#public transport is a joke here of youre not going to the big city

[cowsaresushi-coral]

i love public transportation options for reason like oh what if i was drinking or car issues (i dont have one) and it being cheaper than lyft/uber (it costs the same to drive 5 mins in a car (after tip) to just using a train to a place 1-2 hrs away) but the damage public transportation has done to my blood pressure might be irreparable

[seeingivy]

my kink is karma

satoru gojo x f!reader

**loosely based on my kink is karma by chappell roan

an: based on a request from gojo as taylor anon <3 this one is for u

--  

“hi honey bee.” 

you peer over the top of your monitor screen to find satoru gojo, the executive account manager whose murder you’ve been planning for the past few weeks, looming over your desk. his inhumanely long limbs are fixed behind his back, bright ocean blue eyes filled with glee. and you’ve been through this enough times to know exactly what’s going on. 

he’s caught yet another mistake that you’ve made. and he’s here to sick it to you, his favorite worker bee that he likes to irritate. 

satoru gojo is a nicely packaged sewer demon that arrived two months ago, replacing the little old lady who used to occupy the glass office at the center of the workflow. she was kind, a little bit confused here and there, but she got her job done without making a fuss and that was all that mattered to you. she made you blondies for your birthday. 

you didn’t realize how nice you had it until she was replaced with him. because satoru gojo was irritating, prancing in the way he always did – insanely tall and taking up too much space in your peaceful office – with a boisterous laugh, a strange sense of humor, and a tendency to be irritatingly perfect. 

a stitched and tailored suit,  designer perfume, and a sparkling rolex watch on his wrist. a pretty girlfriend that he bragged about at mandatory lunches, a shiny black mercedes, and a penthouse apartment in the center of the city. 

you hate him. you hate how you can feel him scorning at the worn down ballet flats that you wear to work, the vintage watch you snagged from the thrift store, and the narrowed look that he gives to your public transportation card as you tuck it back into your wallet when you walk into the office. 

“are you doing a sales report?” he asks. 

“i’m at my job. where i work in sales marketing. what do you think i’m working on?” 

you watch his eye twitch. the small movements – eye twitches, nose wrinkles, and the turning of his lip – you had been watching them, memorizing what exactly it was that pushed his buttons since he was so keen on doing it first. though, he would never show it upfront, at least not as openly as you do anyways. 

that was one of the nice things about satoru gojo. that he was intelligent and perceptive – enough for him to know that you were maybe the only person in this office who didn’t like him. that you could understand his niceness was masked in arrogance. that you had no intention of kissing his ass like almost everyone else in this office did. 

you loathed his very existence, the stupid jokes he made, and would rather hear nails on a chalkboard than the stories that he recounts from his weekends at his parent’s suburban villa. 

“i love a great sense of humor!” he responds, scooting his long legs over to the side of your desk and hunching over to get a view of your computer. 

he says it with a bright and sparkling smile, but you get the message clear and straight – i’d watch the attitude if i were you. 

the smell of his fancy cologne tickles your nose as he leans over, his face nearly cheek to cheek with yours as he places a little manila folder in front of you. you heave a sigh, opening it up to your sales reports from the last week, each one laminated and with a dark red mark in the center. 

“been looking over your reports. you’re getting a little sloppy with your math.” 

you scoff. 

“is that right?” you ask. 

“uh huh. just make sure you count your decimal points and your zeroes when you turn in this one. i know it can be a little hard sometimes, big numbers and all.” 

you bite down on your cheek, feeling the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. did he always have to be so patronizing? 

“now why would i do that? i’d put you out of a job if i did.” 

satoru clicks his tongue in cheek – one of the clear cut signs that you’ve hit one of his exposed nerves. that he’s a glorified calculator sitting in a fancy glass office with an arbitrary executive title slapped next to his name. 

satoru gojo hates that you always seem to make that point every time he corrects you. and you’ll take any chance to remind him. that he doesn’t do anything worthwhile. that he’s a pretty face and just that – nothing substantial underneath. 

“luckily for me, you’ve proven that you’ll be incompetent until the end. as long as you’re here, it seems that i will be too. i’d get back to it if i were you, honey bee.” he responds, the tone in his voice scathing as he walks back to his office, a glimmering plastic smile pressed to his face. 

--

you have mandatory team building lunches on fridays at twelve thirty. it’s one of the things that you appreciate – that you don’t have to wake up early to put together a lunch from the leftovers in your fridge. 

you cycle through every person in the office, rotating on picking up lunch that accommodates the budget and everyone’s dietary requests, and break bread to get closer to one another. satoru, naturally, goes over budget every time it’s his turn, and insists that it’s no problem – though he always seems to slightly mess up your order, while everyone else’s comes out perfectly. 

and on the days where he isn’t choosing the lunch, he’s so irritating – complaining of a sensitive stomach – and instead brings a nicely packaged lunch that his private chef makes for him every morning.. three courses, always packed with a dessert. 

one time you asked him if the chef wrote him little supportive notes in his lunchbox. you would be lying if you said it didn’t fill you with pride, that the small comment you made was enough to fill him with irritation for the rest of the work day. 

“what are your christmas plans, satoru?” 

you look over at your fellow sales associate, yuuji, and share a smirk with him. the two of you lean back, nursing your little sandwiches from the deli two miles down in your hands as you start the mental counter in your head. 

every day before lunch, you and yuuji make a shot counter of things that you expect gojo to say during team building. common phrases that fall out of his mouth like back at the villa, my custom tailor shop, and louis vuitton – the normal trust fund baby vocabulary, naturally – somehow always make their way into the conversation. 

you drink shots accordingly at happy hour after work. whoever’s word has the higher count has to pay for the entire night. 

your poison for today was private jet. yuuji’s was timeshare. 

“anne marie and i are heading over to her family’s timeshare in bali. they have a property over there – full pool, private beach and all.” 

yuuji snorts. you roll your eyes. 

“a private beach?” nanami asks, eyes raised as he neatly picks the tomatoes out of his sandwich and hands them over to shoko at his side. 

“a private beach, indeed. it’s right on the coast, equipped with boats for excursions and stuff like that. the timeshare comes set with all of those.” he states. 

“excursions.” you repeat, giving yuuji a wide eyed look as he fights the urge to laugh. 

satoru looks over at you, a clear distaste in his eyes, as he leans back in his chair, legs spread wide. 

“what are you doing for your vacation, y/n?” satoru asks. 

“i’m going home with yuuji for a few days.” you state. 

“right. that sounds exciting!” he states. 

you can hear the message laced in that one too – a clear and pointed diss that he’s going to be spending his time at a resort with his skinny legged model girlfriend and you’re going to be going home with the one gay guy that works at your office and get drunk in the bar in your hometown. 

“which airline are you taking?” satoru asks. 

you grin. 

“delta.” 

“never been. i use my private jet to get around.” 

you give him an exaggerated gasp. 

“a private jet? tell me all about it.” 

you’ve goaded him right into your trap – as satoru then says the word private jet a total of seventeen times, defeating the measly eight times he said timeshare – and delight in the fact that you’ll at least get to have a nice night out. 

--

on the first tuesday back from break, freshly minted into five days of the new year, your co-worker katie shakes your shoulder aggressively ten minutes into your shift. you note that four days into the week, satoru has yet to return to the office and you hope that it’s not just good luck – that maybe he fell off of his duffy boat in bali and lost all his memory, rendered incapable of ever returning to the office again. 

you pray that your new boss isn’t as much of an asshole as him. 

you look up to find katie’s eyes wide, an excited smile on her face, as she leans down into your space. katie is one of the few friends that you have in the office, the third person who finds satoru and his antics irritating. 

“did you hear about gojo?” she asks. 

“every thing i know about that man is against my will.” you deadpan. 

she giggles, leaning down to whisper. 

“oh my fucking god. come here. you’re going to love this.” 

she stands up, scanning the room, as she gestures for you to stand up, the two of you making your way over to the break room. you can’t talk so freely about him when his little lackey’s are still lingering around, who will most definitely tell him that the two of you were gossipipng. 

and god knows that would only make his head bigger – knowing that everyone talked about him even when he wasn’t there. katie strides into the room, taking residence over the coffee machine and shooting nanami a polite smile, as she starts absentmindedly brewing a cup of coffee. 

“he’s losing it.” 

“who?” 

“satoru. he’s going fucking crazy apparently.” 

you snort. as if. satoru’s definition of going crazy would be mixing and matching different designer brands – like wearing a gucci watch with a louis vuitton tie. 

“turns out that his glamorous vacation to bali with that raggedy anne doll never happened. she had a whole meltdown and broke up with him after his credit card got declined at a restaurant they went to a few days before the trip.” 

you nearly choke on your spit. 

“what?” 

“apparently it was just a fluke, his card got momentarily blocked since he bought some new car. but she literally freaked out on him and left him stranded.” 

you snort. 

“there’s no way.” 

“she told him that it was unacceptable. that she had enough.” 

“well, i’ll say. she milked an entire designer wardrobe out of him.” you whisper, earning you a giggle from katie. 

“i know! anyways, sharon from hr told me that he’s taken the past four days off because he doesn’t have transportation – he fucking crashed the mercedes when he was driving home from the breakup.” 

“you’re fucking kidding. the g-wagon?” 

“i swear to god.” 

it feels a little mean, but you can’t help but delight in all of it. 

that despite it all, karma’s real. and it’s finally satoru fucking gojo’s turn. six months of patronizing comments and arrogance has finally caught up with him. his pretty girlfriend is just that – a pretty girl who wanted to do nothing with him. the car he brags about has been demolished and at the very least his larger than life ego has taken some type of hti. 

“oh, look, look.” 

katie shakes your arm, the two of you peering through the glass window to see satoru climb out of the bus – the same bus that you take to work everyday to save money – with what you can tell from here is an unironed suit and messy hair. his tie isn’t even done properly. 

and when he walks in, all you smell is the fancy cologne, with the faintest hints of tequila lingering behind. a smell that you only catch, because it’s one that you’ve drowned out on a bad day. 

you and yuuji pick horrendous words for lunch – yours being luxury brand and yuuji’s being private chef – and much to your dismay, he says neither. he actually doesn’t say anything. just sulks in the corner and disappears as soon as he finishes the tacos. 

you leave a mistake in your sales report. he doesn’t even catch it. 

--

“can you close out my tab, toji?” 

toji, the bartender who’s well aware of your antics – and perhaps even more upset than you are that your hoity toity boss didn’t play along well with your game today – gives him a nod, wiping his hands with the towel as he looks over at you. 

“you too, doll?” 

“no, i’ll have another before i head out.” you state. 

he gives you a nod, shuffling off to the side to get yuuji’s bill, as you slump down on the bar, yuuji mimicking your motions as you both lean your heads against one anothers. and he leaves just as fast, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head as you swirl the little ice cubes in your drink as you watch the bubbles fizz out. 

“rough day, y/n?” 

you shrug. 

“same old – can’t really complain. you?” 

toji smiles. 

“you see that guy over there, at the end of the bar? this is the third day that he’s drank up my entire supply of tequila.” 

you follow the line of his vision to see satoru – the satoru gojo slumming it in this rather disgusting bar, at least for his standards – his tie messy and the buttons of his shirt loosely undone sitting at the bar. 

“him?” 

“uh huh. broke up with like the only girl he’s ever dated, apparently. whoever she is, thank her fucking ass. he tips well over.” toji murmurs, giving you a smile as he rearranges the glasses. 

you give toji a weary smile, pressing the cash down on the bar, as you make your way over – noting that tequila smell is not masked at all this time – as you slide into the seat next to him, tapping on your shoulder. and he looks over, the rims of his eyes red and eyes squinting as he leans forward.  

“honey bee?” he slurs. 

the smell is overwhelming. 

“the one and only.” you respond. 

you reach forward, sliding the little shot glass out of his hand and placing it behind the bar. you turn back to find that his hair is messy, whatever mousse that he’s used to style it has clearly run fraught, and his cheeks flushed pink. 

“that’s enough for one night, gojo. let’s get you home, yeah?” 

“huh?” 

“home. the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or a household?” 

he glares. 

“i know what a home is.” he deadpans. 

“perfect! let’s get you to yours.” you respond. 

satoru turns over to you, blue eyes weary, before he shrugs and slumps down onto the bar. you roll your eyes, scooting your chair closer as you pull up your phone. 

“i’ll do you a liberty. i know you’re probably morally opposed to taxis, so i’ll call you an uber. what’s your address?” 

satoru reaches up, his fingertips brushing your wrist, as he snatches your phone and places it flat on the bar. 

“no thank you.” 

“toji will kick you out, you know. and he doesn’t even know you like that, he’ll probably be really mean since he has a wife to get back home to and all.” 

satoru snorts. 

“then i’ll just go to another bar. i’m not going home.” 

you groan, noting that of course he was going to be stubborn about this too, and that whatever it was in your chest – pity, you suppose – was making you so insistent on making sure he didn’t die from alcohol poisoning tonight. 

“what’s so bad about your pretty penthouse?” you ask. 

he huffs a sigh. 

“there’s pictures of anne marie everywhere. and i fucking hate that bitch.” 

you snort, hearing such choice words about the barbie doll that you never had the pleasure of meeting, as you hop off the stool. you figured he was going to be more of the emotional drunk – crying and whining – rather than cursing her very existence. 

“okay, c’mon. i know somewhere you can go.” 

--

you feel bad for him as the night goes on. because he’s so drunk that he’s sobbing the entire drive back to your apartment, a horrendous mix of drunk ramblings about how honda civics are actually nicer than he expected and how he didn’t even know that this part of the city existed. your previous thoughts about emotional drunks were completely revoked. 

he leans his entire weight on you as you drag him into the elevator, plopping him down on the couch, as you task yourself with making him a green smoothie before letting him pass out into the abyss. it’ll help with the raging hangover you’re positive that he’s going to have tomorrow – and you hope that it means he’ll spare you some kindness the following morning, for saving him from his imminent death and all. 

you change into your comfy pajamas as the smoothie blends – a loose old dartmouth t-shirt and shorts – and pour it into a glass. you take a deep breath, bracing yourself, as you make your way back to the couch where satoru’s peeled his sport jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt nearly halfway down. you make it a point to not ogle his perfectly chiseled body. 

“alright, satoru. this will help with your hangover tomorrow, just drink it really fast because it tastes horrible.” you state. 

satoru looks over at you, completely unfazed by the green drink you hand him, and decides that he’s very shamelessly going to check you out. you can see it in his eyes – the way they follow your bare legs and your mismatched socks, before he looks back up at you and frowns. 

“am i that fucking pathetic that you’re helping me?” he asks. 

you grin. 

“yes.” you respond. 

satoru appreciates the honesty, gulping down the thick and tart smoothie that you made him, and slams the glass down on the coffee table after the fact. he wipes the residue on the back of his hand and shrinks into the couch – and you can’t help but shiver at how normal he looks. 

it’s the first time that you’ve understood it, why everyone thinks he’s so attractive. he has soft and full cheeks, striking blue eyes that go perfectly with his snow white hair. a few freckles dot his nose. 

“well, let’s hear it. make all the fun you fucking want.” satoru murmurs. 

you roll your eyes. 

“do you think i’m a bitch? i don’t kick people when they’re down. something you’re wholly unfamiliar with, i’m well aware.” 

“you have no problem doing it in the office.” he states. 

you scoff. 

“you always start it. you can’t really get mad when i start dishing it back. and i’m a little bit better than you. i won’t make comments about you now that pretty malibu barbie’s broken your heart now because i have a shred of decency.” 

satoru scoffs. 

“you’ll just do it tomorrow, when i’m keen enough to fight back .” he states. 

you sigh, leaning back on the couch, as you look up at the wallpaper pressed to the ceiling. it’s slightly peeling and you make a mental note to replace it when you get the time – which knowing you, you probably never will. 

he was impossible. 

when you look over at him, his eyes fixed to the peeling wallpaper too, but with glimmering tears sprinkling out of his eyes, though they’re slower and quieter than the sobs that he was heaving in the car. you wonder how much he really had to drink. 

“you need to replace your wallpaper. it’s coming off.” satoru seethes. 

“okay.” you respond. 

you look back at the ceiling. you could give him some advice too. 

“you should stop dating gold diggers.” you state. 

he rolls his eyes. 

“how was i supposed to know she was a gold digger?” he asks. 

you laugh. 

“it’s not normal to buy your girlfriend’s entire wardrobe. and her car. and her..”

“okay, okay, okay. it was a gift!” he defends. 

“you know, normal people get a giftcard and call it a day. or a candle from target.” you respond. 

there’s a whisper of a smile on satoru’s face as he sighs, before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“okay, well. i was trying to be sweet. her love language was giving gifts.” 

you snort. 

“shocker.” you deadpan. 

he reaches for the closest cushion, before smacking it straight across your chest. you’re quick to snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest, as the two of you stick back to the silence. 

“so what do i do?” he asks. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i dunno. never done a break up before. she was like my first girlfriend.” 

you would understand it. you would, you suppose, if that was something you could relate to. being so in love that you can’t be with anyone else. but then again, that lingering question would always come back to you – how could you know that this person was the one if you hadn’t tried anything else? 

in your very limited experience in your very short life, one thing always rang true – that the more time you took to learn, to experience, the better things seemed to get. you had a bunch of shit friends in high school and now you’re friends with yuuji. you had four different majors before you picked marketing because it let you be creative. you’ve dated four different guys but you’re still looking for the one. 

that’s why you didn’t understand it – how people could be so one and done, on something so serious. granted, that’s probably how they end up with gold diggers. 

“do you have anything of hers?” you ask. 

satoru gives you a strange look, before digging his hand in his pocket, and fishing out his wallet. he opens up the little zipper, yanking a little silver necklace out of the leather, and placing it into the palm of your hand. 

you feel your eyes widen a little bit, sparkling diamonds set in a little circular mother of pearl design, as you run your fingers over it. you shake yourself out of it, looking over at him resting his forearms against his knees, expectantly waiting for an answer. 

“real cute. go throw it out of my window.” you state, handing it back to him. 

“i beg your pardon?” 

“so a window is an opening in the wall or roof that…” you start. 

he lightly shoves you, before clutching the necklace in his fist. 

“i can’t throw it out. it’s fucking expensive.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“that means nothing to you. you’re not throwing it away because you still like raggedy anne.” 

“raggedy anne?” he asks. 

“yuuji, katie, and i call her that. red hair kind of set that one up for us but…” 

his eyes widen, as he leans forward. 

“do you guys not like her?” he asks. 

you shrug, as you stand up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as you pull him closer to the window. the question catches you off guard – that he would care what the three of you would think. 

you peek your head out the window –  a few cars still milling on the street, the lights lazily changing, as he joins you and sticks his head out the window. 

“i can’t, honey bee.” he states. 

“yes, you can. it’s just a necklace.” 

“but what if she wants it back?” he asks. 

you fight the urge to slap him, as you stick your head back into the warmth of the apartment. he follows suit. 

“you would go back to her?” you ask. 

“i dunno. i –” 

“she would probably only want to get back together so she can get this fucking necklace back. because she’s a gold digger! screw her, surely you could do better than that!” 

satoru frowns, as he peaks out of the window again. and he makes the motion like he’s going to throw it before he looks back at you, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. 

“it’s limited edition. maybe i should sell it and –” 

“no. you’re going to throw it out of the window right now, on the count of three.” 

“i really don’t want to. we should do something easier first.” he whines.

“one.” you state. 

he panics. surely he couldn’t be serious. 

“this can’t be how normal people cope. i could hit someone and give them a black eye..” 

“two.” you scold. 

“maybe i don’t want to be a normal person. i think that this is all –” 

“three.” 

you snatch the necklace out of his open palm and throw it straight out of the window. it makes a little clinking sound when it finally hits the bottom, the two of you poking your heads out of the window to now see it tangled in the sewage gutter that’s been dirtied by the recent rain. 

“you threw her necklace.” satoru states, in exasperation. 

“when normal people can’t do it on their own, a trusted friend does it to keep them in line.” you state, pushing back into the apartment and wiping your hands. 

satoru follows behind you, his steps featherlike, as you reach for his phone and start scrolling through the contacts. he’s leaning his head over your shoulder, eyes wide as you pull up anne marie’s contact and hold it out to him. 

“you’re going to make me block her too?” he asks. 

“no. you should call her once and say some mean stuff and then block her.” 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“mean stuff?” 

“call her. tell her she’s a gold digger. that you think her voice is annoying or something.” you add. 

satoru crosses his hands over his chest. 

“that’s not very mature.” 

“okay, but you’re back in dog years since you’ve been dating this girl forever. plus, i’d say it’s immature to be in a god knows how long relationship with someone just for their money. does she have any consideration for you?” 

satoru pauses, like he’s mulling the thought over. 

“if you don’t do it, you’re going to become even more weird and repressed than you are now.” you state 

“i’m not repressed!” he whines. 

“be immature! say a bunch of bullshit and then hang up! you’ll feel great – you…you’re supposed to do these types of things at least once. this is like a rite of passage.” 

satoru gives you a weary look as you lean forward, pressing the dial button. his eyes go wide as you start whispering, gesturing for him to do it. 

“hello? satoru?” anne marie says, voice confused.

there’s a considerable amount of sound behind the speaker, loud booming music making it very clear that raggedy anne is at the club while satoru’s moping it out in your apartment. 

“do it.” you whisper. 

“hi annie.” satoru murmurs. 

you roll your eyes at the nickname. 

“did you want something satoru?” she asks. 

“yeah. yeah, i just wanted to say…” satoru starts. 

“hold on one second.” she says. 

there’s a murmuring over the speaker, which she’s clearly covered, as you start whispering. tell her she’s annoying! she won’t even give you the time of day on a phone call!! 

“sorry, i’m back. i’m on a date right now so i was just trying to slip away.” 

satoru looks up at you. 

“you’re a bitch.” he murmurs. 

you fight the urge to laugh. 

“what did you say?” anne marie responds. 

“you’re a bitch.” he says louder. 

“good! say it again!” you whisper. 

satoru has the whisper of a smile on his face, the silent support goading him on, as he keeps talking. 

“you…you’re annoying. you have a really high pitched voice and every time you wake up in the morning, it gives me an ear splitting headache. and you…you look horrible in blue.”  

the choice of words is a little middle school, but you’ll give it to him. there was a first time for everything. 

“say something else.” you whisper. 

“is that a girl?” anne marie asks.

you both widen your eyes, before satoru quickly hangs up and start laughing. you note that for your standards that was horrendously tame, but the glint in his eyes seems to signify that it’s at least done something for him, because it’s the first time he properly smiles after entering your apartment. 

“how was that?” 

“fucking great! she sounded like an idiot!” he responds. 

“she sure did.” 

“now she’s probably wondering which girl i’m with and working herself over it.” he responds. 

you shake your head, pulling out the sheets to make the fold out bed for him properly, before you make your way back over to your own room. screaming middle school insults seems to sober him up enough, because he joins you in folding the sheets, a smile on his face. 

“have you done that before?” he asks. 

“done what?” you ask. 

“throw stuff out like that? call an ex-boyfriend?” 

you smile. 

“mhm. my first boyfriend irritated me so bad that i took everything he ever gave me – a dried up bouquet of flowers, a necklace, birthday cards and all that type of stuff – and threw it in a trash can outside of the bank i go to. and the calling, i did that once when my ex-boyfriend decided to go to san diego for a trip instead of meeting up with me. he made it pretty clear for a week that we were going to break up on that day and i had hyped myself up for it, just for him to not show up. so i got pissed and called him then and there.” you state. 

satoru’s floored.

“really? that’s such a dick move.” 

“i mean, s’pretty standard.” 

you’ve been on the carousel of assholes your entire life. but satoru shakes his head. 

���i can’t believe someone would even do that. that’s unusually cruel.” 

you forgot about that part. that with having experienced next to nothing, there’s a sense of naivety that comes with it too. 

or hope. whichever word speaks to you more – and at the current moment, it’s the latter, only because he seems so genuinely downtrodden by it – so genuinely believing that people are meant to be good and kind that he can’t fathom someone being mean and selfish just for the sake of it. 

you feel bad for him. 

“that it is. almost as cruel as dating someone just for their money.” you respond. 

satoru sighs. 

“yeah.” 

“that’s kind of the cool part now.” you respond. 

“what is?” 

you sit down flat on the bed, the sheets nicely tucked in and folded, as you pat the little spot next to you on the bed. he obliges, his legs stretching out a considerable distance past yours, as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“this is going to sound really weird, but some day you’re going to agree with me.” you state. 

“okay.” 

“you’re going to feel a lot of things in the next few months. and then after the fact, when you’re really truly over it, you’re going to realize how real all of that was.” 

“meaning?” 

you shrug. 

“you’re going to mope and listen to sad songs for a while. and those songs are going to hit like they’ve never hit before, you’re going to realize people have been writing about this exact feeling that you’re experiencing for years. you’ve just gone through a shared experience that almost everyone has, no matter who they are, of getting your heart shattered.” 

satoru’s never thought of it that way. granted, he’s only been thinking about it for three days, but still. 

“then you’re going to be pissed. you’re going to do a bunch of stupid stuff and you might even regret it a little bit, but that’s part of learning more about yourself. maybe you really do like to have the last word. maybe you can’t fathom it at all, seeing that person ever again. either way, you’re going to figure out something about yourself and it’s going to make it all the more worth it. that’s part of this entire thing – experiencing something new, doing things three, four, five times and fucking up each time, just to…get something out of it. figure out whatever you’ve got going on in this thing.” you respond, flicking at his forehead. 

satoru rubs the spot, glaring at you, as you shoot him a smile. 

“there’s no point in doing anything once. you’re going to live a really long life, were you really only going to date and love one girl the entire time? i know you must have more to give than that.” you state. 

“do you not believe in marriage?” he asks. 

you frown. 

“who said i don’t believe in marriage?” 

“i mean, you seem like so…hippie dippie. i get what you’re saying and…and i’m even inclined to believe you’re right…but where does that stop? you can’t go on experiencing things and people and loving forever?” 

you smile. 

“why do you think so little of marriage? do you really think all of that stops once you enter a relationship with someone?” 

satoru freezes. 

“you keep doing that stuff, but with the person you know is meant for you. clearly your relationship with raggedy anne must have been really, very boring, because getting to do new things together is the fun part. i’d argue that it’s even the point of even being together – growing into something new.” 

satoru thinks you're wise. he thinks that he’s still leftover drunk and whatever it is you’re saying is coming out like poetry to him, that it’s singing to the tune that’s been going on in the background of his head for the past year, because really – his relationship was very boring. 

it had gotten monotonous. maybe he stayed because he didn’t know anything different. maybe that’s why he was so obsessed with stalking your every move – making sly comments, finding mistakes in your reports - just because you were always so keen to give him a different answer, one he couldn’t predict, the only constant thing about you being that you were always different. 

“your brain looks like it’s working overtime. you should go to bed.” you state. 

“okay, yeah.” 

satoru is still drunk. somewhat drunk. maybe a little. 

it’s why he leans forward, to press a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. he notes that your eyes go wide, as you immediately lift your hand to press your fingers to the skin, your cheeks flushing pink. 

“i was hoping you were going to give me like a thousand dollars or something as a gift for being nice to you.” 

satoru grins. because again, it wasn’t the answer he was expecting at all. 

“i could do that too.” he states. 

you roll your eyes, before reaching forward to pinch his cheek. 

“shut up.” 

“you’re pretty.” 

you’re taken aback by the comment, leaning back to cross your hands over your chest, as you eye him again. messy hair, swollen eyes, and pink lips from the drinks. 

“you’re not that bad either. you look way better like this.” 

“like this?” 

“you know…no fancy mousse. creepy perfectly tailored suit. having a proper meltdown and all. not to be rude, but your distress might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” 

satoru scoffs. 

“you’re just jealous that i look so great all the time.” 

you shake your head. 

“not at all. i’m not into that at all – the whole perfect, rich boy thing.” 

satoru leans forward, eyes wide. 

“what are you into?” he asks. 

you smile. 

“did you really crash your car?” you ask. 

he groans. 

“you know about that?” 

you laugh. 

“i’m into that. you being a real person. i think you’re very funny when you’re drunk and you have the insults of a middle schooler. your hair looks very good when it’s all messed up like this and your very genuine enthusiasm and curiosity is very refreshing.” 

“yeah?” satoru whispers, a glint in his eyes. 

“mhm. don’t lose sleep over it, okay?” you respond, pinching his cheek as you shuffle your way over to your room. 

satoru watches as you retreat, your mismatched socks riding up to your ankles, and he can’t help but wonder if you’re right. if he had missed out. 

he hadn’t done anything. anything at all. you were three feet away – with an entire life he knew nothing about. the little scars on your arms were all a story, maybe from pulling something out of the stove too fast or falling on the pavement, and he can’t help but wonder what it all was. 

if he could still gain it all, after years of falling behind. 

satoru was always an overachiever. he was going to do this, he was going to do this now. 

satoru stands up, legs carrying him to the door of your bedroom, as he firmly knocks on the wood. he hears something that sounds like a thud, before you swing the door open, your eyes adjusting to the brightness outside to find him standing there. 

“it’s been one minute.” you deadpan. 

“can i sleep with you?” 

“i beg your pardon?” 

satoru sighs. 

“i’ve never slept in the same bed as someone.” 

“huh? you and raggedy anne never…” 

he shakes his head. 

“i mean, like once, but it was by accident. my penthouse has two beds and i don’t know what it feels like to…sleep next to someone.” 

you pause. and let your curiosity get the better of you. 

“are you a virgin?” 

“i am not a virgin.” 

you laugh at the irritation in his voice, before holding the door open wider and gesturing for him to walk into the room. 

“my bed isn’t that big.” you state. 

“that’s okay. just…please? let me?” 

you assume that saying no would be equivalent to kicking a dog while it’s down. it’s what you reason to yourself as you let him in, watching as he giggles at your stuffed animals and your glasses in the nightstand before he wraps his arms around you, his embrace warm around you. 

you swear he kisses your hairline. 

“did you just kiss me again?” 

“hey. i’m experiencing new things. i’ve got tons of places i have to kiss you on my list.” 

you snort.

“you’re bold.” you state. 

“and you’re really very sweet. i really like you, you know that?” 

you roll your eyes, before leaning back into his touch. it’s so innocent, so unlike any other guy you’ve talked too – so excited about kissing you on the top of your head. 

maybe it’s a little bit less pity than you anticipated. 

“do you ever think i could do that?” he asks. 

“do what?” 

“what you’re talking about? doing things four, five, six times…growing with someone and all that?” he asks. 

you sigh, before placing one of your hands over his. 

“yes, satoru. of course you can.” 

--

the following monday, you’re greeted by a little box on your desk. you open it up to a giftcard and four target candles, accompanied with a little note and his horrible chicken scratch handwriting. 

honey bee,  heard normal people give gift cards and candles as gifts. but i’m indecisive so there’s four candles. also, they’re custom made and really expensive so don’t throw them out to sass me or make a point or something :O  satoru 

and you see him an hour later, a cup of the cheap office coffee in his hand, as he walks around talking to everyone in the office. his tie is a little bit loose and his hair is unstyled – and you think that it’s interesting, that he had taken what you had said to heart. and your previous thought stands. 

that he really does look better this way. 

he makes his way over after twenty minutes, leaning down and basically pressing his cheek to yours as he looks at your monitor. 

“did you check your math?” he asks. 

“do you want me to shove a pencil down your throat?” you ask. 

satoru laughs and you can’t help but smile. 

“did you like my gift?” 

“yes. but i have a few notes.” 

satoru stands up properly, leaning against your desk with his hands crossed over his chest, as he gestures for you to talk. 

“do tell.” 

“when i say candle, i really do mean one candle. and you know, i meant like an eight dollar candle. like the shit ones that give you allergies.” 

“candles can give you allergies?” 

“i get watery eyes when they aren’t soy or natural.” you state.

“noted. what else?” 

“when i say gift card, i mean twenty bucks. not two thousand dollars.” 

satoru whines. 

“so many rules. you’re so high maintenance, honey bee.” he whines, cupping your chin in his hand and squeezing once, before shuffling back to his office. 

--

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetnertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytuckyy @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga @skunabby @meisque @hoseokslefteyebrow @yoontaedotin

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny!!! can i submit a request for kevin magnussen? something like a mafia!au where he’s big and scary except for when he’s with reader?💞

kevin magnussen

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!kevin, size difference/kink, doggy style, protective!kevin, reader doesn't know he's mafia, creepy men, mentions of blood and violence, body worship

thank you lovely anon for this idea! i know i usually get bakery submissions, but i do accept other ideas you might have! so this was a pleasant surprise in my inbox!

coming to copenhagen wasn't on your bucket list of dreams. while it was for some, you only took the job because the hours were better. and after a nasty break up only a few months prior, it felt like a good idea to be in another part of the globe. while you missed family, there was something about the unknown that made you pack your belongings (and cat) and head to denmark.

you knew living abroad would have its risks. they were put to rest when you met a tattooed gentleman with the kindest eyes. his name was kevin, kevin magnussen

kevin was an interesting man. you had met him after a blind date fell through and he was at a nearby table by himself. he was waiting for 'friends', but didn't mind spending some time with you. before his 'friends' arrived he ordered you some dessert for after your meal.

he also slipped you a business card and said, "if you need anything in this city, let me know." then smiled at you. the address on the card led to a mechanics shop and kevin told you he owned and "worked" here, but you never saw too many cars come through.

but any questions were met with smiles and promises. you felt a little safer in the city when you were kevin. you one time asked him, "it seems like everyone looks at you when we walk together. or maybe i'm just imagining things."

even though you became accustomed to the public transport of the city. kevin was more than happy to pick you up or drop you off even places like the grocery store. you didn't want to think about all the times he bought you groceries. one time he made you grab another pack of salmon and not to look at the cost. he told you that you can freeze it for a few months. your throat tightened when you saw the price at the check out. but kevin simply paid without a second glance.

maybe you were used to people in your country being paid pennies. you chalked everything up to better wages in denmark.

  “you don't have to pay for things, kevin! really, this job i do pays well enough.” you held onto the front of his zip-up jacket as he carried your groceries back to your apartment. you still didn't know what he saw in you. but, if you couldn't give him the money back, then you'd simply have to keep him smiling. not that it was hard, even your worst jokes made him laugh and wrap his arms around you.

kevin seemed weird, but you found it endearing. when he was all smiles with you, in front of the family he was serious. he could be cold, methodic, dangerous. the light that he brought into your world were the same as the shadows he put into the underbelly of the city. people looked when you went down the street, because it wasn't very often to see him out on the streets. especially with someone so…. cute. 

but, there was something that lingered inside of the danish man you met. kevin saw it with his own two eyes when he entered the bar to meet with you one night. he saw a man at your table trying to chat you up. even with your back turned to kevin, he knew you were uncomfortable. nobody liked unwanted sexual advances.

but you weren't budging giving this man an inch, instead waving him off and eventually he took the cue to leave. but not before he touched you at the small of your back which made you lean away from him in disgust.

kevin saw your mouth move and then take a sip of your drink. at least kevin knew that you could stand up for yourself a little bit. at least enough to get this creep to go away.

eventually he did and when he walked away, kevin followed. no one was touching his girl. you were your own woman of course, you did as you pleased with kevin's support. but, most of the city should've know by now. you were under magnussen protection.

you were too occupied with your drink when the man left for you to notice that kevin had saw the entire thing. and instead of meeting you at your table, he followed the man in the washroom.

kevin wasn't the mechanic he told you he was. the tattoos weren't just from the lifestyle of fixing cars. they all meant something, his past, present and future. his family. his life. the head of an important family in the country. he rolled up his sleeves and the man who was flirting with you noticed him.

"almost done, man." he said as he turned off the tap and shook his hands to dry them. kevin crossed the small bathroom and instantly his fist was in the other man's face. causing him to sprawl out on the tiled floor of the bathroom.

kevin got on one knee down to the other man's level. he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and said, "don't, don't, don't yell." he pulled the bloodied man a little closer, his nose obviously broken, "you're going to leave this place. and you're not going to come back. you do not touch a woman without her permission."

"but i-"

"shh, shh, shh. i saw what you clipped to the back of her pants. a tracker? gps? going to follow her home? kidnap her? sell her? answer me." his voice was firm.

the man looked shaken and bleeding, he was trembling like a leaf at the end of fall. kevin was dangerously close, but didn't want to get blood all over himself. he didn't want you to worry.

"keep yourself out of here. if you don't. not even your dental records will be able to identify you. and if you want a date so badly, stop being a fucking creep." then dropped the man and got up.

the man nodded before he propped himself up against the bottom of the sink. he wiped his bleeding nose and before he could get a word in, kevin was gone.

"min elskede!" kevin's words could be heard and made you look over. you perked up a little bit as your boyfriend sat across from you. you were all smiles now in his presence.

"what happened to your hand?" you asked as you carefully took his hand in yours. you examined the red across his knuckle.

kevin rubbed the top of your head with his other hand, "oh, nothing. i wasn't looking at got it right at the corner of a door. you can kiss it if you want?"

you giggled a little then brought his knuckle to your lips, "what would you do without me, kevin?"

"oh, i don't know. i'd be lost." he smiled back at you.

-

back at your apartment, you were trying to get your socks off. they had little flowers printed on them and were a lovely pair. but it was hard with kevin's lips on your skin.

you squirmed a little and broke the kiss, "please, honey. let me get my clothes off." then burst into giggles when his lips got onto your neck. you ran your fingers through his hair and laughed.

"i can't help it, you're so beautiful." he admitted before he managed to pry himself away from you to let you get undressed. as he undid his button up shirt, he watched you struggle to get out of your jeans and chuckled softly to himself. beautiful little thing you were.

"oh shush." you said as you slipped off your panties, feeling kevin's eyes on you, "i'm alright looking. nothing to write home about."

he took you and pulled him to your chest. he kept those strong arms around you, as if he didn't punch a guy in the face earlier that evening. but, that was simply a part of his life. he had a punch that could kill, but with you. he was so sweet.

eventually you wiggled out of his grasp and got yourself in a further state of undress. soon you naked body was exposed to him and you could feel his hungry gaze on you.

you said as you looked at him, "i'm not a piece of meat, honey."

he reached for you and pulled your naked body next to his. he kissed at your face with such love and said, "of course you're not. you're too important to be meat." then trailed kisses across your body.

you laughed, "oh, c'mon!" you squirmed a little bit and arched your back. your nails rubbed against his scalp. his hips shifted a little bit and his cock rubbed against your thigh.

he knew that if anyone in the family saw him in that moment, they'd think he was a totally different man. the mean boss of the family was reduced to getting head scratches while he worshiped your breasts with his lips.

he said sweet things against you, watching your squirm when his tongue touched your left nipple. he watched your reaction for a moment before he closed his eyes and started to really suck on it. leaving wet trails behind.

his large hands kneaded your breasts and he felt his back arch against you. you felt hot all over and you moaned a little louder. two lovers naked in bed together.

you ran your hands up and down his shoulders, you knew both arms were heavily tattooed. you moaned against his lips before he pulled away and moved away from you. he got you onto your elbows and knees with your ass in the air.

he groped your ass cheek a little bit as he stroked his cock a little bit before he got closer to you once more and rubbed his hard cock up against your slick pussy. he listened to your sweet noises which only excited him more when he slipped his cock in. the angle let him get quite deep inside of you.

"kev!" your back arched a little, "oh. wow! every time." you hit your fist against the bed for a moment. your back arched a little more and you held onto the covers under you.

kevin licked his lips as he kept both hands on you. he loved the feeling of your cunt around his cock. it was his little slice of heaven. all the money from being in the family was something, but to have your sweetness around him made everything feel so much better.

"you're so pretty." he said softly, "you are the most gorgeous thing i had ever laid eyes on. i think about you all day, how much i love you and care for you." he pressed his chest agaisnt your back, then kissed at the back of your shoulders as he rutted against you.

he could feel the pound of his heart as he continued to move against you. his breathing was heavy against your skin as you buried your face into the soft pillows. the pillows he bought for you because you talked so much about how they were just so soft. and you hated to admit that since sleeping with them, your sleeps have improved.

he watched you move a little bit and whine into the covers. you sounded so pretty as he rutted against you. he kissed your shoulders once more.

"please, kev. honey!" you whined.

"you're so beautiful, my love."

his movements continued and the heat in the room grew, especially between the two of you. you could feel the sweat of his chest on your back as he wrapped his arms around you. he kept you close to him as he picked up the pace.

he pushed your further into the bed and worked at your hips. his cock slipped in and out of you perfectly. you were a dream around his cock. the creaking of the bed under you as the two of you made love under the low light of your bedroom.

it was comfortable, it wasn't painful in every way. and it was so good to feel your lover so closely. you panted heavily into the pillows and clutched it tightly. your noises were muffled as he moved. he pressed further into you and knew he wasn't going to last long.

a man capable of such violence was so docile around you. he wanted you so badly. he needed you more than he needed almost anything. his heart sang for you, and when he was away he tried to get home to you as soon as possible.

the dangerous life was common for him, but he didn't want to scare you off. if you knew the truth, would you hate him? would you run away or to the police? would you leave kevin?

he loved you so much, the idea of losing you made him almost scared. he pressed into you as much as he could and fucked you with heavy thrusts. he heard you pant heavily into the covers as he felt the pleasure in his brain.

you whined more as you felt orgasm hit you like a train. you said to your lover, "please, kevin. i love you."

he kissed your cheek and said, "good. because i love you too." then gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with one final movement of his hips. he came with a groan before he slowed to a stop. he rested his face against your shoulder and just let himself feel you for a moment.

"i love you so much." you groaned.

kevin slipped out of you and laid out beside you. you laid next to him and let him wrap himself up around you. like a protective blanket. he pressed soft kisses against you and melted against your heated skin.

he said with his voice close to your ear, "i promise to protect you forever." then kissed the shell of your ear, "all of my days and all of my nights."

you giggled and turned in his arms, "sounds like you're trying to propose to me." your cheeks warmed at the thought.

he smiled down at you, "maybe, but i'll need a ring first." maybe he'll slowly let you into his world. to be closer to him than ever. he wanted you for a lifetime, to love you was an honour as he kept you in his arms while you both calmed down from your climaxes, "it's a secret for now." he said, "have to give you a little surprise."

you buried your face in his chest and giggled, "oh my god, kevin!" you squirmed a little bit on the bed, "you don't need to propose! really! i'm fine being your girlfriend." the idea of marriage made your cheeks hot!

he held your back and smiled into your hair, "even if it is just a ring, you deserve something nice. and if it is pretty enough then no idiot men at the bar will try to make you uncomfortable." he thought about the tracker he took off of you. being married to you was the end goal, but to protect you was a constant in his mind.

he kissed you, tomorrow he'll go ring shopping before his meetings. it'll be a hard choice to pick the perfect ring, but only the best for you. <3

[chocsra]

"Held like Glass, Kissed Alike"

chuuya x fem! reader - how he holds you 🙇‍♀️

a/n: to all my physical touch bbgs 🫶

content: how chuuya holds you, kissing, holding hands, fluff, drabble/small oneshot, smug! chuuya, soft! chuuya, not proofread, prolly grammar errors

"chuuya! hold my bag while you're at it!"

'cocky demands from a cocky person', chuuya thinks. "tsk," he tuts--the downpour of rain at the moment was horrific, especially in a city, a populated, developed, city drowned in sad puddles of slushy water. you and your trusted friend, chuuya nakahara, had came to go shopping, and unbeknownst to the subsequent downfall, you both stupidly didn't bring an umbrella.

so when the rain fell, he swiftly grabbed the closest umbrella in one of the restaurant's stands, successfully covering the both of you. chuuya is one of your close friends, and even though he's slightly annoyed most of the time and yaps a whole lot, he's also decently reliable.

you on the other hand, felt like you needed to make his life worse, a living hell. wanting to feel like those clingy girlfriends in romcoms, you pulled down your purse and dramatically handed it to him. watching as his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "might as well hold my bag while you're at it!" and yes, even with a baffled scoff, the redhead still held your bag for the rest of the day.

"i just realised, why do you always wear gloves?"

a romantic tune of jazz sung in the air, fancy clinks and clanks of cutlery swang past as you and your now fellow date, chuuya nakahara, sat in one of the finest restaurants in yokohama.

the ginger chews on his food intently, elbow planted on the table as he takes two gloved fingers, and motions you to come closer. you cock a brow, leaning forward, ear facing him.

"got a nasty case of athletes foot, but on my fingers." that's one way to swoon you, great work chuuya. the mafioso wiggles his eyebrows sarcastically watching as you sink away back into your seat. "thank you s'much," you reply, now picking at your food, "think I just lost my appetite."

the redhead snickers and pinches the tip of his gloves in between his teeth, removing it. "I'm joking, here." he smirks, a large hand urging you to place yours atop of his. you follow, feeling the warmth of his palms spread to yours, his hands were pretty damn big, bigger than a lot of men despite of his height.

"you like holding hands, hm?" the mafiosos smirks playfully as you try to hide the big smile creeping on your lips. he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, gently looking as the moonlight illuminates your eyes focused on your hands. chuuya felt damn lucky he could ever get someone to look at him like that. the redhead darts his eyes back to you and your interlocked hands, whispering, "i do too, it's okay." even though chuuya was a terrifying mafia executive, he couldn't help but hide the boyish smile as he held your hand in between his fingers, feeling as your soft skin smooths over his rarely bare, lithe hands.

"this is rush hour in public transit, would ya look at that?"

you beam a light-hearted smile at the redhead beside you, in one of the most crowded subways. sweat and humid air pierced through, and so did the amount of space you could breathe in. chuuya nakahara, your newly and beloved boyfriend, hasn't taken public transportation in years. so he wasn't used to the crushing claustrophobia of other people at all, you, on the other hand seemed rather desensitized to it. smiling and rambling about how 'it's not that bad'. the redhead could only scoff in return, his right hand tightening on the bar for support.

"actually," you continue, clutching your purse in your left hand, "you haven't been here in a while, have you?" you smirk teasingly, causing chuuya to groan in annoyance at your words. the subway doors opening yet again, "well, consider this your fir--"

a new line of bustling people rammed into the compartment, as they filled the station, you stepped back in oblivion, almost seperating you and your fellow company. but with a calculated pull, chuuya hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, thumb rubbing at your side.

the mafioso lets out a dramatic sigh, "yeah, well? continue?" you look at him in a surprised gaze, eyes darting to the hand still tugged around your waist, even as the sea of other people weren't in threat of a stampede anymore. you felt a knot twist in your stomach as chuuya cocks a brow at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "shit, well, now i forgot."

"opinion on people who sleep with socks on?"

you weren't so used to grand gestures in general, but every month your boyfriend, chuuya nakahara, surprised you with something new just because you could deal with his shit. this month, he took you stargazing, with a small theme park next to your designated spot. neon arcade lights reflected off your face and eyes as he took a gloved hand and brushed away some strands with an ever soft graze of his fingers.

you, feeling foreign to the affectionate brush of his fingers, smile tugging at his lips, eyes rested on yours, asked the most random and stupid question that popped in your head. "what's your opinion on people who sleep with socks on?" the ginger chuckles softly at your question, still cupping your cheek, watching as your eyes drag away to anything but him. "shut up already." chuuya smiles boyishly, which reminds you of his raw humanity every once in a while. you hum in a quipped agreement before stiffling a laugh.

"happy not-so-ani-aniversary, pretty girl." chuuya's pillowy lips come down on your left cheek, leaving a soft peck as his thumbs grazes against the side of your face. his lips then connect to your right cheek, making your pinch one of your eyes shut as the redhead pecks your nose. uncontrollably smiling as you giggle, pushing your hair to the side as he presses his soft lips against your forehead, bringing yourselves down.

the mafioso brings you in closer, "i love you." he mutters, as he connects your lips to his. a soft fluttering in his stomach occurs as he feels you smile against his lips, taking his fingers in between your hair as he smooths through it. he was truly enamoured, enchanted, beyond bewitched. chuuya took in how good it feels to have you, a girlfriend, an asshole, a companion.

from every place he held, it was always just you. chuuya knew, that if his fingers fit so perfect in the interlocking of yours, curled around your waist, or cupping your cheek, he was meant to hold you. to be yours, as they say.

a/n: sorry for my vanishing bbgs, ill upload more at christmas break😔😔

[loveisonlyforthebrave8]

i'm heading to thailand in a few weeks and it's my first time so i was wondering if you have any tips for a first time traveller? i also want to try and see some of the bl actors - how did you manage to see so many? help?

First of all can I just say how incredibly envious I am you're going to Thailand soon. I'd give literally everything I have to be back there. I hope you have the best time. Because it was a fucking dream holiday for me.

I do have a few basic tips for you:

1.) Download the Grab app (Thailand's version of Uber). Trust me when I say it's going to be your best fucking friend. @bestillmyslashyheart and I had every intention of using public transport when we were there but the Grab app was so fucking cheap and it was generally the easiest/quickest option to get to all our intended destinations.

If you're a solo traveller I recommend the Grab Bikes, they're your best option for beating the truly HORRENDOUS Bangkok traffic at peak times and they barely cost more than 150 baht for journeys no longer than an hour (if you're from the UK that's about £3.50 per journey- truly wild)

Also, another note on travel, if its raining or between the hours of 3pm-8pm and grab tells you it will be a 40 minute journey, double it, Bangkok traffic is no fucking joke. Gridlock city centre.

You should also download the BKK app if you do plan to use public transport.

2.) Always carry cash on you. Most places in the city take credit/debit cards but there is usually a fee and having cash if you're in the more rural areas of Thailand is a must. We learnt that the hard way.

3.) Learn basic thai phrases. I made a list before we went and they came in so handy. If you want my list feel free to ask but here is a few we used a lot. Sawadee ka/krub (polite hello) Kop khun ka/krub (polite thank you) Kor tord ka/krub (polite sorry) Hong naam? (bathroom?) If you can't handle spice, like my white ass, you might want to learn the phrase for "no chilli" which is: Mai Sai Preek or "not spicy" which is: Mai Ped

4.) 7-Eleven will be your saving grace. There is a 7-Eleven on every fucking street. No word of a lie. They're everywhere. And they're so fucking cheap. You need a quick snack to keep you going before lunch? Go to 7-Eleven. 10/10 recommend their toasties. Also a great place to stock up on water. 6 baht (13p) for their branded water. Also, if you're a BL fan they have a lot of the BL branded items from the shows in there. It's where I found the Kinnporsche sex bread, the kp helicopter bj nose inhaler, the between us green tea drink, the bad buddy seaweed snack etc.

5.) If you're planning to visit the temples you need to be super respectful of their culture. The main thing to be aware of is wearing the appropriate clothing. It's really important to be respectful and cover yourself when you're visiting these sacred places. Also most temples you have to take your shoes off before you enter, so I suggest wearing easily slip on/off shoes for your temple days. My crocs were a godsend.

6. Icon Siam is a very fucking overwhelming place. If you don't do well in crowds or you struggle to navigate, I'd say avoid Icon Siam. It's Bangkok's biggest and busiest mall for a fucking reason. And trying to get a pick up from any of the malls is a literal nightmare. The smaller but no less impressive malls I recommend are Siam Paragon and Central World (only 5 mins walk from each other).

7.) If you go during rainy season (which you are) always have an umbrella or poncho to hand and wear weather appropriate shoes. because let me tell you when that rain hits, it hits hard and it hits fast, and those streets are flooded within minutes.

I think that's all for the basics. But I can go into more depth if you have any specific questions. My dms are always open.

For the BL specific events, you should absolutely be following all of the big production companies on either insta (where I got most of my info from), facebook, or twitter. Most of them post the artists schedules a week or two in advance so keep your eyes peeled for those updates and check your availablity- lots of the events happen in the malls.

I would also personally recommend getting to the event a few hours beforehand to scope out the best area to place yourself. The main trick is to follow the obvious fanclubs. They're always posting about where they are and always have light up signs of the actors name on them. And if people are sitting in groups by barriers, that is where you need to place yourself. Most of the events are very well organised and will have barriers already in place fo the best views.

Don't be afraid to ask. Some of the fans won't speak English, but a large majority do. There's no harm in asking if you're in the right place.

And also on that note, if you see girls running in one particular direction- follow them. They're usually headed to the event you're headed to and they know the way better than you do. It'll save so much time and you'll end up with a much better spot.

I think that's everything! Hope this helps! Let me know, and please come back and share your experiences! I'd love to hear all about it!!

[daekie]

i reblogged an oc ask meme from u and its only courteous to send questions! so here u go despite the fact we've never talked lol: ghost and betrayal for an oc of ur choice!

FAIR ENOUGH. FAIR ENOUGH. unfortunately ashton carver the vampire is taking up a lot of brain real estate and not even paying fucking rent (asshole. i’m getting art of him and maybe i’ll be able to think about other OCs after that) so ASHTON TIME

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts? Ashton has tried to make himself into a thing that isn’t bogged down by his ghosts and he’s kind of succeeded. Not really. Mostly she uses it as fuel, because -- You ever find out that you’re infected by the malevolent cells of your vampiric bloodline’s progenitor, that you pass those cells onto anyone you use your powers on, and that those cells are completely capable of transforming their host into an avatar of said progenitor? And that you might’ve been meant to be an avatar, but you’re more stubborn than god, so it didn’t work? And you used your powers on your ex, who’s now in a position of immense political and social weight? And you used your powers on your other party members? And your boss? And your friends? Because your powers were useful, and nobody else had them, and -- Sometimes they just kind of sit and think about it. About how on some level, that’s still part of why he’s doing this: it’s not just to have total control and agency over his own self. It’s because if she wants the people she cared about to be safe - from her, and from everything her bloodline entails -- she had to leave. They had to leave. And maybe if he gets strong enough, maybe if he burns his progenitor’s fucking blight from this world and from his blood, then maybe -- but monsters like him don’t retire. There isn’t an after. If she’s lucky she’ll go out in a blaze of glory and take that thing with her. But that underlying knowledge of what could happen always haunts her, right alongside the ghost of the person she used to be, back when she actually did care about them; back when she was human enough to care about one person like that. And then he goes off and summons a bunch of demons because that’s how we cope these days. There’s no therapy when you’re an internationally wanted vampiric criminal!! There’s just looking at yourself in the mirror and going YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT and then wearing your ex’s face next time you take public transport because you’re being so so so normal about those feelings you are pretending you do not have and can no longer understand.

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them? Hahaha. Haha. Ha. Betrayer, liar, murderer, devil-worshipper, soul-devourer, you gotta give her whole secondary subtitle all at once or you’re not being accurate, come on now.  All jokes aside, Ashton’s reputation for backstabbing and betrayal is mostly exaggerated, but you nonconsensually turn a man into the hulk to fight a demon and then immediately leave the city without saying goodbye + devour the soul of an ancient vampire for power + go on a mad quest for power involving mass murder + start worshipping demons once and he takes it so personally. The relationship is, uh, strained, but that’s kind of what tends to happen when you infect a guy with sentient vampire flesh cancer and then ghost him. They’re not friends anymore. Betrayal of Ashton herself, though... becoming a vampire was the big one. He really was in love, and he really did think the guy cared about him, and he really did trust the guy. Three months locked in a closet earning the privilege to have fingers or a mouth did pretty safely debunk the notion.

[atlaslimo1]

Family-Friendly Washington DC Bus Tours: What You Need to Know

Washington DC is a city rich in history, culture, and monumental hotspots; it is among the best destinations for families. However, sightseeing in this great city with children can be intimidating, especially when trying to see all the key attractions. Family-oriented Washington DC bus tours present an ideal option, delivering an enjoyable, informative, and convenient means for families to explore the capital. Here's what you need to know about these tours so that your entire family will remember the trip.

Why Choose Washington DC Bus Tours?

Washington DC Family-friendly bus tours are planned in a way to meet the needs of parents and children alike. The following points illustrate why they represent a superior choice:

Convenience: If you have young children with you, it can often be frustrating when trying to work your way around a busy city. With a bus tour, all the annoyances of needing to walk distances, find parking, or attempt to figure out public transportation don't exist, and you can simply sit back and enjoy the view.

Engaging for All Ages: Most of the tours involve interactive elements, fun facts, and kid-friendly commentary that make the experience enjoyable for the juveniles aboard. Guides are usually competent enough to keep children amused while giving information worth listening to for adults.

Comprehensive coverage: Family-friendly bus tours cover the major attractions in one fell swoop so you don't miss any of the key sites, from Washington Capitals Services, the National Mall through the White House. It means you can make the most of your time in the city without exhausting the kids.

Best Family-Friendly Washington DC Bus Tours

1. Washington DC Big Bus Hop-On Hop-Off Tour

The Big Bus tour is flexible and offers a facility to view the town with your family at your own pace. The facility of hop-on, hop-off is just what a family would want: stop where you feel interested and then board again when you feel like continuing.

Kid-Friendly Features: Special kids' channel with fun and educational commentary, great vistas kids love from atop the open-top buses. Best For: Families wanting flexibility/customization with their itinerary.

2. Old Town Trolley Tours

The cute, orange-and-green trolleys alone make Old Town Trolley Tours synonymous with them, while their guides are enchanting and really good with children. This tour covers all the major landmarks, with unlimited rebounding, which makes it so easy to hop off at sights that take your family's fancy.

Kid-Friendly Features: Lively guides often include jokes and stories that appeal to children. The trolley-style buses go down a treat with younger passengers.

Best for: Families who want an interactive, fun tour experience.

3. Monuments by Moonlight Night Tour

The guided, nighttime tour called Monuments by Moonlight is a great way for your family to view DC's monuments all aglow. This tour provides another dimension to the city-finely lit monuments and fewer crowds.

Kid-friendly element: The night landscape is just magical and a special treat for kids who can stay up just a little bit later. Best for: Families with older kids who'd love to experience the magic of DC at night.

4.DC Ducks Tour

The DC Ducks Tour is both exciting and something different, mingling a bus ride with a boat one. The amphibious vehicle travels along the road and then splashes into the Potomac River to take kids on an unforgettable ride of ups and downs.

Kid-Friendly Features: The transition from land to water itself is a great thing for kids, and the rather lively guides keep things pretty entertaining throughout. Best for: Families who want an exciting and different kind of sightseeing tour experience.

General Tips for a Successful Family-Friendly Bus Tour

Snacks and Water: Though most tours only usually last a few hours, having some snacks and something to drink readily available can be helpful, especially for younger children who may get hungry or thirsty along the way.

Wear Comfortable Clothing: While you will be on a bus, you will likely want to get off at a number of stops along the way, so make sure that everyone is wearing comfortable clothes and shoes.

Allow for Rest Stops: If your tour will include stops, use these to let your family make a bathroom stop and to stretch their legs.

Consider the Time of Day: Some tours are long, and considering the time that fits in with your child's routine may be helpful, thus avoiding nap times where possible.

Conclusion

Family-friendly bus tours in Washington DC are an excellent way to explore the city's rich history and landmarks without the stress of navigating on your own. From infant-friendly tours to those aimed at high school students, these options represent the kind of fun and educational experience that's very easy for a family to take in. Whether it's on and off at the sights, a silly ride on a trolley, or taking an amphibious vehicle for a cruise across the Potomac, these tours will make sure that your family's visit to the nation's capital is fun and memorable.

[hisfearlesshaz]

hii!! i’m the american anon that wants to move to italy! thank you so much for your input! i saw that you’ve also lived in the Netherlands and that’s a place i’ve also been recently considering as well!! could you tell me a bit about what it’s like to live there? i’ve heard that there’s a bit of a housing shortage as well in Amsterdam recently! do you think it’s difficult to get a job there if you aren’t from there? i also love how people seem to bike everywhere!! i’ve been studying italian for a few weeks because it’s definitely still one of my top choices. my plan is to move to the uk, then eventually make my way over to italy or the netherlands. i feel like that would be a little bit easier for me. did you like living in italy or the netherlands better? i think there will always be cons about every country you go to, but i think i would take the cons of italy, the netherlands, and the uk over the cons of the united states any day lol. thank you!!!! ❤️

Hi!! Glad to help hahah :)))

So! I actually lived in Belgium, not the Netherlands, but I LOVED it. Best six months of my life and I’m not even joking hahaha. I’ve been to the Netherlands and it’s basically the same except for the size because Belgium is reeeeally small. About the size of Maryland but with double the population. The train sister is quite good so you can reach every “big” city in 1h (there are like 3 big cities, so it’s not that hard really hahaha). I lived in Ghent which is in Flanders so they speak Flemish and Dutch (they’re kinda similar but don’t tell anyone I said that) and some also speak French. The weird thing about Belgium is that they have three official languages (French, Dutch, German) depending on the region but as I said to Gina it doesn’t really matter as everyone speaks English. Can’t have a damn private conversation in public ever even though you’re in a foreign country 😂

Belgium is like the less cool sister of the Netherlands but I think it’s very underrated!!!!! They’re very open and welcoming and progressive. Everyone bikes there as well 😂 you have to pay attention because bikes RULE and if you’re on foot you have to stop to let them through (which is absurd to me, being Italian, bc here you see a few bikes and THEY stop lol). Anyway the housing “crisis” is common in both countries, I think. Maybe a bit better in Belgium? Not sure though, sorry 🤷

As for job opportunities, I think it’s easier than in other places (now I’m talking about both countries). They’re very international, and obv it depends on what kind of job you’re looking for an show qualified you are but overall I think there’s a good job offer (my professor once told me that the province I was in had an employment rate of 80% in people aged 20-60). Again, idk anything specific about the Netherlands but I know more than one person that moved there and found a job quite easily compared to Italy.

Now! Moving on to Italy ;))

I can’t say I want to keep living here, honestly. The south is left behind, work is hard to find unless you’re somewhat specialised, the cost of living is levitating and the government sucks. However, we have a history of unstable governments so who knows how long it will last hahah

There are some new awful waves of homo/transphobia and hate crimes + being an ex fascist country that never truly went away completely. However it’s full of people that fucking hate fascists and nazis and manifest their disapproval regarding right wing parties (that are currently governing) and policies. I have to admit that I’m not that much into politics because I’m tiiiiiired of it being always the same shit if not worse and I think this is a widespread feeling (less and less people care and vote so this obviously makes everything get worse 💀).

The transportation is good only in big cities and between them, really. I lived 50km away from uni and it took me TWO HOURS with at least two different means of transportation. Now that I live in the city, though, I can go wherever I want very easily even though I’m in the outskirts. Milan (which is where I live and study haha) is beautiful, but very busy and definitely not the most beautiful city in the country. I like living here though, you have everything you need and more + the cultural scene is quite active and there are always events of any kind. I have to say it’s a bit more clean than, for example, Rome. It’s called the economical capital of Italy so as you can imagine finding a job here is easier than in other places. Many people from the south actually migrate up north to have better job opportunities (which means that the south keeps lagging behind etc etc and it SUCKS because the south is sooo beautiful and the living conditions could be so much better if we had a good government that knew how to handle stuff to use the resources we have ☹️).

So, Milan is good for work and stuff but people are definì less welcoming than the rest of Italy. Everyone is always busy lol. However (it’s fucking sad to say but it’s true) I’m pretty sure that since you’re American and not from somewhere in Africa, South America or Asia.. people would treat better. There’s still this kind of myth about the American dream, you know? I think it’s the remains of our ancestors migrating to America to have better life opportunities (only to be treated as garbage like they threat immigrants here 💀 sometimes I can’t believe how fucking stupid and plainly ignorant some people can be).

I think I also have to mention that Italian bureaucracy is fucking awful. Like. For real. The worst thing ever. It takes ages for the smallest, stupidest things, you still need to do a lot of stuff in person and not online and in general it doesn’t work really well. I have no idea how it works in the rest of the world but I know that it’s been like 9 months since a relative of mine passed away and we’re still waiting for the succession to be done. To make another example: to have the passport you have to take an appointment and the first free slots are usually after at least three months. Then you need to go to that specific place which must be in your province of residence and it takes like 10 mins to sign the docs and let them take them your fingerprints and THEN you wait like two more weeks for it to be ready to be picked up. I swear it’s so!!!!! Frustrating!!!!!!

Now that I read back what I wrote I realised that it doesn’t sound really positive 😂🥲 maybe it’s bc as I said I want to move so I tend to take into consideration all those things that make me wanna go abroad.. Anyway in conclusion I kinda agree with the other anon that messaged Gina. It’s a beautiful place but more like for holidays than for living. In my opinion.

I think that going to the UK is obviously a good choice, but I’m not sure it’s gonna be that easy to go live in the continent afterwards, after the brexit mess and all that. It’s fucked up, really. It was sooo easy before that :((

I think the best option (but, like, I’m no one to tell you what’s best, obviously jdjdjs) is would be to go the the Netherlands or Belgium and from there moving wherever you want. I think it would be way easier since they’re parte of the UE etc. + as I said like ten times they’re very very nice places to live in :))

This has gotten very very long and I’m sorry haha 😅 can you tell I have something to do that I really don’t want to do? Anyway if you have more questions or other stuff you’re curious about feel free to ask!!!

[writteninscarlet]

“I don’t know, I think I could be pretty problematic if I tried,” she mused, as though truly pondering the thought. However, Wanda had no intention of being an issue fare today. Maybe a little annoying and pestering, potentially. Maybe. She’d see how things were going. She wasn’t as averse to meeting and learning about others as her brother was - or as she herself had been even just a few years ago. She knew Marc, she knew Steven (as well as she could know both at this stage perhaps, but enough to want to know more, to feel that pull). It was Jake’s turn in the spotlight. And he was probably thinking along the same track. Was it time for 20 questions yet? But no, perhaps that wasn’t necessary. His company seemed easy enough so far - too early to make any judgements, of any kind, but comfortable enough.

She gave a laugh, not bothering to hide or squash any emotions. What would be the point? This really was an opportunity to learn more of one another, so some give and take was perhaps necessary. And if she put up a front with one of them, she’d have to do so with them all. And that was far too tiring a thought. Wanda would remain Wanda, and they’d find out how well Wanda and Jake could get along well enough. With a grin, playful glint in her eyes, she glanced at him with eyebrow raised, “A simple cabbie? Is this when I’m supposed to say no one is simple…? There’s always something interesting, I suppose.” Her grin remained in place at his comment on the music, a soft shrug of acknowledgement then she continued. “A simple cabbie… sounds nice, if I’m being honest. I don’t think I could do the job. I like a drive but it has been a while since I’ve done so.” A soft huff of air, amusement there but not quite a laugh. “Putting my driving skills aside, I wonder if I have the patience. Hmm~ let’s see how things go, and I’ll rate the experience later. I wonder if a review from me would help or hinder,” she joked, happy to continue his own joke.

She glanced out the window, thinking on the matter semi-seriously. “I can be patient, at times. I don’t think I mind traffic today but if I was dying to be somewhere, that’s a different story, isn’t it? But I prefer scenic. I like the sights. The good and bad.” She almost added some nostalgia, that she had always used to enjoy making up backstories for people she passed whilst growing up - and even into her teens, and first years in her twenties. Curious and wondering what everyone else was doing. But Wanda silenced herself, a slight smile on her features.

Her head tilted slightly, glancing at him as he continued. She considered his words then nodded. Before she could reply, his laughter brightened her look, the sound enough to twitch her lips up in a brighter smile. A shake of her head, good natured roll of her eyes. “Glad you appreciate it. I was telling the truth. I’ve been in… many not so nice vehicles. And I can’t think this is the safest place to drive around, picking up fares. Better you than me. It’s just—“ she paused, thinking it over, then shrugging, “It’s important to take care of these things, isn’t it?” Was that what she meant? Maybe. It was hard to describe. Clean was just one way he was keeping his job and life here ‘good’, keeping it his and taking care of it. It was hard to put into words.

Wanda gave another laugh at that. “True. You know I couldn’t work out what to think when I first got to the city. It was so big and bright! …but also dirty and rather, uhm, dank. DARK. I suppose. Truthfully, some bad public transport experiences put me off at the start - and it was ‘Pietro’ transport I used a lot at the start. Didn’t like the stares or questions.” She gave a soft snort, that glint of amusement and playfulness back as she looked at him. “Jake Lockley, keeping the city fresh and nice for the tourists. It’s a tough job, someone has to do it. I’ll remember this for your review.”

Jake returned her grin with one of his own. "Don't think I'll have to put on my 'problem fare' playlists with you." One for every kind of problem imaginable. "What I listen to solo isn't the same as what I listen to on the clock. Klezmer. Lotsa klezmer. Pop whatever the genres call it. Ach." He chuckled about her brother and her sneaking into punk and rock concerts. "Punk? Oh, we'll get along. We got a soft spot for it." With certain exceptions, pre-aughts rock and metal was still okay for Marc. Jake had scrubbed the existence of it from his cab. She likely wasn't going to trip on the mine from any aux usage. Soft flipping of CD pages in protective case tipped the whole aux experience away anyway.

Marc knew some sides of Wanda. The protector, the one with hexes, and old deeds. Grant was familiar with the dancer, the gala attendee. Both knew this new shopkeeper version. Visible as a sign saying there was a snake (curve) up ahead, Jake can see the champagne fizz and fire crackles of Marc's crushes. Grant knew and kept the cards close; Marc hadn't named the emotion. Jake needed his own time with her. Determine if what he saw in the back lined up with the outside. See where he fit in -- friend, getaway driver, or if he was swept up in her kind wake. Fair's fair right? Considering how long it took to go from favorite verbal sparring partner to a match to a fiancé to ex (the later steps far too close), Jake wasn't especially working on a quick timeline.

"Well, Wanda," Jake said conspiratorially, arching his eyebrows, watching the road. "I'm a plain, simple cabbie. When I see someone stuck inside on such a nice day, I gotta bust em out. If I surpass your expectations, give me a good review." He laughed over the opening guitar solo of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' at his own joke. "Nice choice."

Glancing over from his purple (peripheral), "No? Travel by brother sounded like point a to b. And I know a flight with the team isn't the same neither. We can take the scenic route. Make you get sick of the traffic." He was on the highway, pointed back towards the City. "See a lot. Some good, some not so good." Something he knew they had in common. Scaled different. "Ah well. I don't get roughed up nearly as much since I got back in town. Only put the cab into the water once so far. Why it's clean. Brand new." Another belly laugh. "No, no. I do appreciate you saying that. I like keeping it clean." Beyond tips and the nice comments. The cab was his home. Grant had the mothballed Long Island Mansion, Marc had the Midnight Mission. Ol Lockley had the cab and was content.

Bright and genuine, "s like first impressions. Poor tourist's gonna think all cabs are filthy."

[madness-in-the-flesh]

you 🤝 me 🤝 deimos being so normal about gil like so totally normal

yk i was thinkin actually- gil wif an s/o who's very physically affectionate? i think the big dumb boy deserves some love-

We three are the average Gil enjoyers and we stand strong. For our king, He deserves and will receive ALL affection physically possible.

Jokes aside it's great to see someone who also enjoys Gil +) !!! His part was short but sweet. I plan on writing for him a lot in the future too. Also Church and Jorge but I haven't gotten around to those two though. Either way this was really fun to write shugsuifhse !!!!!!! <3

Burger Gil w/ a physically affectionate s/o

GENRE - Romantic

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Kidnapping, Food mention, Toxic mindsets, manipulation

It'd start when he first takes you probably, Similar to what I wrote about in the drabble: You try to get up but he just sits you back down. But instead, You're hugging into him and he feels like he's about to combust

Drops the plate of food he's trying to give you and just stares in both disbelief and absolute devotion. He can't BELEIVE this is happening. To him of all people! I mean he IS quite the celebrity but … he's just Burger Gil and your YOU, wonderful, awe-inspiring you!

Congrats on being allowed to move around the kitchen, as long as you don't try going upstairs... But why would you when you can be so affectionate with him here.

He's love language in more gift giving and words of praise however he adores physical affection. Considerably shy when it comes to PDA so when you come along and start giving him physical affection. He can hardly control himself.

If it's in a more private setting, He's scooping you right up and peppering your face with kisses. He'll do whatever he can to return his physical affection because he loves you!!! he wants to prove he does and with every good feeling you give him, He wants to return to you!

If it's more public, I.E. in the actual store/upper floor. He'll be very flustered. He's bright red with blush. If Zed's can blush, Not 100% sure if that's possible but he's a blubbering mess who doesn't know how to react since he needs to be professional at his job!!!!!

Either way, It kinda makes his feelings towards you worse. It's like your feeding his obsessive tendencies like he does his " customers ". It's similar to rewarding your pet for bad behaviour, Not good for the long run.

You could manipulate this though if you were smart enough. You could make like it into a reward system of sorts if you wanted to him to be more manageable as a yandere. That's because he puts all his trust into you and knows you'll stay put! But if this were to be broken, no. You won't be allowed out the kitchen every again

Although escaping him in general would be hard with his speed. One of the fastest G0L3Ms there is so unless you do have a different mode of transportation that isn't on foot away from Famous Gil’s City style food & other fine consumables. You are probably gonna be dragged back kicking and screaming

With time he will start to come out of his shell and become more physically affectionate with you more in public.

If you play your cards right and are truly happy with him, Maybe it'll just end with him being possessive and wanting your opinion on everything.

But genuinely please give him love and adoration he oh so deserves. That's all he wants. You, him and making burgers with lots and lots of love, hugs and kisses in-between.

So what we can take away: Burger Gil + Affectionate S/O = Very very good.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes, But Your Kisses Do

summary:  in a standoff with an unsub, reader makes a choice: her life or spencer’s. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader 

category: angst/fluff at the end 

warnings/includes: canon typical case violence, based off of episode “haunted” so spoilers, guns/gun violence, hospitals, kissing, mentions of hotch’s stabbing 

word count: 3437 

author’s note: i wrote this one a while ago and thought i’d share it. if anyone wants to be tagged, i’m going to figure it out and i’ll add you to a tag list!!  

Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes, But Your Kisses Do

The two agents that sat on swivel chairs facing each other fake arguing about an episode of Dr. Who. Spencer had his legs straight out, resting on Y/N’s lap comfortably. She leaned forward and placed her chin on her hand as she explained to Spencer her thoughts on the episode. 

“Spencer, you cannot tell me that you don't think  David Tennant is hot! I watched the episode with you and I can tell you are-" 

“I’m not going to argue against that, Y/N. David Tennant is,” Spencer started as he fiddled with the lollipop that Garcia handed him when he and Y/N walked into the bullpen.

“Is what, Spence?” A teasing look graced her face as Spencer’s blush grew down his exposed neck and collarbone. 

“He’s hot, okay Y/N is that what you want me to say!” Spencer’s voice rose a couple octaves from his admission over his not-so-subtle-crush on The Doctor.

“That’s exactly what I wanted you to say, Spencer. Least I know we have the same type” She said with a wink. 

“You got a type, Y/N?” Derek called from the doorway of the conference room. 

“Yeah, hot doctors with brown hair”  Emily said without missing a beat. She had walked in behind Derek, the pair  of them discussing her annual Sin-to-Win Weekend in Atlantic City. 

“But they, you know, have to be like Time Lords, or whatever” She said in efforts to cover up her growing discomfort. 

She turned her attention back to Reid, who was in the process of trying to remove his leg from her warm lap. He did not want to give Derek anymore ammunition to make sly jokes at his not-so-subtle-crush on his best friend/co-worker. Secretly, he wanted to keep his leg there, against her soft thigh and maybe she’d drop her hands on his leg in a comforting gesture of….friendship. 

Garcia placed a tin decorated with white and orange cats dressed in bonnets on the table just within reach of Hotch’s usual spot near the monitor. Reid reached forward to open the tin, which he deduced was filled with Penelope’s infamous snickerdoodle cookies. Unfortunately, before the genius profiler could reach the gaudy tin, Penelope swatted his hand away from grasping the cookies. 

“Hey! Those are for Hotch” Penelope shouted as she grabbed the tin and moved them closer to Hotch’s chair. 

“What? You know I love cookies, Garcia. Come on, Hotch hates attention” 

“I just made some cookies, it’s not like I made him a cake.” Penelope argued as Derek and Emily both quietly eyed the cookies. 

“Spence, we’ll make cookies tonight. It looks like it’s just a paperwork day” Y/N said with a slight smile, that, in turn, elicited a big grin from an unsuspecting Spencer.

“Anyway,” Derek started as he chose to ignore the interaction that unfolded before him “we all know he’s going to act like nothing happened” he remarked as he fingered through the dozen case files spread out before him on the table. 

“Doesn’t mean we have to,” Penelope said sadly as she looked down at the cat cookie tin.  

“Maybe we should,” Reid said quietly to his co-workers. 

“But, I’m not built like that!” said Penelope. 

“Hotch is though, Penny,” Y/N noted as she snuck a cookie while Penelope’s back was turned. She broke it in half and handed it to Spencer under the table. He winked at her as she shushed him. 

“Yeah, Y/N,” Spencer said with a mouthful of cookie, “Hotch never blinks” he finished with a large swig of lukewarm, sugared coffee. 

“Classic Alpha Male” Spencer said, looking towards Derek. 

“Do you think he stared down Foyet...you know while it happened?” Emily questioned. She was usually the one who could stomach all these, but when it came to the team, she was as nervous as the lot of them. 

“It’s probably what saved his life,” Derek said somberly. 

“He can’t be okay,” Penelope said with a whisper. 

“I wouldn’t be,” Spencer said with an air of uncertainty, “I’m a blinker” 

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There was an uncomfortable silence during the ride to Louisville. Hotch was more sullen than usual, but, thankfully, Garcia broke the tension with her reports via computer screen. 

“Our point in Louisville is Lieutenant Kevin Mitchell, my contacts don’t report any more attacks related to this unsub” JJ relayed. She sat next to Derek, who was across from Hotch and Rossi. Emily sat criss cross on the table across from the foursome. On the small jet couch, Spencer and Y/N played a game of chess as they listened to the initial reports JJ received from the local PD. 

“Call’s proving hard to track. He never had a driver’s license, so he’s probably still on foot,” Spencer mumbled without removing his eyes from the chessboard. 

“Or public transportation,” Y/N added as she cringed when Spencer announced “check”. 

“Well, he’s not going to get anywhere too far with his face all over the news,” Emily continued. 

“So, what do we think the stressor is,” Rossi nodded. 

“He just lost his job. Worked in a factory since 1990. He made appliances forever. Not a single promotion” Garcia’s voice came across a little staticky. 

“That’s a long time to be bitter,” Derek posed. 

“Or he just doesn’t care,” Reid countered. 

“According, to what you sent over Garcia, he kind of seems like a hermit. Far as I can tell he’s got no one. No wife, no children, no parents.” Y/N added with a sad tone in her voice. 

With a sharp tone, Hotch added “then why didn’t he kill himself?” 

“He’s not finished killing yet,” Reid continued the thought, “check mate!” 

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It was at times like these that it seemed like the case drags on forever. Call had kidnapped a little boy, who, Spencer had figured out was Call’s biological son.  The local PD was getting them nowhere. Those overly macho cops seemed to be having a difficult time taking orders from JJ. Y/N watched as she marched over to Mitchell and demanded that he give a press conference. 

Y/N chuckled quietly to herself as she watched the interaction. JJ was a force to be reckoned with, especially when the life of an innocent child was at stake. That cop had no idea who he was challenging. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer called from his spot in front of the whiteboard. It was decorated with a combination of their messy, rushed handwriting. Spencer grasped his blue marker and looked at Y/N with a painful expression. 

“I’m not getting anywhere with this geographical profile,” Spencer’s somber tone flooded Y/N’s emotions with an overwhelming sense to comfort him. 

“Spencer, put the marker down and look at me, please, for a second.” He obliged as he turned to face her.

Y/N reached up on her tiptoes to gently rub her hands along the base of Spencer’s neck. He could feel the tension melt away. Spencer was not one for physical affection, but he realized that he, in fact, craved the soft touches of people he trusted. Whether it was a brotherly pat on the back from Morgan, a playful high five from Garcia, a proud fist bump from Hotch, Spencer had grown to seek out affection. 

“Y/N,” he said. His voice but a whisper in the loud, hectic bullpen. 

“Shh,” She could sooth his worries just with a graze of her hands across his neck. It was magic to a scientist. Her magical presence set him on fire. 

“Hey, we can do this, Spence, all of us, but we need you,” Y/N voice mirrored his own. A hushed whisper that fueled the flames of his love. 

Instead of kissing her forehead or even hugging her, all Spencer could make out was a small thank you, before, like the wind, she was gone to see if Garica had any updates on the missing boy. 

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In a frantic hour, Garcia had discovered a possible location of Tommy and his father, Darrin. Like most the unsubs, they were children of tragedy. Children of abusive homes and of deep rooted violence. It was up to the team, as they raced down the street in their crowded SUVs, to stop the cycle of violence for claiming another innocent child. 

“Hotch, you are on speaker,” Emily called from the passenger seat of the car as Derek sped down the warehouse where they suspected Tommy to be held. 

“Do not go in there without SWAT, do you all here me?” Hotch said sternly. 

“That means you, Derek, don’t go in there till backup gets there,” JJ added from the phone that Emily held. 

“You got it, boss man,” Derek made a sharp turn that led Y/N to nearly fall into Spencer, who sat next to her. 

“Spencer! Where is your vest!?” Y/N asked him impatiently, with a tinge of nervousness and fear laced in her tone. 

“Y/N, Call doesn’t have a gun, he’s been using weapons of opportunity. The profile points to him not even being armed right now. If anything-” 

“Screw the profile, Spencer!” Y/N’s voice was hysterical now. “You need to where a damn vest, you are an FBI agent, if you get-” 

Y/N’s rant to Spencer was stopped short by the disturbing sight before her. From the SUV the four of them could see an even more distraught Call standing out in the middle of the warehouse parking lot. He held Tommy by the neck, with a gun pointed at his temple. Derek stopped the car and jumped out, his gun wielded as he began to try to talk the man down. 

“Call, drop the weapon and release Tommy, right now!” Derek’s voice loomed large and powerful as Emily, Reid, and Y/N each got out of the vehicle and turned their spots with Morgan. 

“You don’t want to hurt Tommy,” Spencer started. “we know who he is to you, we know that he’s your son, and that you weren’t there for him.” He put his gun away in an attempt to show Call that he was not a threat. Y/N could read the desperation in Spencer’s voice from a mile away. Call, like Spencer’s mom lives with schizophrenia. Spencer and Hotch nearly had it out in the middle of the bullpen after Spencer insinuated that Hotch was implying that Call was only going on this murder spree because of his condition.

“Just let the boy go, Call.” Y/N continued the track that Derek and Spencer started. “Just let your son go. We will make sure that you can get medicine, that’s why you went to the pharmacy, right? You need meds to help yourself and then,-” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Spencer inching closer and closer to Tommy. As if it was a chain reaction, Call drew his weapon and fired towards Spencer. Before she even could realize the consequences of her actions, Y/N tackled Spencer to the ground. The bullet lodged itself into the Kevlar vest she wore. Her side burned as she came to understand what had transpired in the last couple of seconds. 

Spencer scrambled onto his knees and clutched Y/N’s cold hands in his. 

“Spence, I’m okay,” Y/N said as she struggled to sit up straight with Spencer practically laying on top of her. 

“No, Y/N! Don’t do that,” Spencer started with tears flooding the corners of his eyes. The little droplets made his sometimes brown and sometimes green eyes sparkle with sadness. 

Spencer moved his hands from the place where the bullet lodged itself in her Kevlar to grasp her face tenderly. But his movement caused her cheek to be painted with a deep red handprint in the shape of the crying man crouching before her hand.

“Spencer,” she let out a small whimper when she saw the look of horror on his face.  Before he could even ask her why she did what she did, Y/N passed out, her limp, cold hand finding its home in the comfort of soft, warm ones. 

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

The rest of the case passed in a numbing hum for Spencer. Once Y/N got shot by Call he let go of Tommy and Derek shot him the leg. Spencer did not even stay for when Emily and Derek apprehended the unsub. It was like his legs acted of their own accord when the EMT showed up for Y/N and he walked with them never letting go of her hand. 

The ride to the hospital in the back of the ambulance was hectic. The EMTs had to monitor her heart rate, her blood pressure, and her oxygen. Even the temptation of numbers could not capture Spencer’s attention as he mulled over the possible conclusions to why Y/N would take a bullet for him. There was no logical reason for it. Not one. Spencer let the steady rocking of the ambulance to soothe him as he gently rubbed his thumb over Y/N’s hand. Even though he longed to hold her against himself, this would have to do, for now at least. Till then, Spencer forced his mind to focus on the pattern that her beating heart created.

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Hospitals terrified Spencer. The smell, the sick people, the people who were unsavable. Part of him wonders what his life would be like if he became a medical doctor. As a kid, he had a future where he could do anything he could dream of. Cure schizophrenia on Monday, operate on an inoperable tumor on Tuesday- that’s what his life could have been like. 

But sitting there, in the sterile hospital with the white walls and constant beeping, Spencer’s mind was only thinking of another life he could be out living. In the minutes that he sat with Y/N as she lay in pain in his arm, false memories of a life together painted in his mind. Laughing children, family picnics, couple’s Halloween costumes. He stroked her hair and saw a life so familiar that he could almost taste it. He tasted cookies that they baked together as they danced without a care in the world. He tasted Halloween and Forth of July and all the holidays in between. He tasted butterfly kisses with his children that had her hair and her eyes and her smile. 

He was stripped away from those memories that he didn’t even own. Now all he could taste was the bitterness of regret, the sourness of what if, and the tartness of the nightmares masquerading as reality. 

“Family of Y/L/N,” a surgeon dressed in light blue scrubs walked into the waiting area with an unreadable expression on her face.

JJ and Derek stood up immediately as the doctor went to continue to deliver the news. 

“She’s awake and doing okay,” the doctor said with a relieved expression. 

“Oh that goodness,” JJ said as she hugged Emily in a moment of happiness. 

“She’s a fighter,” Derek quipped, “I’m going to call Garcia, she’s probably a nervous wreck” 

“She’ll make a full recovery, but should avoid air travel because her internal bleeding,” the doctor reported, “also, which one of you is Spencer? Even since she’d been lucid, she’s been asking for you,” she said looking around at the remaining group, with her eyes landing on the man in question. 

“She is?” Spencer questioned carefully. He was worried that maybe she regretted jumping in front of him. 

“Yes, why don’t you come with me. It may make her more comfortable having someone she wants with her” 

Y/N wants him. 

Him. 

Spencer was not sure how he even walked himself down the corridor to where Y/N’s room was located. But sure enough, he was met with her ashen face beaming up at his. 

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, are you okay, I mean, obviously you’re injured so you’re not okay. I don’t mean to invalidate your pain, I just...why, Y/N, why on Earth would you do that?” Spencer finished. His voice was more tender towards the end. He looked down at his friend before him and tried to read the expression that graced her face. 

“Spencer, I did what I had to do. You….you would have died,” Spencer noticed the tears that puddled in her eyes and had to suppress the sudden urge to kiss them away. 

“I’d rather die than live my life in a world without you, Spencer.”

Spencer closed his eyes and sat down on the bed with her. 

“Why?” he asked in a voice that was hardly audible. It can’t be, he thought. Maybe this is just something that a teammate does for another teammate. Comrades in arms or something like that, he thought. Trying to make sense of senselessness. 

“Why do you value my life more than yours? Why-how can you do that” there was not stopping tears in his eyes now. She reached out and held his face, like he held her as she bled out in the warehouse only a couple of hours ago. 

“Spence, my life would be dull and gray without you in it. You’re my best-” She stared as he tensed up at what he knew was coming. She only jumped in front of him because it’s what a teammate does. 

“Please, I can't bear to hear that. I-maybe you only can think of me as a teammate or worse a brother, but part of me. A hopeful and romantic part of me that I can't let go of the thought of you thinking about in a different way,” he was so embarrassed, so raw in the moment that he could not bear to even look her in the eyes. 

“Spencer?” he could only watch the way that their fingers laced together. He focused on the patterns between the itchy hospital blanket. 

“Y/N,” he started and took a deep breath. Spencer had never intended to tell her this. Maybe in moments of drunken bravery he thought about it, but he’d always sober up before his dreams could come to fruition. 

“I’m a logical man, I solve problems for a living but sometimes. Sometimes, I can’t use logic to solve some problems, and there’s no logical reason for you to jump in front of a bullet for me. Unless you love me? And I hope with every fiber of being that you do, because I am so desperately in love with you” 

Spencer allowed himself, for the first in his life, to have once of hope and faith. 

Y/N’s eyes met Spencer’s in an uncharacteristically shy moment. 

“I do, Spence. Of course I love you”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh as he, once again, gently placed his hands on her jaw. He placed a kiss on her forehead. The small, tender affection elicited a whimper from Y/N. Spencer jumped back in horror. 

“Oh, honey did I hurt you? You gotta tell me where it hurts” he murmured in a comforting voice. 

“Hmm, no I’ve just been waiting five years for you to kiss me and you settle on my forehead?” Y/N beamed up at him expectantly. 

“Nowhere do you want me to kiss you, my dear?” Spencer questioned playfully. 

“How about in between everywhere and anywhere you want, Doctor Reid,” Y/N, despite the pain, managed a smile for the man that held her hand so lovingly. 

“How about here?” Spencer leaned forward and kissed the left corner of her mouth. 

“Or here?” The right corner. 

“What about here, I’ve dreamed of kissing you here.” He moved his mouth to meet the place on her neck that met her collarbone. Y/N looked up at Spencer dreamily. One day she might chalk it up to the painkillers flooding through her system, but the pure adoration that melted from Spencer’s lips to her skin was something that never knew she’d crave. 

“And here” 

His lips parted slightly as he moved in to meet hers. The feeling was more divine and earth shattering than when Prometheus gave humans fire. Together, intertwined in bedsheets, IVs, and fingers laced with hair, they lit a fire of their own. Kissing Spencer stopped time. 

It was Y/N who broke first. 

“Spencer,” she said with a new reverence that would only be reserved for him. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” 

“You gotta promise me something,” she said as she raked her hands across his arms, feeling him shudder under her touch. 

“Anything and everything for you” he said, mirroring her earlier words to him. 

“Wear a vest next time”

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

[liquid-luck-00]

Lantern!Marinette 2

Ao3 *** Part 1 *** Here *** Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay so I didn't touch Mari's parents before so here it is.

Simple explanation the magic that flows from Adana erased Mari's existence because she was so young. However those that loved her, that she loved, or who were impactful our Mari's life will remember her as a dream or imaginary friend respectively. If or when they meet her again it would be 'I know you from some where, but I don't know from where.'

In all intense and purposes Mari is a ghost.

So with that said here we go.

---

So here she was starting middle school in Coast City. It was actually not half bad. same there was nothing about the intergalactic wars, the policies that set the Green Lanterns as the Galactic Police force or any history she learned from the Blues. This actually made her dangerously behind in Earth history, but Marinette was always a quick study. Her English, math, science, and art were amazing and her physical capabilities made her a star athlete. Only downside was making friends, like seriously everyone stayed in groups of two. Add to the fact she knew little of Earth culture and customs, made it hard to interact with others outside of class work. All in all she was shy.

Whenever a villain would attack and she was able to assist she would, but she made sure she was not seen and only boosted her dad's powers while healing injuries before they could be noticed. This only lasted about a little over a year.

She knew better than to call dad when she knew that he was in a meeting with the JLA, but it was kinda hard to ignore the yellow blur running through the city causing havoc.

"What's wrong?" He answered on the second call, murmurs were heard in the background.

"There's a speedster in yellow tearing up and down the city." she responded simply.

"Can you see..."

"Crap!" was shouted on the other end "Got to go. Reverse got out." Someone yelled but she didn't recognize the voice.

"I'll go with you," dad sighed. "He is in Coast." was the last thing she heard before dad ended the call. She took that to mean she should transform and help minimize the damage and keep an eye out.

Not even 10 minutes later she saw a red blur followed by her dad's green one. (They were held up by a nosy Bat who couldn’t help himself because someone cough*Superman*cough decided to eavesdrop on the call.) She updated him, and he repeated it, to who she now recognizes as the Flash, and they got to work.

It didn't take them long to defeat the Reverse Flash, but here is where they ran into a problem. Coast was equipped to deal with most metas but speedsters that got their power from the speed force were different, and by that they meant difficult.

"I have an idea." She piped up through to her dad’s comms.

"Come on over and share with the group." She landed not even a minute later spooking the Flash. "What's the idea."

"Am I not supposed to ask who this is?" Was asked by Flash, but he was completely ignored.

"So you know how the speed force allows speedsters to vibrate which allows them to pass trough matter, which is why transporting and containing speedsters are so difficult." She began to explain.

"Um..." Dad seemed completely lost. This was something she learned with the Blues in order to understand for when she would eventually come back to Earth.

"How do you..?" Flash seemed to look at her as if she just grew a second head and was suddenly very dangerous.

"Well if we create a double construct that infuses both frequencies of the spectrum" Marinette continued.

"It'll stop him from escaping since it would be two simultaneous frequencies working in tandem occupying the same space and speedsters can only vibrate at one at a given time." Flash caught onto her idea.

"Exactly!" she beamed.

"Alright let's try." Dad agreed once he fully understood.

They tested a small square and tightly wove several strands of energy until a swatch was big enough and tightly worn enough was created. They continued to expand it until Reverse Flash was in a bubble, which they proceeded to fly to Star City. After dropping off Reverse Flash, the actual Flash practically dragged the two lanterns to his home.

"Okay Jordan spill." Flash was now in civilian clothes, dad crossed his arms and huffed dropping his transformation and she followed suit, slightly hiding behind him.

"Hey Barry dinners just about ready." A woman came out of the other room. "Hey Hal want to join us?" she asked smiling and then spotted her. "Who's this?"

"Dinner would be lovely Iris," Dad replied smiling. "And this is Marinette," he pushed her forward and she gave a light wave and smile.

"Hello," was barely audible.

The woman, Iris, turned to Flash, Barry, "Dad and Wally should be here soon." As the words left her mouth the door opened and revealed a man and a teenager.

"Heya Auntie Iris, Uncle Barry, what's up Hal,” and he froze seeing her, "Um... Hi."

He was a blur until that, so speedster.

"Wally why don't you and Marinette get the table set." Iris suggested breaking the awkward silence between the two teens.

Wally led her to the kitchen, "I'll get the plates, can you do the table?"

"Sure." she answered and used the constructs of the ring to expand the table and bring over two more chairs.

"What?!" the plates began to fall from his hands, so she reacted since he didn’t seem to, catching them in another construct moving them over to the table. "Your a blue lantern!"

"Yeah, and you're a speedster." she shot him a smile. After that dinner was significantly less awkward, seeing as everyone knew or was a hero, and was filled with questions and lots of laughter, mainly getting to know her.

"In all seriousness you might want to keep her away from the Bat." Barry joked.

"Bats isn't getting Bluebell. Hell if today hadn't happened you wouldn't have known about her." Dad grumbled.

"Why should I stay away from a bat, I thought they were harmless to humans, or are you talking about a bat used for sports?" She was genuinely confused.

"Bats is a nickname for Batman a vigilante from Gotham. He a few years ago took in a ward." A soft ‘Oh’ was heard from her, but Barry continued "So, when are you going to introduce her to the rest of the League."

"I won’t if I can help it."

"But we knew this would happen sooner or later." she piped in.

"Yes but you've only been on Earth a year."

"You kept her from us for a year. Good job Jordan." Barry complimented.

"Year and a half actually, but better now than during something cataclysmic." she rationalized.

"That's true." Dad paused a moment before exclaiming, "I see what your doing little lady." A mock scowl on his face.

---

That was her first friendship she made. Wally would randomly come over for the week end. She found out about a month later that it was whenever he needed a breather from his teammates.

That in turn meant that she would know quite well the inner workings of the team as he knew she could keep it a secret. When in private he would use (in the beginning at least) Robin, Artemis, Aqualad, Superboy, and Miss Martian otherwise he he ended up using pokemon names to describe them while in public. He had taken it upon himself to help her understand Earth culture and that mainly revolved around playing a lot of video games,watching movies or tv, or going out to various locations. Riolu, Chikorita, Croconaw, Machamp, Ditto and of late, a new teammate called Zatanna, nicknamed Kirlia. In all honesty she heard the nicknames so often that that was how she knew his teammates. It got to the point that he would call her Togetic, so in retaliation she calls him Pikachu.

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @miraculouspenta

Taglist: @anjuschiffer @michaelshadow7779 @maskedpainter @corporeal-terrestrial @slytherinhquinn

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 12

The scene shifted the moment Tempest woke up. They were outside, on a street in the middle of the city.  Storm clouds circled overhead.  

Tempest stood in front of them, hands in her pockets, a bland expression on her face.  

“So,” she drawled.  “You’re Nine’s friends.”

“Uh,” said Ochako, taken aback.  Right after Four had said she wouldn’t talk to them, this was disconcerting.   “Yes?”

“I’m his teacher,” said Aizawa, stepping forward.

“Yeah?  You think you’re doing a good job raising up little child soldiers?”

“Excuse me?” said Aizawa.  

“You heard me.”  She shifted her gaze to Ochako, then to Todoroki and Iida.  “I bet Souma told you I wouldn’t be talking to you.”

“He did say something along those lines, yes,” said Iida, even as Ochako worked very hard to elbow him.

“I can follow why he’d think that,” Tempest said. “I spent most of my life fighting against the government.  Lord knows I wouldn’t have approved of him choosing a ‘pro hero’ to follow after him.”  She took her hands out of her pockets to make air quotes.  She was wearing brass knuckles.  “Whatever a pro hero is supposed to be.  Government lackeys.  Cops and war criminals with a different name.  I’m shocked he pulled a halfway decent person from the muck.”

“We’re not war criminals!” protested Iida.  

“Oh, yeah?  I forgot, the Geneva convention was nixed, wasn’t it?  They had this big meeting and decided none of it applied to metahumans, and then, bam!  Everyone’s a metahuman, so it doesn’t apply at all, huh?  Neat, right?”

“What we’re doing now might not be what you’re used to,” said Ochako, “but it’s the way society works, now.”

“And we’re not killing people, like you did,” said Iida.  Ochako winced at his combative addition.  

“I did what I had to, to get people out of the torture camps,” said Tempest.  “People like my little sister.  You know what they did to her?  They thought her power was just controlled by her voice.  So, they cut out her vocal cords.”

“They don’t do that anymore,” said Todoroki.  

“You think a government like that is just going to stop doing things?  Without people making them?  Without being forced?”  Tempest laughed and looked up at the swirling sky.  “Maybe you do.  You’re just kids, after all.  But tell me this, do you think they didn’t know exactly what was happening to your family, Todoroki Shouto?”

Aizawa cleared his throat.  “What’s your point, here?” he asked.  “What do you want from us?”

Tempest looked back at Aizawa.  The coldness in her brown eyes made Ochako shiver.  “We could have kept you out,” she said. “That Suzuki idiot, too.  Do you know why we didn’t?”

“Enlighten us,” said Aizawa.  

“Because the way we do it would cause irreparable brain damage.  We know, because we’ve done it before.  I thought it was worth it, but the others didn’t want to hurt ‘Nine’s friends.’”

“Are you implying that we aren’t Midoriya’s friends?” asked Todoroki, frowning.  

Tempest huffed and wind whipped down the road, making Ochako cover her face.  

“No.  To be honest, I’m not completely sold on Nine, either.  He wanted to part of the system so bad, and that’s not to mention—” she huffed again.  “At least he knows what it’s like to be on the other side of the equation.  You four, though… I’m stuck with Nine.  I don’t owe you anything and you’re causing all these problems.  What I want from you—”

Behind her, lightning snapped down from the sky.

“—is to prove to me you’re worth it.”

.

“Vlad, the police were able to find your car,” said Powerloader, holding his hand over the receiver of the staff room telephone.

“Oh, thank goodness,” said Vlad.  “I hate taking public transportation.”  He paused.  “I mean, uh, did they find Yagi?  Is he alright?”

“No, they didn’t find Yagi.”

“Great,” said Vlad.  “So, ask them when I can pick it up.  Why are you making that face?  Did Yagi total it?  I bet he did.  ‘Symbol of Peace,’ my—”

“No,” interrupted Powerloader.  “Yagi didn’t total it.  Or crash it.  It was parked in an alley near the Musutafu entertainment district.”

“Where Midoriya had that fight with Hawks,” said Vlad, putting his head in his hands.  “It got wrecked by one of them, didn’t it?”

“No,” said Powerloader.  “It was parked in an alley.  They found it on a security camera.  It isn’t there anymore.”

“They took it again?”

“The League of Villains took it.”

“You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

.

The bus felt empty with half the class missing. The remaining 1-A students (plus Shinso) were all huddled together at the front, mooching off of the teachers mobile hotspots.  

“Did my email go through yet, kero?” asked Tsuyu, leaning over her seat to look at Denki’s computer.  

“Not yet,” said Denki.  “I’ve got all the pictures you guys sent arranged, but I wish we had more video material.  Ashido was the one with the most…”  He sighed. “Ashido, gossip queen, when you wake up I will apologize for all my comments about your hobbies.”

“I have some videos of Midoriya.”

“Trust us, Mineta, no one want your videos,” said Yaoyorozu.

“Huh?  Why not?”

“Tell us this.  How many of your videos are actually of Midoriya and don’t just have him incidentally in the background while you try to film girls.”

“None of them,” said Mineta, obviously not seeing why this was wrong.  “Why would I film Midoriya?”

“Mic,” said Midnight, “please remind me to sign up the walking lawsuit for some sensitivity classes.  How did Eraser miss this?”

“Unfortunately, Shouta is about as sexual as the average rock, so…”

“Remind me to sign him up for some training, too, then.”

“Will do.”

“Walking lawsuit?” asked Mineta.  

Everyone else sighed.  Then Denki’s laptop pinged.

“Huh.  I just got an email from Principal Nezu.”

The adults, including Green Light, the bus driver, blanched.  Adults were bothered by the weirdest things.  In the end, Nezu was just a guy with a quirk, right?  A hero, even!  Principal Nezu, the Education Hero!

Okay, he’d scared Denki (Mr. Terrible Grades) a lot in elementary and middle school, but really.  

(Okay, the crane thing at the Final Exam had been high-key terrifying, but he was trying to get past that.)

“Huh,” repeated Denki, having read the email. “That’s interesting.”

“What is it, my electric friend?” asked Aoyama, drapping himself sideways across his seat.

“Aoyama-san,” said Midnight, “don’t put your feet on the windows.”

“Principal Nezu sent me a link to an ‘All Might adopt a kid’ fanfiction, and it’s by—”

“Midoriya writes fanfiction?” asked Shouji, evidently surprised into using his real mouth to speak.  

“That’s cute, kero,” said Tsuyu.  “It must have been before he met the real All Might, though.”

“No,” said Denki, “it was last updated just a couple of weeks ago, and, well… Midoriya didn’t write it.”

“So, who did?” asked Yaoyorozu.  

“Not Nezu, right?” asked Jiro, winding her earphone jack around her finger.  

“There’s no way, right, Kaminari-san?” asked Present Mic, nervously.  

“Uh, no, no, it’s, uh, it’s All Might. According to Nezu.”

A beat of silence.

“What?”

Denki inserted his pinky into his right ear, trying to clear it.  Man, if the Bakusquad had been here rather than the quiet half of the class…

“Yeah, it says here that this serves All Might right for working on this during school hours?”

More silence.  

“Green Light, the road!”  

“Oops, sorry!”

“Hey, guys, are we sure that All Might didn’t, you know, kidnap Midoriya rather than the other way around?  Guys?”

.

Gran Torino, also known as Torino Sorahiko, was an active hero.  That meant late nights and late mornings.  He was also an old man.  A very old man.  Late mornings often turned into noons and afternoons.  

Sometimes, during those noons and afternoons, he liked to ignore technology and the outside world for a good long while.  Maybe read the paper a little bit.  Or one of those terrible romance novels Nana had left him in her will.  

Still, he was a hero, one wrapped up in something best described as a two-hundred-year-long shadow war, so eventually he did turn on the news.  

Only to see Toshinori’s boy fighting Hawks on live television.  

Not to mention Toshinori hanging out in the background with a shaved head.  

And the ticker said UA student Midoriya Izuku kidnaps Symbol of Peace.

(Which was the dumbest thing he had ever heard, and under other circumstances, he would have been rolling on the floor laughing.)

Gran Torino was an old man, but, luckily, he only felt like he was simultaneously having a heart attack and a stroke.  His body was more than functional enough to place a not-at-all panicked phone call to one Tsukauchi Naomasa.  

.

Tsukauchi Naomasa was incredibly busy.  That busy-ness was divided mostly evenly between desperately trying to find his best friend (who had evidently decided to make a hopefully brief foray into kidnapping teenagers) and trying to figure out what the commission was taking, because it had to be illegal.  Oh, and putting together a complaint that the commission was infringing on police prerogatives.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure how much traction that last would get, since pro heroes had been steadily gaining more and more responsibilities even as the police were losing both them and the power that came with them.  Not to mention Midoriya’s stunt with Hawks… Which… Naomasa just wanted to know why?  What had the point of that been?  On either side?

(Sometimes he wished he were friends with normal people.  Like… he didn’t know… an accountant, maybe?)

(Not that he would give Toshinori up for the world. Just, some normalcy would be nice, too.)

He took a deep breath, remembered what he always told Toshinori about stress, and took a mouthful of room-temperature coffee.

In that thirty-second period, two more problems presented themselves to him.  

One, his cell phone began to ring, displaying the contact information for Gran Torino.  

Two, his email softly pinged, and a message from Principal Nezu asking for any images or videos Toshinori might have sent him slid into his inbox.  

Briefly, Naomasa considered ignoring both of them, but that wasn’t a realistic option and was irresponsible besides.  Contrary to his character.  

He picked the lesser of two evils and answered Gran Torino’s call.

.

Garaki was going to have a mental breakdown.  This was fitting because his car had broken down.  Midoriya Inko was asking him if he thought that his ‘friend’ might come pick them up, if it was safe.  If his ‘friend’ had a car.  

This last had almost sent him into hysterics. Gigantomachia in a car oh-ho!

Except it wasn’t funny at all, as this was almost certainly going to result in his death at the hands of All for One.  No matter that he considered the man his very dearest of friends, he was under no illusions about what All for One would do to him over this inexcusable error.

Perhaps he should just cut his losses and get one of the remote-activated noumu to come for them.  

Then, inexorably and inevitably, things managed to get even worse.

.

“Stop the car!” shouted Tomura.  

“But you said not to—”

“I know what I said!  Stop the car!”

Tomura twisted to see out the rear passenger window. Everyone else turned to follow his gaze, effectively blocking his view.  

“Get out of my way!” demanded Tomura.

There was some awkward, half-hearted shuffling.

“Does that look like anyone to you?” Tomura hissed.

“Yeah!  Like the doctor!” said Toga.  

“I’ve never seen him standing up, though,” said Spinner, dubiously.  “It seems out of character.”

“I didn’t know he owned a car,” mused Compress, rubbing the bottom edge of his mask.  

“Not him!” snapped Tomura.  “The woman!”  He pointed angrily at the rapidly approaching woman with green hair, narrowly avoiding dusting Mr. Compress’s top hat.  

“Eh?  What about her?” asked Spinner.  

“Doesn’t she look familiar to you?”

“To be honest, everyone without mutation quirks looks kind of the same to me.”

“Someone without face blindness.”

“Oh!  She looks like Izu-kun!  Do you think that’s his mom?”

The woman knocked on the window of the car.  Twice, unhelpfully rolled it down.  

“Thank you so much for stopping, we—Oh!”  She took a step back.

She apparently recognized them.  Joy.  He was going to unpack his feelings about this woman later.

“Hey, doc,” rasped Tomura, annoyed.  “What the hell have you been doing?”

“Ahem,” said Garaki, finally stepping out from behind the car.  “I didn’t expect to see you here, Shigaraki Tomura.”

“Because you blew us off and stranded us in the middle of Musutafu?”

“No,” said Garaki, in a way that absolutely meant ‘yes.’  “I knew you were resourceful enough to safely make it out of the city.”

“Oh, yeah?  Really?  You—”

Compress chose that moment to slam his face into the back of Tomura’s head.  Tomura steadied himself automatically on one of the car’s uprights, which cracked dangerously under his hand.  He pulled back as if burned.  

When he looked up, the gremlin’s mother was halfway to the tree line with – What was that in her hand?

He looked back over his shoulder.  

That was Twice’s goddamn mask.  

Compress, for some reason, was also missing his stupid mask (and covering his face like the dramatic weirdo he was), and Toga basically had hearts in her eyes.  Spinner was being Spinner, and therefore ninety percent useless.  He was lucky he was fun to play games with.

How to make her stop?

“Hey!” he shouted.  “We have your son!”

This was a lie, as far as he knew (unless Dabi had snatched him on his way back; it wasn’t impossible), but, he was a villain.

The green-haired woman stopped and turned back, allowing Tomura a full view of her expression.  

He decided that he regretted everything.

.

“Okay,” said Izuku, multitasking by letting Two pick the lock on the League’s safe, “considering Gigantomachia’s ability to track by smell and the questionable running water, we can’t just sneak out.  He’ll find us.  So… I think our best play is getting him to attack Shigaraki, and then when they’re both distracted, we run for it.”

Toshinori nodded and sighed.  “If only we had a giant jug of perfume.  We could throw it at his face and disrupt his ability to smell us.”

“I mean, I found a whole bunch of garbage a way back.  That isn’t perfume, but it does stink.”

“No, no, your plan is superior.  We’d draw too much suspicion if we attacked him like that. Perfume could be written off.”

“Yeah, I can see that.  Because perfume is a ‘nice’ thing.”

“Indeed.”

“It isn’t actually very nice to have it all over you, though,” said Izuku.  

“No,” agreed Toshinori.  “It isn’t.”

The safe popped open.

“I won’t ask if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

“But, anyway, assuming we do get away, what then? Where do we go?  And—Wow.  The League of Villains is broke.  I almost feel bad.”

“I was going to say Deika, but that’s too far, now, and we don’t know if Gigantomachia will come after us,” said Toshinori.  “Drawing him to a place full of civilians would be irresponsible.”

“Yeah,” said Izuku.  He frowned, pulling his head from the safe, and glanced out the window. “What about the Wild Wild Pussycats?”

“What about them?” asked Toshinori.  

“They’re near here, aren’t they?  And they’ve got that whole complex, so, I mean…  I don’t know how they feel about us right now, but it wouldn’t be a terrible place to hide.  Would it?”

“I’d hate to bring all of this down on them as well,” said Toshinori.  “But… That being said, I don’t believe they’re actually there.  They were taking some time off because of what happened to Ragdoll.”

“That makes sense,” said Izuku.  “Should we take the risk?”

“I’m unsure if we have a choice, my boy.  We could try roughing it, but that puts us in a very vulnerable position.”

“And we can’t stay here, with the League.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Okay.”  Izuku sighed and started to thumb through the League’s collection of fake IDs, looking for something he could use.  “Wild Wild Pussycats it is.  We’ve got to convince Machia to attack Shigaraki, and… then we sneak out the back while they’re fighting.”  He shook his head.  “It sounds really unheroic when I put it that way.”

“Under these circumstances, I think heroic is the set of actions where no one dies.”

His mentor was right.  Izuku still felt weird about this, though.  (The pettiness was completely different.)

Not to mention…

He put the last of the fake IDs away and massaged his temples.  “They’re doing something weird in there,” he said.  “I’m going to check on them.  I might be out of it.”

“Don’t worry,” said Toshinori, patting Izuku on the shoulder.  “I’ll keep an eye on things out here.”

(Perhaps all of this could have gone unsaid, what with their connection, but saying things out loud made them easier to organize.)

.

“Hey!” shouted Izuku over the roaring wind. “Stop that!”

“Are you going to fight me, Nine?  All by yourself?”

“No,” said Izuku, somehow contriving to look down his nose at her despite the height difference and the fact that Tempest was floating several meters in the air.  “I won’t have to.  Because I have a secret weapon.”

Ochako could almost see Tempest roll her eyes.

“And,” shouted Izuku, “do you seriously think I just wanted to be part of the system?  Are you serious?  I wanted to help people.  People the system failed.  It isn’t like they’re responsible for the system either!”  He waved his hand to indicate Ochako, Iida, Todoroki, and Aizawa.

“I’d argue about your hobo teacher.  Is this your secret weapon?”

“No, this is, Great-Aunt Miranda.”

Tempest opened her mouth, then closed it again. The wind began to die down.  “I’m – I don’t know what the point of that was—"

“Neither do I!  What’s the point of this?”

“The point is determining whether or not you have people you can rely on, or a bunch of backstabbers who’ll hand you over to a government lab as soon as it’s convenient!”  She stabbed a finger at Ochako.  “She’s just in ‘heroics’ for the money!”  She pointed at Iida.  “He’s only here because it’s traditional for his family.”   She gestured at Todoroki with her other hand.  “He’s doing it mostly out of spite.  And who knows what your hobo teacher is doing this for!”

“There’s nothing wrong with any of that!” protested Ochako.  “You must have your own motivations, too!”

“She does!” shouted Izuku.  “Considering what they are, you have no room to be criticizing Iida!  Besides, you don’t even like me!”

“This isn’t about liking you or disliking!  You’re the—” Tempest visibly cut herself off, then took a deep breath.  She set herself down on the street.  “Knowing what we do now about certain things, a fourteen-year-old would not have been my first choice.”

“Excuse me!  We’re all sixteen!” said Iida.  

“You’re sixteen now, it’s – The fact of the matter is that you’re children.  Naïve children.”

“Oh my gosh, you were younger than I was when you—”

“I was kidnapped and tortured—”

“I know, but why are you taking it out on—”

“By the government that you are trying to lick the boot of—”

“Did you see what they did to Suzuki?”

Ochako felt like she was spectating a very passionate tennis match.  

“If it means anything,” said Aizawa, dragging himself out of the pile of rubble he’d been thrown into by the wind, “I’m just trying to keep my kids alive as long as possible.”

“Then expel them!  Stop them from becoming literal child soldiers!”

“I do,” said Aizawa.

“He does,” confirmed Ochako, who was well acquainted with Aizawa’s reputation.  

“He really does,” seconded Todoroki.  

“I used to see Tensei’s group chat, and every time he expelled someone…”  Iida shivered.  

“Huh,” said Todoroki.  “Is that why you’re so… insistent about rules?”

“Of course not!  Rules are important regardless of why so many students were expelled during the first month of school!”

“So, why didn’t you expel these ones?”

“If you honestly believe the problem child wouldn’t have flung himself at the first villain he saw after that and dove straight into vigilantism, you don’t know him very well.”  He sighed, standing, and brushed dust and pebbles out of his tracksuit. “That goes for these three as well. They’re insane and it’s not my fault.”

“Isn’t saving others what heroes do?” asked Izuku, walking closer to Tempest.  Ochako wanted to run out and grab him, but this whole ordeal had just shown how useless that would be.  “No matter what?”

“Not no matter what.  This is why I…”  She shook her head, sighing.  “Not no matter what.”  She leaned forward, her hands on her hips.  “Don’t die. You do realize what will happen if you die, right?  I don’t have to spell it out for you?”

“N-no,” said Izuku.  

“Besides which, I’m not a hero.”

“You saved people,” protested Izuku.  

“And, as your friends pointed out, I’ve killed, too.”

“I know,” said Izuku.  “But you aren’t a bad person.”

“Lots of people kill during wars,” said Ochako, going to stand by Izuku, “and that’s what you were fighting in, wasn’t it?  I mean, I don’t know a lot about that time, but…”

“You wouldn’t.  It’s been over a hundred years.”

Izuku nodded.  “This fight isn’t doing anything, though.  None of us want them here if the vault opens.”

“The what?” asked Iida.  “The vault.”

“Hopefully,” said Izuku, “you won’t have to worry about it.”

“The fight did do something, though,” said Tempest.

“What?” asked Izuku.  

“For one,” said Tempest, “it made you think. For the other…”  Her eyes flicked over Ochako and the others.  “Everyone you fight will have their own reasons. Remember that.”

.

As they walked down the street, storms still brewing overhead, Ochako kept catching glimpses of children in the alleyways and cross streets.  

“Who are they?” she asked, unable to help herself.

“My sister and I,” answered Tempest, brusquely. Ochako, watching the back of the woman’s head, saw her twitch slightly towards one of the alleys.  “About the time we were taken.”

“Taken by who?” asked Todoroki.  

Tempest laughed.  The sound was entirely humorless.  “That government you’re so eager to serve.  You’ve noticed, I hope, that my sister and I aren’t completely Japanese?”

“Yes?” said Todoroki.  “I’m not blind, after all.”

“Todoroki,” said Aizawa in a warning tone.

“Good for you.  Our mother was Japanese.  Dad was American.  We went back and forth to see the family.  Problem was, everyone on Mom’s side quirks.  We didn’t even realize it.  The government tracked the weather disturbances to our movements and raided our family reunion.  Never saw my parents again.  Never saw anyone, for that matter, except my sister and my aunt – Dad’s side – who tried to smuggle us out and got shot for it.  We spent four years in that hell before Ryuji rescued us.”

“You’re more open about this than I would have expected,” said Aizawa.

Tempest sneered.  “Why wouldn’t I be?  I’m a terrorist, and people only become terrorists if they want to make a statement. Which I did.  Trust me when I say this, Nine, if the hero commission took you into ‘custody,’” she spat the word like it was dirty, “you’d be in the same boat. What do you children think they do to all those high-profile criminals in Tartarus?  The ones that are held indefinitely in a private prison without even a show trial?”

“I know, Three,” said Izuku, far more calmly that Ochako would have been able to.  “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to be a hero.  It’s easier to change systems from the inside.”

“Not this system.”

“No,” said Izuku, “but then I had no idea this part of the system even existed.  They do a lot to hide it, after all.”

“Hm,” grunted Tempest, skeptically.

The buildings began to thin out, interspersed with wilderness.  The road rapidly graded narrowed into a one-lane road, then gravel.  

“Is this normal?” asked Ochako.  

“We have more control over our environments than the other ones.  You’ve noticed that only Eight and Nine had multiple versions of themselves running around and being confusing.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” said Izuku.  

“Exactly.  Any of us could send an army of ourselves against you.  Only those two don’t have a choice about it.  Amateurs.”

“Shouldn’t they have had the same amount of time as—” started Ochako.  She broke off as a series of concrete walls topped with barbed wire rose up in front of them, scraping at the surrounding trees, shedding clumps of dirt.  

The trees fell away, leaving a clear, baren space between the walls and the trees.  Slightly beyond the structure moonlight glinted off the surface of a lake.  

“Well.  Welcome to Jinoshi Lake Camp, kids.”  Tempest turned, putting her hands on her hips.  “This is where I met Ryuji.  And…” She glanced up at the walls.  “This is as far as I go.”

“You aren’t going to show us where to find this ‘Ryuji?’” asked Aizawa.  

“I promised myself I’d never go back there.” She jerked her head over her shoulder. “I’m not revisiting it for you.” She started walking away.  “Have fun.”

[kimjiwoong]

i'll weigh in on this driving discourse too hehe honestly i think it depends where you live, the US has quite a few cities where you don't really need to know how to drive or it's not really the norm, NYC especially has 24/7 public transport and it's not common to find a place to live that has somewhere to easily park. i grew up in the suburbs and learned young because it was important to my parents (they didn't want to drive me around once i was old enough to drive myself lol) and i had a few friends who i drove everywhere bc they either didn't have access to a car or they just didn't get their licenses until later and felt like they had to haha. so def depends on the area, and i think families play a big role in when kids learn to drive here. but i agree that media makes it seem like as soon as everyone turns 16 here they can drive haha it's definitely not the case (also every state has different laws on how old you have to be to get your learners permit / license)

yeah i totally get it! i mean in my country driving also depends on where u live. big cities have more buses and trains etc, etc. and also the parent thing! so true. every once in a while i have to go somewhere that's just hard to reach using public transport so my dad drives me and gently reminds me i need to learn lmao i just didn't think some anons would get so mad over one silly joke that's not even playing on a mean stereotype... i made a joke 😭

[al-mayriti]

Hi I'm going on erasmus to spain next year and im still unsure weather i should go to Madrid or Valencia. Do you maybe have any tips or advice? thanks anyway!!

Thank you anon!!! I live in Madrid so I'm forced to say my city is better, but all jokes aside, here are some characteristics / tips for each of the city, depending on what you're looking for!

Madrid:

Right in the center of the country and all trains go there so if you want to travel around Spain it's way easier

Big city with a big public transportation system and almost every international store / food place can be found here

Lots of nature nearby, it's right by the Guadarrama Mountains and you can visit them by train

A lot of multiculturalism, green spaces (Casa de Campo is larger than Central Park, and the Retiro Park is really really pretty) and activities (museums are the best in the country, especially the Prado and Reina Sofía museums!)

Tapas are the best in the country (and in almost all bars you can get them for free with your drink), and our local dishes like bocata de calamares (calamari baguette) and cocido are also great (oh and chocolate con churros during the winter >>>>>>)

Worse weather, it rains a bit more than in Valencia (not much tho) and it's both colder and hotter here (it can get to -15ºC in winter and 40ºC in summer)

Very crowded, especially the touristic places can get very stressful (but there's a lot of places to see, both in and out of the city)

In some areas everything is more expensive than in other parts of the country, especially in the city center

Valencia:

In the coast so that means humidity but also milder weather and lots of beaches!! (the most popular one is the Malvarossa beach)

The whole Valencia Autonomous Community is very pretty (it's made up of the provinces of Castellón, Valencia and Alicante!), and full of English-speaking expats so you'll have no trouble comunicating

Speaking of languages, they speak Valencian here (a dialect of Catalan), so I recommend at least learning some phrases!

It's the third largest city in the country with a population just under a million inhabitants, so it's less crowded than Madrid but still feels like a big city

You have beutiful sights like the Albufera Natural Park (a wetland area) or the Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències (which holds the largest aquarium in Europe!)

It also has a metro and a short-distance train so you'll be able to move freely within the city (and I'm sure you can also catch buses and trains to other cities in the autonomous community)

Lot's of cool festivities like Fallas and Fogueres take place here, some of the most important and well-known Spanish festivities are actually Valencian (or Alicantinan in case of Fogueres, but it's also celebrated there), I believe even the Tomatina (tomato fight) is from a nearby town.

Speaking of Spanish typical stuff, Paella was born here! So, if you wanna taste the best Paella, this is the place to do so (don't try it in the touristy places tho). Another typical dishes in Valencia are orxata, made with xufa (tiger nut), and typically eaten with fartons (it's kinda like the same deal with chocolate and churros in Madrid, but make it Valencian).

Being in the western coast makes it difficult to travel to certain areas of the country, like Galicia or Euskadi.

I feel like I have to mention humidity again cause it's really the worst

Less multicultural than Madrid

It isn't a cheap city either, it's still cheaper than Madrid but still

I hope I could help you, and no matter which city you choose, I'm sure you'll have a great time here :)