#my costume is just a piece of paper with an eye stuck to a pin stuck to a beanie

[thisnoah]

Halloween but it's a Stanley Parable and Magnus Archives crossover because I'm going as the Archivist this year

[mrpldiddles]

deer in headlights

sooooo here's my first fic! it may be getting posted the day after halloween but i still wanted to share it hehehe so here it is :) i'll share the tiktok that inspired this fic at the bottom of the post as it deserves all the hype lol

since this is my first post i don't have a tag list or anything but if you'd like to be tagged when i post in the future, whether it's for trevor or any other nhlers i may write for, just let me know!

the ending for this one is a bit rushed but i hope you like it anyways! enjoy :)

word count: 1.2k

warnings: implied smut

~~~~~~

It was Trevor’s idea. And according to him it took him exactly two months and 13 days to talk me into it. 

“Absolutely not,”

“Come on, babe, it’ll be hilarious!”

“Are you forgetting how public your job is? Thousands of people are going to see it and thousands of your fangirls will be talking about it.” Was how the conversation went for the entirety of those two and a half months. From the end of August to almost the middle of October, Trevor begged and begged for us to use his couples costume idea for Halloween. And each time he got shot down. He even went as far as getting Jack, Cole and Jamie in on his scheming. Having them text me at the most random times asking what I thought of their costume ideas - all of them being the couples costume that Trevor continued to bug me about. He even went so far as to buy the materials needed to make the costume, using the argument of me not needing to buy anything for the costume. 

I didn’t cave until I walked in the front door of the apartment one day to find him attempting to make the costume himself and making a bigger mess than necessary. Construction paper and pieces of fabric were strewn all over the living room and around the hockey player sitting cross legged in front of the TV.

“Trevor-”

“Look, you don’t even have to lift a finger to make the costumes! All you’ll have to do is put yours on!” He exclaimed with a huge smile on his face and fabric glue smeared all over his hands and somehow his cheek as well. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of my boyfriend looking like a little kid with their arts and crafts project.

“Alright fine, you win, Z,” I sighed, crouching down beside him as he let out a loud cheer. A laugh escaped my lips as he pressed a wet kiss to my cheek before turning back to the project in front of him. “I guess I can lend you some help,” I said, snatching up what appeared to be the costume intended for me to wear.

“Good because I actually have no clue what I’m doing,” Trevor said while managing to get even more glue and a piece of construction paper stuck to his face. I shook my head, laughing as I picked the yellow strip from his face. 

“That was more than obvious, Z.” He exclaimed in protest as I laughed to myself, focusing on the project in my hands and trying to decipher what my boyfriend had been attempting to create. Out of nowhere I felt fingers attack my sides causing me to drop the supplies and cry out in surprise as Trevor practically tackled me to the ground.

“What was that? Huh, babe?” He asked as he continued to tickle up and down my sides. My breath came out in gasps and laughs as I made some attempt to answer him and push him off of me. His hands paused, being placed on either side of my head as I caught my breath. I looked up to see Trevor hovering over me, his shaggy hair falling into his face as his eyes examined mine, a prominent smirk on his face. “Wanna take it back?” I hesitantly nodded my head, staring up at his bright blue eyes. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Your arts and crafts skills could use some work but you’re not as hopeless as I would’ve thought, Zegras,” I huffed out. He seemed to consider my answer, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth tilting down slightly. I cringed slightly, mentally preparing for my ticklish sides to be attacked once again as he continued to hover over me and keep me pinned to the floor. 

“Works for me,” he uttered moments later before he took me by surprise and crashed his lips into mine. My hands finding their way into his hair and one of his finding my hip.

Much to Trevor’s delight, we won the Ducks’ unofficial Halloween Costume Contest. My doubts on the costume followed me all the way to the Terry’s front door where Trevor asked if I was ready to head in. I nodded, mentally assuring myself that this wasn’t as stupid of an idea as I thought. Troy and Dani were the first to greet us as we entered their house and the costume automatically earned their approval.

“Y’know, Z, I didn’t believe you when you said you two would have the best costume this year but I think I stand corrected,” Terry exclaimed, clapping Trevor on the shoulder who smiled smugly at me causing me to roll my eyes.

“Let me guess- this was all his idea?” Dani asked me as our significant others continued to talk just off to the side. 

“What gave it away?” I asked, smiling. After a minute or two more of talking to the party’s hosts we made our way further into the party. Compliments and chirps were sent our way from the other Ducks and their significant others until we eventually found our way to Jamie and Mason in the backyard.

“I still can’t believe he talked you into this one,” Jamie said, sipping from his plastic cup.

“His arts and crafts skills were a cry for help, I had no choice but to step in and help the poor guy.” I shrugged, smirking up at my boyfriend who simply shook his head.

“Alright, come on, we gotta show everyone the full effect,” Trevor exclaimed, setting his cup down on the table behind Jamie. I begrudgingly took his hand, allowing him to walk me into the middle of the yard, earning the attention of the others around. I shook my head before pressing my hands to the two lights set in very specific spots on my chest, causing them to turn on. I couldn’t help but laugh along with everyone else at the sight of Trevor, dressed as a deer, staring blankly at the two lights. 

“A deer in headlights!” He’d exclaimed when he first told me the idea, explaining the entire costume concept.

“I think I deserve some sort of prize for thinking up our winning costume,” he declared smugly as we entered our apartment at the end of the night. 

“Oh, do you now?” I asked to which he nodded his head solemnly, his hands behind his back and everything. I shook my head, giggling before rising up on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find a prize in our room,” I whispered in his ear before turning and walking away to the kitchen, a huge smile on my lips as I heard my boyfriend gasp as my words registered in his mind.

“You’re a cruel, cruel woman,” I heard him mutter, smirking to myself. “Maybe that’s what we’ll be next year then. Cruella de Vil and one of her puppies-” Before I could finish my sentence I was scooped up into Trevor’s arms, a gasp escaping my lips.

“Hold that thought, doll, I want my prize for this year’s costume first,” he declared, walking towards our bedroom door as I laughed in his hold.

~~~~~~

hope y'all enjoyed that fic and want to read more from me in the future hehe :)

the tiktok that inspired this fic:

[wonderwomanfantasy]

missing peicies

sigh, you hurt me Anon

Bakugou x Reader

warnings: Angst, swearing, 

words: 1,400 (about)

summary: you’ve been putting up with Katsuki for as long as you can remember, and you might just be at your wits end. 

“You must have loved me a lot,” Katsuki said softly. You smiled tiredly at him. It seemed like all your smiles were tired these days. 

I did, and I still do, you wanted to say, but you knew that would go over poorly. Katsuki still flinched at any outward signs of affection, it was only recently he started sharing the bed with you, although he wouldn’t hold you and if you reached for him in your sleep he would leave. 

That’s where you were now, in bed together, your body curled in on its self squarely on your half of the mattress. It killed you that you could only look at the man who used to be your husband. 

“What makes you say that?” you asked, matching his quiet volume. 

“No one’s ever staid with me before,” he admitted. “I push people away, I’ve pushed you away and you’re still here.”

“of course,” you murmured. As if leaving was even an option for you. Katsuki was your whole world, you didn’t just give up on your whole world. 

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t be pissed if I walked away now,” you laughed and his mouth twitched up in a half-smile. He didn’t deny it. What little lightheartedness you had managed quickly vanished as a thick awkward silence set in. your heart lurched as you looked at him and you couldn’t help but wonder if things were reversed, would he still be here? 

“Can I try something?” he asked.

“Sure,” you responded automatically. It was already late but if he wanted to do something come hell or high water you were going to see it done, anything to help. 

Bakugou reached out slowly and cupped your face with his hand. You almost jumped feeling his warm callused hand touch you for the first time in weeks.  He skimmed his thumb over your cheekbone and your breath caught in your throat. 

You were going to cry if he kept this up, it has been so long since your husband had touched you. He pulled away and just like that your moment of bliss was gone. 

“You must have loved me a lot,” he repeated, “and I must have loved you a lot too.”

Your house was littered with post-it notes. Little reminders for what Bakugou needed to do. How to put on his costume. Where you kept the cups and mugs. Not to leave the house without his keys. 

The neon squares of paper littered every inch of your house but it didn’t bother you, much. Even if it was annoying to move the “turn the water cold or you’ll blow up the bathroom dumbass,” post-it every time you wanted a shower but he was your husband, how could you complain? You would do anything for Katsuki.

He always tried not to wake you when he left in the morning. And he always did. He wasn’t known for being stealthy and with his damaged hearing, even if he thought he was being quiet he usually wasn’t. 

Your eyes fluttered open as you heard the door to the bathroom shut with a loud click. Katsuki was dressed for work and ready to leave. 

“I’ll see you when you get home,” you croaked, your voice raspy from sleep. He jumped, surprised as he was every morning. 

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days dumbass,” he grumbled. Before adding affectionately, “I’ll see you when I get home, go back to sleep.”

You had been furious when the agency demanded that Bakugou come back to work. He wasn’t ready, you protested. He was still hurt and didn’t remember anything past his UA days, didn’t remember you. But he was fine physically and the world needed a hero like him. So he went back. 

It was safe to say that this post-accident Katsuki wasn’t the Katsuki you married. In the begging, you were certain that he would get his memories back and everything would go back to normal. He wouldn’t flinch from your touch anymore and go back to wrapping you in tight bear hugs when he got home and pouncing on you pinning you to the bed just so he could hold you. You weren’t nearly as optimistic these days. 

Even when he did remember things, it never made things better. He would just look at you for a couple of minutes while he tried to work things out. Then he would admit he remembered your first anniversary, but only bits and pieces. You could see how uncomfortable these memories made him. Like he felt guilty he couldn’t make you as happy as the old him did. Or, worse, guilty that he didn’t love you the way he used to. 

You tried not to think like that, Even though this Katsuki was different, Much more reserved and stuck in his own head, He was nothing if not blunt and brash if he got sick of you he would tell you, and if he wanted you out of his house he’d kick you out without a second thought. Spouse or no Spouse. 

So you put up with the awkward distance, and the sticky notes, and the staring, Because you still loved him, and even if you’d given up on the idea of things going back to normal, things could still get better. And you were willing to work for the better. 

You cooked that night, even though your husband did come home early tonight as promised, he was far too tired to cook, and his head hurt, his head always hurt, so you shooed him into the bedroom promising to wake him when dinner was ready. 

You’d been a terrible cook before you met Bakugou. You had just started dating when he found out you were living on ramen and hot pockets. He had found that unacceptable and taught you to cook. 

“ Smells good,” Katsuki commented coming into the kitchen, scratching his stomach. You frowned. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” you accused pointing at him with your laddel. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, I’ll sleep when I want to sleep,” he snapped. You could still see the lines from his pillow on his face. It must have been a really good nap. Katsuki brushed past you to the radio, flipping through his CDs before picking one and playing it. Of all things, soft piano music filled the kitchen.

You quirked an eyebrow up in a silent question. Katsuki plucked the ladle from your hands and put it to the side guiding your arms around his neck while his fell to your waist. He pulled you into the middle of the kitchen and started pulling you around in slow circles. 

“I still don’t remember our wedding,” he admitted, “but when I went on patrol today we passed a dance studio and- well I dunno how it works but I remembered some shit.”

You just nodded, silently listening. 

“I was a shitty dancer right up until our wedding, I knew I was going to make an ass out of myself during our first dance if I didn’t do something, so I got my ass in a ballroom dancing class. Just so I could impress ya, did you know that?”

You shook your head no. “I just assumed you were naturally good at it like everything else.” he gave a bark of laughter at that and danced with you late into the night. 

Days like that made you hate yourself. You hated it when Bakugou really tried and when he was sweet and soft with you. It would be so much easier to fall out of love with him if he wasn’t trying to be good to you all the time. 

It was just too much to put up with. It was killing you to be stressed out all day every day worried about your husband and trying to help him. You hated yourself for thinking of Katsuki as a burden. But you did. And you hated the little feeling of hope you got when it seemed like he wasn’t in love with you either. But you did. 

It was horrible of you to think of divorcing him, especially when he needed you most, but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Was it too much to ask for a husband that loved you? And was it too much to say that the husband that did love you, died in that accident?

[vanillann]

the museum of heartbreak (spencer reid x f.reader)

this is based off the book “the museum of heartbreak” by meg leder

word count: 2.3k

a weirdly shaped bobby pin

Spencer sat at his desk, Penelope stood beside it with a cup of coffee talking about her new partner coming in today.

“I know I’m supposed to be training her, but do you think if I told her she was going to be my best friend in the whole world she'd get scared?”

Pen stirred her coffee while she rambled you Spencer. He gave the women a sincere look. 

The sound of the door opening and closing cut the two off, looking over to see a woman.

She had her arms crossed and her eyes wandered around the large bullpen.

Once they landed on Penelope, she gave a soft smile and walked to the two.

“Hi, are you Ms. Garcia?”

Penelope sat the large pink mug on Reid's desk, turning fully to look at the women.

“Call me Penelope,” the woman went to stick out a hand, but Penelope grabbed both her shoulders and pulled her into a large hug. 

Spencer chuckled at the woman's face, she looked alarmed to say the least.

Once the blonde let go, she turned to Spencer.

“Meet Doctor Spencer Reid, he likes to eat lunch in our office so you will see him a lot.”

Spencer gave a shy wave, the women easily returning it.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

Before the two could exchange words, Penelope grabbed her arm and rushed her into her office.

Spencer watched the two walk away, to the tech office.

“Who was that?”

Derek clapped a simple hand on Reid's shoulder, looking down at the doctor.

“The new tech analysis,” Spencer turned to look up at his friend.

“She looks youngish.”

“Youngish isn’t a word and she graduated a year early from what Garcia said.

Derek nodded, taking a sip from his mug.

“You should go help her figure the place out.”

Spencer looked over at Derek, a crease forming between his eyebrow.

“Penelope is probably going to do it.”

“Her and I are about to pick up lunch for everyone, she promised she’d go with me this time.”

Almost like it was planned, Pen came running around the corner, purse in hand.

“Ready chocolate thunder?”

“Coming baby girl.”

Derek patted Spencer's shoulder, falling the tall woman to the elevator.

Spencer waited until the elevator completely closed, not wanting to give Derek something to tease him about.

He shoved both hands in his pocket, walking through the class door to the “BatCave” as Garcia once called it.

Once he got closed, the sound of metal jiggling and groans were heard from the small room.

Spencer peaked through the small gap in the door, walking (Y/N) sitting on the floor in front of her desk.

She had one eye closed and her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth.

He gently pushed open the door, watching the women play with the lock on one of the cabinets in her desk.

Suddenly the women looked up, giving him a wide eye look.

“I swear I’m not doing something illegal.”

Spence only chuckled, playing with the fabric in his pocket.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

She smiled, pulling her legs up to his chin slightly.

“Penelope gave me a copy of the teams personal files and told me to keep them safe, but she didn’t give me the key to my desk,” she pulled what looked to be a bobby pin from the lock.

The bobby pin was twisted and bent in odd ways, obviously being through something.

Spencer only smiled, pulling the bobby pin from her fingers and squatted beside her.

He easily placed the bobby pin in the lock, turning it twice and pulling the cabinet open.

A loud gasp was heard from beside him, the same wide eyes from earlier were back.

“You’re a genius.”

Spencer smirked as he looked over at the women.

“I know.”

an empty bag of skittles

The sight of the two kids smiling faces had Spencer feeling sick.

The kids had been gone for 27 hours, over the 24 hour span. The team knew they were dead, but nobody dare say it out loud.

“We are missing something, why do we have to be missing something,” Rossi mumbled under his breath.

Suddenly the conference room door swung open, a bewildered (Y/N) stood in the door with a stack of papers in one hand and a bag of skittles in the other

“So I was doing a background search on the extended family with Pen, and I didn’t find much,” she ran over to the large table, a picture of the two missing kids with an older woman.

“I was wandering on an old Facebook page when I found this photo, but the woman wasn’t on any record.”

The woman stood with her arms around both children, squatting to be at their height.

She held a balloon with the number 6 on it, a small birthday hat sat in her head.

“I found her in the system, Kallie Gray, she’s their birth mother sister.”

“You think it’s her?” Hotch asked, a small bit of hope in his voice.

“Yes.”

(Y/N) threw her arms out, a handful of skittles flying from the bag.

Spencer watched a few hit his chest, but paired no mind as he listened to the girl intensely.

This was the first time Spencer really heard her go on about something, since she’d only been at the BAU for a week.

“Here the address.” She handed Hotch a piece of paper, which he read and passed to Rossi.

“Spencer and JJ, saying here for the parents, I don’t think she would hurt the kids.”

Spencer nodded while JJ excused herself, going out to call the parents.

“The rest of us, let’s go.”

The rest stormed out the door, serious looks on all their faces.

Once the door closed, the new tech analysis collapsed into a nearby chair.

She took a handful of skittles, throwing them into her mouth.

She looked up at Spencer, an exhausted look at her face.

“Skittle?”

She took her hand, moving it from her chest to the shape between them.

Spencer took the seat beside her, turning to look at her.

He took one single skittle and threw it in his mouth.

“You did good today,” Spencer walked her looked at the glass wall, watching the busy room below.

“It’s because of the skittles,” she simply shrugged.

“Or because you belong here, because this is what you are good at.”

She only looked over at him and smiled.

“You’re nice, I’ll share my skittles with you anytime.”

a unopened hello kitty bandaid

The team let out large breaths of air as they walked back into the bullpen. Everyone smiled as they looked up, seeing the younger tech analysis sitting on top of Spencer desk.

Spencer smiled, walking over to the girl as she read one of his books.

“Spencer you need better taste in-” she cut herself off as she looked up.

Spencer watched as she reached up and touched his cheek. If it wasn’t for the pain of the small cut, his cheek would probably be on fire.

“A piece of glass got me, it’s nothing.”

The girl said nothing and she got off his desk and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the halls into Pen and her shared office.

She pulled him into the room and gently pushed him into her soft chair.

She pulled out a small box from behind her computer, the sight of pink and hello kitty made Spencer laugh.

“You could get the average bandaid, you know.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling one from the box and opening it.

She pulled herself closer to him, Spencer held his breath. The way her tongue stuck out the side of her lips had him melting in his seat.

She placed the bandage gently on his cheek, a little smile formed once it was on all the way.

She didn’t move, she stayed where she stood watching Spencer. In that moment he was so happy she wasn’t a profiler, because the way he was watching her she would have known about the crush he had been developing.

“Did you know bandaid were invented in 1920 by Earle Dickson.”

Spencer wanted to beat his head on the table, this wasn’t the time for facts about band aids.

She blinked quickly, pulling back and grabbing a few extra bandaids. She grabbed his arm and opened his left hand, placing three hello kitty bandaids in his hand.

“My band aids are better than an average bandaid.”

a blue dog collar

Halloween had come, and to say Spencer was excited was an understate.

The BAU was covered in cobwebs and fake jack-o-lanterns, a small table of finger foods sat on a table.

Penelope and (Y/N) had convinced Hotch to throw an office party if they didn't get a case on Halloween, which made Spencer almost cry with joy when nothing came in.

He stood talking with JJ, who was dressed as a princess, and Emily, who was dressed as catwoman.

He stood with a large pair of khakis and a large green shirt (Y/N) bought just for this costume.

Suddenly Spencer 's eyes were covered, the sweet sound of said voice had a small smile come over his face.

“Woof,” Spencer moved her hands and turned around, seeing her smiling face with two large brown dog ears on top of her head.

She smiled up at him and held up a large blue dog collar.

“I was going to put it on but it hurts, hold onto it for me?”

Spencer only nodded and took the collar from her, shoving it in his pocket.

“Thank ya Shaggy,” she gave a dramatic wink and finger gun as she backed over to the drink table.

“Okay Reid, what’s going on there,” JJ gave her friend and serious look.

Emily put a hand on her hip and gave the same look, a smirk on her face.

“She’s my best friend.”

Reid shrugged, looking down into his cup of punch. The sad smile started forming across his face.

“She’s seeing someone.”

Without another word from the two women, they moved him into one large big group hug.

a broken piece of a starry night mug

Spencer walked into the break room, an empty mug in his hand.

(Y/N) stood with her back to him, and a large smile played across his face.

“Happy one year of working at the BAU.”

He walked behind her, throwing an arm over her shoulder.

She only nodded, not even looking up at Spencer. He felt his heart shatter, his world felt crushed.

“What’s up with you?

“I ended it.”

Spencer didn’t want to admit it, but he felt like the lights in the break room were brighter and the kick in his step felt lighter.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t love him, I just wanted to get over someone else,” she turned to look up at Spencer.

Her elbow swung into the microwave, causing the starry night mug she held in her hand to tumble to the ground.

Spencer jumped into action, getting on his knees to pick up the pieces.

She followed after him, a small little laugh fell from her lips with a soft ‘sorry’.

“Can I come to your place tonight?”

Spencer looked over at her, her soft feature made him forget how to speak. HE simply nodded his head and he took the broken piece of the mug from her hand.

He walked to the trash can, throwing all but one piece away.

Welcome to the Museum of Heartbreak

Spencer taped the small piece of paper with the words on his apartment door, a  nervous smile on his face.

We walked back into his place, the random white Christmas lights hung from his ceiling. In front of each item was a card with the object name and the date of the event.

Suddenly a loud knock ripped through his thoughts, without thinking he jumped behind the objects and yelled a come in.

The door opened, (Y/N) face came around the door. Her eyebrows knitted together as she closed the door, looking up at Spencer than the objects on the floor.

A small laugh fell past her lips and she looked down at the object, her hand coming to cover her mouth.

“Spencer,” she looked back up at him. He held up a single finger, quickly clearing his throat, reciting the speech he prepared.

“I know you are heartbroken right now, I’m sorry about that truly, but I’m not sorry about being in love with you for 323 days.”

A small sigh left her lips, her hand coming to rest over her heart.

“The day you told me about that date, you broke my heart. Today after you told me it was over, you fixed it.”

He stepped over the objects, a small smirk on his face by the amazed look in your eye.

“I learned that life breaks your heart, a lot. I also learned that it sends people to fix it.”

He walked over and grabbed the woman's hand, the same hand he’d want to grab for the rest of his life.

“Everything in this room was a small way you fixed me, because it all leads back to you. It will always lead back to you. Dopamine-”

Spencer was cut off, the soft feeling of lips upon his made his head spin.

He moved the hand that sat in his pocket to move around the back of her head, the other around her shoulder.

Their teeth clashed from the large smile on both their faces, the hot air moved across both their faces.

She slowly pulled away from him, watching him with a goofy smile.

“I like this museum.”

[hirokari]

↠ plaster

pairing: jungmo x reader

tags: high school!au, play!au, clumsy!Reader, fluff

warnings: minor explicit language

— “um... does anyone know where i can find a plaster?” 

a/n:  ha! its a miracle! she’s updated with an imagine! :P n e ways i think my plan is too update with an imagine once every 1-2 months...? my writer’s block is horrible :’(

Senior year.

The year everyone had been dreading, just one more step until they're out of this hell hole. And yet, what seems like the most relieving thing in the world, it takes one play, one role to mess it up for him.

His brown irises skim through the pinned papers on the school's pinboard, hoping for his name to turn out in the 'extras' parts. But the more he scans fir his name, the more his stomach drops.

Until he'd found his name.

Jungmo groans, the tips of his eyes dropping in sync with his grimacing lips. His fist hits the wall hard, startling one of his classmates.

"Hey, what's up man... oh, you got the role lead! Bro, that's awesome!"

It doesn't help the fact that everyone's congratulating him for something he clearly didn't intentionally aim for. He'd actually slacked his audition, but maybe that's what got him the spoiled prince's role.

"A-Ah, please, it's... not that great." He stammers, rather out of frustration more than humbleness. He rubs the back of his neck in s repeated, eager matter, the endless praises ticking him off even more.

~

"Aw, come on, Mogu! Embrace the prince in you!" Minhee emphasizes into his mic, followed by a fit of immature cackling from himself and Woobin. Jungmo clicks his tongue of annoyance, "This senior play can suck my a-"

"Cheer up, Jungmo. You're the center of attention-"

"That's just it! Sure, I'd like the fame and stuff, but for a stupid prince role? Come on, dude. No thanks."

Jungmo sighs out of exasperation, slouching further into his seat. He mutters a curse followed by the younger's name, cracking a smirk when Minhee doesn't bother to hide his whimper mixed with the sound of him shuffling against his bed sheets.

"Right, my guys, I'm heading out. I'm tired from all this fame," He concludes with a yawn, stretching his arms in front of himself, nodding in content when he hears his bone sockets pop (or crack, if you say it like that).

"Alright, g'night, princey." Minhee snickers. Woobin chuckles, "Yeah, lights out for you, your highness."

Jungmo mumbles a few sleepy slurs under his breath, clearing his throat as he disconnects from the FaceTime. He's so frustrated that he'd clicked a button one too many times, and his phone lags aren't helping.

Tomorrow's rehearsals are going to be hell.

~

"Is this okay?" A girl— who Jungmo had just realized was looking at him suggestively— mumbles lowly, her voice probably raspy on purpose as she measures his waist down with a measuring tape. She licks her lips and nibbles on the bottom one, but it really looks like she's trying to find the stuck piece of broccoli between her teeth with her tongue.

He gulps thickly, finding the situation not to his liking. "...it's not okay?" He answers rather in a questioning tone. She laughs, obviously not taking his answer seriously and resting her hand to his chest, "You're really funny."

He's had enough. He's uncomfortable, and really, really hot in this stuffy room with other people in the play who wouldn't care about his sticky situation. He's close to slapping this girl. That is, until the door opens slowly.

Jungmo's attention strays from the attempting girl to whoever had just come in, realizing that from the door was the only natural light that illuminates in the room. He ceiling lights make him sleepy, maybe because of how boring and dull it was.

Seeing the first ray on sunlight since a while caused him to squint when it shone directly at his eyes, the air now smelling grassy from the field directly outside the dusty storage room the students had (for some reason) voted to measure for costumes in.

"Um... does anyone know where I can find a plaster?" You ask softly, but loud enough to catch everyone's attention. It's quiet for a brief moment, and you panic internally, as if you'd just interrupted a starved wolf's meal.

But one of your classmates wave over for you, to which you scurry over to with a relieved sigh.

Jungmo's eyes couldn't leave your figure. He admired the nice taste in clothes you've spent all morning picking out, and your messy hair tied into a lazy style. He watched you wrap on the plaster around your finger, your tongue sticking out a little out of habit.

He doesn't know why, he really doesn't, but it makes him smile, seeing you struggle with the sticky side of the plaster.

"Hey," Jungmo finally says to the previous suggestive girl, and he fights down the urge to just cringe when she bats her lashes at him while purring out a response. He gestures his head towards your direction, "do you know who that is?"

"Oh, the clutz kid? Don't even bother-- she's lame, and always clumsy with herself." The girl rolls her eyes, twirling the ends of her hair. "She's came in for another plaster— She's clearly only pricking herself for some attention while making the play fits."

She makes the play's outfits? By hand?

Jungmo's impressed, and intrigued. He won't let this chance slip.

~

  "Craaap," You hiss out, leaning your head back against the wall. It's the fifth time you've hurt yourself with the same needle. Yui snickers, "Should I get you another coke?"

"What? Why coke?" "...well, I'm getting coke, you want some?" "...yes please. I'll go look for some plasters... again."

She nods with a playful hum, dashing off to the vending machine all the way across the building. Sucking on the sweet, metallic tasting fluid from your finger, you slowly stand up, mentally preparing yourself for another trip for plasters.

That is-- until a sudden voice calls out a 'hey,'.

Turning around, your brows ride up in surprise when you see a tall boy clad in a black hoodie leaning on the wall you had been sitting against.

"Yeah?" You answer quietly, retracting your finger from your lips. The boy reaches up to scratch the back of his head with one hand as the other rummages into his hoodie's pouch.

"Well, uh, I noticed you were looking for some plasters a while ago, and um... figured you were clumsy. So I got you a pack," He reaches out, and you see a box of plasters.

Your chest tightens at his thoughtful actions. Stranger or not, he sure knew how to swoon people-- or at least, you.

"O-Oh! So it's obvious I'm pretty messy, huh?" You jest, accepting the box from his hand. He shrugs, "Eh, who isn't? Messy is good sometimes, right?"

"Right," You repeat, tearing the box open slowly. You spot more crimson seeping from your skin, which causes you to grab a plaster in a hurried matter.

Now, five minutes later, here you are back on the floor next to the kind boy who had bought you the pack of plasters.

"Thank you, by the way." You turn to him, a smile gracing your lips. The side of his lips quirks up, "Don't mention it, uh... I didn't catch your name."

"Y/N."

You extend a palm, and he grins at the amount of plasters it's covered in.

"Jungmo."

He envelopes your hand in his bigger one, a firm shake being the first step to a great connection.

[marveloussupernerd]

Halloween Bash - Jaehee Kang

Hello and welcome to spooky season! For the next week I’m going to post a Halloween one shot every night. I random number generated the post order, prompts, and other little details about it, so I’ll be including those at the beginning of the story

Prompts: RFA party, bobbing for apples, stay all night

Summary: the RFA is throwing a little Halloween bash for its members. You and Jaehee dress to impress

You and Jaehee had put a lot of thought and effort into the RFA Halloween party. Rika had done it once before in the past and you wanted to bring it back and hopefully make it a fun tradition. You planned to have a costume contest, bobbing for apples, and the Monster Mash on repeat.

Jaehee had left the costumes up to you. It took you a while to find good costumes (there were a zillion Hetero couples costumes but you really struggled to find something creative for the two of you), but when you saw it you knew it was perfect. Of course, you couldn’t both win the costume contest, but you definitely wanted to match.

You walked into the coffee shop where Jaehee was hanging a streamers, and plopped the costumes onto the table next to her. “Are those the Scooby Doo characters?” She asked, glancing down at the costumes then focusing her energy back to the task at hand.

“Velma and Daphne! Jaehee, don’t tell me you didn’t know their names,” you sighed, plopping onto the chair next to her.

“I actually did watch Scooby Doo as a kid, but it’s been a while,” she smiled. She stuck one more piece of tape then carefully got off the chair she was standing on to sit next to you. “I think it’ll be quite cute.”

“Oo! I also got this hairspray stuff for you that temporarily dyes it orange. It might be kind of unnatural but-“

“You want me to be Daphne?” She cut you off, her eyebrows raised skeptically.

“Duh! I think you’d look really nice as her. Why? Would you rather be Velma?” You glanced down at the costumes. Fortunately you two were nearly the same size.

“No, I just. I don’t know... I assumed you’d want me to be Velma. I did look a lot like her...”

“Yeah, because Jumin made you. You look so beautiful now and I want you to embrace those changes! Putting on a short wig and glasses would do the exact opposite.”

She leaned across the table to grab your hand. “Thank you. I don’t think you understand how much that means to me.

“Of course. Now if you’re done with the decorations can I help you do the hair?”

“I set one banner up...”

You looked around. Huh. She was right. “Whoops. Got so excited I didn’t even notice that. Let me help you set things up first then.”

The two of you were an excellent team, obviously, and made quick work of setting up the decorations. Jaehee had splurged on some nice decorations. Lots and lots of pumpkins and pumpkin banners (to go with your pumpkin treats you had made ahead of time) and even a very realistic cauldron for the bobbing for apples game. Granted, her decor was very mild and not scary, spare one thing she splurged on. She set up one of those spiders that jump out at you when you walked past it, then put it by the entry.

“Jaehee... I didn’t know you were so diabolical...” you chuckled, putting batteries in the machine to get it running.

“I just want to see Mr. H- I mean Jumin, jump. He has a fear of spiders you know.”

“I’ll be sure to get it on camera,” you winked at her.

The next step was getting all dressed up. You started with the hair dye, which blended surprisingly well with her now-long hair. It wasn’t too neon, but enough that you could tell she was now a redhead. You helped her with some winged eyeliner, as she had never done a wing herself, and some sparkly pink lipgloss. Once she was all dressed, you took a step back to admire your handiwork. “Jaehee, you look kinda hot,” you complimented, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed.

Her cheeks shot red from the compliment as she worked hard to look anywhere but your eyes. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“No, I think you look exactly like her. Now will you help me get this wig on?”

Turns out getting a wig on is a two, probably three honestly, person task. Especially with your baby hairs that kept falling out of place. Luckily, Jaehee helped you fix it until it was absolutely perfect. You got all dressed next. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a little spin.

“They really didn’t include the glasses with the costume?” She asked, turning the bag upside-down to ensure you hadn’t missed anything. “Huh. Well, luckily for us I think I still have my old pair.”

Jaehee disappeared to the back. You heard a lot of rustling through drawers before she came back victorious. “No prescription or anything, just regular frames.” She carefully put them on your face. “Perfect. Now you look the part.”

You opened your phone camera to check your outfit. “We look GOOD! Best couples costume ever.” You glanced at the time. “And just in time too. We’ve gotta get to the front so we can see everyone get scared by the spider.

Jumin and Yoosung arrived together, no surprise since Yoosung was still his acting assistant. Jumin jumped slightly at the spider, but it was nowhere close to Yoosung, who backed into Jumin so quickly that he knocked the both of them over. You and Jaehee couldn’t contain your laughter, not making any movement to help them up.

Luckily there were no injuries, as the two got up relatively fast and made their way over to you. “Oh Assistant K- I mean, Jaehee,” Jumin said to you, “Some days I miss you more than others. And this is definitely one of those days.” He obviously did and didn’t mean it at the same time; he was teasing Yoosung. But oh! More pressing matters at hand.

“I’m not Jaehee,” you giggled. Jumin’s mouth fell open in shock. Obviously you were right; your voices were quite different, but you really pulled a fast one on him.

“Forgive me. I just thought... well, what are you two anyways?”

“You don’t know? They’re from Scooby Doo!” Yoosung yelled, very surprised that Jumin didn’t recognize it.

“Scooby huh?”

“Scooby Doo! It’s a kids show. You’re... more hopeless than I thought,” he said sadly.

“You two look nice! Frankenstein and his monster. Very creative.” You complimented them.

The conversation was halted when Zen walked in the room, bumping into the glass door as he jumped away from the spider. You all laughed this time.

Zen was quickly followed by Seven and V, who were not shocked by the spider at all. Figures. Zen was a vampire, V was dressed as a pirate, and Seven was... oh god why was he in his maid costume.

“You all look nice!” Jaehee complimented. “Let me get some music on and then we’ll start everything up.”

“Jaehee, that’s you!?” Zen exclaimed. “You look great!”

“Thanks!” She called. The Monsrer Mash started playing. She made her way back to the group. “Although it wasn’t exactly my idea.”

“I am a genius, I know.” You commented, accepting your praise. Jaehee hit your shoulder playfully and you got the party started.

The activity of the night was bobbing for apples. Was this a good idea? Probably not. But it’d be fun. You got to man the station and time how long it took everyone to get their apples. Jumin took the longest... literally over three minutes because he didn’t want to hurt his teeth. Zen was the quickest, trying to make sure he beat Jumin, which was not challenging to do.

Jaehee finished her turn and got right in the middle of the times. Her lipgloss was smeared down her face. “You know, maybe this idea had a few flaws,” you giggled, grabbing a paper towel to help her dry her face off. You very gently patted her face dry, using your finger to gently wipe the lipgloss away. It was strangely intimate and the two of you were both flushing messes, despite the fact that you were literally dating. No makeup problems for you though! The only issue was that the glasses fell off in the water, traditional Velma style, and the game became bobbing for glasses.

Zen’s prize for winning was a caramel apple designed to look like a pumpkin. Pretty creative from you and Jaehee to be honest. He rubbed it in Jumin’s face nonstop, and you figured he would for the next year until the next contest.

When it came down to voting for the best costume, it was no surprise to read out the results. Everyone had voted for Jaehee. There was one vote for you of course, because Jaehee was a supportive girlfriend and would NEVER vote for herself. Even Seven didn’t vote for himself which was, honestly, quite a relief. You were proud that her costume was so good Seven considered it better than his “Mary Vanderwood III” getup, whatever that meant.

Jaehee’s very special prize was homemade chocolate and pretzel bark the two of you had made the other night. Honestly, you were glad she won because it was so good and she would share it with you.

The two of you stayed all night. You sort of had to, considering it was taking place at your coffee shop. But you had a great time dishing out (non alcoholic) drinks and pumpkin cookies and candy.

You played pin the stem on the pumpkin (which V actually won, which honestly should not surprise anyone) and spent most of the time hearing everyone complaining about the Monster Mash playing for the fiftieth time. It wasn’t your fault. There weren’t that many Halloween songs and this one was Jaehee’s absolute favorite.

Once everyone left, the two of you plopped down on the sofa in the corner of the shop. “I’m so tired,” Jaehee groaned, resting her head on your shoulder and propping her feet up. “You sure we can’t just sleep here tonight?”

You laughed, chest shaking as you giggled, causing Jaehee to shift slightly. “We still have to open tomorrow at 6. And as much fun as it sounds to stay the night here, I’m worried your hair will become permanently orange if we don’t wash it out.”

She let out an exhasperated sigh, standing up and taking your hands to help pull you up. “Okay, but only if you help me wash it out. I’m too tired, and I don’t think I’ll be able to get the back.”

You winked at her. “Sure, whatever you say, Jaehee.”

[bakugoubabygirl]

Part one is here https://bakagoubabygirl.tumblr.com/post/625295921148788736/todoroki-xreaderx-katsuki-you-are-the-daughter-of

Part two

After school I was looking for Todoroki when I saw a certain blonde at the back of the school. He look like he has been crying . I stood there for a minute then he saw me . Shit.

     "What do you want you dumbass. What are you a stalker now ," he yelled. Clearly his pride had been damage from today . He needed it though . I started to walk away I didn't feel like tearing him down anymore today .

     " Wait" he grabbed my wrist . Digging his nails into my skin. " Train with me," he said in a low voice " Be on my team" he folded a piece of paper into my hands .

       I was about to answer when I heard a familiar voice. Katsuki let go of me knocking me back some. " Y/n there you are. What's going on , he didn't hurt you or anything ?"  Todoroki said . Looking at me and bakagou.

         " No I'm fine , let's go ," I sigh .

         " Why are you so worry about her you half and half bastard . If I want to hurt her, I will and you cant stop me . So get out of here , before I blast your ass." He fumed.

           I grabbed Shouto hand and rolled my eyes at Katsuki . " I'm fine Shouto don't worry about me " I smile . We handed outside to the car where my dad was waiting.

           " What was that about?" He ask . His grip on my hand gotten tighter.

            " He wants me to train with him ," I laughed

            " Oh, look Y/N, Katsuki is a very unstable individual, please be careful" he gave me a hug before I got into the car. " thank you but I can handle him"

  ___________________________________

                                     Katsuki POV 💥

         I will surpass them all .  Y/N is alright at fighting, her training with me will make her a good asset to me in battle .  I gave her my number , because no one else can talk to her with Icyhot getting in away. Like he thinks she his for some reason.  Then I got a message .

            Y/N: Hey It's Y/N . Where are we training at Tommorw  hothead .

      Katsuki :  Tommorw before school meet me at my house  at 6am . I won't go easy on you  stupid little princess.

             Y/N: bring it .

    I turn my phone off and then scowled at myself. Why do I have a stupid smile on my face . I couldn't careless about her.

I woke up and change into some sweat pants and a tight black shirt. I grab my bag and waited in the living room until I heard a knock on the door .

I open it to see her standing there in some tight leggings and a crop top . Her hair was out of her face and tied up . I don't know why I made a stupid blush, when her outfit was covering more then her costume . You can see her face today it wasn't down hiding her .

" Well lets go if we are going and stop staring " she smirked .

" I WASNT STARING" I screamed . She so full of herself. " I will kill you"

"We could go over to my house . we have a training arena in the back" she suggested . Of course she does . She has been getting proper training all her life . Being the daughter of the number one hero in all .

" Sure whatever " she grabbed my hand . Like she does with Todoroki. It made feel at ease for some stupid reason. I made a disgusted look. I didn't and won't make her let go . What's happening.

We made it to her house . I never bother to care what all might house look like . It was crazy huge , a freaking mansion .

" So this is it , surprise no paparazzi has caught me yet" she laugh. Now that she mention it was weird that we walk all the way here with out anyone spotting her. Then again she had two body Guards that's been behind us the whole time .

" Let's just gets to the part where I’m beating you" I said. She open the door and her dad was right there.

" Y/N I was worry , where have you been" then he saw me " You didn't tell me you were bringing guest over" he didn't have a smile on his face which was odd to see him without one.

" Yeah well we are going to train before school , so we have to get going " she huff.

" You And him training alone ?" He cross his arms . " I don't want boys over here , when I'm not here. I have to go do hero work " he snap . I felt really awkward standing here . Y/n didn't help the situation.

" Why you don't trusts me ? we won't have sex or anything . I would rather throw up and I'm sure he agrees. So please stop being over protective." She Argue.

" I see " he said giving up . Then he face to look at me " I'm a hero but if you touch her or hurt real bad . I won't hesitate to murder you” . Then he grabbed his jacket and left .

" Come on let's go we're wasting time " she lead me to the training arena .

" let's race three miles to get warm up" she said .

" What do I get when I win" I gave her a smirk.

" Well it Doesn't matter because your not going to win" she laugh. She really fucking stupid, thinking she can beat me.

" Well when I win , I want you to take me out to eat after school Tommorw" I hope she didn't realize what I was doing . She to stupid too notice , so it's whatever.

" Is that's so " she smiled . Fuck. Then she got into position to start running " If I win, which I will, You have to eat lunch with me, for now on" she laugh.

" Whatever loser, on your mark .get ready; Go" I shouted and then we took off .

She was fast but I'm faster. When we were on our second lap she past me . Sticking her toungue out at me . It fucking piss me off I speed up as fast as I could go .

       We we're neck and neck ; with the finish line in view. I cross it around the same time she did. I won anyways though.

     " Looks like I won" she brag.  Oh fuck no .

     " In your fucking dreams princess, I fucking won" I spat. Taking her water bottle out of her hands . The frustration on her face, was so damn cute . I love pissing her off.

      " Hey that's mine" she try to snatch out of my hands." Give it back and besides that's counts as a indirect kiss" 

         I hold it up over hand . She so fucking short.  It doesn't count as a kiss . If I wanted to kiss her I would and it would be so good, it would blow her fucking brains out . " Fucking grab it , short stack, if you want it" this was fucking amusing.

  ___________________________________

                                       Your POV 💜

        He was so fucking annoying . I floated up and grab it . He barrow his eyes brows, before he gave me this unsettling smile .

         He aim his explosions at me and I watch his face as these black shadow arms appeared out of me . They shield his explosions from me .

          " What is that ," A shock expression flash across his face . " What is your quirk"

          " Not telling" I know that would piss him off . What could I say though . I don't even understand my powers .

          " Whatever " he grabbed my arm and try to throw a  punch. A caught his hand and I kicked his leg in . We fought hand to hand for a good hour . He finally had me pin to the ground. shit.

          " Ha I won" he had a satisfied smile on his face . I spit in his face, his eyes flash . " You fucked up  princess" he made an explosion in his hand . Then the alarm went off. The one I set, so we wouldn't be late for school.

       " Your fucking lucky but next time you try a move like that. I will kill you" He got off of me and grabbed his bag .  " Where the bathroom so I can change into my uniform?"

___________________________________

     

Katsuki POV 💥

After I got out of the bathroom, I couldn't help but to look around . I'm in allmight house it was kind of crazy. How does she not get lost in this place .  I saw a door with( Y/n ) name  in purple letters, on it . I open it .

     This must be her fucking room. It was organized and huge. She had paintings covering the walls . There we're actually beautiful . She had paintings of cherry trees and the great waves . There were several others that were beautiful also . Every stroke she seem to put time and passion in it .

  A couple of them caught my eye though. It was a throne made of bones and dry blood . On the throne sat a lady in crown; with a smile on her face that send chills down my back.

    Another one was a baby in a crib . With sharp knives for a mobile . The baby seem to be sleeping peacefully though.  Why would she paint something so fucking twisted.

   " I see you figure out my secret " she laugh . Standing at the door way " My love for painting, those two your looking at were from a dream I had.”

   " I don't fucking care , okay I got lost in this stupid house" Okay I was embarrassed I was caught in her room . Why would she paint her nightmares though .

    Then I saw it on her desk . A picture of her and deku. He had his stupid arm around her . This made me so sick . " Why the fuck do you have a picture of you and that loser"

        " We spent the summer hanging out and he not that bad" she was smiling while reminiscing about it . That made  my blood boil for some reason.

      " He a quirk less no one" So why is she so close to him. He not even good enough for her . Then again deku said he been training with allmight . That's probably why they hung out . She had to be his friend and didn't want too.

     " He like a brother to me and he not Quirk less" her smile went away " We have to go we're going to be late"

        Hah loser deku stuck in the brother zone. She grabbed my hand and pull me out of her room. She was so damn confusing . One minute she talking shit to me and, the next she has this innocent and sweet act.

  ___________________________________

                                 Todorki POV 🤍❤️

      The bell was about to rang . Where was Y/n .  Then I saw her  walking in with bakagou . I was so confused. Everyone was watching them and the tension between them .

       " Oooo bakagou get it" Kiri laugh . I thought I saw bakagou face turn pink but it was gone so quickly.

     " Shut up you shit hair, we were just fucking training . Something you need to do" he yelled. He so ignorant.  Yet Y/n laugh at this . He doesn't deserve a second of her attention.

      I got nothing to worry about . His personality is flaming shit. He don't have a heart to even look at her like that, does he?

      Everyone was having a argument over who was the class reps . lida came up with  a system . Y/n came over and sat on my desk . I try my best to not let myself blush .

      " So who did you vote for" she ask . She had a strand of her twirling it around her fingers. She was so damn beautiful.

     " Midoriya of course" I reach into my bag . I saw some purple Sakuras on my way to school. They reminded me of her . " I got something for you" I handed her the flower.

     " Oh thank you it is beautiful" her face lit up . She lean over to kiss me on the cheek as a thank you. " I don't know where to put it" she shyly blushed .

      I took the flower out of her hand . I moved the hair out of her face and, place the flower in her hair . Her face seem to redden and it was so adorable.

    " Are you all right bakabro" kiri said , getting the class there attention.

   " I'm fine, shitty hair" he glare over to me and then look back to kiri .

     " Are you sure because you burnt your text book"  bakagou look down at his hands . It was clear that he didn't realize it .

     " Yeah I did it on purpose, shut up" he growled.

      The votes came back and Izuku  was the class rep.  Everyone agree with this . Y/n jump off my desk to give Izuku a hug .  When she did her skirt went up to farther and I saw more then I should for a second . I had to stop my mind from thinking about it to much .

    " Who the in the hell  voted for that fucking looser" Bakagou lost his shit .  He a human version of a headache.

____________________________________

                                      Your POV 🌸💜

        I grabbed my tray, to go set next to Todoroki. When a hand  grabbed my arm . " Remember  you set with me now" katsuki shouted.

        " Oh so you admit that I won earlier" I smirked. I piss him off by my comment . He kind of look cute when he was frustrated.

       " No, I'm just being fucking generous . Letting you eat with me after you fucking loose . You still have to take me out to eat" he was shouting . The cafeteria was looking at us .

      " Fine but only because your making scene" I sigh .  I took my seat next to bakagou , when kiri came over .

“ Hey your in my seat” he whined

“ I’m sorry, here I’ll move” I pick up my tray and stood up.

“ Sit the fuck down Y/n . You were here first” bakagou ordered.

“ It’s alright Y/N I’ll set on the other side of you” he consented . I gave him an apologizing look, bakagou was such an ass.

Me and kiri was talking about (your favorite show f/s ) . He made a joke about the show, I started laughing so hard the milk came out of my nose . It was so embarrassing.

“ Hey so Y/n, do you want to come over tonight . We could watch the new episode and eat snacks��� he babbled.

“ Yeah that’s sound like fun!” I replied

Out of no where an alarm went off. Everyone rush to the front door to see what happening . Bakagou grab my arms and led me to an empty class room.

Please like and give feed back so I can do better and keep going I would love it so much

[dragonhrte]

“Αγάπη” (Agapé) 1st Petal

Summary: Pallas is a life coach and matchmaker who spends her days helping other people find their happiness in life, having forgotten to search for her own. Her business running smoothly and with little to no hiccups until one phone call upsets her whole world. Bakugou Katsuki, a handsome and famous confirmed bachelor, has found himself longing for something unusual, a relationship with substance. Swallowing his pride he calls Pallas initiating an interaction that will change their lives for the foreseeable future. Will the matchmaker make a match or get matched?

Chapter Length: 10k words

Beta-readers: @samanthaa-leanne​, @honeytama​, Thank you @pixxiesdust​ for beta reading before it was considered nsfw​, @natsuosfairy​

Tags: @bnhabookclub​

Warnings: Cussing/ Cursing/ Mature Language, Suggestive Content, Physical Assault

Bakugou’s P.O.V.

I put in the combination to my lock, deftly maneuvering the dial in a series of fluid motions, easily popping it open after years of repetition. My body moves of its own accord, the process of getting suited up being muscle memory at this point.

Some other hero in the locker room clears his throat before saying, “Hey Bakugou, it’s been a hot minute since we last saw each other huh?”

I merely grunt in response, placing my civilian clothes on the shelf after folding them, and continue suiting up for my shift.

“As talkative as ever I see. Anyways, you seem a bit down. I know I’m not Kirishima, and we’re not as close, but I thought I’d give you a quick piece of advice. Getting out of a relationship sucks, but you can’t let it get you down for too long.”

He pauses and waits for a response from me. When there is none he continues, but not before I hear a small comment to himself, “It’s like talking to a wall.”

My left eye twitches at the remark. I don’t even spare him a glance as I finish up with the final pieces of my hero costume. I shut my locker door with more force than necessary then lock it, swiftly turning around and leaving the locker room to head out for my shift. I glance at the clock briefly, making a mental note of the time as I stamp my time card. ‘The reason why you felt like you were talking to a wall is because you couldn’t take the hint that I don’t want any interaction, despite that hint being practically written in bold red letters across my forehead.’

“I’m fucking Katsuki Bakugou, Pro Hero, top in the nation. I don’t need nor do I want your opinion. Tch.” I say to myself, the words ringing through my head as I push open the heavy door and step out of the building to start my patrol.

⇜↭⇝

I lean back in my desk chair, and stretch. The reports for the day are all filled out and ready to be handed in. I take my phone off my desk and check the time. ‘2:58 am, I should put these papers on the admin. assistant’s desk, after I log off, then I’ll go punch out.’ I log off my computer before picking up the stack of reports and head over to the assistant’s desk, and placing it on the only free and available space. I pick up a sticky note from off her desk and write today’s date, then grab a rubber band from the jar on her desk and secure it around the stack of papers. ‘I swear I don’t know how she’s managed up until now, her desk is never organized. It’s a miracle we’re not backed up at the moment with the state her desk is in being in constant disarray.’ Turning away from her desk I walk towards the locker room to change and clock out. ‘Damn, I did not distract myself nearly as much as I would have liked to today. I think I know what...’ Pulling out my phone I tap on the messaging app and open up the chat between myself and my best friend since high school. ‘A sparring session with a long-time friend might just do the trick.’

Bakugou: Spar tomorrow morning?

Kirishima: Sure, np!

I finish taking the rest of my suit off and get lost in the motions of putting my civilian clothes back on, my mind returning to my recent break up. ‘I knew that woman was dating me partly based on me being a hero, but damn, to have her shove it in my face that it was the only reason she was dating me to begin with, packs a bigger punch than I thought possible.’ I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets while reflecting on the events of my most recent shift, and then heave out a sigh, “Could just go out for one or two beers,” I mumble to myself, taking a quick glimpse behind my shoulder.

⇜↭⇝

*Phone ringing*

The sound coming from my phone sets off a piercing wave of pain through my brain. ‘God damn, who the fuck is calling me this early in the morning?’ I swipe my finger across the screen stalling for a moment to allow the phone to recognize my fingerprint, and then press my phone against my ear. I throw my arm across my face to block the stinging sliver of light from shining into my eyes through the slit in the curtains.

“What’s up?” my voice comes out, raspy and barely above a whisper, but it still sounds like it’s echoing through my head.

“Hey, Bakubro, why aren’t you here yet?” I let out a low growl at the cheery tone on the other end, and wince at the old nickname, a teasing endearment made years ago, that just kind of stuck.

“What do you mean?”

“Dude it’s 9:45 right now, you’re late.”

I jolt up, and throw my covers off of myself and recoil slightly from the blinding pain the light brings on, before haphazardly scooping up my open gym bag. I rush toward the door, staggering a bit as I stuff my feet into my shoes. Nearly toppling over as I miss the wall I intended to use for support.

I do a quick pat down of myself, “Phone, wallet...” I look around frantically, the knowledge that Kirishima will not let go of something like this for the next week, no at least a month or so, is like being doused with a bucket of ice cold water. I can hear his smug tone already, putting a hand against my head and reeling out the door. ‘The gym is roughly a five minute run away. I’m not running that feeling like this, I’ll just walk it instead.’ I head for the stairs and open the door, someone has just slammed the door closed on a different floor, which has me seeing stars from the echoing in the stairwell. ‘No way in hell, am I going to suffer through shaking my brain around as I speed run down the stairs. Fuck that.’ I turn on my heel and head for the elevator, letting out a sigh of relief at the quick service and the gentle music, the lights, however, feel like they’re piercing straight through my skull and out the other side. The small jostling motion from arriving at the base floor sends a wave of nausea through me, one I haven’t felt in years, not since I was younger and less experienced with my tolerance levels for alcohol.

“Shit,” the familiar swear coming easily to me as I all but throw myself out of the elevator, muttering, “For fucks sake, pull yourself together.” as I leave the apartment complex.

⇜↭⇝

As I walk up to the gym, Kirishima spots me from his place leaning against the wall outside.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Kirishima says joyfully, clapping as if congratulating me on my appearance. I respond by flipping him the bird.

As we enter the locker room, I open the side pocket of my gym bag and grab a bottle full of pain killers, pop two in my mouth and swallow them dry.

“Kirishima, could you keep it down I’ve got a splitting headache.”

“Oh, did someone have a bit of fun last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if you’re into that kind of thing, I won’t judge. You know I’ll support you now matter what, right? It’s what friends are for!”

“What are you going on about?” I ask while leaning my head against the cool locker, the chill giving a small reprieve from the now constant pulsing throughout my skull.

“Dude.”

I look at Kirishima, my aggravation settling into my features as I turn to address him directly. Kirishima points down at the floor directing my attention to a certain article of clothing, my eyes widen in shock. The garment in question is sitting on the floor betraying my activities from the night before.The bra itself is pretty bold, it’s bright red and lacy with highlighter orange accents.

“What the fuck?”

“It dropped out of YOUR gym bag.” Kirishima’s face lights up in delight.

I let out a small, “Tsk.” and snatch up the garment, shoving it into my gym bag. I take out the lock from my bag and toss the bag into the locker, closing and locking it afterwards. I glance over at Kirishima, whose face is bright red from attempting to suppress his laughter, finally he breaks down in a fit of giggles.

The absurd situation brings a reluctant smile to my face, and a small chuckle escapes my lips. I shake my head and nudge Kirishima with my elbow. He is currently buckled over, barely maintaining an upright position holds up his pointer finger, signalling for me to wait.

“Give...me... a minute.” Kirishima manages to breathe out in between fits of laughter.

I roll my eyes in annoyance at Kirishima’s discomposure, ‘It’s not like it was even that funny...’

“You know, I’m gonna pay you back for laughing at me right?”

Kirishima manages to nod his head yes as he takes in some deep breaths of air, to calm himself down. We head out of the locker room together and make a beeline for the open mat area.

“It’ll be worth the pain, because the look on your face was priceless bro.”

I pound my fists together in imitation of Kirishima’s signature move, signalling to him that I’m ready.

“Hey man, don’t you want to get warmed up or something before heading straight into it?”

I shake my head, “Nah. No need.”

Kirishima shrugs and settles into a starting position. We lock eyes and we both nod, we circle around each other for a few moments, an air of seriousness about us. Then, I lunge at Kirishima, my right arm outstretched, he quickly dodges my maneuver. He steps towards me and sweeps his foot under my leg, I drop to the floor immediately and he follows my descent. Quickly wrapping his arms around me, hooking his feet around my legs and letting his weight pin me to the floor.

He chuckles darkly in my ear, “Hehe, that was an unusually easy take down. Guess I’m getting stronger than you.”

I frown and put my hands down on the floor underneath me and push upwards. I pause after reaching full extension for just an instant, and then I suddenly drop down slamming our bodies down onto Kirishima’s hands and crushing them under our weight before Kirishima has the chance to activate his quirk.

Kirishima hisses out in pain, “Ow, you fucker...”

I push off the ground with one arm, shifting my weight and his by twisting my body quickly, so that I am facing him. I push my hands to the front of my chest and push upwards so that my hands are together and my elbows are pressing against his inner elbows. I then use my quirk setting off a small explosion, adding a boost to my arms pushing out straight. This breaks his strong lock-like hold and allows me to reach up and grab Kirishima by the ears. I pull myself up and pull his head down, bashing my head into his. Kirishima, however, activates his hardening quirk, so the action sends a new shock wave of pain through my brain stunning me and leaving me laying flat on the mat. The once dull pulsing has now been brought to the forefront of my attention. Kirishima hops up to his feet smirking down at me as I lay face up beneath him. I offer my hand and he takes it, pulling me to my feet. We go for a few more rounds, only using our quirks once in a while. The point of this sparring session is for me to get out as much energy and aggression with as little damage to the surrounding area as possible. I’m now drenched in sweat, the bleary-eyed mess from this morning is long gone. I bring my shirt up to my forehead to wipe away the sweat that’s accumulated there.

“Where’d you get those bruises from?”

“Huh?”

“Right there, did you get cupping done. Y’know, muscle therapy?” Kirishima motions towards a particularly nasty looking mark on my side.

I walk up to the wall length mirror of the gym to examine it at a better angle. Upon closer inspection, I notice what are clearly tooth impressions?

“Are you fucking kidding me...” I grumble under my breath, “the bitch marked me!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to stave off the inevitable headache leering its ugly head up, caused by yet another poor life decision. ‘My usual no marking policy when dealing with temporary guests either went completely ignored or I was so far gone last night that I completely forgot.’ I hastily drop my shirt back down hoping that no one saw the wince-inducing bruises scattered along my side. If the press gets a hold of a picture of me like that they’ll have a field day. The fling will turn into a week to month long ordeal to have to deal with. I shake my head attempting to clear my thoughts and turn back to Kirishima, who is staring at me with a look of concern.

“Hey I think I’m good for the day, what about you?” Kirishima just silently accepts that if I wanted to talk about it I would. Which is one of the main reasons why we’ve remained friends since high school. He is one of the few people who I can count on to leave me alone and give me my space while also calling me out on my bullshit when the situation calls for it. I simply nod my head in response, and we head back into the locker rooms to gather our things and leave.

⇜↭⇝

I grab my keys out of my jacket pocket and turn the key in the lock, only to notice the absence of the sound of the pins catching on the key as I turn it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, someone is inside my apartment. Raising up my hand, a few pops resound from my sweaty palms as I ready myself for whatever lay in wait beyond the door to my apartment. I turn the handle and kick the door open, both hands raised in defense of myself, the sound of a few explosions reverberating throughout the almost empty living space. I am greeted by the sight of some woman sitting on my couch in my living room. She doesn’t even look up from her bowl of cereal and the current show streaming on the television.

“What the actual fuck?” I exclaim.

The woman continues ignoring me as I take a few more steps into the apartment, her face bringing back blurry memories of the previous night. I am filled with disgust at the fact that I stooped so low as to pick up some floozy of a woman in my time of distress. ‘Why the fuck hasn’t she gone home yet?’ the question blinking back at me in neon lights. I approach the armrest of the couch that she’s currently sitting on and tap her on the shoulder.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing her?” I ask, I can feel my emotions bubbling to the surface on the verge of boiling over.

She takes a quick look in my direction and says, “Hey, good thing you’re here, I thought you should know you’re out of milk.”

A few moments of absolute silence pass by as I am completely dumbfounded by her nonchalant attitude. Narrowing my eyes I stare at the side of her head hoping for at least some respect, given the very prominent issue at hand. My brows knit tightly together, ‘Is she dumb? Is she for real?’ instead of speaking my thoughts aloud I say, “Thanks for the heads up, now leave.”

She puts the bowl she has down on the coffee table and stands up huffing as she does so, “But I didn’t even finish my show or my cereal.”

I sneer, “That’s MY cereal you’re eating.”

She crosses her arms and stamps her feet at me like an insolent child throwing a tempter tantrum, “No. I am going to finish eating, and then YOU owe ME a ride home.”

Pulling out my phone I swipe through my contacts until I get to the J section, calling up a friend of mine from the force. While the phone is dialing out the woman sits back down and picks up “her” bowl of cereal and continues eating.

“Hey Bakugou, what can I do for you?”

“Hey Joe, I’ve got a situation. I had someone over last night and she’s now refusing to leave.”

“Okay, I’ll send my people right over.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No problem man.”

⇜↭⇝

There’s a knocking at the door, and I walk over and open it, two officers are standing in the doorway awaiting entry, I sidestep out of the way and motion for them to come in.

“Hello officers-”

“Are you fucking kidding me!”

The woman who had been peacefully sitting on the couch watching whatever garbage was now on the television shoots to her feet.

“This is fucking ridiculous, I’m sitting here calmly minding my own business and you call the cops on me!?”

She storms off in the direction of my bedroom stomping her feet along the way. The officers move forward to prevent her from going further into the apartment, but I hold my hand up for them to remain where they are. Her voice carries through the apartment, mouthing off about the unfairness of the whole situation and the audacity I have for kicking her out, her complaints strewn with curses. Completely ignoring the fact that she is currently in MY apartment. Her voice stopping only to take a quick breath of air in and then continuing her ranting. ‘Of all the people...’ I sigh to myself as she comes hauling herself and her belongings through the hallway towards us. Reaching into my bag I procure the garment that had mislaid itself, holding it out to her with my fingers. The strap of the bra balancing precariously as she huffs by. She flounces a bit as she approaches the door, turning her head to address me to land one last remark, when she notices her bra.

I walk towards her and say, “I believe this is yours.”

Her face erupts into a brilliant shade of red, she squeals in outrage snatching the garment up and slamming the door behind her.

“Damn...”

“You sure know how to pick ‘em Bakugou.”

I glare in their direction and walk up to the door and open it, “Thank you officers, I appreciate you coming down here. Have a great day.”

They look at each other and then file out the door, after they leave I close the door behind them thankful to the quiet that follows.

Pallas’ P.O.V.

I walk into the coffee shop, the familiar tinkling of bells on the door and the smell of freshly-ground coffee beans bring a feeling of warm comfort. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get over the initial nervousness I get when I do an intake for a client.’ I mull this over while listening to the soft, mellow music playing from the various speakers strewn about the shop. While waiting in line, I pass the time by scrolling through my social media feed. The fake smiles and duck-faced selfies never-ending. It’s not long before it’s my turn to order, when I look up and approach the counter I’m greeted by an unfamiliar face ‘Oh, he must be new.’ the thought whisks through my mind as I take in the man standing in front of me. He’s got a soft attractiveness about him, and is obviously nervous give his frantic glancing around. His ocean blue eyes finally settling on me and he’s practically sweating bullets. I pick up on the tremor of his lip when he forces a smile waiting patiently for my order. ‘Given the fact that it’s about mid-day and I’ll be meeting with a new client I think I’m going to opt for my go-to comfort beverage.’

“Good morn- Er. Afternoon, what can I get for you today?” The barista asks, his face flushing in embarrassment at his small slip-up.

‘I’m sure he’s had plenty of those minor mistakes today, the first day jitters are definitely getting the better of him. I can imagine it’s probably been non-stop for him, one order after the next in quick succession. Forcing him into this wreck of nerves at the fast-paced environment.’

Standing there for a moment more, I try to show a bit of compassion, my eyes flick down to the name pin fastened to his black apron then back up to his face and say, “Hello Reggie, I think I’ll have a medium hot chocolate, with some extra whipped cream please!”

I flash him what I hope comes across as an encouraging smile, and opt to keep words of encouragement to myself, ‘He’s high-strung as is, there’s no need to make him feel worse by having a random stranger notice how much he’s floundering around and comment on it.’ Instead I reach into my wallet and grab some extra cash in addition to the money I owe for the hot chocolate. I hand the money for the drink to Reggie and drop the extra cash into the tip jar on the counter.

“Thank you, and here’s your change. Your order will be right up.”

I cup my hand so the barista can simply drop the small coins into my outstretched hand instead of having an awkward exchange of trying to pry them out of his palm.

“Have a great day.” We happen to say at the same time to each other.

Stepping to the side I look over and survey the seating area. There are booths and tables with single chairs available, which I would usually have no problem taking, however, I am meeting with a client so I need something more. My eyes land on my usual spot for when I meet clients and I am pleasantly surprised to find it empty. It’s the perfect placement, not too close to the door, where people coming in might interrupt and not tucked away in the corner where nobody will notice me. ‘The client should be able to notice me immediately after receiving her order.’ After setting my bag down I bring out my tablet and unlock it, and start going through the various documentation required if the client does decide to book more sessions. I’m interrupted from my review by the sound of my order being called out, I look up and see one of the baristas I am familiar with holding my hot chocolate, we lock eyes for the briefest of moments before they place it down on the counter. I stand up and walk over to the counter and gingerly pick up my order, and head straight for the little island in the middle of the shop with the extra creamer and sugar packets on it. After picking up one of the paper coffee sleeves and carefully sliding it onto my drink, twisting it around to get the proper snug fit. I walk back to the booth, slide onto the seat, and resume reviewing the prepared documents on my tablet.

I let myself relax, the lull of conversation around me creating a calm atmosphere. There’s some chatter behind me, some girls are discussing a recent rumor going around about the Pro-Hero, Ground Zero. I dismiss their chatter immediately, ‘It’s just gossip, so who cares.’ Despite the lack of basis for the rumor to stand on, the women behind me continue speculating. I finish reviewing my documents then pull out my phone to check the time. ‘My client should be here any minute now.’ Scrolling through my social media feed once more I notice the rumor the women behind me were discussing has spread like wildfire. I try to ignore it to the best of my ability, ‘It’s not my business to judge other people’s life choices.’ I pause for a moment, ‘Well, it is my business as long as they are a client that is...’ I’m broken out of my train of thought by a commotion coming from the pick-up counter. Some woman is yelling at poor Reggie, something about how he got the order wrong, insisting that she talk to the manager. I turn my head and see the back of hers, Reggie is visibly shaken by the confrontation.

The woman turns around and my eyes widen momentarily in shock, ‘That’s my new client.’ I groan internally then put on my brightest smile, and stand up.

I hold my right hand out in greeting, “Hello Sandra is it, I’m Pallas we spoke on the phone a couple days ago.”

It’s like a switch flipped within the other woman’s face. Her lips that were just pursed in a thin disgruntled line, spread into a wide smile.

“Hi, hello. Sorry about the delay, the employee got my order wrong.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that, why don’t we get right into things? Is there anything in particular you are looking to get out of my services?”

“Well, everything in my life seems to be a hot mess, I just want to get back on track.”

“That seems reasonable enough. How about we take a seat and go over your intake paperwork?”

We then spent the next hour talking about the various terms and conditions that come along with the contract. Sandra keeps complaining about every other word claiming that the contract is “too opaque and vague.”

“Why can’t you just fix my problems now, why do we even need a contract?” Sandra asks, her tone changing from calm to aggravated rapidly.

“The contract is here to protect both of our interests. Without it, I will be severely restricted in the extent to which I can help you.” I try my best to explain this to her as calmly as possible.

Sandra pushes several more times to do away with the contract, at this point I am considering excusing myself for the bathroom to scream out in frustration at least three times. Each time the urge comes over me, I simply look down at the small watch on my wrist instead, remembering the seemingly everlasting patience of my late grandmother. When we finish reviewing the documents I stand up, pick up my tablet and grab my bag in preparation to leave.

I say, “After speaking with you, I’m sorry to inform you that I don’t think that I will be able to provide you with the services you are looking for.”

“What?!” Sandra exclaims, shooting up from her seated position, her sweet demeanor gone in an instant and is replaced by a look of outrage, “You had me fill out all that ridiculous paperwork, forced me to pay you for this meeting, and you’re not even competent enough to take me on as a client!”

By now the entire coffee shop has gone silent at her outburst, in this moment I can’t manage to think of anything to de-escalate the situation, all I can think about is maintaining my composure and professionalism in the face of Sandra’s harsh comments.

I muster up enough restraint and force a smile, “I’m sorry for any inconvenience I have caused you.” I bow my head in apology.

“Oh, I’ll show you inconvenience!” Sandra shouts and then knocks my tablet out of my hands. I’m frozen in shock at her actions, my face stricken with horror as the tablet appear to drop in slow motion. It clangs against the corner of the table before hitting the ground. A crunch resounds through the deathly quiet coffee shop, my stomach clenches in reaction.

A softly whispered, “Oh shit” comes from the booth with the gossiping women. I look up to see the manager approaching us, sympathy for me written all over her face, but a quiet anger-filled aura surrounds her.

She clasps her hands together and addresses Sandra, “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’ve disrupted my place of business not once, but twice now. You have also managed to assault one of my customers as well. I suggest you leave now, I have already called the authorities.”

“I can’t believe you called the cops on me! I’d like to speak to your manager. This is horrible customer service!”

“Ma’am I am the manager. Now would you please come with me.” The manager wraps her arm around Sandra’s shoulder and escorts her out, the jingle of the bells signalling that they have exited the building.

I take a deep breath in and bend down, picking up my tablet to assess the damage. Pressing the power button does absolutely nothing the first time, the lock screen doesn’t come into view or anything, so I hold the power button down and the start up sound comes from the tablet but the visual that accompanies it is absent. I try turning it off and on again one more time, after a drop like that even with the case on, there’s no way I’d expect it to still be functioning.

Unfortunately, my expectations are fulfilled, my tablet is officially out of commission. I drop it into my bag and lean against the table, waiting for the cops to show up. After a few minutes I think to myself, ‘I hope people just leave me alone right now, I am so not in the mood for some stranger to have pity on me at the moment.’ I clench and unclench my jaw a few times to try and relieve some of the tension in my body, and the I feel a gentle, hesitant tap on my shoulder. Turning my head slightly to see the new barista, Reggie looking at me apprehensively, he opens his mouth and closes it several times before I see his lips move, but I can’t find it in me to focus on what he’s saying. All I can hear is a rushing sound filling my ears... Reggie moves forward and grabs my shoulders, shaking me lightly, “-you okay?”

I nod my head and croak out, “Yes.”

“Are you sure? You’ve got quite the grip on that table there.”

Looking down I notice exactly what he’s talking about. My knuckles appear to be bleached white, my hands are holding the table in a death grip. I manage to pull my hands away then open and close them to work the blood flow back into them. I turn around and lean against the table and let out a nervous laugh.

My heart is hammering against my chest, the roaring sound in my ears has died down enough to the point where I can hear myself say, “I’m a bit taken aback is all. I mean I was expecting some reaction from her, but not that one...” I trail off and glance behind me briefly and catch a glimpse of Sandra talking to an officer, it’s then that I hear the bells chime and the other officer walks in. He strides over to where Reggie and I are standing after scanning the room of patrons for a moment.

“Hello ma’am my name is Officer Schmoe. I need to ask you some questions. May I see your ID so I can get your name down correctly?”

“No problem, here you go.” I say after reaching into my bag and retrieving my ID out of my wallet, and handing it to him.

“Here you go.” he says after jotting down my name then handing it back to me. I quickly put it back in its designated slot in my wallet and then turn back to the officer.

Officer Schmoe takes out a notepad from his shoulder pocket then asks, “What happened?”

“Well, Ms. Sandra Bonde and I were having a meeting here and after reviewing some documents and speaking with Ms. Bonde I informed her that I would not be able to provide my services to her.”

“What is it that you were not going to do for Ms. Bonde?”

“I am a life coach, and after speaking with her I determined that the problem was beyond my ability to assist her.”

“Okay, then what happened?”

“Well, I was standing up getting ready to leave when I told Ms. Bonde this, she stood up and said something of how it was unfair that I forced her to pay for an initial intake when I now plan on not taking her on as a client. I responded by saying I was sorry for any inconvenience I had caused her. She then said something along the lines of I’ll show you inconvenience, and smacked the tablet that I have for business out of my hand and it dropped to the floor after hitting the corner of the table. The manager came over and asked her to leave, I tried turning the tablet on afterwards and it is no longer functional. I will either have to get it fixed or replace it.”

“Can I see the tablet in question?”

“Sure.” I grab the tablet and hand it over to him.

He looks at it and turns it over in his hands, examining it from different angles, “Would you like to file charges against Ms. Bonde?”

I freeze at the question, ‘I mean I could, and I would most likely win, and that would all be fine and dandy. However, I would probably be forced to interact with that woman a dozen or so more times before the case was over. I do not feel like putting myself through that kind of torture.’

“No, I would not.”

He tries the power button the same as I did and gets the same results, absolutely nothing, “Okay, ma’am, here you go.” He hands the busted tablet back to me and I take it from him, then place it behind me on the table.

“Could I have your contact information in case we need to ask some follow up questions later on?”

“Will a business card be okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

I root around in my bag for a moment until I find my cards, they’re still in the envelope they came in when I first ordered them. “Here.”

Officer Schmoe takes the card and places it in his shoulder pocket along with his notepad, “Thank you for your time ma’am and have a good rest of your day.”

I nod at the officer and smile as he turns on his heel and leaves the store, I pull out my phone and check the time, this whole encounter has put me at least two hours behind schedule, ‘I’ll just have to work a bit later in the office ton-’

There’s a resounding CRACK from outside, it’s sudden and pulls my attention immediately to look out the window. My eyes meet Officer Schmoe’s as his head is whipped sideways, I look past him to see his partner putting cuffs on a struggling Sandra. His partner looks pissed, ‘I would be pissed too if I had her screeching at me for the past half hour or so, and to top it all off, her smacking your partner in the face.Oof.’ I turn back around and put my belongings back into my bag. The bells jingle and the manager walks over to me with the sweetest smile, her demeanor putting me at ease. “I’m sorry you had to got through all that. Pick something to drink, my treat.”

“I’d like a hot chocolate please.”

The manager turns to Reggie and says, “Think you can manage a hot chocolate on your own?”

He nods and scurries around behind the counter to make the drink.

⇜↭⇝

Fidgeting with my keys, trying to get the key to my office open with my mostly empty drink in one hand and my bag in the other is probably entertaining to any onlookers, amused by my struggle and lack of forethought. I finally manage to find the right key and slide it home into the lock, I turn it and push to let myself in. Flicking the lights on as I enter, closing the door behind me before walking over to the thermostat, unfortunately I ended up staying out longer than expected so it will have a small effect on my bills. Yet another thing to add onto the growing list of unfortunate events for today. The chill of December has settled in my bones and I need to change that, fast. The free hot chocolate definitely helped me stave off the cold while I was on the bus, but the walk to the office didn’t help me feel any warmer that’s for sure.

I walk through the office space all but dragging my feet before I plop down into the chair at my desk and turn on my laptop. ‘I’m going to waste so much paper. There’s a reason why I switched things over to digital...’ The login screen comes up and I type in my password, the work that I had open from before is still open, ‘Good, that makes things a little easier.’ I pull up my email and write up a quick memo to the clients I’m supposed to see over the next week informing them of the slight adjustment given an unfortunate occurrence. Clicking off my email I review the file for the client I am meeting with tomorrow, and make sure I have everything I need compiled and print off some notes that I made on potential goals they need to set. I get a few emails back, responding quickly with their understanding. Some other people are slow to respond. I even have one person say that they aren’t going to pay me more just because I broke something. I immediately saved that to respond to at a different time, being in no state of mind to do so now and think to myself, ‘I know I said I was going to work late tonight to make up for lost time, but it just isn’t happening. I am officially done for the day.’

I put alligator clips on the notes separating each client. After putting all the notes in my bag next to the tablet, I grab a pen from off my desk as well as a sticky-note. Writing out a reminder to call up tech support and find out a quote, I take the sticky-note off of the stack and place it on the brim of the laptop and shut everything down. Returning to the office entrance I slide the deadbolt into place, and give the doorknob a quick tug making sure my office is secure. I turn around and grab my phone and keys from out of my bag and head to the stairs leading up to my apartment. Rustling the keys around until I find the right one, and then unlocking the door, “Hey, sorry I’m late, I’ll throw something together real quick!”

I turn around and lock the door behind me then place my keys on the hook beside the door. Walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge I think about what I can make for dinner. After staring blankly at the contents with nothing coming to mind I come to a decision. “You know what, how’s frozen pizza sound to you?”

I crane my neck to the side listening in for a response and I hear an affirmative noise over the sound of the television playing in the living room. I close the fridge, open up the freezer and take out the frozen pizza, wiggling the box a bit to try and slide it out from under the other frozen goods without taking everything out. ‘Success!’ I think to myself once I’ve pried it out of its spot without the entire freezer falling out onto my feet. Quickly setting the oven to the right temperature and then I rip the box open and put the pizza on a pan to cook on. While I wait for the oven to heat up I start talking to Neville in the other room, “So remember how I was saying just yesterday that work has been pretty slow lately. Well, remind me to watch what I ask for next time because I had quite the interesting client today.”

I hear an inquisitive noise from the other room, “Yes, I am aware you can’t hear me very well, I’ll be there in just a minute, give me a moment to put in the pizza.”

The oven beeps signalling that it has finished the heating process. I slide the pan into the oven, set the timer on the stove and walk into the living room joining Neville on the couch. He slides over and rests his head on my lap, he looks up at me expectantly and I chuckle a bit. I reach down and massage his head, his hair soft and velvety to the touch, the repetitive motion eliciting a content sigh from him and I continue telling him the events of my day. From the initial conversation between me and Sandra to her outburst, and finally the image of seeing Officer Schmoe reeling back from Sandra’s assault, her being put in handcuffs and hauled away. Throughout my retelling, Neville sat patiently listening to everything I had to say, making small noises here and there indicating how he felt exactly in regards to what was being said. It’s moments like these that I appreciate him the most. He’s not very vocal, but he is an extremely good listener and just that alone helps ease my stress on a hectic day like today. The timer on the stove beeps and Neville moves, letting me get up and go back into the kitchen. I put on an oven mitt from inside the drawer beside the oven and I hear Neville pad into the kitchen. After taking the pizza out of the oven, and placing it on the stove top I look over at Neville  who is licking his lips in anticipation.

“No, absolutely not. You know what dairy does to you. I am not dealing with your flatulence and explosive diarrhea for the next three days.”

He huffs at me and saunters over to his food bowl full of dry food, and eats a few bites before deciding he’s over it and leaving the kitchen. A definitive meow can be heard from the other room, and I sigh after grabbing myself a plate and putting a slice onto the plate.

“Oh, don’t be like that. It’s not like I wouldn’t mind giving you some it’s just your lactose intolerance is no joke my dude.” I say as I walk into the living room and switch through the channels idly.

Bakugou’s P.O.V.

“In local news this evening, a woman was arrested just this afternoon at a local coffee shop for assaulting an officer. The alleged assailant, a 31-year-old female, supposedly assaulted an officer after being informed that she would be taken down to the station for disturbing the peace among various other charges. We spoke with the manager of the coffee shop where the incident occurred and she claimed that the woman not only assaulted an officer but also assaulted a frequent patron of hers prior to the police becoming involved. We have not received any further information regarding the other party, and the manager has chosen to remain silent as to their identity.”

I watch the clip of the woman slapping the officer in question and recognize Joe clicking my tongue and turn off the television shaking my head. ‘Poor Joe, and I had just spoken to him earlier this morning. I guess I’m not the only one who’s had a shitty day then huh?’ I quickly grab a plain, black, hooded sweatshirt from the drawer in my room and pull it over my head. Looking around the room I am a bit surprised that the incident from earlier this morning did not leave my room in disarray. ‘Calling him was definitely for the best. If  her reaction was anything to go off of, without the cops she would’ve definitely trashed the place.’ I close and lock the door to my apartment. The stairs no longer a problem because the hangover from earlier is a distant memory. The familiar stairway down to the parking garage calmed me, the echoing and clanging of my feet against the stairs blocking out my thoughts. I push open the door and take in a sharp breath of air, the sharp chill invading my lungs. Even though I was expecting the chill given the time of year, it still caught me a bit off guard with exactly how cold it has gotten as the sun goes down.

Walking over to my assigned space and unlocking my car takes a matter of moments. The leather seats make my butt clench as it makes contact with the chilly surface. I turn the keys in the ignition and it starts up with a roar. Pulling out of the parking space is a quick maneuver of the steering wheel and then I’m on my way. Weaving in and out of traffic on my way to work, my head nodding to the music, I come to a stop at a red light and tap my thumbs against the wheel in time to the beat. It’s only a matter of minutes before I pull into the parking garage of the hero agency, stopping briefly to scan my ID card in front of the sensor. The machine beeps at me and then the automated gate bar lifts up and grants me access to the garage. I turn my head and wave at the guard sitting in the booth before driving to the second level and pulling into my space. I turn the car off and grab my ID and close the door, locking the car as I head into the stairwell.

When I step out onto my floor, the admin. assistant rushes over to me, she seems a bit frazzled, but not more so than usual and she says, “Bakugou, the boss would like to see you now. Before you get changed or anything.”

She scuttles off, probably to carry out some other task assigned to her by the boss. ‘What could he want, it’s not like I’ve gotten into any real trouble recently...’ The speculations are endless as I approach his office, the door slightly ajar. I knock on the side of the door frame anyway to announce my presence.

A booming voice urges me in, “Come in Bakugou, have a seat.”

I open the door and close it gently behind me, and then take a seat in one of the red cushioned arm chairs in front of his large desk. The boss’ presence is a bit intimidating as he looks up from a folder on his desk. He nods to acknowledge my presence, and then peruses the paperwork in front of him for another moment before closing the cover and meeting my eyes.

He stares at me for a moment before speaking, “I got a call this afternoon, there was an issue of sorts at your apartment this morning and the police had to get involved. When Kirishima came in for his shift earlier today I called him into the office and he was a bit concerned. I asked him what was going on with you and he mentioned that you haven’t been acting like your usual self. Now, you may not like it, but it is my job to pry. If you are not in the right mental state to do this job I need to bench you, even if it’s just temporarily.”

He stops speaking but continues to look into my eyes gauging my reaction, I don’t say anything in response to his words. I try and maintain a neutral expression, but the boss seems to see through it and says, “See that expression tells me that benching you might be the right call.”

The sides of my mouth turn downward into a frown, the thought of being assigned to desk work for an undefined amount of time does not appeal to me in the slightest.

“I am mandating you see the department therapist.”

I shoot up out of the chair, clenching my fists at my sides. A familiar scowl on my face as I exclaim, “I’m not crazy, why do I need to see a shrink?!”

The boss furrows his brows and says, “I know you’re not crazy, there are other reasons for needing to see a therapist through. If you want to stay an active Pro Hero you WILL see a shrink as you called it.”

“This is bullshit! Sorry. This is bullshit sir!”

The boss chuckles at that, then says, “I understand you’re upset but this is non-negotiable.”

“I go out for one night on the town-”

“It’s no about that. It’s not about the woman you brought home. It’s not about the police getting called. It’s a combination of all these things and I can tell from the way you’re responding right now it’s the right call.”

“But-”

“This conversation is over.”

I simply bow my head and say, “Yes sir.” and head back to my desk. I sit there for a few moments and contemplate a week or more of tedium chained to a desk and unable to do my actual job just stuck doing paperwork and watching the walls. ‘The boss never said that I wasn’t allowed to go on patrol today explicitly.’ I hop out of my chair and head over to the locker room, I get no more than two steps in that direction when I hear the admin. assistant day to me, “You know if you do that, the boss will know before you even finish getting changed.”

I huff in exasperation and annoyance then sit back down at my desk. I put my head in my hands with my elbows propped up on my desk, ‘I said it before and I’ll say it again. This is utter bullshit.’

⇜↭⇝

The bright fluorescent lights of the office have burned a circle in my retina, ‘I’ve been spinning around in this chair for about thirty minutes, if I don’t do something I’m going to lose my damn mind.’ I look over at the admin. assistant. She’s busy at work at least that’s what I think is happening, all I can see is the top tuft of hair peeking over the monitor to her computer, as she is otherwise surrounded by paperwork. Bringing forth the silent question as to how in the hell she saw me despite being barricaded behind stacks of papers. I stand up and walk over to her, tapping on the desk to catch her attention.

“Hey, I’m not going on patrol, but I am going to head over to the police department to see if they need anything.”

The clacking of her nails against the keys doesn’t stop even after I say something to her, but her tuft of hair bobs so I just leave, taking my badge from off my desk and my phone heading out the door of the main entrance. The cold filling my lungs with crisp air, it’s refreshing after being in the stuffy office for a few hours. The walk to the police station is short but the entire time there is a constant stream of thoughts going through my mind. ‘The past few weeks haven’t seemed especially different from any other. It’s been nothing but routine for me in terms of getting through work and getting over my ex. I didn’t think that my behavior had been too out of the ordinary.’ The sidewalks are still pretty busy at this time of night and I have plenty of company on my stroll to the police station. ‘Even so, I still don’t want to go to a therapist.’ The thought crosses my mind as I walk up the steps into the police station. The air in the police station is just as stuffy if not stuffier than that of the agency. Looking around I see the usual crowd, some new faces here and there but most of the personnel are the same. Then the person I least expected to still be at work comes sidling up beside me patting my shoulder, “Hey there Bakugou, it’s not your first day here so why’re you gawking around like you don’t know what to do with yourself?”

“Hey Joe, why’re you still here? Your shift was over hours ago right?”

“Well, yeah, but they forced me to get checked out by the doc just in case before I headed home.” he says pointing at the lurid bruise covering most of his left cheek, continuing “I was just picking up my stuff, on my way out the door.”

“From that woman earlier right? I saw that on the news right before I came in today.”

“Yep, and boy was she a piece of work, that one. Anyway, what brings you here?”

“Boss told me I was on desk duty, I figured I’d pop by and see if you guys needed anything. I am glad I ran into you though.”

“Is that so?” He looks at me with a questioning look on his face.

“Yes, maybe you can answer a question I have. Other than a therapist, who would someone go to for help, asking for a friend you understand.”

“Well, if it isn’t an actual mental health issue but more needing assistance with getting their life on track they could try a life coach.”

“Uh, huh.” I nod my head slowly at his statement.

“Not to say that a life coach and therapist are on the same level of course. However, the thing that they do have in common is that they help people who may be a bit lost in the weeds and not able to see a way forward.” Someone approaches the doorway and we move off to the side to avoid being in anyone’s way.

“I actually have a business card right here.”

Joe pulls the card out of his shoulder pocket and hands it to me, I take it and put it in my jacket for later. We talk for a few more minutes, Joe complaining mainly about how much paperwork he’s going to have to deal with now that the woman who I have learned is Ms. Sandra Bonde is in custody. We laugh a bit at the comment, knowing full well the only reason we do any paperwork is because of our jobs. Paperwork takes up so much of my time, I’d rather be out on patrol than sitting down at my desk doing mindless busy work, filling out forms and whatnot. The idle thought causes my eye to twitch in annoyance, reminding myself of my mandatory desk duty, I don’t know how I’ll survive.

We part ways as he heads to the direction of the subway and I stay put. After conversing with the officer at the front desk I wait a few minutes for some files on small time villains they were going to send over later, and with those in hand I walk back. Even though the whole point of me going to the police station was just a ploy to get out of the office I feel glad that I could accomplish something even if it is as mundane as carrying files back and forth. I pause for a moment, I did accomplish something else as well, I have the business card of the life coach that Joe gave me.

I am greeted by the stale hot air of the office and the sound of keys tapping away at the keyboard, coming from the admin. assistant’s desk who is as always surrounded by mountains of paperwork. I almost feel bad as I walk up to her and say, “Here’s what they had for us at the station.”

She simply looks up at me and says, “Just add it to a stack and I’ll get to it.”

After placing the papers onto one of the smaller stacks I head back to my desk. Dropping down into my chair and looking at the bare desk in front of my. I lean back in my chair and look up at the tiled ceiling pockmarked with holes. The standard soundboard material is a soulless institutional white-grey and lacking anything better to do, I start counting the holes, ‘This’ll be better than staring at the lights. At least I won’t blind myself out of boredom.’

⇜↭⇝

“4,262... 4,263-”

“Hey Bakugou, I’m heading out,” says the admin. assistant, “Thank you for picking up the paperwork this evening. It did make things a bit easier. Oh, and the therapist should be calling you sometime tomorrow to schedule an appointment.”

She gives me a small wave and then walks away, a minute later I hear the door close and am alone in the empty office, all the other heroes for this shift are out on patrol. ‘Lucky bastards.’ I lean back in my chair once more and try to find the spot where I had left off but I had lost track. I click my tongue, although the task was pointless, at least it gave me something to do. I stand up and head over to the vending machines, a quick snack doesn’t sound too bad.

The selection is limited and most of the bags are probably filled with stale chips anyways. After a few moments I reach into my back pocket to grab my wallet after deciding on a bag of pretzels. My wallet is not there, I furrow my brows in confusion, maybe I left it at my desk? No, when I get back there it’s empty. I pat myself down, and the only things on me are my phone, hero ID, and keys. Wait, maybe I left it in the car? A sinking feeling in my stomach tells me otherwise, but I figure it’s worth a quick peek anyways.

Ten minutes later it is clear that it’s not here. I’ve checked under the seats, in between the console and the seats, and in the glove box. I even checked in between the seats and the side panel of the car by where the seat adjuster are, nothing. I huff out in annoyance at my fruitless search and resist the urge to slam the door to my car, closing it behind me and lock it before heading back inside ‘Great if it isn’t at the house I will have to call around and cancel all my cards, just what I need.’

⇜↭⇝

I have managed to accomplish nothing in the four hours after getting back from the police department other than count the divots in the ceiling and down eight cups of coffee, I have never had that much coffee in one shift before. I spent hours literally staring at the ceiling, hopefully this desk duty nonsense will be over soon. I can’t sit at a desk all day, my brain will atrophy. Maybe I won’t even need to talk to the shrink more than once, I’ll contact the life coach, set up an appointment and then I’ll be out on patrol in no time. The boss is just giving me a nudge, he’s not holding my hand on the issue.

I drive back to my apartment a bit slower than usual, lost in thought. Considering what I should say to the therapist and life coach that will finish up this whole scenario as quickly as possible. My train of thought lasts until I get to the parking garage of my apartment complex. The dim lights of the garage a bilious yellow hue against the stark night.

I unlock the door to my apartment, take off my shoes and walk inside, “Okay, now where the hell is my wallet?” I say to myself as I lock the door behind me.

I spend the next few minutes walking around the house wandering about, and have made a full circle in my search for my wallet. I sigh and take off my jacket, walking over to the coat hanger shelf by the door, I notice my wallet placed on the shelf. I take in a deep steadying breath, ‘It’s been here the whole time. At least I don’t have to cancel all my cards now.’  I rest my keys on the shelf next to it and take out the business card from Joe out of my jacket.

Padding into my room, the floor is chilly despite the socks on my feet. My thumb runs over the surface of the card. It’s smooth and warm to the touch after being in my jacket pocket for so long. I set it down on my bedside table and quickly undress, putting on my pajamas, readying myself for bed. After pulling my shirt over my head I pick up the card and walk over to my desk, sitting down in the chair and opening the laptop. While waiting for the login screen I look down at the card in my hands. It has a matte finish, and is heather gray in color, the black lettering standing out from the soft tone of the card stock. I flip the card over in my hand and see that it’s one sided. The small chime of the laptop lets me know that the startup screen is on display and I can log in. My fingers tap lightly at the keys, pausing every so often to glance at the card for reference. After typing the website into the url bar at the top of the browser the page loads up instantly. The platform is simple and easy to navigate, I find the application for the intake immediately. Looking over the requested information I scroll to the bottom of the page and come to a decision. ‘There’s no way I’m filling all of this out. I’ll just call them when I wake up.’

[darkhymns-fic]

A Little Opera Goes a Long Way

Colette Brunel has finally moved on from her pop-idol group to more freely sing what she wants, while famous YouTube star, Lloyd Irving went from playing covers on video to going on the big stage. It was only a matter of time before they teamed up and made a hit single.

But what happens when stage fright becomes a problem?

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Presea Combatir Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Slightly obsessed with idol colloyd helped by this art by @frayed-symphony! Would love to write more on this universe when I have the time.

-

The crowd outside was getting louder. 

They had been growing within the past few hours, and if she peeked out just enough, she could see the multitude of rave sticks and cell phones that lighted each wave from the fans. Colette was used to it – she had heard it so many times! Except, it was different now. Everything was different.

Colette didn’t typically perform in Palmacosta. The port city was a long way from her usual tour gig with her group, mostly going around Tethe’alla, starting out from Meltokio before going back. But the Governor had been more than pleased to let the concert go underway, a stage already being built before it had even been requested! More truth to the very idea that the new single had been such a hit.

When she had arrived, she had heard the ocean rushing across the shore, the beaches filled with with so many people. How nice would it have been to walk across the sand, but there was already so much to prepare for. Would she even have the energy to want to go in the evening?

Colette stood within a small corner, being as small as she could while other professionals scattered all around to get everything ready. Sound check, mic check, light check, special effects check, making sure there were no sudden dips on the floor for when they would perform, that no stray excitable fan had snuck their way backstage to meet the band. (This always happened with Alice though, so Colette didn’t think it would be much of an issue now?) 

Everyone was working their hardest to get things ready and perfect – and all they asked was that she would do the same.

As Colette messed with her green ruffled sleeves, her heartbeat took over the noise. Soon it was all she could hear, all she could even think about! What if she tripped on stage? (Again!) What if she reached a wrong note in her part of the song?

What if she only ruined things for…

“Colette?”

The backstage was dark, most of the technicians still further off into the sides, busy fiddling with the lights, the special effects that would take place. She saw the dazzling flash of the red lining of Lloyd’s outfit before seeing Lloyd himself. He must have found her the same way in the corner – her green and white ensemble a unique look, reflective gold bouncing off the eyes.

“Hey, are you okay? Sorry, they kept me stuck in the dressing room just to get all this stuff on.”

“Oh! I’m fine, it’s just… the usual pre-stage jitters, hehe.” Colette instantly smiled, winking at Lloyd with all the practiced flair of her idol persona. Although, she wasn’t supposed to be in that role now… She was being herself this time. Just Colette. With Lloyd. And…

“Ah, yeah? I’m kinda getting those too!” Lloyd laughed, and she heard the shakiness within its tone. It made sense for Lloyd. He had only performed a few times in front of an audience, and they were usually much smaller. His black gloved hands reached to pull back at his hair. “The uh, crowd is really loud, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah! But that’s a good thing!” She knew it was a good thing! So why the sudden beating of her heart. Could she really be this nervous? She kept pulling at her ruffles, they were all uneven! And so wrinkled! But wait, weren’t they supposed to be?

Then she saw Lloyd reach out to her…head? She felt his fingers briefly touch her hair, feeling warm.. “Your hat’s gonna fall off!”

“Huh?” Colette blinked. “Oh, it’s supposed to be tilted like that! And it’s held to my hair with a pin.” She bowed her head slightly for Lloyd to observe. “See?”

“Ohh.” Lloyd nodded. “Sorry, I was wondering how it was staying on!”

“Yeah! I’ve worn it before with my group…and sometimes we have to do dance routines so they make sure it stays on tight!” Colette pressed down on her skirt, still seeing wrinkles and dust and whatever else. Or maybe it had just been the lights… but wait, wasn’t it dark here?

She felt Lloyd’s eyes on her still, so she turned back to him, because her heartbeat was less distracting when she looked at him. Even if it still beat so much, its rhythm so steady. “I guess I’m not used to it,” Lloyd was saying. “This outfit feels really…uh, bright?” And maybe he was right, for the rose pinned on his front lapel was such a loud red, right over his heart. More than once had Colette wanted to reach out and touch it. Whoever had designed his costume had really put thought into all its details.

“It’s because of me. Remiel says I need to keep my image…” She was already on the search for a new one, as her producer was being even more controlling than usual. It had taken so much just to get this show to happen, her producer trying to block each step of the way. “I’m sorry, I really wanted it to be casual instead.”

“Heh, that’s okay though! I like that we kinda match, you know?” And when he grinned, even within the darkness of backstage, the sounds from outside reverberating the very floor they were on, she thought she felt everything stand still. “And…man, I’d wear anything just to perform with you!”

“Really?” she asked, still stunned. Star-struck. Completely and utterly. His outfit couldn’t match to his smile.

“Yeah! I still can’t believe we wrote something together!” His voice carried well through the noise surrounding them. And soon everyone would hear that voice, along with hers. Was it selfish of her to want to keep it for herself?

When in the studio together, working on their song, it had almost felt like he was singing only for her, his fingers moving over the guitar strings with barely a glance to them. To have such a voice and to play an instrument too… Why was he wasting time with her?

“Yeah, I’m so happy we did,” she said, still feeling her nerves jitter all around. “And… everyone will finally get to hear it too!”

At that moment, there was some feedback sounding off from stage, distracting her slightly. But experience told her it was a few stagehands probably setting up speakers, making sure none of the wires would get in the way of their feet. They would still need to wear their mics later, and hopefully she wasn’t already wearing them and talking into it without realizing it was on, like she would do a few times before…

She shook out her hands a bit, while keeping her feet still. Her ruffles still looked so uneven, so wrinkled and frayed and… “Maybe I’m more nervous than I thought,” she finally admitted.

She waited for the moment for when Lloyd would be disappointed with her. Like the other members of her group would be, like her producer, and-

The same gloved hand, but now on her shoulder, forcing her eyes back up. Some of the lights started to flicker backstage, along with a shouted instruction from one of the technicians. They dazzled off Lloyd’s red cape, off the golden filigree that decorated the trim of his jacket.

“Hey…” he said, smiling still. She saw a little tinge of nervousness too, but not with the frustration she was used to seeing from so many people. “I’m still here.”

She nodded. “Yeah…yeah!” She nodded again, then felt she was doing it too much. “Sorry… I’m supposed to be used to this. I should…” Be the one to help you through this instead. How strange was it that the experienced pop singer would need comfort from someone who was still starting out?

“We…still have like 20 minutes before we go on,” Lloyd said, looking back towards the stage that was still out of sight for them, if not out of sound’s reach. “Wanna hang out in my room till then?”

Something about the way he said it got her breath hitched in her throat. But at least with all of her stage experience, she recovered pretty quickly. “Oh, I guess we could! Did you want to rehearse or…?” Sometimes she’d do so with her band, usually on Alice’s insistence which usually just turned into fights with Marta…

“Yeah, come on!” That same gloved hand moved down to grip her own, guiding her from the backstage to the hall. 

Passing a few concerned lookers (Colette hoped no one would think to pull out a camera), Lloyd soon took them to a door. There was a piece of paper on it with his name printed roughly. And also… a drawing?

“Oh! Is that supposed to be you?” Colette asked, recognizing the features, giggling at the exaggerated smile she had long grown to like.

“Agh, why’d he put it here too?” Lloyd blushed furiously as he quickly took it down from the door. “Stupid Zelos… sorry, I know it looks dumb.”

“It’s cute!” Colette announced. “Your friend is a good artist!”

“Is… are you sure about that?” But after crunching up the little poster into a paper ball and tossing it in a nearby garbage can, Lloyd tugged her inside the dressing room. “Anyway, I thought it would be good to get away from all the noise.”

“Thank you, Lloyd,” she said gratefully. 

His dressing room was a bit bare, much of it just some bags that he had taken on the trip, still in the luggage. Hanging on the wall, she could see the red jacket she saw him wear to his own shows, more casual than what he was made to wear right now. It looked so loose and comfortable. How nice it would have been to wear something like it too.

“…Also, I guess I wanna sit for a while first,” Lloyd confessed, sitting in his chair just then. Colette made sure to not mention that the same portrait of his face was also drawn on the back of the chair, though she still couldn’t help a giggle or two.

“So, which song should we practice first? ‘Star Shining’ might be an easy one to start with… Or maybe ‘Almateria’? Sorry, I should have thought it through before!”

“Huh?” Lloyd blinked up at her. “Uh, no I didn’t mean we should rehearse actually!”

“Oh…then what are we doing here?” Colette felt so genuinely curious.

“To relax, dork!” Lloyd said with a smile. Then that same smile turned a bit softer, his eyes flicking to the right side of him. She hadn’t caught sight of the instrument at first. “Well… I mean if you wanted something like that, it doesn’t have to be both of us, you know?”

She was only getting more confused by the minute! Was this Lloyd’s way of saying he didn’t want to perform with her on stage? “But both of our names are on the listing…” She brought her hands up, fingers pressing together nervously. “I mean… if you really wanted though, I can step out…”

“What? I…don’t know what you mean, I just meant I wanted to sing for you!” Lloyd reached over to grab the guitar that had been laying carefully by his seat. His fingers were already brushing across the strings, eliciting a few sounds that echoed around her.

She took that phrase to heart, hands now clasped together, the ruffles along her skirt, her arms, her shoulders, less on the forefront of her mind. “Sing for me?”

Lloyd nodded, adjusting the small pegs on the end. “Whenever I get nervous about stuff, sometimes I just play whatever. Um, guess I got it from my dad. He’d sing to me when I was little. Oh yeah, and he plays a pretty mean harmonica!” He was grinning again, planting both feet on the ground as he better fit the guitar on his lap.

Colette had never met Lloyd’s father, but the image of a younger Lloyd already tickled her. But she made sure not to mention it, because that would certainly be strange, wouldn’t it? “That’s…but you shouldn’t have to do this for me. I’m used to this…”

“Colette,” Lloyd called out to her, and she faced him again. 

His white jacket and the red rose hanging from it, black gloves already moving over the strings so deftly, just as it did in the studio that one day they had taken a chance, leaving all other obligations just to finally sing their song together after so many email exchanges and video calls. “Let me sing for you.”

She stood still. She had heard his voice dozens, hundreds of times. She had heard him through those videos before he’d get famous, hair disheveled, and his unbuttoned jacket hanging off his shoulders. His own album sat on her shelf back at home, the cover art for it so different from anything else she had seen. (So many stars and rainbows! With a nice drawing of a boy and his dog there too…) In all of those times, she liked to imagine he was singing for her.

“Okay,” she finally said, leaning against a counter, her skirt just making a tiny rustling sound as she shifted. “Um, what are you going to sing for me then?”

“Something my dad would sing to me,” Lloyd said. She thought his cheeks had gotten even redder. “So uh, don’t laugh too much. I can’t pronounce all the words right yet.”

“I won’t. I promise.” And she really did promise that. She didn’t want to ruin that smile.

The strum of the guitar, followed by his sound, by Lloyd, had always felt truer to her than anything else.

-

Only a few minutes later, a knock on the door echoed in the room. Luckily, the notes from Lloyd’s guitar had been on their very last. “Uh, come in?” he called out, his voice still within that range from before.

Opening the door, a small lady appeared. Her sharply pink hair was in contrast to the dark-hued clothes that most of the backstage hands wore. She wore a headset, and apparently one of the giant headlights in one hand – the kind that usually weighed a ton. “Five minutes until curtain time.”

“Presea!” Colette called out to her old friend, waving at her. “I didn’t know you were working here too.”

“I heard you would be performing, so I requested to join.” Presea shifted the headlight to better fit her grip. “Do you have your mics ready?”

“Yeah!” Lloyd went to retrieve his from his pocket while Colette did the same, but Presea had gone up to them, reaching to adjust it before silently requesting for both to bend down so she could have a better hold.

“I can stall if you need. But the crowd wants you.” Presea turned away after making sure the mics were pinned correctly to their clothes. Still, Colette caught a small smile from her. “I’m looking forward to hearing you both sing together.”

Presea already left, and soon it was just Lloyd and Colette in the room, their smiles wide and excited. From the concert, from the music still bouncing around in their heads.

“Still jittery?” he asked, taking the strap of the guitar to finally pull across his back.

“Yeah! But it’s the good kind now!” Colette was standing on her toes, swaying with the beat she still remembered. “You always sing so good.”

“Ah, it was just…like a lullaby, basically.” That flush again, and she wanted to believe it was because of her. So maybe, for at least tonight, she could. “But if you liked it, then I’m happy then.”

“I am! But…I’m also happy we can sing our song live now.” She turned to him, Presea already disappearing into the swell of the backstage darkness. Colette stepped out the door, but not too far off without her partner by her side.

“Heh, yeah… I’m still really surprised Goodness and Love was such a hit though!” With that, he followed Colette out of the dressing room, both heading towards the sounds of the crowd.

“Hm, I knew it would be,” she confessed, her heart racing. Jitters. But the good kind of jitters.

“Oh? How’d you know?” And somehow, in the way he asked her, she wondered if he suspected what she was about to say… So maybe it was okay.

“Because it’s you.” That was all she would say, teasingly sticking out her tongue before taking his free hand and rushing out with him on stage. But always making sure she didn’t trip them both.

Lloyd was grinning so wide once they came out under the lights, the glare setting the red dancing on his outfit, the green on hers. The crowd was loud, but there was only one voice she would listen for.

-

.

.

.

Everything was so loud, so fast and so much. This wasn’t just like singing out in front of the yard, or to any of his friends that happened to swing by home for a visit.

Lloyd was completely out of his element. 

Backstage, as he tried not to get in the way of other professionals, Lloyd gripped the handle of his guitar case, wondering if maybe he had just made a huge mistake. He was by himself, his so-called producer chatting with some other people in the field, (or just woman he spotted honestly), and he couldn’t bring Noishe along, even if the dog was on the album…He’d only get frightened by all the noise, and for once, Lloyd couldn’t blame him.

“Ugh, shouldn’t have let Zelos convince me…” he muttered to himself. The guy had clear dollar signs in his eyes when he told him about where he would perform. ‘You’re a big hit now! Don’t waste it!!’  

Lloyd knew he’d do better by just crawling into a hole. Any confidence he had hours ago seemed to have evaporated once reality set in.

It was just when he heard the rest of the lineup and …. He had been stupid to think that would matter. Wouldn’t he just embarrass himself on stage? Then she would see…

“Hi, are you Lloyd?”

He turned at the sound of her voice. Was it pathetic of him to have already recognized it then? He had heard her voice a hundred times, picking it out from the chorus of other voices, of other people…

Colette Brunel stood before him, wearing a green skirt, with frilly ribbons in her hair. She had a microphone in her hand, which seemed to echo with feedback suddenly when she held it a certain way. Once Lloyd flinched from it, she hurriedly turned it off.

“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean-“

“You’re Colette…” he said, already kicking himself for interrupting her. But his brain was going into overdrive, catching up with every admirable thought he had of her. “From the Angels group!”

“Oh! Yeah, hi! We’re performing too. The other girls are still getting ready to go on, so, I wanted a chance to talk with you!” She sounded quieter as she spoke, eyes cast downward. “I probably should have brought them with me, I’m sorry.”

“N-No, it’s okay…but…you know me?” He still couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yes, of course! I’ve watched your videos! I think they’re so good!” And with the way she spoke to him, he could almost believe it. That she liked his songs. She liked them. “I… I just wanted to let you know that your music is… it’s something I’ve needed to hear.” A pause. “Would you ever want to-“

“Colette! We’re on! Hurry up!”

“Ah! Okay, sorry, Alice!” Colette turned around briefly to wave away someone else. Lloyd recognized them too… but he’d never been a fan of that girl in the group. “Sorry, I need to go. But… I hope you keep writing your music! I, I really like it.”

If Lloyd died at that moment right then and there, even before he ever got a chance to perform, he’d be satisfied. For Colette to come up to him and tell him all this… “I… T-Thanks! I don’t…know what to say…”

Colette smiled, gripping her microphone, her ribbons bouncing with her motion. “Just, I hope to keep hearing you sing.” Another shout from way back, making Colette shudder. “Sorry, but good luck!”

And gone like that, disappearing into the crowd, into the bright lights and sound that made up this terrifying world Lloyd found himself in.

Yet the nerves passed through him, and his cheeks ached from smiling. I’ll sing…but for you then. But before he would go over his song, he’d sneak a glance at Colette’s routine, eyes for her, voice for her, and the crowd encompassing it all.

[uno-reverse-fic]

Chapter 11

When you woke you were greeted with a hard surface below you and a stinging sensation flooding through certain parts of your body. There was a bit of light coming in from an opening, allowing you to see that there was a stack of books to your right. You began to push yourself up but the pain started to grow. You had to clutch onto the books to your side to keep from falling over. As you peered around the corner you saw the opening to the desk you were sitting in. You could see the lower half of someone's blazer on the outside. You walked towards the edge and looked up to see the blonde slumped over tiredly glaring at the person in front of him, well more like through the person in front of him, who happened to be Hagakure. You heard Aizawa mutter something to the class before the desk shifted a bit. Katsuki leaned over to get something along the lines of a notebook from his bag. This was followed by a giant hand reaching into the desk for a pen. You could barely hear Aizawa's muffled words over the furiously intense scribbling of a pen across paper from above you. The scribbles stopped and Katsuki's hand reached back into the desk. You jumped at this opportunity and ran over towards it, you had no intention of being stuck in a desk all day. As Bakugo's hand neared the pile of pens it was reaching for, you tackled it, or well you tried. Your attempt in tackling him mainly consisted of you running into his hand, which didn't do anything. He froze for a moment before grabbing a pen and withdrawing his arm out of the desk. As he pulled away you tried to hang onto his finger but it was too late and you couldn't get a good enough grip on it. You fell back onto the desk and watched longingly as Katsuki's hand disappeared out of sight.

You really didn't want to be left alone in a desk, or drawer for that matter. You curled up on the floor in defeat and something poked at your side, you turned to see what it was but nothing was there. You sighed and you felt something heavy being laid over top of you, startled you whipped your head around to see massive fingers lowering onto your body, pinning you to the ground. Katsuki's hand stayed put for a few seconds before shifting its position. His fingers curled into more of a dome shape and his thumb rested against your back. The scribbling continued on for a few minuets before it was interrupted by the sound of the lunch bell. Normally this sound would mean freedom but for you this meant being shoved into isolation for the next hour. Katskui's hand shifted and your chest was pinned between his forefinger and thumb, your feet dangled in the air as he lifted towards his blazer. He slipped you into the inside pocket, making sure no one noticed before heading off to lunch.

You could hear the sounds of anxious high schoolers making their way towards the cafeteria to eat. The smell of food filled your consciousness and your empty stomach groaned with delight, the immense hunger you were feeling didnt make its way towards your thoughts until you remembered food existed. The second Katsuki sat down you frantically started trying to escape the pocket you were trapped in. The opening was much higher than you could reach, but food was the only thing on your mind and you kept trying. Bakugo reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and pulled you out, he set you down on the table. You gaped at the tray of food in front of you, and began to climb onto it, setting your eyes on a piece of chicken you ran over to it.

"What do you think your doing?" You froze and slowly turned your head to see him glaring down at you.

"Uhhhhh... eating?"

"No."

"Huh?"

"No. It's my food. If you want some get your own."

"I literally cant get down from this table without bringing death upon myself."

"That's your problem."

"Come on I'm starving!"

"When did you last eat?"

"Uhh about a day and a half ago. Can I have food now."

"No. You can remember how long ago it was so it wasn't that long. You can wait till dinner." You stared at him in utter disbelief as he declined you the right to eat at your own free will. Out of spite you decided to ignore him and start eating anyway but before you could even finish that thought Katsuki slammed his hand over top of you.

"Hey Bakubro! What's up?" You were enclosed in a tight fist that shoved you back into Katsuki's pocket. You spent the rest of lunch trapped inside of a blazer listening to a conversation between five people, who's voices you could recognize as a few of your classmates. Frustrated and still hungry, you curled up and began to daydream, letting your wishful thinking take over the entirety of your conscious brain.

"Today we will be doing more battle training, suit up and meet at Gym Gamma." You heard Aizawa say before the sound of chatter filled the classroom. The hand that you had been leaning against pulled away, leaving you alone. After what sounded like the rest of the class had left, you walked to the edge of the desk to look outside. Your wandering gaze was met with a pair of bright green eyes from the desk behind the one you were in. Izuku's expression turned from neutral to pure horror in less than a second. He looked around for a second and began walking towards Katsuki's desk. Realizing the situation you were in you backed further into the darkness. Midoriya did another check to make sure no one was around before bending down to look in. You continued backing up as his already wide eyes grew even larger with a mixture of expressions. He reached his arm into the desk and you ran for cover behind a few books in the back corner.

"S-Surō?" He stuttered, his voice was shaky, which would make sense. You had mysteriously disappeared only to reappear about an inch tall among Katsuki's belongs.

"A-are you ok-k? Is t-this r-real or am I hallucinating?" He slid the books out of the way revealing you, huddled in the corner. His hand neared you slowly, unsure what else to do you stayed put. You felt the tips of his fingers touch your side before flinching away.

"Holy crap you ARE real! Wait can you still speak? Do you know who I am? How did you get to be so tiny? Why are you in Kacchan's desk? Wait is the being sick thing an act or was that real? Do you even know what I'm saying? Wait am I just dreaming? Can you still use your quirk? Ho- ... are you ok?" You were still backed up against the corner, just staring at him with a mix of fear and happiness. You finally found someone to talk to other than Katsuki, but that person happened to be the one soul Katsuki resented most, you trusted him not to tell anyone, but how would Bakugo react to him knowing. Again Izuku's fingers touched your side but this time he scooped you into his hand and pulled you out of the desk.

"What happened?"

"Its a bit of a long story, just don't tell anyone, especially Katsuki, he'd flip out if he knew you found out, you know him." Loud stomping was heard outside the classroom and Midoriya quickly shoved you into the desk and moved the books back into place.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT NERD?!"

"N-nothing Kacchan!" You peered around the corner of the desk to see Katsuki in his hero costume trudging towards his desk.

You ran over to the back corner behind the books, you knew he was coming to get you and you really didn't want to get caught up in battle training. He took off his grenade-gauntlets and reached back into your hiding space and wrapped you in his leathery glove. You tried to squirm out of his hold but it only tightened the more you struggled.

"I don't want to go."

"You aren't, I'm shoving you in my backpack so you cant go anywhere. You think I'm going to bring you to training, you'll get yourself killed, that's also the reason why I'm putting you in my backpack, because you'll get bored and decide to explore, which is not a good idea." And so you spent the next few hours trapped in a bag with nothing to do.

MASTERLIST

[erintoknow]

don’t think that way

fallen hero fanfic, sidestep era with Ariadne, Ortega, and Anathema. content warning for discussion of physical abuse - inspired by a discussion question from @cheion-writes in the discord a little while back

~2.9k words

------

“Sidestep! What are you doing here? There’s no emergency going on.”

“I just… I want to be ready?”

Anathema gives you a skeptical look, a smile tugging at their face. “Uh-huh.” 

It’s been sitting at over a hundred degrees for the better part a week now, and even the super villains are staying indoors in front of their A/C units. That has nothing to do with why you’re planning to hang out at the Ranger’s HQ all day, of course. The presence of working air conditioning… is completely incidental.

You tug at the elastic of your face mask, willing the cool air to filter in faster. “Is that… is that okay?”

Anathema shrugs, “Steel just left to do a patrol, if that’s what you’re asking.” She moves to pat you on the shoulder, then hesitates seeing you already stepping back out of reach. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Thank god for masks. “Y-you’re fine.” You give her a thumbs up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Anathema gets you past the front desk; “She’s with me, Sarah!” and the two of you weave your way through the hallways of the building until you end up at Anathema’s office. Anathema motions for to grab a seat while she pulls up to her own desk. “Sorry, I was coming in to catch up on paperwork today. Not very exciting, I know, but it has to get done.”

You tilt your head, “You have to do paperwork?”

“Yeah… incident reports, give our accounts of how things went down, that kind of thing.” Anathema shrugs, leafing through a pile a folders and loose paper on the desk. “I don’t think most of it ever gets seen again? Not unless there’s a dispute, like someone rich gets a bee up their bonnet about property damage.” She looks up and waggles her fingers at you. “These babies are rated as lethal weapons you know.”

You laugh at that, “Well, I don’t want to distract you…” You scratch at your face. “Am I allowed to just, uh, look around? Maybe there’s a break room or something I can just… chill at?” This isn’t your first time inside the Ranger Headquarters, but there’s always been some pressing emergency to justify being here. You’ve never just… hung out before. It’s weird. Makes you feel weird. Why did you choose to come here again?

Anathema gives you a grin, “Probably not, but I won’t tell if you wont. If you go down this hall, take a right, there’s a break room with snacks and coffee at the end. I’ll catch up to you when I can.”

You tilt your head forward to approximate a smile. “Thanks Ana.”

“Themmy.”

“H-huh?” You rub the back of neck, anxiety creeping up over you. Did you misstep somewhere?

“If we’re doing nicknames I’d rather go by Themmy.”

“Oh. Oh, sure. Sorry, Themmy.”

Anathema smiles again before turning to back to her desk. “Don’t sweat it Sidestep.”

You take the shift in her focus as permission to head out. Finding the break room doesn’t take long, despite your temptation to linger and snoop around. You want to stay on the Rangers’ good side after all. 

Speaking of good side… the first thing you see on entering the break room is an old off-white refrigerator humming in the corner. Themmy did say there were snacks… Suddenly your stomach is very insistent on reminding you that you haven’t eat yet today. “Alright fine, you dumb thing,” you mutter to yourself as you go rooting through the room. Just something small to tide you over, that won’t be missed. There, a box of snack bars, not in the fridge but the cabinet beside it. One little bar won’t matter to them right? They’re all rich anyway.

You roll up your mask just enough to be able to take a bite and try to swallow down your guilt. Turn your focus to the rest of the room. From the window you can look down and see the street below, busy with very important looking people all on their way from one place or another. For a moment you’re tempted to reach down and read some of them, but the desire passes. They aren’t a threat, you have to remind yourself, there’s nothing you need there.

One entire wall is taken up by a huge piece of framed cork board. Notices of varying age and relevancy are posted, notes to other Rangers. You’ve met most of them at least once now. It still doesn’t feel real, having them treat you as… well, not an equal exactly, but human certainly. They have no idea what you really are. There’s a kind of rush to it, flirting with disaster like this.

You frown, shift focus to avoid the guilt. Take another bite of the snack bar. Not as sweet as you’d like, but beggars are never choosers. One corner of the board has a collection of pinned photos. No masks, no uniforms or costumes. No one you recognize. Smiling faces, children, older adults, the parents? A little girl is in the middle of blowing out candles on a cake. 

You grip your arm with your free hand as you finish the snack bar. You want to touch the picture, look at it closer, but it– it feels like there’s a wall between you. This isn’t a world you have any business being a part of. Something you’ve never had. Will never have.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?”

You jump, nearly drop the bar in your hand. How the heck did someone sneak up on you? Turn and– oh. It’s Charge. You step back and watch her as the woman saunters into the room with all the confidence of someone that knows exactly where she belongs.

“That’s my niece. Well, one of them? The family’s kind of huge, honestly.” She rubs the back of her neck and smiles at you.

Your heart’s still pounding from the surprise. You need to give some sort of response. Look normal. “Y-your relative, Charge?” Idiot, she just said it was her niece.

Charge keeps smiling though. “Yeah, I’m glad I was able to make it to the party this year.” The smile turns awkward as she shifts to look at the floor for a second before going back to you. “It can be hard to make time for family in this job, you know?”

“I– I guess.” Something about being around Charge makes you nervous, and sometimes the best thing for nerves is to take the offensive. “You kind of sound like an old woman, saying that.”

That gets a groan out of her, “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m 26.”

“That’s old.” You turn your head to look at her. For a moment you’d swear her eyes dart down to look at you mouth. That’s absurd though. Still, you tug your mask back down. 

“Whatever.” She frowns, and shakes her head. Clearing out thoughts? Who knows. Every time you try to read her mind you get crackles of static and nonsense. Yet another thing about Charge that unsettles you. “Anathema mentioned you were here so I just thought I’d check up on things.”

You tilt your head. “You’re chaperoning me.”

She winces, holds out her hands as if to say ‘you’ve got me.’ “It’s not like I don’t trust you Sidestep, I do. But–”

“It’s fine.” You say, cutting her off and turn back to the bulletin board. “Are all these pictures of your family?”

That gets a laugh from her. “No. There are other members of the Rangers believe or not.” She hesitates for a moment before adding, “I do probably have the most pictures though.

“Don’t you uh, have an office?”

“Oh, I’ve got pictures there too.”

You feel weird, standing here, in a way you can’t quite grasp. Like there’s some obvious secret in plain sight but you can’t even see it, touch it. Only the effects of its gravity. You try to focus on the board instead. “What’s this about?” You point at one picture, it’s just someone’s arm wrapped in a cast.

Charge rubs the back of her neck once she sees what you’re pointing at. “Oh that’s one me actually. First time I broke a bone.”

“You put up a picture of you breaking a bone?”

Charge doesn’t look at you. “It’s a good reminder.”

“Huh? Reminder of what?”

Charge walks past you to take a seat at the table under the window. “Okay, well, there was this tree–”

“Hey Ortega, found our guest, huh?” Anathema gives you a small wave, which you carefully return. Maybe you should have warned Charge Anathema was coming?

Nah.

“Taking a break already, Themmy?”

Anathema touches a hand to her chest as she moves for the coffee machine. “Me? Take a break? You wound me.” She leans on the counter as the machine warms up. “Did I interrupt anything?”

You shake your head. “Charge was just starting to tell me about the first time they broke a bone…?”

Anathema looks thoughtful, then grins. “Ah, that story. Let me save you some time then. Our brave child marshal climbed to the top of a tree taller then her house and then jumped to the ground just to prove she could do it.”

You glance at Charge, surprised? Concerned? Why? She’s clearly still alive. “Wow.”

Charge leans back in her seat. “Don’t tell me not to do something, Sidestep, that’s just daring me to prove it wrong.” She laughs. “Man, I was so dumb. I’m lucky it was just the one arm I broke, I certainly deserved worse for pulling a dumb stunt like that. I got grounded for months afterwards.”

“Grounded?”

“Uh, yeah.” Charge rubs the back of her neck again. “No friends over either. Just stuck indoors with…” She makes a face. “Whatever, doesn’t matter.”

You glance at Anathema. Did you make Charge uncomfortable? There’s that weird tension in the air again. You aren’t just imagining it, right? A… normal person could ease things by sharing their own, similar story, but– You’re not playing a role here, you don’t have anything like that prepared.

Anathema claps her hands together. “Don’t mind her, Charge loves telling this story. She’s just mad I stole the thunder this time.”

Charge shoots a look at Anathema. “Maybe I should fill Sidestep in on Princess Starshine.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Anathema groans. “Damn, I regret ever telling you that story, I’m never going to live it down.”

Charge smirks at you, “Someone pulled a fast one on their parents for Halloween one year.”

“Charge. Please.” You look between the two of them, only relaxing when they both burst out laughing.

You chew your lip while the two of them chatter with each other. Maybe you could… adapt something? When the conversation lulls you take the chance to cut in. “Uh, that reminds me of when…” You trail off, thinking. How do you frame this?

Charge perks up, and leans forwards in her seat. “Oh, a Sidestep story? This is rare.”

“Don’t tease her Ortega.”

“Okay so,” you begin, speaking slowly as you pick your words. “We always had to… be in bed by curfew, right?”

“Yeah?” Charge nods for you to continue. Good, so that sounds like a normal person thing. You’ve got this then.

“Well, I would always sneak out once no one was watching so I could hang out in the, uh, the library. Until–”

“You snuck out at night so you could read books?” Charge asks, incredulous.

“Your parents kept a library?” Anathema looks at you, curious.

You flinch. Just finish the story, you can do this. “Y-yeah, well. I liked the history books.”

“Knew you were a nerd.” Charge whispers.

It’s not much of a death glare when your face is covered. “Shut up.”

You take a breath. “Anyway, I got caught eventually, and…” You put a hand over your mouth, laughing nervously. “Man, I think at least half the beating was just because I did such a shitty job of lying about it.” You add a mocking tone to your voice, “Yes sir, I just got lost looking for the bathroom and tripped into this pile of books on Ancient Greece. Pfffft.” You pull your arms tight against you as you look at the floor. You laugh to yourself again. The air in the room has turned sour but you keep talking, helpless to stop yourself. “I had bruises for months after that. But like you said,” you gesture in Charge’s direction, “it was pretty dumb of me, I deserved way worse than what I got.” As you finish talking it feels like your words are dissolving into empty air.

When neither Charge or Anathema say anything you tense up. You did what you’re supposed to in this kind of interaction, right? Did you give yourself away? You have to make yourself look up, reach out to get a sense of what Anathema at least is thinking. “Um…”

Anathema and Charge exchange glances. Charge looks stricken. 

You dig your nails into your arm. “What? What’s wrong?”

Charge speaks first, hand half extended towards you. “Are you… okay?”

“I– I– I’m fine?” You voice breaks, panic rising up. “Why are you asking?”

“Sidestep…” Anathema’s voice is more careful than Charge. “Do you still… live with this person?”

“W-what? No it’s– it’s not what you think–” You just wanted to join in, not this: the way they’re looking at you… They’ll know, they’ll figure it out. They’ll figure it out and it’ll be over for you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You step backwards towards the hallway. “I– I should, I should go. Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

Charge stands up at of her chair, “Sidestep, wait–”

You don’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence. You take off down the hallway. Follow the path back out, don’t even acknowledge the receptionist. You need to go.

———

By the time you stop running you’ve managed to put several blocks between you and the Rangers, hiding a story up in the fire escape for a boutique shop. You slam a fist against the metal railing. Damn it! You ruined your chances with the Rangers. You’ll have to avoid them from now on. Maybe you should just skip town entirely? Being a vigilante already effectively cost you Chelsea, if you can’t even manage not to fuck that up maybe you should just give up altogether. The spotlight isn’t where something like you belongs anyway.

“Sidestep!” The name gets you attention and you look down into the alleyway, ready for a fight. If a drug dealer thinks they’re going to get back at you today, they’re going to regret it.

It’s not a drug dealer though; it’s Charge. Great. That’s just great. How…? Did she track you down herself? And so quickly? The thought makes your heart seize. “What do you want, Charge?”

“I just…” Charge shields her eyes against the sun as she looks up at you. “I just want to talk. Is that okay? Can we talk?”

Dig your hands into the metal of the railing, feeling the heat of the black paint against your hands, dulled by the skinsuit. “I said I was sorry.”

Charge gestures something, you’re not sure how to read it. “What are you sorry for?”

You take a breath to respond but no words come to mind. 

“Do you mind coming down so we don’t have to yell?”

You pull at the railing, run through the scenarios in your head. Swallowing down fear you let go of the railing and climb down the ladder. When Charge approaches you shy back against the wall of the building. “Well? Talk.”

Charge doesn’t respond right away. There’s a pained look in her eyes as she looks at you and you have to look away, focus on something else like the gum ground into the cement. “Are you okay?” She asks.

“Of course I am.”

“You’re not acting like it.”

“I’m fine.” You insist. “Sorry for ruining things. It was… unprofessional. It won’t happen again.”

Charge is still looking at you like she wants to touch you. “That’s not– fine.” She sighs. “I’m glad you’re okay. But… if you ever want to, you know… talk about it, Anathema and I would both be willing to listen.”

You let the silence hang there, silently wishing she’d leave. That your powers would work on her so you could make her leave. Or better, forget this ever happened.

“I…” Charge winces, like she’s just swallowed something painful. “I know what it’s like, okay?”

You stare at her, taken aback. She’s not anything like you, she’s human after all. What is she talking about? But in the moment, even in uniform, Charge doesn’t look anything like the smug superstar hamming it up for the news. Ortega looks… weirdly vulnerable.

“Don’t– don’t think of yourself that way, okay?” The tension in her body creates a few errant sparks from her emitters, running up her arms. If they hurt, she doesn’t show it. “You don’t… deserve to be hit, okay?” She’s obviously restraining herself, but she has her arm outstretched to you.

You stare at her hand. At her face. You feel… you don’t know what you feel. You don’t know what you feel a lot lately. You want to blame the hormones. They’ve been swinging your emotional state all over the place as you trial and error your way to a ‘correct’ dose. That’s… that’s all this is, nothing else. Just medication messing you up. In fact. This is great. Maybe now you won’t have to field any more questions about your past.

“Okay.” You say. You take Ortega’s hand and there’s a small jolt of static electricity, not enough to hurt. She grips your hand back and smiles at you.

[kitosauras]

"I didn't put him up to it!"

Hiddles/(f)reader

MY FIRST EVER!!! Ok so very unlike my normal work this is completed! Haza!!

You're studying to become a SFX artist and your professor calls in some particular people to be your final models.

Warnings: cussing and bulge talk.

Oh yeah above picture is what hes supposed to look like...not below lol. Scruffy hiddles!

“Last year almost through my lady!” Your friend Mikey ran up hugging you and your other friend Scott close. Mikey was studying to be an artist and Scott was doing architecture. Mikey was absolutely beautiful, blonde curvy in all the right places, huge blue eyes all accentuated with her flawless makeup. Scott was simply looking but he was a good guy.

“What about me, Mic?” Scott asked, “I've got another year after you two.”

“You'll never live without us my dude.” Mikey shook her head. We got to the SFX classroom and you hugged the both of them bye.

“See ya at lunch.” You chirp. Your class had been given measurements for prosthetics but had yet to see you're models and internally you were cursing Professor Del Toro, she was making shit unnecessarily hard. You stood at your work table arranging supplies when she walked in followed by twelve other men and women.

“Oh my god.” Gasp “No. Way.” “Is that?!” “NOOO.” You rolled your eyes at the other students. You saw some familiar faces and realized that these twelve people were movie and tv stars.

“Most of you wish to go into the movie business. You're final assignment is not only to impress me with your creations but to have an air of professionalism.” A lot of people had already failed. You rolled your eyes cleaning some dust off of the acrylic spikes you had one of the boys from Scott's shop class sand down.

“Uuhg come on.” “Please please please” “Whhhhhy??” It seemed your other female classmates wanted one man.

“(Y/N) this is Mr. Tom Hiddleston.” You smiled to the tall man.

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Hiddleston.” You said to the man, shaking his hand, “Is this why you switched mine and Mel's models?” You asked the professor. She innocently picked up the pale blue paint and sat it in your hand.

“Two hours Miss. (Y/L/N) I expect to be impressed.” she walked off and you stuck your tongue out at her. Hiddleston chuckled.

“Ok so first, I am going to need for you to take off your shirt. And I think to save some of the other girls’ projects we are going to go over to the air brush stall.”

“To protect the other girl's projects?” He asked following you to the back of the class.

“Taking into account how they were gasping and gawking I think they'll be a little too distracted with you shirtless to work.” you laughed. He smiled,

“And you won't be?” He asked, moving with you to the other side of the screen. You picked up the airbrush and loaded the paint you needed in it. You sighed deeply,

“It will be a struggle but I will force myself to manage.” You said sarcastically. He pulled off his shirt and you chewed the inside of your cheek thinking about the new delema. “How tall are you exactly?”

“Uhhhh i'm not exactly sure 6ish?”

“ How tall is Mr.Hiddleston?” you called across the classroom.” A chorus of 6’2” followed. You sighed. “You're not going to fit in the costume.” you told him honestly, grabbing a tape measure to double check, “I obviously still have the height measurements for my original model, but we shall make it work.” You motion for him to follow you back into the fabrics room where you found a sheet or curtain that could be turned into a sort of toga. The both of you went back to the paint screen and you made quick work of painting his torso, face, arms, and legs.

"Don't worry I'm letting you keep the facial hair." You teased.

“What exactly am I to be?” He asked you as he was drying and you were working on painting the toga a dark gray color. He stood there calm as can be in nothing but his underwear. You were undisturbed, seen one you'd seen them all. But upon your very brief double take you did notice the soft bulge was much larger than you had seen. And seemed to extend out longer.

“Hades. But the underworld is more of a dark, cold, icelandic place. Less fire and brimstone.” You stood and began fixing the acrylics to his head in a sort of crown. You painted and laid prosthetic around the base of the crown spikes to make them look like icicles protruding from his head.

“Very interesting.” He muttered looking into the mirror on the stall.

“Come here for a second.” You called pulling him slightly down to your level. His ice blue eyes connected with yours and you slowly lowered the hand which had a fire colored contact balanced on the fingertip.  “Nevermind you mumbled. His eyes were beautiful. He steadied you with a rather large hand on your bicep.

“Are you alright Miss (Y/L/N)” he asked.

"Yes sir, thank you." You gracefully stepped back from his hold. "Alright now let's fix this onto you." You picked up the fabric and began wrapping and pinning it.

"Don't suppose you would want to go out for coffee?" He asked you. You laughed up at him from you're kneeling position.

"Or tea?" You asked.

"Or tea." He corrected with a small smile tossed down to you.

"I figured Del Toro would have some tricks up her sleeve." You told him shaking your head. A few more strands of you're (y/h/c) hair tumbled out from you're loose ponytail. You must've looked a site. This morning you had snoozed through all of the seven alarms you set. Which wasn't really a big deal, with a friend as beautiful as Mikey running around there was no sense in going above or beyond trying. No matter what you wore or how well you're makeup was done you never stood out against her. God bless her she didn't even know the effect she had on men.

"Are you sure your alright love?" Mr. Hiddleston brought you back from space.

"Yes sir. Just lost in thought." You wiped your hands off on your ripped paint splattered jeans.

"Let me help you." Hiddleston wrapped his hands around your elbows and gently pulled you to your feet.

"Thank you." You smiled politely.

"Why don't you tell me about it."

"Huh?"

"What had you in a far off land?"

"Oh!" You laughed awkwardly, "I was thinking about my friend…. Shes, um, beautiful. Every guys dream." You muttered.

"Times up class!" Del Toro called, "Send your models forward."

"It was a pleasure meeting you." You told Mr. Hiddleston, shaking his hand once again.

"Likewise." He smiled in return. He walked to the front and lined up with all of the other transformed actors and actresses to be carefully reviewed. The bell rung and you quickly collected your things to move to the next class. Advanced Brit. Lit. You left Mr. Hiddleston's folded up clothes where he could easily find them. The next day in class you received a piece of paper stating your final grade in Del Toro's class. Scrawled at the bottom was a simple note;

'I didn't put him up to it! ;)'

[dramaticironyoflife]

Baby Bird (Fly Home) - Chapter 11: Who Was the First?

Summary:

While Patton, Virgil, and Logan are sorting through the emotional baggage, there is another person who realizes he plays a bigger part in the story than anyone thought.

Notes:

Hello, peeps! I have been working through a lot of emotional stuff. My fiance is in BMT right now and I got word that he has been injured for a few weeks. This can potentially set his graduation date back so I may not see him for another two months. It's just hard to be in a situation where I can't be with him. Thank you for understanding!

- Chapter Text -

The flashy red car that zipped around afternoon traffic was one that many celebrities recognized, and all hoped would stop in front of their doors whenever any award ceremony was around the corner. It was the possession of famed fashion-king Roman Prince. The man was a legend in the acting industry. He had held hundreds of roles on the screen and created works of mastery off screen. His costumes had left even the most experience actors speechless and he had often been contacted outside of filming by eager actors who wished to look their best on the red carpet.

Right now, the man grunted as his driver took him around a corner at an alarming rate, causing his large build to slide against the leather seat and bump into the window. He scowled at the mark the jerk had made on his sketch pad in his hands. He supposed that was on him, however, he knew better than to try drawing at this time. He’d lost several amazing ideas to a similar fate, but he couldn’t help it! The idea was fresh in his mind and he just couldn’t let it slip away! He looked back down at the sketch. It was a beautifully intracity drawing. The outfit was suited for someone of royal standing. It had a simple black top with long elegant black slacks to match. The shoulders were cut out and the long sleeves were held on by silver bands around the arm. A long, purple cloak swept back, complimenting the spider-web like embroidery that decorated the front. The final touch was the deep purple leather belt which was clasped with a silver clasp. He wanted to put a coat of arms on it, but he was clueless as to what that coat of arms would look like. He sighed and tucked the pencil behind his ear. Cupping his chin in one hand, he turned a lazy gaze out the window and daydreamed the rest of the ride home. The large white house that the red car stopped in front of was a sight to behold. In one word, it was grand. The front rose up, proud and unapologetically bright white. The roof was rimmed with gold paint and the tall windows glinted in the evening sun. The two grand doors were fiercely red and there were brass knockers on both doors. Shiny gold handles waited patiently to be tugged on to reveal the stunning insides of the mansion. Roman indulged them and slipped inside with a sigh. He kicked his shoes off by the front door and climbed the tall staircase to the second floor. The hallways were lined with doors, each one wood and polished so brightly that he could see his reflection. He smiled at himself as he passed and ran slender fingers through his hair. His hands were narrow, but his shoulders were broad. He had a narrow waist and long thin legs. He had an elegant and graceful air about him. He finally reached his room and pushed the door open with another heavy sigh. He freed his feet from the restriction of his socks and let his toes wriggle in the thick fluffy circular rug that sat in the middle of his room. A large four-poster bed took up the center of the far wall, covered in silver bedding with gold beading dotted across it. A desk sat to the right of the bed, old fashioned in style but coated in red paint. The wall around the desk was covered in sketches, pictures, and scribbled notes. Pieces of fabric were pinned to the different drawings and certain words were underlined for emphasis. The whole room was lit by three tall windows that stood opposite to the door and looked out over the large backyard. Roman wandered over and stared out onto the grounds. The green grass was pleasantly interrupted by gardens and tall trees. A tree swing shifted as the wind gave it a playful nudge. Roses, poppies, tulips, lilies, and dragon snaps bobbed in the breeze, wishing a cheerful hello to all who passed. It looked like something out of a storybook and that was just how Roman had intended it to be. He smiled and unbuttoned the stiff white suite jacket he was wearing. Unceremoniously, he tossed it aside and then let his belt slip the ground. Soon, he was wandering over to his massive walk in closet with his shirt hanging open, the red material brushed softly behind him as he paced with determination. He paused only long enough to snatch a pair of fuzzy red socks before he made his way over to his bed. With a grunt of contentment, he flopped onto the silky material and let himself sink into the mattress. With some squirming and grumbling, he managed to slip the socks on with minimal movement. He dug his phone out next and began to scroll through his notifications. Sighing in boredom, he opened his news app to see if he had once more made the front page. When he discovered that he had not, a squeak of surprise escaped him. Instead of seeing the beautifully gorgeous and altogether stunning floor-length evening dress that had been his latest and greatest creation, he saw the faces of two boys staring back at him. They had obviously been caught off-guard when the picture was taken. One was dressed in dark emo attire and had a look of angry surprise on his face. His hand was raised in an attempt to block the lens of the camera while his other hand was pushing his companion behind him. The other boy was small, with narrow features but extremely large eyes. The brown orbs were enhanced by the thick glasses that adorned his face. He reminded Roman first and foremost of a baby bird and then of something much worse. He rose sharply and, never taking his eyes off his device, marched over to his desk. He began to rummage through the drawers impatiently. He tossed bits of paper and fabric out as he went. After the first and second drawer proved disappointments, he pulled the third drawer out and dumped the contents out on the floor. He dropped to his knees and began to root through the items before he pounced upon one. He sat back on his heels and held the small square up. The faces of two children peered at him from the photograph. The first was obviously him. With the stunning good looks and the signature smirk, it couldn’t have been anyone else! The other was a girl. She had long brown hair and was hanging off her brother. Her tongue was stuck out in a comical display and her eyes were crossed. Her extremely large brown eyes that looked too big for the rest of her narrow features. Roman looked between the photograph and the picture on the phone. There was no doubt about it, the boy was the splitting image of his little sister.

Taglist:

@bunny222

[joygaytrash]

Leap of Faith(Spiderverse AU)

Word Count: 1542

Notes: Holy hell, I pumped out two pieces of writing in two days, go me. Anyways, another thing I did for @ask-spiderverse-virgil and @sugarglider9603 Spiderverse AU because I would actually die for it. Angst is coming soon, trust me :)

If you told Emile Picani that he would get bit by a radioactive spider and be part of a spider themed superhero group, he would just laughed and say "I wish". If you told Emile Picani that he was going to jump from one of the tallest buildings in the city in order to prove himself to no one but himself, he would just change the topic of conversation.

Now here he was, standing on the roof of the third tallest buildings in New York City,  in costume and thinking of what led him to being on top that building. First, it was the recent argument with his father about Emile's recent changes to the paper, none of which he regrets. Second was the verbal fight he had with Logan earlier that same day and he could remember every word of it.

"What makes you think I'm not ready for this, Logan? I can handle the responsibly and the pressure of it," Emile said, glaring at Logan.

"You want to know what makes me think you aren't ready for this? You let your emotions get in the way," Logan explained. Emile only rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "So you're saying I'm too emotional then, huh? Well, I'm sorry for experiencing emotions like an actual human being," Emile stated, causing Logan to face his direction with a look in his eyes that one could not explain.

"I do experience emotions, Emile. For example, I apologize for having to do this," Logan commented. Emile was about to ask what the hell Logan meant until the question was answered when he was pinned against his bedroom wall by webbing. He struggled to break free, glaring at the older teen once more with daggers in his eyes. "What are you doing, Logan?! Let me go!" Emile shouted, feeling tears form in his eyes.

"I would love to but this is for your well being, Emile. I will come back and free you once I'm done doing my patrol shift," Logan replied before covering Emile's mouth with more webbing. Emile screamed behind the webbing, his protests muffled by the sticky string as the tears trickled down his cheeks. Logan said nothing after that as he left Emile's room through his window and down the fire escape, leaving Emile stuck against the wall and his emotions out of control.

Emile took a deep breath, the same energy that caused him to somehow bust out of the webbing hours prior filling his veins once more. The third and final thing that led Emile to be on top of the building was his mother, the only family member in his live that actually gave a damn or two about him.

"He just doesn't understand that Rainbow Weaver isn't a bad guy, Mom! I mean, I get that it's his job to write reports but he's lying to the people of this city!" Emile ranted, pacing the living room. His mother sighed, rising from her spot on the couch and stopped her son mid-paced.

"Em, you know why your father does that?" She asked, her voice soft. Emile shook his head, tapping his foot on the ground at a quick pace. "He says those things because he's too closed minded, unlike you and I, Em. He doesn't see Rainbow Weaver and his kids how you and I see him. Your dad sees them as a group of troublemakers," His mother explained.

"But they're not and I don't see why he gets mad when I change his reports. I'm doing what's right,"

"I know that, Em and you know what? That makes you, well, you. You've always had this spark in you that steered you in the right direction, making you better than your father,"

Emile smiled slightly, giving his mother a hug. "Thanks Mom, I needed to hear that," He said as his mother hugged them back.

"Anytime, hun. I'll always be here to talk if you need it, okay?" She suggested.

"Okay,"

"You waiting for an audience, Picani?" Joan's voiced asked through an earpiece.

"Maybe," Emile responded, pulling his mask over his face. Joan was one of the many minor(good) reasons Emile was up there. They were the one who designed Emile's suit and taught him the tricks of the web shooters and the other various gadgets in less than an hour.

Emile walked down the street at a quick pace with his hood over his head, concealing his identity from no one in particular. It didn't take him long to get where he needed. Emile hopped the fence of Thomas' townhouse and walked through the backyard to the shed. He reached over the open the door but it opened by itself, revealing the elevator, which Emile wasted no time stepping into. The door of the shed closed and the elevator went down before the door opened once more when the elevator got to the secret basement.

"Took you long enough, kid," A voice commented before a wheely chair came into view. In that chair sat one of Thomas' friends, Joan, with a cup of coffee in hand. "Then again, you took the least amount of time accepting this responsibly than the others," Joan added, standing up.

"Well, what are we waiting for then? We got a city that needs one more hero," Emile responded, his usual big smile on his face. A small smile became visible on Joan's face as the two went off to design Emile's costume.

Emile hopped up onto the ledge of the building, looking down at the city below. "Whoa," He mumbled, amazed by the colorful lights that flooded the city.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Joan asked, looking up at the building Emile was on from a window at a coffee shop across the street. Emile let out a 'mhm', his eyes scanning the crowd that had gathered. People had their phones out, either recording or taking pictures. A news van pulled up and the news lady for the 8 o'clock news came out, followed by a cameraman.

"You ready, kid?" Joan questioned, stepping out of the coffee shop and joining the crowd.

"Ready as I can be," Emile answered.

Time seemed to go slow after Emile took one more deep breath. It seemed to go even slower not even a second after Emile did a dive off the building. He watched the bright colored lights fly past him as Emile had a small struggle gaining some sort of balance.

While Emile fell from the building, he swore he could hear Thomas' voice in his head.

"How do I know when I'm ready for this responsibly, Thomas?" Emile asked as Thomas walked into the living room with two cups of tea.

"You don't. It's a leap of faith," Thomas replied, handing Emile one of the cups of tea. Emile takes it before taking a drink and setting it on the coffee table. "What do you mean 'It's a leap of faith'? Like an actual leap or an emotional leap?" Emile asked again.

"Either, really. I took both an actual leap and an emotional one. Virgil took an emotional one and so did Patton. Both Logan and Roman took actual leaps. It really depends on the person, you know?" Thomas explained before taking a drink of his tea.

"Yeah," Emile said, trying to figure out what the hell Thomas actually meant.

Emile saw the ground edge closer before he turned around and shot web from both hands, the ends of it flying to the top of the building. "Come on, come on," Emile mumbled to himself, trying not to sound scared. The ends of the webbing attached themselves to the edge of the building and Emile pulled himself up.

"Whooa!" Emile exclaimed, swinging himself off the building. He swung towards a different building, doing a backflip off the roof before jumping onto the side. He shot another string of web at a different building, running along side the building, laughing as if he had no care in the world.

He shot one last string of web and swung himself onto one more building before running across the roof and jumping from that roof to the roof across the street. Emile stopped himself on the edge of the roof, panting hard. He took his mask off and found himself laughing once again, leaning on the edge.

"What's so funny?" Joan questioned, the confusion clearly obvious in their voice.

"Sweet Neptune that was the greatest thing I've ever done! The feeling of the wind in my hair, the adrenaline pumping through my veins! I feel like I can do anything now!" Emile exclaimed. He could hear Joan laugh slightly on the other end of the earpiece.

"Slow down, kid. You haven't even gotten into a fight yet," Joan explained.

"True," Emile said, pushing himself away from the edge, "Hey, listen, I'm going to head back to Thomas' place because they're all probably back from patrol by now," Emile added, pulling his mask back over his face and walked back over to the edge of the building.

"Deal. Meet you there," Joan responded. Emile didn't say anything after that, all he did was backflip off the building and swing himself back to Thomas' townhouse.

[cutesuki-bakugouinactive]

YES IM SO GLAD REQUESTS ARE OPEN! since Halloween is coming up, can I have an imagine where it’s halloween and Bakugo and his class throw a fancy dress party in the dorms. And his s/o dresses up in his hero costume and he gets all excited and cocky? A bit of nsfw but not the full way :”)

Thank you for the request!

I hope it’s okay! 

Bakugou glanced around as he sat on the couch inhis dorm building common area, irritated by the flashing lights and loud,stupid music. The rest of his classmates were allenjoying the Halloween party in a more excited manner. Dancing, playing games,traveling through the makeshift haunted house attraction and stuffing theirfaces with food. This being their last year at UA, they had decided to go allout on this party, though Bakugou hadn’t wanted any part of it. He had stillbeen dragged in, of course, and had helped with some things like cooking,decorating and picking some of the music. Though whatever was playing right nowwas pure shit, and he found himself wanting to go up to his room to hide.

He had one foot placed firmly on the decoratedcoffee table, slumped into the couch with his hands firmly in his pockets. Hisoutfit was simple, because he had waited until last minute to even think aboutone. It consisted of just him in an all black outfit, a black cloak with ahood, and a truly horrifying skull mask. There was a plastic scythe as well,which was propped up against the couch, one that his girlfriend had gotten forhim because it had slipped his mind.

In fact, that’s who was making him so grumpy.His lover had yet to come down from her dorm room, and he was growing impatientwaiting on her. She had kept her outfit from him a secret, hyping it up andstretching his curiosity to its limit. Everyone else was down here acting likeidiots, so why was she taking so damn long? With a sigh, he stood, snatchinghis mask and scythe off the couch before he headed towards the elevators.

“Hey, Bakugou, where are you going, man?”Kirishima called after him, dressed in some tacky, old style rockers clothes.Bakugou only glanced back at him, gesturing towards the elevator with hisscythe. “Upstairs. She’s taking way too long, I’m going to check on her.”

“Oh okay! Kirishima chuckled, tossing someeyeball cake balls into his mouth as he walked away. “You’re going to like hercostume, man!” Bakugou didn’t bother responding, though he did feel a twinge ofannoyance. She told Kirishima, but not me? What the fuck is up with that!Who else knows and they’ve been keeping it from me! Eventually, theelevator opened up, and by the time he reached the third floor, his annoyancewas near exploding.

Though, as he exited the elevator and turned thecorner, Bakugou paused as he saw a figure scurry away. It vanished at thecorner at the end of the hallway in front of him, though it’s presence isn’t whatmade him pause. Am I fucking seeing things? That looked like… Like my herocostume. What the fuck? He had clearly seen the distinctive shape of theback of the mask, and the large grenade form of his gauntlets. Suddenly feelinglike he was the subject some some type of prank, he took off after the figure.“Hey! Who’s down there!” As he rounded the corner, he had to skid to a stop ashe was suddenly confronted with… himself?

Gauntlet pointed right at his face, he scrunchedup his nose in confusion as streams of orange and red paper erupted from thehole, tickling his skin. It didn’t fall to the ground, connectedsomehow inside of the hole, though his bewildered gaze slowly moved to the faceof the perpetrator. Smiling at him, the fair face of his lover was clearlyrecognizable behind the black mask that was a near perfect replica of his own.

“Boom. You’re dead.”

Bakugou scoffed, smacking her hand away from hisface. “What the fuck is all this?!” Smile only growing, she held out her armsaway from her body. “It’s my Halloween costume! I’m you!” She stuck a pin backinto the makeshift metal piece of the gauntlet, twisting and pulling the paperexplosion back into the hole. Bakugou watched with annoyed amazement, settinghis scythe down to lean against the wall. “Out of all fucking things, youdecide to be me? How long did it take you to make this?” He took a few stepscloser, reaching around her head to feel the headband, before his hands moveddown to the replica of the metal piece he wore on his shoulders.

“Of course I picked you, you’re my favoriteperson!” Her smile stayed plastered to her face, cheeks flushing pink as shelet him observe the outfit freely. “I started two months ago. It’s been so hardto hide it from you. Most of it is cardboard, and I stitched a lot of theclothes myself. These were the hardest to make, with that little explosionaction.” She held up her arm, allowing him to see the gauntlet closer. As thesurprise began to pass, Bakugou’s ego all but exploded, a wide smirk crossinghis lips.

“Damn right you would pick me! My outfit isbadass!” He took her hand, making her spin a bit so he could see her. “I mean,it’s obvious you made some changes to make it more feminine so it would fityou. Did you do the part under the gauntlets, too?” His lover nodded as shefaced him again, carefully removing the props to expose the arm bands. Theentire time she worked to remove them, his eyes roamed her body, feeling a heatrise in his chest from the way the top held her breasts and slimmed her figure.Instead of really baggy pants, hers were tight faux leather, a pair that he hadbought for her in the past and that he loved to see her wear. Although he wasgreatly enjoy seeing her in this, he just as quickly wanted to rip it off ofher.

After placing them on the floor, she grinned upat him, quite proud of herself as she placed her hands on her hips. “I dideverything! Except, like, your hair. I just kept mine.” She gasped as hesuddenly scooped her up, holding her up against the wall, his hips and bodypressing into hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around hiswaist, held up by his body and his hands caressing her ass.

“Good,” Bakugou spoke quietly, his voice lowwith arousal. “I like it this way. It’s fucking sexy.” Although her cheeks wereflushed bright red, she gave a sly smile, pulling him in closer so that theirlips brushed as she spoke. “Only you would be turned on by someone dressed asyou. You narcissistic ass.”  

“You’re going to regret that after the party.”

“After? Why after?”

“Because I want to parade you around a littlefirst. Show you and your hard work off. It has to be after, because once Istart, I won’t want to stop.”

[pastelpunkpizzapower]

ONE SHOT FANFIC~ Yay my first FS fanfic!

belated!Day Four + Five

(Halloween Party + Grimdark AU/Scenario/Whatever)

Plot: (takes place before the show, AU) Gary misses celebrating holidays, so he decides to round up the SAMES for a haunting good time! what could go wrong? ^^;

HUE noticed his prisoner, Gary, was hastily drawing what appeared to be paper masks, then crudely poking where they eyeholes should be with his thumb and finally, he taped each of them onto the SAME’s faces.

“Had you not added holes to those masks, I could have sworn you where blinding the SAMES so you could escape.” snarked the monotone AI.

“What makes you think that?!” spat out Gary, his arms folded and sounding seriously offended.

“You did it before.”

Not wanting to admit, the childlike “Captain” just blew a raspberry at him and labeled HUE a killjoy.

Gary swiped the blanket off his bed and wrapped it around himself like a cloak and put a makeshift “wizard/witch” hat on his head~ he looked at the bathroom mirror with a big goofy smile on his face before marching forward to the other SAMES.

“Alright, this holiday here we’re celebrating is called Halloween, it’s where earthling-peoples like yours truly dress up in costumes, usually characters that scare the snot out of someone, and watch scary movies and eat treats-” it wouldn’t be long before a certain other member of this cast would intervene.

“Heyhey~ Garebear, I want in!”

“Beat it, you infernal one-eyed needle in my pin-cushion, this party is only for non-stupid people!” Gary growled at KVN; for a device that was meant to keep an inmate’s sanity in check, they did a poor job.

“Pleaaaaaaaaaase?” he asked, dragging out the “ea” as much as he could and with a dramatic deep breath, Gary lightly snapped out: “Fine!”.

“Yay! yay! yay!’ KVN cheered as he clapped his metal hands to the tune of his voice, before adding “Do I get a costume too!?”

“Yeah....” Gary nodded, before quickly taking some paper, quickly coloring it red, rolling two of them up in two little cones, bending the tips and taping them onto KVN’s head, then cut the third one up to resemble a point-ended tail  “It suits, too.”

“I’m a bull, everyone!” KVN cheerfully proclaimed, headbutting one of the SAMES and totally not realizing the obvious costume choice.

“Yeah, you’re a load of bull that’s for sure.” Gary facepalmed, then followed: “So we’re gonna watch a scary movie tonight, I’d carve a pumpkin but I’m STUCK ON THIS MISERABLE RAT’S NEST- *ahem* I mean I don’t think there are pumpkins in space, so I’ll have to figure that last part out.”

One SAME raised their hand, asking: “Do the movies where the human gets into a love triangle with the vampire and the werewolf as a scary movie?”

“Only for how it nearly ruined all three for me.” groaned Gary, rolling his eyes.

……

"Watch out, he’s right behind you!” Gary cried out as he and the SAMES huddled together, intimidated by the spooky flick they where viewing from a tiny but advanced television (Gary found floating among debris one day during his community service), while also trying to ignore KVN’s loud munching (shoving food in his processor slot).

“I want a refill, gimme a refiiil” KVN told Gary in sing-song and poking him only for the reluctant roommate to respond by shushing him; the floating troublemaker didn’t get the memo, hence why he waved his arm in Gary’s face, leading to Gary to whip him away.

“Maybe I’ll get his attention by turning off the movie.” he thought, problem his he had no idea how to turn the movie off, so he just flew over and smacked it onto the floor, yelling: “I NEED A REFILL NOW!” not that Gary would have cared as he was too busy screaming in panic as the SAMES lamented over not knowing how the movie ended; Gary hastily got up from his seat and looked at the broken TV, which aside from the satellites he watched programs on during his breaks, was his only window to Earth he had until his sentence was up. the blond’s eyes produced angry tears, for he had enough of KVN....then an idea came to him, one that would replace the tears with, strangely enough, a smile.

“Hey guys, I figured out how we can make jack-o-lanterns, follow me.”

The SAMES followed as Gary drug KVN to the kitchen, prompting the curious android to ask: “What’s goin’ on, Gary-Berry?” KVN innocently asked; “You don’t need to know squat, you floating sack of wet turds.” Gary growled back, his smile appearing less cheerful and more sinister when he taped KVN’s arms to the the table, then he pulled a kitchen knife from the drawers and snuck up behind the unsuspecting robot.

“Step one, you gotta remove the innards.”

“Huh?”

And with that, Gary struck a knife into KVN and sliced his way into removing his top, all with a blood-curdling scream from the yellow menace and nothing but half-confusion, half-amusement from the SAMES who where also getting sick of KVN’s nonsense; Gary then grabbed his bare hands inside of his long-time foe and ripped all his gears and what-not out piece-by-piece and as violently as possible with oil leaking all over the place; even though KVN didn’t feel pain, he knew the end was nigh and there was nothing he could do about it; it was almost as if it did hurt.

“Gary, stop this at once or your sentence will be extended to a week for property damage.” HUE announced, but it was drowned out by KVN’s dying wails.

Gary snapped: “SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU UNFEELING BUREAUCRAT, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW IT’S LIKE TO BE TRAPPED IN A SHIP ALL ALONE FOR ALMOST HALF A DECADE, YOU’LL NEVER KNOW WHAT’S LIKE BECAUSE NO ONE CARES ABOUT ME.”

That mini-rant hit HUE like a ton of bricks; even though he could be a handful, he always saw Gary as a friend, perhaps like his own child. he tried to say something, but he was simply left speechless.  “I....have nothing.” and the AI temporarily shushed for a good long time, rethinking what he was told.

Gary finished up, revealing his brutal masterpiece, and he gleefully cheered “Ta-da!”, returning to his bubbly self, the SAMES just stood there and wondered when, or if, KVN was gonna turn back on; two of them stepped forward and poked at him; another came over just to clean up all the oil.

“That felt good!” Gary chirped, going to the kitchen and grabbing a drink; after three years of living in a bleak, conforming vessel with no celebration or any fun whatsoever, it felt a tint of catharsis in the air, for the little yellow parasite who haunted him the whole time was finally slain.