you can manage when you're grinning from ear to ear like a lunatic. "Come on in."

“Hey.” He wipes his hands on his pants, slightly nervous as he steps inside. It’s been a long time since he’s been on a date and he doesn’t want to fuck it up. “You look great. Like really good.” He compliments.

“So do you.” He’s so obviously nervous that it makes you smile, relaxing in the moment when you remember how long it’s been for him. Having you be equally nervous isn’t going to help him at all. “Let me just grab my purse and we can head out?”

“Sure.” Marcus clears his throat and reaches into the pocket of his riding jacket. “So flowers, fresh beautiful ones, are standard for a first date - but they wouldn’t have survived the ride over.” He offers as he pulls out the lone metal rose he had brought you. “So I hope you aren’t disappointed by this.”

“Marcus…” Twisted and pulled from glossy metal into the form of a single blooming rose, the bud is a gorgeous example of artistry all on its own. It speaks to care because it’s so delicate, and an eye for beauty, and you gasp softly when you accept it from his hands. “It’s stunning.”

“I made it.” Why did he just volunteer that? He huffs slightly at his fucking inability to act like a normal man for just one second. “It’s- yeah, I just wanted you to have a flower.”

“Just because you don’t wear a uniform anymore, that doesn’t change who you are as a person.” It’s part of why you like him so much, if you’re honest with yourself. His being a hero isn’t all about his powers. He is fundamentally a good man.

“That’s very true.” He likes the fact that you have a very practical mindset about it. Some wouldn’t and it just means you are even more special than he had anticipated.

Out on the sidewalk in front of your building, his bike is easy to spot. The lone motorcycle in a parking lot of practical and family vehicles, it practically screams to be noticed and you love it. “I was hoping you were serious about bringing it.”

“Good.” Marcus practically beams at giddiness in your eyes. “It’s been a while since I’ve had time to go for a ride and figured it would be the perfect evening for it.”

“Absolutely perfect.” You couldn’t agree more, happily taking the second helmet from the back of his bike when he hands it to you.

Once you are as safe as you can be, Marcus straddles the bike and pulls it off the standing peg. “Get on behind me and hang on as tight as you want.”

“Dangerous thing to say to the woman who’s had a crush on you for the better part of five months.” The gentle laugh as you carefully climb into the back of the bike and wrap your arms around him is mostly teasing - but only mostly. Because you’d been lusting after him on TV for a lot longer than that.

Marcus chuckles as he starts the bike with a loud roar. Maybe showing off just slightly. He has backed into the parking spot so he can just take off with the twist of his wrist and he grins at the bubble of giggling that bursts out behind him as your arms tighten instinctively.

It’s a quick zip from your building to the Pacific Coast Highway. No more than a few minutes in the residential area puts you out enjoying the Southern California’ coastal salt air instead of smog. Each turn he takes hits right in the pit of your stomach and brings another bubble of giggles from your throat and you just hope he can hear them over the roar of the engine. Even if the night was just this - just riding around with him as your anchor - you would completely love it.

Marcus doesn’t try to speed and break your neck as he coasts along the Highway. This is about the leisure of the trip. Enjoying the scenery and he can feel you gasp when he takes one hand off the handlebars to point out some whales breaching just off the rocky coast.

It’s silly. It’s silly to worry. You’re with one of the world’s only literal superheroes. Nothing is going to happen to you. But you still clutch him a little bit tighter whenever he lets go of the handlebars to point. The smile on his face is free and easy and he seems to love the gasps from your lips, so you don’t bother feeling embarrassed. If you were nervous it’s already melted away. Being with Marcus is easy.

He doesn’t know how long you cruise, maybe an hour, hour and a half before he throttle down slightly. “When you see somewhere you want to eat, let me know!” He turns his head back towards you and shouts it so you can hear.

A little further up the road, a brightly painted seafood shack with a cartoon lobster wearing a captain’s hat on its sign. “Right there!” You call through the engine and wind noise, barely letting go of him long enough to point. It looks unpretentious and like it hasn’t changed owners or gimmicks in decades. Perfect for your breezy, relaxed evening ride.

“Okay.” Marcus immediately slows down more, letting go of the handle bars again to give the signal for his turn as he guides the two of you into the parking lot.

You could swear you’re still vibrating when he cuts the engine and your feet are on solid ground again, but it’s not rattling or uncomfortable. It’s like a very tangible adrenaline buzz running all through your body and - yes, definitely shooting right between your legs.

“You okay?” Marcus asks as soon as he takes off his own helmet and sets it down on the back of the bike. It might not be cool to some to wear protection, but he’s got his daughter to think of. And despite his best efforts at trying to stay inconspicuous, sometimes he was photographed in public, not the example he wants to set for the younger generations.

“That was amazing.” The shit-eating grin on your face promises that you’re not lying, and you let him gently unbuckle your helmet to lift it away and set it with his as you stand up.

“Well, why don’t we have whatever tickles our fancy and then we can find a shaved ice place or ice cream stand?” He offers.

"Sounds pretty perfect." A dressed down night like this - something that's more about who you're with than what you're doing - is exactly the right kind of first date to you.

“Good.” His hand finds your back, up under your jacket by sheer coincidence as he moves you towards the small shack. “Maybe we can eat outside?” He offers.

"Why eat by the ocean if you can't see the water at the same time?" His hand is warm through the thin material of your dress and you unconsciously shift closer to him as you walk inside.

“My thoughts exactly.” Marcus grins. “Order a beer if you want, I’m going to have a soda since I’m the one driving.”

The place is simple - just a window with a huge menu board over it where you place your order and a counter a few yards down where you can pick up your filled order when your name is called. Tables inside are simple plastic with matching chairs, and outside there are picnic tables to extend the seating by another dozen or so tables. A plate of fish tacos and local beer sounds like the most Californian meal you've eaten in a long time, and perfect for tonight.

“God, everything smells so good.” He groans, practically drooling at the menu board. “Do you want to get a bunch of things and split them?” He asks.

"You're on." By the time you get up to the window to order you've picked out three or four things that sound amazing - not the least of which is the fish tacos which are marked on the menu as award winning. Your beer will be on the tray when it comes up but Marcus is given a cup for his soda and is pointed toward the drink fountain while you wait.

"What kind goes best with what we ordered?" He hums playfully as he surveys the soda options. There are a few but he's just playing around, seeing if you will point out your favorite. His theory is that you would take a sip of it if he picks that one. So you just aren't drinking beer.

“Hmmmm.” Pretending to think excruciatingly hard about it, you shrug your shoulders playfully and tap the Sprite logo currently staring you in the face. “It’s a palate cleanser,” you reason when he raises one eyebrow to ask for an explanation. “Bright, citrusy, sweet but not as heavy as Mountain Dew or root beer.” It’s also your favorite, but he doesn’t need to know that. Having a favorite soda is silly at your age.

"Good choice." Marcus actually agrees with your assessment and immediately starts adding ice so he can fill the cup with Sprite. "Kind of like having white wine with chicken or beer with chicken wings." He grins and winks at you as he fills the cup.

“The extremely low rent version of that,” you laugh though, leaning against the counter as he fills his cup. “But I like the low rent versions of things. Just because something is fussier doesn’t necessarily mean it’s better.”

"I always believe there are times to be fancy and then there are times to just be...happy." Marcus shrugs. "I figured that the first date should be easy and light, not stuffy in a fancy restaurant where we are bored to death and unable to find things to eat that we can pronounce."

"Now that is a theory I can get behind entirely." You snag him a paper straw from the container next to the drink dispenser and send him one of those winks that he seems so fond of, just to be playful. "Although I do speak passable Italian."

"You do?" That is new information and he's delighted to learn that. It's charming to know that about you and he grins as he nods. "I can see it. Have you traveled to Italy?"

"I never got to." It's a regret, to be sure, but you made up your mind a while ago to not let those things drag you down anymore. It's been too long. "The first time I was in college, I was an art history major. Most of my focus was on the Italian Renaissance, so Italian was kind of necessary."

“I see.” Marcus nods. “Maybe you will be able to visit once you have your degree.” He offers, knowing that traveling to foreign countries is important.

"Once I have my degree this time, I hope I'll be able to find a good job." The best you can really do is shrug, pretending that you hadn't had to set aside several lifelong dreams when you dropped out of college the first time around. As short a life as it had been then, you've always been a dreamer. "It's okay." Not wanting to bring the mood down, you offer him a sunny smile and turn to wait for his name to be called at the counter. "I'll get there someday."

"I don't doubt it for a second." Marcus promises you with a smile. You are tenacious and he knows you will make it happen for yourself. "How many more of your classes are you shy of graduating?" He asks, as he stands beside you.

"Seven." It sounds like so much and so little all at once, and you stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket to resist the insane urge you have to hold his hand. "One more full year, basically. But I have a spot open in case I don't pass something this semester and need to retake."

"That's a smart thing to do." He is impressed with the way that you are thinking ahead. "Sometimes you don't pass the first time around, I know I couldn't pass my freshman statistics course to save my life."

“I took Intro to Botany for my science general ed thinking it would at least be interesting.” But from your cringe, he can tell that that isn’t true. “It turned out to be both insanely difficult and insanely boring. Which is a shame.”

"Yeah...." Marcus shakes his head. "I'm not the biggest fan of that class." He doesn't like professor Issacs, but you don't need to know that. He's never particularly cared for him, finding him pompous and egotistical without contributing much to the faculty. He seemed to make the course load harder for his students than it needed to be.

“Well, if Isaacs decides to flunk me, it’ll be Earth Sciences in fall, instead.” Which you probably should have done in the first place, but hindsight is 20/20 and all that. “How’s your grading looking? Staring down the barrel of a hundred and fifty tests and papers?”

"I actually have it down to a science." Marcus tells you with a small grin. "I should be done with grading by Sunday at the latest."

“Look at you, Professor Smarty Pants. You’ll have to teach me your tricks if I ever actually become a teacher.” You tease, grinning when the girl behind the counter calls his name, looks up, and recognizes him.

“Moreno?” She asks, stunned and wide eyes. “Marcus Moreno?” Her voice manages to go up several octaves. “I- oh my god!”

Taking his drink and grabbing some napkins and utensils is the most helpful thing you can do, and you watch with a smile as Marcus shakes the girl’s hand and chats with her for a second before grabbing the tray with your dinner. He’s in his element with people - any kind of people - and you always get a warm sort of pride whenever you’re with him when he’s recognized. Despite having no claim on him but friendship, you’re still proud of him.

Marcus listens to the girl gush, he had apparently saved her about five years ago, right before he had quit going out into the field with the other Heroics. Making him recall the incident and he smiles as she thanks him for what he had done, shaking his head and claiming that it had been nothing. Grateful that you aren’t annoyed that he’s having time taken away from the date. When he finally comes back over to you, he gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You push the door open to go outside and let him go through first with the tray. “You’ve saved people's lives. You saved that girl’s life. That’s no small thing. Not at all.”

“It’s bad, but I don’t remember her.” Marcus feels guilty, but it’s the truth. There were a lot of people that day.

“And she never has to know that.” There is one picnic table closer to the water than the others, and you both move toward it instinctively. “I can’t imagine you remembering every person you ever saved. But I’m sure they'll all remember you for the rest of their lives.”

“It’s daunting.” Marcus admits. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I don’t crave attention.” He snorts. “I’m not Miracle Guy.”

“No one is.” You smirk, knowing Miracle Guy’s reputation for tooting his own horn.

Marcus chuckles at your expression and shrugs slightly. “He’s got quite the fan club.”

“And he loves it. But fame isn’t everyone’s first choice.” At the table you set everything out between you and sit side by side so you can both look out over the water while you eat. “For what it’s worth? I like you just as you are.”

“Well thank you.” Marcus moves your beer over to you and grins. “While we eat, maybe you can tell me why you chose teaching?”

“Have we never talked about that?” He shakes his head when you ask and you pop the cap off your beer. “Teaching was always on my radar.” You tell him, figuring that’s the best place to start. “I thought about teaching art, originally. But when I was taking care of my mom…the thing that she had the most energy for was books. We would read together constantly, until it was just me reading to hear and we would talk about every chapter and every book together. It was our own private book club, and I fell in love with literature all over again.”

"I like that." Marcus hates the fact that it seems like your mother is gone, he can't even imagine losing his mother right now although his father died when he was twelve, but he reaches out and takes your hand. "I'm sure that those memories are the ones that she cherished the most." He murmurs softly.

It’s not exactly the way you wanted it to happen - out of sympathy instead of excitement - but you look down at his large hands covering yours and smile. “She was my best friend,” you tell him, aware that your voice has dropped a little. “And I just hope I’m making her proud.”

“Doing exactly what you want to do and living your life how you want to live it is exactly what would make a parent proud.” He knows not all parents subscribe to that, but he feels like your mother would, considering how you’ve turned out.

“Thanks.” You shake your head, almost trying to release the cobwebs from the corners of your mind. “Sorry…I…I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

“You’re not bringing the mood down.” Marcus assures you, almost instantly. “Talking about our lives and what has happened is learning about each other. It’s the human condition that none of us are without personal tragedy.”

“I suppose.” Not wanting to let go just yet, you take a sip of your drink with your other hand. “Although most men would not feel that way on a first date. So thank you for being your compassionate self.”

“I am no stranger to things like this.” Marcus reminds you softly. “Do you know how many people hit on me at my wife’s funeral? And then didn’t understand why I was angry at them?”

“Are you serious?” The worst part is that you can imagine it. People offering to comfort the grieving widower with varying degrees of subtlety and lewdness. “That’s…that’s despicable, Marcus. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s done.” Marcus rubs his thumb in the back of your hand gently. “But I’ve learned that there are really good people in the world too, and you’re one of them.” He tells you with a soft smile.

“I really like you.” Though it comes out inelegantly, and you can feel your cheeks burn when you fear it, the sentiment is honest. “I mean…obviously. Since I’m here with you. But I guess I mean…I’m glad that you feel that way. Because the time that I’ve been able to spend with you is the happiest that I’ve been in a really long time.”

"That's good." He lights up, grinning broadly and can't quite hide the way his chest puffs out slightly at your praise of him and the time you have spent together. A lot of it has been innocent but it's a building block for what he wants. More.

With the air slightly clearer between you, you dig into your dinner with enthusiasm. The little roadside seafood shack is playing with no less than its A-game so everything is fresh and delicious. The sea is calm, treating you to crisp breezes and the occasional creature-sighting, and little joke after little joke piles up to have you both in a fit of giggles by the time the meal winds down. In your entire life a first date has never been this relaxed or fun, and you're starting to think that maybe you've just been dating the wrong people all along.

Marcus leans back and sighs. “Well, want to continue on and find our dessert stand?” He asks playfully, rubbing his stomach. “Or do you not have room?”

"There is always room for dessert." You tell him, with an air that you're giving some kind of sage wisdom. "Especially cold desserts on warm nights." It will be sundown soon and the mid-May sun is only just starting to lose power. "Do you know a place or are we driving until we find one?" Either way is fine with you. Either way is time spent with him.

“I’m kinda winging it.” Marcus admits with a grin. “Trying to be more spontaneous? Missy said I shouldn’t plan everything out like I do normally.”

"You told Missy?" Admittedly, you had been afraid to ask if he was going to or not, knowing that his relationship with his daughter means the world to him. You wouldn't have been surprised or offended if he had chosen to hold off on telling her about you until it became more serious. The fact that he did - that you seem to be important enough to him to have her know about you - floods you with warmth and joy.

“She’s the one that told me I needed to stop…how did she put it? “Being a wuss’  and ask you out.” He chuckles as he stands from the table and picks up the tray that you’ve both deposited all the trash from your dinner onto. He’ll throw it away and return the tray before getting back on the bike with you.

"Your daughter and my roommate." You can't help but chuckle a little, walking with him to the trash bins to chuck your beer bottle in the recycles. "Well...I'm glad one of us listened to our advice giver. I'm pretty sure I would have been too chicken when push came to shove."

“I was half convinced that I was making up the entire thing in my head.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at himself. “That maybe you just felt sorry for me and that’s why you ate lunch with me.”

"Not at all." The fact that he thought it, though, shows his humility. "Actually, at first I thought the reverse. That you were taking pity on your weird student who was older than everybody else by being friendly."

“God no.” Marcus breathes out. “You saved my sanity. Having someone who was understanding that it’s insane for all these girls to be wanting me?” He rolls his eyes. “There’s a group of them that started calling me ‘daddy’ and I just-“ he shrugs and laughs in that defeated and disbelieving kind of way. “Why?”

When you snort to keep from bursting out laughing, you can only hold up your hand to apologize. “Marcus, it’s because you’re hot. A sexy guy in a position of authority with a nurturing personality is a recipe for being a daddy.”

“But…I—” He trails off and his eyes widen slightly in realization. “Dear God.” He huffs after a long moment of silence.

“It’s a compliment,” you promise, looping your arm around him and hugging him while you desperately try to keep the laughter inside. “A slightly weird one, but a compliment nonetheless.”

“They do realize that I would never actually….date them, right?” He asks. “It would be so wrong.” Most of his class are seniors but the age gap widens every year and now there’s only three or four years between the freshman class and his daughter.

“The reasonable ones do. The less reasonable ones don’t care. That’s not the point.” Together you walk back around the tiny restaurant and out to the parking lot, but Marcus doesn’t move away from you so you keep your hand on him while you go. “They’ll get it out of their systems eventually and then you won’t have to hear it anymore. Besides, I think the ringleaders of that particular nickname are all graduating this year.” One of them was Monica, you know that for sure. But she’ll be graduated and gone in no time.

“Hopefully.” Marcus looks over at you, “although I wouldn’t mind a certain former student dropping by sometimes when she has time.” He teases.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk, unable to resist screwing with him just a little. “I’ll let Monica know. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

��Do it and you’ll buy your own ice cream.” Marcus threatens playfully. He doesn’t mean it, but the idea of Monica haunting his office hours after graduation is almost enough to make his time by virtual connection only.

“That’s a very serious threat, you know.” You’re giggling when you make it to his bike, practically doubled over with it just from the mortified look on his face. “Of course I’ll drop by office hours. How else am I going to say hi?” Doing your best not to count on anything - or to get your hopes up too high - you have ended up just sort of assuming that he won’t want to go on another date after tonight. That it will be too weird for him or you won’t be as good as what he has built up in his mind before now. It’s helping to keep your expectations grounded, because your hopes are already imagining what it will be like to get to know his daughter.

“Welllllllll, I guess we could communicate through mirrors and reflections, smoke signals, or pigeon carriers.” Marcus snorts. “But I was hoping it would include the occasional phone call, or visit in person. I’ll even text.”

"I would pay money to see Missy teaching you how to text." That starts up the giggles again, but in a much more lighthearted way. "Look, Marcus..." You manage not to sigh, thank god, but your tone does trend a bit more serious. All fears aside for you, you know that he hasn't dated in an extremely long time and deserves some reassurance. "I told you that I really like you and I meant it. So if you decide you want to keep seeing me after tonight? I'm a commitment girl. So dropping by your office with snacks or to spend some time together will be a given."

“I know how to text.” Marcus grumbles, pouting at you slightly. “I just don’t. There’s no inflection. And how can I convey emotion?” He reaches out to take the helmet you had worn off the back of the bike to put it back on you. “I think this date is going really well, how about you?” He asks. “So I don’t know why I wouldn’t want to see you again.”

"If I tell you that I'm having a great night but trying not to set my expectations too high, do I get to see that cute pout again?" The fact that he sets the helmet on you and buckles it in place so he knows you're safe is about the cutest thing ever.

Just to get you to grin again, he does the pout again. Holding it for a few seconds before he shakes his head in disappointment. “And here I was thinking that you should set the expectations sky high.” He rumbles dramatically.

'My hopes are sky high," you assure him, feeling daring enough to reach out and touch his arm again even if it's only briefly. "But I know this is a big step for you, so I didn't want you to feel pressured."

“I don’t.” He promises, reaching up and chucking your chin softly before he glances down at your lips. “Not at all. Although there’s some pressure, it’s not something you have to worry about unless you want to.”

"What do you mean?" Tilting your head to one side, you don't miss the way he glances down at your lips, though the innuendo goes straight over your head.

He chuckles quietly and lets go of your chin. “I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.” He teases, turning back and grabbing his own helmet. “Let me know when you got it worked out.”

"Well that's not fair." It's your turn to pout now, just as playfully. "I have no talent for double meanings, if my roommate is to be believed."

“Really?” He turns back around and smirks at you. “If you don’t figure it out by the time I drop you off at your place, I’ll let you in on the pressure.”

"You're enjoying this too much." But it's amusing rather than anything else, and you nudge him playfully.

“Maybe a little.” He chuckles as he climbs back on the bike and motions you over. “Climb back on, sweetheart.”

If teasing you is what keeps that smile on his face then you are all for it. You just shake your head to make him laugh again and swing your leg back over the back of his bike. Your arms slide easily around his waist this time with no hesitation in the thing, and you giggle all over again when the engine roars to life.

“Want to go a little faster this time?” Marcus yells over his shoulder.

"Go for it!" There's no question you'll be safe with him, and the adrenaline from the ride is definitely worth it, so you just hold on a little tighter.

“Hang on!” Marcus laughs as he kicks the peg up and twists the throttle of the bike hard enough to lurch you out of the parking spot and make you squeal in surprise.

Back on the highway Marcus picks up the pace, moving you through traffic with expert handling and a fearlessness that goes straight past anything worrying and directly to being such a damn turn on.

This time there’s less talking, more wind buffering around you. Marcus loves the feeling of it, having spent plenty of time wishing he had the skill of flying like Miracle Guy, but this is a close second. He grins as you squeeze him tight and he lets go of one handlebar to cover your hands with his own as he carries you further up the coast.

The colors of sunset are just starting to appear on the horizon when Marcus points out a sign for an ice cream stand up ahead. His hand has been warm on yours whenever it's been safe for him to have it there, and you could swear that the warmth radiating off of him in waves has changed somehow. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Throttling down, he pulls into the parking lot of the ice cream stand, happy that it seems moderately busy on this beautiful night. Even better, there’s benches facing the ocean to sit and eat. “Now are you a sundae kind of girl or a cone?” He asks playfully.

"Yes to both," you laugh honestly. You both take off your helmets and pop off the bike to stretch your legs, but stick close to each other while other people bustle around having fun. "But tonight feels like a cone night. Much easier for sitting and watching the water with."

“I agree.” Marcus can’t help but touch you again, keeping his hand on your back again. “Figure once we finish up here, we’ll turn around and start heading back to L.A. Don’t want you too sore from riding too long.”

"Sure. We got a perfect night for a few more hours of driving." Though you have no desire to see the night end, you're not trying to monopolize every second of his time. Or at least you wouldn't admit to wanting it. For now you just keep close and lean into his side a little as you stroll toward the stand overlooking the water.

“It’s also a good reason to stop at these stands.” He looks over at you and smirks. “If you aren’t used to it, it’s a real workout on your hips and thighs.”

"Some things are worth being sore for." It's amazing the way you miss even your own innuendo, but there it is. The words don't even register a second meaning on their way out of your mouth.

Marcus waits a beat for you to smirk, but you don’t. Giving credence to your claim that you don’t get secondary meanings. “Yep.” He chuckles. “Let’s figure out what ice cream we want.”

"I'm going to guess...pistachio for you." You glance up at him when you get into line and raise an eyebrow. "Or Rocky Road? Something classic."

“Actually…” Marcus smiles as he glances at the list of flavors. “I was thinking the sinful Caramel truffle swirl.” He admits.

"Ooh, we're going for something fancy tonight." It might be the mood or the sunset, but he is just remarkably handsome tonight. "Sounds tasty."

“You always go fancy with ice cream.” Marcus laughs. “Or red velvet, peanut butter cup mashup?”

"Red velvet and caramel swirl mash up?" Suddenly it's a game, playing with pairings, and his hand on your back has slipped to your waist making you feel giddy like you're still flying on that bike with him.

“Orrrr the banana flavored ice cream with peanut butter, chocolate chips and caramel swirl?” He asks, nearly drooling at the combinations they offer.

"The Elvis. Always a classic." All it's missing is bacon, and you would absolutely use that as a sundae topping. "I say we pick two and swap halfway through. Best of both worlds."

Marcus grins slowly and nods. “Sounds like a plan to me.” His fingers tighten on your waist slightly as you both turn back towards the window and step up to order. “Ladies first.” He murmurs to you.

You end up ordering coffee cookies and cream and Marcus gets the Elvis-inspired concoction that had him drooling, and within minutes you’re scouting for a place to sit in the small army of benches overlooking the water. The pinks, purples, and orange in the sky are a watercolor collage of the perfect sunset, and the smattering of other couples who also chose to stop here on their dates have given the place a more romantic feel than a little seaside ice cream stand probably ever would ever have on its own.

“Sooooo.” Marcus guides you over to the benches, the girl behind the window assuring them that they will bring the ice cream to you. “How is the view?” He asks, sitting down besides you and offering his hand. If you want to take it, you have the option.

“I think it might be my new favorite.” In fact, you’re so busy admiring his profile against the colorful sky that you almost miss his proffered hand. Almost. But you slip your hand into his larger one with a shy smile, relishing the simple intimacy.

Marcus isn’t looking at the sunset. Instead his eyes are on you. “Mine too.” He promises, curling his fingers around yours protectively.

“Yeah?” You’re both the same kind of sappy, it seems, and the smile on your face widens immeasurably. Your cheeks are going to ache from it tomorrow but you couldn’t care less. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He grins but doesn’t say anything else, just letting both of you settle back and watch the light play over the water. His hand doesn’t leave yours and he sighs softly. “The view of the water is nice too.”

A laugh - small and breathy - cracks your dreamy expression and you manage to thank the teenage girl who brings over your ice cream when she arrives a moment later. “Yes,” you grin at him, nearly giggling. “The water is nice, too.”

The first bite of the creamy, sweet ice cream makes Marcus moan, rolling his eyes back. “Holy shit.” He groans, taking another lick of the confection. “I know we’re trading but you have to try this now.” Having the perfect dessert almost makes up for having to let go of your hand. Almost.

“That good?” You ask, and he nods when he holds it out to you. It’s messier than you're proud of, that first taste, but you groan right along with him and let your eyes float shut happily. “Holy shit, it is that good.”

“Right?” He’s practically giddy as he takes another bite of it happily. “This is definitely a place to come back to again one night.”

“Absolutely.” The first bite of your own cone is just as good, and you moan again happily. “If it’s all this good then we’ll have to come back with Missy.”

“Missy will insist on it.” Marcus chuckles. “That girl has never met an ice cream flavor she didn’t love. She even eats mint chocolate chip.” He makes a face and grins at you.

“Mint chocolate chip is delicious!” You protest immediately, making him just grimace even more dramatically. “Fine, more for me and Missy, then. You’re the one missing out.”

“I will happily miss out.” He promises you. “I don’t care for the taste of toothpaste with my chocolate.”

“How about coffee and Oreos?” Offering him a first taste of your ice cream is only fair since you’d had one of his, but more than anything you’re just enjoying the easy teasing between you.

“Now you’re speaking my language.” Marcus doesn’t hesitate in sampling the cone you offer him and he groans happily. “God.”

“Right?” You laugh, trying to ignore the way the sounds reverberate through you anytime Marcus groans or moans over delicious food. “We have to come back. Gotta try every flavor.”

“Absolutely. Although with Missy coming, we’ll have to trade the motorcycle for the car.” He doesn’t mind it, and to be honest, he likes that you want to include his daughter.

“I don’t mind.” Spending time with his daughter is more important than how you travel, and honestly you’re not sure you’ll be composed enough for family bonding with how fucking wet riding that bike has made you. “The bike can be for when it’s just us.”

“I like the way you think.” Marcus smirks slightly and takes another bite of his ice cream.

“After all…” When you smirk at him it’s devious. “I don’t think the bike would be considered very ‘Daddy’ of you.”

He snorts, nearly choking on the melted cream of his dessert. “That’s just mean.”

“Me? Mean?” You blink at him innocently, with your eyes as wide as they’ll go. “Never! But tease? Absolutely.”

“So you tease but you don’t get the dirty meanings behind comments?” He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. “Interesting.”

“I guess I just…never expect anyone to make dirty comments to me?” It feels like an excuse, or something silly, and you shrug your shoulders. “So it never occurs to me.”

“Why?” That seems impossible to him. You’re beautiful, kind, smart and funny. “While I don’t subscribe to catcalling women all the time, there’s got to be times where people come onto you.”

“Maybe.” Another shrug and you feel yourself looking away, like you ought to be embarrassed for missing out on something. “But I never notice unless it’s extremely obvious. Like the day you asked me to have lunch with you the first time? You flat out asked me.”

“I don’t mind having to be blunt.” Marcus leans in and nudges your shoulder slightly. “I’ll keep it in mind when I want you to know I’m flirting with you.”

“I’ll learn,” you promise, knowing the whole thing sounds silly to any ‘normal’ person. “Learning how you flirt is easier than learning how everybody in the world flirts.”

“This is very true.” Marcus is halfway down with his cone so he dutifully holds it out for you to take.

“Trade time.” You offer him your cone in exchange, glad that something so simple can be enjoyable for both of you. After everything you’ve been through over the last few years, you really have realized that it’s the little things that mean the most to you. Something as simple as sharing food makes everything much more intimate.

“We might have to get a couple of pints to take home next time.” Marcus suggests. “Bring a cooler.”

“We can make homemade ice cream sandwiches.” The thoughts roll on - of spending more time with him, getting to know Missy - the daydreams you have only started to allow yourself this week as you waited eagerly tonight.

“Ohhhh make some cookies for the sandwiches.” Marcus groans, rolling his eyes at the idea.

“Exactly.” His enthusiastic reaction makes you grin, hoping that some of these little dreams might come true sooner rather than later. Tonight has really been perfect, and you don’t want it to end even if all you do is sit here in the after-dusk and watch the water together.

“So…anything else you want to do?” He asks softly. “We don’t have to end the date after we get back to L.A.”

“Honestly? We could probably do anything and I’d enjoy it.” Simple, maybe, but you prefer to think of it as being easy going. And you’ve never not enjoyed time with this man. “Maybe we could just…curl up? Watch a movie or something? Unless that sounds boring to you.”

“We could do that.” Marcus offers after thinking about it for a second. “Do you want to do this at your place or mine?” Just because you were picked up from a date at your apartment doesn’t mean you want him to come back to it. He frantically tries to remember if he did the dishes this morning.

“It’s probably easier if you come back to mine, I think.” Not that the very idea of it doesn’t have you shaking a little with anticipation. “That way you don’t have to drive the round trip between our places just to drop me off.”

“If that’s what you want.” Marcus chuckles quietly and decides to be honest. “I was just panicking and praying I had cleaned up from breakfast this morning.”

“There’s no reason to worry about that.” You shake your head, pausing for a second to lick away a drop of ice cream before it can skate down your hand. “A pristine house always confuses me. It’s supposed to be where you live, and life is messy.”

“Life is messy but I don’t think day old dishes are the way to express it.” Marcus chuckles. “I always think of shoes by the door, backpacks slung over the stair banister, throws and pillows messy on the couch.” He shrugs. “Basically how my house looks.”

“If you would be more comfortable at your house, I don’t mind.” For you, this is all about making him as at ease as possible, because you know that no matter what you’ll enjoy yourself. “I can take an Uber home?” Or spend the night, but you won’t say that part out loud.

He chuckles quietly. “I was wanting you to be comfortable.” He pouts slightly, playfully, at you.

“Too considerate for our own good.” You have to laugh a little, realizing that you’re both dancing around each other. “Why don’t we go to your house, then?” An Uber ride now will give you time to think, and to maybe not do something impulsive like ask him to stay.

Marcus nods. “That sounds good. We’ll have the house to ourselves and not have to worry about bothering the neighbors.” He murmurs, knowing you probably won’t get his meaning.

“Sounds good.” The smile you give him is admittedly a little dreamy, but that’s okay. A first date should be dreamy if it’s any good. Now that it’s officially dark out, the night seems to have taken on an extra layer of comfort that you hadn’t expected. Or maybe it’s just that you’re leaning into his side on the bench.

Marcus quickly devours the cone, but he offers you the very tip of the cone - the best part in his opinion. “Here, sweetheart.” He leans up and holds it up to your lips. “The sweetest bite.”

There’s something very intimate about it but you don’t shy away, accepting the gift by nipping it right out of his fingers with your teeth but still accidentally grazing his fingers with your lips in the process. He’s right about it, though, and you hum happily when you offer him the same last bite of the cone you had been holding.

It should be obvious how Marcus is feeling from the way his breath catches when you graze his fingers, but he doesn’t know. So he makes it obvious. He wraps his lips around your fingers and sucks lightly.

As gentle as he is when he does it, it sucks the air straight out of your lungs to make you gasp. There's no possible way to miss the deliberate way his tongue flicks at your fingertips instead of focusing on the nub of the ice cream cone that you had been offering, and although he does come away with the treat in his mouth that's not at all what you're focused on now. You stare for a second before you can compose yourself again, and instead of being gobsmacked you immediately feel your whole face burning.

"Delicious." He hums, smirking at you slightly as he licks his lips before he starts to lick his fingers clean of any melted ice cream that dripped down. "Are you ready to go back?" He asks, watching you carefully as he sucks his thumb clean.

The reply gets stuck in your throat at first but you nod, eventually managing to stammer out a "Yes" and flustering, because what you want to do is drag him in for a kiss but that seems awfully forward. Or maybe it isn't at this point and you're just paranoid - who knows.

Marcus chuckles quietly, suddenly more confident on this date than he had been up to this point. His knuckles brush across your cheek and there’s still just a touch of light over the ocean to make the scene romantic with the string of lights around to give it a nice glow. “I’m going to kiss you, unless you say no.” He warns softly, making his intentions known and giving you a chance to pull away as he leans in.

“Why the hell would I do that?” It gives you just a second to appreciate his knack for crystal clear communication, which means the world to you, but you’re also not trying to open a dialogue. You lean in as easily as breathing, finding his lips a half seconds faster than he anticipated, and let your eyes flutter closed at that first touch. It feels so natural, like everything else tonight, and you reach one hand up to cup his cheek while the moment lingers between you beautifully.

Marcus sighs into the soft kiss. It’s gentle, promising. A first kiss that sweet dreams are made of and he’s careful to not take it any deeper. If you want to kiss him again, he can expand then. After a moment, or many an hour, he pulls away with a smile. “Ready, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.” As soft and sweet as it is, your whole self is buzzing with it and you run your thumb along his jaw as you nod. “Ready, handsome.”

The two of you stand up and there’s a natural way that you seem to drift towards each other. His hand sliding around your waist and he hums softly. “Are you warm enough in that jacket for the ride home?” He asks, knowing that it will get cooler now that the sun is down.

“I’ll be okay.” He must not know that he radiates heat. It comes off him in waves and you’ve wondered more than once how he could possibly survive wearing sweaters like he does in Southern California weather while being so warm. Maybe it’s just an aura he gives off. “If I’m chilly when we get to your house we’ll just have to curl up under a blanket.”

Marcus groans slightly, barely refraining from making another dirty comment, but his fingers flex slightly on your hip. “Whatever you want.” He promises.

“Did I say something?” You’re starting to pick up on things. On his cues that could be considered unusual. At least, he never groaned around you before.

“Yeah.” He knows you didn’t mean it sexually. “I was just thinking of all the ways I could be under a blanket with you, sweetheart.” He admits as the two of you stop in front of his bike again. “It’s adding to that pressure I was talking about.”

With two pieces of the puzzle, it's like something clicks into place in your mind and you suck in another breath, clamping your mouth shut to keep from openly giggling. "Oh." You duck your head and push into his space a little, just to press a kiss to his cheek. "I wouldn't... wouldn't mind not making it through the movie," you admit quietly.

He chuckles quietly and reaches for the helmet for you. “That’s up to you.” He promises quietly. “Completely up to you.”

The ride back to LA is easy. The giddiness in your blood is different than it was when you left the city but no less exciting - just a new kind of anticipation. The idea that he does actually want you as much as you want him is exhilarating, making you hyper aware of the way you have to cling to him as he guides you through traffic. The strength of him despite how he might look soft to the outside observer. The breadth of his back and shoulders giving you a place to rest your head as your drive that only makes you wonder if the breadth of his chest would be even more comforting.

There is a slight urgency to getting back this time. He’s not speeding too badly but it’s not the leisurely drive it had been on the way out. Not with the fact that your hand has slipped under his jacket and resting on his stomach, warm and heavy.

His house is picturesque from the outside: the pinnacle of upper-middle class southern California comfort. A gate and security box outside let you in to see the well kept front yard and around the side of the house where the pool is beckoning with welcome. It looks tidy but not fussy, which is just like him. "Home sweet home?" You hum when he cuts the engine in his driveway.

“Home sweet home.” Marcus offers, letting you swing yourself off the back of the bike before he lets down the kickstand and dismounts himself. “Hopefully you like it.”

"I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't." As reluctant as you are to pull away, you take off the helmet you had been wearing and hand it off to him to secure. The night has barely gotten a chill but the ride definitely created a breeze, and you smile when you take his offered hand. "Do you want to give me the grand tour?"

“Of course.” He practically beams at how you smile at him. It’s the type of smile that makes him feel like a warm blanket has settled over him. “Missy has managed to make this hang out central in the summertime when she’s here. The kids like to come swim.”

“I would too, if I were them. Any place with a pool is the best place to spend free time.” There’s vestiges of teenagers everywhere when he shows you the path to the backyard - pool toys in a large crate and everything brightly colored in every way. It feels lived in and loved.

“Of course. And it’s always asking if I can grill hamburgers or whatever.” He huffs, but his grin gives away how much he enjoys it. “Do you know how many bags of chips teenagers can plow through?”

“It’s gonna be even more if I start coming over.” You flash him a grin that says you’re one hundred percent ready to suck up to his daughter to make sure she likes you. “Dips and desserts are kind of my thing.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Do you mean to bring them or I’ll have to buy more?” He teases with a wink.

“Oh no, I’ll make them.” You promise, laughing right with him. “Nothing says pool party and burgers like fresh salsa and guac.”

“You make homemade guacamole and my daughter would be your best friend.” Marcus laughs. “She eats it all by herself.”

“Befriending Missy is very high on my list of priorities.” That’s something that shouldn’t be a secret from him - that you value him enough to make his daughter a priority. Tonight has been amazing and might still continue to get better, and it’s important that he knows how seriously you take this.

“The key to her heart is avocados and green chili sauce.” He confides, whispering playfully. “If you can make green chili enchiladas, she might ask you to move in.”

Your other hand moves around his waist when he pulls you into his side and you grin up at him when you hug him. “I really hope you don’t mind having me around then, because it sounds like Missy and I can live off the same foods.”

“If you can cook it, thank God.” Marcus huffs. “Because for some reason mine never turns out right.”

“We’ll have to see what she thinks.” You lean into Marcus with a smile. “I hope they make the cut.”

“If they are halfway decent, it would be a lot better than mine.” He chuckles, leaning into you and sending you an up close wink.

“Wanna show me the inside?” A nod to the house is a small thing, but getting to see his space for the first time is a big deal.

“Of course! Yes, of course.” He huffs at himself and shakes his head. “Come inside, please.”

The house is lived in. Cozy and as tidy as it can be while being inhabited by a single dad and his teenage daughter. No cleaning lady has been through here, no private chef has seen the inside of this kitchen or painstakingly set this table. It hasn’t been touched by an interior decorator or a stylist. It’s just their home, and you like it all the better for that.

“So this is it.” He’s never been a showy person, motioning to the living room and open kitchen. “It’s home and to be honest, probably could use a hell of a dusting.” He admits, blushing slightly.

“It’s just like you.” The words come with a soft, lopsided smile. “Comfortable, welcoming. Like you don’t want to leave once you’ve been let inside.”

Marcus smiles slowly and nods. “Well it’s a good thing that you only leave when you want to.”

It’s a chance to take, but you’re willing to go out on a limb right now. With his fingers still threaded through yours it’s easy to turn into him and tip your head back. It’s just a small moment, or at least it starts that way, but you place a kiss to the corner of his mouth in what is - for you - a very daring move. “That is a good thing,” you murmur, hoping that wasn’t too forward after he kissed you earlier in the evening.

It warms him, making him snake his free hand around your waist and pull you closer. “Hmmmm.” He hums quietly and shakes his head. “We can do better than that, sweetheart.” He promises before he leans in to kiss you again.

It’s firmer this time, more wanting, and you sigh into it with a freedom and enthusiasm that is only encouraged by how close he’s holding you.

Marcus feels the tension building, loves how naturally this is progressing and he tilts his head slightly so he can run his tongue along the seam of your lips.

You shiver a little and sigh, opening up for him and gliding your tongue along his for that first taste of exploring something deeper. While his hand tightens at your waist, yours slide up his shoulders easily, pulling the two of you together like magnets. You opening up for him is like opening the floodgates for Marcus. The needs that have been building for him spill out, making him become more assertive. Guiding you towards a counter while groaning into your mouth, he presses against your body, his own hard and throbbing for you.

Permission has been given here - permission to act and permission to want in a way that you can’t remember even scratching the surface of with anyone before him. Of course there were others before him, you’re not that innocent, but it’s been a long time and something about the way Marcus is mapping the inside of your mouth so carefully and methodically feels momentous. You moan for him, softly at first but it quickly becomes needy, and tangle your fingers in his clothes like a desperate, silent plea to have them out of the way.

“Baby.” Marcus pants as he pulls away, sucking in the air he had been deprived of while he was kissing you. His lips trail down your jaw. “You need- let me know- if- if we need to stop.” He manages.

“Could say the s-same to you —” It’s not as though you haven’t dreamt of this. Gotten yourself off to the thought of this. Tried to imagine if he would be rough and needy from desperation or soft and gentle out of caution and affection. Now that you might be a hair’s breadth away from finding out you don’t ever want to stop.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Marcus lets out a breathless chuckle against your pulse. “Baby I want to show you my bedroom.” He murmurs desperately. His cock twitches against your stomach.

“Please.” There’s nothing more straight forward than that, and you nod almost frantically.

“Okay.” He pulls away from you and takes your hand. “Let’s go upstairs.” He offers, giving you a moment to breathe.

If you were in a more eloquent mood you might have thought it was like being led through a palace by your very own Prince Charming, but as it stands the only thing you can really focus on is the heat radiating off of him and the urgency with which you’re both climbing the stairs. You barely make it to the landing before you’re glued to each other again, blindly grasping along the hallway as you moan into another kiss.

It has been a long time since Marcus was in such a hurry to ferry someone into his bedroom. Yet his hands grip every part of you that he can reach and he is pushing off your jacket right there in front of the stairs so he can touch more of you. Drunk off the soft sounds you pour into his mouth.

One by one the pieces of clothing start to drop - your purse, both jackets, his shirt - with an urgency that you hadn't known you had until his hands were spanning your whole hips with one great grasp and his teeth found exactly how sensitive the tender skin of your neck is. "Marcus–" His name is a prayer before it becomes a chant and your own hands map the expanse of his chest as you tumble through a doorway that you desperately hope leads to his bedroom.

“Gonna make this good baby.” It’s a desperate promise to his ears, especially as long as he’s been without intimacy. Unless you count him jerking off this morning in a desperate attempt to not attack you. Though that point seems to be moot.

"So good." How could you doubt that about him? Well...you don't, honestly, but you understand that as long as it's been for you it's been much longer for him. And to have a little reassurance might go a very long way tonight. "So fucking good."

“Let me know if I do something that you don’t like.” Marcus orders you softly, smirking at you because he doesn’t think that it will be likely. “It has been a long time since I’ve been able to go down on someone.”

“Fuck, Marcus.” Having had no expectation for tonight, that bowls you over like a ton of bricks and you look up at him with lust blown eyes. “There is nothing I don’t like about that.”

He chuckles, the deep, raspy sound of arousal and anticipation. “You don’t know, I could be a biter.” He teases, knowing that he will put his teeth marks on you in a few different places.

"How do you know I wouldn't like that?" You tease back, enjoying that every single second doesn't have to be fully loaded and serious. Being able to laugh with your lover is something you need.

Marcus snaps his teeth at you playfully at winks. “Only one way to find out.”

Giggling in response, you happily draw him in for another kiss before stepping back toward his bed. One pull brings your dress up over your head, and you just have to thank your lucky stars that you wore a reasonably cute matching underwear set tonight. It's not all the way to lingerie, but it's nicer than your every-day stuff. If you had anticipated this at all, you would have pulled out the fanciest thing you own.

“Fuck.” The sight of your pretty panties and bra makes his cock twitch in his pants and he’s quickly ridding himself of the t-shirt he had worn. He might be slightly self conscious, it’s been a long time since he was in Heroics shape, but he ignores that as he stares.

"You took the word right out of my mouth." It might be a silly thing, but you can't help staring right back for a moment. The little bit of softness around his middle doesn't diminish his figure one ounce. If anything, you like a bit of softness with all that strength. He looks broader like this - shoulders tapering down to trim hips - and you step backward again. One step closer to his bed.

“Take off your bra.” Marcus orders quietly before he smirks and holds up his hand to stop you. “Better yet…hold still.”

Tilting your head at him, you stop reaching behind you. A second later the hook and eye clasps on your bra open completely untouched. "Did you just--?" Your hand immediately reaches back to touch the clasp, which feels completely normal and unbent, and you pull your bra down your arms with a smirk. "Metal powers. Handy."

“Very handy.” He might look like the cat who got the cream and his eyes only get wider as your breasts are revealed to him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching for the button of his jeans. “Do you like your nipples sucked on?” He asks, mouthwatering as he imagines it.

"Mmhmm." For some reason the question paralyzes you, like that is somehow what has made tonight completely real. "I-- y-yes, god yes."

“Then I’m going to suck on them.” Marcus groans like you’ve given him a gift. “I’m going to suck on them while my fingers stretch open your little pussy before I lick it.”

"Fuck." One more step back and your calves bump against his bed frame, almost making you lose your balance because you weren't expecting to find the all-important piece of furniture so easily. "Do it, Marcus. Touch me, please."

His jeans are pushed down, his boxers tented with a large wet spot from where he is leaking. “Lay down.” Marcus practically growls out the order, eager to see you spread out in his bed.

All in one not-too-smooth motion, you shift back onto his bed and slip out of your panties, wanting to just bypass any other awkwardness by laying yourself bare for him. Everything Marcus wants at this moment, you are more than happy to give him.

He had wanted to strip off your panties, but it’s completely okay if you are bare. Giving him the perfect unobstructed view of your body. He hisses through his teeth and rushes to strip off his boxers. “Jesus baby, look at you.”

"Too busy looking at you." His cock is thick, and longer than you've had before, sending a delicious shiver down your spine as you take in the sight of him prowling toward you. Two steps and he's leaning on the bed, making the mattress dip to hold his weight and bringing the heat of his proximity back to you. "Fucking gorgeous."

“Yes you are.” Marcus hovers over you, watching you squirm underneath him as he takes in the view. “Let me kiss you again, sweetheart.”

"Gladly." You would drown in him right now if you could - kissing him is the least of it. The weight and breadth of him on top of you makes you feel almost dainty as you breathe him in, and just a touch of warm wetness on the inside of your thigh tells you he is just as excited by the turn tonight has taken as you are.

The kiss is hot, frantic and Marcus is lowering himself onto you before he even realizes it. Needing to get closer. “Fuck.”

It feels like your hands are everywhere at once, trying to map the length and breadth of him while you memorize his taste. With no hesitations between you, the instinct to reach down and wrap your hand around his length is easy to give in to.

You would think that he’s been surprised, maybe even hurt from the way that Marcus sucks in a loud breath. But there’s no mistaking the way his hips jerk forward when your hand surrounds his cock and squeezes gently. It’s the sweetest kind of torture and he feels the burst of pearly liquid build up on the tip naturally. “Shit.” The ragged groan is followed by his mouth starting to blaze a wet trail across your chest in search of your nipple.

Your own gasp nearly matches when he finds it, drawing a moan from you and arching your back off the bed and letting your eyes flutter shut just for a second before you peel them open again to watch him. Ravenous isn’t usually a word you would use to describe Marcus but right now he is a man starved and the first step to satiating him is found at your tits.

There had been a few times where he had worried he wouldn’t be able to do this again. That he would be too nervous or just unsure of the new partner. But you have stripped all of those insecurities away and left him with nothing but heavy desire.

The sounds surrounding you like a halo turn filthy quickly. Groans muffled by skin, vocal moans, the sloppy sounds of Marcus lapping at your chest more and more desperately every time your hand moves on his cock.

“Fuck.” His groan is muffled around your nipple. His hands blaze a trail over your skin, groping and squeezing every piece of flesh he could. “So good.”

“Marcus—” You whimper when he moves across your chest, latching onto your neglected nipple with eager determination. “Fuck baby — need you to touch me. Please.”

Once you beg him, Marcus can’t deny you anything. His fingers slide down to slide through your folds and press against your clit as he switches over to the other breast. Your hand around his stills when he presses his fingers into you, totally absorbed in the feeling of being split open on two of his thick fingers as his thumb rubs circles over your clit. It has your chest heaving and body aching all at once, desperate to get as close to him as possible. To draw him into you and get him as addicted to the feel of you surrounding him as you already are to him surrounding you.

“So sweet.” Marcus pulls off your tit and groans when he feels how fucking tight you are as he pumps his fingers into your body. “Fuck, that what you need? That good? You need me to curl them?” He wants to know how to make you cum, wants to hear those breathless cries.

"C-curl, fuck, please--" It's impossible to form a complete thought with his fingers moving inside of you so gorgeously, but you nod and hope he can understand the broken sentence for what it is. "So good."

He hears you, his teeth nipping the side of your breast as he curls his fingers up and presses them deeper.

You keen in response, crying his name and grasping his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, curling them perfectly against that gorgeous spongy spot inside of you and making you see stars. "Just-- fuck -- like that, oh my god."

Marcus groans, breathing against your skin and closing his eyes at the sound of your moan. “Good girl.” He coos breathlessly. “Oh fuck, good girl.” His cock pulses against your hip but he wants to make this good for you. Knowing that he won’t last too long in bed this time.

It's all too overwhelming and so good in all the ways that you've missed being touched, and Marcus's rhythm doesn't falter as he pushes you right to the edge. Barely gasping out a warning before your whole body seems to lock down under him, his name is on your lips when you fall apart for him the first time.

Marcus shudders, feeling the liquid heat rush over his fingers. Making him moan your name quietly as he keeps pumping his fingers up into to keep the pressure against that spongy spot and draw it out for you while he kisses along your jaw and murmurs small words of encouragement in your ear. “Good girl, so fucking good. Ride it out for me, baby.”

"Goddamn." When you feel like you can breathe again, you turn your head to capture his lips in a sloppy, eager kiss. "So fucking good, baby."

He chuckles quietly, soaking up your praise and slowly pulling his fingers out of you along with a whine when he does. “Good.” He pants. “You want–” He pulls back and looks into your eyes. “Can I fuck you, baby?” He asks.

"Fuck yes." There's no hesitation for you. Months of dreaming - and daydreaming - about this makes you nothing but pliant and needy. "I-I'm safe," you manage to pant out between kisses. "IUD, I mean."

He groans the idea of feeling you bare and having you full of his cum. “Good. I’m safe too.” He promises, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Been a long time and I’ve had a clean bill of health.”

"It's been a while for me, too." There's no reason for him to be self-conscious about that, and you brush the damp curls of hair out of his face to press a kiss to his forehead. "Doesn't matter," you smile softly. "Just matters that it's you."

That more than anything, makes him relax. Marcus kisses you, forgetting that he had promised to use his tongue on you as he shifts and covers your body with his. “So fucking beautiful.” He groans.

"All for you, baby," you promise him, knowing that nothing in the damn universe could pull you out of this man's bed now that you're here.

He doesn’t rush. Instead, settling between your thighs is a slow affair. He’s not some teenager that needs to be inside you, although the ache has built up to almost painful. Instead he kisses you as his hand slides between your bodies so he can position himself at your core and his eyes watch yours as he slowly starts to sheath himself in your welcoming body.

You feel like you're holding your breath as he presses into you, filling you up inch by gorgeous inch, but it's the low moan reverberating in your chest and the thick cock slowly splitting you open that gives you the feeling of breathlessness. Marcus isn't in a hurry and neither are you. With your foreheads pressed together and sounds of pleasure coming from both of you, the room around you has dissolved and narrowed your reality down to just him.

“Holy shit.” Marcus’s arms are trembling by the time he is buried to the hilt and he swears that he can’t breathe. The sexy and playful moment turns serious and he can’t do anything more than to press his lips tenderly to yours again while he tries to give you time to adjust before he moves.

He pulls back, rolling his hips away from you as slowly as he had punished them forward, and you gasp into his kiss when he drives into you again - slightly faster but not with anything approaching speed. A languid pace gives you both time to find a rhythm together and your lips only leave his to kiss and nip along his jaw line while he moans in your ear.

He closes his eyes as he languidly rocks into you. Keeping the pace steady. “When you’re ready, let me know.” He murmurs slowly, feeling the exquisite pleasure of your walls squeezing him. “I want to hear you scream my name tonight.”

"More, baby." He knows damn well that you're not above begging, and your tone is borderline pleading even without needing to be. All you know is that you want to be completely overwhelmed by him. "Fuck, I-- please, Marcus, want you so bad."

“W-wrap your legs around me.” Marcus groans out, pushing to his elbows and grins at you. “And hang on.”

Curiosity has you following his instruction as much as anything else, and you shift under him just enough to have your ankles meet at the small of his back. Your hands grasping at his arms and shoulders will have to be enough to ‘hang on’ like you’ve been told.

He hums, pleased by your willingness to comply and he grins at you, devilish as he winks. “Now tell me if I need to slow down.” He says before he withdraws again and snaps his hips forward.

“Fuck!” Slow and steady is apparently not Marcus’s preferred pace, as he begins to pound into you with stamina that could only come from a Heroic. If his goal is really to have you screaming his name, you have a feeling it won’t take very long at all.

Grunting, Marcus reaches up to grab the headboard so it doesn’t beat against the wall. Forgetting that he had removed the spacers so it didn’t the last time he had rearranged the room. There hadn’t been any need for them for a long time. Now he just moans as your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as he keeps hammering into you.

The little crescent moon marks your nails are sure to leave behind don't seem to phase him in the least. Every thrust feels like he's splitting you open for the first time all over again, spearing into you until your head is thrown back on his pillows and you have one hand braced again the headboard so you don't hit your head with the way he's fucking you into the mattress.

“J-Jesus.” He hisses. “K-know how many times I-I imagined this?” He demands, pushing the air out of your lungs with every harsh roll of his hips. “Nearly every f-fucking day.”

"Me -- oh fuck -- too." It's as much as you can do to string a few words together right now and you keen when he drives into you again.

Every time his cock hits the spongy walls of your cunt, you moan for him. Making him ramp up his pace to near frantic and all he can do is pant out your name between breaths.

It hits you like a freight train when that second orgasm comes, without any chance to give him warning or do anything except cry his name into the night, the sound reverberating off the walls with the wet slap on skin on skin as Marcus fucks you through your peak with your cunt clenching down on him like a velvet fist.

“F-fuck, good girl.” Marcus moans, closing his eyes and thanking the Gods that he managed to last long enough for you to be able to cum. “Shit, baby.” He covers your mouth once more for a desperate kiss as he rocks into you half a dozen more times before he plunges deep and pulses inside you, the liquid heat of his pleasure filling you up.

He swallows your moans as he empties himself inside you, and when both of you breathe again it's with brilliant smiles on your faces even though all eyes stay closed for a long moment afterward. When you do open your eyes, you press soft kisses along his jaw and cheeks, finally dusting a few on his lips. "Holy shit," you giggle quietly, chest still heaving as you pant.

His quiet laugh matches yours in breathlessness and he nods. “What you said.” He huffs, deciding the thing to do would be to collapse against you and tuck his head into your neck to snuggle and breathe you on.

You wrap your arms around him, legs going slack as you both just sink down into his mattress together as one. "Hell of a first date," you chuckle, kissing his shoulder where you've left marks behind.

“Mmmhmm.” His smirk is pleased and tired against your neck. “When I can move again, I’ll run you a bath and get us some water.” He murmurs.

"If we don't both fall asleep first." It wouldn't bother you for a second if that's what happened. Passing out after sex with Marcus still inside you is high on the fantasy list.

“How do you know what I’m trying not to do?” Marcus grumbles playfully at you, kissing your pulse softly.

"Cause it's what I'm trying not to do," you giggle against his skin. "That's a hell of a workout."

“Yes it was.” His softening cock twitches inside you and he giggles slightly, feeling euphoric. “I’m very glad you aren’t my student anymore.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 

My Masterlist!

[tiktowafel]

Headcanons for Neito Monoma?

yup here you go! tagging @fabpops1 because she also asked for Monoma headcanons

no coloring today because the one i made two years ago sucks and i don't feel like remaking it :'D honestly i feel like Horikoshi and I both half-assed his casual clothing sketch lol

him and his parents were all born in Japan but he has some relatives in Belgium, whom he really enjoys visiting. it's the main reason why he seems so interested in european culture (his profile page states he likes french cuisine and franco-belgian comics)

he can also speak french very well thanks to that

he's also fluent in english (though he has trouble understanding Pony sometimes - he's much better at reading and writing than he is at listening) and has a basic knowledge of several other languages. he doesn't really expect it to come handy at any point in the future, he just learns them because he finds it fun

besides that he also likes history, classic literature, theatre... yeah this guy is a huge humanities-leaning nerd and i don't accept criticism

nor do i accept the fact that he's supposed to be a bad student in canon?? like, he's so smart and also competitive, no way he isn't top of the class... he may not be as good in science and math as he is in japanese and history, but nothing an all-nighter can't fix

in middle school he was part of the drama and debate clubs. and while hero course students aren't supposed to join clubs because they should focus on hero work, he managed to argue his way into the same clubs in UA by saying that his theatrics and speeches are an important part of his hero persona. Kuroiro joined the drama club alongside him (didn't contribute to the argument at all, just nodded wisely every time Monoma presented a point)

class 1-B's culture festival performance being a stage play was actually his idea! it didn't really go the way he intended (he did NOT expect it to turn into a four-way crossover more ambitious than infinity war) but he greatly enjoyed performing in it anyway! maybe even too much

his knowledge of quirks rivals Midoriya's. he researches them a lot mostly to help his copy quirk but also out of genuine curiosity

he often helps his classmates with training their quirks and comes up with new techniques to try out. he's particularly good at it because he can actually try other people's quirks himself, which gives him a better understanding of how they function and what their limitations are

^ which is why i believe he'd make an awesome hero course teacher!! (in all might's role - i don't think making him anyone's homeroom teacher would be a good idea, he'd be just as biased towards his class as he is now lmao) it's definitely one of my favorite "future" headcanons

he praises his classmates' quirks a lot and says he considers them all great, but he does have preferences when it comes to copying them

his favorites are Yanagi's poltergeist (somewhat boring, but easy to understand and very versatile both in battle and everyday life), Tokage's lizard tail splitter (he almost died when he copied it for the first time because he barely managed to put his body back together before his quirk's time limit ran out, but that didn't stop him - he always found Tokage's quirk very fun and useful, so he put a lot of work into fully figuring it out and now he uses it pretty often), Shoda's twin impact (Monoma's physical strength.... leaves a lot to be desired, and the second impact always being significantly stronger than the first helps make up for it) and Kuroiro's black (you can move around very fast and it's fun :) )

quirks he does not like copying Honenuki's softening (fun, but quite difficult to control and avoiding collateral damage with such a destructive quirk is a pain in the ass. Honenuki understands that perfectly) and Shishida's beast (just... really not his thing lol)

for some reason i see a lot of people headcanon that he has pet ferrets, and you know what? i agree. he does seem like a ferret person

prefers smart clothing, a polo shirt is the most casual he'll go. he only ever wears tshirts for exercise (which he hates doing lol) and probably doesn't own a single hoodie

in general i think he has a good eye for elegant design... his dorm room is very stylish and nicely coordinated too. i think one of the light novels also describes it as "vaguely french" and yeah that fits

while he tries to keep his room neat and tidy on the outside, all his drawers and cabinets are horribly messy

he's that one kid who has like 17 different allergies and is completely useless if he forgets his meds on a spring day (spring is his least favorite season due to this. i think winter would be his fave)

luckily he is not allergic to dairy so he can eat as much stinky french cheese as he wants 👍

speaking of food i think he's a pretty good cook actually

prefers listening to older (and mostly foreign) music and is a huge snob about it

honestly he probably acts the same about movies and books too

arguing with people on the internet is one of his favorite ways to spend his free time. if there are no 1-A students around, you can always show off your impressive vocabulary by bullying random internet strangers with bad taste in movies!

almost everyone in 1-B considers him a friend despite his... anti-1a bullshit, because he's just really nice and helpful to people he likes + he's a great leader! however he's closest to Kuroiro (friendly drama king rivals! they're constantly arguing about dumb shit using the fanciest words they can think of and they're always trying to outperform each other in the drama club meetings they both attend, but they love each other trust me <3 also Monoma helps Kuroiro with studying because he sucks at school), Pony (when he's not trying to trick her into insulting 1-A he can be pretty helpful with japanese, he also likes listening to her talk about her home country), Honenuki (he's Pony's best friend, so you usually befriend them both at once, but Monoma thinks he's also interesting to talk to by himself) and Tetsutetsu (they don't share many interests but Monoma hates exercising so he has Tetsutetsu force him to do it. his positive energy certainly helps a lot)

ever since they got to know each other during their joint training fight, Monoma's been using 100% of his persuasion skills to convince Shinso to join 1-B instead of 1-A. Shinso is conflicted to say the least

aaand that's all i have for him! hope you enjoyed these!!

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

luxiem x reader || as fathers

a/n : YALL LIKE MY LUXIEM HCS MORE THAN MY OTHER ONES SO HERE U GO LMAO 😭 ill feed u guys some more luxiem content before mysta graduates [sobs louder]

SHU YAMINO

TYPICAL ASIAN DAD

but minus the yelling and stuff

hes just pretty damn strict but like he loves you all the same

if you get an A+ in maths, GOOD JOB, HE'LL TREAT YOU TO ICE CREAM [and maybe a magic show WWWW]

if you get a D-, he'll probably say something along the lines of : " try harder kiddo! you can get a higher mark next time! do you want me to help you study? "

he will definitely show up at all of your events and stuff like that to cheer you on

b a n a n a

omg he would accidentally get banned from ur school games bc he keeps helping you with his witchcraft stuff

LUCA KANESHIRO

OMG HES THE DAD THAT ALL YOUR CLASSMATES LOVE

hes the type to bring like the BEST FOOD during those potlucks ur school has

will panic if you bring math homework to him for help AJSHD

if he cant go to ur school events, HE WILL SO FIND A WAY TO GO, EVEN IF IT WAS JUST FOR A MOMENT

ur little sibling would deadass be a dog.

like no shit, this man would want a dog

and that dog is ur sibling

he and his mafia men would be the ones to raise you [FUCKING BONUS POINTS IF ONE OF HIS MEN IS A WOMAN AND SHE IS UR MOTHER FIGURE]

" oh, don't worry kid, you'll get it next time!! if you're ever feeling down, just know your dad thinks that you're pog! "

you dont know how to tell him that saying pog as a [however old he is] man is a little cringe, but you love him for it (IN A FAMILIAL WAY)

IKE EVELAND

a very chill dad when it comes to homework and grades

unless it was english

if you get a low score in english

THIS MANS IS RUTHLESS. HE WILL GET YOU TO READ. A LOT.

but if you get tired of it, he'll let it go

i feel like he'd be the parent who IS your teacher at school

oh boy, you should dread first day if he's your english teacher

" class, i'd like you all to know, im only fucking one of your mothers. " [all jokes LMAO he wouldnt embarrass you like that..... or would he?]

if you get a low score in any subjects or like if you flunk a test, he'll hug you and say:

" don't cry, you've made me proud already. i love you kiddo, and none of those test marks will change that. just tell me if you ever need help okay? i'm always happy to help you with those. "

MYSTA RIAS

BRO OMG HES THAT ONE DAD WITH INSANE SOCIAL MEDIA PRESENCE

SOMEHOW ALL YOUR FRIENDS FOLLOW HIM ON TWITTER??

the most laidback out of all the luxiem guys about homework

doesn't mind if you flunk it, as long as you did your hardest, it's a pass in his book

he cant physically help you with homework

its a british debuff /j

like he would stare at the pythagorean theorem and go 'uhm....'

HE WOULD HELP YOU WITH ALL YOUR FASHION DILEMMAS

there to listen to all the GODDAMN TEA!! like how dare jessica cheat on james like that with ryan??

dude is like the communal dad if any of ur friends dont have a father figure, he'll be there for them too

" oh you flunked your math test? it's alright!! you'll get it next time. they give you too much tests nowadays you guys are all probably burnt out... how about we watch a movie? your mind needs to destress. "

VOX AKUMA

SHAWTY HAS FLIRTED WITH YOUR TEACHERS MORE THAN ONCE

LIKE YOU GOTTA STOP HIM, HIS RIZZ IS TOO MUCH

also that one dad for some reason everyone likes

hes like pretty strict, but its because he wants the best for you

WOULD GET BANNED FROM TRYING TO GO TO UR SCHOOL GAMES BC HE GETS SO PISSED LMAO

" WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THEY GET A FOUL?? THEY DIDNT EVEN HIT THE OTHER KID??? "

hes the demon you and ur friends would try to summon at sleepovers

" kid, please, i love you and all, but dad needs to fucking rest. please stop summoning me. "

AND YOUR FRIENDS WOULD SCREAM WWWW

anyways, hes pretty damn smart so hes gotchu covered when it comes to homework help

unless it was history.

history pisses the fuck out of this ancient man.

he will rant about how incorrect the history books are and you'll get nowhere with homework

" oh, darling, it's alright. i'm not disappointed in you and i won't be when it comes to homework. i get it, sometimes it's hard and you don't understand it, but that's when you ask for help, alright? i won't ever shame you for asking me for help. "

a/n : i hope yall r fed this took me 30 minutes to shit out and clean up also i think its obvious whos my favourite in luxiem LMAOO

[simplysmilingdrew]

You're in a big trouble!

BNHA tickle fic

Lee: Kaminari

Lers: Mina and Jirou

A/N: This fic was really hard to write. I wanted to write something important, about friendship, fears that everyone can experience in a way or another, and seeing the positive sides of ourselves, because a mistake we often make is to underestimate ourselves. Hope that you will like it. English is not my first language so, if you find some mistakes, please tell me and I will correct!!

“Hero too, I am a hero too! My heart is set and I won’t back down!”

The song had been echoing in Kaminari's ears for at least half an hour.

He was relaxing on the couch of the common room with headphones on, listening to that beautiful song.

It reminded him how much fun they had at the school festival; how much they had worked hard to make an unforgettable show; how beautiful Kyoka's voice was…

Yes, he had a crush on the Hearing Hero… but he had never dared to take a step forward in this... after all, his Quirk short circuits and bad grades did not help him with the self-esteem.

He didn't realize he was also humming, but he felt perfectly a touch on his stomach. Kaminari jumped up, his eyes widening: “Hey Mina! What are you doing?”

“Hehehe, I was right! Someone was singing our song.”

Kaminari sat cross-legged: “Was I singing? Didn't notice, sorry. "

Mina smiled: “You must really like it a lot, since you always listen to it. Or should I say… you like Jirou's voice? ”and she winked at him.

Kaminari blushed instantly: “Uuh? N-no no, what are you saying? I simply wanted to relax and this song helps me-”

“Because Jirou is the singer, maybe?” Mina insisted from behind the couch.

Kaminari’s face turned even more red and tried to cover it with his arms: “W-what are you saying? It's just that, uh… it's a special song for me, it reminds me about something we've done all together. Why do you say I like Jirou?”

Mina's black eyes lit up: “Ah-ha!! I said you liked her voice, not that you liked HER…”

Dammit. Kaminari turned purple, closed his face between his legs and wished only to sink completely into the couch and disappear among the cushions. Mina giggled and sat across from him: “Come on, Jemmingway! Just kidding. I didn't mean to embarrass you, but it's pretty obvious that you like Jirou. You’re not that good at hiding your feelings.”

Kaminari's tomato-colored face emerged from his knees: “What? What do you mean with obvious? Did she notice it? Who else knows? Oh my God, I'm screwed!!! "

“Woah there, Sparky! Calm down!! Don't freak out! We of the Squad have noticed it, I am sure of this because we were together! But for Jirou, I don't think so and trust me when I say that, if she knows, we didn't tell her anything. Cross my heart.”

Poor Kami tried to go back to the closest thing that we could call “a state of calm” and, still with his hands in his hair, asked again: “What do you mean with obvious?”

“Well, your eyes light up when you look at Jirou or you talk to her; when she laughs, you laugh with her; you listen to her song as many times as Bankugou screams 'die', so...”

Kaminari let out a chuckle: “Well... you see... you're not wrong... but, I...”

Mina pushed his hair out of his eyes: “Come on, shy one. If you want, you can tell me everything, buddy.” she said imitating his pose.

Kaminari rolled his eyes, made an embarrassed expression, scratched his head and smiled: “Actually, it's true… I do have a crush on Jirou. But I'm afraid to tell her... I'm only capable of making a fool of myselself, I always fail tests and I certainly don't have to remind you of my 'Wee'. And she is… so cute, smart, she has a beautiful voice and I love to see her smile. But... I don't think I'm a guy who she might be interested in…”

Mina sighed: “If we are talking about grades, remember that you have number 19 of the class in front of you. I also fail tests, but I’m not the grade that the teacher writes on the paper, and same goes for you. I am the most agile of the class and I have taught everyone how to dance for the Festival. Even to Iida, Midoriya and Aoyama with their ‘trunk like dancing style’. You're good at mid-range combat and your Quirk is great, both for simply charging batteries, or for saving lives as a defibrillator, if you think about it for a sec.” Mina said.

Kaminari's expression totally changed: “Trust me, if Jirou didn't really like you, she wouldn't even helped you with the guitar lessons. Also... do you want to know a secret?!” Mina whispered.

Kaminari put the ear closer. Mina covered the space between his ear and her lips with one hand: “Hehehe! Jirou sometimes stares at you and smiles. I've noticed this from the Festival!”

Kaminari felt his heart locked in his throat and his mouth dropped open: “What?! Are you serious? No I-I've never noticed!” his face turned again red as a tomato and he covered it with his hands.

She giggled and ruffled his hair: “That's a good thing. I mean, she totally likes you and maybe feeling something for you, but if you didn’t notice her eyes on you, my dear, we have to borrow a pair of glasses from Iida. You. Must. WAKE. UP. AND. ACT!!"

With each word, Mina poked Kaminari's tummy, making him laugh. Then she started to poke him in various spots, all over his torso and under his neck: “Did you understand? You have to move! Come on! Talk to her! Or at least give her a little present, like the choker you gave her after I-Iland. That is now fully integrated in her Hero costume, hehehe!”

Kaminari could not answer back in any way with Mina who kept her attack on every single weak spot: “Hahaha! Stop it Mina! I Gah-hahaha, I got it!”

“Hehehe! You're in a big trouble, Kaminari!” Mina yelled, and she threw herself at him and then tickled him on his hips and sides. Kaminari burst into laughter, throwing himself back onto the couch and arching his back.

“Nonono! Tickle naaahahahaha!!!”

When Mina went for the armpits, he shrieked and let out electric shocks that made his hair stand. Mina laughed with him, surprised by the reaction.

“Hahaha!!! Kaminari, what the hehahaha! What the hell did you do? Your hair!"

“Minahahaha! Plehehehease, dohohohon’t!” he pleaded, trembling.

“Hehehe! I'm sorry, but it's too funny!” and she began to move her fingers so delicately that it was like the touch of a ghost.

Kaminari instinctively closed himself like a hedgehog, and then stretched his legs in the air, kicking a little: "Hahaha! Oh gohohohosh! Minahahahaha!"

“Yes, that’s my name and I know you like light tickles and you're so cute when you giggle like that! Oh! Hey, I know! How about, you ask her for a date at the park? Buy a new pair of airpods for her birthday? Or a box of chocolates for Valentine's Day? Simple ideas that would be perfect!" she exclaimed, still gently tickling him.

“What-hahaha!? Ihihihi, I’m naaahahaha brahahahave enough tohoho ahahahask! I alwahahays froze and I wohohohould panic!" and he began to shake his head frantically from side to side.

Mina stopped instantly.

Kaminari, completely surprised, tried to catch his breath and raised his head to look at her. Mina was staring at him with a dull look.

Kaminari began to worry: “W-what's wrong? Why did you stop so suddenly?”

She pouted and pointed her finger at his nose: “Denki 'Chargebolt' Kaminari! Do you realize what you just said?”

After such a sentence, Kaminari's concern turned into terror: “You faced the USJ Villains. You helped rescue the I-Island hostages. You saved Bakugou and Kirishima from the Shiketsu student. You protected Midoriya and Bakugou from Nine's lightning attack. You played the guitar in front of the whole school and you are one of the few who survived after pulling a prank on Bakugou! Seriously… do you really think that you're not brave enough?”

Kaminari was stunned. Actually, she was right. He wasn't totally a coward, but...

“Mina… thank you for your words. I understand what you mean but... it's different and more complicated...”

Mina pressed her finger against his nose: “Don't you dare contradict me! You ARE brave! Maybe you don't feel ready to talk to Jirou yet, but underestimate yourself, talking only about your failures and defects is wrong! I mean it, never humiliate yourself like this again! Did you hear me?!”

Maybe Mina's reaction was too exaggerated, maybe she was taking the argument too seriously, but looking at Kaminari, she remembered that day... a couple of years ago, when Kirishima apologized for not being able to intervene when the giant Villain threatened her and the other classmates.

For a moment she saw their faces overlap... with the same incredulous expression...

Maybe... those were the words she hadn't been able to say that day ...

The girl took a deep breath and in a serious tone she said: “Now, in the view of the facts and this terrible declaration, I Mina 'Pinky' Ashido, also known as 'Raccoon eyes', I sentence you to the maximum sentence!" and she grabbed his knee as hard as she could: “A minute of tickling in your worst spot!”

Kaminari's eyes became two headlights and he grabbed her arms: “WHAT!? No, you can't do it!”

“Any objections or complaints will not be tolerated!” she said completely serious.

Kaminari started to shake, but also giggling: “M-Mina wait! I beg you! I take back what I said, I swear! I'll buy you all the packages of your favorite candies at the market and even a case of that soda you love! But please don't! I could die here!”

“What did you do so bad, Kami?"

Mina and Kaminari gasped at the sound of the familiar new voice coming onto the scene. Jirou's voice.

The girl had leaned on the back of the couch and she was watching the scene with curiosity: “So? May I know what's going on? Your screams Kaminari could be heard from outside the dorm.”

Kaminari and Mina met their eyes for a second: Mina narrowed her gaze and gave him a little smile; Kaminari was even more frightened.

“Dear Jirou, you came here just in time...”

Kaminari threw himself at her, fearing the worst, in a desperate attempt to protect the secret: “Nononono! Mina don't do it!”

In response, she gently scratched her fingers under his knee and he instantly fell backwards, letting out a laugh.

Jirou became even more incredulous: “What the hell...”

“Now I'll explain everything.” Mina said: “Our dear Pikachu...”

Oh no! Pleasepleaseplease ~

“Practically humiliated himself, talking a lot of nonsense, and this is unacceptable!”

“…What!?” Kami and Jirou asked in unison.

Mina continued, in a serious tone of voice, but with an amused expression: “That's right! He dared to say that he is a good for nothing, that he only makes a fool of himself and he considers himself a coward! He didn't want to hear reasons, despite my attempts to make him understand the nonsense he was saying and I got angry!”

Jiro turned to look at Kaminari: “Dang Denks, what the hell is going through your head? Are you still under the effect of a short circuit by chance?”

He was more incredulous than before, with his mouth wide open trying to formulate any sentence, without success. A marble statue. Not even Aizawa's angry look ever reduced him in that state.

Jirou continued: “Are you convinced of what you said? No wonder that Mina wants to punish you. None of us have ever thought of you as weak or a coward. Not even Bakugou, trust me.”

Kaminari raised an eyebrow: “Dunce face?”

Mina rolled her eyes: “That doesn't count. It's just Bakugou, you know him. We are all nothing but 'extras', and then you can find him always teaming up with you and Kiri.”

Jirou nodded: “Yes indeed. And for the nicknames, I don't know what’s worse. He, who keeps calling us with those terrible nicknames, or us who still answer to him when he calls us using 'em?”

“Pfft-hahaha!” All the three of ‘em burst out laughing.

“Hehe, better not find out. In any case, Mina is right. It's totally uncool AND unmanly humiliating yourself like this, sooo...” Jirou's gaze shifted to Mina: “What is the penalty for this heinous crime, Your Honor?”

Kaminari began to tremble again: he had forgotten that Mina was holding his knee hostage.

“Well... at first I thought that tickling his worst post for a minute was a fitting one, but...”

Kaminari knew that troubles were coming, looking at Mina’s smile.

“… In all my magnanimity, I decided to halve the length of my sentence… BUT Jiro will help me, by tickling the other knee! Maybe two of us will get a better result, hehehe!”

Kaminari's face, if possible, took a bluish tone: “W-what!?” it came out like a yelp.

“Um, interesting... Fair enough. I'm in!” Jiro answered, quickly grabbing Kami's knee from behind the couch.

Kaminari's heart stopped for a second and spoke with a trembling voice: “Waitwaitwait! W-wait! Wait girls, time out, please... I-I know there's no way to stop you… but please... Go easy on me… ” more than the tickle, now it was Jirou's presence that frightened and embarrassed him.

He knew his reactions very well, and they were the reason why he was everyone's favorite prey in the class, along with Midoriya. He didn't mind having tickle fights with his classmates, sometimes it even happened with Uraraka and Hagakure… but Jirou!?

They had barely touched each other, and now he was in the position of being tickled in his worst spot by her. Oh dear!!

Mina stroked his knee: “Hey hey, don't worry! It's just a game and only thirty seconds, Denks. I promise. Not one more. And we absolutely won’t be ro-OH! Right! Maybe you don't know it Jirou, but Kami is terribly ticklish under his knees. He can handle only light tickles. Be careful to never be rough, or he could even feel pain. That’s why we hardly tickle him there.”

“Ohmygosh, really? I didn't know. I'll be gentle Kami, promised. Like as if I'm playing my… electric guitar, hehe! Who knows what sound will come out.” she asked, sticking her tongue out for the joke.

Kaminari looked at both the girls, trying in vain to hide an embarrassed smile. He closed his eyes with his hands and lay down on the couch, moaning in protest: “...two against one is not faaair...”

“For this time, just deal with it Sparky!” and the torture began.

Kaminari immediately burst out laughing, holding his belly with his arms and trying with all his strength not to kick so as not to hit the girls, but they had grabbed him well and, as promised, they were giving him only light tickles.

Mina sneered: “Come on, Kami, you can do it! 5 seconds... 6... 17... 78... 45...”

Kaminari's laugh took an octave higher: “MINAAAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! DOHOHOHOHN'T DO THAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“I should play this guitar more often! It has a really nice sound, especially the high notes!” Jirou laughed.

Kaminari began to weep like a waterfall but, despite the torture, he was really enjoying all of it and, even if it was only for a moment, he could see Jirou's amused expression and smile, and it warmed his heart.

Her touch, if possible, was even more effective than Mina's: light and delicate, as if she were really plucking the strings of the guitar.

“… 29 aaaaand 30! Hands up Jirou!” Mina exclaimed triumphantly and they both released Kaminari's knees. Red as Kirishima's hair, he closed himself sideways, trying to catch his breath amid the laughter and the tickly feeling still all over him.

“Are you okay, Denks?” Jiro and Mina asked, massaging his shoulders and back.

In response, he rolled over on his back ... and raised his thumbs to the sky: “Weee!”

“Pfft-hahaha! Yes, he’s fine!” they both laughed.

"Hehehe... I-I am fihihihine... thahahanks for nehehever being rough on me...”

Mina bent down to hug him: “What are you saying, you silly! We love you! We would never hurt you!”

Jirou got behind him and ruffled his hair: “But that's obvious, Jemmingway!”

Mina then whispered in his ear: “... and I would never have dared to reveal your secret...”

Kaminari looked at his friends and smiled: “Heh… thanks girls. For everythig.”

Jirou poked his neck with her earphone jacks: “Come on, tell us the truth. In the end you were having fun, am I wrong!?”

He chuckled: “Ohohokay okahahay! You are rihihihight!” and he took her jacks to stop her.

“Of course he enjoyed it. Although most of the time he is tortured by boys, he too manages to win many fights. His Quirk is terribly effective.”

Kaminari froze... with an interesting idea in his mind: “My Ladies of the Court of Justice, may I make a statement?”

“Permission granted. What is it about?” Mina asked smiling.

Kaminari hid his eyes behind his hair: “I would like to show you that lesson is learned. And I think...” he gave some very slight shocks on Jirou's earphone jacks: “... that I have found the right way.”

Jirou jumped back, laughing at the funny sensation that had expanded throughout her body and then stopped, bringing out a worried but also amused expression.

“...What could be braver than me facing both of you, after your torture?” Kaminari asked, letting out small shocks from his hands.

Mina immediately realized what was happening and she slowly backed away: “Kami, I know what you have in mind, but your Quirk-”

“Thirty seconds. In all my magnanimity, the penalty will be thirty seconds for each of you, I promise. But I’m taking the liberty of using my Quirk, since I am alone... And the first one I catch, will have to help me taking on the second one. Does it sounds fair to you?”

The girls looked at each other, sharing the same amused look: “Fair enough, Sparky. But...”

Mina threw a pillow straight in Kaminari's face, who ended up falling on the couch, laughing.

“You have to catch us first! Run for it Jirou!”

[ask-ikevamp-faust]

Faust!!! You speaking spanish really surprised me! I'm really happy when I discover sides like this from you! You for sure have a great person as a teacher taking good care of you and I really don't expect less from someone as smart as you. That was very very sweet, thank you! 🩷 Still, I'm trying my best to write in english to make things comfortable.

I've been really tired this days but reading your words the other day gimme such a energy boost! I was less tired in a instant! It really put me in such high spirits even if everything feels so awful lately.

I'm working the most dreadful job ever, I wish I could do everything but what I'm doing right now. I wish I was doing something more trivial like cleaning houses, everything to escape, I could be cleaning the castle where you live, I wonder how much the wrinkle old bat would pay for dusting off the whole place (haha).

Such delusions I have. I do respect people who do domestic labor, they deserve more recognition and to be payed more!

I think a lot of my bitterness comes from me spending already 10-12 hours in the office, so I really have very limited time between the week for myself. When I take my time to write back to people, I'm giving them part of the little time I have. I think how every person's time is precious.

I think a lot about this woman that I really like who talks a lot about otome games and I really like how she always takes her time to reply to every single person who leaves a comment or ask a question and she says is because if someone is taking their time and effort to leave some words, the least she can do is doing the same.

TBH I did over did the other day at work and stayed very late, but just because I wanted to have some peace of mind today and I leave work early. I had to take a bath because everyone was sweaty and stinky in the bus I took and It was packed so I was feeling pretty gross. Right now I'm just writing before going to bed.

There was a beautiful white full moon while walking at home the other day and today there was a golden moon slowly rinsing to the sky.

Really considering making a "faustian bargain" just so you're here with me (doesn't sound that crazy if I look for a way) I would love to have a date, either to walk at the beach or a tour in your secret lab with the corpses you have there, both sound absolutely delightful to me ✨

I think is very sweet you're taking word from your admi to tone it down, but I do think one of the things I love about you is the extremes of your personality, I think it makes a perfect balance of you, you can be very rough and harsh and yet very soft and kind. I think there were already some times in past replies when I was the gremlin to you and you were trying to be annoying but I expect as much of you.

Sleeping is also very unpleasant to me lately, I wish at least one sweet dream of you and less nightmares at night, I don't know what I have to do to channel those positive ideas. I really wish you a very cosy oversleeping to you ☺️ I just wanted to write back as soon as posible 🩷

– @crowmero

Don’t praise my admin. It's undeserved, I had to find resources on my own. She claims it’s unfair if any of us in the castle speak her second language since the rest of us speak languages she doesn’t understand. You may continue to write in English or switch between both languages, I’m fine either way. If it serves as good English practice for you then who am I to deprive you of it.

I doubt Vlad would pay at all when the overly devoted Charles is here doing everything. Try convincing Charles to work less around here, maybe you’ll open an opportunity for yourself. Of course if the castle is too big, you can always become my employee; my lab always needs to be cleaned. 

If you don't mind sharing, why did you choose your current job and what’s keeping you there? If it’s causing you so much distress you should find something else. It could potentially harm your overall well-being in the long run if you continue putting such stress on yourself. 

It’s good to see that there are still people in this time who reciprocate and show appreciation for people’s time, like this woman you mentioned. I agree with this sentiment, time is precious. That may sound odd coming from a vampire but in my line of work, I’ve seen many people run out of time for several reasons. Life and time are extremely precious.

Mmmm, it’s difficult to punish you for staying extra at work when you leave early the next day. I suppose your decision deserves praise.

Is that truly what you desire? To spend time with me… Hmm I’ll have to add kidnapping you on my list, right next to my grave digging.

Excellent, this means my admin can’t try to scold me for being a “gremlin”. Now then, don’t be shocked if you receive the extremes of my personality from now on. And yes, I recall our other replies, such fun banter. I expect more of it from you, don’t disappoint me.

You’re strange, most people would consider it a nightmare if I appeared in their dreams. However, if you're seriously trying, they say that if you think about something before falling asleep, you’ll dream about whatever you were thinking about. Try thinking about me before sleeping, find pictures of me as well if it helps with immersion. I’d like to know if this method works, so make sure you share the results of this experiment with me.

By the way, @crowmero there's no need to reply to me as soon as possible. I'm not going anywhere, I'm always here; even at the most random hours because my sleep schedule does not exist.

[dreamyeyedrose]

"Letters, after the bestie"

To my mother,

Have you figured out how little you've seen of me until now? Do you realize how little you see, even still?

To my father,

Mom keeps saying you've changed. Have you really? I still hear the kitchen floor clattering of broken glass and cutting words every time I see you.

To my dearest and only elder sister,

Wasn't life so much easier when you had an assigned enemy? How are things now, though? We haven't had a real conversation in almost a decade, you know. I'm dying to know how you are, and lucky for you it'll kill me all the same.

To the playground peanut gallery,

I'm glad to have been the outgroup, to encourage your ingroup bonding. It's so cute when children have their little friend groups. Do you still giggle and laugh as much as you did then? It's weird how I smile and laugh more often now, compared to back then.

To the CPS officer that should've known better,

You were right, everything is more okay now, after I've gotten up, and dusted myself off. But what you thought was baking soda, I've always known was powdered plutonium. Let's pretend this powerful third eye has always been here, I have a feeling it'll help you sleep better. At least I'm one of the ones that are doing better. Are you?

To my eighth grade Honors English teacher,

The thing about the cool quirky Uncle-Iroh-core humanities teacher in the movies is that they're actually smart, and they actually care. And, just saying, if the pick-me that reads instead of having friends tries to communicate in the way those main characters "accidentally" alert the right adult to certain things. They're able to take the hint, and not instead tell Goliath to burn down any forest David could source wood from. You stupid cunt.

To my old coworkers,

I promise you I'm mentally ill. No, I know you think it's "maybe I just think that because I don't drink coffee." That's the masking. And my cotton candy energy drinks are more my brand anyways. Y'all should know this, since you all used to joke about it at least once a week.

Dear me,

We did, eventually, do one even better than "proving them all wrong." We get to keep proving ourselves right. I wish I could've told you about it sooner. But I promise to keep you updated and take pictures the rest of our life.

To all the people I've loved more than myself:

I have a new favorite in town.

He's always been better than you.

And I guarantee you he loves just me more than all the love you can ever comprehend. And the best part is that I am not the only love his heart knows. Too bad the mirror gets in between our lips.

[decent0distraction]

Does anyone else watch those teacher skit videos on TikTok by SquireHaligast I think his name is?

Well, if you do, here’s my head canons on the characters, if you care. I might add drawings later if I’m feeling brave, but we’ll see.

To begin, we have Ethan.

Ethan is male, he/him. He has an average group of friends who do average teen things. I wouldn’t say he’s really in any clubs or sports, since he canonically is jaded and apathetic. He slacked off a bit his first two years of high school. Now a junior taking a senior class (which is canon), he wants to be done with school but he isn’t sure where he wants to go with his life.

During the conversation he and Haligast have in the theme episode (the one where Ethan is bored and can’t focus and the assignment is to read a short paragraph and identify the theme), Ethan mocks Haligast by looking through the classifieds. Haligast suggests he should be an English teacher, telling him that he’ll have be able to identify theme though. This gets Ethan to focus.

Based on that, my headcanon is that Ethan considers becoming a teacher but instead goes on to be a high school counselor instead. He understands what’s it like to be a lost kid, laughing at everything until you wake up one morning and you don’t get the joke anymore. Or maybe you just can’t, because you’re too tired; too bored.

Next up is Sam. I wasn’t sure about their gender at first, but someone said they sound like Brennan Lee Mulligan and after rewatching the “New assigned seats game” episode and the episode where Sam is “upset” about being in Haligast’s class again, here’s what I came up with.

Sam, they/him, chronically intelligent to the point that they don’t see the point in not being in control, because if it were up to these idiots he would never admit he loved, everything would go down like a lead balloon. In the episode where Sam helps Ethan figure out what score he needs on the next assignment, Sam uses language and vocab associated with Dungeons and Dragons. A big part of my headcanon is that Sam not only hosts DND games with his friends, but he convinced Haligast to host the DnD club at the school when he was only a freshman.

Sam seems to have a love/hate relationship with Ethan. Ethan isn’t nearly as smart as Sam, but Ethan is much more flexible. Like Ethan, Sam is a junior taking a senior class. But while Ethan had to request the harder class and make up in summer school for skipping Junior Lit, Sam got placed in class due to exceptional grades. I like think that they were friends maybe in the 8th grade or at some point, but as Sam became more and more ahead of the curb, Ethan was further left behind. As juniors, they still hang out in class, but they don’t sit together at lunch and you’ll never catch Ethan in DnD club or Sam at whatever sports game Ethan is pretending to care about.

John! My favorite character, honestly. He/him, John has always been quiet. Everyone is used to it. They don’t expect him to speak, so when he finally does (like in the pep assembly episode), they’re taken aback.

But John knows who he is and he cares about his friends and his grades. When he gets a taste of being the teacher, of being someone that important, he realizes that he wants to be seen. He just needed the right stage. He goes on to be a teacher (an English teacher obviously)

The kid in the t shirt. We don’t know their name. We just know that they’re usually the mediator between Sam and Ethan. In the transfer from 3rd period episode, they come off as petty and almost resentful of the kids named from 3rd period, eyeing Alex when they come in.

Until we have a name, my headcanon is that this is the first official girl of the group. I’ve been calling her Emily in my notes, I don’t know why.

But Emily, she/her, doesn’t get involved unless it directly concerns her. In the “Stalemate, Almost” episode where the kids argue over a game, movie, or talking, she tries to direct them to one thing, which prompts Sam to ask if she’ll be boring forever or if she’ll get a personality for Christmas.

Emily is intelligent, but she can disengage unlike Sam. She’s relaxed like Ethan, but she can go toe to toe with Sam. I don’t think we’ve seen her interact with John, but we get two filler characters in “Stalemate, Almost”. One is wearing a long sleeved black shirt and the other is in a grey t shirt. Ethan bargains with the kid in the long sleeved black shirt, and Emily backs him up. Grey t shirt kid counter argues and Emily keeps it up, defending her stance with the other movie people.

Overall, Emily is a chameleon, but she’s not afraid to stand by her friends and her opinions. I definitely think she and Sam are academic rivals.

Alex, the transfer kid, they/her. I choose to believe that she and John are friends, given how they immediately sit next to him and talk about how they’re excited to be in the class.

Alex is from 3rd period, which is described as calmer by their own teacher. I think that means that Alex is hardworking, friendly, and keeps to herself. She’s polite to the others when she walks in, but she directly speaks to John. She greets Sam, who doesn’t actually say hi to her. My headcanon is that she was invited to Sam’s dnd club by a friend or boyfriend/girlfriend and Sam is simply threatened by her.

Alex plays themself off to not be as intelligent as she actually is, claiming she doesn’t know what the counselor meant when they said they had to “even things out”. She comes off as fidgety and nervous, but she’s better at conversation and settling in than John is.

That’s all I have so far. I think it’s kind of weird that I’m making headcanons for these videos, but it’s my comfort show (I know it’s not a show, shut up). Don’t overthink any of this. It’s just for fun.

[hxhhasmysoul]

Sometimes I wonder how does mischaracterization happen within a fandom.

It seems like it always happens in any fandom. Especially towards characters who are more morally gray or nuanced characters being flatten to oversimplified characterization.

I wonder if it has to do with the general audience of a fandom. Such as if the fandom have more young fans within it and such. Or it’s just an increasing trend of people not having very good analytical abilities when it comes to media literacy.

it's probably a little bit of everything.

i mean reading comprehension is said to go down. i haven't looked up any research so idk if this is an actual confirmed trend. but when i tutored kids english i found out that teachers take reading comprehension for granted, both in my native tongue and in english. for whatever reason adults, including teachers who should know better, think that everyone can acquire reading comprehension through just being told to read at home and to do some true/false or single choice exercise with questions for the text. an exercise that is checked by asking 5 random people at school what the answers are and correcting them if they have it wrong without explaining why they had it wrong. and just moving on.

parents often also don't talk with children about issues, they don't point out manipulative tactics, maybe because they don't notice them themselves. i mean adults out here in social media are as bad as the younger people.

when it comes to mischaracterisation there's a lot of taking something at face value. like with gojou.

he says he cares about the youth. but throughout the manga you can clearly see that maybe he believes that he cares but his actions do not support that at all. or with yuuji who people just shove into the silly protag trope because he's not great at sciences but he actually doesn't struggle at school and he's very emotionally intelligent and a great problem solver.

in both cases it's for whatever reason not feeling the cognitive dissonance when parts of the text do not seem to add up and kinda defaulting towards the lazier option.

it might be also due to oversaturation with available stuff. people have noticed that fandom moves on very fast. people consume one thing after another instead of enjoying them. i purposefully don't engage with too many things because i just can't process them. and with some stuff i engage on a surface level but then i don't go into fandoms and spew my casual opinions.

and this is another problem that i've mentioned before. there's a feedback loop between creating an image of oneself on social media and spewing opinions on the next hot thing fast, but also mixing into it moral posturing. some people just need the media they enjoy and the characters they like to be morally pure and will twist themselves into rhetorical pretzels to argue that purity.

and since there's too much of everything people turn to others for commentary, influences on tiktok, youtube, twitter, reddit and here. learn their opinions and internalise them because often these people talk with conviction even if they are grifters and liars. and like i also like to listen to people talk about fandom stuff when i play the sims but when i write my opinions i try to go back to the text and not just repeat what others have said.

this is what most of the "gon's a monster" crowd is about. they repeat a cold take that seems smart because it often abuses academic language to give itself the air of depth and truth.

like it's a complex issue and these surely aren't all contributing factors.

but it is disheartening, especially when people will blatantly argue against the text when presented with it.

[birchbees]

Stephen King really shines in his novellas. He can get a little long-winded and self-inserty in his books...looking at you, Bag of Bones, with your middle aged author who's still hot enough to get with the 20- or 30-somethin chick... Anyway

(this is a long one and it's not really informative, I just wax on for a while, hence the readmore)

So a few weeks ago we watched Stand by Me, which I'd never seen before. It definitely gives the lingering haunting feeling of a King novel where you sit in silence for a bit and feel a little bit sick to your stomach, but in a way that makes you admire the quality of the writing for evoking those feelings. Wanted to read the source material, borrowed the ebook collection of short stories, Different Seasons, that contains "The Body." Turns out I read it before in high school (I was just starting my King kick and my 11th grade English teacher had a copy on her shelf. I always finished my classwork ahead of time, so...)

First story: Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption. Felt deeply. Admired greatly. Appreciated it even more than I did when I was 16 (obviously). Everyone should read it.

But the second story. Apt Pupil.

The details from my high school reading of it were not coming back to me as readily as Shawshank's did. I remembered the gist: smart kid with a mean streak recognizes his elderly neighbor as a former Nazi officer in disguise, blackmails him into revealing the grisly details of the concentration camp in a kind of morbid curiosity and moral punishment to the old man. What I did not remember, or maybe what I didn't realize as a teenager, was the absolute depravity and the increasingly desperate grasp with which the main character held onto his facade during the years he spent with the Nazi. The lies he told that grew more elaborate until he fell through them. The tenterhooks that finally tore through his restraint when he realizes he has no chance of claiming innocence. Evil begetting evil.

The final line of the story is still reverberating in my chest.

[achaiapelides]

Kit's diary

Chapter 4

Dear Ty,

today was kind of a bummer. First I had physics with an old teacher, who ironically is called Mr. Young. While he is very nice and lovely, he can absolutely not explain. It's like he's super smart, but doesn't understand that we're not, and explains the stuff way too complicated. First I thought I'm just stupid, but then I looked around and the other students looked the same way I did, like they're just listening to him speaking Chinese or something and don't understand Chinese. You would probably understand him though.

Anyway, after physics, I had social studies, which sounds very interesting, but apparently includes economics. It. Is. So. Boring. And the teacher doesn't make it better. He's also very boring. The only thing keeping me from falling asleep was my stomach, which demanded lunch. In retrospect, this is quite a clever placement of the lessons, so the students don't fall asleep.

After lunch we had sport. They call it physical education here. I bet they just wanted it to sound more fancy, but it sounds more like a torturing device. And torture it was. You'd think that after all those training sessions with both Jem and Tessa I'd have a better condition. But no, I still sound like an overweight grandpa with asthma when I run for more than 20 feet. No shaming for the overweight grandpa though, it's just, a Shadowhunter in training should NOT sound like that. That's quite concerning. After sport (I refuse to call it PE) I had a short break and then geography, which surprisingly wasn't that bad. The teacher is a bit boring, but the topic is very interesting. We're talking about volcanoes. After that I finally went home. I'm actually excited about tomorrow though, we have English and History again.

Also I thought about this diary last night and I think that I might give it to you if we ever make up again. No when we make up. Might take a bit longer, but as much as it hurts, being without you hurts more. Also, not wanting to sound too depressing, but as a Shadowhunter you're quite in danger and so am I. I don't want anything to happen to either of us before we made up. No, that sounds weird. I don't want anything to happen to either of us or anyone else ever, but realistically speaking, the possibility of that isn't as low as I would like it to be. And I neither want you to die thinking that I hate you or me dying to leave you alone, thinking the same. At least let us have the chance to be happy. Even if it's just for a short time. So I want to see you again, when we're both ready. And I want you to read this someday. Because I want you to know how I feel about you. And we're both quite bad with spoken words, so I guess, reading this might make it easier for me to express and for you to understand how I feel about you the way I actually mean it. So, if you're reading this right now, a few months, or maybe years in the future, I just want you to know, I love you Tiberius Blackthorn. So much, you won't even able to imagine that. As for now, I hope you're as happy and healthy as you can be in this situation (you know, the Livvy stuff).

I love you so much Ty.

Yours forever and always,

Kit

Happy December 18th, everyone!

[randomkposts]

Can you do a hesdcanon on fem mello, matt, and Near? You can take your time!

K:- thank you for your patience. It can take a bit to find a good time to brainstorm between life and living in diffrent timezones.

E:- I kept thinking at some point in childhood Roger has to get Mello out of juvie.There are very specific rules they aren't allowed to do anymore and that mostly on Mello and Matt....and Near.

K:- Eclipse, that's not a surprise. The real question is what did he get caught doing. 

E:-Its easier to cross off what have they not

K:-No, I think Mello got away doing a lot of things she shouldn't have. Because to report it, the reporter would have to admit it was a kid and successfully persuade them. Until Mello was caught in the act, and built a rep. 

E:-An adults bruised ego tends to help so much getting out of trouble. I also feel like even if they are geniuses they'll occasionally do dumb kid things. 

K:-And Mello is testing how much he can get away with by explaining it as L training. 

E:-Someone stuck that fork in that plug in K, and I bet it's Matt

K:-No bet...Hmm, I do think Mello would do it deliberately for Fire. 

E:-"Mello how are you even committing tax fraud you're barely 12"

Mello is an arsonist canon!

Lol. Blame everything on L training and L would probably approve!

K:-Wheres the counter evidence. 

E:-L: Well it is handy

Roger: Please stop encouraging them

L: .....tax fraud is literal childs play, Roger-

K:- Roger demands a pay raise and a vacation. He's unsure about the vacation. Should he let L have unsupervised access to children? Watari is an enabler. So hes no help. 

E:-Roger:"....Watari can control L......I hope"

Roger isn't even out of the driveway , K. Its sad he's the boss ahahah. Wait do they have nannies?

K:-I have no clue

E:-Who's taking care of the literal kids? Who are even their teachers? God to get hired there must be good fucking pay. 

K:-I know something about Japanese orphanages, nothing recent about English ones, and 0 about Orphanages dedicated to raising Batman. 

E:-Dealing with actual smart asses who can make anything out of literal glue and glitter. 

Accurate

I barely know about the American system but more about Japanese ruling of custody affairs than orphanage. 

K:-Presumably there are teachers to counter the usual unfortunate reality of orphans being behind in their schooling for a variety of reasons. 

E:- I hope so. Looks like we gotta make OCs for death note at some point. 

K:-And presumably there are people in other parts of the system to flag kids who would have potential there. I would expect that given its training batmans, there are a lot of teachers and Tutors, and probably caretakers. 

E:-This is starting to sound like human 🚥

K:-Like Watari and Rodger deal with L-I will eat every dessert I come across- and probably shared a look, and hired someones to teach the next generation proper nutrition. 

E:-Mini batmans to unleash on the whole world

K:-Mello is not following it as he broke away to join the mafia, and so might as well eat chocolate. 

E:-After all from what anime and comics show us nothing more terrifying than an avenging motivated orphan. I feel like Mello and L give their dentists nightmares. 

K:-I presume Mello and Matt know how to fight, as Mello is running the Mafia. Near specialized in de-escalation I guess? Or maybe like Mello, Near also uses a gun if needed?

So like, even though the whammy orphans are smart most of them didn't seem to be on the L career track.

E:-True. Since Whammy's is originally for gifted orphans from various groups of artists and athletics and intelligence he would have some teachers for training in defense and offense. 

Seriously Whammy is just making batman. Near: While Mello was learning how to castrate a man, I learned how to kill them with words....literally. 

K:-Which takes it up to 11 when Near uses the death note to kill Mikami.

But that probably means theres like, a scientist or something out there, who has a coworker murdered, and the police just receive a detailed report from said astronomer detailing how the murder happened and motives, and then the person just goes back to sciencing and leaves everyone stunned. 

E:-Omg the scientists was a Whammy kid!

Lmao well gotta use that detective skill set they learned at some point. 

K:-So like, they probably took at least one art class. Who do you think took what?

E:-They have to take art as its mandatory lol. 

Hmmm I can see Mello with paints depending which ones but I am biased to say watercolor maybe Mello would have patience for it.Buuuuut acrylics or gouache. 

K:-Or encaustic

E:-Mello works with their hands a lot so maybe with clay too. That too!

K:-Wait no, that would get banned fast… at least heat based. Cold encaustic maybe would stay. 

E:-Matt is in graphic designs and photoshop...she does it for the memes

Near has face masks of L and himself he made those. 

K:-So Near and Mello got into different kinds of sculpting.I assume they know how to play an instrument, but which one?

E:-Mello got the electric triangle. Just to piss off Roger!

Matt going: I know guitar

Roger from the office: Videos games don't count!

Matt: I know some strings!

Near: the flute dunno why but I can see it. 

K:-Lol, but like in seriousness I do imagine them knowing classical instruments. Matt is Piano. And Mello is maybe cello? Or Viola for the stereotype.

E:-Lmaoo! Mello cello it rhymes!

K:- I didn't even consider that angle

E:-What!! Lol! Crack gotta do it!

K:-point. I'm sure normal subjects like math and writing, and reading comprehension were taught. World history would be big, as well as science. Phycology, poker, and Criminology! All taught at the worlds most intense orphan cram school for future detectives

E:-I wonder if Roger had to deal with other people trying to enroll their kids at his orphanage. Kinda like the X Men.There is one non mutant kid who goes there and because its the school with the best teachers.

K:-Hmm…Its probably kind of exclusive but on the other hand

Funding!

E:-Who would be funding this? Roger has money right? As does Watari.

K:- They do. And I think L is not the first L. 

E:-Maybe patents they're using or military sponsoring?

K:-But like, if regular people go to intense detective cram school, its probably at an intense tuition. Which pays for orphan care. Whammy's is just more then an exclusive name with a reputation, though it is also that.

E:-Yes that could be it! …I think we veered off a bit lol

K:-Matt is best karaoke singer of the three!

E:- agreed. Sings all her favorite game op. Near has a cute voice. Not the best but can hold a note. 

K:-Mello goes loud and chaotic but can sing. 

Or maybe the opposite? Surprisingly soft voice?

E:-Oooh I love both Ideas! Soft but goes for loud chaotic songs! She's gonna go raspy by doing that.