#its a dumb conference
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#m txt#i get on my flight today and im nervous#but more of a realization that i probably have been depressed lol bc ive known about this since may and just dont feel any excitement#and i told my therapist last friday? and she was sort of like okay whatever what are you feeling and all i could do was shrug#its a dumb conference#i got paid and used rhat for groceries#and now like...none if this matters lol#which is bad but rhats been my brain for months why reapply to school why try at this job why really do anything like none if this really#matters to me anymore none of this is going to get better lol#and were heading to where the storm super fucked up a town so like wtf am i supposed to do at night?.and afternoon ish like rhis place#doesnt have running water?#i want to get drunk and dance lol
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i must not mald about extremely dumb nonsense 🧘♂️
#was assured i would have the house to myself this afternoon. made plans to play my loud goofy wii games.#people immediately home at 1pm taking conference calls on speaker phone.#ITS SO DUMB AND TRIVIAL BUT AAAAAUUUGHGHGH i was really looking forward to it :( whatever man
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my 'ive given up on life but i cant live off maple syrup marshmallows and peanut butter sandwhiches i need to get groceries' outfit. for some reason it looks like i took this in daylight but its dark as night outside despite only been 6 and its the most depressing thing i should have gotten groceries in the sunlight ugh hindsight.
#journal shit#see here's the thing and its a thing specific to LA.#all my friends here need two weeks of notice to plan anything because everyone is so damn busy#so me keeping this entire weekend free under the assumption that we would do something was big for me lmao haha im so dumb#like i knew i wouldnt have time to see him during the conference and i planned no volunteering this weekend to make up for it#he must have known in advance he was gonna do this or had some hint??? a text message that cold is not a sudden decision#meanwhile i was still daydreaming about airplane museum trips and bringing him to the rest of my favorite running spots and blah blah blah#i got blindsided and i get to be the one stuck without plans#i guess you cant really give two weeks notice for the Hey This Isnt Working Out text though lollllll#im not mad at him i dont even really blame him that much im just lonely
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Got put on a PIP today for shit no one ever mentioned to me before that isn't new plus some some stuff that it is only halfway accurate
#so ya girl looking for a new job#i was gonna stay here for a bit but I'm not dumb i know what a pip means#i read ask a manager#and ok I had a very personal falling out with my boss - who was also kinda my bestie - a few months ago#but this doesnt even seem personal it seems extremely and deeply impersonal#like you couldn't even tell me this shit that had been happening for months was a problem you just go from 0 to 60#and schedule this like its prepping me for your upcoming PTO but then three minutes into the meeting the CEO busts into the conference room#so also like why you being so weirdly sneaky about this man#on second thought this might be a little personal#but let the record show he's the one who fucked up first and pulled some real bitch ass shit#did i act up outside of work about it ya a bit not my proudest moment#i accept i kinda fucked up there only bc in addition to being a bestie who just fucked me over he is also actually my boss#AND HR!!!!#(my other work bestie has been saying 'told you hr is not your friend' since)#and im like ya i know i always knew i told you i knew the stakes!!#anyway don't text hr 'WHAT THE FUCK' on facebook even if they send you the worst shit before immediately logging off for the day#even if you know theyre the shittier person there you are still the one who looks worse on corporate paper#thankfully he did not actually ever write me up for that specifically it has just colored things since#including my treatment of him HE DOES NOT EXIST HE IS DEAD TO ME#my last supervisor was so horrible to me i went on medical leave bc of how bad she was triggering my PSTD#and i talked to her more in any given day than ive talked to you this month buddy#i hope you remember how many 'i really value our friendship' messages you sent me#which i never responded to with anything other than fumbling inability to accept love or sincerity#and i hope you feel bad!#i hope you spend a lot of time thinking how you fucked that up!!#i hope you always feel a little pang of 'ah fuck' any time you remember me for the rest of YOUR LIFE#bc literally all i asked was for you to believe im trying my best#its barely even factual and i wasnt asking you to disagree with anyones opinions that i wasnt doing enough#but just to acknowledge how hard i was TRYING#(WHILE I HAD COVID AND SPORADIC FEVERS FOR AN ENTIRE FUCKING WEEK FUCK YOU)
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top 4 worst guys to have on your capture the flag team
#instagram actually tried to mute my audio. can you believe that. the nerve#luckily im bugs bunny and i always win#anyways i like making dumb little scraps it reminds me im alive#*edits#angrykin crywalker#lokabrenna#its farm tarm#his brain is a conference call#sw#marvel#mcu#bsg#westworld
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THIS IS WHAT THE DRUGS ARE FOR | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist
summary; when no one else helps spencer’s addiction after being kidnapped — you do, and you offer him help as a recovering addict yourself
warnings; mentions of kidnapping, early seasons reid, around the time of his addiction to dilauded, mentions of suicide, mentions of being shot (pass tense during a case) mentions relapsing, addiction to opioids mentions of being addicted to oxycodone, drug use, overdoses, hurt x comfort, angst, not a lot of romance but its sweet, fem reader, normal criminal minds stuff. mentions of the team completely ignoring spencers addiction bc that was messed up.
an; honestly this was difficult to write as a recovering oxycodone addict, a little bit self indulgent.. whoopsies!! but in honour of 5 years sober 🤗🤗 (i am too open with my issues on social media) this is probably horrible
‘This is what the drugs are for. Turn the lights off on the comedown I still get emotional, when I think about your old house. Hopefully, the high, works to change my mind’
You noticed quicker than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t like you could pinpoint a certain point, maybe it was when he turned back at you after standing up from the dead body of his kidnapper and you saw the way his pupils blew, something guilty behind them — maybe thats when your concern started.
You knew for certain when his focus was in and out daily. You knew everyone on the team had their suspicions, had the gut feeling that there was something more to the tiredness in Spencer’s eyes. You knew more than you wanted to admit.
Your hands twirled the pen on your fingers as your eyes stayed fixated on the male sitting in front of you, you watched as his hands came up to scratch the inside of his elbow. You knew the motion all too well, like muscle memory.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you heard Hotch ask a question to which only Spencer reid would know the answer to. You shifted your gaze slightly as you leant back in your chair, at his lack of response and focus.
It took Hotch saying his name a second time for his gaze to pull and a small apology to leave his lips. Hotch repeated the question and you watched as it took a minute too long for Spencer Reid’s all to long ramble to start about the detail.
Normally, someone would make a teasing comment about how Spencer had to think about it, but the tension stayed among the group as they all noticed the same thing — yet no one did anything about it.
You knew the feeling well, and it made your skin itch in anger.
Rossi handed out jobs, inviting you to stay back with Spencer to help with case work. You looked at Spencer noticed his eyes dropping, it made your chest ache.
Everyone else had left leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. Your gaze stayed fixated on him as his mind fell in and out of focus. You had to admit if you didn’t know Spencer Reid as well as you did, he hid it well.
“How long?” You muttered out, as your eyes pulled away from his to skim the case. You could feel his gaze on yours and you could practically feel the heavy breath that left his mouth.
His words came out snappy, but you knew he didn’t mean it. “What?”
You looked up at him again, seeing his gaze on yours, his pupils constricted and you could practically see the way his hand was twitching not to claw at the inside of his elbow.
You knew he knew what you meant, you knew he was playing dumb. You pulled the same thing for years. If he wanted to play the game you’d play, and you would outplay him every time. “How long have you been using?”
His face twisted up, he could’ve been an actor.
“Im not.” He pushed out. His voice betrayed his face, as it went an octave higher. For someone so smart you’d think he would know how to lie — but he didn’t, not well. Not to you. He could tell you didn’t believe him from the way your eyebrow quipped. “I don’t know why you’d think that.” He added, trying to sound convincing.
You hummed, “Your pupils are constricted for one. You aren’t focusing, you are all depressed. Oh and you’re slurring.. By the way” You pointed out with your pen in your hand directed towards him. You watched as his face fell for a split second. If you weren’t paying as much attention as you were you might’ve missed it.
But you were paying attention.
“Im just tired— and I have allergies ” He lied. It made you want to laugh at the familiarity of all his lies, the same ones you remember thinking you were so smart for thinking of in the moment so many years ago.
You let out an unconvinced ‘mhm’ as you nodded your head. You watched as it dawned in his eyes that he had been called out. You wondered if maybe he enjoyed the fact that no one pointed it out, until now, until you.
“I had allergies too, for a long time” You stated out simply, playing his game, outplaying him. Your goal here wasn’t to make him feel ashamed, in any way. It was purely to let him know that he wasn’t alone.
You remembered feeling so alone.
He spluttered slightly, his eyes widened the slightest bit. “What?” He breathed out, confused because he never would’ve guessed. You knew that. You knew the person you were now was nothing like the person you were a few years prior. You hid your addiction well but you were changed as a person, and you weren’t nearly the same person you were before the addiction.
You offered him a small smile, “I know an addict when I see one Reid, I know the addiction. I know your skin feels like it’s crawling right now and your head is probably spinning because you are going through withdrawals. I know all the lies, I used them all before” You said softly as you lean your forearms against the table; your eyes softened as your gaze stayed fixated on his.
You watched the words slowly process through his head. Slowly but surely he seemed to understand. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “How- How long have you known?” He asked, his voice small, evident how confronting this conversation was for him — but he needed it. He needed to know he had someone in his corner.
“I had my suspicions for a while. I wanted to be sure before I said anything..” You muttered out as you reached across the table to take his hand in yours comfortingly, “I was waiting— hoping someone else said something, I know I’m not your first choice of a person to help you through this — but I am here” You said softly.
You weren’t not close to Spencer. You were, close in age, had similar interests and you two got along well. The childish crush you had on him remained buried in between your ribcage — that was the thing about being an addict, it made you a good actor. You could act your way through any feeling.
He almost coughed at your words, his hand tightening around yours as you gave him a supportive squeeze. “Im- Thank you. I-“ His words seemed heavy on his tongue as his head shook. “I’m glad it’s you.” He said honestly.
You offered him a soft smile. You could almost see a question weighing on his mind, “What is it spence? What do you want to ask?” You prompted him, knowing his mind was properly almost complete fog at this point, overtaken by cravings.
“What- What were you addicted to? When?” He asked, eyebrows pushed upwards as if he was trying to figure out the timeline of your addiction, it caused an uncomfortable bubble in your chest.
“I was an oxy’s girl” You said, you knew it wasn’t funny but it seemed as joking was the only way to get through talking about this no matter the unsettling feeling it left in your stomach.
You exhaled heavily, “I started taking them in college after a surgery.. and well- I got addicted, obviously.” You ran your free hand through your hair as the memory dwindled in the back of your mind. Spencer’s hand squeezed your hand softly, making a half hearted tight lipped smile line your lips.
“I was clean when I first started here.” You said, fingers fidgeting. He listened with as much focus as he could with your words — you didn’t take offence to his half out of it mind. You couldn’t. “I relapsed after I got shot and they put me on them — no one knew about my addiction and I was too embarrassed to admit it to the doctors in front of the team, I relapsed once I got out of hospital.” You stated honestly.
You remembered it clear as day, after four years sober, the day you relapsed still stayed engraved into the walls of your mind freshly. You had been shot in the shoulder on a case, you were rushed to hospital and put on oxycodone and other pain medications immediately while unconscious. When you woke up and asked what they had given you, the team was standing around your bed so all you could do was nod, the relapse happened after that.
Spencer’s hand tightened on yours as his face pulled with guilt when he realised he didn’t notice. He opened his mouth to apologise but you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say. “It’s okay.” You said, tightening your grasp on his hand mirroring his grasp on yours. “I mastered my lies by then, after years and years of lying to everyone around me.. I knew what worked and what did it.. I did it to myself” You spoke honestly.
He chewed on his lip as his gaze adverted to the table. You held his hand tightly as you felt it twitch slightly. You knew he wanted to scratch his elbow and you knew why. Your face softened all over again.
“It’s not worth it Spence. Trust me.” You said, voice heavy with honesty and you meant it more than words could explain. “You get mean, really mean, you lose yourself more and more everyday. Its not worth losing everyone around you, its not worth losing yourself” You gaze stayed on his face even when his eyes avoided yours.
You heard the shaky breath leave his lips, and then his hand left yours as his pinched his eyelids, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It made your stomach ache.
“It- Its so hard” He said quietly. You didn’t think you had ever experienced heartbreak like hearing his voice break. Any sort of pain you felt in your life didn’t quite compare to seeing him fall apart from your words.
“I know- I know” You instantly stood up from your seat as you walked around the table towards him, he stood up as well and before you could do anything his hands were around your waist, pressing his body against yours and his head into the crevice of your neck. You arms wrapped around him without a second thought.
You could feel his tears against the skin of your neck, they were hot and thick. Your hand ran across his back gently. You always thought you’d know exactly what to do if this moment ever came to be — but you didn’t.
Words died in the back of your throat as all you could do was hold the boy in your arms as he let out the quietest soft sobs that made a gut wrenching feeling settle in your bones as goosebumps ran over your skin.
“I- I want to stop — I want to- How did you stop?” He said, wiping his face as he stood up straight, arms pulled back by his side. Your heart ached and your skin burned.
You shook your head, “Do you remember when I had to take emergency leave for family emergency?” You asked, eyes looking up into his that gleamed wet and dreary. It pulled on your heart strings and uncomfortable amount,
He nodded briefly, after he took a long moment to try to recall. You nodded back, a sigh leaving your lips. “I- Um.. I overdosed.” You stated, trying to speak stronger than your voice allowed you to. “I was in hospital for two weeks, connected to machines and wires — forced to speak to someone everyday until they deemed me healthy. I didn’t tell anyone- no one knows” You continued to shake your head.
“Do not let it get to that point Spencer — Shaking on the floor and literally frothing at the mouth, feeling so cold but not even functioning enough to know what being cold is, is not want you want. I know it feels good now — but you are going to kill yourself whether you want to or not if you keep taking it.” You spoke clearly, wanting your point to be perfectly clear. It was not worth it.
He held guilt behind fogged eyes, guilt that he didn’t notice, guilt that he almost lost you — literally and he had no idea. That you were alone during the lowest point of your life and he had no idea. He allowed your words to cloud his mind for a moment as they worked to overpower the cravings that were working to controlling his system.
“i- I don’t- Im sorry.” He stuttered over his words as he failed to think of anything better to say. Your face fell briefly as you wrapped your arms around him again.
“Im here? Okay. We will do this together day by day. I am here and I’m always going to be here Spence.” You comforted non the less.
He needed it and you needed him
#criminal minds#criminal minds show#criminalmindsfans#criminal minds x reader#spencer criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x reader#wattpad#criminal minds one shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#good riddances x spencer reid series#good riddance x spencer reid oneshot#good riddance x spencer reid#goodriddance x spencer reid series!!#good riddance
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I Trust You
This is my newest Dark! Buck imagine, I hope you will all like this one and thank you @missdreamofendless for going through ideas with me for this one.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: After meeting (Y/n) and her baby out on a call, Evan quickly finds himself falling for her and attaching himself to her. She's all he can think about. And she will be his.
Enjoy.
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A deep sigh rumbled past Evan's lips when he hopped down from the truck. This looked like it was going to take a while.
He squinted up at the building in front of them, trying to think and get a layout of the hospital in his mind to figure out which part of the building was on fire.
Evan had never been to a hospital fire before. He had never known a hospital in this area have a fire or have one that was catastrophic enough to cause a full evacuation like this. The 118 hadn't been here at the beginning of the fire, they seemed to have turned up right in the middle of things like they were the last ones to arrive to a party.
This meant full gear. Evan set about zipping up his overall jacket and found his helmet in one of the compartments. He stuck it on his head, fished around for his gloves and strapped them tight around his wrists. Once on, he found his mask in its dusty orange bag and strapped it around his waist. They didn't know how much smoke they would run into up there and when Bobby gave them all a look, they all nodded.
Evan could feel his shoulders slumping as he helped Hen hand out the oxygen tanks to their team.
Smoke and fire meant all the oxygen would be sucked in to feed the flames. They had to be able to breathe in order to evacuate the patients. The tank weighed heavy on Evan's back right between his shoulders, but it was a weight he was used to and not nearly as heavy as the ones he trained with down at the gym. He just knew that the extra weight and effort was going to make him sweat more profusely in that sauna of a hospital.
Fully suited, Evan clicked his neck into place and stood in line with the rest of the team, waiting patiently for Bobby to confer with the 106 who had gotten here first. They needed to know where they were needed and what they were going to be doing.
"Alright, Chim they need an extra set of hands assessing the ICU patients and getting them transported. Hen, you and me will go up to the third floor, there are a few patients they're struggling to transport with all the equipment."
Both of them nodded and Chimney jogged over to the tent set up outside where they were trying to sort out who was most in need of transportation. Nearby hospitals were taking in anyone they would who needed special monitoring or dialysis or life support.
"Eddie, Buck, there's still people on the second floor in the maternity wing who aren't evacuated so go there and make sure that ward is clear please."
"Copy."
Evan took the lead. He knew where he was going, he had been in the hospital enough times to know where the wards were located and he knew the maternity ward was near the front. He steered towards the left and over to the 106 truck that was conveniently moving their ladder towards the front windows to help get their teams in and patients out.
"Can you get us up to the second floor?" Evan pointed at the ladder and when the guy whose helmet read Taron nodded, he and Eddie climbed up on the top of the truck.
There was no time and no need to clip a harness onto the ladder when they could just run up and get in. The ladder was safe enough and they didn't have time to mess around here.
Evan was glad when he got to the top of the ladder that he didn't have to break the window. It was open on a latch, so all he had to do was wiggle his fingers, undo the latch and shimmy the window up as high as it would go. He briefly took off his helmet so he could shimmy through the window before he plonked it back on his head and looked around.
"Where'd you wanna start?"
"Fire's towards the left part of the building, there should be an exit across at the back. Start left and loop around?" Evan pointed to the door on his left that would lead them into the corridor.
It seemed safest to head nearest the fire and make sure no one was in peril, then they could loop around, clear the floor and get out.
"Sure," Eddie tapped his helmet to make sure it was in place but when they headed out the room, his eyes narrowed and he looked up at his best friend. "You holdin' out on me or something?"
How did Evan know his way around the hospital so well, especially the maternity ward?
"Nothing so exciting. I've got a good memory, from visiting Mads and Jee."
He steered to the left and headed down a long corridor, both of them peering into each room they passed. They had to get everyone out, smoke was already starting to clog up the halls and seep through the vents. They didn't want to be in here long.
When Eddie peered down a corridor on the right, he placed his hand down on Evan's shoulder and pulled him back in that direction.
There were two women and two nurses heading their way, hurrying as fast as they could down the corridor.
"All of you, this way and down the back exit there will be people outside to take you somewhere safe." Eddie waved his hands and guided them towards him, showing them the back stairs which weren't yet consumed by the flames or drastic smoke following them like a shadow.
They found another three mothers, all with their own newborns in their arms, and Eddie turned and guided them back down to the stairs while Evan carried on. They only had a few more rooms to clear and then they could check the neonatal rooms and get out of here.
Just as Evan went to open one of the doors on his right, he took a step back when it was yanked open like a force of nature. He stumbled on his back foot, eyes wide and lips parted.
The girl stood in front of him displayed the same shock that was written across his face. They hadn't expect the other to be there.
She was stunning.
Evan wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline coursing through his system, the smoke he had started to inhale or just the rush of emotions in this situation. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
The way the loose tendrils of hair fell down her face made her look positively angelic. Her doe eyes were wide and round and her pupils took over almost the whole expanse of her eyes. Those plump, parted lips were heart shaped and made Evan want to lean closer and taste them.
Her hands were gripping the door, clinging to it like she was trying to prop herself up and the way she was slightly stooped forward made Evan trail his eyes up and down her frame.
She had already had her baby. A lot of the rooms in this ward were mixed, some women had given birth, others were under observation and some were in labour. He guessed all those in labour had been escorted out first, they would have been priority to be taken to the nearest hospital.
And by the way she was leaning forwards, Evan wondered if she had gone through a C-section.
He noted that she was wearing pyjamas. A thin, light blue top with thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and matching, baggy pyjama bottoms.
"Come with me, we're evacuating all the wards in this wing. I'll take you outside." He reached his hand out for her elbow and gently tried to coax her forward, but her eyes were rapidly scanning the corridor. "Miss-"
"I- my baby, I have to get her." Both her hands clutched Evan's arm so tightly she had him shaking along with her.
She tried to turn him around and drag him in the opposite direction towards the neonatal unit.
(Y/n) couldn't go and just leave her baby. She was two days old. She had to go and make sure someone had taken her and if not, she had to get her baby and get out. There was no way she could leave the hospital and go outside to safety if she didn't know whether her baby would be there or not. She couldn't leave Rory here in peril.
When she desperately pulled on his arm, Evan moved. He looped his right arm around her back and let her keep hold of his left hand. He tilted his head down, taking note of the nametag strapped around her wrist and he tried to rub his gloved hand up and down her back.
Something about the way she slotted into place in his arms almost made Evan smile. He felt like he'd seen her before, there was something about her that captivated him completely and Evan wanted nothing more than to keep her in his arms and escort her downstairs himself.
"(Y/n)," Her name felt like sugar on his lips and her eyes held his full attention when she stopped struggling and looked up at him. "I need you to go out to safety. You go with my partner, and I'll go make sure no baby isn't still here. Chances are she's already outside waiting for you."
When Evan caught sight of Eddie coming back from the stairwell, he slowly turned (Y/n) around so they were facing the right way.
He had to make sure the ward was clear anyway, and he couldn't allow her to come searching with him when she was a patient and needed to be looked after. If the fire got worse, Evan had a gas mask and an oxygen tank and protective clothing, (Y/n) didn't.
The tight grip she had on his hand made him step closer to her and the desperation in his eyes drew her in. He didn't want to let go of her. He didn't want to hand her over to Eddie, as if she was a friend Evan didn't want to share or part with.
Her voice sounded like a song, serenading him and her words struck his heart and rattled down to his core.
"Please- she- she's all I've got-"
"Hey, I'm going to get her and bring her right back to you, okay? Don't worry, you go wait outside."
When Evan nodded at Eddie, he begrudgingly unravelled his arms from her and let Eddie take her arm instead.
He made sure to note the last name written on her wristband before he disappeared down the corridor to the last place he hadn't evacuated yet. He burst through the doors of the first room, the neonatal room compact with incubators and equipment and heaters and oxygen masks and all the smaller instruments specifically for premature babies.
All had been evacuated. That was good. The most fragile patients had been escorted out of here.
Evan could feel the heat following him like he was a thief in the night and the heat was licking the back of his neck and smothering his jacket. He pushed ahead towards the last room in this ward where the healthy newborns were looked after.
To his surprise, there was one nurse left, one babe in each arm and her head instantly ticked to the cradle behind the door Evan had burst through. "These are the last ones, everyone should be out by now." The nurse sounded relieved but her expression was panicked.
There were no more babies to be evacuated and now that Evan and Eddie had evacuated all the other patients, they were all in the clear.
He nodded and spun around, suddenly glad that the hospital put wristbands on each child as soon as possible. He couldn't imagine not knowing which child was which or leaving with two and getting them mixed up. What a horror that would cause.
When he looked down at the cradle, something surged through his heart. He didn't need to read the wristband on the child's arm that was waving back and forth as they wailed, clearly petrified. He could see the name written on the chart on the side of the cradle.
The last name stuck out first. This was (Y/n)'s baby. This was the little one she had been trying to get to, the one Evan promised to find. And when he looked at her first name, his lips quirked.
Aurora.
Fitting. Such a lovely name for a little girl that reminded Evan of a princess.
His gloved hands shook as he carefully reached down for her and slowly eased her into his chest. He knew his jacket wouldn't be the comfiest, it would be itchy against her soft, tender skin but they didn't have much of a choice right now.
The moment she was in the crook of his elbow, her cries ceased almost immediately. She switched to whimpers and wriggling around and when Evan cooed and rocked her as he turned around, it was like magic.
He tucked her blanket a bit higher so it was draped over her neck and very loosely over her mouth. Just in case the smoke followed them in here.
He whispered a soft "It's okay, I've got you." and held her higher to his chest as he moved towards the window. He knew the layout of this place, this room was facing the chaos outside. He could get the truck to move the ladder over to them and get them out quicker. He didn't want to risk going back down the stairs when the fire was still spreading.
It didn't take long to open the window, wave his hand and wait for the truck to tilt the ladder a few degrees to the left to reach them.
"Here's our ride." He held his free hand out to the nurse and took one of the newborns so she could climb over the legs and carefully stand on the ladder. Once she had both back in her arms, she started her descent and Evan cast his eyes down to Aurora in his arms.
He couldn't look away from her as he swung his legs over the window frame and climbed onto the ladder.
His gloved hand cradled hers, his thumb stroked over the back of her hand and he rocked her up and down while he steadily walked down the ladder. He was more careful than he usually would have been when he climbed down from the truck and got back onto solid ground.
He wouldn't let anything happen to the girl in his arms.
"You're okay, you're okay." He cooed as he lifted her higher against his chest and looked around the scene.
He didn't want to let her go.
What would happen if he held her for just a while longer? Would anyone stop him? Would someone take her from him? What if he couldn't find (Y/n) again? Possibilities ran through his head until his eyes lifted and he looked ahead to where one of the tents was set up in the middle of the foyer.
There she was.
He wasn't too sure where Eddie was, maybe he had been roped into getting the last part of the fire under control. Maybe he was getting patients to an ambulance for transporting, Evan wasn't sure, and suddenly he didn't care. All he cared about was watching that captivating girl hurry towards him as fast as she could in her state.
She had one arm tightly bound around her abdomen, making Evan sure that she was recovering from a C-section. Her eyes were looking at him as if she had tunnel vision, as if Evan was the only thing she could see. The only person worth looking at.
He could see the desperation in her eyes and the panic written across her face and when he glanced down, he realised she wasn't even wearing socks. She was barefoot, aiming for him to see if he had her baby.
"Is- Is it Rory?"
He was about to say no until it clicked a second later that Rory was short for Aurora. He liked that. He really liked that name.
"I've got her, she's fine."
It made something twinge in his chest like a muscle had snapped when he lowered the newborn down into her mother's arms. It was fascinating that (Y/n) didn't have to check the nametag on the newborn's wrist to know that this was her baby. Instinct must have taken over, unless she simply took Evan's word as gospel that this was indeed her child.
He could see the relief pooling in her eyes and she looked so thankful that she could have fainted and collapsed there on the spot. She held Rory close to her chest, dragging her thumb over the back of her soft head that she started to kiss. But her eyes looked up to stare at the fireman who had helped them.
She read the name on his helmet.
Buckley. 118.
She wasn't going to forget that in a hurry. (Y/n) would bear that name in mind, she was going to have to thank him for this.
"Can I take you to a medic, to make sure you're both okay?" Evan dared to rest his hand on her lower back and took a step closer until their sides were touching and he had to look down to see her face properly.
She nodded and he was spurred on when she didn't pull away or create some space between them. He motioned his other hand out in front of them and slowly started to guide them towards a paramedic he could see in the distance. They both needed to be checked out before they were taken somewhere to wait for transport to a different hospital for the remainder of their stay.
His eyes found their way back to (Y/n) when she lifted her head up and he saw a smile forming on her lips.
Her smile was beautiful. He wanted to keep that smile in his memory. He wanted to gaze on that smile and be the reason she smiled. He wanted to keep that smile for himself and be the one and only reason she sparkled as brightly as that.
"You're a real hero, you know that?" She sounded breathless and he could see she was subtly shaking, but her words were enough to spark a fire igniting throughout Evan's system.
He liked the sound of that.
He had never been a hero to anyone before. He had failed in trying to save Daniel, and that meant he would never be good enough in his parent's eyes. He had never done anything to warrant being a hero to Maddie. He had been there after she got away from Doug, but he never did anything to actually save her, not like he wanted to.
He hadn't been a hero to any of his past girlfriends and that had been okay, he didn't have anything to prove to them or a desire to be heroic for them.
But hearing (Y/n) say that, seeing her look at him like that, it sparked something to life in his chest and made his heart swell and his head rattle with ideas and thoughts and images of a future that he wanted. He liked the thought of being a hero to her. He liked the thought of being there when she needed him, of being the one to help her.
Curiosity dwelled in his eyes along with a spark that started to form. Maybe she needed a hero. Maybe (Y/n) was someone who needed saving.
Evan could do that. He could save her. He could be there and help her, he could definitely see himself trying to help her and the beautiful little bundle in her arms.
And as he stared down at the pair of them, he couldn't get that thought to leave his mind.
***
Something sparked in Evan's eyes when he looked dead ahead of him. He could feel all the blood rushing to his stomach, fluttering along with adrenaline and a sense of hope that was growing wings and trying to take flight.
She was here.
The girl. The one he had been thinking, imagining and dreaming about for the last week. The girl he had saved from the hospital, she was walking right through those station doors.
He knew it!
He knew, Evan just knew if he bided his time, he would run into her sooner or later. But oh, had it been hard. He found it so hard to stay focused at work, to go home each night and try to find a way to get her off his mind. Nothing worked. Going to the gym didn't help when she still plagued his thoughts and he couldn't push through the barrier she created. He couldn't find the attention span to watch movies after work.
He didn't want to go out for drinks with any of the team, and when some of the women on calls tried to flirt with him, Evan felt angered. They weren't her; they weren't (Y/n).
But now she was here. It just proved that Evan knew deep down it would work out. He knew he would bump into her again at some point, and it had only taken a week for her to walk into his station.
Evan didn't have to resort to hanging around where she lived- the address which he had found on her file that he checked back at the hospital fire when patients were being transported to different hospitals. He didn't have to wait around where she lived and try to catch another glimpse of her and create a casual meet.
He didn't have to go looking for her to stop her from haunting his every waking moment, because here she was, walking into his station like this was where she belonged all along.
Evan tossed down the cloth in his hand, rolled his eleeves up to his elbows and jogged ahead between the fire trucks. He wanted to make sure no one else got to her first. He wanted- no, he needed to be the one to talk to her, to find out why she was here. To find out if she was here to see him.
She looked lovely. Hair swept back out of her face, teeth sunk down into her bottom lip that looked like an anxious habit to Evan. She was wearing jeans and a pale turquoise shirt that cut a bit low down the front and had ruffles around the shoulders.
His eyes cast down to the pram she was pushing. She had brought Aurora down to the station.
"(Y/n), hi."
She paused when Evan approached and his heart ignited when he saw the way her lips curved into a beautiful grin that flashed her teeth and creased her eyes.
"Buckley… so I am at the right place." Her voice was so soothing, no hint of panic or torment like the first time they spoke. No panic written across her face and no anguish building up in her heart.
He saw the way she cast her eyes up and down his frame as he stepped closer and tucked his hands into his pockets. He couldn't help but look down into the pram, and his smile widened when he looked at the newborn tucked up beneath a blanket. She was sleeping, she looked very settled and calm and he loved that the beige hat she wore had a Mickey Mouse silhouette sewn into the centre.
"Call me Evan. What can we do for you? Are you both okay?" When Evan moved one hand from his pocket and motioned to the pram, he waited until (Y/n) nodded to reach down. He brushed his finger along Aurora's cheek, loving the way she seemed to lean into his touch like she knew exactly who he was and that he was someone she wanted to be around.
"We're fine, thanks to you. I came to say thank you, properly, for helping us last week."
Reaching down beneath the pram, (Y/n) found the tuppaware box and gingerly held it out to Evan. She tried not to blush or let heat rise to her skin when she saw the way he grinned as he took the box from her. It wasn't much, but she knew baked goods were always welcomed and she wasn't quite sure how else to say thank you. Other than to come down in person to show her gratitude and hand over some cookies.
"Thank you." Evan was already opening the box and diving in to try a cookie and he hummed when he bit into one. "You didn't have to, you know. It's all part of the job."
"It's not everyday a hospital has a fire, or that someone goes back in to get your baby for you. Thanks is the least I could do."
This may be an everyday thing for him, but not for (Y/n). She hadn't gone into the hospital expecting a mass fire to break out. She didn't expect to be evacuated or to have someone rush back inside to make sure her daughter wasn't still in there and get her out safe. She didn't dare think what would of happened if he hadn't of been there at that exact moment, to help her.
"So, she's doing okay?" His eyes cast down to the pram when he finished the cookie and tucked the box under one arm so he didn't drop it.
Part of him wanted to reach in and pick her up. She had seemed very settled when he held her last week at the hospital. He wanted to see if she would still settle with him. He wanted to cuddle her and see how she might attach herself to him, to see if she would remember who he was.
"Yeah, she's doing great. Keeping me awake at night, but that's what I signed up for."
"Just you two?" Evan spoke before he could stop himself and despite how quiet his voice came out, he knew (Y/n) heard him. He diverted his eyes down to the pram, brushing Aurora's cheek once again as she started to wriggle. But the quiet hum (Y/n) gave out handed him his answer.
Just her and her girl. They had each other, and that was all they needed.
"Hey, what're you doing here?"
Evan snapped his head up to look over at Bobby when the Captain trotted down the stairs from the kitchen and made a beeline their way. The sight of him walking forward had Evan's brows furrowing and he tilted his head to one side in uncertainty.
"Just stopped by to say thanks to your team, for being so lovely during the hospital evacuation last week."
The smile that flooded (Y/n)'s face when she looked up at Bobby had a slither of jealousy creeping up the back of Evan's spine and surging through his chest. How did she know Bobby? Why was she smiling like that at him? Hadn't she come here to see Evan, not the Captain?
He watched Bobby loop an arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reel her in for a hug, and he did his best to hide his grimace as he watched them. And he swallowed down a grumble when Bobby kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head and gave her a squeeze.
"Oh really? Stick around for a coffee, see the rest of the team." Bobby spoke into the top of (Y/n)'s hair and when he finally parted from her, he patted Evan's shoulder and leaned around him to look into the pram at Aurora. He had a few things to take care of, but he would make time for a coffee if (Y/n) stuck around for a while.
Bobby seemed to smile wider when he saw the newborn nuzzling into Evan's hand that was still stretched down towards her.
When he walked past them both and moved towards the back of the station, Evan turned his attention to (Y/n). He tried to keep his composure, stay standing tall and plastered the smile back on his face as he stepped closer to her. He liked the way she had to tilt her head at an angle to look up at him. He liked that doe look in her eyes and the way she smiled at him was as if he was the only person in the world worth talking to.
"You uh, you know Bobby?"
"He's my uncle, I used to stay with him a lot when I moved out here after school. He's Rory's godfather."
(Y/n) would say that she was closer to her uncle than she was to her own parents. He had practically taken her in when she moved out to LA not long after Bobby left Minnesota to come out here. She had always heard him talking about his team, but she had never come down to the station or formally met any of them. They were like Bobby's second family and sometimes it was easier to keep both his worlds separate.
But from what (Y/n) had briefly seen of the team, she knew she would like them, especially Evan.
"Oh, wow." Evan nodded and began walking, motioning his arm in the right direction as (Y/n) followed along at his side with the pram. She would stick around for a coffee and a chat before she took Rory back home.
As Evan dragged his hand up and down his jaw and listened to the sound of (Y/n)'s shoes clicking against the polished floor, he found himself smiling. He had no idea Bobby had a niece, or that his niece would turn out to be someone so lovely who Evan was finding himself thinking of at every waking moment.
He liked the idea of (Y/n) being related to Bobby. Evan had come to think of Bobby as the dad he'd never had growing up. Bobby looked after him, taught him life lessons, was there when he needed him and loved and supported him and told him when he was wrong and how to right his problems.
If (Y/n) was related to Bobby, that just meant that instead of feeling like Bobby was his foster dad, he would now have a connection to him. If Evan got close to (Y/n) and found himself in a relationship with her, he would therefore be more like a true relation to Bobby. This was the beginning of a family.
They would all be drawn closer together, and Evan wanted to be as close to (Y/n) as he could get.
***
Evan almost jumped out of his skin when a hand gripped his shoulder and he felt a tall presence leaning over his right shoulder. He could feel his heart hammering away so fast in his chest he thought his ribs were going to splinter.
He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes locked with Bobby. The Captain had a knowing grin on his face that put Evan at ease, he wasn't about to be reprimanded for anything and he wasn't going to have a stern conversation. He seemed to have taken some delight in making Evan nervous, something Bobby didn't do very often.
"So, my niece, huh?"
It took Evan by surprise and he had to take a few seconds to work out what Bobby was talking about. Until Bobby cast his eyes down to look at Evan's phone that was clasped in his hands, and they both looked at his lockscreen.
(Y/n).
A blush started to creep up the side of Evan's neck and dusted across his cheeks when he nodded. He wasn't sure how to respond to that because it didn't really sound like a question, it was more of a statement or a rhetorical question.
But Bobby didn't seem upset or annoyed or like Evan was overstepping any mark here. He looked happy, if Evan wasn't mistaken.
"I uh, I really like her, Bobby, and Rory. I'd never mess them around-"
"Kid, I trust you. You've come a long way, and I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt either of them. If you're both happy, then so am I."
He had Bobby's approval, and he didn't have to try or ask or say anything at all. Bobby was happy for them. He was happy that Evan was infatuated with his niece and would do anything for her. This was better than Evan had hoped for.
Something soft dwelled in (Y/n)'s eyes when she glanced towards the living room.
Evan was sweet.
He was stood behind the sofa, looking like he had been pacing up and down for a little while now. He had Rory in his arms who he had been holding for the last twenty minutes or so. He barely put her down, and she barely cried in his arms.
She couldn't quite believe how sweet and endearing Evan was being towards both her and Rory.
(Y/n) had been a little nervous and mostly unsure when Evan came round last week, and then again, and then popped by today. She wasn't sure why he wanted to befriend her so badly. She was a single mother with a newborn, she wasn't going to be much fun or good company, but Evan seemed intent on getting to know her. And he was more than eager to fuss Rory and settle her if she woke up, to give (Y/n) a break.
She folded her arms over the kitchen counter and tilted her head to one side, watching Evan with a growing smile that spread across her lips. He looked like he was a natural with kids, Bobby had said so himself. He said all the kids they had on calls or the school groups that stopped by the station all levitated to Evan like he was some kind of beacon.
He understood them, he was a friendly, understanding face and a fun person to be around. And he just seemed to have a natural talent with kids. When he came round to have a coffee with (Y/n), to see how she was and ask if she wanted to go for a walk or just spend some time together, he was always more than eager to have Rory around.
Not many men would be like that. Not many men at all would try and befriend (Y/n) or pursue her when she had a baby to look after. And not many men would be so taken with her newborn and try to offer help and be a friend to be around when needed.
She couldn't hear whatever Evan was saying to Rory, but the grin on his face made her wonder if he was relaying a story, possibly a work scenario.
Her eyes finally tore away from the pair of them to look down at her phone when it buzzed on the countertop.
*Me and Athena are having a BBQ at the weekend, do you want to come over? You can bring Buck XX
(Y/n) could feel herself lighting up at the thought of a party, but when she re-read her uncle's words again, her chest started to ignite with adrenaline and her face fell into a frown.
She could bring Evan? Why would he ask her that? Wouldn't he just invite Evan along anyway? Most of her uncle's parties or meals and events included his work team nine times out of ten. Evan would surely be on the list to be invited, he would likely be the first person they invited. Why was there any need for (Y/n) to bring him along?
For a brief moment, she glanced back over at Evan in the living room, watching as he moved to sit down on the sofa, still cooing and quietly chattering away to her daughter.
*Bring Buck? XX
*Don't worry, he told me. I'm happy for you both, he's a good kid and the team is eager to meet you XX
What on Earth did that mean?
What had Evan told her uncle? Did Bobby think they were in a relationship? Did anyone else think she and Evan were in a relationship?
She and Evan were friends, he had been kind to her and he was becoming a good friend. But they weren't in a relationship. He hadn't asked her and (Y/n) wasn't sure she was ready for that. Her last relationship had gone bust the moment she found out she was pregnant and (Y/n) made the decision to do this on her own. She wanted to have her baby and she was happy to be a single mother to Rory.
(Y/n) couldn't be thinking about a relationship right now, not after she'd just had Rory and her world was turned upside down, in the best possible way. She wasn't in the right moment to be thinking about getting into a new relationship.
Stuffing her phone into her back pocket, (Y/n) sighed and pushed off the counter. She was going to have to talk to him about this. Either Bobby had gotten the wrong end of the stick somewhere along the line, or Evan had said something he shouldn't. Or maybe Evan had gotten the wrong end of things, but how?
(Y/n) hadn't said anything or done anything to give Evan the wrong idea. They were friends.
She moved away from the counter, but paused when another buzz ticked through the air. That wasn't her phone. She dared to lean over, just to catch a glimpse of Evan's phone; it might be Bobby messaging him.
She wished she hadn't looked.
Why did Evan have a photo of (Y/n) as his lockscreen?
When had he even taken a picture of (Y/n)? She didn't recall Evan ever holding his phone up and taking a photo of her, she would of remembered something like that happening with someone she didn't know very well. Why was it made his lock screen? Why had he taken a photo of her?
A shiver crawled down her spine as she walked out of the kitchen and slowly headed into the living room. She tried to smile when she watched Evan gently ease Rory down in the rocker near the armchair. The newborn was fast asleep.
(Y/n) folded her arms over her stomach and leant one hip against the back of the armchair, trying not to look too panicked or too casual or uneasy.
"Evan, have you said something to Bobby, about us?" She forced herself to control her breathing and keep her tone light. She didn't want to argue with him or start something here, she just wanted to clear this all up.
The last thing they needed was to go to this barbeque at the weekend and have people asking if they were an item and one saying yes and the other saying no. They couldn't get things muddled up or let the lines blurr.
She watched his head tilt to one side and a lopsided smile formed on his lips as he squinted up at her.
"Well, yeah, I talk about you sometimes, so… he knows. He's fine with it, though, so don't worry."
"He knows?" Her head shook and the placid smile on her face showed her clear confusion.
She could feel panic dwelling up in her chest when Evan brushed his hands up and down his thighs and pushed up to his feet. She couldn't help but take a step back when Evan twisted and walked over to her. He walked slowly, as if he was a predator stalking towards her, assessing her movements. And (Y/n) held steady, not wanting to give the wrong impression or seem like she was angry when she was simply confused.
Her breath caught in her lungs and she could feel her throat tightening when he stepped so close, their chests were touching. She could feel each breath Evan took, pressing down against her and she couldn't help the shiver that rolled down her spine when Evan's fingers pressed beneath her chin and tilted her head up in his direction.
The way he smiled down at her made something twinge in (Y/n)'s stomach. She couldn't quite figure it out, but there was just something in his eyes that made her uneasy. That glimmer, that added, darkened look that made his pupils dilate and caused his mouth to curve into a splintered smile that set her on edge.
"Yeah, that you're my girls."
His words were followed by his lips pressing to her forehead that had started to spin in circles.
She didn't realise Evan's hands had moved to her hips or that he was nudging her back until the sofa pressed into her knees and she found herself sitting down. Her heart jumped into her throat once again and she could feel herself trembling when Evan sat down beside her.
He was close enough that their knees were touching and he curled one hand around her thigh while the other hand cupped the side of her neck. She could feel his thumb brushing softly across her jaw and when he leaned in, the only place for (Y/n) to go was to tilt backwards.
He was leaning over her. He was crowding her, surrounding her, blocking her exit and her senses and numbing her thoughts.
She didn't know what to do when he kissed her.
His lips were soft, but there was something behind his touch, something he was holding back. She could feel it in his touch, in the way his hand was so tense against her neck it was like he was about to start shaking. There was something in his hand gripping her thigh, like he was tempted to squeeze even tighter and pin her in place.
The feeling of his chest pressing down onto hers made (Y/n) sink further back into the sofa she was becoming compressed on when Evan was practically lying on top of her.
She stole as much air as she could manage in the second that their lips parted and she could feel Evan smiling into her mouth before he kissed her again.
This was moving too fast. They hadn't even gone out on a date or made any inclination towards dating. They were friends- (Y/n) thought they were friends.
Evan had come round to see her a few times, they had exchanged numbers. There was no reason for her picture to be on his phone or as his lockscreen. He shouldn't be kissing her now when they hadn't agreed to start dating and they didn't know each other well.
Evan had instagated this all on his own, he had attached himself to her and he didn't look like he was going to part from her. He had told his team that they were dating, he was already making it a well-known fact when the person he should have been talking to about this was (Y/n); the only person left in the dark about all of this.
What was she going to do?
#911 imagine#imagine#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley imagine#buck x reader#buck imagine#dark! buck#bobby nash#eddie diaz
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Hi. Is parking with cars still relevant? I urgently need a car to get to the airport, and the taxi service is full... Can I take Mercedes-Benz S-class? I hope I make it to the medical conference, otherwise my supervisor will kill me..
Conference ? Job? No, the only job you’ll ever be doing is asking your dad for more money and trying to hit on girls at expensive yatch clubs. Maybe you’ll impress them driving a brand new $150,000 car as your first car that your father obviously bought, or those nice watches and shoes?I guess that’s what makes you such a cocky, straight arrogant young preppy boy, right ?
Statistics :
Identity :
Age : 18
Name : Sebastian
IQ : 80
Personality : Very annoying, just thinks money can make its way into everything - overall just dumb and not very connected with reality, thinks whoever isn’t rich doesn’t belong near him.
Sexuality : Straight, very straight.
Body :
Body type : Lean, sinewy body.
Overall attractiveness : 9.5/10.
Private’s size : 5 inches hard, but pretty thin which makes it look even smaller.
Rear end size : Perfectly round shaped rear, nice and full. Soft and smooth. Very nice to see bounce in pants and lovely to touch.
Overall B.O : 5/10 - Just smells mostly of cologne, but it’s very strong and sometimes annoying, with a slight sweaty funk underneath that mixes with the deodorant/cologne and becomes quite odorous.
Armpit scent : Pretty sweaty, and the smell is quite strong. Deodorants only mask the smell for about an hour before it starts making Itself known again.
Gassiness : 8/10, Those rich restaurants he goes to just make himself terribly gassy. The sounds are mostly hot, steamy puffs that smell of rotten eggs. He takes pride in them though and loves the smell, but that’s a little secret of his.
Foot smell : Quite smelly, smelling of rotten butter and cheese after a long day, and since he mostly wears expensive leather shoes the smell gets trapped in them and becomes very strong, almost repulsive.
Muscles : Lean/muscular body.
#male transformation#gay to straight#male tf#preppy tf#musk#smelly feet#rich tf#bottom to top#male muscle growth
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Father's Day
“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”
“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”
Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.
“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”
“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.
“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”
Iskall rubbed his temples.
“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“
“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”
“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”
“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”
Jevin glanced up from his comm.
“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”
Iskall rubbed his forehead.
“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”
They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.
“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“
“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?”
Jevin waved a hand.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!”
And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished.
<iJevin has left the game.>
Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre.
He tapped it, and vanished.
<Iskall85 has left the game.>
When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together.
Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground.
“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.
Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family.
Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall.
“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!”
Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing.
He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.
“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.
“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!”
“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!”
“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered.
“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged.
“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.
“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged.
He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids.
Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.
#magnetar writes#Jevin Fic#Iskall fic#I've had this thing in my documents for about half a year and I finally polished it up#I hope you enjoy
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We were card sharks, playing games
Part 80 of the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au
A/N: The only thing i care about today is the face Max made in the press conference talking about the cookie. I hope you all enjoy this part <3
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@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @max3verstappen @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @wcnorris @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @charllleclerc @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19 @jquinnmunson
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#f1#formula 1#f1 fanfiction#max verstappen fanfiction#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#f1 imagine#f1 social media au#lando norris x reader#lando norris#brazilian gp 2023
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Re: your tags, I don't think this is going off the rails, and it's sort of interesting to me that what you're describing reflects similar to my experience (I was not depressed, but I was and still am baffled [well, maybe a little depressed - I cannot get over how unpleasant Ken's characterization was]), but it also raises an interesting point of nuance.
That is, there's the usual uniformed alt right critics who just hate anything that breathes near a woman, obviously there's not any nuance to that. However, generally speaking the crux of both people who love the movie and people with actual negative feedback (not just knee jerk reactivism) is the issue of nuance. Both groups seem to agree nuance is key but people who liked it feel criticism lacks nuance, while people who did not like the movie find it suffers from a lack of nuance.
There's different ways to approach the question - for example it's possible to argue that having these conversations represents the intended effect of the movie. I don't believe that to be the case, but it's a fair interpretation. It's arguable that the movie literally makes it's thesis statement in Gloria's monologue and intends the rest of the movie, whole cloth, as demonstrating this thesis. Which, I don't think it does, but also that's a valid interpretation - which is kinda the whole point of criticism, not to come to a right opinion, but to have a discussion about art.
On the third side, I find it weighs heavily that the response to negative criticism is either that we were thinking to much about a fun lighthearted movie or that we just didn't have the nuance to understand it. It's a scab I really need to stop picking at.
I mean saying the movie supported men's rights kind of ignores that what the kens did was painted as bad. Like that was very much the message of the film
That was the text of the film but not the message.
I'm not going to apply greater nuanced analysis to a movie that had all coherent structure papered over in producer notes. But for a movie that spends a lot of time pointing out situations that are unfair, not equal, or "bad" it didn't have anything to say about why or what might actually resolve the inequality.
Not saying it needs to author the revolution or anything, just it kinda stopped at "patriarchy bad because men rule all and are dumb boys who are gross" and I think that's boring? It's like hey, inequality sure is bad! And it seems like weird and wrong the girl empowerment doll for diverse women is exclusively developed by old white men! Followed by crickets chirping.
I was kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop, like yes, this is a pretty fun satirical look at gender and... and..? And that's it. Barbie world goes back to hierarchical control in a perfect utopia. The real world is unaffected because all those executives are just silly guys who are trying their best. Gloria gets to be a good mom, and hands her ideas over to the corporation. The new line of Barbies are Barbies that just don't want anything at all. And Margot Barbie just leaves.
Which is unfortunate because it starts out with a great deal of very interesting ideas, but ends up without anything much to say at all. It uses all the right words but mostly just kinda ascribes broad universal meaning and morality rather than considering any of it could have some underlying complexity.
We all know feminism can't hold hands with capitalism, but the Barbie movie wants the cache of the feminist movement beholden to the bottom line of Mattel's investors. And as a fun movie about children's dolls it's fine, but it's also selling itself as a feminist film, which it very much is not.
#like why are all barbie's options binary instead of a more practical third thing#why chose between sandals and pumps when the person offering her the choice is wearing boots?#why does movie ken have one fixation on a single barbie when there's literally thousands of barbie's#why is stereotypical barbie so important that every other barbie and ken is focused on her and not any other barbies#why is beach ken so sickening full of possessive entitlement about only stereotypical barbie he can't find another barbie#why does every ken have a barbie but there's just three lonely unpartnered dolls who are kind of desparaged#is it weird that the barbie specifically identified as fulfilling all of the negative barbie stereotypes is treated as the most important#why do all the other kens who seem to get along pretty well suddenly turn evil because of beach ken#why even include the mattel corporate office it didn't add anything#it just reminded us old white guys have all the money and power and dropped the subject#it could have been left out entirely or addressed indirectly to avoid the whole conflict of interest#shortly after a speech about women having to be reassuring moms to men barbie does just that#but it didn't feel ironic it seemed completely unaware of this taking place#like it was showing the problem but by being part of the problem not illustrating it#which arguably is the subtextual intent except the movie lampshaded every time it did this#it made self aware references any time it was bringing up things up it did not address but should have#so it doesn't give me the impression that scene was purposeful#why is every man so dumb you can have men who are kind and not make them so dumb#kens dont need to be one hundred percent idiots just the kind and supporting dude that Ryan Gosling described in every press conference#whats the point of meaningful change in the real world from barbieland if the real world is just as much of a parody#after ken like brainwashes half the population and stages a coupe everyone is like well he's better now so probably its fine#that seems weird like again maybe its trying to be illustrative but if it is the movie took pains to avoid suggesting it#particularly since it was used to illustrate a completely different point but like we just had an attempted coup here#maybe read the room a little or just not have bitter jealous angry ken be a major plot point idk#i gotta think about something else honestly it is not that important my brain is just frustrated
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At Long Last
Summary: With Y/N's help, Arthur begins to discover what openness truly means.
Words: 2,287
Warnings: Swearing, Adult situations
A/N: A hearty welcome and hello to new readers! 😃 And much love and thanks to old! 🤗💜 This story came to me right after watching the sequel. I wanted to return to the beginnings of Arthur and Y/N's relationship, revisit those trepidatious yet thrilling early days. This piece takes place four days after After. Special thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for beta-ing! Please enjoy!
If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!
Arthur trudged into his apartment, dragging a sopping wet hamper behind him.
Out of Order signs had hung from 225a Anderson Avenue's row of dryers for the better part of two weeks. He'd managed to avoid the basement laundromat, its abandoned bowling alley charms. Scrubbed a stain on his trousers in the sink, soaked t-shirts in a basin with a scoop of Borax. But with the armpits of his cardigans too funky to wear, he'd found himself in a pinch.
His last three quarters had clinked to the bottom of the Speed Queen - and the machine had quit as soon as it'd hit the spin cycle. Not a shock, really. That was the way everything went for good old Arthur Fleck. His minor celebrity status hadn't spun a better thread.
Splats across the basement floor, a puddle in the rickety elevator, streaks down the hall to 8J. A trail of clues for the absent super to follow and lay blame.
Arthur kicked the hamper for bad measure. Water seeped onto the entrance runner. Shoulders sagged under twenty pounds of resignation, a peck of indignation ground his teeth. He shoved another cigarette between his lips and puffed storm clouds from his nose.
Just as he was draping a thermal shirt over the side of the tub, the telephone rang. Scoffing, he grabbed a crumpled pair of briefs.
The hospital had called during skipped breakfast, said his first choice for a home to send Penny to had no space. He'd offered a suggestion ("Can you tell them I was on Murray? Maybe they'll have a bed then."), then told them to try another, any other. A Gotham Hydro bill marked Past Due had put him on notice, but he'd mailed the check two days ago, so whatever. They could leave a message.
But the answering machine didn't answer. It hit him that he'd unplugged it last night, the result of a prank caller asking him to do his dumb laugh. A minute more and the branging and bronging continued, a ring that would ricochet in his skull for hours.
"Fuck," he muttered. Wiping his hands on his pajama bottoms, he charged to the kitchen phone. "Hello?"
"Arthur, hi," Y/N said.
Warmth melted the icicle of frustration lodged in his chest, the out of the blue call instantly easing his load. His girlfriend, a brand-new thread that wound him up in all the right ways. He sighed her name and leaned on the counter as she continued. "Are you busy? I can call later."
"No. No, I'm good. Free, I mean." He tapped his cigarette into a pink ashtray. "You can talk to me now."
"I was wondering if I could have my joke a little earlier today. Patricia is at a conference of counsel on that goddamn Wayne case, and I'm losing my mind."
"Well..." He eyed his wet feet, the puddle he needed to mop up. "What did one washing machine say to the other?" After giving her three chances to guess, he offered the punchline. "This is a draining job." Light laughter on the other end. He grabbed a pencil and jotted the quip before he could forget it.
"Do you want to go out tonight?" she asked. "There's an Italian place a block from me that makes a great chicken parmesan."
He did. But Arthur didn't have to check his wallet to know it was empty. "No, thank you."
A photocopier hummed in the background. "Well, why don't you come over for dinner? Matt won't care if I take a long lunch. I'll throw a soup together in my crockpot, it'll be ready by the time you get there. You could take leftovers."
His eyelids slammed shut, the need to cling to her battling his pride. She'd already paid for lunch last Thursday, bought their movie tickets Saturday, and made dinner that evening. He'd wished her good night and left, heavy steps carrying him back to his place despite her pout that he loved so much. He refused to be the burden on Y/N that he'd been on Penny.
"That's really-" He spoke with the same steadiness he practiced for performances. Gulped against a watery tremor. "That's okay."
"That's okay? Does that mean yes?"
Tongue tied, he swiped at his nose. God, she was stubborn.
The creak of her office chair. Her voice lowered, like she was cupping her hand over the receiver. Throaty and conspiratorial. "Arthur, I've needed you inside me all morning, and I don't see that ache going away without you."
Only his furrowed brow kept his eyes from falling out of his head. His mouth watered at the idea of sharing a meal with her - but not as much as at what she'd just confessed.
God, she was sensational.
Swiping greasy strands of hair from his cheek, he decided to move the laundry from the tub to the sink. "I- I'll be there."
~~~~~
It was breathy and quick, a speed Arthur associated more with first times than sevenths. (He'd been without his meds for about a month and assumed that was at fault.) He blinked at her after he came. Swallowed and squirmed between her legs.
Y/N giggled and washed away his embarrassment. "I'll take that as a compliment," she said, nimble fingers lacing through freshly shampooed locks. Her pelvis canted upward, her mouth striving towards his.
He rolled to her left, to her side of the bed. Turned to study her profile. Her hand was splayed on her sternum, which slowed to rise and fall at an easy pace. He tucked himself under the floral comforter, thicker and softer than anything he had at home.
A few huffs later and she cackled with laughter. "I haven't been this horny in ages."
Parted fingers covered his eyes, a swelling pride permeating bashful chuckles. He hadn't been this horny ever. Yeah, there'd been urges. The same desires as any other man. But getting to know himself as a sexual being, having a sex life, being and having a lover felt like a long-desired suit. A suit he'd finally gotten his hands on and was now learning to tailor.
He folded an arm behind his head. Good thing something this wonderful was free.
She propped herself on her elbow. "We need to catch another movie soon. I keep thinking of you in the theatre, humming along to all the songs. How many times have you seen it?"
Shall We Dance was a perennial favorite, the tale of two dancers driven to marry by spectacle and rumor, who in the end fall in love. "I dunno. Fifty?" It was in constant rotation on GMC, a soundtrack to his growing up.
He nestled back into her pillow. "I used to imagine I was Fred Astaire. That one day I'd meet my Ginger." His face heated at that admission, the fantasies of a schoolboy he carried to this day. But perhaps telling Y/N without hesitation was what intimacy was. What safety and security were supposed to feel like.
"That's a high bar." She rucked the sheet to her armpits. "I hope you're not disappointed."
"No. I'm not," he said, as serious as an NCB interviewee. "You get me."
"You're not that hard to figure out."
"You're perfect."
A grimace flashed across her forehead. "No. I'm not."
Looping an arm about her middle, he tugged her to him. "Well, you're perfect for me."
That appeared to suit her. She snuggled against his side, lay her head on his bare shoulder. He nuzzled at her sepia hair, kissed her brow. His focused stare dwindled, a story unfurling in his heart.
Full page notices of their impending matrimony splashed across the Gotham Examiner, the Gazette, the Globe, papers read by the poor and powerless. The Gotham Times and the Journal, papers read by the prosperous and powerful. Announcements for everyone who'd made fun of him, everyone who'd underestimated him. Hoyt, Randall, Mur-ray. Hell, even Penny, who'd told Y/N she'd never believed he'd find a girlfriend. Treasures he'd tear from the newsprint and paste in his journal. Reminders of all he'd earned, that he'd gotten what he deserved.
Y/N murmured that the pea and ham soup should be done, and his daydream gave way to reality. When she asked why he hadn't wanted to come over, he gave a grunt of acknowledgment but no answer. He let his gaze roam the room, a grounding exercise he'd learned during one of his stints at Arkham State Hospital. A way to make himself present.
A two door in-wall closet was across from the foot of the bed, a walnut bow-back armchair sat in the corner by the door. Against the left wall stood a chest of drawers, on top of which sat a jewelry box, a watch, a vanity mirror, and a hairbrush. Little pieces of her that would be joined by his.
On her nightstand was a ceramic lamp, mauve and round, accompanied by a digital clock radio and a pen. A short stack of softcover books was next to it, five in total. The top book lay open, face down. He cocked his head to read the spine. Loving Someone with Major Depressive Disorder.
"What's this?" he asked, plucking it from the pile.
"A series I'm reading through."
He scanned the other books long enough to catch partial titles. ...someone with manic... ...traumatic stress... ...iety disorder... Manuals of misfortune. He worried the tip of his tongue. "Because of me?"
She ran her palm across his abdomen. "Because I want to do the right thing."
He skimmed the page she'd left off on.
Telling your loved one, "If you'd only try harder" or "Why can't you just be happy?" merely serves to worsen his mental state. Such phrases contribute to the hopelessness and shame a patient is already feeling. It is as useful as telling a cancer patient that with enough positive thinking, he can cure himself.
Y/N would never say anything of the sort. Of that, he was sure. She listened, took him seriously, even when she disagreed. She was as far from Penny as east was from west, a woman who'd slapped him with a nickname and treated him like an invisible man. Y/N having these paperbacks on her nightstand meant that she saw him. That she cared.
That he was the first thing she thought of in the morning and the last each and every night.
He replaced the book, cuddled her closer. "Maybe I should read a law book or something. You know, to learn about your job?" Though he had a vague understanding of her work, knew it had to do with the legal system, the specifics eluded him. She seemed to be detective, secretary, and lawyer all rolled into one.
She pushed herself from the mattress and went to the closet. Pulled the corner chair before it and climbed. He admired the shapeliness of her bottom, the ease of her nakedness.
After some shuffling, she hopped back down and threw on a robe. Returned to his side to hand him a green hardcover with gold lettering: Paralegal Practice and Procedure.
The textbook was lead in his hands, the thickest he'd ever held. He flipped to the last page. Glimpsed the size ten font and page number 356. Twitchy fingertips drummed the cover. "Can I- Can I borrow it?"
"Of course," she answered, and set it aside. She drew a line down his forehead. "I'll dogear the important parts. You can always ask me about it, too. I'd like that."
Long eyelashes cast a shadow on his cheeks. "What's the hardest case you've had?"
"The Wayne case." Her trail continued along the bridge of his nose.
"And the best?"
Her breath brushed his face. She followed the groove that ran from his nose to his mouth. "The Wayne case," she said with unexpected warmth. Her thumb traced the scar on his upper lip.
On a flinch, he seized her hand. Thought to move it away, to a smoother part of his body. The sharp plain of his cheek, the swell of his bicep, the sinewy inside of his thigh. Places she loved to caress, spots he'd accepted she admired.
But her kind expression, soft yet inquisitive, forced him to reconsider.
For the most part, the scar didn't bother him, though it could be a pain to shave around. Its origins were unknown. If it was a parting gift from one of Penny's boyfriends, or if he'd been born with it. If he'd been malformed in the womb. The flaw was visible for everyone to see in the same way his laughing condition was audible for everyone to hear.
No one had gone out of the way to touch it. To touch him. People had avoided him his whole life. Gossiped behind his back after he'd pass, scoffed when he'd offer his laminated card. The strangeness of this woman diving into him was hard to take.
Was it possible for vulnerability to no longer invite further pain?
A quick blink against the wetness flooding his eyes. His heart beating against hers. He pressed her to the scar, tilted upward into her grasp. Not trying to halt the watery tremor in his words, Arthur whispered what he'd longed to since she'd returned to him. Since he'd taken her on his kitchen floor.
"I- I'm in love with you."
Beaming, Y/N twined her legs with his, her center damp on his thigh. "You're one of the best things that's ever happened to me." Her thumb dragged along the scar once more. "I'm in love with you, too."
She bent to kiss it, then kissed him. Full and wet and sweet and the whole world.
~~~~~
Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes @fleckficgirl
#arthur fleck#arthur fleck fanfic#joker 2019#arthur fleck x ofc#arthur fleck x reader#arthur fleck x female reader#watchwhathappens
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Wildest Dreamings
So much happened before Elphaba went off to see the Wizard.
The Land of What-Might-Have-Been will unfold as a two-part narrative, reading between the lines to reveal the complete love story of Elphaba Thropp and Fiyero Tigelaar. This fic is primarily inspired by the musical and its film adaptation, with literary influences throughout. Wildest Dreamings will cover the canon events of Part/Act 1, expanding upon the characters and relationships we know and love.
READ ON AO3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2: Conferring with the Foliage
Fiyero Tigelaar had no idea where he was going.
He and Feldspur had been traveling for hours along the Gillikin River, but as swirling trees took over the landscape and the sky grew darker, his sense of geography was shot.
His inability to find the place was already making him resentful of Shiz University and all that lay within it. There couldn’t possibly be anything life-changing waiting for him on the campus grounds, and he had long abandoned the sense of hope that came with a new school.
Following his failed stint at the Academy, his mother and father had warned him that this was his last chance at a “good education,” whatever that meant. It had become quite clear to him that formal institutions of learning had nothing of value to teach, and even if they did, he wasn’t capable of understanding them.
Frustrated, he urged Feldspur to a gallop. If he got lost enough, maybe he could avoid Shiz altogether and take on a new identity as a rogue gallivanter. At this point, even a life of crime sounded better than the torture of academia.
He was so deep in these ruminations that he didn’t see the green girl crossing his path, too lost in her own worries to notice she was about to be run over.
Feldspur stopped short just before they collided, but she was so startled that she toppled over onto the forest floor.
“ Woah there, woah!” Fiyero called out, trying to catch a glimpse of his near victim.
“I did not see her,” explained a spooked Feldspur. “Yeah, neither did I!”
From his vantage point, her face was still hidden, but as she pulled herself up, he couldn’t help but notice the rather pleasant shape of her backside. He scolded himself for such ungentlemanly thoughts, and dismounted Feldspur, who also tried to remind him of his manners.
“You might want to, um… you know…” “Ok, yeah.”
He moved towards the girl as she brushed off her tumble, extending his hand in case she needed assistance. He was prepared to feel terrible if he’d actually brought her harm.
“I’m so sorry miss, I didn’t see you there, you must have..”
As soon as he spoke, she turned towards him. The moonlight finally revealed her face, and Fiyero was dumb-stricken.
“...blended with the foliage.”
He realized instantly how stupid he sounded, but prayed that maybe this green girl would find his idiocy at least a little bit charming.
She did not.
“Is this how you go through life? Just running amuck and trampling anyone in your path?”
Fiyero was as taken aback by her words as he was by her complexion, and he panicked. “No…”
He could hear Feldspur chuckling at his expense, so clearly he was embarrassing himself, but some terrible instinct within told him to attempt humor again. “No, sometimes I’m asleep.”
He tried to signal to her that laughter was the appropriate response, but she merely stared at him in mild disgust. With a deep sigh, she launched into her well rehearsed introduction.
“Alright, here we go. No, I’m not seasick.” They were firmly on land, why would she be seasick? “Neither am I,” he assured her.
She stepped closer to him as she spoke, which might have been intimidating if she wasn’t so petite.
“No. I did not eat grass as a child.” She had to be toying with him now. “Oh you didn’t? I did!”
“And yes, I have always been green.”
It was the way she said that last bit, like she was preparing for mockery. He was intrigued.
“And the defensiveness? Is that a recent development?”
Fiyero knew he’d finally said something clever, because she narrowed her eyes at him without response. He gave her his best smolder, historically foolproof, but she was immune.
As she turned to pick up her fallen lantern, Feldspur trotted up behind him, chortling at Fiyero’s utter failure to charm this young woman. He shushed his companion, but when he turned to face the green girl again, she looked at him with such disappointment it almost made him feel guilty. Surely she didn’t think they were laughing at her?
Feldspur whispered, “Should we ask her for directions?” which brought him back to his current predicament. He couldn’t very well expose his navigational woes to this girl who clearly hated him, but maybe there was a way to solve both of his problems.
“I’m off for some more trampling, may we offer you a ride?”
Her strut was aggressive as she left him behind, and she answered without so much as a glance back, “No thanks. Get stuffed.”
He watched her walk away, trying not to be bothered by her rejection.
“Wow, Feldspur, we have just been spurned by a girl.” “Ah, indeed.”
Shrugging off the ego hit, he smirked. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Mounting Feldspur, he figured if he followed the general direction of the green girl, he’d find his way eventually.
As he rode, their collision replaying in his mind, he realized that he forgot to ask for the pretty foliage’s name. Who was that sweet creature he’d almost trampled?
Fiyero hoped he might run into her again.
#wicked#wicked 2024#wicked fanfiction#fiyeraba#fiyero x elphaba#fiyero tigelaar#elphaba thropp#fiyeraba fic#wicked musical
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For the secretary au I wonder what would happen if Jason ever had to take Damian to the office for any reason like he was sick and really clingy or the babysitter had to cancel last minute (also I hope this doesn't bother you and if it does feel free to ignore it)
Chances are that if Damian is sick, Jason will take time off until his boy is back in good health. Damian and his well-being takes precedent over everything for Jason, so regardless of the situation/circumstances, Jason is staying at Damian's side. Damn anyone that tries to take him away, too.
The first time Jason calls out of work, it's with little explanation. Bruce receives a text/email explaining that Jason needs to take a sick day. And of course Bruce frets, but he lets it go with a simple, 'Understood. Feel better.'
Then Jason calls out again the next day and Bruce immediately gets so intense about it. Like there's an actual aura coming from his office as he sits at his desk and doesn't do any work because he's brooding behind the steeple of his hands.
He's using every bit of willpower not to overstep bounds to go and see Jason and bring him a care package or a doctor and--
Tim heaving the greatest of sighs because it's probably a cold, just give him a few days to recover. Stop being weird.
But then another day passes and Jason is still calling out sick and suddenly Tim is right there alongside Bruce, sat across from him at his desk. And they stew together and contemplate their game plan.
They conference call Alfred and Dick to loop them in to this really deep, convoluted plan (courtesy of Tim, who steamrolls the conversation; Bruce is so on board though - the true disaster duo) to check in on Jason and get him help; Bruce has his concierge doctor on call, so—
Alfred chiming in because, 'Or you could message him on his condition, sirs.' Or if Jason needs anything.
Which strikes Bruce and Tim dumb because, yeah. That's a real well-adjusted way of doing it. Huh. Cue embarrassed CEO and COO who stay suspiciously quiet because such a simple thing didn't make its way into any of their considerations/plans
So Dick interrupts because he's already done the above. Back on day one. You know. Like the average person does?
Tim grumbling about how Dick is far from average. Meanwhile Bruce is back to being intense because, 'what is his status?'
Long story short: Damian is down with a cold/flu; Jason is taking care of him.
Bruce stating that he's contacting the concierge doctor immediately; they can get Damian in to a pediatrician at the nearest children's hospital and—
Alfred cutting Bruce off by asking Dick if Jason needs help. Because Alfred is happy to assist.
And Dick lets them both down easy, because he's got it under control
Which. What? Traitor.
Just Dick already being there to help out. Running errands and taking care of Jason while Jason is busy caring for Damian. Maybe a bit of Dick looking after Damian, too ;U;
Ffffffff just the cuteness of Dick seeing Jason care for Damian and being reminded of how his mother used to look after Dick, way back when. The softness, the fretting. Forehead kisses to check for fever, fingers combed through sweat mussed hair. Lukewarm towels to heated skin and gentle soothing with the coming of chills and the desire for heat. Just little back rubs and assurances until Damian dozes off from exhaustion.
And the sweetness of Dick going to buy medicine and making sure Jason is taken care of, too. Cutting fruits or bringing easy meals. Cleaning up when Damian gets sick over himself and the floor ;n; Holding Damian to his chest while they're all on the couch so that Jason can doze for just a few minutes (only for Jason to wake a couple hours later to Dick walking slow through the apartment, Damian's head cradled to his chest as he talks at him, voice low and calm and steady enough to help Damian drift back off)
Something something Jason resting his head against the back of the couch and watching them fondly. And when Dick realizes that Jason is awake and watching, he smiles but carries on as he was
Sitting at the table, slouched over cups of coffee after putting Damian down in his bed to rest properly. And Jason thanking Dick for the help, but he doesn't need to put himself out for them
Only Dick isn't. Not at all
Then they talk. Quiet in the low light of the kitchen, in those hours between late and early.
(Specific talking point: slipped comment on how certain things Jason did reminded Dick of his mom. And Dick is so fond that Jason feels something like pride—so flattered he might be endeared. It's such a sweet comparison to draw, especially since Dick holds his parents in such high regard)
(Other talking point: Jason asking if Dick has kids because he's really good with them. Which Dick huffs a laugh about and tells Jason no (and it sounds a little sad, a little melancholic because infertile!Dick Grayson agenda, yep). Which Jason thinks is a shame. He'd make a good parent. And the sentiment wounds Dick so much it's so sweet ;3;).
Anyway, Dick relays to the family that Damian is just about recovered. And that Jason should be back to work soon. And that it'd be a real shame if he came back to a ton of work that the CEO and COO couldn't get done in his absence. ◉‿◉
Alternative sick!Damian situations, or just a continuation from the above:
Where Alfred offers to look after Damian (after he recovers from the worst of the cold/flu and is on the mend)
Jason being reluctant because he doesn't want to put Damian's fussiness on anyone, let alone Alfred
Although nearly back to 100%, Damian gets clingy and ornery after he's been sick and once Jason returns to not being available all hours
But Alfred insists because that's his grandson it doesn't matter how fussy he is he raised Bruce; he's got this
Which makes Jason snicker and eventually relent
At which point Alfred gets quality time with Damian and although Damian sleeps most of the time, Alfred is 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ about it
As for Damian being at WE...
It's an anticipated visit and Damian dresses for business, toddler/small child though he may be lol
He's well behaved because Jason asks him to be, spending most of his time drawing
When anyone dares to approach Jason's desk though, the Al Ghul demon glare comes out and scares them off hahaha
Since Damian is tucked away behind him, Jason wouldn't notice. He'd just be confused because usually his co-workers put up a bit more of a fight?
It's Tim who overhears about the cutest guard dog sitting at Jason's workstation -- so protective and sweet! Sometimes coworkers walk that direction just to see the sour expression that takes over Damian's features. Then they'll leave and laugh over how sweet it is.
Tim witnessing the intense scowl for himself and grimacing because wtf, there's nothing cute about that it's so intimidating??
======
Thank you for the ask!! It wasn't a bother at all. This was really fun to reply to, so thank you again. Sorry for the delay though. <3
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Bankman-Fried isn’t a true believer in anything, really, but he definitely wasn’t a true believer in crypto or its apostles: after he meets Zhao, at a conference, he observes, “CZ sort of just says things. They aren’t dumb. They aren’t smart.”
The main requirement for his board members—the other two of whom he was unable to name—was that “they don’t mind DocuSigning at three a.m. DocuSigning is the main job.”
ok you kinda have to hand it to him on these ones
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REQUESTTTT The reader is a new teacher at UA and tries getting on all the teachers good side but aizawa is so good at keeping his emotions hidden she doesn’t know if he likes her. After the training camp incident they move into dorms and she lives with aizawa but they have seperate rooms to sleep in but everything else is shared. And during this time Aizawa “hating” her more as he always lectures her and gets mad at her so she’s convinced he practically hates her. She ends up hating him too cause he starts making her do more work. He ends up training her and she hates him even more since he wasn’t going easy and just gave her bruises or something. Then one day she was in the lounge room for their shared dorm area and she was doing something and aizawa helps her do it and BAM. she develops a crush and…. (Add ur own ending and twists because I know I’ll love it 💕💗) (also sorry this is long)
omg this seems so cute in a like, angry old man way if that makes sense LMAO, I hope you don't mind that I gave reader a quirk,,,,I felt it wouldn't make sense if she didn't
Hating You As Well
PT1(right here ^*^), PT2, PT3
You were honestly just trying to make some friends at work, but this one guy is just soo RRRR, how are you supposed to deal with that?
(i didn't want to make him too mean, but I didn't want to make him nice, obviously, so instead he's socially awkward and stand-offish and dumb, I hope that's not too far off from what you wanted ^-^)
Fem!Reader, She/Her pronouns
TW: slight, very slight angst i guess, arguing, semi depictions of violence and gore, stupid aizawa
UA.
It was the top hero school in all of Japan, and thanks to people like All Might, known in high regard nationally.
So, when you got your call back that you got accepted as the history teacher, you actually screamed. Literally jumping up and down, screaming and crying in pure, unfiltered happiness that you got the job. Of course, you opened your phone to tell someone, anyone, that you got your literal dream job, but you stopped. It's not that you didn't have anyone to tell, it's just that you didn't have anyone who wasn't your family to tell. For a second, it saddened you, but you didn't wallow in your sadness, no! Right then and there, you promised yourself that you'd befriend everyone you could at UA, even the terrifying principle.
So that's how you got here, holding the biggest plate filled with snacks from peanuts to cake while nervously walking into the conference room.
Principal Nedzu had given you a personal tour of the school after he called you, but you had personally never met the other staff members. You can't help but think your principal did that on purpose. After wandering for a short moment, you were still new so you deserved some slack, you found your destination. But something held you back, standing awkwardly in front of the door. You could hear the muffled voices and music coming from the room, its friendly aura spilling out from the hallway.
You were only a little nervous, years of being a high-ranking pro instilled a natural confidence in you, but the small thought of not making any friends slightly unnerved you. Well, better get on with it. You took a deep breath and opened the door, and while the music didn't stop, you felt like it did.
All eyes were on you in an instant, the chatter ceased and everyone turned to look at you.
After a pregnant pause, you spoke up first. "This...is the staff party, right?" Your voice came out squeaker than you wanted to, and the answer to your question seemed rather obvious.
"Yeah it is! You must be the newbie, right?" Present Mic was the first to speak up, his smile wide and infectious. Others giggled around them, all the attention on you was less negative and more positive, a newfound excitement in the air.
"Yes, I'm unfortunately the newbie. Can I set this down anywhere?" You lifted up your large platter of food, and the loud blonde practically drooled.
"I'll take that from you." He swiftly took the food out of your hands and started digging in while trying to find a place to set it down.
Midnight strolled up to you, a small smile on her face. "I'm Nemuri Kayama. Don't worry, you're not the only new staff member this year. Not only do we have All Might, but we have Toshinori Yagi too. Yagis kinda shy, he's just been kinda hanging out in the back." Kayama nodded her head to the far right corner, where the aforementioned man was just...standing alone, almost literally in the corner.
"Oh, well, that makes me feel a little better." You hid your guilty smile with your hands, not only were you glad that you weren't the only new staff member, but that you weren't the most awkward one in the room.
"Plus, it's great to have another girl on the team, it's a real sausage fest in here." She groaned, dramatically holding her head in her hand. Looking around, you realized she was right. There was a 1:9 female-to-male ratio. The male staff members greatly outnumbered the female to an embarrassing degree, but it made sense. Males unfairly dominated the hero field, and even if there was a strong female pro hero, more often than not, she was either treated as a joke or made to be crazy masculine. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but more often than not, it's not by choice, since to be taken seriously, they have to act meaner and tougher than originally wanted.
"I see what you mean, Jesus." There was a playful tone in your voice, showing no real contempt or malice.
"I'm the modern art history teacher, by the way, in case you didn't know." Kayama fully introduced herself, holding out her hand for you to shake. You gratefully took it, marveling at just how soft her hand was.
"Oh! I'll be the new history teacher, guess we're kind of twins. And I'm sorry to fangirl, but I really appreciate all your work." You gushed unashamed.
"Oh I don't mind, I also really appreciate your work! Your quirk is rather interesting, and the way you handle yourself out there is nothing to scoff at." Kayama smiled, giving you the same energy as you put out.
You blushed, compliments like that were not unusual but from one of your idols, no less? It was like a dream come true.
"Thank you, it just comes naturally, you know?" You tried to wave her off, basically saying it's nothing compared to you.
Your quirk was rather unconventional in what it was. You could manipulate the light around you, bending and manipulating the light waves and atoms. You could literally touch rays of light and bend it like a straw, plus you could take it away and 'store it' in your body. It was funny when you took too much because you became a living nightlight. Though to do it, you needed to be physically touching the rays, so you wore a rather lightweight suit with no gloves and no shoes. Hey, who needs to walk on water when you could walk on light?
Your suit was rather skimpy, maybe a reason that both you and Kayama attracted each other. You basically wore a swimsuit, with a crop top shirt that stopped at your shoulders, and basically boy short underwear for a bottom. However, you could barely see your 'pants' because of the pockets that lined the entire thing. Another cool thing you could do with your quirk is you could store the light in physical pockets that you had.
"Well, I'd only assume. I'm glad that someone like you is on the team, and I'm sure I'm not the only one." Kayama looked over your shoulder, and just as you were about to turn to where she was looking, strong arms almost tipped you over.
"Heya newbie!" A light and bubbly voice yelled in your ear, you could only wonder who it was. Peeking over, Present Mic was smiling in your face, spikey hair and sunglasses almost directly in your face. "I'm Hizashi Yamada, and I don't really care for formalities, so you can just call me Hizashi!" He pushed himself off of you and was pumping up his arms in the air. Hizashi still had some crumbs on his face, and you couldn't help but laugh at his outlandish introduction.
Soon after him, one by one each staff member introduced themselves formally, telling you their real names and what they teach. In turn, you gushed and fawned over each one, calm but bright energy attracting everyone to you. Like moths to a light. Heh, get it?
Still, it was great. Even the shy Yagi comes up to you to politely introduce himself, an unspoken bond formed because it was both your first year teaching.
All but one.
A grumpy sleeping bag resting below an open window pointedly ignored all the noise and commotion going on. Determined, you walked over and leaned over the yellow lump to see if a person was even in there.
"Yes?" A dark voice drawled, and in an anti-climatic movement, the sleeping back slowly turned over. You were greeted with the image of a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with dark wild hair and a patchy 5 o'clock shadow. You nearly jumped back, but you kept your composure. You leaned over with your hands on your hips, your stomach pudging at the position.
"I was just checking if you were a person." A heavy cough behind you made you flinch, "If you were a living creature." You could hear a small 'better!' from somewhere in the background. You could swear there was a flash of a smirk on the mysterious man's face. But just as soon as it was there, it was gone in an instant.
"Well, I'm alive if that's what you're wondering." He quickly turned over, but you didn't move away. In fact, you stayed in the same exact position. "What?" His muffled voice made you giggle, and you stood up to stretch your back.
"I don't know your name. I can introduce myself first if you want?" You offered, trying not to seem as stand-offish as he was.
"I'm Ereaserhead. A homeroom teacher." That was all he offered of himself.
Hizashi popped up from behind you, pulling you away from the grump. "That's Shouta Aizawa, don't mind him, he's always this cranky."
You smiled and shook your head, "I don't mind, he seems interesting." Shrugging your shoulders as you walked away, you missed the rustling of his sleeping bag as he turned to watch you walk away.
___________________________________________
Turns out, Shouta Aizawa was interesting. Also, a major asshole, give or take.
All the teachers were stationed to watch different cameras for the entrance exam. Of course, there were hundreds of other workers with designated cameras and areas, the teachers were mostly there to get an overview and get a general of the upcoming class of students. You and Hizashi happily discussed what students you both wanted, Aizawa was muttering on how reckless and idiotic they all were.
"Hey c'mon dude, give them a break! Most of them don't even know what they're doing." You tried, leaning back in your rolly chair to take a peek at him. Aizawa barely spared you a glance, angrily sipping at his coffee.
"That's the problem, they're clueless and delusional. Especially that one, he's an idiot for going after the zero-point robot, and it's the only robot he's gone after." He pointed to a glowing student flying up in the air, the boy reeled his arm back to deliver a K.O punch to the thing.
"Hey, but he'll get points for saving a young girl." Hizashi butted in, normally spiked hair down and flowing all over the place.
"Really?" You turned back to the screen to watch a young girl get up to try and thank him, but he was out cold. "Well, even if he is a little clueless, he showed great effort and quick thinking to save a girl." You shrugged, looking back at Aizawa.
He scoffed and turned back to flickering through the cameras, taking notes along the way.
You made a face behind the underground heroes' back, before going back to take your own notes.
Later, Aizawa would review the footage of that mysterious green-haired boy to watch just how 'heroic' he was.
___________________________________________
Not soon enough, classes started. You met lots of odd and interesting students, their quirks just as amazing as the next. Each of them was either fascinated or bored with your existence, gushing about the former 30th hero. Teachers and underground heroes were placed on a different scale than billboard heroes since there wouldn't be a fair grading process. Not only did they gush about you, but they also talked about with great vigor their other classes and teachers.
This meant you quickly made aware of how Aizawa decided to conduct his first day as a teacher. Now, you knew Aizawa had been a teacher longer than you, and UA was very free with how a teacher conducted their class, but you were shocked he threatened to expel an entire class of students. His own for god sake!
(Un)Fortunately, both you and Aizawa had a free period at the same time, and you tried to take advantage of this fact.
"Sooo, some of our students talked about their first day." You started awkwardly, fiddling with your papers.
Aizawa looked over at you through a jelly packet and papers, nearly quirking an eyebrow in response.
"Did you really threaten to expel them?" You asked, a little taken aback at the mere mention of it.
"Yes, not only did I see how they performed under duress, but I saw what giving their all looks like." The whole time he spoke he was entirely focused on the papers in front of him, trying to grade the papers he already handed out the first week of school.
"Oh! That's smart, not only can you weed out all the lackluster students, you'll be able to tell when they're slacking." You snapped your fingers in recognition, proud of yourself for figuring out his odd teaching methods.
Aizawa merely grunted in response, ending the conversation with an odd air. You tapped your knees while trying to find another conversation opener.
"Hey, you know, Kayama invited us all for drinks on Friday. Celebrate the new school year, are you coming?" Truly, you did wonder if the mysterious man would go. The R-rated hero made a group chat and already asked everyone. Aizawa had just never responded, and you kinda had a feeling what his answer would be.
"I have better things to do." He grumbled, and he stood up, gathered all his papers, and just left.
"What the hell?"
___________________________________________
Turns out, no he didn't.
You had turned up fashionably late, and almost all of the staff were already there when you arrived. Shouta showed up disastrously late, stumbling in sometime after you. He slid into the booth across from you, flagging down a waiter for just a boring beer.
"I thought you had better things to do?" You questioned Aizawa, sipping at whatever fruity drink Hizashi made you try.
"I did, but those two wouldn't stop pestering me." Aizawa nodded to Kayama and Hizashi next to you, who were already buzzed and very happy.
Even at the mere mention of him, Hizashi perked up and grinned mischievously at Aizawa.
"That's not true! You just wanted to find an excuse to hang out with the new teacher!" Hizashi teased, eyebrows wiggling up and down.
Aizawa scoffed, "
"I don’t need to kiss ass with my coworkers. I’m only here to be kept in the loop of the going on here.” He muttered into his cup, face hidden by the large utensil.
Okay, wow, rude much? You rolled your eyes, “You don’t need to be an ass.” You muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anything.
“No, but I do need to be professional.” Aizawa shot back, face now in full view. He had his hair up, fringe not held down by his messy bun.
Your shoulders slouched while you gave him a ‘dude what?” look. “I've been nothing but cordial to you and others.”
“Your carefree attitude is nothing other than annoying.” Aizawa had his arms crossed now, leaning back in the booth. Everyone else was either pointedly ignoring you or just too wrapped up in their conversations to notice or care about you two.
“I've been in the top fifty before I became a teacher, I’ve seen my fair share of blood and glory. I’m sorry I’m not a robot when it comes to my students.” Scoffing, you rolled your eyes and downed the rest of your drink, its sweet flavor dampening your bad mood.
“I’m a realist, bite me.”
“You’re a pessimist, there is a difference.”
There was a heavy silence after that, Aizawa staring you down while you glared back. Neither of you broke eye contact, even when Hizashi made you get up to use the restroom, you still didn’t quit the staredown.
Fed up with the growing anger in your chest, and feeling the light around you start to bend around you, you slammed down what you owed and left.
You heard a drunk chasting voice as you left, but the steam pouring out of your ears prevented you from hearing it clearly.
___________________________________________
The last time you two talked was just as short and snappy as the last time, except now he was definitely on his high horse. He criticized your teaching methods, which pissed you off to no end because it was fucking Shouta Aizawa we were talking about, criticized how you acted, hell, he even criticized how you dressed.
You had been minding your business, making a new pot of coffee to keep you awake during the day. Footsteps behind you caught your attention, but you ignored them because you knew who it was and would rather die than deal with him right now.
“I still don’t understand how they let you walk around like that.”
Okay, ignoring over.
You turned to give him a nasty look. “Like what?”
“With barely any clothes on. What you’re wearing could be considered underwear, not a hero suit. There's no coverage.” Even though he was critiquing what you were wearing, he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, he was digging in the cabinets for a cup.
“And? This is what works best for my quirk, plus,” you laughed, but there was no real humor in it, “I’ve seen worse.”
“I have no idea how you’ve made it this far with such little clothing.” Aizawa shook his head like he was disappointed in you for your clothes.
“Because clothes don’t matter, it’s who's wearing them that does.” You growled, angrily pouring your cup before stomping out of the room.
That was the last conversation you had before he went off to the USJ trip. Like always it was short and angry, a routine you’d unwillingly created. Truly, Aizawa was the only teacher you didn’t get along with, all the others from Hizashi to even Lunch Rush you had become friends with. Still, now you felt guilty about it. You had arrived late in regards to everyone else, blinding and emancipating a fair amount of stranglers but otherwise caught off guard by the situation. Thankfully, students were mostly unharmed, but the two teachers who had been there had been gravely injured. You only saw a glimpse of Aizawa's injuries, but your mind jumped to conclusions when you saw Kurose’s.
You had visited Kurose earlier, giving her flowers, candy, and books to read while she recovered. For Aizawa, you managed to find out he liked black licorice, so you brought a large bag along with yellow roses. Friendship.
You arrived at his room and stood there for a moment. There was silence on the other end, save for the small and quiet beep beep beep of his heart monitor. So he lives.
You raised a hand and knocked.
“No more visitors.” He sighed from the other end, already annoyed.
You debated on just leaving, but for some reason, you opened the door and peeked in.
“It’s just me.” Your voice was small, and your eyes quickly assessed the state your asshole coworker was in.
“I said no visitors.” Aizawa's voice was just as deadpanned, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was scowling under all those bandages. His arms were cast, almost like prison cuffs rather than healing objects. Nearly his whole body was covered in white, almost blinding you.
“Well, I’m not a visitor, I’m a coworker.” You set down the flowers and candy at the table next to him and sat down in the chair across from him. Disgustingly, there was still warmth in it, and looking over to the second chair you could see the wrinkles in the seat.
“You’re an annoyance.” His bitterness came naturally, you realized now, that even when he was gravely hurt, he still managed to get under your skin.
"Is it so annoying that I wanted to see if my coworker was alive?" You asked, already pissed off.
"Well, I am, so you can leave." Aizawa tried to sit up fully, but he struggled to do so.
It was too awkward to just watch him struggle so pitifully, a man you've come to know with high pride and honor squirming around. So you got up and pressed a gentle hand on his back to guide him up, neither of you said anything while he adjusted. When Aizawa got comfortably situated, there was an awkward silence.
"How…how long are you gonna be bed-bound?"
Aizawa didn't reply right away, leaving the question to awkwardly hang in the air.
"Doctor says it typically takes twelve weeks for an arm to heal, but they can cut that time in half." His gruff voice was soft, and it was the most open thing he's said about himself since you've known him.
"I hope it doesn't take that long! I have to give up my lunch to watch your class." You tried to jest, obviously attempting to lighten the mood.
"It won't, wouldn't want you to overload your work schedule." Aizawa's deep voice was back, just as guarded as usual.
That was the breaking point, and before you said something cruel to the injured man you simply got up and headed to the door. "Just get well man." And with that, you left.
"Damn it."
___________________________________________
He came back the next day.
"What the hell man?!" You barged into Aizawa's room angrily, greeted by the sight of Hizashi force-feeding him some sort of hearty meal.
Aizawa turned to look at you, eyes visible through the bandages.
"What?"
"You're back? You said that the doctors said-"
"It would take him a minimum of six weeks to heal! We know!" Hizashi scolded, tense and angry.
"But no one can stop Aizawa, we just have to make him relax." Kayama scolded, going through his class papers. "I'll grade your quizzes, Hizashi can grade your tests and you can grade his assignments, can't you?" The dominatrix was looking at you now, holding stacks of papers that Aizawa had yet to catch up on, now made impossible with his injuries.
"How does a single man have so much work?" You set the tea you had been saving for the aforementioned man. You had barely made it this morning, something healthy to sip on while he healed. Quickly walking over you leafed through all the miscellaneous assignments both he and All Might had assigned. “I can do all of these no sweat.” You shrugged, taking them all under your arm.
“I’m fine. You’re all overreacting-”
“Don’t even say you’re fine! You just got out of the hospital!” All three of you yelled at him in disbelief. The sliding doors slid open once more, and Recoverys girl's small form waddled through, looking just angry and as disappointing as you all felt.
Wanting to get a jumpstart on grading papers, since you already had your won to grade, you walked out of the room in silence, not wanting to intrude on this unfamiliar song and dance.
___________________________________________
The next two weeks the students were buzzing with excitement, and you saw even less of Aizawa. Always just holed up in his room.
For some reason, you always left him a pot of coffee for him to drink on his desk. He never questioned it or brought it up. You never said anything either.
___________________________________________
When Aizawa fully recovered, he immediately took back all his work. He stopped by your classroom during both of your lunches.
You hadn’t even noticed him walking in, too busy with eating and marking papers with a glitter purple pen, leaving critiques, praises, hearts, and X’s
“You can stop ruining my papers with that horrible pen.” You jumped, almost falling back in your seat at the unexpected sound of Aizawa’s voice.
“Ruining? I’m decorating. I’m sorry you take even grading so seriously.” You shrugged, putting the finishing touches on Shouto Todoroki’s paper. Ending it with a ‘Good job! :D’
“It’s a distraction, you could use the effort you put in desecrating these papers into your job.” He took the paper up from your desk, skimming it before he looked at you again and sighed. “Where are the leftovers.”
“Leftovers?”
“The ones you didn’t finish, the leftovers.” He pressed like you were stupid.
You leaned back, a sense of pride and smugness filling you. “Check the date.” You smirked, eyes sharp and dangerous.
Aizawa stared at you with an unreadable expression, but you saw his eyebrows furrow just a little. He took a glance down and his eyes widened in surprise.
2XXX/5/06
Today.
“Well, then you better catch up on your own work. It’s foolish that you-”
You cut him off by showing your turn-in/graded basket, the graded side completely full.
“Try again.” Your smirk widened, hands raising in a flourish while you leaned back again.
He said nothing while his eyes flickered between all the papers in front of him, and he lifted his head again. “Then you’re probably behind on reports, those are important-”
You cut him off again, turning your computer towards him so he could see not only your completed progress reports but his as well.
“Boom bitch.” For once, you had the upper hand, getting to gloat in his face while he had nothing to say back.
“You shouldn’t use such foul language in the workplace.” Was all he could say while he gathered his papers. On his way out you called out to no one in particular.
“You’re welcome! Ah, whatever.”
You stretched your aching hands, and drank your third energy drink for the day, stomach protesting from so much caffeine on an empty stomach. You dreaded your hero shift later.
___________________________________________
There was an impromptu meeting, and at first, you were confused about what it was about, but you knew whatever it was, it was serious.
Everyone's somber faces made you nervous, and you leaned over to Hizashi and whispered in his ear. “What happened?”
“Apparently, something happened during the students' work studies, but no one can figure out what happened.” He shrugged, just as lost and unnerved you.
Aizawa stood up from the U-shaped table, going to stand in the middle while he looked off angry at nothing. “There was an incident during our first-year students' work studies. Three studies were put in harms way, coming face to face with the hero killer: Stain.”
People started to murmur, but Principal Nedzu popped up from the depths of the erasing hero's scarf.
“Now we understand your concern, as you know the situation has been dealt with. We’ve been asked by the HPSC to keep quiet and have no comment. The affected students will remain anonymous, so even if you do figure out what happened, you are required to keep quiet. You are all dismissed.” The hyperintelligent mouse hopped down and sauntered out of the room. Many staff members followed, murmuring in small groups. You, Kayama, Kurose, Hizashi, and Snipe formed your own group, staying behind to talk within yourselves.
“I knew it was a bad idea for the students to be sent off, I argued with the idea before, and now I see I should’ve fought harder.” Snipe shook his head in both frustration and disappointment.
“Well, what happened was unfortunate, but it gave other students a light into real hero work. Hard times come with drastic measures.” Kayama rebutted, though one could tell to some degree she agreed with the gun hero.
“But they’re so young, such traumatizing events should be saved for their later years.” Yamda’s voice was laced with an old sadness, and Kayama’s face fell crestfallen.
“I agree, I hope those students are well now.” You began, but the conversation was cut short by the sound of everyone's next period beginning. You waved your little group goodbye, turning around to pick up your bag and papers.
“Gossiping is unbecoming.”
You shook your head, annoyance once again festering at you. It seemed like even when you heard his voice at this point, anger consumed you. “So is lying.”
“Who lied?” Aizawa’s voice was full of disbelief, taken aback.
“The HPSC. We’re supposed to be quiet that three of our students were put in danger.” You turned around once all your papers were gathered, and you stared the man down.
“That’s not lying, we are merely setting measures to make sure the situation doesn’t get out of hand.” He shook his head like the answer was simple.
“Omitting information is lying under the law, do their parents know?”
“The affected students' parents were made aware, yes.” His monotone voice was really starting to piss you off.
“So none of the other parents know? And to what degree do they know?” For some reason you dragged out this conversation, it didn’t really matter how long this conversation went on anyway, thanks to the free period.
“That’s not your place to know.” He made no move to leave.
“It is, they’re my students too.” Taking a step forward, encroaching into his personal space, you puffed up your chest. Challenging him.
“You’re an elective teacher, they’re my students, under my care.” Aizawa didn’t back down.
“So then why did it even happen in the first place? Why send out fifteen-year-olds with a murderer on the loose?” You argued back.
“Because I didn’t know. I would’ve never let them out if I had known. Your foolishness will be the death of not only you but the students here as well.” He snapped back, violently grabbing his coffee cup, and stormed out.
His words rang over and over in your ears, and for some reason shame and anger mixed in your stomach, twisting at your insides. Stomping out of the room when you snapped out of your trance, you realized guilt also twisted up inside you.
___________________________________________
Last minute, you were invited to the training camp. At first, you were going to refuse, spend your summer break dealing with the chaotic kids that were class 1-A and 1-B? Yeah, hell no. But the promise of a pay raise eventually won you over, even if you deny this. Plus, recently you have been..lacking in your skills. So busy with being a teacher your fighting skills had diminished, and it wasn’t as if you were now suddenly helpless. You just weren’t at your peak anymore, and all you needed was that extra exercise to put that pep back in your step. So thats how you found yourself packing in the early hours of the morning to pack for the four-week-long trip.
Later in the morning, you found out who you’d be busing with. Class 1-A, or, more specifically, Shouta Aizawa. You immediately turned around at the school gates, but the sounds of students jeering at you stopped you.
“Where are you going teach?” Kaminari called after you, and Iida chastised him for the informal name.
“It’s alright Iida, I don't mind.” You placated the blue-haired boy and turned your attention back to the electric student. “Nowhere, I got roped along to the trip.” You sighed bowing your head in defeat.
“Don’t act that way, we were promised extra pay and you were the first to respond.” Aizawa chastised you, coming up from behind you all, carrying a heavy duffle bag. Even his choice of luggage was bare bones!
Kaminari gasped in hurt, holding a hand over his heart.
“No need to call me out in front of the students!” You growled, shooing him away.
___________________________________________
It took nearly an hour to corral all the students on the bus, and you and Aizawa settled at the front of the bus, both in opposite seats. You waited for the bus to get on the road, and for the students to be too distracted to notice the conversation between you and your unspoken hater to bring up a thought that started to nag you.
“Aizawa.” You were facing him, and the dark-haired man simply side-eyed you instead of acknowledging you. You ignored that. “Why am I the only elective teacher here, wouldn’t it make more sense to bring someone like Hizashi or Anan’s or even Ryo? They’re all much better equipped to be here than me.” Genuinely, this had confused you. No diss to Hound Dog, or Ryo as you’d grown to know him the past couple of months, the stress on his name was that he’d be the absolute best option here. Out in an open area where a multitude of students could get lost? Why not bring the literal hound dog?
“You’ve gotten pretty friendly with the staff.” That was his response, a non-answer, and a deflection.
“Dude, seriously? That’s what you’re hung up about? Yes, I see and communicate with them every day, and we all go out for drinks once every week. I’m pretty sure all the teachers are on a first-name basis personally except for you.” Shooting back, your hands now rested on your knees, hunched over in a defensive position.
“It’s unprofessional. Teachers shouldn’t know each other on such a personal basis.” Aizawa closed his eyes again, trying to nap his way out of the conversation.
You flung your hands up, “You’re right, god forbid I have friends.” Unwillingly, your voice got tight with emotion.
Aizawa opened his eyes fully, and faced you fully, also registering the vulnerability that was presenting in your voice and demeanor.
Even though it’s only been four months, you have grown close with your UA allies. Not only that, but they all welcomed you with open arms and held you in the same regard as you did them. You had especially grown close with Snipe, even if he didn’t tell you his name (or anyone for that matter, you tried looking it up and found articles of his secrecy, mans loves his privacy), along with Anan after USJ, and naturally gravitated towards Hizashi and other elective teachers. The reason you felt so offended by his words, why you got so close with your fellow staff was because you didn’t have other friends. You barely had a family, it was just your dad and estranged siblings, who either didn’t speak to you or didn’t really care for you.
“I just meant you shouldn’t rely so heavily on others, they won’t always be there to save you.” That was reaching, even for Aizawa.
“I don’t, and I know they won’t. You’ve made that so clear.” You swallowed thickly, a burning feeling crawling up your throat signaled you needed to shut up now or else they would be waterworks. And that would be embarrassing for everyone. Sometimes it kept you up at night that Aizawa was the only teacher you didn’t get along with. The others reassured you that he was aloof with everyone, Hizashi and Kayama just saying he was a big hardass with a big heart. But you just didn’t see it, it seemed like he was just mean to you. With people like Ryo and Anan, he was just quiet and cutthroat, but you? Just straight-up mean, brushing you off, undermining you, constantly nagging and criticizing you for everything that you did. It was annoying and frustrating since you had been nothing but nice. You genuinely wanted to be his friend, his mysterious nature and gruff attitude was cool, badass even. Plus, you couldn’t deny he wasn’t unattractive, stubble and dark hair was just so handsome. But his behavior was not. Still, you couldn’t help but seek out ways to try and get on his good side, making coffee, leaving snacks you’d found out he liked out, and taking his side whenever you could in meetings.
You didn’t bring it up again, spending the rest of the ride blinking back angry tears, or maybe it was the disappointment that he didn’t reassure you. Either way, he didn’t say anything either.
___________________________________________
Well fuck. Now you were mad at the school for trying to make the students grow up so fast, figuring out the training camp was usually only for second years due to the rigorous nature, soured your mood further. Not only that, you worried about all the children alone in the woods.
“They’ll be fine.” Aizawa placed a strong hand on your shoulder, and while it made your heart jump, it also pissed you off more.
“It’s a pretty big fuckin forest, what if they get lost or something not part of the exercise attacks them?” You stepped forward, trying to peek at the mess below you.
“They’ll be fine, they can handle themselves. I have no doubt.” You should trust him, Aizawa was their homeroom teacher and no doubt has seen what they can do, but it still unnerved you that these young kids were just out alone.
“I’ll just watch over them then.” You crouched on top of the messed-up fence and jumped.
You heard Mandaly shout in pure fear behind you, but her voice died as you seemingly climbed and crawled through thin air.
High above you watched their movement, keeping track of every rustle and shout. Lazily swimming in the light, arms, and legs pumping while you focused on slipping through the waves of the light. Your skin softly glowing and your body becoming lighter than air.
Somewhere far away, a dark-haired man realized the reason for such a vulnerable suit was to give you full access to your quirk. Still, you had no protection against sharp talons and dangerous attacks. Maybe, there was a better way?
___________________________________________
You didn’t arrive until late, and you were exhausted and hungry. You had almost fallen out of the air multiple times, your body ached and burned, already feeling the sunburn growing on your fingers and knees, places you used your quirk the most.
You were in the private kitchen, searching for something to eat when Mandalay handed you a plate of food.
“You look beat!”
“I feel like someone dragged me through the mud on a hot summer day.” You sighed, gratefully accepting her food, and flopped down on the plush couches.
“I can imagine. I didn’t know what your quirk was, so you scared me when you just jumped. Thankfully Eraserhead explained it to me.” She sighed, shaking her short brown hair.
That made you perk up, “He did?”
“Yeah! He seemed to know a lot about it! You must be very close. Oh, the teacher's dorms are just down the hall, we have our own spring and private bathrooms.” She dug into her food and scrolled through her phone.
Weird.
___________________________________________
You were so glad you weren’t a student anymore.
They were really putting students through the wringer, making them get up early and push themselves to their absolute limits. You and Aizawa stood side by side while you watched over the students, you took notes and he watched dutifully. Your fingers and knees were stinging like a bitch now, skin peeling off quickly, leaving your skin raw and sensitive.
“Looks like you could use endurance training as well.” Here we go.
“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes. “They’re only like this because towards the end I had to really look for light, it got dark fast and I had been using my quirk nonstop for eight hours. Let me see you do that.” You didn’t see Aizawa's shocked face, and you had stunned him into silence.
“I couldn’t.”
You looked up, and stared at him in confusion. “Couldn’t what?”
“Use my quirk for that long. I can only use it for thirty minutes to an hour now, even if I strain.” Aizawa shrugged as if that wasn’t absolutely horrifying news.
“Since when?” You abandoned your notes now, giving Aizawa all of your attention.
“After USJ. Doctor said the more I strain, the worse it gets. Plus, my eyes are dryer than before, so it makes it harder to keep them open for so long.” Aizawa wasn’t looking at you, instead opting to stare ahead, facial expression carefully neutral.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Your voice was quiet, and his adams apple bobbed.
“There was no reason to cause unnecessary worry.”
“Still that’s…really fucking shitty. I’m sorry dude.”
Aizawa regretted telling you, not being able to stand that sad, kicked puppy look. Hated the reason being him.
“There’s no reason to cause a fuss, such things happen all the time. You should get used to it.”
“Never mind.” You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite in your tone. He finally looked at you when you said that, your empathy replaced with slight annoyance.
___________________________________________
The next day was much of the same, with both homeroom teachers pushing and critiquing their classes to do and be better. Aizawa’s speech about being better had warmed your heart, and for the first time since you’d known the closed-off man you saw just how much he cared for his students. All he wanted from them was to grow and be better, he was strict out of love and care. It was beautiful in a weird way, but your moment was broken when Midoriya questioned why they were the only teachers there. When he walked away from the inspired green-haired boy, you stopped him in his tracks.
“Hold on.” You skipped in front of the dark teacher, standing your ground. “If All Might isn’t here to not draw attention, and other staff weren’t invited so as to not leak the location of the new grounds, why am I here?” You questioned, encroaching on his personal space to get him to finally answer you.
“It was thought you’d be a good choice to watch over the students.” Again, deflective and a not good answer. He started to walk away, but you followed closely by his side.
“Okay sure, we’ll go with that. But why me? Again, what about Ryo? Or Ectoplasm? They’re much better for wide search and rescue than I am.” You argued.
“You are also independently efficient, not needing the incentive to work hard. Plus, your relationship with the students is..friendly. You work well with the Pussy Cats with your open nature.” Again, he was pointedly not looking at you.
“It sounds like you asked me to be here.” You started to tease, a sense of pride at the indirect/direct praise.
“You were paid to be here, now are you going to waste my time with pointless questions or are you going to do your job.” Aizawa snapped, and that quickly dampened your mood. Note to self, don't tease Aizawa.
Pixie Bob announced that there would be a test of courage later. You were so-so to the idea, knowing you were probably just going to be hanging out in the hot springs anyway, the dark not really being your strong suit.
___________________________________________
It smelt like shit.
That was the first thought in your head when you stepped outside, seeking fresh air. How weird, 1-B must really be going all out to scare 1-A. You were unfortunately still in your hero suit, only barely getting back to your room. Somewhere in the building, you knew Sekijiro and Aizawa was teaching their remedial class, and outside the Pussy Cats were watching over the courage course. So, lazily you walked to the kitchen, planning on getting a light snack before you took a dip in the hot spring, not being able to yesterday. Suddenly you jumped, a feeling of ice dumping all over you. Everyone! Mandalay’s shrill voice suddenly yelled in your head, you stopped immediately to look up. It’s possible there are more. Everyone who can move, get back to camp immediately! Even if you come across the enemy, retreat and do not engage! You felt the telepath end immediately, and your feet moved faster than your mind. You could hear the echoes of your feet slapping across the tile. Legs pumping and knees screaming in protest as you raced to the entrance.
You had no idea what was happening, but you knew the students were in danger.
The front door came into your sight, and you burst through the doors and were greeted by a horrifying sight. A half-burnt and rotten man blasted Aizawa in a white-hot flame, and on instinct, you tackled him to the ground.
He seemed unbothered by all of this and even chuckled. “You guys really are pros.”
You looked up to where he was looking and saw Aizawa crouching in the doorway above the entrance. Momentarily distracted, you missed the villain's hands coming up. He roughly grabbed the side of your face, digging his hot staples into your hair.
“Nothing's coming out.” He pouted, like a child. Knowing you wouldn't have your quirk either, you flipped him over and grabbed the back of his head. You dug your nails as hard as you could, and reeled back. With all your might, you slammed his face into the ground, shoving it down like a dog who pissed on the carpet.
The man dug his dirty fingernails into the innermost sensitive part of your thigh and dug, his staples ripping into you while you squirmed.
You yelled out, and he used that to his advantage to flip you over. Aizawa quickly came up behind him, swiftly kicking the back of his head to straddle the back of him. Aizawa clutched his head and arm, still using his quirk.
“Tell me your name, purpose, number, and positions.” He growled out.
“Why.” The villain deadpanned.
“Because this-” Aizawa broke his arm in one quick movement, “will happen, your rights next. Let’s do this logically.” He lifted his head up, but his grip and gaze never faltered. “If I get your legs, it’ll be a pain to transport you.”
“Are we in a rush, Eraser,” The man made eye contact when he called out your hero name, and it sent a chill down your spine. The end of his spikey hair caught alight. Aizawa pounded his head in the ground a couple of times to stop him.
Rustling caught both yours and Aizawa's attention, and an out-of-breath Iida, Mineta, Koda, and Ojiro made you panic.
In a moment of weakness, the man lunged forward, but Aizawa quickly caught him. He strained for a moment before he whipped around to stare you both down.
“Hey heroes,” His gaze was manic and crazed. “Are your students important?” Then he started to melt. “I hope you can protect them all till the end.” He disappeared through the ground, his body left a mush.
The group rushed towards you, calling out for both of you.
“Get inside! I’ll be back!” Aizawa took off without you, so you quickly took the porch and hallway light and followed him.
“Wait!” You called out after him, knees still screaming in protest, your fingers now burning with the aftermath of stealing the light.
“What are you doing? You’re better off in the building!” He yelled at you.
“I was a billboard pro before this, I can handle myself!”
“Oh yeah, you really proved that back there. Truly pathetic.” He snarled back, and you ran faster.
“Fuck you! Nothing I do makes you happy!” Your fighting was cut short by Midoriya suddenly appearing, a scared Kota on his back. “Midoriya-”
The boy called out to the both of you, “It’s horrible! There’s so much I need to tell you.” He was out of breath, his arm mangled and red.
“Hey-” Aizawa started, slightly out of breath as well.
“First we need to make Mandalay make an announcement- He has a water quirk, you have to protect him!” Midoriya cut him off, words rushed and slightly panicked.
He’s pumped full of adrenaline. Midoriya needed to calm down.
He tried to run off, but Aizawa stopped him. “Stop! Your arm…you did it again, didn’t you? Did you forget what happened in Hosu?”
Midorya was lost in thought for a moment, and you and Kota stood confused. Your thigh was starting to have its own heartbeat, and you could feel the heat of the injury. You’ve gotten hurt worse, scars on your back a testament to that, but he had gotten a sweet spot in your leg. It was shaky and losing blood at a moderate pace, still, Midoriya, a student, was in a worse state and still pressing on. You’d live through worse and been fine, this would be no different.
“No, but…” The green-haired boy trailed off.
“So tell Mandalay this, everyone in classes A and B, you are granted permission to engage in combat.” With that, all parties took off, Aizawa turning to the woods and Midoryia back to camp. You followed Aizawa dutifully, pockets full of light providing some light in the darkness.
You could tell thoughts were racing in his mind, but the older man kept his thoughts to himself.
Kota's weak voice broke the tense silence. “Mister, will he be okay? I hurt him, and he still got up hurt to rescue me...I haven't even told him sorry or thank you yet.” Tears were now spilling from his wide eyes, and his grip on Aizawa's scarf tightened as big emotions consumed his small body. Before Aizawa could respond, you replied for him, not trusting him to say something to soothe his emotions.
“Of course, Kota, Midoryia is a strong hero, after all of this is done, you can properly apologize. I’m sure he’s forgiven you already.” You gave him your big winning smile, face lighting up in reassurance.
“Still, after this, we’ll have to scold him for acting without permission, so make sure you put emphasis on your thank you.” Aizawa said, running to find a place to keep the young child safe.
___________________________________________
“Where are we going?” You called out to Aizawa, the chaos around you making you nervous.
“To the camp, I need to get Kota to safety.” While he was talking, you all broke out of the woods and rushed into the building. Aizawa gently set the boy down, and you both took a breather. The sounds of yelling caught both of your attention, and you groaned. “We just can’t catch a break, can we?”
Aizawa shot you a glare and ran ahead, you still chasing after him. Rushing into the remedial class you saw that burnt man again, Aizawa jumped ahead to try and calm Sekijiro down and disarm the villain. You rushed ahead while his class cheered for him, and started to do horrid damage on the burnt man, smashing his head so hard into the ground it cracked the tile. Students yelled out horrified, but Aizawa cut them off.
“It won’t matter, it’s a fake.” They all watched in horror as the man melted beneath your fingers, but you didn’t stop punching into the ground, taking all your anger out on the slush.
“Is it a villains quirk.” Iida still hadn’t looked away, curious and slightly disgusted by the mess.
“What are you two doing here?” Sekijiro called out to both you and Aizawa, getting both of your guys attention.
“I rushed out to aid in the fight, but I ended up escorting Kota back to base. Please watch over him.” He was pointedly looking at you now, and it pissed you off. “I’m going to help on the front lines.” He tried to rush out, but Sekijiro stopped him.
“Ereaser, we don't know how many there are or how powerful they’re coming at us.” Aizawa turned around.
“You’ll be fine by yourselves, plus look, the fake was merely a diversion. They’re trying to distract us pros to make up for their meager number.” Aizawa shook his head.
“If there isn't that many of them, that’s even more of a reason for me-” Kirishma butted in, voice full of emotion.
“Yes! Nothing beats strength in numbers!” Iida interrupted, filled with the same determination.
“No.” Aizawa's voice was firm, almost scary at how strong he spoke. “If they’re trying to keep us back, then they’re going after you.” The students deflated at his words. “Bakugo’s just one of them, but there might be others as well. We are still losing by a lot with our lack of information. For now, we’ll win by everyone being safe and sound.” He rushed back out to join the fray, with you not too far behind.
“Why are you still following me? You’re better back there.” Aizawa growled out to you, running through the dark.
“Because I’m a pro. I was accepted to teach at UA for a reason.” You were now frustrated, but now it was hard to tell whether it was because of Aizawa, or because of your fuck up at the beginning. You had been caught off guard by a simple attack, and if it weren’t for Aizawa's erasing quirk, you would have been caught on fire because you got distracted.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
You said nothing in response, any response died on your lips when you saw the leftover disaster that was left.
We lost.
___________________________________________
The damage that was left behind was both humiliating and haunting. Both a student and a pro went missing, one who had left with a considerable amount of injuries. Fifteen students had poison running through their veins, or were injured and had to be taken to immediate care. You were questioned by the police for hours while they desperately tried to figure out any information they could. You were of no help, and you knew that the only information you could give was of that patchwork-face guy with a weird melting/fire quirk.
You, Sekijiro, and Aizawa sat in silence while the police officer made a phone call to god knows who. Your thigh was really starting to hurt now, but you made no move to complain knowing the students had it worse than you.
Sekijiro called out to you, and you snapped out of your thoughts to look at him. “Your thigh, are you alright? You look like you’ve lost a lot of blood.” He pointed to your injury, and you didn’t even look down to check.
“It’s fine, just a scratch.” You shook your head, mind filling with self-deprecating thoughts. Even if you had gotten 30th on the billboards, did you deserve it? Popularity had a lot to do with the point system, and your outwardly friendly attitude along with your flashy quirk made good product revenue. Plus, even if you weren’t weak, you realized that now was the first time you faced a real threat. The symbol of peace always being there to pick up the real messes and leave heroes like you to pick up the crumbs.
“It looks infected already.” He wouldn’t drop it, and you finally gave it to look down.
“I’m fine-” You stopped, your innermost thigh caked in dried blood and dirt, and it looked like the villain really got in there.
Later in the hospital, a nurse who was stitching you up pulled out a staple that was lodged deep in your leg.
___________________________________________
“Stop fussing, you look a mess.”
“Oh I’m sorry that I’m nervous.”
For the past few days, all anyone could talk about was the incident at the camp. It wasn’t as if you could blame them, the most prestigious hero school in the country had landed twenty-seven students in the hospital. In response, all teachers involved along with the principal were asked to make an apology, broadcasted all across Japan. The suit you wore was lightly uncomfortable, a little too tight for your liking. Plus, you were constantly pulling down the skirt, someone had gotten you a size too small. Or maybe you were searching for an excuse to fuss and squirm.
You and Aizawa hadn’t talked about the incident. Not that you needed to, you weren’t a couple, let alone friends, but there was an unknown tension in the air. Sekijiro had checked up on you, and had asked how your leg was.
“It’s fine, just needed stitches and a kiss from Recovery Girl, and now I’m good to go.”
Some part of you was angry that the dark-haired man didn’t reach out to you, but it was fine. It wasn’t but it was.
Aizawa shot you a look, and you quickly shut up. Sekijiro next to you just bumped your knee in reassurance.
“We’re live.” The man in the middle of the room called out, signaling for you all to stand up and speak.
“We deeply apologize for our shortcomings during the incident that allowed harm to twenty-seven first years in the hero course because of our shortcomings. We apologize for creating unease in our society because of our negligence in proper defense in our place of learning.” You all bent over in an apology, and you bowed the deepest. “We are truly sorry for the damage we’ve done.” You all stood back up straight, waiting for questions.
A man spoke out from within the crowd. “Since the beginning of the year, the UA students have had four encounters with villains. What specific countermeasures are you taking to ensure the safety of our students?” His voice was growing in volume the more he spoke, getting more and more passionate as he went on.
“Our students are of top-most importance, we will work even harder as a team to make sure they are strong enough to become great heroes.” A non-answer, Aizawa really was good at deflecting.
Another man stood up, holding a mic and paper. “During the incident, it appears you encouraged the students to fight. What was your intention behind this?”
Aizawa leaned forward to speak into the mic.
“I concluded that because we were unable to fully grasp the situation, it had to be done to avoid the worst possible outcome.”
“What do you mean, ‘worst possible outcome?’” Damn it, now they were gonna dig and pry and use any answer to get under your guys’ skin to try and get the upper hand. “You don’t call twenty-six victims and one abducted the worst possible outcome?”
“My assumption was that the villains would drive out students to their absolute limit and be killed.” Aizawa replied cooly, but you saw his own hands clench tighter and tighter with every word.
Principle Nedzu spoke up, though he was sitting in his chair with his arms crossed. “The gas attack accounts for most of the injuries. We concluded it was merely a sleeping gas from one of the enemies' quirks’. Thankfully, the quick response of Ms. Kendo and Mr. Tetsutetsue led to no grave injuries in the attack. In addition, mental support is being given to all the students, but at the moment, we see no signs of serious psychological damage done.” His voice was light, and while it wasn’t its usual cheery tone, it was calm and soothing.
“Are you saying this was a bright spot in this tragedy?” The reporter shot back, trying to twist the words of the principal.
“We believed the worst outcome is one that would’ve infringed on the future.”
“Can you say the same for the kidnapped Bakugo? He enrolled in UA High with excellent marks and won first place at the sports festival. In addition, during the incident with the sludge villain in middle school, he resisted the powerful villain alone. He has a history of showing how tough and heroic he is. On the other hand, the violence he showed in the finals and his attitude during the award ceremony shows that he is not always mentally stable. What if the villains kidnapped him because they had an eye on him? Kidnapping him with deceitful words and dying him with the path of evil?” The reporter's long rant was not only pissing you off but your allies as well. The more and more the reporter went on, the more serious he got like he was uncovering some big truth about a fifteen-year-old. “What evidence do you have for saying he has a future?”
Oh hell no. How dare a stranger assume the life of some kid with anger issues? You’ve spent nearly every day with the kid, even if you don’t have him all day you’ve seen a glimpse into Kastuki Bakugo's life. He was emotionally unstable, but he really did have a hero's heart, even if his asshole-ish nature offset that. Aizawa stood up, and you prayed he wouldn’t pop off and snap at the reporter.
Instead, he bowed down and apologized. “As an educator, I take full responsibility for Kastuki Bakugo's violent behavior. However, his actions at the sports festival originate in what he considers ‘ideal strength’. He is trying harder than anyone in his pursuit of becoming the ‘top hero.’” Aizawa peeked up from his bowed form, eyes hard and sharp. “If the villains thought they had an opening, then I believe they are being short-sighted.”
There was a tense silence, everyone swallowing the weight of Aizawa's words. Even you were amazed at such a declaration of truth and care.
The reporter meekly lifted up his mic once more. “That is not evidence, though. It isn't a question of how you feel-”
You wanted to throw yourself across the table and throttle him. Thankfully your principal spoke up once more before you could ruin your career. “We are not standing around idly by. We will definitely get our student back.” The interview/apology was ended after that, you and Sekijiro mostly there just because you were there.
“Aizawa wait.” You sighed, heels quickly clicking after him. All you trying to avoid the rush of questions that flew out in response to the abrupt end. “Your speech was inspiring. I have no idea how you kept your cool while that asshole dissed your student.”
“I had no choice, flying off the handle or having a weak moment would do no good." You couldn’t help but feel like that was a dig to you. “They were only trying to get under our skin.”
You immediately became guarded once more, and you stopped back to leave the other way. “Well, I just came by to praise you, have a good day.” You felt disappointed that all he said to you was something negative, hoping for once to have a decent conversation.
___________________________________________
You had to move into dorms for the rest of the school year, possibly longer if Nedzu saw fit. The meeting was awfully boring, Nedzu was currently going over how the dorms will be set up and students expectations as well as teachers. “Blah blah blah dont fuck up the dorms blah blah blah set up good examples for the students blah blah blah don’t bring over random people and please don’t have loud relations with your coworkers-” Wait what-
The meeting ended, and everyone packed up their bags while having light conversations with the others. You walked over to Yamda snickering, face in disbelief.
“Hey Hizashi, what was that last part?” You asked breathlessly, a laugh on your lips.
Hizashi snickered beside you, and Nemuri smiled and shook her head. “Principal Nedzu basically asked us not to not have one-night stands and to not have loud sex with each other.”
“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth with your hand, doubling over in an effort to hide your laughter. Hizashi had no shame was laughing manically, Nemuri was just smiling and shaking her head disappointingly beside you.
___________________________________________
‘Roommates’ were hand-picked by the principal, based on the quiz he had created and forwarded to all the staff members. You had honestly answered all the questions, and were now riding the elevator up into your new home. Someone told you (Hizashi) that the apartments were apparently floor-through plan, a luxury floor plan really. The whole floor was dedicated to the rooming, and it was awesome. You didn’t know who your roomie was, the principal keeping that secret as a ‘Fun surprise!’ The elevator dinged, and you hurriedly pushed all your boxes out in the small hallway, pressing the ‘keep doors open’ button over and over. Luckily it was the last of the boxes, all your clothes, decorations, and miscellaneous cooking wear. Being promised that things like couches, beds/bed frames, and microwaves would be provided. You still brought over things like spoons/forks/butter knives and real knives, plus plates and cups.
You went to open the door, panting from all the exertion but realized it was already locked. So your roomie was already here..? You fished out the key from the bags you brought and unlocked the door. Opening the door you expected your roomie to have already decorated (you kinda expected it to be Hizashi, both of you bounced off each other pretty well) but the kitchen looked untouched.
Opening the door more, you saw the dining room and living room bare, as well as the hallway.
Maybe they hadn’t had time to decorate?
You shrugged and started to push the boxes in, too tired to lift them up and move them again.
“You’ll scratch the floor like that.” Your whole body froze, a dark gloom falling over you. That familiar irritating voice.
You looked up slowly, face contorted in a forced smile.
Aizawa Shouta.
“What are you doing here?” There was no way, in all of Nedzu's wisdom and knowledge that you and Aizawa were roommates. For the rest of the year. Or maybe, the rest of your career.
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re roommates.” He shrugged like an open admission wasn’t a death sentence.
“But, how is that allowed, we’re different genders?” You literally wouldn’t have minded if your roomie was the same gender or not, but it was the fact that it was him.
“Gender doesn’t equate to things like sexuality or self-restraint. Are you saying we shouldn’t be roommates because you cannot-” How he said this with a blank face bewildered you.
“No! I’m just saying we don’t work well together, we can’t go a single conversation without going for each other's necks.” You cut him off, now becoming bewildered.
“Well then, I guess you’ll have to show some self-restraint in other ways.” He shrugged and turned to go back into the room he already chose, which was annoying because why did he get first pick?
“Okay woah wait,” You followed him, the floor changing from kitchen tile to the carpet in the hallway. “I’m the one starting fights? Says the man who always has something negative to say, or who always just cuts me off and criticizes me.” He opened the door, and you saw a glimpse of his bare bedroom.
“I don’t always have something negative to say, you always have something to improve.” With that, Aizawa closed the door in your face. You growled out and angrily continued unpacking. This will be fun.
___________________________________________
Even if you were being sarcastic, living with the man was absolutely not fun. Aizawa's criticism and nagging got worse, and now he's deluded to actually fucking lecturing you like you were a kid.
You were hanging up old pictures of family members, along with scening paintings and newspapers with you in them. Aizawa came out of his room, baggy clothes as usual and stopped you.
“Are you serious? Not only are you being extremely loud for eleven p.m., but you’re already putting holes in the new walls. You’re not even using the right nails, they’re going to snap after a few months of use.” He grabbed the hammer out of your hands, along with the nails you had in your other hand.
“I’m not even being that loud, plus who cares, I’m going to hang stuff up eventually why does it matter?” You tried to grab your supplies back, but Aizawa leaned away from you so it was out of your grasp.
“Because this is a shared living space, it’s rude to just hang stuff up without permission.” He set the tools on the ground, accidentally kicking over your pictures.
“Oh I’m sorry, do I need to ask you when to take a shit too?” You slightly lunged at him, puffing your chest out.
“Stop acting like a child, is it so hard to respect basic formalities?” Aizawa asked you, staring you down.
“Stop acting like a dick, is it so hard to be nice?” You threw his words back in his face, already pissed off.
“Enough, I’m tired already and you’re only putting a damper on my mood.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning back to his room. You found out he stole the larger room, with the walk-in closet and bathroom, leaving you with a tiny closet and no personal bathroom.
That was kinda how you two had been living for the past week, constant bickering over every single thing. Maybe he left stains on the tupperware and cups because of his horrid coffee addiction, or maybe you left your mess in the way of the living space, or maybe one of you just breathed too hard. Whatever it was, it started angry arguing with one or both of you storming out.
Whatever, recently you started to train in one of the personal gyms at the school, taking out your anger on the environment around you instead of murdering your roommate. That was our only place of solace, being able to jump and crawl around and hone in on your close combat. To be honest, it had been lacking, and the event at the camp left you self-conscious and hesitant. Noting the lights were already on, you walked in and dropped your bag at the door, gathering some light to use as stepping stools later. Quickly swapping your sweatpants and sweater for your hero suit, you walked out of the changing room and froze when you saw a figure right beside you.
Stepping out of the male changing room.
“Are you stalking me?” You turned to him, already angry.
“I could ask you the same thing, you seem to follow me wherever I go.” He snapped back, adjusting his capturing scarf.
“Because you’re always there. Like, I can’t even take a piss without you popping out of the corner to tell me the amount of toilet paper I’m using is wrong.”
“That’s an inappropriate example.” He watched you storm off, going to your corner of the gym to start your practice. You quickly climbed in the air, running across the left side of the gym while doing flips and jumps.
You could feel his cold gaze on you, analyzing your every move and jump. Self-conscious, you tripped mid-jump and panicked, years of hero instincts out the window. Your quirk deactivated, and you could feel yourself free falling through the air. You are fully prepared to hit the hard ground, tensing up your body to prepare for impact.
Instead of hitting the hard cement, large hands wrapped around you, holding your back and stomach protectively.
“Are you not a hero? What was that?” Aizawa growled, quickly standing you up and holding your shoulders while he looked you over.
“I got nervous! I panicked!” You shocked him away, holding yourself.
“Nervous about what? You were doing fine.”
“You! I could feel you judging me, so I just tripped and I freaked out!” Yelling at him, you missed his hand clutching over his heart.
“Freaked out? What if there was a student in danger, what if you were in danger?” His voice was getting as loud as yours was.
You clenched your fists, nails digging painfully in your palm. “Why do you care so much?”
Aizawa went silent after that, his face angry but he himself was quiet.
There was a heavy pause, he seemed to mull something over and you just sat angry at him.
“Because I will not let my staff be weak.” You looked away, already done with the conversation, done with him.
“I’m leaving, I’m done.” You tried to stroll past him, but he stuck out a hand.
“Wait.” You glared at him, and the bottom half of his face was engulfed with his scarf. “Train with me, let’s spar together.”
“Why would I ever-”
“Let me finish. It’ll allow me to train you to be better, and would let you get your frustrations out on me.”
That was..odd for Aizawa. You couldn’t deny the idea of beating Aizawa into the ground didn’t seem fun, but the idea of him being a teacher to you made you feel a type of way. You thought about it for a moment, but eventually, your anger won you over.
“Fine, but don’t blame me if you walk into your classroom limpiING-” Your sentence was cut off when Aizawa swept his feet under you, knocking you into the ground. You lay on the ground, arms flexing with the burning desire to knock his teeth out.
“You’re on asshole.”
___________________________________________
His strong hands clutching you, only there for seconds while he threw you to the ground, his dark eyes following your every movement, fast and calculating, the way he was so sure of his movements, fast and strong.
Those were images and thoughts that ran in your head when you stepped into the shower, hands delicate over blooming bruises and scratches. You managed to get a couple of good hits on him, your knuckles still raw when you clocked him right in the jaw and your legs slightly shaking when you pushed him off of you. Aizawa never fully gave you the chance to use your quirk, allowing you to fully focus on hand-to-hand combat, his specialty.
“You need to work more on your confidence and ability in close combat. Tomorrow we’ll do the same thing.” His monotone voice was a little more tired than usual, and he held an ice pack to the same spot where you punched him.
“Same time?” Your voice was just as tired, and you barely kept in a yawn. He simply nodded in response, turning in for the night.
Those interactions, those thoughts kept you up all night, wondering why thoughts of him infected your mind.
You turned over, needing sleep to make lesson plans and help with schedule planning.
___________________________________________
At first, training with Aizawa was fine, not great, but not exactly bad. But over the recent few weeks, he seemed to get even meaner than before, if that was even possible. You learned quickly he was holding back on you, and it made your class time very awkward.
"Hey, Ms. where'd you get those bruises from?"
"Rough night?"
It was embarrassing, especially the rougher he got.
"Fuck." You coughed, a swift kick in the chest downed you, and now you leaned over on your knees panting for breath. "Jesus dude, this is just training not the real fucking thing." You looked up at him, hand cupping your injury.
"You could have easily avoided that. I overestimated your skills. Get up." He didn't even sound sorry.
"Let me catch my breath first damn."
"No, get up. Do you think a villain will give you the same opportunity?" He taunted, hands on his hips while he looked down at you.
"I would've blinded the villain by now, give me a break." You waved him off, and he took the opportunity to grab your hand and haul you up.
"Or they could've killed you by now. You need to be stronger. Get ready." Aizawa quickly got into stance, fists ready to punch you again.
"Aizawa. Give me five fucking minutes, that hurt like a bitch." You backed up, creating a wide berth between the two of you.
He stood up, and because of his baggy hero suit, you couldn't see he was still flexing his muscles.
"See, was that so hard?" You sighed, rubbing at your chest. Taking a deep breath in, you looked up and closed your eyes. You yelled out when suddenly he tackled you to the ground, flipping you over to twist your arm.
You scratched at your bandages, fucker gave you a goddamn professional indian burn. A while back some of your advanced kids took their finals, each had to write three different essays about three different historical moments in their lives, in hero history, and Japanese history. You had put off grading them until the summer break since that was what you were originally planning to do at the start of the break. It was hard to grade so many papers when your arms and hands hurt like a bitch, and it was hard to focus with an achy body that hurt all over.
Groaning, you threw your head back and sighed, feeling a major headache growing on your head.
"What's your problem?" Aizawa's voice came from behind you, opening your eyes you saw his upside-down form sipping from a kitty cat coffee mug.
"Other than you, these goddamn papers. I put them off and now I have too much work to do." You sat back up, picking up your red glitter pen. You heard him sit beside you, the couch dipping under his weight. Aizawa picked up a random paper, skimming over it while he placed down his coffee cup.
"If you can't do it by yourself-"
"I can, thank you very much."
"-then I suppose I could help you. It doesn't seem that complicated." He shrugged, quickly putting his thick hair up in a bun. You watched his hands, and heat pooled in your cheeks at the sight. Even after all this time, you still couldn't deny the aggravating man wasn't attractive. His strong and long neck which was usually hidden was just so…hot. For lack of a better word, it made you feel like a medieval man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time.
"That's because that's one-third of the students' final, and that's the personal essay. If you want, you can do the personal ones while I do the hero and Japanese ones." You pushed the large stack of papers towards him, handing him a black glitter pen. His thick fingers slightly curled around your hand at the contact, making you swallow.
"Seriously? Do you not have any normal pens?" He asked, deadpanned.
"Nope." You turned away quickly, drinking some water to cool your body. What was wrong with you?
You scratched at your bandages again, wishing you could just rip them off. Suddenly, hands engulfed your forearm.
You turned over to your injury, seeing pale olive hands adjusting your bandages. You looked up with wide eyes and watched him fix them for you.
"Stop messing with them. You're going to agitate it more, and it will be more painful tomorrow." Aizawa's voice was firm, but his hands were so soft. So caring and gentle, fingers kindly moving them so they covered up everything. He looked up at you, awaiting whatever snappy response you had.
"You're agitating."
And for a moment no one did anything. The only sound was the whirring of the AC and the tick tick ticking of the analog clock above the kitchen doorway.
"You're infuriating." Aizawa responded, but there was no bite in his voice. Subtlety, every so subtlety, you two inched forward. His strong hand left your forearm to your shoulder, and you dropped your pen to inch your hand to his thigh.
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, eyes solely focused on him.
You didn't know when, or where, or even why but sometime from when you met Aizawa to now, you sought for him everywhere. Even when he pissed you off more than anyone, you still wanted him to look at you, talk to you. You were the one always inviting him for drinks and hangouts with the staff, always tagging him along when you stayed at Hizashi's house. Even if he hated it, you always sent him cat memes and tiktoks, or sent him videos about coffee or teacher hacks. And every time he would grumble or complain something about professionalism or how it was stupid of you to do so. But every time, he'd respond, every time he tagged along, and he would even send you tiktoks back, things he thought you'd like.
It had always been him. And it was always you.
You were so close, your hand on his chest, his heart was hammering, almost as fast as yours, and his hand was splayed on your back, holding you. So close.
"OH FUCK! GET IT!"
That broke you both out of your trance, both of you pulled your hands back like they burned.
You quickly looked at the coffee table in front of you, staring down while your white knuckles your knees.
Aizawa cleared his throat but said nothing.
"EEEEE!"
Hizashi's loud squealing reverberated around the home, and you laughed. Mostly out of nerves, but still laughed.
Aizawa sighed, cursing under his breath. "Fucking Hizashi and his fear of bugs."
Wiping a tear from your eye, (from embarrassment maybe?) you turned to look at him. Aizawa was also pointedly avoiding eye contact and had already snatched up the pen and paper again.
"I remember watching the footage from your guys' finals, that shit was hilarious." You giggled, face still red.
"Not so much when he ran to the emergency showers screaming his goddamn head off. I had to follow him to make sure he didn't blow the damn building away." With quick hands he put down his hair again, but not before you saw how red his ears had become. Not only that, but you saw him trying to hide his shaky hands.
Leaning over you also continued your work, like you were supposed to, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach and the raging blush you were sure you had.
Later that night, laying alone in your bed you screamed into your pillow. A horrifying realization that was going to make your life so much harder.
You hated Shouta Aizawa as much as you loved him. And you were almost sure he felt the same.
___________________________________________
HOT DAMN, OVER 11K WORDSSSSS. literally crying /j this is now my magnum opus. i hope this gets at least one like because FUCK lmao
anyways, was planning on writing an alt ending but idk, eat up bitches. reqs are still open lmao. also if yall want specific emojis for anon that's okay
edit; literally pissed, i used the wrong name for present mic, I used his last name instead of his first km, dw I fixed it so his dialogue makes more sense now
#my hero academia#x reader#aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta x reader#aizawa x reader#bnha shouta aizawa#bnha aizawa#shota aizawa#shota x reader#present mic#kayama nemuri#all might#bnha#bnha shouta#fanfiction#mha#mha aizawa#aizawa shota#long fic#fluff#agnst#mha angst#yeag
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