#or why her classmates were making uncomfortable comments at far too young an age

[boyslugs]

tumblr stop recommending me terfs challenge! yes i am a feminist, but i am also hugely trans and believe intersectionality is the only way forward. yes i believe in deconstructing gender and gender roles but i also know how important gender is to people's sense of self, and that it's impossible to try to categorize gender more specifically than "a [gender] is defined as someone who identifies as a [gender]" without excluding someone, just like when in metaphysics my professor asked "define what a chair is" and then pulled out so many examples of "okay, by your definition a stool isnt a type of chair" and "what about bean bag chairs" or "that could be a table, which implies that all tables are chairs"

terfs and swerfs could be fighting for and with everyone against the oppressive systems we live under but they're so set in their ways that they refuse to see how the patriarchy harms men too, or how even if the porn industry has a lot of problems, many people of all genders enjoy sex work and are fulfilled by choosing it as a career path, or how a lot of the things trans people are fighting for would result in a better world for everyone- but it's easier to just say "rights for me but all men are evil oppressors and trans people are either traumatised or are evil and anyone doing sw is coerced or damaging our fight"

i could go on about this for way longer but i already have a bad feeling this might end up spreading further than i'd like so TO REITERATE:

TERFS AND SWERFS FUCK OFF. THERE IS NO LIBERATION FOR ONE UNLESS WE UPLIFT EVERYONE. INTERSECTIONALITY IS KEY. ok bye

[panda-noosh]

   draco doesn’t remember how or why he fell in love with you.

   it wasn’t supposed to happen. not at all. his entire life, he has been prepared for an arranged marriage, something examined by his father, picked apart and carefully chosen to ensure the malfoy line is carried on only by the best, most pure wizards the world has ever seen. from a young age, draco was prepared to put up with whoever his parents decided was good enough for him.

    but he grew up.

   he grew up, and he went to school, and life became his own. without his parents swarming his every move, he was free to do whatever he wanted, like whoever he wanted, and that was very dangerous ground for a boy as curious as him. never wanting to disappoint his parents, but wanting that freedom, too - it was never going to work in his favour. 

    you came to hogwarts during his third year, a third year yourself having just transferred from another wizarding school in britain. a smaller wizarding school, and draco remembers walking through the halls, listening to people snicker about how far behind you were, how little you knew. he didn’t even know who you were at that time, as he was yet to have any classes with you, but he was prepared to experience the same amusement as the rest of his classmates upon initial meeting.

    “snape had a field day with them,” said pansy, over a bowl of porridge at breakfast one day. “absolutely shocking how little they taught them at that old school they’ve come from.”

   draco snickered. “what did snape do?”

   “he was about to kick them out,” replied blaise. “honestly, draco, just wait till you see them. it’s hilarious.”

    and so, draco prepared himself the entire day for the moment he would finally get to witness the reason behind his friends amusement for himself. classes ticked by in a blur, him scribbling down notes carelessly, knowing full well he would have to copy off his friends later on; for today, he didn’t care. he just wanted to get to astrology, the one class he knew he had with you.

   when the bell rang for final class, draco all-but sprinted to the astrology tower. throwing open the door, his grin widened, his excitement spilling over, a snide remark already forming on his smirking lips-

   a snide remark that died the instant he saw you seated upon one of the pillows strewn across the floor.

    because you are everything he didn’t expect. you are nothing like the image he had conjured in his head, the image of stupidity, a dopey face and a clueless gait, someone he could make fun of without feeling terribly sorry about it.

    but you’re not that at all. you’re small, and not in the sense that you’re particularly short. you’re short in the sense that overwhelms draco with the sudden need to protect you from everything and everyone. you’re small in the sense that you clearly understand you have been the butt of the joke since you arrived at hogwarts, and the comments aren’t exactly helping you get comfortable.

    his falter didn’t last long. people started bustling into the classroom, forcing him to his seat even as his eyes never left you. you hadn’t even looked up, too busy staring at the hands in your lap, the hands that hadn’t stopped twisting and twitching the entire time. you wore a set of rings - one on each finger - and usually this fashion choice would have been a bit over the top in draco’s opinion, but the rings glistened on your fingers, complimented each and every one, even as you pulled them off and replaced them in that nervous way he found himself so entranced with. 

   you were seated on a pillow directly in front of the window, and even though the classroom was fairly dark - easier for trelawney to teach the planets in the dark - there was a soft glow spread across your cheeks, illuminating your cheekbones, making your eyes glisten every time you looked up. it left his heart thumping, a feeling most uncomfortable when he had never felt it before.

    but from that day on, his heart thumped every time he saw you. his hands got clammy. his throat became dry, and he often found himself shamelessly leaning against a locker, or saying something witty in the hopes you would like his voice, stop and talk to him, compliment him on his oh-so original humour.

    his friends started to catch on, but by the second week, draco was past the point of caring. no longer did he try to hide his affection for you, an affection that didn’t even make sense, because you had never even given him the time of day. you walked past him with your head ducked down. you didn’t speak to him in class. you got on with your life all on your own, and honestly, that was part of the reason draco was so enamoured by you.

   one of the many, many reasons.

    after two weeks, his resolve was starting to disappear. he couldn’t just ignore you. he couldn’t keep himself contained for much longer, a desire he had never felt before springing to the forefront of his very being. he’s always been so content with his friend group, but he wanted to speak to you, wanted to hear your voice just the once.

    and so he found you in the library on that fateful tuesday afternoon. he had no classes, astrology having been cancelled as trelawney claimed the spirits were telling her it was a bad day to come to work. draco usually took his free periods as a chance to go out and practise some quidditch moves, but this day he needed to make an exception. the team could make do without a seeker for a little while.

    he pushed into the library, offering the librarian a keen smile and a nod; she merely scowled, but she does that to everyone, so draco didn’t think too much into it. his brain was elsewhere, anyway.

    he flew through the library, ducking his head into the shelves in search of you. in minutes he found you, curled up in an arm chair by the fire, a thick leather bound book on your lap. as per usual, you didn’t even look up when draco approached, eyes glued to the novel, finger tracing the words in an attempt to stop the cramped, tiny sentences from getting jumbled up.

    he cleared his throat. your head flinched up.

    you stared at him a moment, thumb placed upon your bottom lip. it was endearing in the worst way, making something stir in draco’s stomach.

    he cleared his throat again and said, “hello,” because he’s always been fairly certain that was the best way to start a conversation.

    you blinked. “hello.”

   “draco malfoy.”

   you nodded. “i know.”

   his heart thundered. he was certain you could hear it, could probably see the sweat dotting his brow, too. “oh. great.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “what’s your name?”

   “y/n l/n,” you replied. “is everything okay? you look a little ill, if you don’t mind me saying.”

    he didn’t. he didn’t mind at all. 

    “everything’s fine,” he said, before gesturing to the empty seat to your left. “do you mind if i sit?”

    “be my guest.”

   he sat down. “you don’t mind the company?”

    “i like meeting new people.” you looked down, biting your lower lip. draco was overcome with the sudden desire to reach over and grab your hand. “i haven’t got many friends around here, you know. it’s nice to finally speak to someone.”

    draco’s chest tightened. he remembered the comments, the snickers, his initial plans to make fun of you just like everyone else had been doing. 

   but then he remembered your face in trelawney’s classroom, the faux light dancing across your cheekbones, that twinkling laugh you let out when trelawney got one of her predictions wrong and was gravely embarrassed about it. 

   “but that’s not important,” you piped up when draco failed to pull himself together in time to respond. “how have you been finding everything? i know you’re on the quidditch team - what’s that like?”

    and so the conversation bloomed, draco loosening up with every passing moment, every phrase where he could fit in a question. he learned more and more about you, tiny facts that would usually hold no weight whatsoever, but facts he suddenly cherished - your favourite colour, where you’re from, the names of your parents, a pair of muggles who raised you to believe you were normal until your powers started to show.

    at some point, you said, “i know the malfoys aren’t big fans of wizards who aren’t pure bloods.”

    draco’s face warmed. “yeah, well...”

   “are you going to get in trouble for talking to me?”

   “probably.” he leaned back, crossing his leg across his own knee. “i don’t care, though. they’re not here right now, are they?”

    so no, draco does not know the exact moment he fell in love with you. he doesn’t know how, or why, or when, but he knows it happened. at some point during this strange, spontaneous relationship, he fell in love with you, and has been unable to shake himself out of it.

   it might be because you’re beautiful. it might go deeper than that. it might be because he’s never felt so comfortable with anyone in his entire life. it might be because, for the first time ever, he doesn’t care what his parents think. for the first time ever, he is more than willing to make his own decisions, to go against everything he has ever been told just to sit with you for one more day, one more minute, one more second. 

   and it’s not like these feelings crashed upon him all at once. it was gradual, an almost painful experience, an extraction of his sourness, replaced by this. . . fondness? this love. this love for a person so different to him, a person so unexpected, a person that shouldn’t fit so well into his life, but does so.    

[obeymeaskme]

Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: For those who don't know, I have pinned to my profile the list incase you want to read it from the beginning!

Chapter Two: Reaching the bare minimum (1/2)

Word Count: 1,495

Rating: 18+

Another morning had passed as a week had gone by. It was almost a familiar experience to the girls as the human world school. They woke up, ate, and went to RAD which was within walking distance. The small list of struggles was relatively short, as they didn't need to worry about other demons since they each had their own guards. Bella had been the first to ease into her temporary life in Hell. Noelle on the other hand, had struggled more so. Though Noelle seemed to be a strong headed woman at the start, and willing to protect her friend, her behavior was soon to be exposed as a bit... clumsy, and childish.

Noelle had painted targets on her back, even after the warnings from Lucifer about not angering her classmates. One of which, on occasion, was Leviathan. Needless to say the week had dragged on for her. But the promise of a relaxing weekend had given her a spark of hope. She needed the extra study time, so she found herself in the library shortly after catching Satan at the doors. Part of her could feel the constant rage behind Satan's eyes, yet part of her felt almost connected with him. He was careful, and knowledgeable, giving her a hand at finding the correlating books she needed for her classes. Soon enough they were both sitting in a quiet study session, even then something scratched at the back of Satan's mind, he found himself reaching out to Noelle with a very important question.

“I recognize that you've only been at the school for a week, but you don't seem to be settling in very well...”

A verbal gulp could be heard as she looked up at him, shrugging.

“It's fine Satan. I didn't really come here looking for friends. I don't really remember wanting to come here at all to be honest... no offense.”

Noelle felt the smallest bit of comfort that he had taken notice of her struggle, but still felt like she was walking on a minefield. She had seen him get out of control over something as small as losing a bookmark, signifying his lost spot in a mystery novel. Satan widened his eyes in surprise, prodding her further.

“Really? Why just at the beginning of the week you were pestering Levi with questions about the different types of demons, and pointing out every little detail you sought amusing in our art class...”

So he'd noticed her behaviors, which came with no surprise as he was extremely analytical, and observant. Noelle had shaken her head, eyes closed, and remembering how quickly Levi had shut her down, exclaiming that he wasn't a tour guide. A ghostly grimace adorned her face as she locked eyes with Satan.

“Yeah... I was excited. Maybe a bit... too excited. I thought it was kind of cool. It's the kind of scenario a big nerd like me would only dream of being in. But now that I'm actually here, It feels no different from when I was living in the human world...” She gave a pause, Satan taking the opportunity to interrupt her thoughts.

“So you struggled in school too then?”

She nodded at him, then explained her lack of popularity in the human world. Especially with school. She explained that though she knew her grades were important, she couldn't shake the feeling of constant abandonment, and neglect from those closest to her. The desire for parental attention wormed its way into her schooling habits. She only tried hard where receiving praise was easy, and could only seem to take interest in certain classes. She had admitted her regret of not giving it her all. Satan had stayed silent, his hands folded on the table, fully engrossed in her story. She shifted uncomfortably when it finally sank in that he had been staring at her so intensely.

“S-sorry. I didn't mean to complain so much, it's just... Ya' know.”

Satan shook his head, sitting straight up from his hunched over position, and disagreed with her.

“No, I don't know. Even with all the teasing from the other demons, and the lectures I'm sure Lucifer has given you on some of your... more peculiar behaviors, you seem to have something on your mind that lets you still push on past it all. What is it?”

Noelle gave a small amused snort, and replied-

“Bella. She seems so happy down here, ironically enough, and I'd do anything to keep it that way. I know I have the option to just leave whenever I want too, but... Part of me really wants to stay. To try. It's crazy in a way, but this could be a shot in hell-”

The two of them share a quick playful groan and chuckle over her joke before she continues.

“- A shot in hell that lets me try again, ya' know? Make up for what I didn't do. I'd be more crazy if I didn't take this. And so long me and Bella are friends while down here, I don't mind the bullying... Or Levi's erhm- his habit of avoiding me.”

Satan nodded, fully understanding Levi's nature when it comes to 'Normies' as he calls it. The conversation began taking a turn toward academics again, and for that moment Noelle had felt safe. She soon recognized that the Avatar of Wrath had been more than knowledgeable. There was a caring nature under his anger, and the dark skies got darker and night drew near.

The two left the library, and just barely made it to dinner. The open Dinning room was still so impressive. Noelle had been so immersed in her appreciation for the gold work and (hopefully, not but likely fake) skulls that she almost missed the current sitting arrangement.

Usually the brothers would sit by order of age, with Bella and Noelle at the ends, but today was apparently different. Asmodeus, Mammon, Bella, and Belphegor were aligned on the far side of the table. Lucifer had adjusted his chair to the end, and the other side sat Satan, Beelzebub, an empty chair, and Leviathan. Everyone's eyes, excluding a distracted by his Mobile phone Levi, had focused on Noelle as she stood fixated on the empty chair.

Lucifer had already seen the question of 'why?' floating around on her face. So he gave a brief explanation.

“It was recommended to me that Lord Diavolo wanted to see you and Bella have all the opportunity to bond with your Guides. So I gave everyone a new assigned seat for meal time. Feel free to join us if you'd like-” He was quickly cut off from his playful attempt at banter by Noelle's obvious discomfort, and sighed.

“Unless you have other plans for the night?”

Noelle looked at the table, her stomach asking for food, but her mind won her over at the thought of being so close to Leviathan. Usually she wouldn't mind, but earlier that week she had pushed Levi over the edge, and he had spat back at her. It was an argument over an art project. It was a co-op assignment, and Levi had verbally expressed his distaste for being forced as her partner for the project. It was a simple task. Create a piece of work that shows both partner's skills, and favorite art styles. Though Noelle had tried to appease him by making a quick joke about them both liking anime, it was deemed as derogatory by the Envious demon.

She had been expressing her skill levels in the anime, and manga art styles, and was trying to offer her aid. But it only worsened the situation. Levi had retaliated and torn her down as quickly as possible. He made comments about her being too young to ever catch up to him, and how she probably didn't even know a lick about art in general. He pointed out the amount of books she had bought on the subject and told her no amount of studying was going to make her good at it either.

The room spun for her. She had known nothing but art. It was a sore point, and she had shut down, swallowing hard as the following class 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at them. As if she was caught in an actual lie. She had refused to speak to Levi the rest of the day. Levi hardly noticed.

Noelle shook her head from the memory, and ignored the fractures forming in her heart as she nodded at Lucifer. Her sadness gave away slightly, finding a bit of poison in her tone.

“No- I actually have to study up on something for art class. As I was recently told that I apparently don't have that knowledge...”

She had turned on her heels quickly to walk away. The cold remark bringing the memory back up to the surface, along with the tears she had fought.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt. 4

I really need a pick-me-up after 2x11, and I feel like 1x7 might be what I'm looking for, so here I am again with another HSMTMTS rewatch. I'm genuinely so excited for both of these episodes, so without further ado, let's jump right into

1x6: She stands for... lies, pressure and very inappropriate suggestions (coming here after 2x11 might have been a mistake, actually)

I honestly don't get why Nini's reaction to seeing Ricky in full Troy costume was so big — he actually looked pretty ok to me. Sure, the wig is a bit too much, but so what, it's cute.

Ahhh my boy Reddy is so adorable in that talking head... 'click!' Gosh, I love seeing him so cheerful! Guess he's embracing his role as part of the crew. As he should.

'I'm home'. Yes, Sebby, and you look so good, too! Gosh, I love this scene so much. I can't believe I'd forgotten about it.

Gina looks beautiful, though — I mean, she looks beautiful in anything, but I really like the Taylor look on her.

Ok, I fully understand everyone's frustration about this picture — it's genuinely so hard to get a good picture of someone jumping up in the air, and I can only imagine what it would be like with six people. A bunch of my classmates tried to do something like that ages ago and, needless to say, it didn't go very well. No good pictures were taken that day.

Ah, Portwell: the early days. Ok, but wanting something and feeling like you have to get it is far from the same thing, EJ. Honestly, these two in their early days as accomplices... this is not the first time they've been like 'X is the same thing as Y' when it's obviously not. I mean, of course, that time they became accomplices because 'we want the same thing' — which, at that point, they didn't.

Ok, but they were in such unison with that 'Not now!'... couple goals! You know, even before either of them had considered the possibility of them being a couple for real.

That's a lot of pressure that Miss Jenn is putting on dear Carlito over there. I mean, he's one of the youngest at the drama club and he has to essentially do her job for her, all while she's not even sure if she'll be able to return to her job. I just... keep reminding myself that these kids are closer in age to my little brother than they are to me (except for EJ, who is precisely in the middle), and then the pressure they're under takes on completely new proportions in my mind. None of them should have to deal with all of this. And no amount of 'trust the process' is making it better.

'Should I just live vicariously through someone else?' Oh Reddy, you should just live for yourself. I mean, the truth is I don't practice what I preach most of the time, but I really do mean this. Just go out there and live your best life. You're not Ricky's therapy dog or anything (that being said, Ricky's getting a therapy dog when?).

What part of 'a forest of boys' does Nini not get? It's simple enough. Just help Carlos do his job, how about that? I mean, he shouldn't have to do everything himself anyway.

See? He cracked. That's what happens when you put all this responsibility on a teen's shoulders and be like 'deal with it'. He was just trying his best, you guys. He did not deserve all the clapback.

Ricky's forced optimism about Miss Jenn and the show is too much even for me. Sure, I know everything turns out mostly alright at the end, but this just sounds like Ricky's on the verge of a breakdown. You know, every time someone's been too unrealistically positive on this show, it has ended in a breakdown. And that's the last thing I want.

I do agree about the simple acoustic version of the song, though. Sometimes simple is the best option.

Major props to Carlos for going up to Mr. Mazzara like that. If someone had bullied me, and especially if that someone was a teacher, I'd never have dared to call them 'Benjamin Mazarra!' to their face. Even when he's on the verge of despair, this boy is still the boldest. And we love him for that.

Is this where the 'Carlos Surname' joke started, though? I had forgotten. It was funny while it lasted.

Ricky doesn't know it yet, but he's seriously playing with Gina's feelings there. And I don't blame him because, again, he doesn't know yet, but I still feel bad for her.

'Despite the 4.3 GPA, I'm actually an idiot.' — EJ is high intelligence, low wisdom, confirmed. Not that this is news, but I really don't remember much about this season, so I'm pointing this out now.

Now forgive me if I'm not feeling for Miss Jenn after 2x11... she did some really unforgivable things there. Still, as much as I want to say a real qualified teacher would not do any of that, my personal experience suggests otherwise, quite unfortunately. Miss Jenn might not be very emotionally mature, but not having legal teaching credentials is not her biggest issue, really. It is precisely her lack of emotional maturity.

OMG, Big Red accidentally invited the entire drama club over! And that, I guess, is half of how Redlyn established themselves as the hosts of every out-of-school drama club gathering. Thanksgiving is, of course, the other half. Gosh, those two were the parents of the drama club even before they were a couple. Guess they're soulmates in that way, too.

Ok, so I didn't comment on this after 2x8 when Big Red did it to Ricky, but now that I finally notice that Seb did it to Carlos, too (I took my time, thanks), I need to talk about the knee touch thing. See, this is exactly the amount of touch I used to be comfortable with (since I'm very touch-averse) — both on the giving and on the receiving end — and it can mean so much when you feel bad. It's a subtle 'hey, I'm here, it's going to be fine', a sort of hug-without-the-hugging... I feel like this is a gesture we don't see enough of in media and it can feel just as intimate as, say, holding hands or cuddling. I don't want to talk about kissing because I don't know anything about it. But I just love how we've got the knee touch depicted by both a romantic pairing and a platonic pairing in the show. Ok, rant over. But I just really wanted to talk about this because, well, I saw myself in it.

'Her past is a little bit sketchy'... I see, Ash has already started writing Truth, Justice and Songs in Our Key, even if she doesn't know it quite yet.

Miss Jenn finding out Mike is Ricky's dad is just as awkward as it should be. Whatever they had going on should have ended right then and there.

'... people in the dramatic arts are insane' — 'Thank you.' — Umm, Miss Jenn, you are not really helping your case there. Quite frankly, you're lucky you've got the allegiance of the entire drama club. I don't think they'd have your back as much after 2x11, though.

Ok, but... Big Red wearing a longcoat just to take it off for the dramatic flair of it all? An icon if I've ever seen one. Also, mad props to Larry for apparently learning this number in record time after Dara got injured.

Oh, and... mad props to all the kids in-universe for writing, rehearsing, and learning this entire number in one night.

So both Seb and Natalie have solo lines in the song... and Seb was promoted to main in s2. So does this mean Natalie will get the same treatment in s3? I mean, that will probably mean they'll try to stick her in some sort of romantic plot, and I really don't need that, but I really, really want her to be a main character.

Also, let's not forget we had our first Redlyn moment in this number... seeing them dance together makes my heart jump with joy!

I won't lie, though, the entire dance number and everything was just a little bit uncomfortable to watch after 2x11... these kids do so much for Miss Jenn, and what does she do? Put insane amounts of pressure on some of them, shuts others down at every attempt to put in a word, favours yet others despite their abysmal performance at the audition, and then has the audacity to tell that same person to jump off of something high, with all the implications attached? Not that I'm naming any names, of course. Ok, this has taken a sudden and uncalled for turn for the dark, so I guess I'll just move right along to the next episode now.

1x7: A world where 'That was terrible!' and 'I'm so happy!' can both be true at the same time

My girl Ash is doing the recap! And she's a pun queen, too. 'Miss Jenn was in hot water, Carlos was a hot mess...' — not pleasant, but so true. But wbk. Ashlyn is the best.

And... Ricky and Nini's on and off chemistry is back on. Good for them, because after season 2, I really needed to see a good rehearsal. But I'm thinking EJ's joy at the end-of-school bell had little to do with Thanksgiving...

That look Reddy gave Ashlyn as she was walking out... might be me digging for breadcrumbs, but I think I just saw the exact moment my boy fell, and he fell hard. Ok, I realise now after I've said this that 'fall' probably isn't the best choice of words, but you know what I mean. Fell for Ashlyn. Not like... oh, never mind.

'So meek, so mild, sword!' I can't really explain it, but I love this line. And I feel like it describes Ash so perfectly: like, she might be meek and mild, but if you cross her, she's armed. Gosh, I love her!

Not the Caswell parents leaving their children alone over two holiday breaks! No wonder these two are the way they are. But they're about to get a beautiful Thanksgiving celebration. [Fun personal fact: the year I was born, my birthday fell on Thanksgiving day. That doesn't mean much in Bulgaria, but my dad works with a lot of Americans so my parents knew about it and I've known this and that about this holiday I've never celebrated since I was very young. I have no idea why I'm telling you this, but Thanksgiving has always reminded me of my birthday for this reason, so... ok, moving on.]

So I know she kind of suggested it, but... why does Carlos think it's his place to invite people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, this was part 2 of Redlyn establishing themselves as the hosts for any out-of-school gathering, but... oh well, it led to a beautiful party with everyone, so... I'll allow it.

I really liked Nini's talk with her grandma. It was really nice, and a very fitting way to remind everyone what Thanksgiving is originally about. I feel like people often forget that when it comes to... literally every major commercialised holiday.

Wow, EJ really is that person where once the tap is open, it can't stop spilling. And I kind of like that look on him. It's a transitional stage between EJ 1.0 and EJ 2.0, and I appreciate it for what it is.

Ahhhh it's Redlyn's first proper 1-on-1 conversation! I mean, it got kind of really awkward really quickly because of — surprise, surprise — Nini and Ricky (and EJ), but those two are so adorable! No more breadcrumbs — we're about to get an entire five-course meal here! Which goes really well with the Thanksgiving setting, now that I think of it.

Gosh, they've never really talked and my boy whips out the 'the only thing I'd ever throw at your face is a brighter spotlight' line right off the bat? Boy is whipped! But like, he is the master of grand gestures where Ashlyn is concerned. Still, in this first moment they shared, he really was like, go big or go home, and home isn't really an option here. But I should have known, it's in his name after all. Gosh, I love both of those two so much! Especially when they're together.

Ok, so... this is a really bad way to meet your mother's new boyfriend. Poor Ricky. As if ringing his mum wasn't hard enough already.

See, when I rewatch season 1, I get where the Rina stans are coming from, but then again, remember when I used to say I wanted Gina and EJ to just be friends? Yeah, that's changed too. Not that I ever shipped Rina romantically — I rarely ever ship a pairing unless they're explicitly stated to have something going on, just because I can't see that sort of stuff very clearly — but I really, really want them (Ricky and Gina, I mean) to be really good friends. Once they get past the awkwardness of their sort of history, I mean.

I miss the good old days when Nini was a nice person... I mean, we kind of (really) had a glimpse of that in 2x11 (I'm guessing she was making up for Miss Jenn's very inappropriate slip-up), but I miss the days before she was this big internet-famous songwriter and actually had to be convinced by Ashlyn that she should write songs for herself... wait, now that I think of it... Ashlyn might have helped create a monster there. Oh well. Still love her so much!

You know, I love the Choosical, but it's all a bit sad, if you stop to think about it for a sec. Just picture little single-digit-aged Carlito making this whole thing up in an attempt to participate in his favourite thing... only to not have anyone to play with for the next ten years. Great, I just made myself cry. The thing is, I relate to that story a bit too much. I remember in preschool, when the rest of the children would play together, I'd sit in a corner by myself and read the only book that was there... over and over, day after day. I don't even remember a single thing about that little book right now, but back then I clung to it like it was everything. And I couldn't very much share the experience with any of my peers, seeing as I was the only kid there who could actually read (my grandma used to be a preschool teacher and she taught me to read when I was 4). So yeah. I went off on a rather personal tangent there. Thing is, I know how little Carlos felt and I'm so happy that he finally gets to share this thing he made with a loving and supportive group of friends. Everything has its time and place, I guess.

'Look, I'm not following Big Red just because he paid me a compliment' — of course not, dear, you know your own worth and we love that for you — but see, when he said that thing that you're referring to as a compliment, he did not lie! You really are the brightest star and deserve the brightest spotlight. See, the thing I love most about Redlyn's compliments to each other is that they're so sincere and state nothing but the absolute truth. Those two just see each other for what they are, and love each other as they are. And I think that is beautiful.

It's so funny to me every time someone gets something wrong and Carlos just walks past them out of nowhere and corrects them without missing a beat. I kind of relate to that side of him, too. Except it's usually about grammar and language in my case, not HSM trivia.

If I were Nini in this scene, and was suddenly put face to face with Emily on the spot like that, I would not have been able to handle it. So props to Nini for handling it.

Yeah, sorry to break it to you, Emily dear, but whatever you're doing is not a Cockney accent. I don't claim to be an accent expert, but I know first-hand what Cockney sounds like and... that's just not it. Even Dick Van Dyke was closer to a Cockney accent in Mary Poppins, and that's saying something. (See, I feel bad criticising any aspect of Emily because her actress is no longer with us, but... I have no idea who let them get away with passing this off as Cockney).

Is this the beginning of Jennzara there? I am loving this.

Of course Carlos was obsessed with Glee as a kid... but wasn't he a bit too young for it when it aired? I know I was, and I'm older than those kids. I mean, I waited until I was emotionally mature enough to watch Glee, and that wasn't until 3 years ago, when I was 18 going on 19. Ok, I'm thinking too much into this. Moving on.

Ahhhhh, Redlyn! Just... all of their moments. But screaming the lyrics of What I've Been Looking For on top of their lungs while looking right at each other... was so beautiful to watch. Give me more of that!

EJ: 'That was terrible.' Seb: 'I'm so happy!' — Moods, both of them. Those two are real-life emojis, aren't they? And we love them for that.

'... without laughing... or killing each other.' — I feel like that last specification was needed given that it's Ricky and EJ we're talking about, and especially what happened last time they had to do a one-on-one exercise during rehearsal. The ensuing scene, however, is the most hilarious thing!

Root beer, huh? Is that the HSMTMTS code for 'awkward' now? I mean, Nini and Gina had a nice talk there, all things considered. I really want the two of them to put the Ricky thing past them and be friends... but we'll see.

Gina is trying to make the sleepover thing look like 'it's not a big deal' despite how big of a deal it obviously is to her... to which I say, good for you, girl, but I wouldn't know. The only sleepovers I've ever had have been with my little cousin who is 9 years younger than me and also insists on sleeping with a very bright nightlight on, which means I can't sleep at all. So yeah, I wouldn't know. But I'm happy that Gina is feeling included.

So this is the exact moment when it becomes clear that Big Red is not telling us the complete truth when it comes to his HSM knowledge... '14 and 10'? Even I didn't know that. I knew 14, but... for someone who allegedly 'hates musicals', my boy has very detailed knowledge of one certain musical movie... I love how it got him a certain girl's attention, though. Not that she wasn't already paying attention to him, if you catch my drift.

Ok, but this hits even harder now than it did the first time — just when Gina has finally managed to make friends, to feel included in their group, her mum has to move her away again. This is straight-up tragic. I'll say it now, and I'll probably say it again when it comes up in the rewatch — Ashlyn is an absolute queen for taking Gina in for the next semester.

'That's sort of what you always do, huh? Take care of everyone else' — yeah, Ash, and you do the same. You two just need someone to do for you what you do for other people. See, guys, this is what I mean. This is why they're soulmates. Because in a world that has more or less forced both of them to put others first, they put each other first. They each get to be the most important person to each other after they've been stepping back for others all the time. And if that isn't beautiful, I don't know what is. I know I'm repeating myself over and over saying this, but... they own my heart and soul and I'm not for sale.

Ok, but Ashlyn's little run after Big Red left was so cute! Girl is... I don't know why I keep using that word, but... falling.

Unpopular opinion: Out of the Old is the best Nini solo to come out of this series to date. Maybe I feel that way just because I relate to it most, but hey, that is a valid reason to like something.

Oof, EJ's losing followers. Oh well, if they're unfollowing him for being too honest, they didn't like the real him to begin with. So good riddance to them.

Yikes... Jennzara fell asleep with flammable stuff left unattended... we all know how that ended, but just the fact that they felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in each other's presence... speaks volumes. So I guess... well, I don't know what exactly I'm saying regarding the fire they caused, but I loved this big little moment they had.

So this is it. That was 1x6 and 7 and, well, they were beautiful, but there are some parts I can't look at in the same way anymore after 2x11. Guess that's the risk of a rewatch. The Redlyn scenes, though — still the best part of both of these episodes. That and a couple of other things for which I don't need to pretend like I haven't seen season 2.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Blended

I was (thankfully) given some time off during this holiday season; which I promptly used to spend time with the family and recharge at home. Also spent time watching various movies during this time and a little LoK story idea came from it.

In my usual writing preference – it’s still a Lin/Tenzin endgame story but – in sort of a modern setting AU, blended family/semi-highschool themed with ages differed a bit (Lin and Tenzin was aged down by around 5 years). Expect it to be tropey and may be a bit of a cliché. This is written on a whim so if it doesn’t make sense…ah well. Haha! May edit this piece later on…

I’m considering this to be a short story, just a little self-indulgent-written-for-fun type of thing. But if other people enjoy it too then that’s such an added bonus so I’m sharing it with you as well. 😊 Let me know what you think since this is somewhat different from my usual style, I guess.

Also – I have misgivings regarding creating OCs so I’m likely to lean on canon characters and take a lot of creative license in developing them for the story.

 ---

Title (tentative):  Blended

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

(Not sure if one-shot or will be multi-part yet)

 ---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School

“Thank you for making time to meet today,” The silver-haired lady clasped her hands together on her desk. “I know you must have a packed schedule, but I think it would be good to have the check-in session for your daughter today.”

“Yes, of course – anything for my daughter.” The bald and bearded man threw a look at the door’s window, where he could see his daughter swinging her legs while seated at the corridor.

“Ikki is a bright child and she’s been doing her best to catch up with the class requirements. She excels the most at individual tasks.” The teacher continued to talk a little bit more about the projects that the students have been working on.

Teacher Yue handed the father a folder marked “Ikki”. Tenzin carefully picked it up and looked into the contents, smiling as he saw Ikki’s artworks and class outputs.

“However, I see that she seems to have challenges in adjusting in a large class set-up.” Yue shared. “It’s nothing to worry about though. We’ve had several transferees in the past as well and this is usual; I expect that might take a little bit longer since it’s a transition from homeschooling to a big school.”

Tenzin frowned and he hurt for his daughter. His two children had both been homeschooled until recently.

They also had to experience a lot of upheaval in the past year or so – from the divorce, to being uprooted from their childhood home, moving to a new city, and then going to a new school.

He did notice that while his son was as precocious as ever (maybe owing to his young age?), his daughter had become more subdued since their move.

“What can we do for her?”

“Well, we have a big sister-little sister type of mentorship program.” The teacher pushed forward a brochure and several index cards. “It’s mostly an afterschool interaction activity, we have here several students who have been volunteering. Maybe you’d like to ask Ikki to join?” She pointed at the index cards. “Feel free to select which mentor you think would help her best. We usually ask the parent or the student to select their preferred mentor profile from the roster. We would not want Ikki to feel uncomfortable; you’d know her best than any teacher.”

He nodded. After a few moments perusing the index cards and the brochure and pulled out one from the pile. “Let’s go with this girl.”

Tenzin pointed out to a profile labelled Jinora.

 ---

Jinora, Home

The ten-year old girl has just finished putting hair in a bun when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Jinora!” It was her oldest brother. “Mom says I can use the car today – want to leave with us instead of riding the bus?”

“Sure!” She called back, quickly grabbing her backpack. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright!”

Smack!

“Hey! Why did you do that for?”

“Good morning bro!”

Jinora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. That was probably her other brother slapping the arm of the other one.

Even at eighteen and sixteen years old respectively, they tend to act like children occasionally to the consternation of their mother.

She hurried down, knowing that if she did not do so, there would be no pancakes left for her.

Jinora heard her mother’s gruff voice in the dining room. “Bolin! Leave some eggs for your sister!”

“But, Mom,” Bolin spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “I’m a growing boy. I need this stuff.”

“And Jinora is a growing girl,” Their mother drolly responded, taking a sip of her coffee after putting down the last batch of pancakes on the platter. “There should be enough from everyone.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Jinora immediately sat down and her brother forked two pancakes to her plate. “Thanks, Mako.” She slathered butter all over the cakes then squeezed a load of maple syrup.

She ignored Bolin gagging at her left at the amount of sweetness. She also ignored her mother who was hiding a smile and shaking her head at seeing the display.

In their family, it was only Jinora had a penchant for sweets. Her mother said she likely took after her father in that regard.

Her father…her absentee father…

Jinora shook off her maudlin thoughts when she saw Pabu, Bolin’s pet guinea pig, land on her mother’s shoulder, probably hopping from her brother’s backpack which was hung behind his chair.

Pabu began chewing their mother’s greying hair without warning.

Wheek-wheek-wheek.

“BOLIN!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom! Pabu get down from there – leave mom’s hair alone!”

All in all, it was another morning in their household.

It was noisy and sometimes chaotic, but Jinora would not exchange it for the world.

 ---

Ikki, library

Truth be told, Ikki liked going to school. She even liked her teacher and classmates.

She liked to be busy and the activities were very interesting. Getting homeschooled and only seeing their tutor, nanny and Meelo had become very tedious anyway.

Staying at their old home also reminded her acutely that their mother was not there anymore. She did not understand what happened, but she tried to.

It has been more than a year since their parents sat her and her brother down to explain that they were separating but it did not mean they did not love her and Meelo any less.

At first, she thought it might have been her fault (or maybe Meelo’s fault for that matter, he did fart a lot and that annoyed her terribly). Her dad and mom were quick to quash those theories, however. They spoke of drifting apart, change in priorities and other grown-up things that she supposed she will understand when she gets older.

But for now, she supposed as she opened her notebook on one of the long tables in the library, they would need to get used to their new living arrangement.

It was difficult last year as they were shuttled to and from two households. It also did not help that their mother was starting out with her new venture had been spending less time at her home. On the other hand, Ikki noticed their father spending more time with them, cutting down his work hours. It all came to a head when Pema had said she will be moving to another country to establish her new business. And so, they ended up -.

“Hey, are you Ikki?”

Ikki looked up to see an older girl with dark brown hair in a bun.

She nodded her head yes.

The girl gave her a bright smile and extended her hand.

“I’m Jinora and welcome to Republic City!”

 ---

Lin, Future Industries Head Office

Lin tiredly wiped her glasses clean before putting them on again, rereading her email response for one last time before hitting send.

It had been a long yet productive day. Her team had managed to fulfill all the visual design requirements that were due that day. She reviewed the different files sent to the printers, making sure that the final and correct collaterals were attached.

Her last task was to ensure that the last set of proposals were on-brand and aligned with Future Industries’ visual identity. Once she had provided her comments and revisions needed on the file, she sat back as she waited for the files to be uploaded to their server.

She reached for her cellphone, wanting to check on her kids while waiting. She looked at their family group chat and read messages from the last time she sent one.

 Ohana (Lin repressed the urge to cringe. That was the final time that she would ask Bolin to create their group chat)

Lin: Kids – as mentioned earlier, I’ll be home a bit late. No need to drop by to fetch me; have dinner already and don’t wait up.

Jinora: Mom, I’ll be staying behind after class – I got a mentee! ☺ Mako Bolin can you wait up?

Mako: Jinora Bo has training today; I think we can wait for you.

Bolin: Jinora 👍🏼

Jinora: Mako Bolin thanks! 🙌

Jinora: Mako what will you be doing while waiting? You sure you’ll be okay?

Mako: Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.

Lin scrolled through some more messages. Knowing her eldest, Mako would like skulk off to the library.

Jinora: I met my mentee this afternoon. She’s such a lovely girl.

Lin smiled at this. Her daughter had always been the polite one.

Jinora: Her name’s Ikki and she’s two years younger than me. She said she and her father had first checked out Patola Mountain Primary.

Lin frowned. Patola Primary was far; she went there as a child.

Mako: Kid didn’t like it there?

Jinora: They didn’t have the chance to know. They had to move besause of her father’s job.

Bolin: heeey sorry guys- just about to be done with training. Just gonna shower …unless I just shower at home?

Jinora: Ew, no Bo. Shower first please

Mako: Agree. You’ll stink up the car, bro.

Ding!

Lin drew her attention from her phone as her laptop screen indicated that the files have been uploaded. She hit the send button and packed up for the day.

She was looking forward to spending some quiet time with her kids tonight.

 ---

Bumi, White Lotus Headquarters

Bumi leaned back in his fully ergonomic chair, thinking about how times had changed.

Being in an office was something he balked at when he was younger. But now, after serving a long career in defense and military, he submitted his retirement and come to the aid of his younger brother.

Ah, his only brother – back in the day, he would be hard-pressed to keep contact with his brother.

His brother who took on the role of spearheading their family’s company back when their father died.

His brother who had the task of continuing to revive the company and making sure it keeps up with the times.

His brother, who, despite being the youngest, was tagged by the board of directors as the heir apparent owing to his excellent academic records.

His brother who Bumi had felt envious of at some point. He later on realized that his brother actually missed out on a lot of freedom in his life.

His brother who managed to keep their company part of the Top 100 and make malls relevant again.

His brother who probably made some life decisions for the benefit of their company rather than his own.

His brother who had been through hell and back the past year when he and his much younger wife called it quits. His brother whose ex-wife is now galivanting somewhere in the Fire Nation, expanding a business built on horticulture and floristry.

His brother who, despite making some decisions that Bumi might not agree with, is still family.

And if there was anything that their parents taught them – family is permanent.

The ex-military man took a deep breath, looking at their last family photo. For what it’s worth, he liked to think that their fragmented family had found its way back into each other in their adulthood.

Bumi had to admit that Tenzin did have remarkable business acumen that benefited their company, a conglomerate built on the mall industry. With the fourth industrial revolution at hand and the shift towards virtual and digital, the White Lotus Corporation had been challenged during the last years of their father’s life. Tenzin had worked hard to change the ways of working and the culture in the company.

To do it, he had to make sure that there is a buy-in from the board. Ironically, to bring the company to the current century, he had to abide with one of the most archaic practices – an arranged marriage, a marriage that would serve as a press release to the business world in general, that their company was stable and there to stay.

Bumi had been surprised to get a call from Tenzin back then. He had called to let him know of his impending engagement, seeking support. Bumi had cheered, given his congratulations – but named the wrong bride. He had launched into a long tirade, berating his brother for his choices. Tenzin had shouted back his defense.

He still did not understand why Tenzin acted the way he did. However, he could never regret his niece and nephew which came from this questionable business-like union.

Bloop-bloop-bloop.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Uncle Bumi!”

“Hello there, cloudchild!” Bumi greeted his niece with a nickname his sister Kya came up with, given that the kids were actually born somewhere near the mountains. “How’s the new school?”

“It’s great!” Ikki beamed at him and gushed into a long narrative of what she had been up to in the past days.

Bumi enjoyed video conferencing with his niece and nephew. Granted, Meelo had a short attention span but Ikki had always had the flair for storytelling.

It pleased him to see her spark back. He had heard from his brother and their trusted bodyguard/chauffeur Shung that Ikki had been withdrawn during the first weeks in Republic City. It saddened him to learn that the otherwise bubbly child had been affected in that way.

“…And then, I invited her over! Daddy said it was okay – and she’s sooooo nice. Didjaknow she also knows how to play the piano! We practiced a bit. She’s good even if her family didn’t have a piano, they only had this electronic keyboard but it’s so short. But she did well. She said she had a stepdad and it was totally okay. They’re a happy family. D’you think I’ll have a stepmom too? I think it would be okay if Daddy thinks so and maybe we’ll be a happy family here too and you know I joined this contest in school and I-.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo.” Bumi let out his booming laughter. “I didn’t quite catch it – what’s the name of your new friend?” He was heartened that Ikki seemed to have adjusted better now.

“Jinora!” His seven-year-old niece practically chirped the name. “She’s actually here!” Ikki turned to someone from beyond the view of the webcam. “Jin, it’s my Uncle Bumi – I want you to meet him!”

“Um, it’s fine, Ikki.” A calm voice of an older child can be heard. “I can wait here.”

“Nooonseeense.” Bumi could see Ikki pull something, rather someone to the camera. “Uncle Bumi, this is my friend Jinora. Jinora, my Uncle Bumi.” She said by way of introducing them.

Jinora gives a small wave and a soft hello.

Bumi gives them a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Jinora. It’s great to meet the friend of my favorite niece (Ikki ­please don’t tell Korra).”

Ikki gives a delighted clap and proceeds into another lengthy tale on what she and Jinora were working on that day at home.

Bumi smiles back at them, observing the children’s banter as they demonstrate the monologue that Ikki was preparing for. It was amusing.

Heh, they could be cousins.

He recalled when he was young, he, his siblings and even the sisters-who-must-not-be-named would stay over in one house after school to work on school projects. It had been one of the highlights of his childhood. He was glad that his niece would be somewhat experience it; he had been worried a few years back when Tenzin and Pema (primarily Pema) were very protective of their kids. It was to the point that they were both homeschooled and basically kept out of the public eye and the public itself.

It can’t be good for socialization. But what can he say? He didn’t have kids so he probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about, right?

He’s just fun ole Uncle Bumi.

Nonetheless, as he turned his attention back to the two girls, Bumi promised himself that he will always be there for his brother’s kids. It’s the least he could do as their godfather.

 ---

Mako, Republic City High

“I worry about Mom.” Mako picked at his dumplings during lunch time, a stark contrast to his brother who was eating a lot (“Coach said I needed to bulk up!”).

“Why? Has my dad been overworking her?” Asami slipped beside him at their usual lunch table. She brought out her packed lunch of pasta and a bottle of coconut water. “Just let me know and I can try to look into it.” She was, after all, interning at Future Industries in her spare time.

“Now that’s just powerplay.” The exchange student from Ba Sing Se High chortled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “And that’s a no-no and Auntie will definitely get mad if she hears about that.”

“You would know about powerplay,” Bolin swallowed a mouthful of chicken, pointing his fork at the other boy. “Wasn’t that why you got the last slot in the elective you wanted to take this year?”

“Who? Me?” The other boy dramatically placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “You think, I Wu would stoop so low as to manipulate the results of the audition for the voice elective? Don’t you think I have enough talent to get into that class?”

Bolin just snorted into his food and Asami choked on her drink. Wu cracked a smile at their reactions.

“Again, Wu – don’t let Mom hear you call her Auntie.” Mako reiterated for the nth time in their friendship. “She hates it.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wu winked at them.

“Wait, Mako, what were you saying about Mom?” Bolin managed to ask in between bites of food. “Is something wrong? I mean, she’s a little bit run-down but she said it’s just because of the time of the year.” The last quarter of the year, after all, is usually the busiest.

“No, it’s just – well,” Mako sought words to explain it. “I’ll be leaving for college, you’ll be away for training, and okay, Jinora would be there but she’s in middle school now…” He trailed off. With Jinora’s aptitude and interests, Mako would not be surprised if she took on a lot of electives and extra-curricular activities. “Mom works too hard, you know?” He ended lamely.

“She has always looked out for us, but yeah,” A shadow passed over his brother’s face. “Ever since Pa passed away a few years back, she poured much of her energy to ensuring our welfare. She’s barely spent time for herself.”

Mako met Bolin’s now worried eyes.

The brothers knew that their mom had sacrificed a lot for them and Jinora.

When they first met Lin and one-year-old Jinora, she had already been under a lot of duress – taking care of a baby, leaving behind Jinora’s deadbeat dad, settling down in a new neighborhood and restarting a career. It had been two years later when she married their father San, who had been a sergeant at the city’s police station at the time.

And, Mako thought wearily, history has not been kind to Lin Beifong at all. While they did have four years (four wonderful years that Mako will treasure for the rest of his life), their fairytale-like family life came to an abrupt end.

San was involved in an armed bank robbery four years later and had not survived the gunshot wounds – leaving Lin behind with two boys at the brink of puberty and a young daughter.

Bolin and Jinora had been very confused at the time. Mako, already fifteen, had been expecting that he and Bolin would be forced into the system or sent off to their relatives in Ba Sing Se. He felt that Lin would not be in any way obligated to take him and his brother in; they were not blood relatives anyway. They were just stepchildren.

To his stunned astonishment, Lin did neither.  He recalled crying in Lin’s arms that night after his father’s funeral.

She had asked him, with a confused expression, why he was packing. Lin wept alongside him as she explained that Mako and Bolin are her sons and there was no way that she was sending them away.

Since then, Mako made sure to look after his mom the way she looked after them. The brothers’ protectiveness was soon well-known in their neighborhood.

Probably also why no one had expressed any type of interest towards Lin even years after…

Mako reflected that it might have been a good move on their part but now it might have been a little bit selfish.

He and Bolin would now need to rethink their strategy…

After all, their mom Lin deserves all the happiness in the world.

 ---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School – Parking Lot

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to have a sleepover?” Tenzin looked over at his daughter, a teasing grin out of place on his face.

“Of course not, Daddy.” Ikki replied indignantly, kicking pebbles as they waited at the parking lot.

“Why can’t you do the project at our house?” He was actually leaning towards allowing Ikki on her first ever sleepover/overnight but he wanted to hear from his daughter.

“We’ll need a big big printer, Daddy.” Ikki raised her arms to show him just how big. “We’ll need to print out my project and Jinora’s mommy has a big printer and lamin-lami-lamintor (“Laminating machine, dear?” Tenzin clarified.) because she frilancets (“Freelances?”).”

“Mmhhmm.” Tenzin looked across the school building, shifting Ikki’s overnight bag on his shoulder.

Ikki timidly approached him the other night, asking if she could spend Friday night and Saturday at her friend Jinora’s house. They had an output required of them of the big sister-little sister program. Tenzin was actually unclear as to what is the specific output that the girls had decided on but it did require a large-scale printer and a laminating machine.

Jinora attempted to explain to him what they were going to do during the last week that they were in his house but he felt out of his depth so he had nodded and let them work on what they needed to.

The father had met Jinora several times already in the past months so he knew the child was in earnest that their intent for the overnight activity would be mainly to finish a project. He also realized (well, Bumi made him realize) that Ikki was old enough for a sleepover (and Pema’s overprotectiveness would be to the detriment of their kids’ development). Additionally, he thought grimly, it would also keep Meelo from wreaking havoc on the work area of the girls.

Nonetheless, he took up Jinora’s mom’s offer to meet up for snacks before she takes the kids home. This would give him a chance to meet the mom, discuss some ground rules and as well thank the mom privately for letting Jinora help Ikki come out of her shell during her first months in Republic City Primary. Jinora did say that her pa and mom used to do the same before she spends the night over at her other friends – the parents meet up, share a small meal, get to know each other. Tenzin thought this was a good parenting tactic; it would definitely assuage his fears as well.

But now, said mom was late.

Jinora had hurried to them, dragging with her a large cartolina and illustration board. She explained that her mom’s work meeting overran and if it would be okay if she rode with them? Her mom will be meeting them at the local diner instead, so they don’t get caught up in traffic.

Tenzin could feel his impatience growing.

So far, this woman was not making a good impression on him.

How on earth she produced a lovely daughter like Jinora was beyond him.

 ---

Lin, Narook’s

Damn Sato, Lin ground her teeth as she finally parked her car into the last parking space in front of Narook’s. Of all the days for a meeting to go over time, it has to be today when she had explicitly asked to leave early to fetch her daughter.

Jinora had provided her enough context to know that making a good impression with Ikki’s dad was important to her daughter.

Lin heard that the dad was some big shot divorced corporate guy, who, she thought, was a bit paranoid about his kids’ safety.

Lin acted as an arts club moderator so she was regularly present at the Republic City High, which gave her chances to meet Ikki whenever she drops by the primary school to fetch Jinora.

The girl was a sweet child – energetic and delightful once she felt comfortable enough with you. It had come to her attention, in the short conversations with the kid, that she was not allowed to go out and play with other kids in their old neighborhood so she was very much excited to have a new friend outside of her class and her family.

When Jinora mentioned their culminating project and their dilemma on the timeline and materials, Lin suggested that they take the project home to work on.

The crestfallen expression of Ikki as she stated that her dad would not allow her pushed Lin to share that she’s willing to talk to the dad to help convince him to give his permission.

The infectious smile that burst on Ikki’s face was enough to convince Lin that she made the right decision.

Now, however, as she entered the diner, spotting her daughter at the corner booth, she froze and started to doubt all her life decisions that led to this moment.

Wondering and questioning the universe what had she done in her past life for her to deserve this.

Across Jinora, beside the talkative Ikki, sat Tenzin – her former boyfriend and Jinora’s father.

 ---

Note: Soooo hmmmmmm. What do you think?

[yoonjinkooked]

Daddy Day Care | Chapter 4

pairing; jungkook/female OC

genre; fluff, romcom, smutty in the future, Dad!Jungkook rating; explicit (IN FUTURE CHAPTERS ONLY, not yet) words; this chapter 5001 (lol), total so far (18.547) Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3

— synopsis; Jeongguk is your average 25-year-old - job, work, friends - everything regular. Except, he has a 5 year old daughter. And he’s single. Until a “princess” waltzes into his life.

warnings for this chapter: You still very much want to have Jungkook’s children. Cursing & Banter. Traces of Jinslut. JK is hopeless. You’re going to want to punch and hug him at the same time. Unable-to-flirt and struggle-to-adult Jungkook. A/N: PLEASE have mercy on me if there are any mistakes, English has been kicking my ass lately. Hope you enjoy. Sorry it took me this long. Let me know what you think, my ask is always open <3

It took no less than 10 minutes for me to see and understand why Eunmi is as whipped for Gayoon as she is. See, when you’re five, adults seem so cool, so serious, so grown up. Parents are parents, even if they are cool, they are simply not cool enough. If there is an adult in the mix that is old enough for it to be WOW to a five year old and also doesn’t have the responsibility of being the parent – jackpot.

Eunmi was acting like she and Gayoon are attached by the hip and Gayoon just played along with it. Even when Eunmi wanted to show her every single toy she has, even when she took her by the hand and dragged her away to show her every possible corner of the apartment. What would normally at some point become annoying to anyone, even me as her father, Gayoon took like a champ and not only played along, but actually seem interested. Hell, she even asked Eunmi questions.

She’s a natural and I can see why she’s Eunmi’s favorite teacher. I’m also suddenly very glad Yuki insisted that we pay an insane tuition for Eunmi to go to a private kindergarten.

And the little one did not hold back – she clung onto Gayoon like a koala. So much so that I got a heavy case of second hand embarrassment with how clingy she was being. I’m just glad she’s five – no matter what she does, ‘she’s five’ is always an excuse to get us out of any mess.

Two hours from the moment we stepped into the apartment and one impromptu tea party with stuffed animals, Eunmi managed to doze off, despite the excitement she had been feeling the entire day. Her words were dragged and her eyelids were barely open but she still refused to nap – until her head fell down onto Gayoon’s lap, her lips open and eyes shut.

“Let me help you with that,” I smile at Gayoon, keeping my voice low and my hands gentle as I pick Eunmi up, very careful not to move her around in my arms too much. She normally sleeps like a log but I can’t risk it – if she wakes up not only will she be cranky but she will probably refuse to sleep again. Not that it would do her much good, seeing as her eyes simply refused to stay open.

“Wait, let me help you,” Gayoon whispers as she gets up from the couch, walking in front of me to open the door of Eunmi’s room for me to walk through. I put Eunmi down on the bad, smiling when I notice her signature nose scrunch – for a second, I freeze, scared that she will wake but it turns out to be a false alarm. Very gently, I tuck her in and put her favorite teddy bear underneath her arm. Gayoon closes the door after me, smiling at Eunmi. “She is beyond cute.”

“I know,” I smile stupidly, unable to ignore the urge to gush about how adorable Eunmi actually is. “She is a little cutie but she already has a temper,” I add.

“No,” she laughs and shakes her head as we make our way back to the couch. “I don’t think she does. I suppose she can be a bit tricky but you have no idea how bad the other kids can be,” she tells me, giving me a pointed look as she reaches for her cup of hot chocolate – hot chocolate she had to help me with because I nearly burnt it. “There’s a reason Eunmi is one of my favorites.”

“Is she good to others?” I ask, making Gayoon look at me in confusion. “I mean, I’ve never heard anything about her fighting with other kids but… is it really like that or do teachers just say that to make parents relax and don’t ask stupid questions?”

“Oh boy,” she chuckles, smiling at me. Yeah, that’s the kind of smile that makes me swallow a lump when it’s directed at me. “It’s really like that. We wouldn’t lie, at least I wouldn’t. It’s important for parents to know what their kid is actually like, even if that means that they sometimes hear something they’d rather not know of. You have no reason to worry, though. Eunmi is a proper sweetheart and she’s nice to everyone. She’s also not a pushover, so don’t worry – she would hold her ground if need be.”

“Good,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “You’d think that after five years, I’d be sure of myself and of what I’m doing but most days… I swear I’m more like a headless chicken than a fully functioning adult,” I admit.

“Oh come on, we all have our headless chicken moments,” she reassures me, a smile still plastered on her face. “She’s your only child, it’s not like you have experience of raising one. I’d say both you and her mother are doing a good job. Both in general and in your circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” I ask, noticing that she suddenly looks uncomfortable. She’s looking away and her face is the face of someone who said something they shouldn’t have said. “If you’re referring to us being young, we’re well aware of that,” I laugh.

“It’s not that,” she shakes her head. “You’re young, of course you know that. But it’s one thing to have a teacher of your daughter point it out in a way that might sound condescending, even though it isn’t.”

“Don’t worry, I truly didn’t take it that way,” I tell her. And I mean it. “I was just confused as to which circumstance you’re referring to, us being young or separated, because both are quite specific circumstances and both are very much true.”

“Age can mean something, in my opinion, but it’s definitely not a rule,” she tells me. “Like I’ve said before, we can all be headless chickens every now and then. And as for the two of you being separated, I will let you know that my mother raised Jimin and myself all on her own, since Jimin was three and I a baby. So yeah, circumstances be damned.”

“That’s quite impressive,” I nod. I never knew that Mrs. Park was a single mom but then again, I had no clue Jimin was her son either, and I just recently saw Gayoon for the first time, so I probably shouldn’t be surprised how little I know about Mrs. Park’s family tree. “You’re one of the few people that actually don’t appear all judgy and mighty. I’ve gotten used to it by now – half the parents of Eunmi’s classmates look at me like I’m a high schooler or something.”

“Jeongguk… more often than not, you or Eunmi’s mother pick her up from kindergarten before other parents do. You both pick her up early to try and spend more time with her. Some of those kids stay in the kindergarten until five, six PM. I understand that many of those parents have jobs and obligations but so do you. And yet you still do it. If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about what they think.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are just a nice person?” I ask.

Fuck, verbal diarrhea. Why did I say that? It is true, I’m not denying that but why did I say it? I could have just said thank you or something like that. Well, at least I didn’t say that she’s the nicest person on the planet – it could have been worse.

“I’m not gonna lie, I have heard it before,” she laughs. “But it’s always a good thing to hear. And you seem pretty nice too.”

“Even with a daughter that clings onto you like a koala?” Jesus Christ, Jeon Jeongguk, shut the fuck up!

“Well, if you don’t mind me being honest, she’s the best part,” I laugh at her comment. She’s not wrong – Eunmi is the best part of me. She’s the best thing I’ve ever done and pretty much the only thing in my life I am genuinely and completely proud of. If someone thinks she’s the best thing about me, I’ll gladly take it.

“I’m sorry we kidnapped you for the whole of Christmas Day,” I tell her, feeling guilt rise again. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t expecting to stay at our place for three hours and counting. “I’m sorry if we ruined some plans for you. I’m an idiot who forgets his wallet everywhere he goes and Eunmi didn’t want to let go of you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she shakes her head, smiling with that adorable, small smile that makes me swoon and want to punch something at the same time. “I was literally working back at the kindergarten. We had a family lunch and we all went our separate ways. The only plan I had was Netflix and food. I got cake, Super Mario and a tea party, so I would say the day was quite fruitful.”

“Would you like to add some wine into the mix too? Eunmi seemed pretty knocked out, we can be adults until she wakes up?” I suggested.

Perfect, you fucking fucktard idiot person! You are literally asking your daughter’s kindergarten teacher to get drunk with you in your apartment while your daughter is sleeping in the next room. Are you absolutely out of your mind? She’ll run and probably get Eunmi expelled or something.

“That sounds like a great idea,” she surprisingly agrees. “I’ll just call Jimin to let him know he should take a taxi when he leaves for home so that he can drive me and my car back home.”

“Perfect.”

  For a usually quiet person, I realize that I am surprisingly chatty with her. In the little I’ve known Gayoon, she always seemed like a good listener. She would listen carefully, nodding along and looking directly at you, asking you questions when you pause for a breath. We had red wine and talked just about anything and everything until Eunmi woke up. Before we ended up playing Super Mario, we talked about her, about how difficult it is to raise kids, how difficult it is to work with kids, how I never thought I’d end up being an office worker and how Gayoon was positive she would end up opening a bakery.

Hours passed in good fun and before we knew it, it was Eunmi’s bedtime and of course, my daughter had to backstab me and refuse my offer to read her a story and saying she’d rather have Gayoon read it for her. I got a pat on the back from Gayoon, probably because I looked and felt like a kicked puppy, before she agreed to read her a story.

I was leaned on the door, listening to the two of them talk about princess and mermaids, because not a single page could go by without Eunmi asking both related and unrelated questions.

The teacher in Gayoon was present – well, either that or the fact that she actually does seem like a genuinely good person. She clicked with Eunmi so well, I could feel my heart swell.

I have only ever seen Yuki acting this way with her. Perhaps Byulyi and Hyejin, occasionally, but never anyone else. She… she seemed almost motherly. After having random girls run from me because I’m a father, run from me as if I am the plague itself, it’s quite shocking to see someone not doing the same thing. Of course, the context is different – Gayoon hasn’t shown a particular interest to get into my pants, nor have I shown interest to get into hers, at least I don’t think so. The context is different but it still feels so damn nice to see someone being so good with Eunmi.

I don’t move from my place until Gayoon does, moving gently to tuck Eunmi in and smiling up at me as I turn off the lights and make my way back to the living room. She closes the door carefully, quietly and smiles at me again. “I hope this wasn’t too much – I just can’t say no to her.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” I shake my head immediately. “Thank you. Thank you for doing that. Whenever she’s not with Yuki, I feel as if I’m not… you know, doing it well.”

“Please,” she rolls her eyes. “You’re much better at this than I am. Being a teacher and nice to kids is nothing more than my job – this is the role of your lifetime and you’re playing it perfectly, from what I’ve seen so far.”

“It’s almost sickening how nice you are.”

She bursts into laughter, quickly covering her mouth, not wanting to wake the little one up. I was wrong when I thought her smile is the most charming thing about her – now that I heard genuine, surprised and uncontrolled laughter, even if for a second, I know this one takes the cake.

For someone her age, our age, she sure does have a childlike laughter. And I’m pretty sure I’m staring at her now. Good work, Don Juan! How very smooth of you!

“I’m not that nice,” she shakes her head. “But I do have to say that… Oh!” she hurries to answer her phone, pulling it out of her pocket in the speed of light before the ringtone manages to wake Eunmi up. I even manage to recognize the ringtone. I pull the song out from the old, forgotten, punk brain of mine – The Ramones, ‘She talks to rainbows’. Of all the songs I expected to hear coming from her phone, this was not the one. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be down,” she ends the call. “Jimin’s waiting for me.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, thank you for bringing me my wallet. And staying with us. And playing with Eunmi. And talking to me. And reading her a story. Yeah, thank you for everything, I guess.”

Nice work, Romeo. Smooth talker, that’s what you are. Smooth fucking criminal.

“Stop thanking me,” she laughs as she moves towards the hallway, grabbing her purse and jacket from where I hanged them earlier. “I had fun. It’s safe to say we’re friends now – and friends do spend time with each other and their kids. And they give each other cake and bring each other lost wallets, so stop thanking me so much.”

“In that case, thank you for a lovely day.”

Okay, that actually was smooth.

“Hmm,” she narrows her eyes at me. “I’ll take that one.”

Before I could say anything or think about the position of my hands, she hugs me. I am completely frozen for a moment, before I realize that I have less than a second to react before she pulls away and this turns more awkward than it already is. So I hug her back, tapping her shoulder with my hand. She smiles as she pulls away and my face is probably nothing more than a painful grimace.

“I’ll see you around,” she smiles. “If you ever need a babysitter, you know my number.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I chuckle. “Merry Christmas Gayoon.”

“Merry Christmas Jeongguk.”

I stand at the door as she walks down the hallway, waving like a complete idiot even though she doesn’t turn around – I’m waving and she doesn’t even see it. I shake my head, snapping out of it and closing the door before she has a chance to see me standing here like a complete idiot.

I close the door, lock it and bang my head on it, hard enough for it to be painful, faint enough to keep Eunmi asleep and Gayoon unaware.

I think I’m in the beginning stage of having a crush on my daughter’s kindergarten teacher.

  “Could you at least try to pretend like you’re having a good time?”

The problem is, I did. For a good half hour, I looked like the very gif of The Office’s Michael Scoot gritting his teeth and looking as awkward as possible. For half an hour I did my very best to look as if I am having the time of my life.

The truth is, I don’t remember the last time I felt as uncomfortable as I do now. Seokjin insisted that I should not be alone on New Year’s Eve, which is exactly why I ended up following him to what he called the hottest club in town. Him and six of his best mates, most of whom I’ve known for years, but in passing, as I never really wanted to be a part of their sausage fest. Which is exactly what I am now.

Seven men and me, as bored and as uncomfortable as I could possibly be.

They come here with a goal – get drunk and get laid. And I just want to be home, in my sweatpants, eating ramen and playing Super Mario or finally catching up with Black Mirror. Literally, every possible scenario that includes me staying at home is better than the current situation.

My brain is one generic EDM song away from turning into pudding and my stomach is one fruity drink away from giving up on everything. I’m a stay-at-home, beer-drinking kind of guy. This is not my place.

So, to answer Seokjin’s question – no, I can no longer even try to pretend like I’m having a good time.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh, watching him shake his head in disappointment. While I know he’s joking, I also know that my mood is affecting his and the last thing I want to do is ruin his night – New Year’s Eve, of all nights. I don’t want to be that person, I hate to be that person but I can’t fight it. “It’s just not my scene.”

“You always adapted before. This isn’t your first rodeo,” he tells me and honestly, he’s right. I used to go out with him before and while it was never my favorite thing to do, I could handle it.

“I don’t know, I think I just have too much on my mind,” I yell, in order to overpower the bass.

“You’re thinking about your girl?” Seokjin yells back at me.

“No,” I shake my head. “I mean, I always think about her but it’s the way it is – I had her for Christmas, Yuki has her for New Year’s Eve. It’s the fairest deal possible.”

“I’m not talking about Eunmi,” Seokjin laughs. “I’m talking about her teacher. You know, the girl you’re crushing on?”

I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to tell Seokjin about it. I guess I expected advice, seeing as he’s my big brother and a ladies man extraordinaire. Instead of a good, solid piece of advice or even a rude wakeup call while reminding me that she is my daughter’s teacher, I just got laughed at. I called him the same night Gayoon left my apartment, and since then, not a day has passed without him mentioning it in a way that could appear humorous to anyone but me.

“Seokjin, I’ve told you, I am not crushing on her.”

“No, you just like her,” he corrects me and leans over to yell directly into my ear. “Look, you are making questionable choices because you can’t even remember the last time you had anything with any woman. You’re over Yuki and you’re not ready for commitment again but you need to get yourself out there and do something because crushing on your daughter’s teacher is not a common storyline. Find someone else to crush on before you and your ex need to change your daughter’s kindergarten!”

God, he’s right. Yuki will kill me if we have to change Eunmi’s kindergarten and judging by the way Eunmi seems to be attached to her friends and even Gayoon herself, she’d kill me to. I’d rather wait for her teenage years before I hear the first “I hate you” from her.

“Or, if you’re really hung up on her, ask her out,” Seokjin completely changes his story. “Just pick a side. Either grow a pair or take your pick,” he waves his hand around, as if he’s showing me all that the club has to offer. Outside the sausage fest we are in, the club really is full of girls our age, most of them in a pack with other girls, very probably looking for a hook up, the same way all of Seokjin’s friends know that if all goes according to plan, not a single one of them will be going home alone.

It’s like watching National Geographic or something. Two packs of opposite genders eyeing each other from different sides of the club, picking their pray and getting all hyped up before they strike. Words of encouragement shared, pats on the shoulders, a few giggles here and there and the plan is set in motion. Of course, not all is a hunting field – there are packs that are here just to have fun. I can see a group of laughing and dancing people who are…

“Holy shit, that’s her!” I all but yell, pointing to the dance floor.

“Her who?” Seokjin looks around.

“Gayoon, Eunmi’s teacher.”

For a second, I am sure that I am imagining things but as I watch her throw her head back while laughing, I am positive that it is Gayoon – it’s just not the Gayoon I saw a few days ago. This Gayoon has fairly shorter and curly hair – she had pretty long hair the other day. And this Gayoon is definitely not wearing the casual clothes Gayoon from the other day was wearing – unless a tight, black dress can count as casual. I’m a guy – what do I know?

“Wait, which girl are you talking about?” Seokjin asks as he leans into me, wanting a better view.

“Shoulder length hair, black dress.”

“Holy shit!” he yells and for a second, I forget we’re in a night club and my blood freezes, thinking that Gayoon must have heard him. “That’s Eunmi’s teacher?! No wonder you’re dying to live out a teacher kink!”

“She’s not MY teacher, you idiot!” I smack him on the shoulder, making him laugh out loud. I’m not laughing – this is becoming too much. “It’s not like that.”

“Looking at her, it should be like that,” Seokjin comments.

“You don’t get it,” I shake my head – of course Seokjin would not get it. He’s been in love once and after that particular train wreck, he hasn’t bothered looking for anything other than easy sex. “Yeah, she’s pretty and yeah she’s hot but she’s actually nice and friendly and most importantly, good with Eunmi.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Seokjin shakes his head.

“Yeah, because I can’t develop a proper interest into someone after like… a few hours spent with them! Just as I don’t want to have a one night stand with my daughter’s teacher! Of course I don’t know what I want – I might not even want anything and am just confused! I don’t know what I want and it would be very weird if I did!” I yell over the music.

“Well, I think she knows what she wants,” he nods his head and when I look back to Gayoon, I can see what he means – she’s definitely closer to one of the guys in her group than she was just seconds ago. They are dancing together, they’re bodies almost completely pressed together, his hands on her hips as they sway together, much too slow for the beat that’s threatening to make my brain explode.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Go there! Say hi! Talk to her! Dance with her! Get to her before he does!” he tries to push me away from our booth but I stay frozen, shaking my head.

“Nah, I just told you. I don’t know what I want and judging by that,” I wave my hand to her and the guy she is dancing with. “It’s a bit too late anyways.”

I have no right to sulk, I know that very well. Not once did Gayoon show any signs of being interested in me in any way other than a teacher-parent one, perhaps a friendly one too. She did not flirt, she did not say anything that would make me wonder if it has a double meaning and let’s not forget about the crushed mistletoe. Not to mention that I haven’t done anything either – of course I didn’t, I just think I might kind of like her.

I have no right to sulk at the sight of her expressing interest in another man and even though I try to fight it, I know I end up pouting, sitting in the booth and glaring towards them, sipping on the shitty cocktail Seokjin insisted on buying for me.

“You’re a complete idiot,” is Seokjin’s conclusion he reaches while looking at me in disappointment.

“Maybe I am.”

  15 minutes after the clock strikes midnight and the whole club drunkenly yells New Year’s greetings – that’s the time limit I’ve given myself. Long enough to not seem rude, just enough to not lose my mind.

“You’re actually leaving?” Seokjin once again looks disappointed. As bad as I feel, he had it coming. He knew I was not going to enjoy myself, he knew this is not my scene in any way. As bad as I feel for leaving him, one – I know he won’t miss me and 2 – he should be the one to feel bad for dragging me out to begin with.

“I handled it for as long as I could. Happy New Year, brother,” I pat him on the back and make my way through the ocean of bodies, towards the exit. I don’t look back, not to Seokjin, not to Gayoon.

I made a point of not looking her way for as long as I have been in the club – staring at her just seemed a bit too creepy, especially given that she was obviously pretty close to hooking up with the guy she was dancing with. It felt creepy, wrong and uncomfortable – so I decided to simply not look her way while I was there. I doubt she saw me but if she did, she made no move to approach me.

Outside, the weather and the atmosphere is hellish – snow started falling again and I obviously wasn’t the only one with the thoughts of leaving early – one by one, groups of people were getting into lined up taxis, while others were waiting for the next ones to drive by. Imagining the price I’ll have to pay for the drive back home on New Year’s Eve felt like a punch to the gut.

“Jeongguk?!”

Oh crap.

I want to hide, I really do. Maybe it would be believable if I don’t respond? It’s pretty crowded, I think I can play it off as if I hadn’t heard her. “Jeongguk!” her voice is raised now, as she is obviously certain that she’s not imagining things. I can’t hide.

I turn around, pretending to look confused and I see her walking my way, still in that short sleeved dress, looking as if she’s freezing her butt of, but still smiling at me. She even has blue highlights in her hair. I don’t know what happened to Gayoon from the other day.

“Oh! Hi! Hey! Happy New Year!” I sound like an idiot to myself but really, what else can I do?

“Happy New Year!” she beams up at me as she stops a few feet away. “Were you here the whole night?”

“Yeah, my brother dragged me out,” I roll my eyes. “I am escaping now. You’re leaving too?” I ask, noticing that the guy she was dancing with doesn’t seem to be around.

“No, not yet – I’m here with Jimin and a group of our friends, I can’t leave without them,” she explains. “I just thought I needed a bit of fresh air, after one too many tequila shots,” she adds, although she doesn’t appear to be drunk at all. “In hindsight, stupid idea – it’s freezing.”

“What happened to… No, never mind,” I stop myself at the last moment.

“What happened to what?”

“No, nothing.”

“Jeongguk, don’t be that person,” she laughs. “I hate it when people do that. Spill it.”

“What happened to cold never bothering you anyway?” I utter my lame joke, watching as she frowns in confusion – it takes her a moment to realize what exactly I’m referring to but when she finally connects the dots, she seems equally amused and pissed.

“I hate you,” she tries to sound serious but I can tell she’s fighting off a smile.

“You set yourself up for that one,” I laugh. We might not be friends now, hell, we might not even be friends in the future, but after our meeting, I am forever entitled to make Frozen jokes on her expense.

“The price I pay,” she sighs before smiling again. “Anyways, I’d better go inside before I turn into Olaf,” it’s a bad joke but I still laugh – that’s what she’s making me do now. I’m laughing at fairly stupid jokes. This isn’t good. “I’ll see you around. Happy New Year Jeongguk.”

“Happy New Year Gayoon,” I smile, waving at her once before she wobbles back inside the club, still trying to keep herself warm with her arms wrapped around her body – she’s right, it was stupid to go outside in this weather without a jacket. I should have offered her mine.

On the drive back to my place, I stare through the window and watch all the drunk, well-dressed people stumbling around, laughing, hugging one another. I watch and wonder when that stopped being me. I wonder if even I miss that being me.

The only conclusion I could come up with is that maybe Seokjin was right after all. Maybe I am a complete idiot.

[keeperofhounds]

Never Know Who’s Watching

You know who's watching, you need to all ways watch your back especially when you know you’re doing something wrong.

This is a fan work I make no profit off it. My Hero Academia belongs to its original content creators.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The teachers looked uncomfortably at the rat, dog, bear creature at the head of the table. Nezu didn’t seem all that put off by the pair of eyes staring at him, he was after all used to it. Why wouldn’t he be? He was an animal with a quirk, after all, this was bound to cause stares. This, however, wasn’t the cause of the stares.

Instead, it was a screen with what some might consider disturbing footage of a student threatening another student with their quirk. Not to mention all the comments, who appeared to be students from the same school, classmates of both students. Only the comments seemed to be focusing on all the wrong things, in fact, it seemed to be egging on the behavior.

One comment said, ‘Looks like he’s at it again.’

‘What did that loser do this time? Can’t he just keep his head down.’

‘Some people just don’t know how the world works.’

‘Who wants to bet that he said something dumb again. LOL.’

‘OMG, that kid is still around, I swore that he killed himself.’

Normally it wouldn’t be any of the teacher's business, this wasn’t any of their students. The problem was that the tags on social media clearly stated that the abuser was going to be a student at their school. UA takes its reputation very seriously, their students and potential students represent the school with their behavior reflecting on the school. To see such awful behavior in plain view being witnessed by their own possible student just goes to show the oversight on the school's part.

 Which is why the teachers were here. To make a decision on the boy in the video's future, ironically the other student being assaulted was also an incoming student. What should they do? Changing his homeroom teacher, it looked like they would be in the same class. Place him in general studies, that way he can get his act together. This wasn’t only the principles decision to make, it is the teachers as well.

Nezu linked his paws together, “So, what should we do about this incident?”

Thirteen raised their hand, “We can place him in another department, it’s too late in the year for him to apply for another school, at least even if it’s not Heroics he can still get an education.”  

“Wouldn’t that send the wrong message though?” Present Mic said, crossing his arms over his chest, “General Education isn’t a punishment, and a lot of the time students who didn’t make the cut to Heroics go through General.”

“That’s right,” Vlad King said, “I saw his exam scores, General would be a waste for him, why not keep an eye on him, if it’s a first offense then, I don’t see why we should ruin this kid's chances at becoming a hero.”

All Might was strangely silent to the entire discussion.

Nezu listened as the teacher's debate or argue over a course of action. In a perfect world Nezu could imagine helping this child on the right path, with them being able to achieve their true potential. It’s what any teacher would want for any child. In reality, though, some people can’t be helped by others. They had to help themselves before others could help them.

“Aizawa, this young man is supposed to be your student, it ultimately falls on you to have the final if any actions should be taken.

The shaggy-haired man glared at him tiredly, to him the solution was obvious to him. He had seen many punk kids before, growing up he even dealt with them. “ We revoke his acceptance.”

The teachers stared, that was too harsh.

“What a minute Aizawa, I get the kids a little rough around the edges,” Vlad said in the kid's defense, “but there’s no need to go that far.” 

Nezu raised a paw, silencing the homeroom teacher, “Can you explain why this course of action would be best?”

“It’s because he should know better. I don’t know about his home life or what he’s thinking, but I do know one thing, his behavior is unacceptable.” Aizawa looked at the principal in the eye, “The way he acts, shows that he’s done this before and to the same kid no less. This is a grudge that should have no place in a school environment, this behavior should have been stomped out ages ago.”

Nezu took the heroes' words into consideration. He’s right, like many times. This child was another one in thousands, they are a school for heroes and frankly, despite his impressive performance, he still has a lot to learn. He just hopes that the child could use this as a wake-up call, if he still aspires to be a hero then there is no reason why he can’t apply again next year.

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Bakugo Katsuki couldn’t believe what he was reading, what the hell, right? Why was the greatest hero school in the world rejecting someone like him? The stupid letter was making bullshit claims about him being out of line or some shit like that. He read the letter:

Dear, Mr. Bakugo Katsuki

    Thank you for your response to our letter of acceptance. The Admissions Committee has discussed at length about your prospects for the upcoming academic year. It is with a heavy heart that we send you this letter.

     As you know, the Committee takes seriously the qualities of maturity and moral character. After careful consideration, the Committee voted to rescind your admission to UA High School.  

    We are sorry about the circumstances that have led us to withdraw your admission, and we wish you success in your future academic endeavors and beyond.

Yours sincerely,

Nedzu

Principle of UA High School

Bakugo exploded the stupid letter with his quirk, the fuck did they mean about rescinding his acceptance, this was complete and utter bullshit. He was leagues above everyone else with his kickass quirk and smarts. They were making a mistake if they couldn’t see the mistake they were making by rejecting him. This was shitty Deku all over again.

“Deku…” Katsuki growled, letting out a string of explosives from his hands, “it was him, it’s always him. THAT BASTARD!”

Katsuki stormed out of the house, but not before causing his mom to yell at him and him to yell back at the crazy bitch. Every time something wrong happened in his life Deku always had something to do with it. Getting accepted into UA. The sludge villain incident. Mumbling about heroes. That day in the stream. WHO THE HELL DID THAT BASTARD THINK HE IS!?

“DEKU!” Bakugo called from outside Izuku’s apartment, banging on the door, “GET OUT HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

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Unknown to the explosive teen, Izuku wasn’t home that day. It was the weekend and he was off with All Might who wanted to spend time with him for some reason. Izuku had told his mother Inko that he was meeting with a friend, who helped him train for UA which technically wasn’t a lie, but not the entire truth either. It was just luck that he missed Bakugo’s rampage.

Inko, however, was home alone and scared out of her mind. There was someone at her front door banging on it, calling out a name. Inko didn’t see much point in trying to calm down the clearly feral individual at her doorstep, so she called the police.

Inko kept her tears at bay, glad that her son was out right now, who knows what he would have done. He was a sweet boy, so he would have tried to defend her. “Hello, this is the police speaking, what is your emergency?”

“There’s someone trying to break down my door,” Inko whispered trying to keep her voice steady, flinching at every bang at the door. “He keeps calling for someone, and he won’t leave, I’m too scared to tell him he’s got the wrong house, I think he might turn violent.”

“Don’t worry, help is on the way.”

Inko dropped the call. All she could do now is wait and hope the intruder doesn’t have any quirk that might be able to break down the door.

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Back outside Bakugo could feel his anger and frustration rising, the bastard was ignoring him. Who the hell did that Quirkless reject think he was, ignoring him? Not that of it mattered anymore, all his hard work went down the drain when that letter came in. So Bakugo let loose all his power onto the poor door.

A scream was heard, from the inside of the apartment. Glaring through the hole, all the middle schooler saw an empty house, but someone was there, just not Deku.

It was probably just his bitch of a mom. Deku should have been out by now, it didn’t look like he was home. Bakugo kicked the door, he had come here for nothing.

Police sirens echoed from the entrance, along with the sound of rushing footsteps. Bakugo was met with hero rejects of police officers pointing guns at him. “Freeze, don’t move, and drop on your knees kid.”

Bakugo wasn’t stupid, he knew he was in trouble, he lost his cool and stomped to a nerds house. Bakugo went on his knees, there was no way he was going to be some villain in his story. He’ll get out of this and do what he is meant to do, he’ll win this and then everyone will be sorry.

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Tsukauchi couldn’t believe the utter garbage coming out of this kid's mouth. Who the heck did this kid think he is? In what world did causing a public disturbance and threatening a single mother would be grounds for a slap on the wrist? The kid was taking it all cooly or as cooly as he could with his poor attitude. 

This kid was angry, but this was an entire level of anger. Thank goodness the person he was looking for wasn’t home, because, from the look in that kid's eyes, Tsukauchi would have been sure that the call would have been more serious. He fears that someone could have been dead in his altercation.

The police were able to take a statement from one Midoriya Inko, who couldn’t for the life of her understand what the boy’s problem was. Inko, however, cared very little, gave her statement and left hoping to put the entire ordeal behind her. Not that the man could blame her, it looked cut and dry to him. Not to mention that the mother had filed a restraining order for Bakugo to stay away from her and her family.

There will be consequences for this, he would make sure of it, not to mention he’s glad that her son had missed the entire encounter. The detective had heard a lot about him from Toshinori and it seemed like a stroke of bad luck that the kid would have had an encounter weeks before the end of the year. The least he could do was tell Toshinori that the kid's mom was alright.

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Bakugo could only stare angrily at the entire thing. He was being treated as a common villain by people who couldn’t even cut it as heroes. He looked to the side at his “counsel”, some lawyer bitch who came in talking about how she would get the charges dropped against him. Before he could even run, her off his mom punched him over the head to shut him up and to accept her damn counsel.

Which is how Bakugo found himself staring face to face with her. A woman with a face so fake that he knew this was an act, she wanted something from him. “So, what do you want bitch?”

She smiled, “My my, what poor manners you have, how are you going to get out of this if you can’t even play the part of a troubled teen?”

“THE HELL YOU SAY!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you a plea deal and then this episode will be behind you.”

“LIKE HELL!”

The lawyer gave him a dead-eyed stare causing him to freeze, he didn’t know what it was all about, but something about her told him to shut up and listen, “I know you were just showing off your power, nothing wrong with that sweeter, but you gotta play the system, if you don’t then you end up here. Let me do all the talking and everything will be okay.”

Bakugo couldn’t help but believe her.

“Now look I’m friends with the judge, he’s going to send you to a special place where you can use your quirk all you want, as long as you don’t get cause everything will be fine, for now though,” the lawyer rummaged through her purse and placed a book in from on the restrained teen, “why don’t you catch up on some light reading.”

When the woman left Bakugo stared at the book reading the title, Meta Liberation War. 

[goodnightallwhites]

V is for Victory by Zenalite

Chapter 1 - Chance Ever since we were young Victoria knew how to put me in my place. I fell in love with her in the sixth grade. With her lush nut brown hair and the light brown eyes - not with her body. I remember my father came to our play at school and told me, “That girl of yours has got one hell of an ass.” I’m mortified now as I remember it, but at the time I thought nothing of it, nor did I understand what having a “hell of an ass” meant. By the eighth grade… I got up to speed. I used to sit by my desk and watch her ass swaying in tight jeans all day long, dreaming of touching her bubble but. Or at the very least holding her hand. Really, I could’ve gone for anything. I'd have gotten hard from holding a straw for her while she drank so long as I could do it. During one project we had to do she informed us of her background: German and Peruvian. Well, damn. That accounted both for her dictatorial quick temper, curvy little hard body and cheerful thoroughness all at once. Instead of saying a word to her, though, I only watched her interact with the jocks from my class. Watched as they put her arms around her and pulled her romantically in their laps. As they felt her up without a worry in the world, and as she half-assedly told them to stop while loving every second of their dirty caresses. I crazily decided to write her a letter for Valentine’s Day and sneak it into her school bag. Only after I did the deed did I realize that I hadn’t remembered to put down my own name on it. But relief washed over me as well. I couldn't begin to imagine the humiliation if she turned me down, which happened to be the only option. I'd have to quit school. Or kill myself. The very next day Victoria came to school asking guys individually if they had written anything to her, with enough anger in her tone to scare them off. She seemed pissed off, but also genuinely interested in finding out who was behind it. We had never spoken before, not even once to greet each other. But when my turn came she sashayed over to my desk, flooding the air with her spicy perfume, and asked, “Did you write this?” Her torso rose before me, with her budding breasts showing under the thin blouse. A small gap of smooth skin between her blouse and jeans showed her toned tummy and the fuzz that went down... I blabbered out an affirmative answer. As I sat there frozen, the other classmates that had been trailing after her following the drama pointed at me and cackled, making fun of my letter. “Next time, just give it to me yourself,” she said coolly. "Why did you write me a thing like that anyway?" "B-Because I like you." "And?" She folded her arms expectantly. "So what?" "I don't know..." "What were you planning to do once I found it?" "I don't know..." Victoria clicked her tongue impatiently. "Were you going to ask me out or something?" Was that a friendly tip? "I wanted to." "So do it. Let's get it over with." The others had gone quiet and stared at us. I couldn't breathe. This was too intense. "Will you go out with me?" Victoria rolled her eyes in disinterested boredom and sighed. "I guess. At least you wrote me something, unlike these other dickwads. But don't waste my time. Make it nice." After that we started dating, if you could call it that. We went out together and talked. For my first date I got her flowers and a plushie, to which she reacted with great hostility, asking, "Do I look like a kid to you?" In spite of the comment though, she held on to it fondly and took it home afterwards. Being so naive and inexperienced, I had no idea what to make of it all. But at school Victoria still hung out with the popular kids, and the guys made no attempt to acknowledge that she was taken. If anything, their behavior went up a notch, and I’d often see them lowering their hands to grab her butt, all the while shooting me a wink of acknowledgement. Fucking assholes. It was around that time that I realized black guys would be the biggest problem. We had a classmate by the name of Lee that made a move on Victoria whenever possible. She could be chatting with her friends during break when he’d slip behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, grinding against her candidly and kissing her neck. Or he would give her a playful smack on the ass whenever the teachers asked her to distribute the corrected papers to the other kids. Victoria made no moves to stop him. If anything, she seemed to relish the attention she got from all the guys and especially from a strong and athletic stud like Lee. A guy which all the girls seemed to want. Whenever we got a substitute teacher and things got super relaxed, she would often go to sit on his knee, only to get swept up into his arms and nestle up in his lap. Can't you see me? I would wonder. I dared not say anything. I considered myself lucky just to be able to talk to her. It was enough that we went out every weekend, even if it seemed more friendly than romantic. We would talk about our family life, about her hopes for the future. "I can't wait to get away from my parents," she confessed to me. We were sitting at one of the tables in the park having some McDonald's. "I'm so sick of them. They won't let me do anything." It seemed to me like she did far more than anyone else. She certainly dressed provocatively... "What do you want to do?" "Honestly?" Victoria chuckled grimly and bit into her burger. "Anything they don't want me to. Fuck them." It seemed to me that we were getting closer. She even let me hold her hand on our dates, and said good night to me in the evenings in text. The way she acted when we were together seemed completely at odds from the bossy and bitch yet high-energy way she acted at school. But at the formal for that year, Victoria danced with Lee the entire night. Whenever I went to her she dismissed me with, “Later.” A few of the kids drank in the bathroom in secret, and she did too. I sat at one of the tables with the rest of the rejects and watched as Lee danced up close to my girlfriend and moved his hands all over her body in ways I never dreamed of. And unlike the other white jocks that were reprimanded by the teachers for doing anything, the teachers avoided eye contact with Lee and Victoria so not to be put on the spot, knowing perfectly well what went on. Victoria wrapped her slender arms around Lee’s neck and the two kissed deeply. My girlfriend. Kissing another guy at our formal. I was supposed to remember this night. To treasure it. She knew I would be watching. We even talked about it on our last date. I wanted to go home and cry. Lee felt her ass through the dress. But soon his dark fingers came down low enough to caress her thigh, and after went up and under the dress to knead her ass. And they spent the rest of the night glued to each other... I just got up and went home, too frustrated to think. I never mentioned it to her. A few days after that we went on a date and I made an attempt to kiss her when we separated, only to have her pull away. “Uhm, maybe another time…” “But why?” I asked indignantly. “You kissed fucking Lee!” Victoria’s eyes shot me a piercing glance. “So? I can kiss whoever I want. If you have a problem with that, let me know, and I’ll find a boyfriend that doesn’t. If you want me to kiss me so bad, just let it happen. The better you are to me, the more likely it is I’ll kiss you.” Then came the night I got my first kiss. It was the height of summer break and Victoria hadn’t answered my texts all day. We hadn’t even seen each other face to face in over two weeks, though her Facebook was full of new pics she uploaded from her outings downtown and to the beach. She called me at around 2 a.m. “Heeeeeey, baaaaaabyyy,” she drawled. “What’s up?” “I was… sleeping. What’s up with you? I’ve been texting you all day.” "Oh, I know. Sorry! I was just busy all day... Are you home by yourself?" As a matter of fact, I was. My mother worked night shifts as a nurse, and Victoria knew that. “I am.” “Could I come over and spend the night?” I sat up in bed anxiously and flipped the covers off. Back then I still wore some Star Wars pyjamas. What times. I need to change, I realized with urgency. “Y-Y-Yeah. You can come over!” “Okay, great. I’ll come right now. I hope you don’t mind I’m bringing a friend.” “No… Not at all…” I should’ve known in advance what kind of “friend” she meant. But I hurried to get myself changed for the big event and clean up my room enough to be welcoming. When Victoria showed on my doorstep all alone, I thought the night was saved. She didn’t bring anyone after all. A flimsy sequin dress hugged the curves of her body tightly, especially around her wide hips and round butt. Even in these few months of summer, her body seemed to get thicker by the day. She shambled inside on uncomfortably tall heels and gave me a peck on the cheek. “My friend’s parking right now. He’ll be in soon.” Her friend turned out to be a massive black guy whose name I never learned. To say that he wasn’t in our age group was an understatement. The guy must’ve been at least in his late 20s if not in his 30s at the time. Not only were his arms covered in tattoos, but a scorpion had been inked around his brow as well. Victoria introduced me as her boyfriend, at which point the guy grabbed me into a tight hug and patted my back amicably. Okay, so he’s not that bad, I thought at the time. Maybe nothing bad will happen at all. Everything changed as soon as we got in the bedroom. Both he and Victoria went over to my bed and began to make out, while I sat down at my desk chair, watching them go at it without a peep. Unlike Victoria, the guy acted a lot more passive and a little out of it. I kept seeing his gaze wandering to the window. Could he really have this happen to him so frequently that he could act totally disinterested? Victoria started to play some rap on her phone. She kissed his neck and arms, then slowly lifted his shirt and took it off. It was just so clear from her behavior that she was the thirsty one that couldn’t get enough. And that made me hard as well. Her lips pressed against his hard abs and his pecs over and over, her dainty fingers rushing over the black skin to feel the hard-packed muscle flexing underneath. Drunken with lust with and willing to do whatever he wanted her to. I knew at that moment that whatever he had asked at her, whether it was to break her cherry or have her kneel so he could piss in her mouth like a urinal, Victoria would’ve submitted happily. The lure and the power of BBC became all too apparent even from my perspective. At length his massive hands wrapped around her waist, then slowly came down to grab her perky butt. He lifted her dress and exposed her ass. All Victoria wore was a high-waisted thong. It was the first time I had ever seen her… like that. My small dick raged at full mast but I dared not touch it. The black fingers dug into her young, soft asscheeks and massaged it, playing with her teen ass however he pleased and smacking it for good measure as they made out. Victoria only giggled happily in response and whispered to him. At some point she turned around and met my eyes. I jerked at my seat with surprise and embarrassment. “It’s okay, honey,” she said calmly, almost lovingly. “You can touch yourself if you want.” That was all I needed. I leaned back and stroked myself as I watched my girlfriend worship this alpha male that she lusted after, ogling the way his black fingers went all over her white flesh at leisure, in a way mine never would be allowed to. Only black guys for her. This was porn in real life. Not even. Far better than porn. I could not have pointed out a moment in my life when I felt better than right then, jerking myself off as I watched her offering her young body to a black guy in my own bed. “I love you,” I heard her whisper hotly. “Fuck me.” “And go to jail?” He laughed. “I don’t think so.” Her nails bit desperately into his flesh. “Please, Daddy. I need it… I need your big black cock inside of me.” He frowned. “What you need is a good spanking.” “Then spank me, Daddy.” Victoria practically begged for it, grinding herself against his crotch and putting all the sultry energy she could into her voice. "Please spank me and teach me a lesson, Daddy." Our black friend suddenly lifted her up and brought her facedown on the bed, with her ass in his lap. The moonlight streamed through the window and put the spotlight on the intense curve of her bubble butt. The two perfectly round asscheeks rose tantalizingly, topped by two cute dimples that were inked out by the shadows. His black hand came down to rest of her ass, and for a time even he seemed in awe of its perfection. The wonders of a nice teen ass. Fresh and completely available to him to do with as he pleased. His fingers caressed it gently, then sank into it roughly. Victoria yelped and laughed darkly in response, but he quickly bundled up her thick hair and yanked her head back, arching her back and in the process and getting her butt to curve upwards. “Punish me, Daddy, please… Please punish me. I’ve been such a bad girl.” At first he smacked it only jokingly. But seeing as she begged for more and seemed to want it hard, he began to slap it outright. That rough and rugged black hand whipped discipline into the fourteen-year-old white ass and taught her a lesson about black superiority neither she nor I would soon forget. Victoria, who had begged for it, now lost her slutty voice and cried out for him to stop for real, bringing her hands back to ward off his blows. Didn’t she realize it was far too late for that?   The guy grabbed her wrists together and held her still, not coming down upon he ass with all the annoyance built up by her interruption. Not play - real punishment. The soft flesh jiggled and rippled with each hit, while Victoria howled in her palms. Her toes curled as the burning agony overtook her butt, her whole body twitching from the waves of pain that went through her. Not once did the stud relent. Not once did he listen to her cry for mercy. He only gave her what she begged for. He finished off with a sigh, leaving Victoria whimpering like a child as she wriggled her reddened ass high in the air. Almost as if she wanted more. Her body convulsed in response to the rough treatment. I couldn’t help but wonder… Did she come? I certainly had. The black guy caressed her hair and quieted her down, at which point he brought her back up for a makeout session. Victoria double checked she had his number right and held his hand lovingly as she walked him out. She came back into the bedroom, still trembling slightly. “How do you feel?” she asked me. “G-G-Good,” I managed to say. “How about you?” Victoria grinned and threw her head back. “Amazing. That was so fucking hot.” She turned around to show me her red butt. A few spots of blood glimmered. “How do I look?” “You look wonderful.” Victoria giggled grimly. “Is that so? Yeah, I could see you enjoying yourself as well. I was worried how you’d react to that. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised. I must say I’m… happy that you’re my boyfriend.” She looked away as soon as she said that, but not before I could hear the shy crack in her voice and the blush in her cheeks. This was what made her nervous? This? “I’m glad you’re my girlfriend, too…” Victoria said nothing for a time. Then she turned around, came over, and kissed me. Our first real kiss. I awkwardly struggled to learn in the space of a few seconds how to do it, but all I could do was press my tongue awkwardly against hers. She broke it off, laughing. “You’re terrible.” Seeing my disappointed reaction, she added, “But I’ll teach you how to do it properly.”  

[constantconfusion111]

Etched into your skin - Chapter 3

Here’s the 3rd chapter! Thanks everyone for the comments/likes/Kudos, you’re the best!!!

Link to AO3

Link to Ch1 ; Link to Ch2

---------------

Type was an expert at denial. He wore it like a second skin.

As he moved his boxes in the condo he’ll share with Techno, no one could have imagined his brain was torturing him. He almost met Tharn.

The first thing he’ll do as soon as class started was to find out in which university his soulmate was exactly as to stay the fuck away from it forever. Maybe he should consider changing university. His parents would definitely not be on board with that. It took him almost 3 weeks to convince his father to let him ditch the dorms.

Frankly, his dad didn’t want him in a condo for his first year, but Type had little choice in the matter. He simply couldn’t be in the same room with Tharn. The man would find out. Maybe not the first week, maybe not even the first month if he lied about his name. But he would eventually. And Type refused to deal with the potential fallout. So he had to use an argument he wasn’t proud of.

‘Dad, I’m not feeling safe in a room with another random guy.’

He had felt guilty and uncomfortable using that against his dad. But the result was instant, and the following week he was already signing the lease of his new condo.

“Type! Here’s your last one,” called Techno, sliding a cardboard box on the floor.

All was fine, he could handle this.

----------

Maybe Tharn had been overeager.

When he had red the letter, he’d stared at it unblinkingly for what felt like an eternity. His mother, worried, had read over his shoulder. Before he knew it, his face got crushed in a suffocating hug as she was part laughing part crying for him.

His dad had soon barged into the kitchen, concerned about the noise.

The rest of the evening had been very loud as his parents swinged between congratulations and hugs. And then he had to explain everything for a third time when Thorn came back home later in the evening.

Saying he was excited was the understatement of his life. So as soon as the first day of moving into the dorm rolled around, Tharn brought all his boxes and started to put his things away.

He wanted to be there to welcome Type in what would be their first home together. Tharn wanted to smile at him, see in his eyes a reflexion of his thoughts. Would he be nervous? Giddy? Composed?

Type would already know who he was.

Were they supposed to hug? Was that too forward? But at the same time, he couldn’t just… not. That would be too strange. Maybe they could go out and eat together to chat, starting to get to know each other. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to leave the room.

Tharn had so many questions for him. But probably the first one would be why hadn’t Type registered himself? If his soulmate was in Uni, he had to at least be his own age. Was Type one of these people that wanted the meeting to be organic? Was Type a romantic?

His heart was beating too fast, he was feeling light headed.

Tharn was going to be fine, he just had to handle himself until Type arrived. That’s what he had to keep repeating at least.

Tharn looked up at the dorm’s door with each item he was putting away.

After emptying his first box, he only raised his head whenever he heard movement in the hall.

After the third box, he stopped altogether, massaging his neck slowly.

As the night rolled around, he had to accept today wasn’t the day. Maybe he really had been too eager. They still had quite some time until the start of the semester.

However, on the first day of class, as he woke up yet again facing an empty bed, Tharn’s enthusiasm vanished like smoke in the wind.

Type must have known, he must have received the same letter as him, clearly stating who his roommate would be. Suddenly, Type not being registered sounded less like romance and more like avoidance.

But why? Why would Type not want to meet? Even if he didn’t want a romantic relationship, which did happen sometimes, why not meet with him and tell him?

What if something bad had happened?

As soon as his first day of classes ended, Tharn excused himself from the group of freshmen that wanted to go out for celebratory drinks, claiming he had some administrative issues. Lhong had thrown him a look, but didn’t stop him.

Technically, Tharn wasn’t lying. It just wasn’t his own administrative problem. He approached a woman reading behind her desk.

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother, but I think there’s a problem with my roommate.”

She looked at him with the sort of weariness born out of dealing with stupid requests from days on end.

“Unless the issue is actually very serious, there’s nothing I can do to help. All the rooms are jam packed, so we can’t transfer the freshmen left and right.”

“Ah, no that’s not why I’m here. I’m worried for my roommate, he never moved him. Since classes started already, I was wondering if everything was alright. His name is Type Thiwat Phawattakun.”

She hummed, turning toward her computer and checking some files. It took a couple of minutes of silent scrolling before she turned toward him again.

“He cancelled his spot in the dorms. Very last minute actually. Freshmen are more and more irresponsible each year…”

Tharn felt a pang in his heart at the news. Type has cancelled. He’d backed out of their meeting.

“Where is he now? Did he drop out of University?”

“I don’t think so, it does happen that freshmen give up the dorm for their own private accommodations. It’s more expensive, but also more comfortable.”

So Type was definitely avoiding him.

“Could you tell me which University he’s enrolled in please?”

At that, the woman looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“These are private information that I cannot share with just anyone, sorry Nong. You should just enjoy your big room for yourself, you’re the only one lucky enough for that.”

Tharn felt anything but lucky.

-------------

Turns out, finding one guy within an entire University complex could be quite the challenge. The first thing people said when he asked if they knew Tharn was:

“Tharn? From which Uni?”

So far, he’d only managed to confirm Tharn wasn’t enrolled into the faculty of sports. Only a million more people to ask.

Despite the stress of having to look over his shoulder all the time and making a point of asking people their names before they could even think of asking his first -which had already put him in hot waters with some seniors- University life wasn’t half bad.

Living with Techno was fun. In the evenings they played games together and chilled. Sometimes Techno invited some of their classmates to hang out and drink. They had met some very cool people, particularly a guy called Champ who seemed to know all the best restaurants around. Friday or Saturday nights, they even managed to motivate each other enough to actually go to a proper bar.

Classes are as easy as they ever were and as long as Type listened to the lecture, he barely had any efforts to put into his homeworks. Still drove Techno up the wall in frustration. The coach liked him, even though he always said that Type had to keep his temper in check or he’ll be benched. Type knows he’s good enough to not have to worry too much about the threat. Again, that drove Techno completely crazy since he’d already started his recruitment campaign to convince everyone to elect him as team captain. For his senior year. What was wrong with that boy, Type wasn’t too sure sometimes. In any case, sucking up to the coaches was part of his strategy. Techno did try to deny that last point, but there was an overwhelming amount of evidence against him. For instance, the way he almost tripped on his own feet to play delivery boy.

“Bring this to the music faculty office, it’s the selection of songs we want them to play during the matches.”

“No problem coach! I’ll go right away.”

His bunch of papers under the arm, Techno came back to his group of friends.

“Guys! Come with me, we need to deliver some papers.”

“This is in no way a ‘we’ situation No,” said Champ, stretching out his legs.

“Sorry, we’re kind of in the middle of our stretches,” tried Team, offering a small smile to the other boy.

“Type is on his phone! He’s not even pretending to stretch!”

They all turned to the accused who was indeed lounging on his side, scrolling lazily.

“Type does whatever he wants…”

That was true and it made him very happy to know they already realised it after only a couple of short weeks.

“Tyyyyyype.”

“I would rather die than come with you No,” came the deadpan answer.

“You could at least look up from your phone!”

His plea went unanswered. Knowing better than to annoy the young man to the point of aggression, Techno cursed them all and started his solo adventure.

Techno had to actually ask his way a couple of times as the music and sports department weren’t close at all. He even had to take a Uni shuttle, receiving plenty of curious looks since he hadn’t taken the time to change out of his sports outfit.

Despite being quite a trek away from their faculty, the music building looked pretty similar to their own. Maybe there were more windows. Was light important for musicians? Did they share with the art department?

His adventure wasn’t over quite yet though, the entrance office wouldn’t take the papers, complaining about messing the systems up and Techno got redirected once again.

“So… third floor, and then at the back of the building…”

Every single room, every corridor looked the same and nothing appeared as being the back of anything.

“Shit!”

“Hey, are you alright?”

Techno turned around, coming face to face with-

“Handsome boy!”

The man raised both eyebrows in surprise, readjusting the straps of his bag on his shoulders.

“What?”

“You’re so pretty, are you an angel sent from the sky to help me?”

The man was adorable with a very cute face and pouty lips, a single long earring catching the light on the side of his face and despite his clear confusion, he still offered Techno a large smile.

“I can definitely try.”

“I need to find the faculty office of the music department. It’s about music for our matches,” he explained, flapping around the brown envelope he’d brought all the way there.

“Ah I see, I’ll walk you there. You’re very close, but it can be tricky to find the room.”

“Lhong, is everything fine?”

Techno turned toward the man that seemed to have called his saviour.

“Damn! Is it a requirement to be handsome to get into the faculty of music?”

If Lhong was cute, the newcomer was definitely handsome, and that despite the dark circles under his eyes.

“All good, I’ll just show this guy the way to the office. Save me a spot in the canteen?”

The man nodded and left without further ado.

“Let’s go!”

“Thanks man, I’m Techno by the way. I’m in the faculty of sports.”

Lhong laughed, checking him out from head to toe.

“Yeah I could have guessed that. I’m Lhong. Isn’t the faculty of sports super far away from here?”

Techno groaned loudly.

“So far away! I had to take the Uni shuttle to come!”

“Sounds like a pain, you should stay to eat with us so you wouldn’t have travelled all the way for nothing.”

After one last corridor turn, they finally arrived in front of the teachers’ office. Techno would never have found it, even the door tag was scratched out and faded.

“I wish, I lost too much time already, I’ll have to hurry back and pray my friends didn’t ditch me. But give me your Line ID! I’ll send you a message and we can go grab a drink, I’ll treat you as a thank you.”

“Ah, that’s not necessary, it was nothing.”

Techno shushed him, already fishing out his phone and pushing it in Lhong’s hands.

“Nonsense! It’s gonna be fun. I’ll bring my friends, bring the hot one you were with before. I’m sure music students know the best bars.”

Lhong shared his number and after a last goodbye, they parted in front of the office.

Maybe his adventure hadn’t all been in vain.

[writings-with-curves]

old acquittances | young!bruce wayne X chubby!reader

Anonymous requested— I love you sooooo much, and you write for Gotham too?!! You're my favorite person ever uwu So could you write something for Bruce? Like that boy is so handsome *sparkling eyes* Maybe reader and him are old friends or something, and they see each other again now that Bruce is doing his spoiled brat facade? And some feelings and tension? Pure please, Bruce and his actor are still babies

He is indeed a very handsome young man😝 I felt really inspired by your request so I really hope you like it cause I had a blast writing this😘😘

WARNINGS: Teenage feelings, self-doubt, mentions of alcohol abuse, teenager stupidity, teenager -ness overall and fluffiness? Nothing NSFW with this boy cause he is indeed a baby.

You meet him, or better said, you reencounter him in a crowded club. You're celebrating your friend's birthday and are enjoying the music and the energy from the place. Granted, you probably won't become a regular but once in a blue moon you felt like letting yourself go even if just a little but not too much as to not lose sight of your friend who's been flirting with a guy you're pretty sure it's well past his twenties or so.

You let your group of friends go to the bathroom together and stay to look over your drinks while wondering why is it that women need to go to the toilet in group. You sigh and think to yourself that you're surely not the only girl in the world that feels this way.  When your friends come back from the bathroom they're qiggling and the birthday girl, Miranda, it's almost squealing.

“You won't believe who's there!!” She says excitedly while taking glances towards one of the VIP areas that's particularly crowded. “It's Bruce wayne! You went to school with him, right?”

You raise your brows, it'd been a long time since you've heard that name, let alone heard anything about him. Ever since the death of his parents years ago Bruce had almost vanished from the life of Gotham, or at least from the parts that you frequented. You've always liked Bruce. You spent most of your younger years in the same class as him in Gotham Academy, and even were at his house a couple of times when his parents still lived.

You wouldn't go as far as to call yourself best friends, more like circunstancial friends since life had put you on the same road, and admittedly, your world was small enough so there wasn't much room to find good friends. Still, Bruce was a sweet kid and you liked spending time with him.

“How nostalgic." you mutter, not really noticing that you've spoken out loud.

“You should go and say hi!” Added Miranda, while nodding enthusiastically.

You don't know why, but you stomach ties and unties at her suggestion. It's not that you weren't curious as to what he'd been through or how was he doing, but you'd more rather prefer to catch up in a different manner. Approaching to an unknown bunch of people wasn't exactly your cup of tea. One thing was small talking to a stranger that you'd probably never see again, but breaking into another group of friends dynamic was a bit too much for you.  

“Maybe later.”

You send furtive glances all night towards Bruce's location, and you can't help but feel silly for being so excited by knowing that he's so close. You realize then that you've missed him more than you had ever noticed.

You decide to go to the restroom and see if you find the courage to approach him on your way back to your friends. You're too busy sorting through the animated strangers dancing around while keeping an eye over where he is, that you don't see the waiter about to impact against you until it's almost too late. You brace yourself for the crash, but instead you're grabbed and pulled away from harm's way, your body closely pressing against an stranger's side.

“Sorry about that,” you say, while sighing relieved, turning yourself to face the helping stranger and giving him an apologetic smile. “Thanks a lot, I almost got covered in glass.”

“Of course.” you finally look into his face, and the stranger looks almost too familiar, he's slightly smiling, and there's a cheekiness displaying on his features. You're probably staring, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you, nor does he lets go of his grab on your arm.

“Bruce?” You question, incredulity still very present on your voice. He raised an eyebrow and you're left speechless at how grown and mature he looks. It’s almost as if a cloak of dignity has fallen upon him. He's taller than you now, and for a moment you wonder if this is really the small boy that used to play with you.

“I'm sorry, do we know each other?” His question pinches a hole right through your chest, maybe it's been too long and saluting him wasn't that good of an idea. You can't help but feel uncomfortable by the exhaustive look he’s giving you. You're used to stooding out, you've always been bigger than most girls your age, but that doesn't mean you can't get anxious everytime someone scrutinizes you. It's weird though, cause Bruce hasn't lost his educate smile, and even more he seems genuinely enthusiastic about you now that his eyes had taken a good look at you.

“Um, we were at Gotham Academy together.” You mutter while shifting in your place. You don't know when did he let go of your arm, but you're using your now free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Bruce watches your movements with intense attention, and he leans closer towards you, to speak closer to your ear.

“Sorry, I couldn't hear you.”

“I said,” you begin, leaning yourself towards him, the loud music reverberating through your bones and filling you with a new confidence. “I said that we were classmates, at Gotham Academy!”

He stares at you for a moment, clearly trying to put a name to your face, finally, realization hits upon him and his eyes spark with youthful and exciting joy.

“(Y/N?)”

You smile, and come closer towards his ear cause the DJ has decided it's a good time to blast the roof off from the building.

“How've you been Bruce.”

“You've changed a lot, no wonder why I didn't recognize you.” His breath is warm against your skin, and you know that his remark isn't meant to mock you about your weight or appearance, even more it feels like a compliment. It's not that you hate yourself, and you're able to see that you're indeed good looking, and there are a lot of things that you're proud of yourself for, but still. There's always that second voice, deep at the back of your head that isn't so nice. “You look beautiful.” He adds, as if he had read your mind and sensed your seconds of self doubt.

He seems to enjoy the smile that Grace's your lips after his comment, and feels proud of herself and your animated voice when you voice a “Thank you” against his neck.

“Wanna come and join me?” He asks, while glancing towards his VIP lounge.

“I'm with a friend and it's her birthday, but thanks.”

“She can come too.” he insists, and you smile a little.

“I'll have to ask her.”

Bruce nods in agreement and gets even closer to you. You can smell his cologne, woodsy and citric, and once again you're taken aback by how grown up he looks and acts. “I'll give your names to security.”

You thank him, and give her your friend's name, and as you're about to turn around he stops you by reaching for your hand.

“I hope to see you soon, (Y/N).” He says as a goodbye, and just when you think you can't feel more abashed he presses a kiss against the back of you hand, while staring directly into your eyes.

Sadly, you're not able to ask Miranda if she'd like to join the other party, cause just as you're arriving to your table you get a text from her asking for your help in the bathroom. Another one of your friends has decided to throw out all the contents in his stomach, and now you need to make sure he doesn't get yelled at by being at the ladies room while Miranda pats him in the back.

Once he's finally done all you want to do is go home to forget the nauseous smell that has installed into your nostrils. So you ask for the bill.

You’re beginning to take out your card  when your waiter approaches you while giving you a polite smile.

“Your bill has already been paid, miss.” You wonder if maybe another of your friends beat you up to paying, but the waiter continues. “A young man told me it was on him, and asked me to give you this.”

You take the piece of paper the man is offering you and watch him leave before reading its contents.

Say happy birthday to your friend for me.

Breakfast tomorrow? This is my number— 369-999-369

—Bruce

You smooth the piece of paper even when it doesn't need it, a new, wider smile spreading across your lips. You put the piece of paper in your purse and bite your lower lip absentmindedly.

It looked like Bruce Wayne was, once again, part of your life.

[lils-writes]

À Quoi Ça Sert L’Amour

Here are the first two chapters of my fic entitled “À Quoi Ça Sert L’Amour”. 

Summery: Disowned by age 19, Adrien has no one to turn to. All his friends are far from Paris and he has no way to get to them. Well, all but one baker girl he befriended when he was 14.

You can find it on AO3 as well!

The streets of Paris never seemed this dull in all of Adrien’s life. But now, with a small suitcase in one hand and a small piece of paper in the other, the city of lights shined no more and everything felt out of place. Or maybe it was just him who was out of place. But what was his place? Where did he belong?

Adrien Agreste was the heir to the Agreste fashion empire. He was, in the past. Now, he as just Adrien. Adrien nobody. His father decided that he had enough of his son, showed him the door and handed him a check, just enough for the boy to survive for some time. What was he supposed to do now? The press would quickly be on his trail, once the news was out. He couldn't live his life on the run.

Soon enough, the blond dug through his bag, pulling out his phone. Out of habit, he composed Nino’s number, only half expecting the touring DJ to answer. Nino had just always been a source of comfort for Adrien. His best friend always knew how to cheer him up. Luckily enough for him, an energetic voice shot through the speaker, making Adrien smile a lit.

“Hey dude! What's up? Why you callin' so late?”

“It’s 8 in the morning. How is that late?”

“3 am, dude! Remember, I'm in America with Alya? Time zones, pal.”

“Oh.” It was all Adrien managed to get out. The words caught in his throat, turning his stomach over. “Sorry, I'll call back another time, then.” Adrien almost hung up, had it not been for Nino's shouts.

“Wait! What happened? Another fight with the old man?”

“He kicked me out for good this time.” Adrien’s voice was barely over a whisper, a shameful whisper. It hurt more than he thought it would. It had been 5 years since the passing of his mother, 5 years since his father became increasingly cold towards him. Nathalie used to say that it was because he resembled his mother too much for Gabriel to handle, but this grief of his had gone too far. The father-son bond was ruined to the point of no return. It had gone from a little distance to being completely disowned.

“You can stay in my apartment if you want? I’ll call my landlord, tell her to give you a key to my place if ever you want.” Nino's voice sounded desperate, desperate to help his best friend. Adrien smiled on the other side of the line.

“Thanks Nino, I’ll think about it. I should let you rest, it’s late where you are. Sleep well.”

Adrien stared at the red phone icon on his phone as the call ended. At least he had a place to stay for a few weeks. Nino wasn't his best friend for nothing. They always had each other’s back, no matter how far apart they were. Adrien was grateful for the other boy’s generosity. He'd have to find a way to repay this generosity. Maybe he'd do something to the apartment, or get Nino some kind of equipment he needed. Then again, Adrien no longer had the money to do that. Money had always helped him repay these kinds of debts. Now, Adrien had to be more creative with his ways.

Somehow, unconsciously, Adrien hit Chloe’s contact and held the phone to his ear. He was lost. He needed a friend. He needed someone, badly. Insecurities had started flowing back in, blanking him. His life was upside down and he didn't know how to deal with this.

“Bonjour, Adri-chou! How are you today?” The pitchy voice of his first friend made him smile. It was comforting to hear Chloe so happy.

“Nothing much. I just wanted to know if I could see you today.”

“I'm sorry, Adrikins. I'm out of the country for a little while. My mom booked me flight to all the hottest places to be. Red carpets, photo-shoots, everything I've ever wanted. It really boosts my career as a fashion critic.” Chloe actually sounded apologetic for once.

“Oh, alright. In that case, I hope you have fun and that we’ll get to hang out once you're back in Paris. I have to go now. Talk to you soon, Chlo.”

“Ttyl, Adrikins!”

Chloe blew him a kiss before hanging up. Chloe had really changed, these past few years, but she still remained Chloe. She was still bubbly and affectionate, but she had grown into a better person. She was nicer with everyone, putting all that bad attitude of teen Chloe behind her. Age made her realize that kindness would get you farther than bitchiness would. The thoughts temporarily made Adrien happy, pushing the bad thoughts of Gabriel to the back of his mind. It helped him make his way to Nino’s apartment. Adrien needed a place to crash down in to think.

On his way, Adrien crossed a bakery. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in hours. The smell of fresh pastries pulled him in. He had always been a sucker for anything sweet, even if Nathalie always forbade him from having any. Being a model meant he had a strict calorie counted diet, and Nathalie judged sweets to be an unnecessary waste of those precious calories. Slowly, he walked in, a little bell announcing his arrival.

“Welcome to the Dupain-Cheng bakery! How may I- Adrien? Good morning, Adrien!”

The girl behind the cash grinned at him as she grabbed a croissant from the display case. She was still talking, but Adrien didn't catch a word she said. When was the last time they had spoken? How many years had it been? She still remembered him, gleefully greeting him, as if it had been just a few days. She had always been a cheerful person, always there for everyone. Marinette really was a wonderful girl.

“Here, it seems like you’ve had a rough night.” She handed him a fresh croissant, smiling at him. “On the house.”

Adrien held up few euros, trying to convince her to accept them. He had enough money to buy a croissant. But Marinette was stubborn. Something about treating her friends. Adrien gave in, taking the croissant with a wide smile and sitting near the counter, close enough to still be able to talk to his old classmate. He liked her voice. It was comforting.

Surprisingly, conversation flowed naturally. It wasn't anything like the conversations Adrien had with Chloe or Nino, but it was also very different from the memories of conversations the two had had in their school days. Marinette seemed a lot more confident, stuttering a lot less. She was smiling more, seeming more like who Marinette must have really been. She was hardworking, but also seemed laid back. Her work looked effortless and with an extreme precision, clashing the image of the clumsy girl Adrien had always had. Maybe Chloe had been exaggerating, calling her Klutzy Mari all those years. It was nice to see Marinette at peace, happy, herself. But all that’s good must eventually come to an end.

“So, how’s your father?”

Adrien’s shoulders tensed at the mention of his father. Of course, Marinette hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, since she didn't know the whole ordeal with Gabriel. No one knew except Nino, afterall. Adrien took another bite of the croissant before answering.

“He’s doing fine. Business is booming, his name is spreading even more around the world. He’s getting models from everywhere. They’re practically begging to work for him. Well, until they know how it feels to work for Gabriel.”

Adrien couldn't resist slipping in the little comment. He sunk his teeth in the flaky croissant one again, frowning. Marinette looked dazed, almost as if she was daydreaming. As long as she wasn't dreaming of the wonder that was Gabriel, Adrien would be fine, but since he didn't possess any mindreading skilled, he wasn't completely sure as to what she was thinking out. Then again, she did have a slight admiration for Gabriel. This is something Adrien had always known, ever since he met the young girl. Marinette had always been a creative mind, creating things ranging between drawings to clothing to baking. She was amazing at everything she tried! She had always impressed Adrien.

“I wonder what it’s like, being the head of a fashion empire. You must have an idea, right? I heard from Alya that your father hired you during the summer to prepare you when it came the time to take over the family company.”

“I’d have to be family to run it.”

Adrien clasped his hands over his mouth, his eyes growing three sizes larger. He hadn't meant to let that comment out, but it was too late to take it back in. Marinette shot him a questioning look. Clearly, she was expecting an explanation from Adrien, having stopped her counter cleaning. The boy slumped down into his chair, refusing to meet her eyes. Shame came flowing in.

“He kicked me out this morning. Disowned. Adrien Agreste is dead.”

Marinette’s eyes filled with sadness. She pulled a chair across from Adrien, offering him another treat and coffee, which he refused. Her words of comfort were distant, Adrien’s head buzzing with the shame of losing his name and of venting to this girl he had lost all forms of contact with years ago. She deserved better than this pathetic scenario.

“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. You probably don't care about my situation, and I don't blame you. Even I'm annoyed with myself.”

Marinette vigorously shook her head, her eyes riveted on Adrien. “Absolutely not! I am by no means annoyed by you! And I most definitely care about what happen to my friends!”

Marinette was still calling Adrien a friend, and it broke his heart a little. This sweetheart of a girl was calling this pathetic excuse of a human her friend. She deserved better than him. She didn't deserve to deal with his family drama. Yet, she wouldn't let him go.

“Do you have a place to stay? Do you have enough money? I can ask my parents to help! We have a spare room, if you need a bit of time to adjust to your new life. And if you want, I can put in a good word for you. My parents are looking for a new baker helper, since I’m about to really be sunken in all my work: commissions, internships, my own personal projects and so on.”

Marinette went on and on about the multiple ways she could help him, and Adrien couldn't help but stare at her in disbelief. Well, disbelief that she was so willing to help him and shame that he needed the help of someone who had no reason to help other than pity. Obviously, Marinette was pitying him. She found him as pathetic as he knew he was. Why else would she want to help him?

Yet, there was something that threw Adrien off. Maybe it was the way she was playing nervously with her clothe she had been wiping the counters with, maybe it was the way her voice occasionally became more pitchy, especially when she said Adrien’s name, but there was something that was telling him that she didn't pity him. There was a little voice inside of Adrien that was telling him Marinette was helping him because she wanted to, because she was a generous beautiful soul that just wanted to be there to make the world a better place.

“Thank you, Marinette. I have a place to stay in, hopefully. Nino is supposed to call his landlord and let me stay there, but I don't know if he’ll do that today, since he’s in the USA.” Adrien forced a smile as Marinette nodded. “I think I can survive, but thank you again. I should get going. I have a big day ahead of me.”

Adrien pushed the chair, getting up. Marinette mimicked his movement, rising to her feet as well. She was smiling brightly at him, wishing him luck on his new adventure. It was crazy to think how this girl, an old classmate of Adrien’s, was more encouraging than his own father ever was. It was crazy to think that all it took for Adrien to realize how little support he had gotten growing up was to be disowned.

Adrien waved at Marinette, shooting her a “have a good day”, before making his way towards the door. But as the little bell chimed with the opening of the door, Adrien felt fingers wrap around his wrist. How did Marinette get so close to him so quickly? She was at the counter when he turned around!

“Before you go,” Marinette huffed, still grinning, “take this. It’s not much, but I’d like for us to stay in contact.”

Adrien stared at the piece of paper Marinette had handed him. 10 numbers were clearly written, Marinette’s name beautifully written right under. Adrien glanced back at Marinette, smiling back.

Marinette flushed pink, hurriedly letting go of the blond. “It’s if you’re interested in the job! Well, it’s actually my cell number, but if you want the job, you can call me and I can arrange something, if you want of course, because that’s up to you!”

“Thanks Marinette. I’ll think about it.”

Adrien chuckled a little before walking out of the bakery, the paper secured between his fingers. It was nice to think that he had a job offer without even trying. He’d call back if he was really desperate, not wanting to take advantage of his position as an acquaintance of the owners’ daughter. It would be unfair to the other applicants, who probably had more experience than he did.

“You can call me if you want to talk to a friend too, if you want!”

Adrien turned back to the sound of the voice. Marinette was leaning against the doorframe, her hands around her mouth to make her voice louder. She was still grinning, waving frantically at Adrien. Suddenly, Adrien saw the huge change between the old and the new Marinette. He liked the old Marinette, but he was starting to really like the new Marinette. He was liking the idea of having a friend nearby.

Adrien waved back, clenching the paper tighter, afraid to lose it to the wind. It was his new treasure. Nothing meant more to him than this paper did now.

[evoldick]

How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?/ How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?/ What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now?/ What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?/ How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish?

001. TATE MIRRORS HIS FATHER’S APPROACH    to   his  family  ,   he’s   highly    apathetic   towards    the   man  .    as   a  child  ,    i   suspect   he   accepted   Hugo   and    (  dare  i   say )   loved    him   ,    maybe   blindly   and    to   an   oblivious     fault   .    but    like   most    psychopathic   children  ,   he  was   frighteningly   aware    of    the    dysfunctions    around    the    house   ;   between  his  parents    and   the   unusual   level   of   neglect   toward  himself   and    his  siblings   .   this   was   “normal”    to  him  .  the  Langdons    didn’t    have    a   happy    marriage   .   perhaps   they    tried   ,    to   keep    appearances   ,    to  force    things    to   work   ,    but  Hugo   was   unfaithful    and  an   alcoholic   .    mind  you  ,   incredibly   functional   ,    as  they    lead    a  very   comfortable   life   .    Hugo   was   a   successful     car  salesman   ,    and    married    Constance   when   she   was   very   young   .   though    Tate    remained   unaware   of  what    had   really   happened   to   his   father   ( murdered  by  Constance )  ,    he  knew   something  was   wrong  .    posthumously  ,    Tate   didn’t   get   to   see   Hugo   around    the  house   as a    ghost  ,    mostly   because  Hugo   is  not   aware    he   is   dead  ,    and   shortly   after   his   “disappearance”    Constance  couldn’t    manage   the   bills    and  she  ,   with   her   children  ,    had   to  move   out  .     Tate   ,   for    a  long   time   ,    held    a   grudge    against   Constance   for     driving  his   father  away   ,    perhaps    imagining  things    would   be    different    had   they    lived    with   his    father   instead   (  or   so   he   told    himself  )  .   begrudgingly  ,   he   moved  on    from     the  abandonment   (  so  he   thinks  )   .    subconsciously   ,    he    keeps   the   image    of    his   father  at  bay   .    as   he   grew   older  ,    Tate   acquired   mannerisms   and   gestures   very   reminiscent    of    his    father  .   facial  expressions   ,   body   language   ,   speech   patterns   ( sometimes )  ,   all   these    things    that    have    gotten    a   mixed    reception   from   his  mother  .    after   Tate’s   own   death   ,   in   the   house   ,    knowing   of    the   permanent   residents   already  ,    he   finally    discovers    what   happened   to   the   man  .    there’s   a   mix    of    anger   and    apathy    in   this   ;        anger   towards    Constance   ,    for   lying    to  him   .   apathy   toward    Hugo  ,    as   he   doesn’t   blame    Constance    for    killing   him   .    this   is    a   small   conflict   he    carries   toward   his    parents  ,   one  which    causes   no   ripples  in   him  .   as  far   as  Hugo   Langdon   is   concerned  ,   Tate   is  completely   unburdened  .   whether    the    shared    savagery    between    the   two    is   an    inherited  trait    or   not   ,   is   up   to   discussion  .

002. TATE HAS MOMENTS WHEN HE KNOWS    he   is   intellectually   capable   .    he  never    had    problems   excelling   in  school   ,    if   he    so   desired  .    instead  ,   he   sought   after    average   effort    for   average   results   .    he’s   smart   ,    undoubtedly   so  .    but   he   is   also   someone    who   needs    to    be    constantly    stimulated   by   whatever   his  attention    is    drawn    to  .   this   is   why    he   spent   much   of   his   time    at   school   in   the   library  ,    instead   of   spending   time    with   classmates   or   making    friends   or   talking  to   girls  ;   none    of    that    interested   him   in    the   very    least   .    so   he   read   and   absorbed    copious    amounts   of  knowledge   and    information   ,   some    of   it   aiding    his   early   demise   .     he   doesn’t    see    himself    as   being   “educated”    at   all  ,    though    he   is    well   read   and   was    capable    of    much    more    than    he    managed   to     accomplished    in   life   .   he    died   at    seventeen  ,   during   his   senior    year   of   high   school    .    in   his    mind  ,   this    makes   him    a   drop-out   .    and    in   retrospect   ,    something    he  contemplated   in    doing   when   the   dark    fantasies   of    killing   his    classmates    came    to    be   too  much   .   Tate  ,    occasionally  ,    has    moments    of   arrogance   when   thinks    of    himself   highly    and    in   askew    proportion    to    how    he    really   is  .   like   with   any   other    psychopath  ,   this   comes   from    having   narcissistic    tendencies   and  an   irrationally   inflated    ego   ,   despite     the   usual    cold  ,    objective    ,   realistic    view   of   himself  .    though   he  knows    he’s     not    the   brightest    ��bulb   in    the   shed   (  if   you   will  )   ,    there   are   moments    when   nothing    will    convince    him    otherwise .

003. DURING LIFE, TATE’S GREATEST DISILLUSION    was    the  way    society    worked  .    both  in    little   things    and  the   larger   picture  .    this   started   at   home  ,     with   his   mother   .    the   boy    started   off     well-mannered   ,    polite   ,    and   far   much   “mature”   for  his   age   .    he   did   not    keep   a   messy   room    nor    did   he   misbehave   for    the   sake    of    doing  so  .   despite  this   ,   he    was  ,  by   all  means    strange   and    intense   .   unbeknownst   to   himself  ,    he   repelled    kind    gestures   from   his   mother   .     a   reaction   to   her   obvious    dotting   and   overzealous   sheltering   of    the   boy   ,    in    contrast   to    the   mistreatment    his   siblings   had     either   via    psychological  means   ,    neglect    or   simply   by   physical    abuse   (  keeping   a   boy  with   special  needs   and   disabilities   ,   hidden   and   chained   in   a  room   is    hardly   good   parenting  )   .   he   then   began   to    act    out   against   his   mother   .   in   turn   ,    the   woman   kept   her    position   of   correctness   and     virtue   ,   “high   and   mighty”   .   from   his    perspective   ,    he     was   able   to  see    through   this   well-kept    persona    she  projected    to    the   world    around   them   ,   including    his   siblings  ;   addie  ,    his   sister ,   who   always  loved   and   adored    Constance    despite  the   way   she’d    put   her    down   with  small   comments  .   whether   this    was   intentional    or   not   ,    the   boy    saw    no   difference  .   when   Larry   and   other   men   showed   interest   in    the    woman   ,    Tate   was   nothing   but  appalled   .   how   could   he  ( Larry )    not   see   the   truth   of   her ?    it   was    so   obvious .    this   also    happened   in    school   .    the   boy   was    never    able    to   care   for   the    things   his    classmates    did  ;     socializing  ,    making   friends   ,    ignoring   school    and   simply    use   their    attendance    to   hang    out   with    others  .     their   behavior   sometimes   repelled   him  .   but   he    kept    quiet   ,    to    himself   ,   away  from   them    and   their   little   in-school   society  he  couldn’t    see   himself   being    a    part  of   ( unable   to   connect  ,   isolated  ,   this   had   little    to  do    with    his   classmates   but   rather   something   in    the   boy’s    psyche  –  unbeknownst    to  him  )  .   he   saw    their   interactions  ,   friendships  and    love   interests  as   meaningless   and    false  .    his   mind    could   never   understood    how   it   was    people    connected   ,   so  effortlessly  ,   with   one   another  ,  as   they  so   claimed   ,    and   still   could   be  so   brutally    ruthless   with   each  other  .  the   idea   of   this   only    magnified    itself    with    the   events   of   the   era  ;   brutal   attacks   on   innocent   people   by   supposedly   well-doing   citizens  ,    mass    riots   standing   up    to   acts   of    injustice   .    then   ,    his    brother    is    murdered   by   Larry   ,    as   per     Constance’s   wishes   and   instructions   .   the   final   straw  .    how   could    she  ,   who   claimed   to   love   her    children   ,   have   him    do  this  ?    nowadays  ,     Tate’s    disillusions     are    more    to  take    note   of   ;     his    failure   with   Violet   ,    his   own   premature   death   ( to   an    extent  ,    he   regrets    it ,   though   selfishly   so )   ,   to   name    a   few  .

004. DURING LIFE, AS AFOREMENTIONED, TATE    was    highly   disinterested   in   forming   any    type   of   relationships  ;    acquaintances  ,   friendships  ,   romantic    relationships  ,    none    of    them    seemed    important    enough  to   make   an   effort   and    construct   them  .    for    a  kid   unable    to    connect   to   another  human    being  on  an   emotional    level   ,   relationships   and    human   connections    seemed    rather   unimportant   and   disposable  .    he   didn’t   need    people   in   his   life   to    go   through   his  days   ,    he’d    never   needed   them   before   and   therefore    he   assumed   he   would   never  come    to   need   them  .    this  ,    of   course  ,    brought    moments    of   unbearable    isolation   and   loneliness  .   something    he   took   with     frustration   (  even   rage  )   rather   than   sadness   .   when   it   came   to  girls  ,   or   being   attracted   to    others   ,   it   was   merely   superficial   ;   not   in   terms   of   visual   attraction   but   in  lacking   depth  .   posthumously  ,   after  he   meets   Violet  ,   this   changes  .   for   the   first   time   in   his  “life”   ( or   afterlife )    he  saw    the   need   to  be   liked    by   another  .   he  was   instantly  captivated   by   the   girl  and   did    everything  he    could   to    become   close   to   her  .   it   was  a  whole   new    experience   to   him  ,   a  wakening  .    things    he    never   thought  he   could    feel   ,   a  level    of    excitement   and   childish  joy   to  be    in   her    company  .   to  be   equally    wanted    by    her   .   yes  ,    Violet   was  his   first  “love”   .    at   least   ,     in   the   way   he  is   able   to   experience    love  .    psychopaths  ,    by    their   own   nature  ,    aren’t   capable   to   experience   this   connection  in    the   way    most   people   can  .    infatuation   ,   lust   ,   obsession  .   and  after   their   relationship   “failed”  ( via  monstrous  acts   committed  by  him )   ,   he’s   no   longer  sure   love    is    real  .   when  it   comes   to   sex  ,    however  ,   he’s   always   been   disturbingly   blase  .    in  life  ,   as   a  child  ,   he’d    been   highly   aware   of   sex  .  this    to   an  uncomfortable   and inappropriate  level   .    during   his  young  adulthood  ,   he   experienced    a  rather   “asexual  phase”   .    though    he  experienced   physical   needs   ,   like   any   other   human   being  ,   he  didn’t   seek   out   sex   with   others  .   sex   was   nothing    but   a    human  function  ;   much   like   eating  ,  sleeping   or  breathing  .    it   was  something    humans   did  ,   with   the   sole  difference   that   one  could    experience   physical   pleasure   through   it  .   something   he   could   appreciate  .  by   no means   did   his   disinterest  kept   him  from  acting   on   his   impulses  .    but    his   sexual  experiences   mean  absolutely   nothing  .  it   was   sex   for   the    sake   of   sex  .   (  this   changes   when   it   comes   to  Violet  ,   however  ,     due  to   his   “feelings”   towards    her  .   though   sex   is  still   merely   a   physical  act  ,   he   knows  it   must   have    a  new   depth   when   it   is   between   two   people   who  love  each   other  .   whether   he   experiences  anything   differently  simply   because   of  his  feelings    toward   Violet  ,    it’s   highly   doubtful  )  .

005. TATE’S FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AND OVERALL    corporal   displays    are   incredibly   animated   .   this    is  usually    perceived   as   “quirky”   ,    charming   even  .   he   is  lively  .   but  know   that   ,   sometimes  ,   a   lot   of   his   gestures   and   body   language  is   controlled   .   he   transmits    what    he   wants  to   say   .   he   is   careful    and    secretive   .    this   control  ,   however  ,   has    lessened   with   time   .    as   a child  he  was   far   more   uptight  ,    discreet  ,   and    much   less   expressive   ,   unless   he  purposely   tried   otherwise  .   as  a    teenager  ,   during   life  ,    he’d    occasionally    allow   himself   to   soften   his   demeanor  .   slowly   learning   to   express   other    things   rather  than  just   discontent   or    anger  .   often    displaying   just   enough   to   remain   unnoticed  .   without    much   calculation  ,   his   eyes   tell   much   more   than   he   would  like  .   his   face  as   a  whole   is    well   versed   in   communicating   whatever    he   needs   it  to  .   unfortunately  ,   in   moments   of   stress   or  high   frustration   ,    he   can  become   much   less   contained  .   verbally   and  physically    explosive  .   his   gestures    betray   him    with   ease  .    and    like   with   most    people   who    experience   a   low   levels   of   empathy  ,   it’s   difficult   for   Tate   to   express   sympathy   if  it’s   not   rehearsed   (  feeling  bad   for  Ben   after   Vivien   dies   during   childbirth ?  not   his   best   performance )  .   because  of   this  ,   mournful   words   may   sound   mechanical   sometimes  .  empty  .   this  is   not   without   a  reason  .   whatever  Tate  doesn’t    experience   himself  ,   he   can   portray   it   because  he  is    observant   and   knows   what   it   looks   like   in   other   people   .   this   is  not    abnormal   to   him   ,   this   is   all  he   knows  .   there   are   certain   things   he   does   when   absentminded  or  under   stress  ;   biting   his   nails   ,   pacing   ,   fidgeting   fingers   .   by   “default”   ,    his    demeanor   is    relaxed   and    carefree   .   much   like   his  conscience  .

meme  /    character solidifying HERE !

[notokj]

my coming out story (i guess)

Warning - This is probably going to be long and boring, but it’s my truth. And I guess I should start off with a disclaimer.

I am not a lesbian. I am bisexual.

My name is KJ, I’m currently 18 years old and I live a relatively happy lifestyle. From a very young age, I’d been attracted to boys. Specifically (but not exclusively) Robert Downey Jr., Nick Jonas, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Brenden Urie, and various others. I always thought girls were pretty, but I never let myself think anything further. In the early 2000s, sure, being ‘out’ was slowly becoming normal, but I was a kid and nobody my age was talking about it... so why should I? I had a mom and dad, and so did my friends, I didn’t even consider two moms or two dads or anything in between. I was completely in the dark. But for hours, I would obsess over Miley Cyrus (or Hannah Montana) not just as a TV celebrity, but as somebody I found attractive. I never felt scared to admit this out loud, simply because I believed that I was just being stupid or irrational. I let myself continue to fit in the way I did.

One of the earliest memories I remember about me trying to shut down my feelings was about in the third grade. There was an exchange student from the middle east who was just learning English, and for whatever reason they chose me to help her understand that seasons. You know, fall, winter, spring, summer, it was fine. We were having fun like most little kids do, even with the language barrier. She was having issues understanding what the different words meant, and I was having issues explaining it to her because I couldn’t communicate in a way that she would understand. Giving up on the seasons, she took notice to my disney princess lunchbox. I told her my favorite princess was Ariel, and I’m not sure if I misspoke or she misunderstood but she stated that she “wanted to kiss a princess”. Now, I cannot confirm if that was her true feeling at the time or if she was unable to translate correctly what she said, but I was shocked to hear her say it. I didn’t comment on it, I didn’t make her uncomfortable, I simply moved on and pointed out all of the princesses on my bag. After school that day, I was hanging out with a family friend that was a couple years older than me. Being confused and trusting this friend, I told them what the exchange student said. My friend proceeded to tell me that I was lying, that a girl would never say that, and I laughed it off and agreed with her and told her the girl was probably just crazy. I quickly regretted my words, but kept all my opinions to myself. I didn’t want to seem weird or out of it.

Fast forward to the seventh grade, I had just transferred to a new middle school and was enjoying my time meeting new friends. At this time, it was super cool to girls if a guy was gay, but lesbians were unheard of. In my friend group, there was this one girl, let’s call her Brooke. Brooke was broken up with her asshole ex-boyfriend when we met, and shortly after she admitted to me that she had feelings for another girl. Of course, knowing somebody who had positive thoughts about girls liking girls, I fully supported her. I even helped her to portray her feelings. During this time, I hadn’t outed myself, but I was able to confirm that I did like girls... all because Brooke did it first. Somebody I trusted was brave enough, even though nearly half of her family was homophobic, she was able to say out loud that she liked somebody of the same sex. I respected her for that. We became best friends through that experience. It was special to me, and in eight grade I admitted to my entire group of friends that I liked girls and boys, They all supported me but I hadn’t yet been out to my family.

Two weeks before high school, Brooke had a birthday party. I went, of course, and at a point in the night, a kissing game was played... and, well, I lost my first kiss to Brooke. Do I regret it? No. Was it kinda cringy and gross? Yes, as most fourteen year old kisses were. I immediately knew everything I was feeling was real, and all I wanted to do was give Brooke a chance. I had known for a while that Brooke had feelings for me, and I was starting to have feelings for her. During her party, she claimed that on the first day of high school, she would get down on one knee and ask me out in front of everyone. That was said as a joke, but slick little KJ took advantage of it. Right before I left the party, I whispered into her ear “Why wait until school starts, when I’m saying yes right now?”, THEN I RAN OUT! I ran out like a little pussy but it’s okay! She texted me later that night and asked if I was kidding. I said no. Feelings from both sides were admitted and we confirmed that we were now girlfriend and girlfriend.

Three months later, me and Brooke are still together. Since we started High School as a couple, it was really easy to transition into the culture of our school. We didn’t have to come out to our classmates, because everyone had already assumed we were out. It was okay! Sure, there were “Fag”s and “Dyke”s thrown around, constant mocking and teasing, but we were strong. We didn’t let it get to us and we stuck together. I was at the point where I realized I was falling in love with this girl. I decided to tell my mom. At this point in time, my parents had recently divorced and weren’t living together anymore. I primarily lived with my mom, and I wanted to open up to her about this part of my life. So, I did. She was upset that I hid it from her for three months, but she was happy for me and also confessed that she too was/is bisexual! I’ve never felt so much comfort and security in my life.

But wait, this isn’t a cute happy coming out story that will end up on facebook.

The next hurdle was telling my dad. He’s always been a bit old school and traditional, and both my mom and I KNEW he would not be happy about it. He’d never really liked my friend group, specifically Brooke, and I just knew that being bisexual was not going to be a good thing. Also, knowing my dad, because I was dating a girl, I’d have to come out to him as a lesbian. He was the kind of old school that didn’t believe you could like both. Whatever, I just wanted to tell him. For some reason, this really stressed me out because I wanted nothing more than to be supported by my dad. I had gotten to such a low point, and mixed with high anxiety and depression, I made the mistake of cutting myself (take note it was the first and last time. I’m proudly four years clean). I’d worn a heavy red sweater the day after to hide it, and stupid me wrote my girlfriend a note about what I did because I wanted to be honest. The note got dropped somewhere, and I was reported to the office. The counselor checked my arm, and I swore it was just marks from falling into a bush. I caved, though, called my mom and told her what I did. My mom picked me up from school, and took my home. She stood out on the porch and told my dad what I did and how I did it. He was so angry, he left right away... After that, everyone acted like nothing happened. Nobody asked about me, my feelings, or Brooke. It was uncomfortably normal.

Shortly after, it was my fifteenth birthday. Being a latina, this was a big deal. I had a quinceanera! It was beautiful, Phantom of the Opera themed. I had fifteen roses, and I handed each one to an important person in my life and also gave them a speech. One of those roses went to my girlfriend, of course. But I was very courteous of my dad, and kept the speech platonic. As the night went on, my dad lingered and I had just wanted to apologize to Brooke for not spending much time with her. so I pulled her into the bathroom and we talked. She was okay so we both exited but my dad caught us as I was leaving. He screamed at me in front of everyone and made me cry, all for being with Brooke alone. He got so angry, he left and went drinking. I was miserable.

We talked after that. I told him I liked girls and boys. He told me he felt as if I was pressuring myself into some new societal norm, and that he specifically did not like Brooke. I was hurt, but I knew it would heal with time. And you know what? It did.

Three years later, Brooke left me for reasons not worth putting into a story like this. I was crushed. She was my first love, but I knew it was not meant to be. My dad and I were able to talk without her weight on my shoulders, and he had changed his mindset after years of watching me grow. He’ll never be the dad that’s going to gawk at girls with me, he wasn’t raised that way and I respect that. But he’ll never be the dad that puts me down if I do end up with a woman. I’m proud to say my dad is fully supportive of me, as long as I’m happy and safe. So many people are quick to judge him on the first half of this story, but family to recognize how far he’s come in loving me for me. I trust him with anything now. And having listened to why he didn’t like Brooke, made me realize that his previous anger was not completely directed at my newfound sexuality. He didn’t like how I was treated, not the gender of who I was with. He changed, for my happiness. And he is one of my biggest supporters now.

After Brooke, I had two other partners, both boys. I was the talk of my school. People would say that Brooke was just a phase, and that I faked being gay, and that I was just some phony. Both of those relationships didn’t last, and it was just six months ago that I decided I wouldn’t date until college because I was so put off by all the rude comments. Nobody wanted to believe that I was bisexual. They all wanted to believe that I was straight, or just a weird lesbian. It hurt, all the biphobia. 

A month ago, let’s just simplify things and say I started dating my current boyfriend, who I’mma just call 2K here (cause thats his life smh). I am in love with 2K, and I was worried that being bisexual would be a bad thing for him but,... he does not care. He’s loyal, trustworthy, and completely supportive of the fact that while yes- we are in a straight relationship, I am still bisexual. It doesn’t bother him, and I’m lucky enough to have some wonderful friends who are also very supportive! I’m at such a good place in my life right now. 2K is on great terms with my family, I trust him more than anyone, and it’s so comforting to know that the person I love isn’t telling me that Brooke was just a phase. Christ, I was with the girl for three years. That would be a long as phase!

To this day, I still experience extreme biphobia. But you know what? I’m okay. My boyfriend, family, friends, all support me and know who I am. I am not a lesbian. I am not straight. I’m proudly bisexual! And I’m starting college in a few short months. That’s not relevant, but I’m excited. I went through highs and lows to get to this solid point, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

So to all of my bi friends... You are HERE. Be proud and be loud. You are not confused, and nobody has the right to make you choose who or what to love!

[kitanoko]

Just Between Us ~ 

Summary: Yaoyorozu Momo, now a well-established heroine, finally finds her childhood friend, Todoroki Shouto, who now goes by the name ‘Kuroroki’. 

Rated: T 

Words: 4k 

Genre: todomomo angst + todoroki villain AU

A secret santa gift for @selephi !!  Check out Selephi’s Villain Todoroki profile first! 

               When Yaoyorozu was young, she didn’t understand what it meant to have no love from her parents.

               Everything, generally speaking, came so easy for her. She was fortunate, talented, and if her parents believed in feng shui, then the alignment of the furniture in her house must have powered her luck as well.

On Sundays, Yaoyorozu and her parents would carry stacks and stacks of money in a 29 inch luggage, surrounded by their trusted bodyguards, to the bank. Of course, in one of their many limousines. When she felt bored, her mother would coo her in the vehicle, telling stories of Greek gods and goddesses, stories from the Grimm Brothers and also stories of how she met Yaoyorozu’s father, something that little Momo always found very intriguing. She was always delighted, and if she was hungry, she would tell her parents and in a snap of a finger, they’d get all sorts of dainty pastries ready for her by the time they got home.

Yaoyorozu never stopped attending these family errands until middle school hit and chemical formulas and recipes for god-knows-what were the only things filling her once naïve mind.

                Nothing was impossible. Most things were within grasp.

               But something else she recalled quite vividly from her lavish childhood was a boy her age dancing with her at one of her family’s ultra-posh galas. A boy who had beautiful, sleek, white and red hair, and eyes that could read her soul through the glassiness of her dark, onyx irises. She learned the hard way that all good things come with a price, and his was a dark angry patch of red that encompassed his fierce blue eye.

               Yaoyorozu knew his father was one of the top ten heroes; a family so well-known that it became a household name.

               “Todoroki.” She heard her mother say, gesturing with a nod of her head at the other side of the banquet.

The young girl played with a piece of hair that fell out of place from her chignon before her mother fixes it for her and began to feel curious about the giant man whose grip on his youngest son looked way too rigid. Yaoyorozu’s gentle eyes rested on the subtle smile that etched on that boy’s face— him looking uncomfortable, fingers twiddling a piece of thread that hung low on the hem of his nicely pressed dress shirt.

She tested that name, rolling it off the tip of her tongue a few more times, every syllable feeling as though it’d tangle her tongue. But who was she to comment on that; after all, her own family name sounded even more convoluted.

               The boy, apparently a prodigy, seemed to have caught on her hawk-like gaze and stared back. Yaoyorozu gasped, mouth breathing in a little of the cold fluid air and wondered why she couldn’t avert her focus.

               The night went on smoothly—she doing her own thing while he did his, until the clock struck 11.

Yaoyorozu was running around searching for her parents,  the hour hand ticking to its place when she came across a scene that scarred her since.

She wouldn’t doubt that it scarred him as well.

               “How many times did I tell you to talk to them with more enthusiasm?! YOU have the obligation to network and learn your duties NOW before you get to UA. Your siblings are nothing like you…I’m entrusting everything to you, Shouto!”

               She watched from afar, hidden by wisps of a waxy house plant, as the boy that captured her attention rooted in place with an expression so dark that one would be surprised that he came from a heroic family.

               Her fingers daintily moved a piece of leaf and continued to eavesdrop, her mother’s voice as her conscience, ringing at the back of her mind telling her to tiptoe out of there.

               “I don’t want to,” The boy seethed.

               “What did you say?!”

               “I hate you and all heroes was what I said!”

               The fumes and flames that flickered on the man’s head was enough to ignite the building when his youngest son’s awful words seeped into his ear. The man stood tall, fists unclenching as he whipped his palm across the younger boy’s face. The loud slap echoed across the hall and vibrated into Yaoyorozu’s heart.

               She was mortified, feeling nothing but dread. For a second, she felt the slap on her own skin.

               The rest of the otherwise pleasant night was quite hard to bear.

Yaoyorozu could see from outskirts of the crowd that the boy was still alone. She felt helpless. She knew she couldn’t tell anyone, not even her parents, and if she risked that then she’d risk the safety of that boy whom she so wanted to befriend.

               The chance came when it was the farewell dance of the night. An event that always finalized her parent’s galas. Most of the time, Yaoyorozu would just sit somewhere and watch, but tonight she extended a caring hand to the boy and asked if she could take him for a spin. Which unfortunately came out quite awkward and silly for someone who only danced during her weekly Ballet lessons.

               Let me make it up to you, she heard herself say under her breath, but the boy didn’t catch it.

               As per her calculations, the boy didn’t take her hand at first. He instead opted to study her, skeptical if she was doing it for show or not, because let’s face it, who from a wealthy family was actually genuine?

After a short 3 second contest of stares, Yaoyorozu was already blushing like mad at his antics.

Initiating contact was definitely not her forte.

Her mother always reminded her to help people in need though, and so she’d let this time slide.

               “Please,” she grabbed the skirt of her maroon dress and repeated, “just one dance.”

               Yaoyorozu found herself concentrating on the slight tinge of sour red on the boy’s jaw from his father’s assault earlier, and she bit her lip, hoping he understood that she knew what happened between him and his alleged loving father.

               Nevertheless, in the end the boy never found out why she was so adamant on accompanying him. With a sigh, he took her hand anyway.

               Anything to get away from Todoroki Enji.

               Afterwards, they became pen pals— a secret locked between him and her; when Enji was at work, the younger boy would sneak out and meet young Yaoyorozu at the park near her house. Both being 13 at the time, a false sense of freedom dawned and the girl felt something unfamiliar stir inside her every time they met. This went on for months until one day, the boy granted with the powers of ice and fire stopped coming to see her and to say that she hadn’t stopped thinking about why he left her alone at the park those afternoons would be a lie. She knew she had no other way of contacting him without risking being found out.

                It soon became a habit: before she falls asleep, before she hears the creak of her parent’s bedroom door, Yaoyorozu would think about the idea of ‘star-crossed lovers’ and prayed that whatever happened to their friendship hadn’t dwindle away completely.

That year, on Christmas morning, Yaoyorozu sat between her mother and father’s embrace. Hands trembling, her father read the front page of the newspaper about Endeavor’s youngest son’s disappearance.

~~

               “OH MY GOD, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU,” Jirou shouted, eyebrows scrunched in agony as her husband hid his face in his hands, “YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU DROPPED OUR WEDDING RING?”

               Her spouse pursed his lips, nervous sweat on his cheeks as he ran a hand to brush his bangs away.

               Kaminari was so dead. Probably the wrong time to die since they were at Iida’s Christmas gathering.

               “Kyouka, I’ve got this, don’t worry!” The blond emphasized, afraid to even dare tilt his head up at his wife who was now so outraged that the mojito in her hand was swaying madly from her harsh movements.

               Yaoyorozu quickly grabbed her best friend’s drink from the rim and pulled it out of her death grip, immediately setting it down somewhere far away before it spills all over the rug.

               “I’m sure it’s somewhere in this vicinity,” Yaoyorozu suggested, giving the living room a quick scan and moving her palms up and down in attempt to calm the couple sitting directly beside her, “I’m sure it’ll show up. Lost things usually do.”

Yaoyorozu knew she was thinking of excuses; she really couldn’t focus on anything but the Christmas lights and poinsettias that was at every corner of the room, not to mention the amount of old classmates that were mingling in this place; finding a ring here was going to be harder than baking her mother the batch of pumpkin spice cookies last night.

               But she digressed.

               “Bakugou and Kirishima are helping me look outside right now –“

               “THEN GO AND SEARCH TOO!”

               “Y-YES MAAM!”

               And with that, Kaminari booked it outside as fast as his legs could carry him. Jirou slumped back down onto the plush couch, index fingers massaging her temples in hopes to suppress her headache to no avail.

               Iida and Hatsume’s screams of victory from beer pong on the other side of the room, ten decibels too high, was not helping either.

               Yaoyorozu watched as her friend groaned again.

               “I married a total idiot Yaomomo.”

               Kaminari and Jirou had been married for a while now, engaged a few years after their graduation from UA, both now working hard climbing the hero ranking ladder.

               “Well I think its endearing that both of you value your keepsakes so much. Not that I’d understand,” Yaoyorozu said.

               “You are married to your work instead of a real human being after all,” Jirou answered back, words sinking a little too deep. The former had nothing else to say except to respond with a mere upwards tug of her lips.

               As if on cue, Yaoyorozu’s phone vibrated on the edge of the coffee table, a slight clinking sound elicited from the crystal vase beside it. The creation heroine gave it a click and stared at the screen.

               ‘another victim, 25, kobayashi yoru, severe burns, Minoru and Fir intersection’

               No. Not again.

               “I’ve got—“

               “to go?” Jirou finished the sentence for her, obviously worried, “Yaomomo, you’ve been working way too much lately. Your other sidekicks can handle fine without you.”

               Yaoyorozu gulped down her drink, though the inside of her mouth was increasingly dry with anticipation. Her phone slipped back into her pant pockets without thought as she put down the glass a little too roughly.

               Finally, another lead. To him. And this time it was right at her fingertips.

               “This is important, and I know I say this every time but I’m so close.”

               “Hasn’t it always been that way? The same case? For the past few years?”

               Jirou’s fingers tapped agitatedly at her stocking-covered knee as she crossed her legs, ears quirking up at Yaoyorozu’s sigh as she got up from her seat. She knew her stubborn friend wasn’t going to listen. All she could do, Jirou guessed, was to support her however she could.

               “If it’s that important, Yaomomo, then I’ll let Iida know.”

               Yaoyorozu smiled as she slipped her arm through her coat sleeve.

“Thanks, I knew I could always count on you.”

~~

               From the direction of the incoming ambulances and the police tape that comprised the crime scene, Yaoyorozu knew that she had to act quickly.

               The culprit was close; he was fast but had always had a habit of staying nearby.

               She wouldn’t call it a Christmas miracle, but to have him carry out his kill near Iida’s party? It was almost like Santa listened to her plea.

               Her sidekicks left her yet another text to update her on the victim’s condition. The victim was apparently gifted with third degree burns and a perforated lung.

Sounded like his work alright.

Just thinking about his alias sent a ping down to the pit of her stomach.

Kuroroki. An infamous murderer who was killing a little too close to home had been on her radar for too long. Yaoyorozu had a dedicated cabinet to all the cases she had dealt with involving him and she wracked her brain contemplating whether or not she’d ever be able to crack these cases. Tonight, however, would be when she’d break through the wall that had always been blocking her path.

               Yaoyorozu shivered as her teeth chattered from the cold though not enough to stop her from leaping from one alley to the next, dodging civilians as she felt her blood run in pure adrenaline. She didn’t know what to say if he were to be right in front of her but she didn’t care.

               6 years she’s been hoping to find him. 6 damn years.

               The following alley was enclosed with wandering policemen and she had no doubt that some were walking around to pretend like they were doing their job. She wanted to scoff.

               “Sorry, miss, you can’t go through this way,” an officer said sternly, voice gruff, as she was about to step foot into the scene, “you’d better turn around, we’re still investigating here.”

               “I’m a licensed heroine,” Yaoyorozu spat, wanting to roll her eyes as she fished out her badge, “The name’s Creati. Licensed since 2019.”

               The man crossed his arms and casted an annoyed grunt at her before scanning the badge in her grasp. Yaoyorozu figured he must be new here if he had never heard of her name. Either that or he didn’t recognize her because of her formal attire and curled hair.

               While he was busy reading at a snail’s pace, Yaoyorozu leaned forward and peeked behind him, eyes rounding and nose scrunching at the foul smell that began to waft behind the officer.

               Blood stained the brick walls, and there were lots of it.

               “Alright, fine, I’ll let you through,” the man finally said, words still laced with annoyance, and Yaoyorozu thanked him with a slight nod of her head, the taste of blood erupting in her mouth as the smell once again perturbed her.

               The heroine tread swiftly past him, her head turned left and right, the ridges in her throat bobbing from disgust at the scene. She should be used to this by now given the nature of her work but something about knowing that it’s him that did this sent a choking chill down to every bone in her body.

               For a second, at the corner of her eye, a shadow fleeted off at the furthest most passageway that connected to the back street.

               Yaoyorozu craned her neck, knees still slightly bent from studying the blood splatters on the concrete above her shadow and she felt her fingers go numb. Did she imagine it? Her hands slid down to her phone and hesitated. Should she contact her sidekicks or better yet, just yell at the policemen around her to follow her in or …?

               Yaoyorozu didn’t know what the million thoughts in her head were but she ran and ran, the clicking of her heel echoing behind her. She lost her footing for a brief moment but she kept going and shifted to her left at the sharp turn, eyes never leaving the small road. Thoughts wheeling in her mind almost blurring her vision; when she confronts him, what should she say? Should she say anything at all? Yaoyorozu gave her head a shake in attempt to swivel her mind back to the right place.

She knew the route around here painstakingly well given it being near where her parent’s house used to be, and she had already strategized several ways that this could go.

               There was a 40% chance that whoever the shadow belonged to would hit a dead end and Yaoyorozu could already see the figure move even more frantically now.

She bit her lower lip; if only she had time. Time was all she needed to create something, anything, to help her mobility right now.

               A splash from the puddle a few metres in front of her route knocked her senses back and she halted, legs firm as she planted herself in place. She extended her arm as the other pulled her sleeve up, a pole forging out of her skin in an instant. A giant vine-covered wall stood between the figure and the other side of the road.

               The chase was over.

              “Show yourself, you have nowhere else to run,” Yaoyorozu cried out, eyes piercing at the dark figure in front of her. She gulped as the person turned around, shifting under the dim street lights, his features gradually revealing. Yaoyorozu felt the grip around her weapon tighten, hands unsteady.

               Black and red hair, grey and blue eyes, the dark patch on his face.

Even if he tried to change his appearance, she could recognize him anywhere.

Yaoyorozu’s mouth was agape, panicking to form a coherent sentence, but he beat her to it.

“Spare me your words, Yaoyorozu,” Todoroki simply said, head downwards. His voice was husky, reverberating into the brisk, frosty wind.

Even in that angle, she could see how much he had grown; in another situation, perhaps she’d be charmed by him.

She dropped her arms to her side, forgetting that she had a weapon for a reason. It was nostalgic to meet him again albeit in this undesirable environment.

Todoroki took another step forward. “Why are you always chasing me.” His words were vile, sounding threatening to her ears, but she didn’t care.

               “It hurts me to think,” she began, trying to change the subject, her heart thumping hard against her ribcage, “what if I had reached out to you earlier? Then maybe you wouldn’t have become a criminal. Like you are now.”

               He didn’t want to listen yet he didn’t move, his eyes blazing with raw anger, staring straight at her as if he was his prey. Part of her wishes it’s because he still cared, but the energy emitting from him was so menacing that even Yaoyorozu hitched a breath and let the pole in her hand drop.

               It was now or never.

               “I know you’re conflicted.”

               “You don’t know who I am anymore. Whoever you think I was, well, he’s long gone. Stop following me or you’ll regret.”

               Yaoyorozu’s hands balled into fists at his awful sounding words.

               “Todoroki Shouto, come back. Please. I can help you.”

He shuddered at her calling him so intimately. The man scowled at her as if his real name was poison. Was it crazy to say that that was the reaction she was hoping for?

               “Don’t fucking say that word. That name.”

               Yaoyorozu was only a stride away from him but it was still like he was an ocean away. He was also a head taller than her, she recognized, though it became so much more than a mere measurement.

               She blinked once. Twice.

               “I know, with your skills, you could easily climb these walls and leave, yet you aren’t.”

               Was she crazy to ignore his pure killing intent and instead, to blab on? To someone who had no remorse, no sense of humanity, no warmth?

               He breathed harder.

“And I could burn you here in a second.”

               “You won’t. I know. Because you saved me two years ago.”

               Todoroki froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.“

               Yaoyorozu’s mind cycled through to the fire that night when she followed him. She had gotten intel that Todoroki had once again fried someone to a crisp in an office building in downtown. If that wasn’t bad enough, his finishing touch was to bomb the building by cutting off the gas pipes. When she entered, she was immediately blown back at the explosion, the smell of the leak muffling her senses, but she survived. Policemen told her when she woke up on that hard, stiff hospital bed that she was far away from the building when they had found her with minor injuries. They theorized that she got dragged away by someone to safety.

               She didn’t tell anyone and her memory may be hazy but for the short moment between her eyes flickering and completely shutting to unconsciousness after being tossed back from the explosion like a ragdoll, she saw Todoroki’s face, and felt his grip around her, carrying her out.

               Yaoyorozu had thought she imagined it, but taking a closer inspection of him now, she was certain it was him.

               “And all those victims that you target, every single one of them are criminals that are on the wanted list. You had never laid a hand on an innocent person. Kobayashi Yoru, the one from tonight, he evaded capture last month for human trafficking and distribution of illegal firearms, amongst ten other offenses.”

               “Shut up.“

               “Why don’t you also tell me why you still contact your sister and ask about your mother? You thought you were so smart using various phones so we couldn’t track you but I think you underestimated my abilities.”

               Todoroki’s mouth snapped shut, lips pursing into a thin nervous line. He was rendered utterly speechless by this girl whom he didn’t recall ever wanting to contact. Todoroki didn’t even want to reignite the flame they had when they were 13.

               The past was the past. He will rid of every speck of it if it meant for him to make a new identity for himself.

               Yaoyorozu swallowed hard, footsteps heavy, legs feeling like cotton with no sense of control as she slowly trudged to him, putting shaky hands on the side of his shoulders. He felt so real. He was real. The girl paused to study him, looking at him up and down, wondering if the wetness on her cheeks was from the rain.

It wasn’t raining.

               “I promise you, if you stop this, you’ll never feel alone again, I know many lawyers and—“

               “Kill whatever imagination you have of me returning to society like a normal human. I made this path and I’m not going to stop, until…until I kill that son of a bitch. Endeavor.”

               Her eyes opened wide and she could see his adam’s apple hitch and in a blink of an eye she was pulled deeper into the shadows, snug against the damp brick wall and Todoroki’s rigid body. Yaoyorozu opened her mouth curiously, until she heard a rustle of steps and a string of shadows pass their alley.

               Yaoyorozu didn’t dare focus anywhere except for the tense muscle on his neck; she couldn’t completely disregard their closeness either, reprimanding herself for having even a slight hope that her childhood friend would come to his senses. It could be silly and totally absurd, but Todoroki Shouto had run a soft finger down a curl of her hair.

The smell of iron and tonight’s murder still lingered on the surface of Todoroki’s clothes, however, and she felt strained.

“They’re gone,” she said as the last shadow passed them, his face twisting into a stern glare. He moved away.

Todoroki shot her a knowing look, as if to say that time was up. It had been awhile after all, to think that he’d even let her get this close was more than she had ever desired.

And in one last pathetic attempt, she let her feelings pour out.

“It’s been 6 years,” her words came out smooth, gradually rising in pitch, “6 years of me hunting you like some sad, disillusioned woman, not even doing this out of the duty of being a hero but because you were a friend.”

“Then continue to obsess over this fantasy of yours,” he snapped back, and she felt a twitch in her fingers. She could slap him, slap the demon or whatever that possessed him. Slap him until she was a pile of teary mess.

Yaoyorozu stood her ground, watching as Todoroki dug his fingers into the ridges of the fence beside them, but having no desire to pull him back down.

“If you follow me again, I will murder you, Yaoyorozu,” he added, “You let me live my life and I won’t bother yours.”

               “Don’t leave, Shouto! I’m—“

               “You can do so much better than me.”

               She backtracked for a few seconds, thinking how much his words pained her. The moonlight shone over her face as she bit her lip, all the pressure held in her body accumulating in that one spot in her chest.

               Without a moment’s hesitation, he leapt over and ran somewhere further into the dark, her cries not enough to turn him around.

Was that it? Was it over?

She crumpled over, knees buckling. All her energy zapped out of her as she held herself steady.

               Her mind was a mess, all these things she had forgotten to say. All these ‘could haves’ and ‘should haves’ but none taken to light.

               “Do you at least remember how we met?” she muttered to herself, voice thin.

               And in the end, she pushed herself back up, alone like she had been for the past decade, feeling the rough, uneven asphalt below her.

[edithwasthebeginning]

The Volante

Ruth and Professor Sachs had met the year before in her history class. She remembered him smiling at her during her first presentation. With her eyes cast downward, Ruth slowly made her way to the front of the lecture hall. She tugged at her modest white suit that felt a little too tight around her shoulders. Her heart was beating fast and her notes trembled in her hand. It wasn’t the presentation itself but the audience that scared her; they were a silent judging mass that seemed impossible to please.  

After class Ruth was organizing her notes when Professor Sachs walked up to her and, placing a hand on her shoulder, invited her to meet with him in his office. Ruth obligingly met with him that evening and sat in the uncomfortable chair in front of his desk. She noticed a gleam in his eye as he looked at her, taking in her blonde ringlets and a face that was pale like porcelain. The professor voiced his proposition: free elocution lessons from him after class every day. Ruth beamed. This is just what I need, she thought, this is how I can change myself. She saw the confidence in the professor when he spoke in front of the class. That’s what I need, Ruth thought.

They began meeting the following week and after their first meeting the professor offered to drive her home on the condition that she abide by his car rules—no food, no drinks, no dirty shoes, and no smoking in the car. She remembered how proud he was of the 1969 Aston Martin DB6 Volante, how important it was to him. She couldn’t help her but admire it herself, with its curved lines and shiny red exterior.

That first night he drove her home he walked her up to the front of her apartment building. As they walked he snuck his arm around her waist. He did it in a smooth, habitual way and she was so impressed with his subtlety that she forgot to protest. On the front steps he whispered her name and she turned around to face him. In the darkness he leaned down and kissed her. Ruth froze. Wouldn’t this get him fired?

“Ruth, it’s alright.”

After Professor Sachs rumbled away in the Volante Ruth closed the door gently and stood in the hallway of the dark apartment. She flicked on the light and went to the kitchen to turn on the stove. The pan hissed as she added some frozen vegetables. He had asked her to call him Johnathan. She smiled when she thought of how he had picked her out of the crowd, separating her from the rest and making her extraordinary. And he seemed like a good man, Ruth thought, even if he was a little older. But in her eyes his greying sideburns confirmed his respectability. More than this, there was something about his unfailing confidence and charisma that pulled her in. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t married. The onions browned in the pan.

The next night when they stood in the darkness she kissed him back. A small voice inside her pointed out that her mother wouldn’t approve of such an unconventional relationship with someone twice Ruth’s age. It was true that Ruth hadn’t expected to start seeing her teacher. In her mind she had pictured a respectable young man that she could bring home to her parents. But so far no boys had noticed her, and she was getting tired of waiting.

It was easy for Ruth to ignore that tug at her conscience when they were cruising in the Volante with the top down. They would drive just to drive along empty freeways and obscure roads in the nighttime. Her long blonde curls would dance in the wind until she scraped them back into a ponytail. Johnathan always drove a little too fast for Ruth, and the first time they went driving she told him this in a shout that was barely audible above the rushing wind and the music.

“Would you mind slowing down a bit, Johnathan?”

“No, darling, that’s the whole point! Don’t you want to feel the rush?” He laughed and turned up the music. Ruth awkwardly nodded at this and kept her discomfort to herself after that. The next time they went out Ruth attempted to peek her head out the window and feel the breeze. I can do this, Ruth thought, and she surrendered her fears to the wind. By the next week she was able to ride without wearing her seatbelt, just like Johnathan did. He looked at her with pride in his eyes when she did this. She always wished these invigorating cruises would never end, but inevitably they did, usually with them checking into a motel.

Johnathan enjoyed taking Ruth on dates too. He would drive her somewhere out of town to an upscale, dimly lit restaurant. Ruth had nicer clothes now, thanks to the professor, and he would suggest which outfit would be appropriate for each restaurant. It irked Ruth that all the outfits he bought were just a little too small, but she’d never said anything to him. He says I look beautiful in these clothes, she reasoned, and that’s what I want to be, so what’s the point in arguing about it? Still, Ruth pulled at her collar reflexively.

Whenever they went out Johnathan would insist on paying and never failed to make some comment about his inherited wealth in the process. Their reservations were always under a false name and when the hostess would call it out they would grin at each other like they had a secret. They would sit at a little table by the window, preferably with the Volante in view, talking and laughing a little too loud. Ruth was only 19 so Johnathan would buy a drink and give her a sip when the waiter wasn’t looking. Ruth always savored the dry malty flavor in her mouth; she thought it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

It was a Thursday night and Johnathan was taking Ruth to a steakhouse. He pulled the Volante smoothly into a spot and turned off the engine. He looked at Ruth affectionately and patted her on the knee. A couple months had passed since that first kiss. Ruth sat a little straighter in her seat now than she had on their first ride together. She was so absorbed examining her fingernails, with their freshly lacquered shine, that she didn’t notice Johnathan’s admiring gaze on her.

“Ruth,” he squeezed her knee, trying to get her attention. She finished inspect her pinky nail before looking up.

“Yes, Honey?” she returned his smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes. She could see some confusion in his face as he scrutinized her face. He seemed to be searching for what he wanted to say.

“Did you start that diet I recommended?”

Ruth’s smile fell just a fraction and she placed her hand over his.

“Oh I don’t know, shouldn’t we wait a little on that? Ask me again when it’s closer to the summer!” Johnathan’s brow wrinkled at this but his smile stayed plastered on. He kept his hand on her knee.

The next night Ruth sat primly in her cream-colored dressed and a brown belt hugging her middle which matched the leather of the Volante. Her hair was hanging loose and she had used a bit more make up than usual. Her eyeliner gave her cat eyes that contrasted with her dark eye shadow. Johnathan cowered at this new development, but still could not take his eyes away from her appearance. He awkwardly shifted around, not seeming to know where to place his hands.

“I thought you might want something to go with that dress.” He quickly reached into the back seat and pulled out an ivory colored jewelry box. He opened it for her and held up the gleaming diamond pendant. Ruth’s eyes beamed and her red lips curved into a small smile. She had been smiling less lately, but when he gave her presents her regular cheerfulness returned.

“Thank you, Johnathan! You know how I love these little presents.”

Ruth kept the jewelry in a small glass box that she locked with a key. Before each night out she would unlock the box and admire her treasures, imagining herself wearing them to class and shocking her classmates. She was someone important when she put them on, someone who didn’t care about things like school. Ruth began to spend less time in class and more time flying alongside Johnathan in the DB6 Volante, feeling free and defiant and looking her best. She asked him once if she could take the driver’s seat but he just laughed.

Soon Ruth had her own credit card; another gift from Johnathan. She reasoned with him that it would make everything a lot more convenient if she did her own personal shopping.

“Johnny, I know that you like to have a say when it comes to my wardrobe, but I think I might have the advantage when it comes to knowing women’s fashion. Just trust me,” she gave him her purest smile and he responded with a squeeze of her palm and a chagrined expression, which she pretended to ignore.

“I guess that sounds reasonable,” he smiled feebly in response. His eyes were panicking though, and Ruth was hasty to smooth over the situation.

“Well, don’t you want me to look my very best darling? I do it for you, you know.”

Johnathan agreed and relaxed his expression while Ruth eyed her new card.

The next morning they saw each other in class. Ruth was giving her second presentation and it was going very well; her phrasing was clear and she stood tall, facing the audience and maintaining eye contact throughout. She decided against the white suit—she had more of a comfortable look now in her dark rayon skirt and loose top. The audience doesn’t matter anymore, she thought, I’m all that matters.

After class Johnathan attempted to give her some pointers to remember for her next presentation. Their lessons had ended months before, with complete success, but Johnathan still felt the need to improve her elocutionary skills.

She cut him off, saying, “now’s really not the time John. And I see you speak everyday—would you like me to give you some criticism as well? Yes, I thought not.” Her heels clicked out the door, leaving Johnathan standing before an empty chair. He combed his hair back with his hand and stared at the ceiling as he breathed out a rush of air. Slowly, he returned to his desk and piled papers into his briefcase. He thought back to when he first met her; he missed that innocent, docile girl he used to drive home.

That night Johnathan let Ruth decide the restaurant. They sat at a table by the window and Ruth looked outside at the Volante. Their waters came and she sipped hers until she saw her reflection in the bottom of the glass.

Casting Johnathan a sidelong glance, she mentioned that he had missed her birthday.

“I thought you said it was in July!” Johnathan squirmed.

“Well, you heard me wrong I suppose. It’s today,” she gave him her most innocent expression in an attempt to emphasize his carelessness. The increasing guilt in his expression contributed to Ruth’s own amusement, although she hid it well from him. She fantasized about more elegantly wrapped gifts in her future, and more ways to manipulate Johnathan. The exhilaration of control was like a drug to Ruth, its novelty making it that much more addictive for her.

Johnathan was clenching his fists and glared down at the floor. After cementing his resolve, he raised his head and looked Ruth straight in the eye.

“Ruth it’s your own fault that you didn’t tell me sooner.” He speared some broccoli with his fork. There was a beat of silence. “And I meant to tell you earlier, but that new jacket looks ridiculous—I think maybe it was a mistake to let you shop by yourself. I’m coming with you next time.”

Ruth’s eyes flashed and she threw her glass on the floor. The glass shattered on the hardwood floor and an intense silence followed as heads turned toward their table.

Ruth stood up. Through gritted teeth, she spat, “I’ll dress how I like and I’ll speak how I like. You don’t control me.”

Johnathan, startled by her reaction, begged her to sit down. Fine, he said, that was fine. She could do what she wanted. Just don’t make a scene. The frenzied emotion in Ruth’s face disappeared and was quickly replaced by the appearance of complete tranquility. She demurely sat down again and wiped her mouth gingerly with her napkin. After that they conversed as if nothing had happened. Johnathan didn’t notice how tense Ruth still was, or how clipped all her words were. She was seething; she wanted to break something else, wanted to escape in the Volante all on her own and leave Johnathan behind.

They didn’t speak as they drove through the night, passing under the strobe of infinite streetlamps. Johnathan claimed it was too cold to put the top down so Ruth rolled down her window. He was about to protest against even that but decided against it, and they remained in silence. When he finally dropped her off at her apartment his forehead was beaded with sweat and his face was contorted. Out of real concern for his health Ruth asked him if he was alright, but he said he was fine so she went inside.

Professor Sachs didn’t show up for class the next morning. Around noon the school was notified that he had died of a heart attack the night before. After dropping Ruth off he had arrived home safely, but as he closed the door of the Volante he began to feel the pain in his chest. No one found him until the next morning.

Ruth found out about Johnathan through a friend who sat next to her in class. As she processed the information she started to feel queasy, but also felt an odd sense of relief. The two emotions didn’t fit; Ruth felt like her heart was being pulled in multiple directions at once. She quietly left the classroom and threw up in the bathroom. Afterwards she dutifully dabbed her face with a paper towel and reapplied her lipstick in the dingy mirror. Her reflection was a pale blur with yellow hair that reminded her of the old Ruth, the agreeable and selfless Ruth that existed before Johnathan. But that Ruth in the mirror wasn’t smiling—her face was blank and flat. She tried to remember if she was even a little bit happy before her self-transformation, but then she realized she didn’t even know if she was happy after the fact. Ruth turned away from her reflection and walked out of the bathroom, leaving the old Ruth behind in that dirty mirror.

Later, when Ruth saw his picture in the obituaries, she felt a swirl of guilt and sadness. She clenched the newspaper in her hand and tried to unravel own thoughts. He wasn’t a bad man, Ruth reflected, he just didn’t understand her. She felt cold with the thought, but his death made sense. She had needed him at one time, but now she had outgrown him. Still, tears came to her eyes when she saw his black and white picture in the paper. She penciled in the date of his funeral in her planner.

Ruth arrived at the funeral in an elegant black gown and dark sunglasses. She ignored the looks and whispers of the few family members present and kept her attention on the casket. She had debated whether to come to the funeral or not, but eventually came to the conclusion that she owed Johnathan at least that. He had given her a sense of freedom, she thought. After the ceremony she left immediately. Leaving the cemetery, she felt she had left something there with Johnathan, something that she could never get back. Ruth thought of everything Johnathan had ever done for her, from elocution lessons to expensive gifts. She had been nothing before Johnathan, she told herself. Ruth also reminded herself of all the horrible things he had done to her and the pressure he had put on her. She rode the bus back to her apartment.

Summer came quickly and soon Ruth’s apartment always had the windows open. Ruth was usually tutoring kids at the university, but it was a Saturday so she was off work and she sat on the apartment stairs under the hot sun eating a sandwich in a pair of jean shorts and a grey tank top. Her old jewelry had begun to accumulate a layer of dust up in her room where it sat, overflowing from its little glass box. She had also stopped piling on makeup after Johnathan died, although she didn’t think she could ever go back to no makeup at all. That just wasn’t her anymore.

A chubby postal worker trudged up the sidewalk. Ruth watched him as he slowly made his way to each apartment with his bulging sack of letters. When he finally made it to her he asked her what her name was. When she told him he lit up and reached a hand into the sack. She held the letter in her hands and wondered where it came from. Her heart beat faster when she looked at the return address; the letter was from the state attorney’s office. She brought the letter inside and gingerly set it on the counter. After pacing back and forth a few times she went to the counter and ripped open the letter. It was the Volante. It was hers.

Ruth was driving along the interstate with one hand on the steering wheel of the bright red vehicle. She had the top down and the windows down, and the sun was shining in while her hair rippled in the wind. Her red dress, matching the car’s exterior, moved in the same rhythm. Ruth smiled a lopsided smile as the wind hit her face and pressed hard on the gas pedal. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but the going was what was most important to her.

[electrodragonfly]

Chapter 1: Metathesiophobia

Title: The Effects of Special Relativity on Sublimation

Rating: T for language, violence, and suggestive comments

Pairing: Momo Yaoyorozu/Shouto Todoroki

Links: AO3 Coming soon | https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12469092/1/The-Effects-of-Special-Relativity-on-Sublimation

Summary: When the Todoroki and Yaoyorozu families arrange to marry their children off to strangers, the two students seek alternative solutions. Dealing with Endeavor, bratty basic white boys, teachers who assume the worst, and overly nosy classmates could eventually bring two people together pretty darn well. 

It was a Friday afternoon in September when Steve visited the U.A. training arena. The doors were propped open to let the new autumn air wash out the scents of sweat, and the sounds of birds chirping intermingled with the yells of the students sparring inside.

Despite the predictable outcome of most of the matches, Steve sat on the edge of his seat, mesmerized.  He spoke in broken Japanese and kept smoothing his hands over his glazed, ashen hair. His suit was gray and he had a smile on his face like he was watching an action movie. The reality of what he was watching was far less theatrical.

Momo Yaoyorozu was beating the crap out of Shouto Todoroki with a bo staff, and she’d been doing it for the better part of an hour.

“Who’s that guy?” Todoroki asked, low, when Steve took out his phone and tried to hide the fact that he was recording. He didn’t particularly mind cameras in general, but the shit-eating grin worn on the American teen’s face just made him uncomfortable.

Steve took another sip of his protein shake and Todoroki looked back to Momo, a much more welcome sight. But despite the seemingly innocuous question, Momo’s face clouded. It was complicated.

Momo hesitated before answering. “I’ll tell you later,” she promised. Well, if she’d been trying to keep him a secret, she wouldn’t have brought him. After a few minutes of slow, methodical technique rehearsal, the two returned to sparring.

Due to the recent events involving quirk-manipulating drugs, the fight with Eraserhead, and the general pervasiveness of situations where Todoroki might not be able to use his quirk, he had asked Momo to instruct him in bojutsu twice a week to ensure he at least had something to fall back on in the likely event of an emergency. He was competent, but not competent enough.

After about three consecutive matches in favor of Momo, Todoroki managed to land a hit to her rib. Not powerful, but after a few weeks of lessons, some progress was nice. He smirked. Steve’s hands shot up in congratulations, causing Todoroki to look over long enough for Momo to wipe his feet out from under him, flipping him onto his back. At the sudden overturn, Steve cackled and whooped, struggling to keep the video stable.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Momo said triumphantly, pulling Todoroki up off his ass and offering to take his bo back to the rack. He opted instead to walk with her.

“Got any bets for how the summit will go?” He asked. The question was almost rhetorical. The following day, a summit was being held at the Hero Network HQ to discuss the previous year and the future of the organization. The likelihood of it going well was low. Little had happened in that time that could be remotely considered positive for the outlook of heroics in the immediate future.

Momo sighed. “Actually, I’m not going to be there. I have a... prior commitment with Steve,” she said, gesturing absently at the young man sitting against the wall. She looked at him, slightly embarrassed. “You’ll tell me about it on Monday, right?”

Todoroki nodded, struggling to fit the bo staff through the three holes in the rack, placing it and replacing it until it settled lopsidedly. “You’ll be away from the dormitory until then?” He supposed a few days of reading wouldn’t be too bad if Midoriya didn’t ask him to do something. Maybe he’d visit his mother. Todoroki eyed Steve, wondering absently what business he had with his friend.

“No, but you will, right? You’re home for the weekend?”

Right. The weekend at home. Todoroki was looking forward to it and he wasn’t. There were certainly some members of his family he appreciated more than others, but his sister was one of the ones he cared more for, and her baby shower was on Sunday. He was going to see his father either way at the summit, so the net loss was rather low.

“I appreciate the fact that you remembered.” The corner of his mouth twitched into what was almost a smile. “The way you pay attention to your underlings demonstrates your capacity for leadership.” The statement had an air of drama, but the compliment was sincere. She blushed a bit and grinned.

“Why, thank you. I try.”

But a moment after the echoes of the statement faded into the passing wind, Momo’s smile went with it. The mild scowl she’d worn most of the afternoon took back its place on her brow.

Friendship didn’t come easily to Shouto Todoroki. A childhood spent homeschooled and isolated from his own siblings left him stunted socially, and the gap between his own experiences and that of his classmates was wide. Despite this, he had been making efforts to better engage himself with others. He took mental notes on proper human interaction when there was something to be learned, and this situation was one he’d prepared for. From the training exercise, he’d learned the Momo Yaoyorozu “I have something to say but I’ve decided against it” expression. Now for the proper response.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” He asked, as they began shutting the doors they’d opened to vent the air.

“I’m fine,” she insisted awkwardly.

As it turns out, no matter how many internet articles tell you that offering to talk to a girl about her feelings is the solution to any particular problem, the action in actuality is useless.

As the duo returned to the front of the building, where Todoroki’s father was presumably waiting to pick him up, they were greeted with the sight of Steve attempting to petition Endeavor for an autograph, but struggling with the language barrier. He was met with a halfhearted scribble and a clap on the shoulder that left an ashy black handprint on the suit Steve was wearing for whatever reason. Endeavor turned to the two teenagers, causing Steve to take notice of their arrival.

Steve took yet another obvious look at Momo’s sparse workout clothes, which Todoroki realized for the first time seemed a bit more conservative today, before sliding his eyes over to Todoroki and struggling to say something. He searched for the translation of the words he wanted to use.

“Ice guy?” he finally got out, smiling like they were pals.

“Yep. Ice guy. That’s me.”

Steve extended a hand to shake, and after a moment, Todoroki took it, not particularly wanting to preserve his reputation with the boy but getting the feeling he’d be seeing him again. Steve’s eyes lit up ever further and he exclaimed something in English. Momo grinned.

“He says your hands are cold,” she translated.

“Surprise”, the ice guy deadpanned.

The handshake was lasting a bit too long and Todoroki wasn’t exactly clear on American standards of etiquette. He looked down awkwardly, and noticed that Steve’s hand was significantly larger than his.

That’s odd, he thought. We’re about the same height.

After comparing the size of the hand Steve was shaking Todoroki’s with to the one at his side, Todoroki came to the conclusion that he must have some kind of hand-enlarging quirk like Kendou. What’s more, he was using it to try to appear intimidating.

Why? Why was Steve, who was so interested in being friendly and had apparently watched enough of the sports festival to recognize him several months later, trying to be intimidating when he should know very well that Todoroki could stomp him in moments? It didn’t make sense. But he’d already seen enough of Steve to decide he probably didn’t act rationally, and if he decided to try to push, Todoroki was capable of pushing back, just a little.

While smiling his strange grimace, Todoroki ramped the temperature of his extremities down until Steve dropped his friendly facade and took his hand away.

“Come on, Momo, let’s go,” Steve said in English. Todoroki understood none of it, but he was surprised that the young man had the gall to call her by her given name. He chalked it up to a cultural difference.

As Steve tried to step to turn and walk away, he found his shoes frozen in place. His knees buckled and twisted. He regained his composure almost instantly, but the look of pain that flashed across his face did admittedly bring Todoroki some measure of satisfaction.

As Steve left with Momo, Endeavor grunted at his son. “She’s very powerful,” he said. “I’ve seen her fight before. Her family is wealthy, but we’re wealthier and have social standing. I could arrange to have that happen for you if you asked.”

Todoroki stared blankly at his father for a few moments, unable to comprehend the sheer audacity of what he had just said.

“Not the marriage conversation again. Let’s just… not.” Todoroki made a motion like he was about to start walking, but Endeavor continued as if Todoroki hadn’t done anything.

“The conversation will continue until the issue is resolved, Shouto. It’s past time for these considerations.”

It wasn’t past time. It wasn’t past time at all. But the decreased involvement of All Might and the continual hunting of heroes combined with Endeavor being blamed for the sudden spike in crime had led the man into a bit of paranoia. He sensed an attack coming, and he was looking for an excuse to pass the family estate to his youngest son in case something happened. “Eldest married male” was an accepted policy, and one Endeavor was hoping to take advantage of so that his hero agency could stay in the hands of his sidekick until Todoroki reached an acceptable age. The rest of his siblings were too old and Endeavor cared about them too little.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m pretty sure I can find a wife without having to pay for one.”  Todoroki regretted not having prepared a more poisonous retort, but it fitted well enough. He looked over at Momo, hoping she was out of earshot.

He wished he hadn’t.

Steve the wealthy American boy was gripping her by her arm near the shoulder in what appeared to be an attempt to help her get into the car but actually made it very clear that he A) was in a hurry to leave, B) wasn’t particularly mindful of what he was doing to another human, and C) didn’t think she could get in the car by her damn self.

Well, if it’s a date, he thought, this Steve guy won’t last very long. A half dozen scenarios flashed through his mind of all the ways Momo would break this poor moron before their time together concluded.

“You’re being childish yet again. You’re not listening to me despite knowing very well I want the best for you.”

Todoroki rolled his eyes so hard he thought he could see his brain. His brain looked just as exasperated.

Pray for me, she’d texted Jirou after Steve had driven her home the night before.

It hadn’t been his godawful driving. She had no idea how he had gotten a license, but it was clear he wasn’t used to driving on the left side of the road.

It hadn’t been Steve’s overenthusiastic, smarmy demeanor. People were people and first impressions got washed away with time spent getting to know the other person.

It hadn’t been the empty, meaningless conversation  that had sparsely populated the car ride, or the strange way that he smelled, or the terrible American protein drink he’d offered her that was “supposed to optimize post-workout rejuvenation.”

What bothered Momo about Steve was that she didn’t understand why he’d suddenly turned up.

They hadn’t seen each other in years, and they hadn’t ever spoken before because Momo hadn’t learned English. In fact, she’d decided to pick up the language back up only because Steve had announced he was coming to Japan for her birthday week three months ago, and she’d been unable to ask him what on Earth he was thinking. Now that he was here, it was more obvious just how little actual reason to spend any time together existed. But he came anyway, the Fall break at his private school landing on just the perfect week.

And so now, they were sitting in a half-empty coffee shop near the UA dormitories, where Steve was telling Momo a slow, deliberate story about life at the East American Academy of Heroics in some attempt to impress her while the girl in question watched Thirteen gesticulate on the television over his shoulder, squinting to read the subtitles against the glare from the window. Whatever was going on at the summit, it simply had to be more interesting than this conversation.

The omiai tradition was long-standing in Japan, and while it had fallen out of style somewhat in recent years, it still stood that if your parents told you to marry someone, you did it.

Steve had been the son of Momo’s father’s business partner when they were younger, and the men had made a marriage agreement over their children when the two were very young. Steve’s family had a home in Japan, but he attended English-speaking schools as a child and boarding schools in the United States from about the age of eleven. If he’d ever known Japanese, he didn’t now. He was a year and a half older than Momo and acted as if the extra time on this earth made him more worldly and wise.

Thirteen’s speech was about the heightened need for paramedics as those who would previously have been attracted to the field were now pursuing heroics. The rise in villainy resulting from Stain’s campaign had inspired more heroes to focus on combat and villain takedowns, so natural disasters were becoming more deadly and villains who planned actual widespread destruction were fought by heroes unable to perform basic life-preserving strategies on whatever victims they encountered. He suggested adding a third subclass, “medical rescue”, in addition to disaster rescue and villain takedown hero designations. Thirteen theorized that the fame and reward of heroics combined with an increased capacity for individuals with healing quirks would be a net gain for the Hero Network and Japan as a whole. While Momo agreed to an extent, she wasn’t sure-

“So… ah…. What do you do? You go to the beaches around here?” Steve asked, finally having caught on that he was boring her.

It had certainly taken him long enough.

“Well, I uh, I like to build things,” Momo sputtered, getting her brain back on track to this conversation. “I study chemistry and mechanics a lot.” She waved her hand over the table and produced a Yaoyoroshka Mark IV, a version of her weaponized nesting dolls. This version, when thrown, turned inside out to produce blades. It wasn’t very practical and she’d probably never use it, but it had been her most recent design and was fresh in her mind.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed it. “Chemistry and mechanics, huh? I’ve never really been into that kind of stuff. But this is coo- agh!” Steve had attempted to twist the two sides of the doll apart, but had sliced his hand open. He reached across the table and grabbed a fistful of napkins, cursing.

Momo sighed, took his hand, and unrolled his fingers from the bloody napkins, pressing an absorbent pad into his palm and wrapping gauze around it. She produced a safety pin from a finger and clipped it shut.

“Medical equipment, now that’s a better use of your quirk than those dolls. You’ve got a real gift for taking care of people.”

It was almost the same compliment she’d received from Todoroki yesterday, but she saw in his eyes that the comment was a snagged opportunity. He’d been looking for something to flatter her about. He was trying to be manipulative but, as he’d just admitted, he wasn’t very smart.

Steve hissed and pouted, squeezing and opening his injured hand. The cut wasn’t even that big. Whiny little bitch. Momo rolled her eyes and looked back up at the television. Maybe it was rude but this “date” had already gone on too long.

“So you’re good with people, you’re good at fixing booboos, so, speaking of creating things, do you think you’d want to have kids?”

Momo looked him in the eye and made a show of trying to find the waiter. Then she breathed and decided the question was fair since this was supposed to be a marriage negotiation after all.

“Do I want them? Not sure. I haven’t given it any thought, honestly. But I’m a mutant- the first in my family with my quirk, and we don’t know what effects it will have. I can’t create anything living, as much as I’ve tried to make plants, vaccines, single-celled organisms. The doctors say there’s a good chance my quirk might keep me from being able to have kids regardless.”

Steve looked at her seriously, appraising her. “Your parents were able to produce both you and your genes. That should be a good sign, right?”

“Fair point.”

Steve got a strange expression. “I mean, you’re… normal, right? You know what I mean. You’re… complete.” He made a motion with his eyebrows.

Momo turned red in the cheeks and put her head in her hands. She looked back up at the television, trying to ground herself in the hero summit to calm down while she considered exactly what to do with the increasingly awful situation before her. He didn’t like science, he couldn’t carry a normal conversation, and he had just asked about her genitals on their first date.

Steve turned around to see what exactly it was she was looking at, just in time for the camera to pan across the audience. In the front row was Endeavor, on fire as usual, sitting next to Todoroki, who appeared to be asleep.

“So, ah, how close are you with Snowflake?” Steve asked.

“I’m the best student academically and he’s the best fighter. We always work together because if we do we win. We’re friends.”

Steve turned around with a sly expression. “I get it. I have someone to compete with.”

“What.” Momo deadpanned.

“It’s fine, I get it. I saw you guys getting all sweaty yesterday.” He lifted his eyebrows, grinning. “And besides, I have a girlfriend too. Had. Had a girlfriend. We broke up.”

Momo stood up.

“Ok, ok, ok, I’m sorry, I was wrong,” Steve backpedaled frantically, waving his arms in front of him in what he probably thought was a calming motion. “I thought, you know, girls like guys who are gloomy and all that but I was wrong. You guys seemed close and I just wanted to let you know that it’s okay if everything’s not working out right now, I know this was short notice but we’ll figure it out. We don’t really know each other but I think we could make it work.”

It was the first thing Steve had said that sounded like had put some thought into his words at some point. He was trying to reveal that he’d had a girlfriend in the years they’d been apart. Her feelings weren’t hurt and she didn’t blame him- she wouldn’t have felt particularly awful dating, either. She until recently was almost certain that the engagement was off completely.  And the fact that, while mistaken, he would have been understanding if she’d already been in a relationship was Steve’s first point in the positive. He hadn’t seemed the type.

“I don’t want to sit in this cafe anymore. Let’s take a walk.”

The day after the summit was cloudy but not unpleasant. Tables had been set in the courtyard of the Todoroki home, where Fuyumi and her husband greeted far more guests than they could reasonably know personally. Todoroki sat alone awkwardly at a table where a group of people had left their bags.

This wasn’t the type of occasion Todoroki preferred to spend his time, but it was pleasant anyway. He’d gotten to spend the hour and a half before the party carrying things where Fuyumi told him to while she lounged on a mass thrown together of chairs, pillows, cushions, and more chairs in a way that only a really, really pregnant woman did.

She told stories of the students she’d recently had to leave for the year, and Todoroki told her about his classmates’ antics. She didn’t say it, but the awed way she listened to the his tales of life in the dormitory made it clear she was happy for him. He’d never had friends and he’d never spent time with other kids, so the fact that he’d shared a story about Mina arm wrestling Dark Shadow for the cereal milk was more than she’d ever hoped for him. He didn’t think it was quite as sappy as she did, but she wasn’t the first person who had told him he seemed happier since leaving home. That shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was true anyway.

Now, watching the various women and occasional men who chose to attend the party share food and laughter, Todoroki couldn’t help but be happy for his sister in return. She’d spent so much of her life feeling guilty over the events of their childhood that he wasn’t sure she’d ever reach this point. Now, they were having a regular barbecue and anticipating the arrival of a new family member. Fuyumi had found the love of another person and the courage to bring life into the world when sh’ed found out she was pregnant with a baby she hadn’t planned for.

But despite the fact that this was almost exactly what his father was trying to woo him with over the marriage arrangements, he still didn’t want this for himself.

In the midst of the rising crime rates and chaos, things for Todoroki were improving for the first time in his life. He had made a friend- three of them, and there were other students in his class that he could envision himself spending time with at some point. Beyond Midoriya, IIda, and Momo, he appreciated Tokoyami’s capacity to focus and perform well under pressure despite his usual dramatic air. He liked Shouji’s habit of getting up every Sunday to make enough pancakes for everyone just because he could. He didn’t think he’d ever put a lot of effort into a real friendship with Kirishima, but he still enjoyed watching him and Tetsutetsu beat each other up on the lawn in front of their dormitory every Tuesday.

Every conversation about some strange girl with nitroglycerine sweat or increased resistance to temperature fluctuation or enhanced hearing was a threat to the life he’d started to make for himself at school. He wanted to know where his current track was taking him, not get off on some new one when the ride was only beginning.

Shit. He was getting all sappy.

The party started to split apart; there would be an event at the other side of the house where the men would hang out for a few hours while the women stayed here. Todoroki got up, hugged his sister tightly, and followed his in-laws inside. He was about to go up to his room to get his things together before heading back to the school when his phone went off.

Come speak with me. Now.

“As you are currently not doing anything, I would like go back downstairs and meet someone.” Endeavor was facing the window in the office of their home, looking out to where the guests at the women’s half of the baby shower were milling about.

“What,” Todoroki said flatly. “Who?”

“I took the liberty of calling up Miss Yaoyorozu’s family yesterday.” Todoroki started to interject, but Endeavor kept talking. “Unfortunately, it appears she’s already engaged to someone. This is not a big issue, I have already been looking into various prospects for you and there is a girl nearby who doesn’t have school on Monday either. Her quirk is extremely advanced stamina and a very powerful immune system. I believe both of these are things that would work well with the two that you have, and would most likely not interfere with them so as to make them ineffective.”

“Look. Father. I was completely serious when I told you I would like to make my own decisions, particularly regarding this. Please do not schedule any further appointments with prospective suitors. Dear Lord. Please.” Todoroki pinched his nose between his fingers. “Please.”

“You’ve turned down every other prospect. The girl is already here. I am only asking that you speak with her. You may have the final decision, if that is what you want.”

Todoroki almost protested, but shook his head. He could give this girl a shot, he decided. It would only make her feel bad and him feel like a dick if she came out to some stranger’s baby shower and got stood up.

“Fine, but if I like her, we have to date for, I don’t know, a year first. I’m not doing this your way.”

Nonoha was nineteen and small, but fit. She had a plain face and hands that looked like she used them for working. Her black hair had two long braids framing her face, and her makeup was colorful. As she smacked her gum loudly, she reminded Todoroki of Jirou.

The full force of what Endeavor had said hit when he sat down in front of her. Momo was getting married. Steve was the guy. Steve was the guy Momo was marrying.

His jaw dropped slightly, and the girl, Nonoha, blushed awkwardly. She probably thought he found her attractive. Which, she was, but that wasn’t it at all.

Steve? The American? He vaguely remembered Momo learning English from a book on a couch in the dormitory.

“What?” He asked.

“I asked if it was true you attended U.A.” Nonoha brushed her long, straight hair behind her ear, but she was staring at one of the vases on a far table.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah I am. Did you watch the sports festival a few months ago? I was in that, so you might have seen me at some point.”

He remembered Steve whooping at the sparring match. Everything started to make sense. Steve was one of those Americans who thought Japanese girls would be all over them. Watching Momo fight was a sight to behold indeed- Steve was ecstatic at having won such a perfect picture of Japanese femininity.

“No, I’m usually not really into that sort of thing. I’m studying art.” Oh boy. Things weren’t looking like there would be much to talk about for a single conversation, let alone a lifetime.

This was probably how Momo’s date with Steve had gone. They’d chatted politely over tea or something and he’d made some comment about how cute this tea shop was, just like her, and it was probably terrible.

The worst part was, he’d thought based on their interactions that this would be some one-time thing that ended with Steve in a ditch somewhere. Apparently it had been serious enough that someone at the Yaoyorozu household had told Endeavor of all people to go away. This meant there was obligation. This meant Momo would try to make it work whether it was a good idea or not because she felt responsible.

This was bad.

“Oh no!” Nonoha squeaked. “Uhm, did you know that your hair is on fire?”

Todoroki’s eyes widened as he patted the side of his head with his right hand. “Thanks. Sorry, I got distracted.”

“It’s okay. I’m not particularly looking forward to this, either.” Nonoha looked at her hands, the admission embarrassing her a bit.

Todoroki turned and looked at her. “It’s all right. I told my father I’d at least meet you so that I could give you a chance, but now that we know how much we really don’t have in common, I’ll tell him we’re not compatible.”

Nonoha looked confused. “Really? My grandmother told me the deal was pretty much set. That this was a first meeting of many, if you know what I mean.”

He should have seen this coming.

Todoroki dropped his head into his hands. “I’m really sorry. It’s my dad. He sortof… does what he wants. You know what? Why don’t we give this another couple minutes and see if we have anything else we can talk about?” He tried a smile at her, but he was out of practice and he was sure it looked a bit garish.

Nonoha shuddered. “Ah, actually, I feel like I should probably tell you… I’m in love with someone else.”

Todoroki raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

“And don’t tell anyone, but it’s a girl. No offense, but I’m never gonna love you, no matter what. I’m trying to stall until I can go to college and get away from my grandmother. Let’s just call this off.”

“He wouldn’t call it off,” Todoroki finished. “Said he didn’t think I’d ever come to a decision and that this was the only thing he could trust me to do.”

He was sitting in the floor in Momo’s room playing with a Yaoyoroshka Mark 4, Momo on her desk at the room’s other end. It was eleven o’clock Sunday night, and they were both in their pajamas.

“Which is just a very long way for me to break the ice, no pun intended, so that I can ask you about something. Is Steve the guy you’re engaged to?” Todoroki wanted to keep staring at the doll, but thought he should probably give Momo the respect of looking her in the eye. She looked away anyway.

Momo snorted. “You said ‘guy’, but by the looks of things, the correct word might soon be ‘corpse.’” She sat down in front of him on the floor against the bookshelf. “How’d you know?”

“Heh. My, ah, dad called your house and asked if you were available.” Now Todoroki actually did look away.

“That’s odd, it was an agreement between our parents but nothing’s really been made official. Come to think of it, Steve’s staying with my parents. He might have been the one who told your dad to bugger off.”

“So he’s possessive.” Todoroki frowned. He had a bit of experience dealing with arranged marriages that had failed miserably, which was why he’d decided to confront Momo tonight in the first place.

Momo made vague, frustrated gestures as she spoke. “He’s… something. We have virtually nothing in common. He was in the hero training program at his school, but he got swapped into general studies last year. He likes surfing and Nike socks. He made fun of my accent and made up a bunch of stupid nicknames and talked about how cute I was, but also made about a dozen suggestive comments about our… sparring session.” Momo looked uncomfortable. “And that’s just with the little English I’m capable of.”

“So what now?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’m trying to find a solution.” She noticed what Todoroki was playing with and sat up. “Be careful with that. Steve cut his hand open on that yesterday.”

Todoroki looked more closely at the nesting doll. “This?” He tried to open it and had to dodge the blades that extended suddenly. He barked out a laugh. “I like it. I have no idea what you’d do with it, but I like it.”

Todoroki reached over to hand the doll back to her and stiffened. “Which hand was it?”

“What?”

“Which hand did Steve cut open?”

Momo looked up, thinking. “The right one?”

“Dammit”, he cursed. That’s the one he shook. Not this again. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” He looked back at her. “Did he just bring this up out of the blue?”

“Yeah, pretty much. He said he had a girlfriend who broke up with him, and that was maybe six months ago, and then three months ago he said he was coming here. My dad just told me Steve was coming and that we might make the engagement official at the end of the week if things were working.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’s working, but you wouldn’t be telling me about this if it was as easy as telling him to go away.”

“Yeah, strangely, despite the fact that I have tried a couple of times to bore him to tears about chemistry, he’s just not losing interest. He’s still convinced it’s a good idea.”

Todoroki rubbed his forehead. “Ok, so I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on here. This was his idea, not his dad’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So he’s some spoiled kid who gets sent away to boarding school, where he’s popular because of his quirk and his weird family situation in Japan, and everybody tells him he can be a hero. He’s a trust fund kid and he’s at the top of the social ladder. He gets a girlfriend. He joins the hero course. But he can’t keep up. He’s not very smart and he doesn’t have the personality to match his… I’m guessing his quirk is body part modification?”

Momo rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he certainly didn’t shut up about that one.”

“Yeah, so once the novelty of that wears off his girlfriend leaves him for somebody who is actually interesting, and he gets moved to general studies. All of a sudden he’s a failure. Clearly, not only is he not the brightest bulb in the box, but he doesn’t have the interest in school to make up for it.  There’s bound to be somebody more popular, and of course his family isn’t happy with his grades.”

Momo squinted at him, trying to figure out where this was going.

“And then you show up. You make it pretty far in the Sports Festival, and that one clip of you taking down the robots with your vest undone goes viral. It gets out that that girl is the one at the top of the class in the top ranked school. Then, the nail in the coffin. You get paired up with Uwabami for the field training and she plasters you all over television.”

Momo sat back against the bookshelf, understanding.

“You’re his path back to social acceptance. He may have poor grades and a shitty, generic personality, but he’s got that pretty hero candidate from Japan all over his Instagram feed- and best of all, if you’re married, you can’t leave like the last girl did.”

Momo put her head in her hands. “That makes a lot of sense. He suggested I do an exchange with the American school for six months.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m not.” She picked her head up. “Now I have to deal with this. This has taken up a lot of his time and effort. The whole thing started because his and my dad used to be business partners but split up when his father went into politics. My dad’s been struggling a bit for the last couple years, and we’ve taken a pretty big nosedive again recently. The preface to the ‘hey my son remembered your daughter existed’ conversation was ‘hey you look like you need help continuing to function as a legitimate corporation, let’s work out something mutually beneficial.’”

“Your dad’s not going to marry you off to some foreign douchebag for money.” He didn’t thnk so, anyway.

“No, but I get the feeling relations between the two could get a lot worse fast, and I just don’t want that to be my fault.” She sighed. “I’m thinking I could just be all wishy-washy and say ‘I don’t know, let’s do the paperwork later.’ Maybe he’ll move on to some other fixation.”

“It’s been three months, minimum. You know he’ll keep pushing it.”

She sighed.

“Yaoyorozu, you know I respect the hell out of you, right?” He asked.

“Ah, yes,” she responded awkwardly.

“Then I want you to know that I am making this assessment completely objectively. You cannot marry that guy. Go marry some shy programmer who won’t give you any grief. Go marry some hobo who will flash your name around to get into clubs. But don’t marry Steve. My dad beat my mom every morning over the kitchen table until she lost her mind. I don’t think Steve will hit you, but he’ll belittle you in little ways until you’re nothing. You get insecure sometimes, and this time you’ll be on a different continent than your friends and family speaking a foreign language and eating trashy food. You’ll lose the will to be a hero and you’ll become a trophy wife because you’ll have no one to support you emotionally and no one who wants to.”

He turned to look at Momo, who was staring at him.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. Either you’ll lose your self-esteem or you’ll be bored until you die.”

Tears started to well up in Momo’s eyes. Shit.

“I’m not crying over Steve,” she said. “I’m just frustrated. You’re right. I’m too complacent and I should have just told him to stay on his side of the ocean.”

“Well, there was a little history there. You haven’t really messed up yet. The question is what to do now.”

“How do you say no firmly while making it really clear that it doesn’t have anything to do with him? Even it does? We can’t have any kind of retaliation.”

“He’ll take it personally whatever you do. The fact that he’s willing to overlook the language and cultural barrier is a bad sign, and a worse sign is the fact that his dad is going along with it. By now his dad probably thinks this whole plan is a good idea, too. Sees you as someone who will grow in social standing. A net gain for the family.”

“The only really ‘good’ reasons I’ve come up with that could justify the nullification of the prior agreement would be a better offer coming by or some previously unknown medical condition on my part. I already told him there’s a good chance I can’t have kids and he didn’t seem to care, and any less severe medical condition isn’t legal justification for a marriage annulment and therefore agreement by extension, so the second option’s out.”

“What does your dad even do?”

“My family owns a construction materials company. We’ve been having difficulty getting grants to fund the materials science research we need to get a competitive edge for manufacturing structural materials made more resistant to frequent kinetic impact. Hero-proofing buildings is in high demand and there’s funding for it, and guess whose father works in what very convenient branch of government.” Momo massaged her bare feet, not making eye contact. It wasn’t in her nature to show weakness, and now she was explaining almost every weakness she had in detail.

“Oh.”

On the dresser in Todoroki’s room were four small objects. The first was a “thank you” card sent to him by Fuyumi’s third grade class after he’d visited the school one day to answer questions about UA. One of them was a small figurine of All Might Midoriya had given him. The third was a pair of Iida’s glasses Uraraka had swiped once. The final object he had on his dresser was a basic matryoshka he’d picked up after one of his and Momo’s first missions together.

Despite all the progress he’d made, Todoroki knew that Momo was one of three, maybe four people on the planet whose presence he could not only stand but enjoy for more than fifteen minutes at a time. (Iida depended on the day, really.)  He knew he wasn’t the most expressive person and he appreciated how affording everyone had been through his transition from “kind of an asshole” to “kind of a nice guy.” And if Momo was willing to help him understand triple integrals at three o’clock in the morning when his pleasant demeanor faded, he was willing to help her figure out how to escape from some weird legal situation, if only to make sure she was able to stick around.

Momo was, as Midoriya would say, “within arm’s reach.”

And just like that, he had an idea.

“You know how I make stupid plans sometimes? I need you to tell me if this is as dumb as I think it might be. Because I also think it might just work.”

“I’m listening.”

“There’s another route to those research grants. The Hero Network can spew research money, especially under the guise of building safer buildings in place of whatever they destroy.”

“But aren’t those grants, like, really difficult to get to? Everybody and their brother is scrambling to get their hands on some grant because the work they do is tangentially related to the hero industry, and my dad isn’t any more qualified. I’m pretty sure we’ve already been turned down for it.”

“Yeah, they’re difficult. You pretty much have to have someone on the inside in the Hero Network helping you, someone of high ranking or up there in administration. That’s… sortof where I’m going with this.”

“Neither of us will even be in the rankings for two more years.” Momo looked confused.

“No, but this is where the thing you said about the legal agreement comes in.” He took in an awkward breath, hoping he didn’t sound like a total moron for making the suggestion. “You can break it if you get a better offer, right?”

Momo took a few seconds to process what he was saying. She stared at him, slackjawed.

“It would actually be pretty easy,” Todoroki continued. “We wouldn’t tell any of our classmates, Nonoha could go back to pretending to be straight, Steve could have his own private hissy fit, your family could get back to work, my dad would be ecstatic, unfortunately. He likes you. We’d go back to regular, everyday life for the next couple of years. When we graduate and go our separate ways, we can do the paperwork quietly and pretend it never happened.”

Momo stared at him intently, trying to work through the logic. “Are you serious?”

“I’m completely serious,” Todoroki said. “I’m suggesting we get married.”