#some kids literally asked him hey can you make study guides or something for these tests because theres not much we can do to prepare

[waywardsalt]

wow this class is not worth the time or money i’ve to had to put into it

[cozage]

Hi! :)feel free to decline this if it’s not up your ally or you don’t really have anything else to say about it but, I was very interested when you mentioned law having anxiety about if the amber lead disease would be passed down to his kid, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little offshoot of that (hcs/short fic/whatever format you want) about law and his partner trying to ease each other’s anxieties about it and just how he’d handle it in the long term plus maybe if it wasn’t able to be told if they had it or not before it was born seeing Law finally get to see the kid and his reaction him it having/not having it (it’s up to you what kind of route you’d want to take with that) but anyways it’s just a suggestion because I was really interested once you brought the idea up of how Law would handle something he’s probably tried to block out of his mind since he was young

The post that anon is talking about for reference

Guess what Anon? This is literally the best ask I’ve ever gotten because I think about it ALL the time and all the possible outcomes of that one little thing and I will literally never shut up about it. So here’s some fun* ideas on how I think Law would respond to bringing a child into the world. 

*these are not fun they're so angsty it's not even funny

Transmission

Characters: female reader x Law

Word Count: 1k

CW: talk of abortion, talk about loss of pregnancy, talk of fatal diseases, lots of pregnancy angst, (happy ending though if that makes up for it!)

He runs a scan and finds out he has a lot to worry about. You can see the panic on his face and you know your fear was not misplaced. You’re pregnant.

His shoulders suddenly feel so heavy. Like a weight he is forced to carry, no matter how many times he tries to cast it aside. 

He doesn’t tell you about the burden. Not yet. You all talk through your options together, and you consider them heavily. You weigh the pros and cons of each option for days, but he doesn’t ever try to sway you one way or another. 

In fact, he becomes very distant. He locks himself away in the study, turning through a new book everyday. You can enter his study whenever you wish, but he barely acknowledges your entrance.

One day you’re talking about it with him, trying to decide what to do. It had only been about a week and a half since you found out, and Law’s cold shoulder has impacted you a bit. “What do you want to do?” you ask him.

He doesn’t respond. His nose is buried in a book, and you realize he hasn’t been listening the entire time. You suddenly burst into tears, upset with him and his coldness to you recently. “Just get it out,” you cry, punching at your stomach with your fists. “Get it out of me so we can get back to normal again.”

He looks up, surprised by your sudden outburst. “Hey, Y/N-ya! Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!” He jumps up and grabs your wrists to keep you from harming yourself further. 

“I’m tired of being alone!” you cry out, tears streaming down your face. “You can’t even look at me anymore! I just want things to be normal again.”

He’s staring at you, unsure of what to do or how to respond. He guides you over to a chair, still holding your wrists, and sits you down in it. He sits across from you. “I need to tell you a story,” he whispers, and he has your full attention.

He tells you the story of Flevance, and of the Amber Lead Disease he inherited. How his entire city disappeared in a matter of years. How there was no cure. How he was the only survivor.

You had known a piece of that story. Law had told you about Corazon and that he had helped secure the Op-Op fruit for Law to find a cure for his disease. But you hadn’t known the rest of the tragedy. 

“I’m scared,” he admits, his voice quivering. “Amber Lead Disease is passed down from generation to generation, and shortens the lifespan each time it’s passed on. My sister got sick when she was six. I was supposed to die before I was fourteen.”

“But you got better. You’re okay now,” you reassured him. But you could feel the panic growing inside of you now too. Of course he didn’t want to talk about a child with this kind of trauma weighing on his mind.

“It doesn’t mean that the symptoms are gone. Each generation, the life expectancies go down at least ten years. What if…” he hesitates, and you can feel his grip around your wrists tighten as he squeezes his eyes shut. “What if our child dies before it’s even born?”

You can feel his pain and his sorrow emitting from him. You lean forward and wrap him in a hug, holding him tight. You can hear him choke back a sob, and you allow yourself to cry too. Both of you just hold each other, letting all of your fear and anger and sorrow wash away with your tears. 

Both of you start to calm down after a very long cry. “I want to keep it,” you say finally. “I want to try.”

You feel Law nod, and his body relaxes just a minuscule amount. At least he won’t be alone this time. At least he’s cured it before. 

During the pregnancy, he’s more stressed than you. It’s a weird relationship having Law as both your boyfriend and your doctor, and sometimes you have to remind him which hat he’s wearing. 

He’s always giving you vitamin supplements in the morning and making sure your diet is perfectly balanced. Sometimes you go to eat something and he starts with “as a pregnant woman, you shouldn’t-” but a quick glare will usually quiet him down.

You have checkups and he runs scans on your body at least once a week. There are nights he can’t sleep, his mind riddled with what if’s, and he has to do a quick scan just to make sure you and baby are still okay. He breathes a sigh of relief each time your scan comes back clean, but he doesn’t let himself get too comfortable. 

Both of you have your days. Some days you’re over the moon, others you feel like your lives are ending. It’s a hard middle to find. Both of you typically stick to the extremes and manage to mellow each other out while also validating each other's fears.  

He cries when he finds out it’s a girl. 

He cries even harder when you offer up a name. Cora.

His devil fruit ability makes the childbirth thing insanely easy. The “pain of childbirth” was a foreign concept to you for the most part. 

He counts Cora’s fingers and toes, and then counts them again. 10 fingers, 10 toes. She’s perfect. Just looking at her, Law already knows he would die for her. 

He wraps his sweet baby girl up in a blanket and passes her off to you. He brushes your hair and kisses your face while you hold her. He’s resisting the urge to run every scan he can think of. You were adamant that the three of you needed a few minutes together as a family before he went full doctor on you both. 

Finally you hand Cora off to him. ��Go ahead, I know it’s driving you crazy.” He scans her, and finds her completely healthy. No Amber Lead Disease, no sickness, not even a slightly abnormal temperature. Law holds Cora close to his heart and he weeps. For his family, for himself, and for the new generation that’s finally free.

[base0h]

Hey!! I saw you write for op, so... Can i req something? 👀 Modern au but for kid & zoro with gn!s/o ✨ Thx!!

a/n - yes ofc!! Requests are welcome and greatly appreciated 💜 I hope that some headcanons plus a scenario is alr, ty anon! ✨

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, modern au, I’m so sorry I bully kid 👍

Modern Kid & Zoro headcanons + scenario

Zoro

- I’m sorry this guy didn’t get good grades in high school

- he missed most of his classes bec he couldn’t find the damn room 💀

- he needs you to help him study

- ends up falling asleep during study sessions 🗿

- “Zoro are you even listening..?”

- “Hm? 1765 was WWII right?”

- “…no.” ._.

- He wears all baggy clothes, except for when he wears a white tank top

- He’s super intimidating, so at first he seemed a bit scary

- But once you saw how he literally got lost with directions right in front of him- he wasn’t that scary anymore 👍

- Back when he was crushing on you, he literally stared at you ALL class

- he blames you for all of his failed tests 💀

- When you catch him staring, he’ll make up an excuse

- “Oh there was a bird behind you.”

- “Zoro. We’re inside the classroom.”

- embarrassment ensues

- he’s lowkey possessive in a relationship

- gets really jealous too

- If someone starts eyeing you up and down, prepare for the bulky arm that’s about to wrap around your waist

- if he’s feeling ✨extra✨ then he’ll squeeze your ass and look back at the guy with a smirk

- Man doesn’t want anyone looking at you like that if it isn’t him 👌

- He actually really likes cuddles but will never admit that to you

- His favorite is when you’re snuggled up against his side, resting the side of your face on his (tiddies) chest

- His heart melts when you start hugging his torso and wrapping your legs around him 🥺

- No fr he’s going to die right then and there when you do that

- If you try to move, he will NOT let you move

- Like don’t even try- his arm will hold you there until the end of time

- he doesn’t openly give affection, kind of thinks it’s too “cute” for him

- He’s tough and he’s a moss head 👍

- And he gets so embarrassed if you ask for hugs or kisses in public

- His cheeks turn bright red, and I mean BRIGHT red

- He’ll look around to make sure not the entire crowd is looking at you guys, and he’ll give you kisses “discreetly”

- “Just- I’ll kiss you when we get home!”

- man didn’t realize he just yelled that out loud 💀

- Oh god. Everyone’s looking now-

- He’s grabbing your hand and literally running tf outta there 🏃‍♀️💨

- lowkey a bit of a tsundere lmao

- He wants to stay all tough and aloof, but how’s he supposed to do that with you-??

- He can’t go a minute without thinking about you 🥺

- ok but please help him graduate high school 😭

Scenario - Study Sessions 📖

You’ve decided to take on the challenge of helping your boyfriend, Zoro, study for the upcoming math exam next week. You knew exactly how Zoro wasn’t the best at studying.. But you wanted him to actually pass math with a decent grade this year. A lot of sulking and pouting came from him as usual, “Y/n, I can pass the test without studying..” He said, walking through the doorway to your room. “You’re just going to stare at me or fall asleep.” You replied, grabbing the math textbooks, as well as all of the different supplies you needed. Zoro blushed at your comment, trying to hide his flustered expression, I mean… Your comment wasn’t exactly wrong. “It’s your fault I fail the tests!” He replied angrily with red tinting the tips of his ears. “How is that even my fault-??” You retorted while dropping the textbooks on the table in front of you two. Zoro looked to be dreading this, his face looked like the world was about to end- “Oh come on- it’s not the end of the world if you at least try to study for once. Even I study! I don’t like doing it!” You said to him as he sighed, crossing his arms with a huff. “Fine.” He agreed, sitting down at the table in front of you both.

You started to explain the different things that were listed on the study guide. First off was calculating interest rates, Zoro was already dying inside. He loved spending time with you, but math ruins everything (it rlly does). “Ok, so then how would you do this problem?” You asked him, pointing at one of the word problems on the page. “I don’t give a shit about how Jonah has 45 apples that cost 3 dollars a month that increases by- whatever that number is.” He sighed with an irritated look on his face. You snickered at his comment, I mean he wasn’t wrong, these word problems were dumb as fuck. When he was writing down the process of the strategy of the problem, you peered over his shoulder, checking his work as he went. You were surprised, he was actually listening to what you were saying earlier! Is this a miracle? He hasn’t even fallen asleep yet 👍 Maybe all Zoro needed was some motivation? You didn’t have much to motivate him other than yourself, so maybe if you gave him some head pats it’d motivate him? You thought the idea was kind of dumb- but maybe it’d work on the moss head of a boyfriend. When he finished his work, he showed you the paper while you glanced over each number carefully. “Wow! Good boy Zoro.” You said, patting his head. You didn’t mean to say “good boy” it kind of just came out that way. You meant to say, “Good job” instead of good boy 💀 The room had a god awful moment of awkward silence. “What did you just say?” He asked, still wondering if you actually just said that. You didn’t answer, you just hid your face in the paper you were checking for him. Suddenly, his hand ripped the paper out of your hands and threw it across the room in a rush. He almost tackled you down, his movements were fast and strong. His strong arms pinned yours above your head, his waist nestling in between your legs.

“Good boy huh?” He asked you with a smirk, leaning down and starting to kiss along your collar, trailing up your neck, leaving little nips at your skin. He leaned towards your ear, laughing softly, his breath tickling your ears. His hand trailed down towards your stomach, holding your waist with his warm and coarse hands. “You’re the one that started this, are you gonna help me fix it?” He whispered into your ear, kissing your jawline softly. You nodded slowly, taken aback by his swift actions. When he laughed, it sent vibrations up your neck, making you shiver. “Good y/n.”

Kid

- He’s the guy who’s always heading to the principal’s office bec he said rude shit to the teacher 👍

- or he beat someone up

- or he “was being a dIsRuptIon iN cLaSs”

- all three tbh

- Yes you walk him to the principal’s everytime since the teacher trusts you more than Killer 💀

- No like he’s really smart! Just too angry lmao

- He could get literal straight As if he wanted to, but he doesn’t give a shit about school so-

- He doesn’t have to study for tests he already knows what’s on it, but still fails it bec he’s either busy bothering Killer or he’s saying rude things to the teacher

- “Not my fault you’re single- bitch.”

- “Office, now.”

- “Fuck this shit.”

- You always struggle to hide your laughs when this happens lmao

- he’s the guy no one even dares to look at, like they’re all deathly afraid of him

- Not only is literally fucking massive- he also has the angriest expression on his face 24/7 (rbf x10)

- Then you wave hello to him and he’s like: “oh- hey y/n.”

- Everyone: wtf. 🗿

- He’s soft only to you and sometimes killer

- He doesn’t yell at you as often as he does to other people lmao

- Oh and also I feel like he’d have this kinda dog

- His name is Cabbage (his fav food is cabbage rolls👍) idk why I thought of cabbage 😭

- He LOVES his dog sm- like when he gets home he’s like every dog owner

- “Ayyyy Cabbage!! I’m back boy!”

- It’s adorable I’m dying now 🥺

- Once you come over to his house, and you meet his dog, holy shit the dog loves you

- That’s a sign bro- 👀

- man instantly trusts you since his dog fucking loves you sm lmao

- You love cuddling with the doggy 🥺 it’s so fluffy and adorable

- It’s also 160lbs so be prepared :)

- Kid is kind of embarrassed about showing affection in public- like Zoro, he thinks it’s too “soft and cute”

- But if someone is like- eyeing you up and down? prepare for violence

- I don’t think that guy was ok after kid dealt with him

- Oh and you had to walk him to the office again 👍

- when he was crushing on you, his personality will completely change when he’s talking to you-

- “SHUT THE FUCK UP- oh hey y/n. I SWEAR TO FUCKIN-“

- ._.

- he turned tulip colored when he accidentally confessed to you

- “Oh yeah I like someone!” -you (let’s say you liked him too)

- “Yeah me too, it’s you- I MEAN- THE FUCK-“

- Man- 😭

- he even rehearsed this and it still went all wrong 💀

- oh and killer filmed the whole thing while hiding behind a pillar

- he got chased by kid for at least an hour after that 👌

Scenario - It all went wrong 💀

Kid was looking at himself in his mirror. He had a piece of crumpled up paper in his hands. He kept looking up and down, from the paper and then back to his reflection. “Uh- y/n- I like you. No fuck that sounds weird.” He’s been rehearsing his script for about an hour with Killer laying on the floor with a pillow over his face. Poor Killer had to endure all of Kid’s ranting about how amazing you were and how much he liked you. But, he was glad that his best friend had finally found someone like you, he thought you two would be perfect for each other! “I’ve liked you for a while… FUCK THAT SOUNDS LIKE AN ANIME- KILLER ARE YOU LISTENING?!” He threw the piece of paper at Killer’s stomach. Killer grumbled, moving the pillow as he sat upright, rubbing his eyes. “Kid. Just go do it. Standing here and talking to the reflection isn’t gonna help.” He said with a sigh, stretching his arms out behind him. “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED I EVEN FUCKING PRACTICE-!” He yelled back, pacing back and forth, angrily stomping around with frustration. Good god he was so nervous to tell you those words. It was embarrassing for him, the huge, terrifying giant, Eustass Kidd. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way for you, not at all. But it was something about your smile, the way you carried yourself around, the way you’d always walk him to the office everyday. Those little moments made Kid’s heart flutter like it never has before.

He decided it. He’s just gonna go and do it. Not that hard right? He’s Eustass Kidd after all! As he walked down the stairs, his dog, Cabbage went to greet him happily, sitting in front of him with a visible smile on his face. “Ok, Cabbage, I’m gonna go finally tell Y/n. Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asked his dog, putting his hands on Cabbage’s head, ruffling his fluffy ears. Cabbage barked softly, head butting him gently as Kid laughed, “Alright, see ya Cabbage.” He said, patting his head before walking out the door. Killer peered down the stairway, gazing at the dog who barked at the door, seemingly saying goodbye to his best friend. “Do you understand him..?” Killer asked the dog. Cabbage whined inquisitively, tilting his head to the side as if he was confused. “Damn it now I’m talking to the fuckin’ dog..” He muttered to himself, walking down the rest of the stairs and opening the door. When Killer left, Cabbage laid on the ground, his head resting on his paws, his long ears almost covering his eyes. Now, he waited.

You were walking back to your house from some extra classes you had at school. Fatigue started to get to you, three more hours of math wasn’t exactly the most energizing thing in the universe.. Your head hung kind of low as you held both straps of your backpack. Kid saw you walking on the other side of the street, and he started to run across the busy streets. Horns blared as he jumped over several cars and dodged the approaching trucks. You looked in the direction of the ruckus, seeing Eustass Kidd sprinting towards you, barely escaping at least 6 car crashes. “Kid what the hell-?! The cross walk was literally over there!” You yelled, pointing at the intersection probably about four feet from where he decided to run across the street. Kid thought to himself, Ok- this is it- wait Killer said I’m supposed to lead into the subject. How the fuck do I do this-??? Kid asked himself, clenching his fists with anxiety. “Do you like anyone??” He finally asked, the awkward silence that spread in the air almost killed you both. NOT THAT SUBTLE IDIOT- he thought to himself, ready to die on the inside. “Uh- yeah why-?? do you like anyone?” You asked with a confused expression. Why was he asking you this? Was he going to tell you a crush of his?? You liked him.. But, you weren’t really sure if someone like Eustass Kidd could like you back.. “Oh uh- yeah, it’s you-“ He replied before stopping and realizing what he just said. His whole face turned bright red, What the fuck did I just say..?? He asked himself, internally panicking. He felt dizzy, he didn’t just tell you that on accident right? “You.. Like me? Really?” You asked softly, trying to confirm what he just said. Kid looked unbelievably frozen and lost, he was still trying to figure out how the fuck he confessed accidentally.

Killer was standing behind a pillar, holding his phone up discreetly, filming this entire situation for later. He’d make fun of Kidd afterwards. He almost couldn’t contain his laughter when Kidd accidentally confessed to you. He didn’t even know anyone could do that, but if it was Kid, anything’s possible. He didn’t realize that the direction of the sun was diagonal from his phone camera, so it slightly reflected some light in Kid’s direction. He didn’t even notice that it was shining right in his eyes-! “Where the fuck is that stupid light coming from-?!” He yelled, staring in Killer’s direction, squinting before having the most embarrassed, angry, and shocked expression on his face. “YOU FUCKIN-!” He started to yell, sprinting full speed towards Killer. He instantly got up from his position and started to run- what else was he supposed to do-?? “Wait- Kid! I- like you too!” You yelled to him, making him turn around with a blush on his cheeks. “Just wait there! I have to murder Killer!” He yelled, continuing to chase down his best friend. You couldn’t help but giggle, Kid always made you laugh, no matter how you were feeling. You felt so happy that he liked you back, maybe all those trips to the office weren’t so bad after all. <3

a/n - god this took me so long- school started up again for me 💀 I hope you enjoy angry man and moss head :)

<3

[detectivehannibal]

Studying with Hannibal Lecter

__

Hannibal Lecter x Student! Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cock warming.

Request: Hannibal x fem student reader? She’s trying to focus amd write her exam online but hanni gets horny from watching her?smut pleeeeeeaze

A/N: Disclaimer that the reader is over the age of 18!

__

Going back to college you finish your education was one of the best and worst ideas you ever had.

There were definitely pros and cons to the situation.

The pros were that you were working toward achieving something that you could use for the rest of your life.

You would be able to consider yourself an expert in your field.

Not to mention the bragging rights.

On the flip side, you were always slammed with work and all the studying you were doing was giving you flash backs to high school.

It didn’t help that you were a perfectionist, and that you would literally study until you fell asleep or Hannibal dragged you away to bed.

Hannibal is more than happy to share his home office with you, allowing you to sit at his large desk and use whatever material you might need.

Hannibal tries not to bother you when you’re studying or working on an assignment.

He’ll poke his head in every so often to make sure you don’t need anything.

He’ll bring you tea, coffee, a snack, etc.

You name it and he’ll get it for you.

Sometimes though, you’ll ask him to come sit with you so you can chat while you work.

You knew that going back to school had taken your attention off of him and he was beginning to feel distant from you.

So you try to reach out to him as best you can.

He’ll pull up a chair and sit next to you.

Sometimes he’ll even do some of his own work and the two of you will work together and make small talk.

He did what he could to lower your stress levels.

He wanted you to be successful.

But sometimes your workload was just too much.

There was one evening particular where you were REALLY stressed out.

Like, you came home and holed yourself up in his office without saying a word.

It sparked him as odd, considering that you always took the time to ask him about his day, no matter what you had to do.

He waited a couple of hours before going to check on you.

He stood near the doorway, watching as you typed furiously on your laptop.

He originally wasn’t going to say anything, but the longer he watched, the more...aroused that he got.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint why something as simple as you working hard got him hot and bothered.

He figured it was because he hadn’t really been intimate with you in a while.

That and there was something so attractive about seeing you so focused on something.

He approached you quietly in his socked feet.

He rested his hands on your shoulders carefully, breaking you from your trance.

“Hey, Hanni.” was all you could really muster to say at the moment.

“My love...why don’t you take a break?”

Normally, that was all it took for you to tear away for a bit,

But today you were determined to power through.

“No, I can’t. I’ve got to finish this.” 

“You’ve been working for far too long. I really wish you’d take a break.”

His thumbs started rubbing at the tense muscles in your shoulder, making his offer so hard to refuse.

He could see the stress on your face and he could practically smell the tension.

You needed some relief...some stress relief.

“Just 15 minutes. That’s all I ask for.”

His lips had fallen to your neck now, kissing and sucking softly.

A sigh escaped your chest, reluctance coursing through you.

But eventually, you agreed.

Hannibal stood you up from the desk chair, only to sit down himself and pull you on his lap.

You straddled him, the two of you making out and sharing passionate “I love yous”.

You felt bad when you felt how needy his kisses were.

They said nothing short of “I’ve missed you”.

Hannibal started to get handsy, his fingertips teasing the waistband of your shorts.

His hard on was obvious underneath you.

He slipped your shorts off of your legs while you worked on getting his belt and pants off.

He turned you around to where you were facing the desk again, raising you and lowering you down onto his erection.

The moan that you let out was music to his ears.

You went to start moving, but his hand stopped you from doing so.

“Hannibal, what-”

“Go on, darling. Read to me what you have so far.”

He had to be kidding.

He did all this to get you to stop working and now he wanted you to review it?

You tried to shift your hips to get some kind of friction, but he held you extremely still.

You started to read off of your laptop screen.

You were stuttering through it, an occasional curse sounding out.

He was buried deep inside of you.

His tip prodding at your cervix.

He made noises of interest and affirmation as you read, clearly impressed with what you had so far.

He turned down all of your pleas, prompting you to keep going.

You finished reading, ignoring the way that the words had began to blur.

You were begging now.

“Hannibal, please fuck me.”

“But I thought you liked feeling me like this?”

“I do, but...it’s so much better when you’re moving. Please, baby, I promise I’ll be good.”

Finally, Hannibal couldn’t bear to hear your whimpers anymore,

He wanted to make you feel good.

He lifted you off of his dick momentarily to turn you back around.

He took a second to marvel at how you had soaked him.

You barely waited to sink down onto him completely before you started rolling your hips against him.

Hannibal groaned in your ear, his voice rumbling and low.

He guided your hips in a rhythm, loving the way you bounced on his lap.

You angled yourself back a bit so he’d hit your g-spot every time you landed back onto him.

He wanted to get you to a fast, but good orgasm.

His fingers rubbed at your sensitive clit to bring you closer to your finish.

He thrusted up into you hard.

Each new thrust melting away more and more of your stress.

He sucked hickeys on your neck and praised you endlessly.

“You’re so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Such a good girl. You’re so perfect.”

He worked you until you unraveled around him, your release hitting you full force with a flash of white.

He came inside of you, milking your walls white.

Your head fell onto his shoulder as you went limp, too tired to move.

His hands rubbed over your back as your breathings returned to normal.

He left sweet, lazy kisses wherever he could.

Your voice sounded out shortly after, drawing a laugh from him.

“I think...I can stop here for the night.”

[ironwoman359]

This is probably not the best place to ask, but you’re also a Christian woman too. I was wondering what you thought about what the Bible says about women and how we must submit to husbands and some other stuff that has me (a potential ace) Christain woman kind of terrified. I would go to my church but social anxiety and my church is pretty conservative. I don’t want to think that we’re just second rate citizens with this. Um…that’s all. You don’t have to answer. Love your Tumblr. It’s one of the main ones I look at. Thanks for countless enjoyment!

— — —

(I’m responding on the submission and not the ask because the ask refused to post properly, I think it was too long for Tumblr’s fancy)

So I know you just asked for my thoughts and not a biblical interpretation lesson, but I didn’t spend 3 months writing an exegesis in college for me to never use those skills again, so buckle up for something of a long answer! (literally, this is almost 3 thousand words, so....sorry about that) *rubs hands together* The thing we need to take into consideration when reading the bible is Interpretation; any truly honest biblical scholar would tell you it is a mistake to take every word in the bible at its literal face value, ESPECIALLY since most of us are reading translations of scripture, not the original ancient hebrew/greek/aramaic/whatever else. So when interpreting scripture, we must consider these things:

Author (Who wrote it?)

Audience (Who was it written for?)

Context (What is written around it?)

So the verses you’re referencing are Ephesians 5:22-23, and in the NIV, they read as follows:

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Isolated from author, audience, and context, they sound pretty sexist, don’t they? And male authority figures have used these verses as justification for the oppression of women for centuries, just as white men used the passage only a few verses away, Ephesians 6:5, as justification for the oppression and ownership of black people (Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ). So let’s look at each of the points above in regards to Ephesians 5 and 6. First, who wrote it? Sometimes that can be a tricky question to answer, but in this case, it’s actually very easy (though there is still a bit of fuzziness/debate). Traditionally, Ephesians is one of the Apostle Paul’s letters to the early church. Specifically, to the body of believers in Ephesus, a Greek city that was a part of the Roman Empire at the time. According to two different study bibles I have, the letter of Ephesians was not addressing any particular problem that the church in Ephesus had (as was often the case with Paul’s letters), but was meant as an encouragement of faith and to increase his readers’ understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. So now what about the Context? Why are the verses at the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6 so damning to our modern sensibilities? To answer that, we must look at the passages both in context to the verses around them, and in historical and cultural context (which is where 1 & 2 come into play again). Going back to the beginning of chapter 4, which is subtitled “Unity in the Body of Christ” (and remember, these subtitles and groupings were come up with LONG after they were written; we grouped sections together in a way we thought was most logical, which honestly for a book as short as Ephesians I would argue is barely even necessary), we can see that the letter from chapter 4 onward is about living a Holy and Godly life. Chapter 4 urges us to be “completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love” and warns us against living “as the Gentiles* do, in the futility of their thinking.” *Gentiles in this case meaning not neccesarily all non-Jews, but non-believers. AKA, we should live like Jesus lived, WWJD and all that jazz. If the Holy Spirit is in our hearts and our relationship with God is at the forefront of our lives, then that should show clearly in our actions. The very first verse of chapter 5 reads “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Chapters 5 and 6 especially are meant to act as a sort of guide for how a follower of Christ should act. There’s some stuff about obscenity, greed, sexual impurity, 5:15 sums it up pretty well basically, “Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise,” and then we reach the all important verse. Ephesians 5:21, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” That’s a full sentence, just that there. Submit to one another. The following three sections are all subsections of this point: one for Wives submitting to Husbands, one for Children submitting to Parents, and one for Slaves submitting to Masters. But when looking at all of these, bad shepherds (ie, racist, sexist assholes) like to ignore that first bit, submit to one another, just as they like to ignore 5:28, which says “husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself;” or they ignore 6:4 which says “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord;” and they ignore 6:9, “Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him.” I do highly encourage you to read chapters 4, 5, and 6 in full, or at least start at 4:17, which is where Paul starts talking about “Living as Children of Light,” because it makes the intent of these apparently damning verses much more clear. Paul is stating that as Christians, we should treat everyone around us with honor and respect. According to one of my study bibles, the grammar of the original Greek suggests that the “submission” involved in all three sections is intended to be mutual submission, and is to come from a filling of the Holy Spirit. However, to be quite frank, Paul still Lived In A Society. A highly structured, patriarchal society, in which all members of a household (women, children, slaves) were expected to submit to the patriarchal head of that household. Male children until they reached adulthood, Slaves until they were freed (remember that, while by no means a purely morally good thing, the system of Roman Slavery was VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Atlantic Slave Trade that men later used this passage to justify existing), and women, unfortunately, for their whole lives. In another one of his letters, what is now the book of Galatians, Paul says in chapter 3 verse 27-29 that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” This would have been radical at the time. Paul is promising all people of all genders and classes that, in the eyes of God, they are Equal, One, and all “sons,” meaning that they all have a right to the Inheritance of the Father (remember, at this time and in this culture women did not get any inheritance, and younger sons got significantly less than the firstborn. Paul assures the believers that they ALL are equal receivers of the Promises of God). But this equality that Paul speaks of was, in his eyes, a spiritual equality. He was not particularly concerned with overthrowing the earthly patriarchal society that subjugated women and lower classes, but rather instructed all members of that society who also were Believers to submit equally to one another out of love and respect, for they were all Equal in God’s eyes and would be Equal in heaven. This is why he both tells women to submit to and obey their husbands, but also husbands to love, cherish, and care for their wives. Children, obey your parents, but Fathers, don’t be dicks to your kids. Slaves should obey their masters (slavery was much more like a job that you weren’t allowed to quit until your boss said so) but Masters shouldn’t abuse their slaves. There are Societal Authorities, and Paul is telling his readers “look you can’t just go around not respecting those Authorities, but also hey, if you’re the Authority? That’s not a free pass to be an asshole.” As one of my study bibles puts it, “Paul counseled all believers to submit to one another by choice…this kind of mutual submission preserves order and harmony in the family while it increases love and respect among family members.” Paul is basically saying “it’s better for everyone if we all get along, and remember that Christ had a servant’s heart, and intentionally lowered himself for us, so we should do the same for each other.” And while a patriarchal class system is still super sucky for like 80% of the people involved, at least it’s a whole lot more bearable if everyone involved is being a Nice, Good Member of that Society. You mentioned being worried about being treated like a “second rate citizen.” The fact of the matter is that when this was written, women were second rate citizens; that is the context in which Paul is writing. And while I firmly believe that that was wrong, in every sense of the word, Paul wasn’t especially concerned about challenging that aspect of society. Priority one was “Spread the Gospel” and Priority two was “Don’t Get Killed while Spreading the Gospel.” Speaking of Paul, let’s talk a little more about Saul of Tarsus, shall we? In all literary analysis, it is important to examine the author’s beliefs and what biases may have made their way into the work. And while we believe the bible to be a Holy Book, it can and should be subject to the same rules of literary analysis as non-religious texts. First, you must ask yourself, what do you believe about the bible? There are four general ways of looking at it (which are called Theories of Inspiration).

The bible is the Divine Word of God, dictated word for word across centuries directly to its human authors by God Himself.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. While they are writing in their own words, this Inspiration means that the bible is Wholly Perfect with no errors.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. However, because they are imperfect, fallible men, there is a possibility of errors in the text, both in the account of events that happened and in the teaching therein.

The bible is a collection of accounts written by men, with no Divine Intervention from God. It is not Holy, God’s Word, or Infallible.

I was raised to believe theory 2, but now I personally believe theory 3. And since I’m the author of this analysis, it is through the lens and bias of theory 3 that I now present my next point: Paul was sexist. I don’t think he was maliciously so (see again, Galatians 3, and the statement in Ephesians 5 that men should honor, cherish, and care for their wives), but he was a product of his time who had ingrained ideas about women and their place in society. This does not A) mean he was right about how women should act OR B) mean that we should toss out everything he had to say, about women or otherwise, because he was Problematic. Most biblical authors were, in fact, Problematic. Either by our modern standards, due to the time in which they lived, OR by the standards of their own time, because God liked to use Imperfect People (we’re all imperfect, but He liked particularly imperfect people) in His plans. David was an adulterer and murderer. Paul happily sent dozens of Christians to their deaths. Peter was hotheaded and super prejudiced against Gentiles and Samaritans. And most of them were, in one way or another, sexist, racist, and homophobic. These biases then found their way, intentionally or not, into their writings, and then other racist, sexist, homophobic men used those writings to justify systemic oppression of anyone who was not like them. Oppression that is not Christlike. So where does that leave us, in our 21st century application of scripture to our daily lives? We must examine how it was to be read at the time (which we have done), and then see what we can apply from it to our own lives. For myself in my marriage, I look again to the original grammar of Ephesians 5, that indicates the submission is to be mutual. I “submit” to my husband, and he “submits” to me. In other words, our relationship is built on Trust, Clear Communication, and Respect for one another. Sometimes we have to compromise, and I have to put aside my own desires for his sake, or he must set aside his own desires for my sake. It is a willingness to listen to one another, to approach conflicts with an open mind, to consider each other’s feelings before we speak. It is an equal, mutual submission based on love for each other, which doesn’t contradict what Paul says at all. God created all people to be equal. Humans are stupid sometimes and try to insist that we know better, try to create hierarchies and use the bible to try and justify that, but that doesn’t mean those humans are right. If your church is trying to make you feel less than because of your gender, or if you date somebody who pushes TradWife rhetoric and tries to use Ephesians as their justification, then you Run, and feel justified in doing so. (Especially if they also try to use Paul’s words to tell you why you owe your partner sex; see again, Paul was not only sexist but also lived in a patriarchal time when women were second class citizens that had very specific expectations placed on them AND he wasn’t even in a relationship himself, forgive me if I take his advice on my sex life with a grain of salt. Without doing this whole process again, a good modern reading of “don’t deprive one another” is “don’t use sex as a weapon in your relationship/withhold it for bs reasons when you’re mad at each other, etc. Like all other relationship things, sex (or a lack thereof) with your spouse should be based on mutual trust, communication, and love, not petty arguments or the standards of others.)

Trust me, as an ace woman myself, I totally get the fear. I’ve felt it myself, in the past. But God’s intentions for you are not that you become a doormat or servant to a man. If a romantic relationship (or any other partnership) is part of His plan for you, then the bible clearly states, both in Ephesians and elsewhere, that it should be one built on Love and Trust, not Subjugation and Servitude.

I hope this helped you, and again, sorry it was so long XD. Have an amazing day! <3

[zawasdarkcirclez]

How Bakusquad Asks You to Prom

Mina Ashido:

-Mina’s definitely got something really pretty planned

-She’s most likely a little dressed up with a cute little dress on

-This is all taking place in the common area

-Everybody besides you knew what was happening and were hiding in the corners of the room and against the wall

-Aizawa was even there claiming that he felt most comfortable if there was a teacher and adult present with all of these candles burning Mina, Denki, and Sero filled him in one day when he was trying to grade papers

-In reality though, he just wanted to be there to see how it would play out after hearing all the talk about it

-Y’all do be his kids after all

-You keep getting texts from Mina and everyone telling you Aizawa is calling everybody to the commons right now and that you’re late as hell

-You’re out of breath running to the room and realize you don’t see the lights on from where you stand

- Walking in however, you’re greeted with soft jazz music

-Mina standing in the middle of the room with a bouquet of flowers

-In front of her on the floor are candles spelling out “Prom?”

-Not gonna lie she’s a little nervous

-Fingers fiddling for sure

“HEY-uh Y/n.. PROM??“

-You said yes no doubt. Sorry I don’t make the rules

-You were literally stunned, she looked amazing, everything looked so cute, the effort was there. CONGRATULATIONS you won

-Everybody of course had to then hop out from the darkness of the room cheering and recording as you and Mina hug

-Queue Denki + Sero dapping each other up

-Midoriya tearing up

-Mineta full on crying because Mina is now taken

-Todoroki still standing by the wall 🧍‍♂️

-You and Mina definetly had some of the best prom fits

Katsuki Bakugo:

-You were already dating Katsuki, leading him to believe you were well aware that you were going to prom with him

-So when he overheard Momo ask you about plans for prom and you responded saying

-”Oh, prom? ...I’m not really sure I’m doing all that.”

-He was STOMP.ING over and Momo was tiptoeing away not wanting to get caught in another one of his outbursts

-”What the hell do you mean you’re not doing that?!”

-”You don’t want to go with me or what?!”

-”Did I do something? If I made you upset, you should have said something, Dumbass!!”

-”Actually, you know what, I don’t care! You’re going.”

-”With me!”

-You rolled your eyes jokingly

-”Well that sure is one way to ask.” you chuckled and patted his side walking away to go back to your desk

-You were not complaining by any means, but with the intensity of Katsuki’s ability to read behind your words, he knew he was picking up on something else

-Thinking back, he did notice the little way your eyes would glow as your friends were getting asked left and right

-Even when Bakugo mumbles beside you about “Why the hell’s he doing all this like she’s not already his girlfriend.”

-You’ve seen posters, candies, gifts etc.

-But all you truly wanted was for Bakugo to possibly let down a wall of his and utter the same words to you

-But you would never ever push him to do it, in fear of overstepping a boundary

-This in mind though, and with Bakugo being as invested and in love with you as he is, and not willing to admit, he plans something little so you can have a little moment to blab to your friends about too or whatever 🙄

-He’ll be damned if its in public though

-For sure expect to be woken up late at night, leaving you surprised considering yk his bedtime and all

-He’s shaking your shoulder and grumbling to you to “Wake your ass up, or I’ll leave.”

-You turn seeing Bakugo with a candle he over burnt a little bit with his quirk, your favorite snack, a teddy bear, and a little jewelry box

-“Will you uhh..” his eyes dart away from you and he hears you giggle

-”Shut up!! ... ”

-”Will you go to prom with me, Y/n?” he asks shoving the snacks and bear a little in your direction

-”Of course Katsu.”

-He smirked, opening the jewelry box

-”And you make sure to wear this little beauty around that neck of yours at this damn dance, okay?”

Denki Kaminari:

-I’m sorry but you completely spoiled Denki’s surprise

-Well it was a team effort

-He had already accidentally said too much one day without realizing so you knew he most definitely had “Something exciting to ask you”

-But bbbbruh

-The panic everyone screamed in when you randomly walked into Denki’s room while him and the rest of the Bakusquad decorated

-He jumped off the little ladder he was standing on in the corner and turned you around by your shoulders ushering you out

-”ahHa ha...”

-It’s silent for a couple second while you both plan what to say now

Simultaneously:

-“Denki I am SOOO sorry“

and

-”A little earlier than planned”

-Everyone has an ear pressed against the door at this point to listen

-”Well..surprise! I’ll tell you what though,”

-His hands reached for yours

-”I’m a liiittle busy right now.. You know what for, but let’s pretend you don’t.”

-He turns speed walking and dragging you with him

-”So you go relax for a little bit, do some studying or something. Put on one of your cute little outfits, and I’ll be by later to come get you because you’ve got a hot date in my room say around..8:30?”

-You nod, catching your breath and realized he has delivered you all the way back to your own dorm

-Before you could turn and ask any other questions, that boy is booking it around the corner to get back to his room

-Upon walking in he is greeted with bunches of “what happened?”s from his friends and a slap to the back of his head from Bakugo

-Yes they somehow got Bakugo to help

-”Guys! Guys! We’re good, why did nobody keep decorating? Come on people we have until 8:25 and then you all have got to go!”

-Fast forward to 8:30, he’s opening the door for you and guiding you inside with a hand on your back

-He’s cheesing like a fool I promise you

-Sure you already saw part of it but not nearly the end result

-”So, will you go to prom with me?”

-”Uhm, YES!”

-Y’all can hear Sero and Kiri hooting and cheering from Bakugo’s room across the hall followed by a

-”Shut up or get out you idiots!!”

-You and Denki definitely won the top spots in the Prom Court

Eijiro Kirishima:

-Kiri definitely has a little cliche possibly cringe idea he saw online

-But it’s still cute as hell because I mean hello it’s Kirishima

-All his friends were struggling planning things while he was sitting there CHILLEN

-Denki turned like “Uhhh..Bro, you all set or something? You’re looking mighty not-busy over here.”

-”Yeah man. This was eeasyy. I found exactly what I wanted to do. They’ll love it.”

-By this point everyone had been listening, and then he was bombarded with several voices asking for ideas and inspiration from him

-All voices went silent though when he whipped out his phone to show them

-”Dude.”

-”You’re joking.”

-”Tch. Dumbass..”

-He’s not even a little worried about their reactions

-If there’s one thing he knows it’s YOU

-And YOU love anything Kirishima does 

-Let’s not lie we’re all whipped

-And y’all are just some chill ass individuals and cornballs with the same humor

-He spends the entire evening that day drawing out his sign and gathering things he needs and whatnot

-When you walk into class greeted with some yummy food and cheesy saying on your desk, you smirked knowing it was the one and only

-”Surprisee!” he would sing wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek

-”Pretty manly, huh?”

-When the rest of the class sees how it actually turned out in comparison to the picture he showed, they kinda regretted trying to get on him

-Especially since you were right in front of them enjoying it

-Shit was kinda sweet

-Ya know, seeing y’all be all perfect for each other and all

-”Ah, you’re so cute. It’s great!” your face was lighting up as you plopped down in your seat

-The rest of class everyone was still stressing between lessons about their own prom situations

-And cutting their eyes at you and Kiri

-The two of you are now sitting side by side, his arm around you shoulders and both of your mouths full of sushi

-Prom is literally a dream with this man

-I feel like he would dress with the most casually classy look

-Velcro shoes acquired  😎

-Y’all are so in love you don’t even realize how visible it is

-The whole night is you two soo lost in each other uhghh

Hanta Sero:

-Sero is cool as fuck

-I just had to say that first sorreh

-He’d definitely do something real low-key and cute

-It’s not anything public or in front of everybody and their mother

-The two of you hang out by yourselves and have little ~dates~ and what not kind of often

-So him knocking at your dorm door telling you to get ready to go in 30 minutes was nothing suspicious

-After a light walk from campus y’all reached a point where he told you to close your eyes and let him guide you

-Considers covering your eyes with his tape but doesn't want to end up literally yanking off your eyebrows when he takes it off

-You settle for one hand over your eyes, and one hand in his

-Sero almost knocks you into stuff on purpose and you know it

-But eventually he’s telling you to open your eyes and 

- 🥲

-A literal gasp

-”Ohh my gosh! Sero!? What is this!?”

-You’re literally bouncin up and down

-A whole little picnic has been set up in the middle of some random park by the school just for the two of you

-He’s just smiling and rubbing at the back of his neck

-He’s cool, but he can’t lie, especially when it comes to you, he’s a liiittle bit of a uhh wreck?

-Just hides it like an expert

-”Have a seat”

-He’ll take your hand as you sit to help you wibudfverkfcj;e

-Y’all are snacking and chatting, snacking and chatting

-Everything is literally perfect with him, genuinely so nice to be around

-Around when the sun is almost getting ready to set and the two of you are thinking about heading back to the dorms he stops you for a second

-”Uhm, Y/n. I’m just gonna cut straight to it.”

-”You wanna go to prom with me?”

-He’s looking straight into your soul I swear

-You tell him you’d love too and boooy oh boy the weight off this man’s shoulders

-Everyone wonders what went down when the two of you walk back into the building hand in hand and giggling and smiling with each other

-Of course the two of you nonchalantly fill them in when they ask, but the best details stayed between the two of you

[ificanthaveu]

Don’t Tell The RA || Shawn Mendes

Description: RA!Shawn asks for your help with studying for your final exam, but an RA should always expect the unexpected. 

A/N: Happy 1st day of my semi-not-really-ficmas! I’m positive I’ve used every winter/Christmas themed fic idea, but I scrounged together a few so here’s the first of the installment. These’ll probably all be pretty short (except for 1 probably bc i have a lot of ideas for it). Also.....if this gif doesn’t look like RA!Shawn trying to get his freshmen boys to stfu so they can start and end the hall meeting ASAP.

Word Count: 2.4k

You were the first person out of the room when your History professor dismissed you, meeting your awaiting roommate Micah across the hall. The two of you started walking back to your dorm without much of a word until she launched into how difficult her calculus exam is going to be.

“At least it’s related to your major. I’m about to fail a gen-ed,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “I’ve never liked History, and this is a literal nightmare.”

“Hey, only one more test, and we’re done,” she reminded you.

Before you could respond to her, you heard your name being yelled from behind you. The both of you stopped and turned around to see Shawn maneuvering his way in and out of people, his tall stature poking out from the rest as you smiled at him.

“Have you started studying for the final yet?” He asked as he fell into step with you and Micah, making your way out of the building.

You practically snorted with a head shake before you said, “Absolutely not. I’ve been so caught up in my biology classes that I’ve barely started looking at this. It’s not looking good for me.”

“We get it. You’re pre-med,” Micah mumbled before you elbowed her.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve cracked open the textbook since the first week,” he said.

“Oh, you opened yours? Mine’s still in the plastic wrap,” you said as proud as you could.

That earned a laugh from Shawn as he shook his head at you.

“You may be worse off than I am,” he said.

He paused for a moment, looking between you and where he had to turn to go to the freshman dorms, opposite campus from the junior ones.

“Would you wanna study tonight?” He asked.

You heard Micah choke on her breath as you prayed he didn’t hear it.

“Yeah, I definitely need it,” you replied.

“Can’t do it in our room,” Micah interjected quickly. “Josie is coming over for calc.”

“We can study at mine,” he said. “If that’s ok with you of course. We just might get interrupted by check-out questions.”

“Sounds just fine with me. I could never do what you do,” you said, looking up at him as he shrugged and looked away, the blush almost evident on his cheeks.

“Well, my room and board is paid for, so I’ll deal with throwing up freshmen in the bathroom at 2 am,” he said. “Does 7 work?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said as you turned to go towards your dorm. “See you then.”

Micah followed behind you as you began to cross campus, waiting until you were clearly out of earshot of Shawn.

“You really had to say we couldn’t do it in our dorm?” You asked as you gripped onto her wrist and she laughed. “Now I have to be extra alone with him.”

“That’s the point,” she said flatly. “Don’t act like you haven’t been staring at him all semester. That man is the total package.”

“And we’re studying together, nothing else,” you quickly pointed out.

“Well it may start that way but-“ you cut her off before she could finish.

“Don’t say something that won’t come true,” you said as you swiped into the building and walked up the stairs to your dorm.

“You wish it will though,” she said in a sing-song voice as you unlocked your door and pushed her in.

“So what are you wearing?” She asked as she whipped open your closet.

“I’m not changing,” you said.

Micah turned around and looked up and down at your sweatpants and sweatshirt with a look of disgust.

“Can you at least put leggings on and a clean sweatshirt? Maybe put your hair in a pony-tail instead of that bun that looks like it was slept in - scratch that - a bun that was slept in,” she said as she threw you a pair of black leggings and a school crewneck.

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled as you changed.

“You’ll thank me later,” she called after you.

It had started snowing by the time 6:45 came around, and you began your trip across campus. You were regretting not wearing a jacket as you shivered and crossed your arms tightly around your chest.

The person at the front desk smiled at you as you made your way up to Shawn’s dorm, scanning the rooms for the one that said “Residential Assistant” on the front.

You knocked twice once you found it, rocking back and forth on your feet and trying to shake the cold. You glanced around at the winter-themed decorations around the hall before Shawn swung the door open.

“Hey,” he said brightly with that big smile that made you weak. “You look freezing.”

“I am,” you said as he welcomed you in. “Big mistake not wearing a coat.”

You scanned over his room quickly as he shut the door behind the two of you. He had white Christmas lights strung along his window, making for a beautiful reflection mixed with the snow. His overhead light was off, but the lamp beside his futon was on. It was surprisingly clean, but you attributed that to him never knowing when someone was going to need to talk to him.

Two mugs were situated on his desk in the corner of the room. He crossed the room and grabbed one and handed it to you.

“It’s mint tea,” he said. “Helps with studying.”

“Ah, of course,” you said, taking the mug and sitting on his, surprisingly comfortable, futon.

“And a blanket,” he said as he pulled it from the back of the couch. “Since you look like you might have hypothermia.”

“Thank you,” you said softly as you wrapped it tightly around your shoulders.

You pulled out your book and binder, flipping to the study guide that was handed out in class.

“Ok, where do you want to start?” You asked as Shawn pulled his slightly crumpled study guide from where it was tucked in his book.

“Well, I know nothing,” he said as he scanned over the paper. “Actually, I know one.”

“Which one?”

“The one he told us the answer for today.”

“That does not count.”

The two of you determined an order to study from as you kept his open textbook balancing on both of your knees, occasionally having to lean closer to the other to take a look at a passage.

Shawn skimmed the page, pointing at a passage and trying to explain it to you as you looked at him. You couldn’t hear a word he said as you watched how into the topic he got, using his hands to try to express his point. You sent the butterflies to the bottom of your stomach by taking a giant sip of the tea and moving onto the next question.

He asked you the next one, taking the textbook from you as you leaned an arm on the back of the futon. You glanced between him and the mini Christmas tree in the corner as you tried to explain it as best you can without the book as a crutch.

You looked back at him, his head cocked to the side and an interested look on his face. A few curls fell onto his forehead as he studied you. You tried to keep talking as his gaze was unwavering.

“Sounds right to me,” he said, his face dangerously close to yours as he also leaned his arm on the back.

“I honestly wouldn’t know,” you whispered. “Were you even looking at the book to make sure I was right?” You teased.

“I had something else I had to look at,” he said at the same volume.

You felt him lean in as you did the same. You could feel his breath fan over your lips as your hand rested on his knee.

Three solid knocks sent you flying away from each other.

Shawn cursed under his break as he stood up and swung the door open quickly.

“What?” He said to the kid in front of him, who was significantly shorter than Shawn.

“Kevin knocked over the-“ he paused as he saw you watching from across the room. “Oh, sorry, Shawn, I didn’t realize you had a girl over.”

You choked on your sip of tea as Shawn shoved the kid out the door and slammed the door behind him.

You pulled yourself together as you could hear Shawn’s muffled voice through the paper-thin walls.

“Why the fuck would you say that with her right there?” He said.

“I didn’t know! I would’ve gotten the RA on duty if I knew you were on a date,” the kid yelled back.

You could hear Shawn huff and could imagine him tugging at his hair.

“It’s nothing, Cade. It’s literally nothing at all,” Shawn said quickly. Your stomach dropped.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” the kid - Cade - teased back.

“Just tell me what’s going on, so I can study, which is the only thing we were doing,” he trailed off as you could hear the two of them walking down the hall.

You tried not to let yourself get too disappointed as you half packed up some of your stuff, not wanting to overstay your welcome if he didn’t see anything here. You felt yourself begin to overthink, wondering what would’ve happened if he kissed you. If he just wanted something quick before break, a finale to your semester together in class.

You waited patiently, your chin resting on your knees as you tried to look at the study guide with no luck.

The door swung open once again as Shawn came back. He shut the door behind him, running his hands through his hair as he looked over at you, noticing nothing but your study guide sitting out. He felt his stomach drop but didn’t say anything.

“Ok, where were we?” He said as he sat down again, dangerously close as his thigh grazed across yours.

Your breath hitched as he looked over at the study guide in your lap, looking at your one newly highlighted point.

You looked up at him as he asked you a question on the point. It was obvious he was looking at your lips.

You tried to answer the question and steady your shaky voice, but he leaned closer. Before his lips had the chance to press against yours, you rested your hand against his chest.

“Shawn…” you trailed off. “I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he quickly said. “I didn’t - I thought - I’m sorry, I thought there was…” he trailed off as he tried to motion between the two of you as he leaned back.

“I just,” you paused as you let out a breath. “I really don’t want to be a one-night thing before you go back home.”

“Why would you think that?” He asked, an upset look clearly on his face.

“It’s nothing. It’s literally nothing at all,” you quoted him as you played with the edge of the study guide.

He looked at you confused as you looked down at the page, trying to distract yourself.

“Why would you say that? I don’t think this is just nothing,” he said.

“Shawn, these walls are paper-thin,” you snapped as you looked up at him. “I heard you telling the kid that this was nothing, and I don’t want nothing. So I’m stopping it here.”

He rubbed his forehead softly as you tucked your study guide into your binder, opening your backpack to put it away.

“I’m not going to tell one of my residents that he just interrupted something,” Shawn said quickly. “They’re my residents. I’m not about to tell them about my love life. I didn’t know you’d hear that. I swear I don’t think this is just nothing. I just don’t want them to know that stuff about me. There’s no reason to. I’m so sorry if it came off as any other way.”

You watched him continue to get flustered as he stayed relatively close to you, his hand almost hitting your shoulder as he spoke.

“I’ve been crazy about you since the beginning of the semester. I don’t just want to kiss you and forget,” he explained, leaning close to you again.

“Really?” You asked softly.

He smiled back at you, his hand almost resting against your shoulder as he draped it against the back of the futon.

“Really,” he replied.

This time when he leaned in, you let him kiss you. His hand enveloped the side of your face as you rested your hands gently on his chest. He tugged on your hip, and you followed his lead as you climbed onto his lap, smiling into the kiss as his hands stayed planted on your hips, gripping into your sides.

You pulled back before pecking his lips once more, leaning your forehead against his so you could see his big smile.

You glanced outside to see the snow getting worse as you let out a sigh.

“I should get going,” you whispered.

“But it’s a blizzard out there,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And you don’t have a coat.” Another kiss at the corner of your lips. “Just stay,” he whispered as his lips met yours again.

“I don’t want to get us in trouble,” you whisper back.

“I know the RA. Don’t worry about it. I can pull some strings if he finds out,” he said with a cocky smile as you rolled your eyes, leaning in again.

“Won’t the residents know?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Let ‘em talk,” he said as his hand rubbed up your side, sending shivers across your body. “I won’t see them for over a month anyway.”

“Well, as long as the RA doesn’t find out, I think maybe I can stay,” you whispered as Shawn flipped you over so your back pressed against the futon and he hovered above you.  

“I’ll make sure he never finds out.”

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[maulusque]

WHAT IF MAUL KIDNAPPED ANAKIN RIGHT OFF OF TATOOINE

(I started writing this and then it got out of hand and now it’s 3:30 in the morning, rest of it’s under the break so i don’t monopolize your dash)

So for whatever combination of reasons, Maul spits out the kool-aid and gets really disenchanted with Sidious a lot earlier than in canon. He starts wondering things like “why is he not telling me his master plan if i’m so important to it?” and “why do i get nothing more than vague promises of power sometime in the future, when i should be guaranteed a position as his second-in-command, after all I’ve done for this guy?” and “why does he treat me like i’m disposable, and then constantly tell me i’m crucial for his plans?”

and he starts thinking things like “hey wait a minute, none of that childhood torture made me better at anything sith-related, it just gave me crippling trauma that actually impairs my capacity for self-control and incredible violence” and (possibly due to his experiences at Orsis Academy) “oh whack looks like kids learn a lot better and faster when they’re, like, having fun? Whatever ‘fun’ is?”

and anyway by the time he gets to tatooine with orders to “find that stoner jedi and kick his ass”, Maul is pretty annoyed at his master. And when he senses not one, not two, but THREE powerful force-presences on Tatooine, one of which vastly eclipses any other force presence he’s ever felt, and belongs to a nine-year-old slave boy, Maul gets an idea. You know, (he thinks), his master sure would love to get his hands on a force-baby like that. Master Sidious sure would be evilly thrilled to have an extremely powerful nine-year-old delivered directly to his doorstep on coruscant, with the jedi having to do all the heavy lifting of training the kid. Master Sidious would probably want nothing more than to have this kid be taken in by the Jedi, so he can start grooming a new apprentice. 

And Maul, full of spite and an as-yet-undiscovered need to adopt every force-sensitive in sight, decides to deprive Sidious of a potential apprentice. He follows Anakin to Naboo (in this universe, Anakin still wins the podrace, still wins his own freedom), and, after the fighting is over, sees a prime window of opportunity, and kidnaps Anakin right out from under the Jedi’s nose. 

(In this universe, Obi-Wan does not cut Darth Maul in half and dump him down the garbage chute- Maul, unwilling to do his master’s bidding any longer, doesn’t go full out against Qui-Gon, doesn’t kill him, and Obi-Wan doesn’t get that grief-and-rage filled boost that helped him dismember Maul last time. The fight ends, the Jedi are convinced that Maul is dead, and Naboo is freed).

Once Maul has the kid, since he’s a pragmatic guy, he also returns to Tatooine and takes the kid’s mom. Maul doesn’t know how to cook, do laundry, tie shoes, or any of that shit. He doesn’t want to have to PARENT the kid, he just wants to train him. 

Maul has zero money, and also zero subtlety, so he stomps into Watto’s shop, grabs him by the neck, and says “The boy's mother is coming with me. You will disable her slave chip and let her leave unharmed, or I will squeeze your head off.” Watto complies. For Anakin, this is his first real impression of Maul- storming the junk shop and threatening his former master for the freedom of Anakin’s mother.

Maul is determined to do a better job training Anakin than Sidious did training Maul. Because FUCK Sidious. Maul can be a WAY better Sith than Sidious ever allowed him to be. And since Maul is slowly realizing how... unhelpful... the way he was raised was, he’s determined to figure out how to do it better.

So he reads. He reads training manuals, child psychology books, teaching books, studies on motivation and performance, anything he can get his nerdy little hands on. He learns that frightened children don’t perform well. He learns about “trauma”, and how “trauma” makes it hard to control your emotions sometimes. Well, you can’t have THAT in your ultimate sith apprentice. Okay, so no scaring Anakin and no traumatizing him. Maul quickly realizes that literally everything he does frightens Anakin or his mom, and frightening Anakin’s mom also frightens Anakin (cut him some slack, he’s literally never been in a positive relationship, Maul has no model for any behavior other than “evil abuser” and “subservient slave”).

Maul is not an idiot. He knows he’s not doing it right. He’s reluctant to start teaching Anakin ANYTHING until he knows he won’t accidentally damage his precious spite-apprentice. So he mostly ignores the kid while he reads and learns.

He also observes. Specifically, he observes Shmi Skywalker. Somehow, she seems to be able to interact with Anakin without scaring him. She can even tell him what to do without scaring him. She can teach and correct him without scaring him. And she never physically hurts him at all. Maul is kind of blown away- he didn’t even know it was possible to interact with people like that? HOW does she DO it???

So Maul watches and learns. He practices. Shmi helps, guides him, tells him when he messes up and tells him how to do it better. Maul gets a lot better at restraining his murderous urges. Turns out, if you immediately kill everyone who annoys you, it’s hard to ask them for advice after. The other person Maul gets pointers from is C3PO, the protocol droid the kid dragged along. Maul understands 3PO better than he understands Shmi and Anakin. 3PO is a droid. Maul was raised by a droid. Maul knows how to talk with 3PO, whereas talking with Shmi or Anakin feels like wandering around in a fog full of landmines.

So anyway, Maul and 3PO become unlikely friends, and, as Maul, determined to out-parent Sidious in every conceivable way, learns more and more social skills, emotional intelligence, and interpersonal skills, he truly comprehends how fucked up his own childhood was. There’s rage. There’s grief. There’s murderous desire for vengeance. But there’s also Anakin. Who would be scared if Maul smashed the ship or killed random people to vent his anger. Anakin, who needs something called a “positive role model”, who needs to be taught how to use the Force, and who needs the adults around him to have their shit together. There’s also Shmi, who makes him soup and hot chocolate when he’s feeling bad, and tells him off for breaking things, and who helps him get better at being a real person, and who doesn’t seem to want anything from him other than a general expectation of not hurting her or her son. So Maul deals. He grows. He heals, slowly. There’s setbacks, and gains. And somewhere in there, he starts teaching Anakin how to use the Force.

The problem is, Maul learned to access the Force first through fear and anger. Turns out, it’s really hard to teach someone fundamentals of force usage via fear and anger without first having to traumatize them. So right away, Maul hits a barrier. He doesn’t have any clue how to teach Anakin a different way though. He needs help.

But also, FUCK the jedi. NO WAY is Maul asking the Jedi for help, he hates the Jedi. Maul is still a Sith, he’s just a new, better kind of Sith, the kind that trains apprentices who are gonna kick WAY MORE ASS and be HEALTHY WELL-ADJUSTED PEOPLE while doing it (let him dream, ok?). So Maul starts hauling Shmi and Anakin around the galaxy, seeking out any non-Jedi Force-users they can, to learn Force techniques that the Sith didn’t teach Maul.

They spend time with the Guardians on Jedha, with those weird duck-people from that one episode with Jar-Jar’s girlfriend, with some wacky monks on a tiny island in the ass-end of nowhere, and even some time with a long-lost sith cult in a box system in the middle of the Unknown Regions. Maul learns. Anakin learns. Maul uses what he learns from the other force-users, combines it with what he knows, and teaches Anakin even more. The Jedi and the Sith are really the only two groups who really use the force for Big Impressive Things, like telekinesis and lightning and whatnot, so while the other force groups would have a lot to teach them both, they wouldn’t really be able to teach Anakin how to levitate something. And you can’t be the kick-assiest, bestest Sith Apprentice Ever if you can’t levitate shit. So Maul takes takes all these new techniques, like “being calm and chill when you meditate instead of super pissed off” and “using the Force while not being filled with incredible rage” and “mindfulness techniques” and “who knew you could do cool stuff like floating rocks without having to exhaust yourself by hating everything in existence, including yourself” and applies them to the skills and methods he already has. He and Anakin have to do a lot of fumbling and exploring and mistake-making, but they figure it out. And Anakin learns. And he kicks ass.

When Anakin is 11, Maul hauls him off to Ach-To to dig a crystal out of the roots of an ancient tree. He tells Anakin to hold it and meditate, to let his emotions rise around him, to feed them, to pull them through the crystal, let it resonate, let it take on the shape of his strongest feelings. After all, that is how Maul was trained to bleed his crystals. Maul’s pain and fear and anger yielded him red crystals.

Anakin comes out with yellow. Determination, fierce protectiveness, drive, hunger for justice, righteous fury. That is Anakin’s lightsaber.

Anakin grows up, planet-hopping with his Mom and Uncle Maul in a beat-up freighter with under-the-hood enhancements out the ass (Maul ditched the Scimitar right after Tatooine so his master couldn’t instantly track him down, and Maul and Anakin are both huge mechanics nerds and bond over things like “but what if you put ANOTHER PLASMA CORE IN THE ENGINE”, so this ship is, uh, certainly some sort of thing). Anakin grows up learning a hundred different Force traditions- just about every major Force tradition in the Galaxy (except for Jedi), and more than a few obscure ones. He grows up, tinkering with his droid, learning Juyo from Maul and how to sew a button from his mom. He grows up, beholden to two destinies only: “Help me take down Sidious, because he’s an asshole and a shitty Sith Lord” and “do whatever the fuck you want, because you are a Sith and no one gets to tell you what to do” (”except me.” Shmi interrupts. “Sith Lords still have a bedtime.” “Sith Lords still have a bedtime,” Maul amends, having no desire to repeat what happened when he encouraged a ten-year-old Anakin to ignore all the rules on purpose).

And what Anakin wants to do is what he’s always wanted to do- go back to Tatooine and free the slaves. Maul thinks that a big project like that would be an excellent learning opportunity for Anakin. He also wants Anakin to succeed, so he sits him down and talks logistics. How do you free the slaves without hundreds of slave owners detonating their chips when they hear what is happening? How do you keep them free once you do that? How do you get them jobs, clothes, food, houses? What about the ones who want to leave Tatooine? What about the ones who want to stay? And what about the economic upheaval that will happen when you deprive a whole planet of its cheapest source of labor? When Anakin is fourteen, they start planning.

When Anakin is eighteen, they make their move. Anakin, coordinating with Shmi, who returned to Tatooine three years earlier to organize things on the ground (living with a woman named Beru Whitesun, who is a gateway to the Freedom Path network), activates several massive orbital EMP devices, frying every electrical device on the planet, including slave chips. (The EMPs came from a pirate friend of his mom’s, who seems to do whatever she wants as long as she makes him hot chocolate). All over the planet, lights go out, slave chips fry, and radios go silent. And Shmi’s agents get to work. Ordinary citizens all over tatooine grab their rifles and head out. They meet up with others in their settlement, and the teams sweep the area, following a plan devised by Skywalker and Whitesun. They systematically visit every house in every settlement, city, spaceport, and town that is known to house slaves, and tell the slaves to grab their families and most treasured possessions and follow them.

(Tatooine is a sparsely populated planet- you can count the major settlements on two hands. If it weren’t, this would never have worked.)

Not many slaveowners put up much of a resistance- fifty angry masked people pointing guns in your face tend to make you compliant. The only slaveowner who puts up more than a token resistance is Jabba the Hutt. His resistance, however, lasts about thirty seconds, before Anakin cuts off his head.

Maul meets Anakin at Jabba’s palace, where he’s rounding up the last of Jabba’s cronies. 

“No trouble?” Maul asks.

“Nope,” Anakin replies. “You?”

“None.” Maul said. Turns out, it’s like, super easy to take down an entire criminal organization when you can turn up to a meeting of the Hutt family heads, kill them all, and waltz out past all their security forces without breaking a sweat. (Seriously, it’s kind of hilarious how Maul is literally just that good). 

“The slaves here are freed?”

“Yep,” says Anakin. Then frowns. “Hold on...” He senses a presence. Big, hulking, simple, and starving. He can sense that, whatever it is, it hasn’t seen the sunlight or been able to move freely in years. 

So anyway, that’s how Anakin turns up at Mos Espa at first sunrise, riding on the back of Jabba the Hutt’s pet rancor. “Who’s a good girl,” Anakin says, scratching behind her ear nubs. “You are!” And she is a good girl. Padme (”I just think it sounds like a nice name, you know?”) is very good at dispersing angry slaveowners who look like they might start rioting. 

The slaves freed overnight have been gathered together at pre-designated safe zones-mostly warehouses or large buildings that Shmi has been buying up over the years for exactly this purpose.

(The slaves living in remote settlements, at moisture farms and homesteads, didn’t get a visit from the freedom teams. However, Shmi had a plan for them too. She has made overtures to the Tusken tribes. Once she managed to negotiate her way into speaking to one of the leaders without getting killed, she sold them a story, a dream. A revolution. Free the slaves. Transform Tatooine. She doesn’t promise the Tuskens to expel humans from the planet entirely. She promises them equal rights under the law (she also promises the existence of laws in the first place). She promises them the right to raise Banthas, the right to traverse their ancestral lands and the return of sacred sites taken from them, the right to trade, the right to control who passes over their lands. She promises them the right to water and shade. And, she promises them half the seats on the ruling council she plans to set up. And so, on the night the EMPs blow, Tusken raiders visit every homestead on Tatooine (again, there’s only a few hundred, a thousand at most), and kidnap the slaves. Perhaps not the most reassuring experience for enslaved peoples who have been taught their entire lives to fear the Tuskens, and not without reason, but, nevertheless, it is freedom).

As the new day dawns- Tatooine’s first dawn as a free planet- Anakin, Maul, and Shmi know that the easy part is over. Now, they have to house tens of thousands of people currently cooped up in warehouses with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They have to establish and keep iron-tight control over the planet and its settlements, and quash any violent reprisals before they gain momentum. They also have to completely rebuild an economy completely upended by the overnight emancipation. 

However, Shmi’s not the only one who’s been busy for the past few years. While Shmi was on Tatooine, planning a revolution, Anakin and Maul were traversing the galaxy, gathering resources, using the Patented Maul Method (TM)- breaking into the headquarters of powerful organizations and threatening to kill everybody in charge unless they did what they said.

As the second sun rises, ships begin arriving in Tatooine’s orbit. Pop-up housing is dropped onto the outskirts of Tattooine’s settlements, the kind that mining companies use to set up new bases on mineral-rich asteroids. The accommodations are small and sparse, but each family has a kitchen, bathroom, beds, and private space. Huge generators are hooked up to cool the new housing. Anakin knows that the already-existing slave quarters, made of stone with no windows and mostly underground- are already built to keep the occupants cool, but he refuses to make the former slave population live in slave quarters. Some of the freed people are moved into Jabba’s old palace, some into buildings abandoned by rich business owners who fled the planet when they saw what was happening. Food, water, medicine, clothes, books, toys, tools, and shoes are deposited. (the Republic’s equivalent of the FBI had been utterly baffled when Galaxy’s three biggest criminal organizations started moving cargo that looked less like a drug trade and more like a disaster relief mission). 

Anakin walks among the newly freed slaves, reassuring them- yes, you are free. Yes, you will be fed and housed and clothed as long as you need it. Yes, we will try to find your child/husband/wife/mother who was sold years ago. Yes, you can go home, you can do whatever you want.

He also asks for volunteers. And he gets them. Hardly anyone would say no to the chance to work with the Skywalker, who once was a slave like them, but freed himself and returned, who freed the slaves in one night of glory, and appeared at sunrise riding a rancor.

Anakin sends out messengers, all across the planet. “Tatooine is a free world,” they say. “All slaves are hereby freed, by order of the He who Walks in the Sky. Any slaveowners who, by their own free will, turn over their detonators will not be harmed. Any who resist, will be.” Not many resist.

At the end of that first day, as the suns are setting, once the freed peoples of Tatooine are fed, and given water, and sheltered, Maul comes to Anakin.

“I am proud of you.” He says. “You have come into your power, you have mastered yourself, and so have mastered the Force. You have the freedom and the power to do anything you choose. You are no longer my apprentice. Lord Skywalker, you are a true Sith Master.” Anakin pulls him into a hug. He maybe cries a little bit. Maul maybe cries a little bit. Maul maybe also feels mildly annoyed that Anakin is a full head taller than him now.

(Sidious would be truly, utterly offended at Maul’s criteria for Sith-Lord-ness. “THAT’S NOT SITH” he would have said. “THAT’S BARELY EVEN DARK SIDE ADJACENT, YOU ARE DILUTING OUR THOUSAND YEAR HERITAGE-” but Maul wouldn’t care about Sidious’ stupid opinions, anyway).

And Anakin and Shmi get to work. They employ the newly freed people of Tatooine, constructing permanent houses, tearing down slave markets, building critical infrastructure. Anakin pays them more than a living wage, thanks to the extremely deep pockets of Crimson Dawn. He brings in doctors and teachers, and guarantees healthcare and education for all who want it (whenever one of Crimson Dawn’s higher-ups says “wait, why are we dumping massive amounts of money into this one random-ass planet?” Darth Maul just casually sidles up behind them with his lightsaber until they remember that he can literally just show up anywhere, at anytime, and kill them unless they do what he says. If Maul’s busy, he sends 3PO instead- 3PO’s been outfitted with about ten times as much weaponry as is legal, and can be very convincing when he wants to be).

While Anakin works on infrastructure and supporting the freed peoples of Tatooine, and unfucking the economic trainwreck they caused, Shmi and Beru work on the government. They write down a few, very basic rules-Tatooine is to be ruled by a council of people, half of whom will come from the Tusken tribes, all of which shall be selected by fair and free election. All citizens of Tatooine shall have the right to vote in these elections, and the right to vote shall be guaranteed to all- except for those who have ever owned or sold a sentient being. (it was a huge debate in the Lars-Whitesun-Skywalker household, this matter of restricting voting rights. In the end, it was decided that slaveowners, and ONLY slaveowners, were to be the sole exception for universal suffrage). Every citizen of Tatooine is guaranteed access to food, medicine, and water, and has the right to have their grievances addressed by the council.

Shmi works quickly to gather her council- she knows she has to do it fast, to prove to the Tuskens that she is as good as her word. The first elections are chaotic, and perhaps not completely non-violent, but in the end, there is a council of twenty representatives, with Shmi Skywalker representing Mos Espa.

The Council proceeds to have raging- and occasionally violent- debates about the structure of their future government. What rights to guarantee citizens. Should they have a court system? What about a financial system? How are they to guarantee water, food, and medicine to everyone? What even are taxes?

The Rebuilding of Tatooine is long, and hard, and contentious. There are arguments and rage and fighting- the repatriation of traditional Tusken lands is especially fraught. But Shmi promised, and so she makes it happen (Anakin and Padme may have helped too). Maul, for his part, keeps training Anakin, and keeps managing the criminal underworld with a careful balance of death threats and actual death, but mostly stays out of the way of Anakin’s Senior Project. 

Soon, Anakin is able to re-purpose the pop-up housing, since most people have moved into traditional Tatooine-built homes, suited to the environment. The newly restructured economy is tentatively taking its first steps, and Tatooine’s baby government is becoming less and less dependent on intergalactic criminal funding (partially thanks to Anakin confiscating the entirety of Jabba’s personal fortune). He spends a lot of time in Council meetings, trying not to scream at people while also trying to stop Padme from eating them. The Council debates what is next for Tatooine, and eventually, they vote to petition the Republic for membership. Tatooinians, as a people, including the Tuskens, are fiercely independant, but, as Shmi points out, joining the Republic would guarantee them to certain things like humanitarian aid, a voice in decisions affecting interplanetary trade routes and taxation, legal legitimacy and the right to call on the Republic for aid should their sovereignty ever be threatened. Most importantly, slavery is illegal on all Republic planets, which means that if any slave-owning organizations ever pushed in on Tatooine, there would be another (much better funded) organization to call on to help quash it. 

The Republic requires that a petitioning planet’s head of state visit the Senate on Coruscant to ask the Senate for entry into the Republic. The Council, grumbling, re-jiggers their constitution to allow for a “chief councilor”, and promptly elect Anakin to the position (”Fuck me,”) Anakin says. Maul laughs at him, then sobers and tells him to be careful on Coruscant (”My former master lives there.” he says. “Mind your shields, and do not let him know your true nature. You are not yet ready to take him on, and you have your planet and your people to think of.” “Yes, Uncle Maul.” Anakin says. “I will be careful.”).

Anakin shows up in the Galactic Senate, sandy robes, uncombed hair, and half smirk on his face. “I am Anakin Skywalker, free person of Tatooine,” he says. He presents the case for Tatooine’s admittance to the Republic in a booming, confident voice, drawing on his inner strength- his righteous anger and determination to ensure his people’s future- to keep his voice from wavering.

There are grumbles. Muttering. No Senator wants to be the one to blatantly say “no”- it’s a sort of miracle story, Tatooine, the little planet that rose up and threw of the shackles of slavery and now wants to join the Republic- the exact sort of mythos that the Republic itself is built on. It’s bad PR to vote against that little planet. But at the same time, Tatooine is a sandy, useless dustball that’ll need fiscal support from the Senate, with nothing to offer in terms of economic value. Many Senators are debating with themselves, not whether or not to say “no”, but how to vote “no” without losing ten points in approval ratings.

Until the Senator from Naboo, a diminutive woman who somehow reminds Anakin of his rancor, stands up. She gives an impassioned, off-the-cuff speech, reminding the Senate of how her own planet had thrown off the shackles of oppression not ten years ago, how the Republic was founded by planets like Tatooine, and how, most importantly, they had no legal basis to deny them entry, and if the Senate voted no, Naboo’s lawyers would litigate the issue six ways from taungsday- which, due to a clause in the Senate’s constitution that forbade them from passing legislation while the issue of a planet’s admittance to the Republic was on the floor, would effectively paralyze the Senate until the courts made a ruling. And, as Padme made sure to emphasize, if the court’s decision was not favorable, she would appeal. She could feasibly stop the Senate from doing anything for years, if necessary.

Tatooine is admitted to the Republic.

“Two Senators,” Anakin demands. “In order for my people to be fairly represented, my planet requires two Senators.” When complaints are made, Jar-Jar Binks threatens to explain the complicated dynamics of a planet attempting to grapple with a colonial past. He doesn’t have to. Tatooine gets its two Senators.

Anakin meets with Senator Amidala in her office, to thank her.

“Of course,” she said. “I remember a little boy who helped free my planet- how could I not help you when you needed it?”

“Uhh, thanks, yeah, that’s, really nice of you. Like your hair. Which is nice. In an objective sort of way,” Anakin says, because there is no universe in which Anakin is not a complete idiot in front of Padme. “I named my rancor after you,” he blurts.

Before Anakin is scheduled to leave Coruscant, the Jedi send a knight to scope out the new planetary leader. Obi-Wan Kenobi shows up at Anakin’s hotel room, and goes “Oh. It’s.... you.” 

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin grins. He only knew him for about two days when he was nine, but he still greets him like an old friend, like a brother. They fall into easy, teasing conversation. “I thought you were dead, I confess, after you disappeared from Naboo,” Obi-Wan admits. “I am truly sorry that I was unable to fulfill Qui-Gon’s promise to train you as a Jedi Knight.”

“That’s ok,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively. “I got trained as a Sith instead.” Then he freezes. Oops. He was not supposed to say that. Maul would be so disappointed in him.

“Beg pardon?” Obi-Wan says.

“I, uhh, got trained, as a, uh, sift...er? Instead? A sand sifter? I sift sand for a living?”

“You said Sith.”

“No I didn’t, I definitely said sift.”

“No, you said Sith.”

“I definitely did not.”

Anakin changes the subject, and Obi-Wan lets it drop. He’ll tell the Council, of course, but he honestly cannot fathom the concept of this kid being a Sith. He senses nothing Dark about him- well, at least no more dark than is present in any sentient. Besides, it’s not like there are any Sith Lords around anymore, ever since he killed Maul (luckily, Obi-Wan doesn’t see the picture in Anakin’s wallet, a candid shot 3PO took in the cockpit of their family’s ship. Fifteen-year-old Anakin, at the controls, hyperbrake still on with his hands on the hyperdrive lever, Maul, standing behind him, hands gripping Anakin’s seat and face distorted half-way through a panic-induced rant about flight safety, and Shmi, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, laughter on her face and knitting needles in her hands).

Anakin contacts his mother, tells her the good news. The Council, moving with alacrity, elects Tatooine’s first Senators. And four days later, one year after the Dawn of Freedom, Senator Shmi Skywalker and Senator Ooutrigh (a Tusken warrior) of Tatooine arrive on Coruscant and address the Senate for the first time. 

Of course, while Anakin has been growing up, planning for Tatooine’s future, and annoying the shit out of Maul, Palpatine’s own plans have continued apace. Barely four months after Tatooine is admitted to the Republic, Obi-Wan finds himself in an arena on Geonosis. The battle goes much differently this time, partially due to the fact that Anakin has retrofitted the cargo bay of his family’s ship to house Padme (the rancor, not the Senator), and descends onto the Arena sands just as Yoda and the Clone Troops arrive, and deposits both Padme’s (the rancor, and the Senator) into the melee. 

“Hi, Obi-Wan!” Anakin calls, whipping out his lightsaber to deflect the hail of blaster bolts (Maul would disapprove, but Maul isn’t here, he’s ten clicks away, chasing down the Jedi dropout Sidious replaced him with). 

“Anakin, what the FUCK” Obi-Wan says, staring at Chief Councilor Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine, riding a rancor and swinging an honest-to-Force yellow lightsaber. 

“Master Yoda, what the FUCK” Anakin says, later, after the battle is over, when he finally gets Yoda to answer his questions about the clone troopers. “You found out about an entire-ass army of slave child soldiers commissioned AND PAID FOR by one of your own council members, and your reaction is ‘oh thank goodness, now we have an army?’ What the FUCK is WRONG with you?!” Yoda tries to explain to Councilor Skywalker that the situation was dire, they’d had no choice, but Councilor Skywalker just keeps repeating “AN ARMY OF SLAVE CHILD SOLDIERS” at him. “No choice, we had,” Yoda says yet again.

“BULLSHIT, you had no choice!” Anakin yells. “You could have chosen to not use the entire army of slave child soldiers that you legally own!”

“Let Kenobi and the others die, you would have? Hmm?”

“PROBABLY, YEAH!” Anakin hollers (”Thanks,” mutters Obi-Wan). “Sometimes the choices you have all really suck, but you still have to make them! You can’t just pretend you didn’t have any options, you HAD OPTIONS, and you chose the one that involved using a SLAVE ARMY OF CHILD SOLDIERS.” He gestures behind him to the battlefield, where clone troopers and medics are moving amongst the bodies, white and red stark against the sand, tallying their dead brothers.

Yoda shakes his head. “emotional, you are, young Skywalker.” he said. “Cloud your judgement, your feelings do.” 

“Yeah, I’m fucking emotional!” Anakin practically screams. “I have personal beef with slavery, so excuse me if I feel emotions about it. Your problem is that you’re able to use an ARMY OF SLAVE CHILD SOLDIERS and not feel bad about it! Your lack of emotions is clouding YOUR judgement!” He stomps off. Yoda shakes his head. Skywalker is young, and too close to the issue of slavery to really have perspective on it. He does not understand. It was a great loss to the Jedi Order when the Council rejected him, all those years ago- if he had been trained as a Jedi, he would have learned to put aside his emotions about slavery, and he would have understood why it was necessary now. If Anakin could have heard what Yoda was thinking, he would have turned right back around, picked Yoda up, and punted him like a limmie ball.

Anakin and Maul return to Tatooine. Maul offers to assassinate the entire Jedi Council, but Anakin says no. He’s still fuming about his conversation with Yoda. He knows he gets emotional. He knows that Yoda isn’t entirely wrong- he knows he lets his emotions cloud his judgement sometimes. It’s something he’s worked hard on, over the years, him and Maul. How to take a step back from the emotions howling in your head, and how to view the situation without them getting in the way. And what kinds of situations you should let your emotions guide you. Anakin thinks he’s damn well entitled to strong emotions about slavery. 

Short of declaring war on the entire Jedi Order, Anakin doesn’t know what to do about the Republic’s slave army. The Tatooine Council releases a public condemnation of it, explicitly calling it slavery and calling for the clones to be freed. The Council seriously debates joining the Separatists, until Padme (the Senator, not the Rancor) and Shmi look in-depth at the Separatist Council, which is buried deep in the pockets of corporate interests. Shmi files a lawsuit, under the Republic’s anti-slavery legislation, suing for the freedom of the clones. It’s a battle of miserable inches, and meanwhile, the war rages.

With Dooku gone, Sidious’s only means of controlling the Separatists is through Grievous and Ventress, both of whom are loose cannons whose loyalty (and competence) he seriously doubts. It’s frustrating for him, and not necessarily better for the Jedi and their army (of slave child soldiers). Sidious needs to keep the war in careful balance, neither side gaining too much ground, to draw it out and grind the Jedi down and manipulate their public image until he can heap all the blame on them. Without Dooku to pass down his orders, he has no way of keeping a firm check on the Separatist Council, and the Seps are in serious danger of completely overrunning the Republic. The droid army is fifty times as many as the clones, and the Separatists have the Trade Federation, the Banking Clans, and all of the major military tech corporations on their side. Honestly, it’s a testament to the Jedi and the Clone Army that they haven’t lost the war in the first month.

Speaking of that first month, Anakin doesn’t spend long on uninvolved in the war. Scant weeks after Geonosis, the Separatist Army threatens to roll right over Tatooine on their way to gaining control of the Outer Rim Hyperlanes. Tatooine has no army, doesn’t even have a police force. It has no fleet, no orbital defenses, and the droid army headed their way has ten times more droids than there are guns on the planet. The Council faces a choice. Ask the Republic to send in the GAR to defend them- ask for an army of slaves to be sent to die on Tatooine, to stain the sand with enslaved blood so soon after Tatooine clawed her way to freedom, or do nothing, and almost certainly ensure the annihilation of Tatooine and her people. To die, or to live by the blood of slaves who died for you. It’s not a pretty choice.

In the end, the choice is taken away from them (and perhaps it’s a kindness, that they weren’t forced to choose, perhaps it’s the coward’s way out, but it is what it is). A GAR cruiser shows up in orbit, and the Council is hailed by a man identifying himself as Captain Rex, commanding officer of the 501st legion of the GAR.

“The Republic sent you here?” Anakin asks, incredulously. 

“Well, not exactly.” Captain Rex hedges. “The 501st is due for leave on Kamino, but the hyperdrive was making funny noises, so we decided to stop off in the nearest Republic system to check it out.” Rex shrugs. “If a bunch of tinnies just so happen to show up, it’s not like we’ll just sit back and watch.”

“Why are you doing this?” Anakin asks the clone captain, once they’ve got him on planet and in the council room. He’s got a lump in his throat, and his eyes are stinging. The 501st has no Jedi on board, no natborn officers, and no orders to go to Tatooine. Rex and the 501st showed up here of their own free will. Because they wanted to. To defend Tatooine.

“Geonosis.” Rex says. “On Geonosis, you saved the lives of over two hundred of us. Including me. We couldn’t stand by and let your planet fall to the Separatists, Councilor Skywalker.”

After the battle, during the cleanup, when Tatooinians are passing through the rows of injured, giving out water- giving out life- Rex tells Anakin the other reason.

“We all know about Tatooine, sir.” He says, quietly. “A bunch of slaves who stood up and said “no,” and took their freedom.” He shrugs. “Stories like that, it gives us hope. For the future.” He fixes Anakin with a stare. “If we let that hope die, we die too. Tatooine cannot fall.”

That is the first time Anakin and Rex fight together. Somehow, when the 501st leaves Tatooine, Anakin goes with them- officially, as a consultant/observer, appointed at the request of Senator Skywalker to observe the GAR and monitor the health and wellbeing of the troopers. Unofficially, Anakin and Rex become a lethal team, making the 501st one of the most effective legions in the Galaxy. Anakin isn’t dumb. He knows he’s being a massive hypocrite, running around with an army of slave child soldiers. Rex, however, insists that it’s different.

“First of all, we asked you to come with us.” he says. “Second of all, it’s not like you staying behind would have made any difference in our situation. And besides, scrapping clankers isn’t the only reason I asked you to come with us.” Anakin raises an eyebrow.

And Rex introduces Anakin to his older brother, Cody, commander of the 212th (Anakin is happy to see Obi-Wan again, but appalled to meet Obi-Wan’s fourteen-year-old togruta padawan, because why would you put a CHILD in a warzone, in a COMMAND POSITION). And Cody brings Anakin in on The Plan. The clones will not remain slaves forever, and they will not wait for some elusive promise of gratitude after the war is over. They will take their freedom, and they will defend their own, and they’re asking Anakin, who freed the slaves of Tatooine, to help them do it. 

“So basically, you want me on as a consultant.”

“Basically, yeah.” Cody says. “And also as a guy with a lightsaber who can leap fifty feet into the air and dodge blaster bolts. Those are always handy to have around.”

So Anakin and Rex and Cody, and Cody’s small circle of commanders, lay their plans. And in the meantime, there’s a war to fight. Shmi’s still on Tatooine, but Maul comes with Anakin and the 501st. He and Rex get along like a house on fire, but you wouldn’t know it from watching them- they do nothing but argue and needle each other. Rex sarcastically calls Maul “Commander Maul” because it pisses him off so much, and it catches on with the whole legion. Maul constantly mutters about murdering and/or poisoning Rex.

But after Ventress almost chokes Rex to death, and breaks into his mind to make him do her bidding, Maul doesn’t leave Rex alone for a week, and clutches his hand tightly in the medbay. Rex doesn’t mention it, so neither does Anakin. 

Padme, on the other hand, makes no secret of how much she loves Rex (the Rancor, not the Senator, though she likes him too). Padme seems to have concluded that Rex is some sort of long-lost hatchling, and can be seen chasing Rex down the hangar bay, trying to corral him into the nest she’s constructed in the corner reserved for her. Rex gets used to surprise cuddles from a massive predator.

The Jedi Council are at their wit’s end with Skywalker, but their hands are full and honestly, he’s a benefit to the war effort, so they assign Obi-Wan to “supervise” the legion, and leave them to it. Obi-Wan and Anakin strike up a deep friendship, unfettered by the baggage that comes with being master and padawan. Obi-Wan finds himself having serious questions about the Jedi’s role in the war, since Anakin is not at all shy about challenging him on the whole “slave army of child soldiers” thing. Obi-Wan is also, quite frankly, too busy to effectively teach a padawan, and by this point, he knows that Anakin’s had some sort of Force training. He’s fought beside him enough to be confident in his skills, and often sends Ahsoka on extended missions with the 501st, and explicitly begs Anakin to help him fill in the gaps in her training. Anakin obliges enthusiastically. 

Of course, Maul helps train her too. Obi-Wan shows up on the Resolute one day to pick her up, and asks how her training’s going. 

“Great!” She says. “Skyguy’s weird uncle is teaching me jar’kai-”

“Anakin has an uncle?” Obi-Wan asks, surprised. “Who knows jar’kai?”

And so Obi-Wan and Maul meet once again. And Obi-Wan is just absolutely pole-axed. 

“Darth Maul?” He splutters. “Is your uncle?” 

“Not biologically,” Anakin shrugs. “He practically raised me, along with my mom. He taught me everything I know about lightsabers and the Force.”

“...”

“...you did say Sith, Anakin, you bastard, sand-sifting MY ASS-”

“Oh, it’s you.” Maul says. “I won’t kill you, but only because Anakin likes you.” Obi-Wan throws up his hands.

Somehow, Obi-Wan and Maul come to an understanding. Somehow, Obi-Wan doesn’t turn him over to the council. 

At one point, a giant of a zabrak, easily eight feet tall, with skin a poisonous yellow, shows up, claiming that Maul is his brother, and that he’s here to bring him home to Dathomir. Maul takes one look at Savage and goes “Fuck that”. “I will train you in the ways of the Force,” he says. “I can show you power like you’ve never wielded before.” he says. “You shall be a great and feared Sith Lord,” he says. “Have some hot chocolate, you look cold,” he says. “Put on a sweater.” Savage, slightly bemused, comes to terms with the fact that he’s just been adopted.

It’s Maul who figures it out, of course. How could he not? He was raised by Sidious. He knows how devious he is, how his plans have layers upon layers, backups upon backups, contingencies stacked from here to the Outer Rim. Once Sidious moves, you can be sure that any reasonable outcome will be in his favor, because he has completely engineered the situation before you were even aware it existed.

The Sith caused the war and are playing both sides. The Sith caused the clones to be commissioned (these things are trivially easy to figure out, if you’re paying attention). The Sith want the Jedi dead.

“Contingencies,” Maul mutters. “It’s always a trap, and there’s always contingencies.”

When he finds the chip in Rex’s head, he shakes with rage and refuses to talk to anyone, fearing, for the first time in years, that he will lose control and hurt someone he loves. It is Rex who talks him down, who manages to get close to him, who embraces him and lets him cry on his shoulder, then scream and rage and punch the walls. When Maul is able to explain, Rex has to choke back his own terrified, horrified sobs. He holds them back, and calmly looks at Maul and says “What are you going to do about it?”

The surgery, they discover, is simple enough. An astromech can do it in two minutes (C2PO can do it in seventy seconds, and Artoo can’t stand it). When Anakin is told, he goes quiet for a minute, and when he looks back up, it is not Anakin, Rex’s friend, Maul’s kid, who is sitting at the table in the briefing room. It is He Who Walks in the Sky, Huttslayer, Breaker of Chains, who looks back at them. Anakin Skywalker has always wanted nothing more than to free all the slaves. And Anakin Skywalker’s destiny has always been to do what he wanted.

They tell Cody. They modify their plans. They quietly contact medics throughout the GAR, and Artoo quietly sends the details to every military astromech he trusts. When the army is safe from Sidious’ control, Anakin, Rex, and Maul conspire to lure him off of Coruscant. Maul takes over Mandalore, exiling the duchess and announcing a New Sith Empire. Sidious shows up, declaring that Maul has become a rival, disowning his former apprentice and attacking him, with intent to kill. Savage loses an arm. Maul almost loses his life. But as he lies on the ground at Sidious’s feet, arms trembling with the effort of holding the parry keeping Sidious’ saber from his throat, he hears “We’ve got the face shot! Go, go go!” in his earpiece. Gunfire, real slugthrowers, difficult to block with a saber, erupts around him. C3PO and his arsenal, along with Fives, Jesse, and Echo, the 501st’s best ARC troopers, open fire on Sidious. The Sith is forced to back away, raising a hand to stop the bullets in midair. Maul leaps to his feet, and Anakin joins him, lightsaber drawn. 

The fight is quick, but brutal. Maul’s hands threaten to tremble with terror, facing down the horror of his childhood, the monster whose treatment of him is woven fundamentally into his psyche, whose shadow has haunted Maul all his life, and still invades his dreams. But he reaches out to his family, to Rex, beside him, steady, full of faith in him, to Anakin, a blazing sun of love and anger, a shield of raw power, and to Shmi, all the way in her Senate offices on Coruscant, cool and calm and soothing like a desert spring as ever-present as the stars. His hands do not tremble. He raises his lightsaber against his master, beside the blade of his son. Together, they beat the Sith Lord back. Anakin binds the Sith’s blade, knees him in the ribs, and while Sidious is thus occupied, Maul cuts his head off.

“You were a terrible parent,” he pants, and spits on the corpse. Then, he collapses, and Rex is there to catch him, and Maul clings to him and shakes, and cries. Anakin reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder, and Rex pulls him in with a look, and together, they surround Maul, a bulwark against the rest of the world, a safe circle for him to fall apart for a little bit. At some point, one of them unstraps the small camera that Maul had been wearing on his chest. Ahsoka has, at that point, already sent the footage to every major news office on Coruscant.

That evening, plastered all over the galactic news, is a video of the Chancellor himself, showing up on a neutral world and attacking its sovereign leader, wielding red lightsabers of all things. And it’s obviously the Chancellor; there’s a clear shot of his face when he knocks Mandalore’s ruler to the ground and the camera gets a good view right up into his hood.

It’s a massive scandal. One tabloid shows the footage with a little counter in the corner, counting up every treaty and galactic law that Palpatine violates onscreen. The only thing that saves Palpatine from impeachment and arrest is the fact that he’s already dead. Inquiries are launched, investigators are sanctioned, documents and hard drives and testimony are subpoena’ed. Padme (the Senator, not the Rancor), spearheads the investigative committee, and within a month, they’ve uncovered decades worth of bribes, backroom deals, contracts with droid manufacturers, clear evidence of Palpatine authorizing Republic funds for weaponry that went straight to the Separatists, and even communication records between the Chancellor and the two military leaders of the Separatists. Grievous and Ventress go into hiding (the Tales of Grievous and Ventress, unlikely buddies forced on an intergalactic road trip on the run from the cops, is a story for a different absurdly long post at 3am). The Separatists break down in chaos, and the war grinds to a halt. In the middle of all the political hurricane, Cody enacts his plan, and the entire GAR simultaneously deserts, and fucks directly off to Tatooine. This ignites another scandal, with Senators calling for Tatooine’s expulsion from the Republic. Shmi stands in her Senate Pod, hands tucked into her roughspun sleeves, listening attentively while Senator Burtoni of Kamino accuses her of theft.

“If Tatooine does not return the stolen military assets, the Senate may sanction the use of force!” the Senator from Ryloth threatens.

“Pardon me,” Shmi says, “May I ask what army the Senate is planning sending to invade Tatooine? I was under the impression that the only Republic army was already there.” There’s a bit of an awkward silence.

In the middle of the shitstorm, before Shmi is arrested and Anakin declared an enemy of the state, Shmi’s lawsuit finally receives a ruling. And just like that, the clones are legally free. And the judge orders the Senate to pay reparations. Anakin cackles with glee when he hears. 

Rex and Cody, with the full support of the people of Tatooine, begin the long, hard, work of resettling their brothers and building a life for the vod’e. Shmi files a lawsuit against the Zygerrian Empire. Savage receives a new arm, courtesy of Anakin, who may or may not have added a few extra utilities to it. Ahsoka is knighted, and controversially invites Anakin to be present at the ceremony, along with Obi-Wan. Maul admits, very quietly and where only Rex can hear, that he doesn’t actually want to poison him. “I know,” Rex says, smiling at him. Anakin, meanwhile, finally marries Padme, the love of his life (the Senator, not the Rancor).

And in Mos Eisly, there is a stone slab, pulled from a crumbled wall and stuck upright in the ground in the middle of the square. No one knows who put it there, but someone carved fifty-seven names into the stone. The fifty-seven names of the clone troopers who died defending Tatooine from the Separatist army, at the beginning of the war. The last slaves to spill their blood on the sands of Tatooine.

[staarshines]

adhjdjs yesss!! very happy that i found smone else writing for karev haha. could you do number 6 from the frozen prompts with him :’))

Surprises, Surprises, & More Surprises || A.K.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.6k

After a sleepless night, Alex decides you’ve had enough and pulls off a surprise for you, which surprisingly leads to feelings being revealed.

[A/N]: I’m only on season 14 of Grey’s, so if you want to send me a request with a specific scene that happens in the show, please make sure it’s not a spoiler!

Disney Prompts | Nat’s 500

“Hey, wake up.” Your head snaps up and you blink a couple of times, finding yourself standing over a nurse’s station desk. Groaning, you rub your eyes, checking the time and finding that you hadn’t even been asleep for one full minute. “You okay?” You turn to Alex, finding him with raised eyebrows and a concerned look on his face.

“I’m fine,” you yawn, pressing the save button on your file and placing the tablet that you had been working on before you fell asleep on a charger stand.

“You were literally asleep standing up. We have on-call rooms for a reason.”

“The mattresses in there are shit. I still gotta pester Webber to replace those,” you mutter, sighing.

“Were you up studying for a surgery or something?” You shake your head, running a tired hand through your hair to tame it as best you could.

“Meredith and Derek were at it all night. I should’ve known to not take the room under hers intern year,” you state solemnly, sticking out your tongue playfully when Alex laughs at you.

“I told you that you can come sleep with me if that ever happens.”

“What a very tempting offer, Karev, but I’m just not interested. Must be hard for you to face rejection?” you tell him sarcastically, flipping your hair exaggeratedly. 

Honestly? That was the furthest one could get from the truth. You’d had a crush on him since intern year, and you knew you loved him the second year of residency. Those feelings had failed to dissipate, and they haunted you every day. Watching him get with Izzie, then Olivia, next came Addison, then Rebecca, Callie, Lexie; the point is evident. He’d gotten with all of them, but he couldn’t see that the person who’d loved him for years was right in front of his face.

“Oh, shut up. But really. I don’t want you falling asleep on the job when you can just get a good night’s sleep next to me.” For some reason, his last sentence makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach, which is probably the millionth time that’s happened. You wished there was something under those words, you really did, but you’d come to terms with the fact that he didn’t like you a while ago.

“I’m not falling asleep!”

“Oh, please. You were literally asleep standing up.”

“I was resting my eyes,” you defend yourself. “I was just giving my spine a break from supporting my head for a bit.” 

“Yeah, right,” he chuckles, making you push his shoulder.

“I actually went up to your room. You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, though,” you lie with a straight face. 

You had gone up to his room and even sat down on the edge of the bed, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Not stressed or snappy like he’d be on most days, but genuinely peaceful. Eventually, you’d left because you knew you’d get more sleep in your own room than Alex’s; you’d just be staring at him the entire night. 

God, you really could never get enough of that face.

“We both know damn well that I’m a heavy sleeper. Just don’t steal the duvet, yeah?” You laugh with a nod. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What’s this, the fourth time this has happened?”

“Sixth,” you correct with another yawn. “Or seventh. I honestly don’t know.” He tilts his head, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Whatcha thinking, evil spawn?”

“That’s Cristina’s thing. And I’m thinking…” he trails off, prompting you to raise your eyebrows and wave a hand in front of his face. “You know what? I have a surprise for you. You get off at nine today, right?”

“I do, but why? What’s the surprise?” you question, genuinely intrigued as to what he was gonna pull off. 

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” You pout, watching him wink at you and walk off. “I’ll pick you up at the ER entrance once you’re done!” he calls out to you. You nod and realize there’s a patient you need to get to, but you’re deep in your thoughts as you walk the hallway to the Cardiac ICU.

What the hell was he gonna pull off?

“Put this on.” Alex hands you a blindfold and you look at him with a disbelieving expression, slapping it out of his hand and raising an eyebrow.

“I should’ve known there was something wrong when you sent me that text to meet you in your car,” you laugh, watching him huff.

“If you don’t put on the blindfold, then the surprise is gonna be ruined. You’re gonna know as soon as we pull into the damn lot, so just put it on?” You give him a weary look and pick it up from where you slapped it onto the dash of his car, slowly wrapping it around your head. Hearing him start the car, you sigh and bite your lip.

“I swear, if you’re playing some kind of joke, I’ll land you in the E.R., and not even by accident.” He chuckles before reversing the car and driving out of Grey-Sloan’s parking lot.

“Can I take this thing off now?” you whine, holding his hands and steadily walking—well, you don’t really know where. He’d just led you up a flight of stairs, so you’re pretty sure you’re walking down a hallway now.

“Just a couple more steps and we’ll be there,” he mutters, holding both of your hands and guiding you—again, you don’t have a clue where. “All right, stop. I gotta open this door.” You can hear keys jangle and you’re even more confused. “Okay, come on.” He leads you into the room, presumably, and puts his hands on the back of your blindfold, untying it. “Voilà!”

You flinch at the sudden change of light, putting a hand over your eyes and slowly blinking until you can open your eyes without any pain. An apartment—maybe a loft?—meets your gaze, and your jaw drops at how beautiful it is. Perfectly catered to your and Alex’s tastes, almost of like he had it custom-made.

“This—Holy shit. This is beautiful. What—How? Wait, why’d you bring me here?” You turn around to find him with a proud grin on his face, and you can read everything just from that. “This is ours?”

“Remember when we went apartment hunting because you started having the same problem with Derek and Mer and we came across that really musty loft that you said you wouldn’t move into in a million years?” He waves around, and your eyes widen.

“That’s this?” You walk slowly further into the loft, still awed by how much it had changed. What once used to look like a place where druggies would go to hang out now looked like a dream apartment. “How the hell did you manage this?”

“Well,” he walks up right next to you, admiring the loft, “you know I don’t like being told I can’t do something.”

“You did this? By yourself?” The surprises keep coming and coming, and you’re pretty sure your jaw is permanently unhinged because of how wide your mouth is open in shock. He nods proudly, putting his hands on his hips. “Let me get this straight. You renovated this by yourself?”

“Not too bad, huh?” You scoff disbelievingly, still not believing what you were seeing. “What? Do you not like it?”

“Are you serious? ‘Not too bad’?”

“We can find a different—”

“No! God, you can be such an idiot at times,” you laugh, pulling him into a hug. “It’s perfect.” He pushes you back by your shoulders but so much so that your arms are still around his torso, eyes darting all over your face to see if you’re kidding.

“You really like it?” You fight back a grin—and fail—at how cute he can be at times, nodding your head eagerly.

“I love it! I could kiss you! I could. I mean, I’d like to. I. May I? We me? I mean, may we? Wait, what?” The gravity of what you just said slaps you right in the face, and you remove your hands from his figure and start to let your mind race for an excuse. “I didn’t mean to say that—”

“You want to kiss me?” he asks in a soft whisper with the smallest smile on his face. You get lost in how awed he looks, nodding slightly.

“I’ve wanted to. Since intern year…” you trail off, thinking it won’t hurt if you tell him a bit more. You’ve already caused enough damage.

You realize it’s definitely not damage when his lips come crashing down into yours and he pulls you into him, hands gently cupping your face.

It’s not a soft kiss, but it’s not a rough kiss, either. It’s a kiss that’s full of longing, emotions, and “I’ve wanted to do this for so long”. You’re so in shock that you don’t actually register when he pulls away, so your eyes stay closed for a couple seconds longer than they should. When you open them, you’re taken aback again by all the adoration swimming in his eyes. Your eyes are having their own conversation with his, silently telling each other everything you two couldn’t communicate verbally.

“You like me?” You’re almost sorry his words break the nearly magical moment, giving him a light slap upside the head.

“No, I just kissed you for the hell of it. Of course I like you, dumbass!”

“And you’ve liked me since intern year.” Even the insufferable grin on his face isn’t enough to make you regret kissing him, which is a first.

“Oh, shut up about it and kiss me again.”

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[streetlight11]

Ghost Of You

Summary: The fraternal twins were transfer students who happened to join his class. He and his best friend ends up getting close to the twins and they fell for them romantically. One day, the twins came to school with cuts and bruises, making the best friends worry. What happens when the two friends came to pay the twins a visit at their apartment after they were absent for two days, only to receive the most shocking news they've ever heard?

Theme: college au, strangers to lovers

Genre: slight fluff, mild horror [not really], sad

Warning: mentions of death at the end

WC: 2.3k

Pairing: Ju Haknyeon x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello guys! Here's a little sad little fic for you. I realised I wrote alot of 'as' in this fic💀 Apologies for that, this has been in my google drive since a while back so my writing might not be so good but I tried :')

College life was definitely a challenge as it was a higher level of qualification and many students tend to struggle at first. But it wasn’t the case for Leena and Haknyeon. They were very smart kids who never failed to help each other in their weaker subjects. They have been close friends since high school but never once have they seen each other in a romantic light.

But there were times where their bickering would be similar to those of a couple’s fight and people would often mistake them for one.

Haknyeon is very protective over Leena as he would sometimes baby her even though she wasn’t his biological sister. So when they managed to enter the same college, he felt accomplished as they chose the same course.

Their first few months of school was hectic as the module’s content is pretty heavy and dry but they persevered through it together. They were 7 months in with school when their lecturer entered the class one day only to announce a new arrival of two transfer students.

“Listen up everyone. Starting from today onwards, we have two new students joining us. I hope you will all welcome them warmly and guide them through the lessons in case they can’t keep up.” With that being said, he turned to the door and called for them to come in. Only for two individuals to walk in. One was a male and the other was a female. But what sticks out about them is their resemblance with each other.

“Good morning all. I’m Juyeon.” The male said.

“And I’m Y/N.” The female said.

“We hope you welcome us with open arms.” Juyeon continued.

The class cheered for them as the lecturer told the two new students to sit at the empty table at the very back of the room. Leena couldn’t tear her eyes off Juyeon as Haknyeon had to practically nudge her side to bring her back to reality.

“Yah, stop staring so much, you can practically burn a hole through his head.” Haknyeon said.

Leena scoffed as she turned back to Juyeon, only to see him ruffling Y/N’s hair. “Do you think they’re a couple?” She asked sadly.

“Couple? I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re twins. They literally look like each other.” Haknyeon said as he leaned forward to get a good look at the two new students. Y/N was smiling as she happened to glance around the room, only to lock eyes with Haknyeon. He flinched as he awkwardly pulled back to avoid her gaze, making her giggle in her seat.

“What’s wrong with you, weirdo?” Juyeon whispered as a smile threatened to form on his lips.

“Nothing you should care about.” She smiled as she stuck her tongue out, making him wrap his arms around her neck, bringing her into a quick headlock. After class ended, some of the students came up to Y/N and Juyeon, only to ask the same question Leena asked a few hours ago.

“Are you guys together?”

“How long have you guys dated?”

“Are you dating each other?”

With that, Juyeon and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as the rest of them got confused. “It would be incest if we dated each other.” Y/N said.

“She’s my twin sister.” Juyeon said.

A series of gasps were heard as Haknyeon raised his brows tauntingly at Leena, knowing his guess was correct. “See? Told you.” He smirked. Leena huffed as she turned to where the twins were seated, only to see his eyes turn into two crescent moons as the corner of his lips curved upwards into a smile.

A few days passed, Leena and Haknyeon didn't really get the chance to properly talk to the twins. They were just seated at one of the tables during lunch when Juyeon spoke up, “Are these seats taken?” Leena looked up only to see Juyeon glancing between Haknyeon and her.

“Nope. Go ahead.” Haknyeon said as he flashed them a wide smile.

They watched as Juyeon took a seat beside Haknyeon while Y/N took a seat beside Leena. The four of them ended up getting to know each other more as they found out that Y/N and Juyeon moved from Jeju to Seoul. Weeks become months, and they grew quite close to each other.

However, it was pretty obvious that Juyeon had started to like Leena and vice versa. Haknyeon also began to fall for Y/N and so did she. It was a rainy evening and Y/N promised to come over and help Haknyeon with his Chemistry assignment. Hence, the reason why she was standing there in front of his apartment door, soaking wet.

“I thought you were going to drive here?” He asked as he let her in, telling her to stay put as he went to get for her a clean towel.

“I wanted to but I forgot to get gas. So Juyeon had to call the tow truck.” She said. Haknyeon came back with a towel and clean clothes for her to change into. She came back out wearing his oversized shirt and ankle high socks to keep her warm. She looked so cozy as he almost wished he could cuddle and kiss her right then and there.

They were just seated on the floor in front of his couch with their laptops on the coffee table, when she asked him if he needed a break. In which he said yes. He was just resting his head on the table, mumbling the chemical equation at the top of his head when he felt her play with his hair. He looked up to see her seated on his couch as she rested her hand at the back of his neck.

“Don’t stress yourself out.” She encouraged him.

Haknyeon sighed as he got up, only to join her on the couch. He rested his head against the couch cushion as he closed his eyes.

Y/N watched him peacefully before she leaned forward to type something on her laptop. Haknyeon opened his eyes when a strong floral scent tickled his nostrils, making him realise that it was coming from her. Never had he smelled someone this good, he almost wanted to bury his nose in it.

Just then, she turned to lock eyes with him, only for his lazy eyes to stare back at her innocently. “Should we call it a day?” She asked.

He knew he needed to study but he couldn’t help but feel like his brain could absorb so much before it exceeds its capacity. He simply nodded as his lips formed a pout, making her giggle. A few minutes after they turned off their laptops and was just barely cuddling on the couch, watching a romcom show, he turned to her to ask a very personal question.

“This might sound… a little absurd, in which I promise I’m not intentionally being rude… but are you, dating anyone at the moment?”

With that, she smiled as she shook her head, making him feel like a whole weight was being lifted off his shoulders. She giggled as she nudged his elbow to tease him as she spoke up.

“Why are you asking?” She said. He began to panic as he struggled to find the right words.

“If it’s hard for you to say it, maybe you can show me?” She said bravely, only for him to stare at her. She smiled at him as she sat there quietly, waiting to see his next move. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he actually doesn’t feel the same for her but for some reason, she had a feeling that the result might come out positive.

His breath was starting to feel heavy as he didn’t want her to get the wrong information. So without further ado, he leaned in only to kiss her on the lips.

She smiled into the kiss as her hands found itself cupping his face gently before moving her lips together with his. His arms slowly snaked around her waist as he pulled her on top of his lap. While this was happening, Juyeon went out with Leena on the same day as he brought her to go watch a movie and also play at the arcade.

Weeks turned to months as the two couples grew stronger bonds as time passed by. One day, both Y/N and Juyeon came to school with a few cuts and bruises on their faces and arms. Both Haknyeon and Leena got worried as they asked what caused the bruises. Juyeon simply told them that they accidentally fell while cycling, only for Leena to scold them and remind them to be more careful next time.

Both Y/N and Juyeon smiled as they nodded to Leena’s warning. A few months later, it was a friday evening and Haknyeon was on the phone with Leena, just discussing some stuff when he brought up a topic that has been lingering in his head for a while.

“Hey Leena, I know this might sound weird… but have you ever wondered why the twins have never once invited us over to their home ever since 4 months back?” Haknyeon spoke up.

Suddenly, the line fell quiet as Leena thought about what to answer.

“I noticed it. But I just thought that maybe they just don’t feel comfortable with having others around that often.” She said. They tried to drop the topic as they ended up talking about the upcoming movie that was coming out in the cinema.

A few days later, Y/N and Juyeon hadn't been coming to class for the past two days. Both Haknyeon and Leena tried to contact them but none of their text messages and calls went through.

“Should we go and visit? Maybe they’re sick or something?” Haknyeon suggested.

Leena nods as she told him they could stop by after class. Once they were there at the twins’ apartment building, they went up to the level, only to stop right in front of their doorstep. Haknyeon wanted to knock on the door when it creaked open slightly. He turned to Leena, only for him to frown.

He carefully pushed the door open further, that’s when he saw the interior of the house.

Everything was covered with white plastics. Every single furniture was covered, it resembled an empty home that was just waiting for someone to buy and own the place. “Did they move house?” He asked as he tried to turn the lights on but there was no electrical flow in the house.

“Maybe they did… but most of their stuff is still here.” She said.

They walked in deeper, using their phone flashlights as their source of light. Just then, Haknyeon noticed the plastic was slightly lifted, leaving a small part of the table in the tv room uncovered.

He walked over to it, only to see two picture frames.

The one on the left was a family photo. The other was a photo of Y/N and Juyeon standing side by side, with wide happy smiles on their faces. “Why didn’t we notice this before?” Haknyeon asked.

“Because this wasn’t here?” Leena said. With that, they went back out of the house and closed the door, only for an elderly lady living in the apartment next door to leave her home. So Haknyeon decided to ask her. “Excuse me, Ma’am. Sorry to bother you, but is there anybody living in this apartment by the names of Y/N and Juyeon?”

“Oh, yes yes. The twins… Oh they were so nice and lovely. They used to live here. Every evening, they would always help me with carrying my groceries.” With that, Leena and Haknyeon turned to each other with a frown as Leena decided to ask.

“What do you mean, used to live here? Did they recently move house?”

“Oh dear, no they didn’t. They both passed away 4 months ago in a tragic car crash. They were in a hit and run situation. The drunk driver collided with the passenger seat of his car. The poor sister died on the spot while her brother died during the ride to the hospital.” Leena and Haknyeon stood there in horror as they stared at the elderly woman, unable to process this information.

It can’t be true. They met them everyday at school. They touched them, they hugged them, they held hands, and it all felt real. This must have been a prank. “Uhh, t-thank you ma’am. We’ll… We’ll be on our way.” Haknyeon excused himself as he quickly went back to his car along with Leena close beside him.

“No, no, no this can’t be right. We saw them everyday… We just saw them 3 days ago!” Leena frowned, her voice slowly rising in fear as her body trembled. Haknyeon reached over to hold her hands to calm her down.

Leena asked if she could stay over at his place, suddenly feeling afraid as she couldn’t trust herself if she was alone for the time being. Leena was just staring into space on Haknyeon’s couch when he came over to her quietly. The moment he sat down, he held his phone in front of her, only to see a news article that was posted online, 4 months ago.

With the headline being;

“Two college students who were believed to be fraternal twins, died in a fatal car crash in a hit and run accident.”

And in the beginning of the paragraph, it states the names of the victims. That’s when Leena couldn’t help but cover her mouth with her hand as she read Y/N and Juyeon’s exact names off the article.

“I can’t believe this…” She whispered as he pulled her into a hug. She cried as he forced his tears back, knowing they have to accept the fact that their friends, but also their lovers, had already left them and that they will never come back as a living human being.

~~~

[venialsun]

to begin with, take warning (2/3)

[read on ao3]

1 | 2 | 3

When Damian found his way to his first class of the day, having missed something called homeroom and the first ten minutes, the instructor shook his head playfully and made Damian introduce himself and explain what he had done over the summer. He could not say he had spent the past few months traipsing across the globe, hanging out with killers and thieves, and dying more often than not as he tried to escape the oppressive feeling that had descended upon Gotham after years of tragedies and increasing catastrophes. So he said he spent some time with his mother’s family on their private island, which was close enough, took a seat at the back of the room, and listened to his classmates reconnect with old friends and talk about their vacations and holidays with an increasing sense of annoyance.

The rest of the morning classes were no better. The teachers would guide the students through introductions and some small talk, go through their syllabus, and sometimes begin a lesson that Damian was entirely bored by. A few of his classmates tried to speak with him, asking him questions about his family, about himself, and smiling welcomingly at him, but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about that can of worms. He was not sure what he would say, how to spin his life into something half-truthful yet still benign. He’d never had to before. The rest of the students ignored him, and he was more than happy to ignore them right back.

By lunchtime, he was contemplating leaving and telling his Father he was done with this whole experiment. But Yanez’s yellow slip burned in his pocket, and Damian was not one to give up so easily. He would make it through the day, if nothing else.

The technology atrium was between the main academic building and the arts auditorium. A squat addition to the main building with walls made of glass and supported by steel beams, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the dark slate stones and high neo-Gothic arches and spires of the rest of Gotham Academy. Damian glowered as he neared and realized this was not only the technology atrium but, according to the placard over the main entrance, the Kenneth H. Wayne Technology Atrium.

Of course.

Inside, rows of computers and long tables encircled a central desk where a young woman sat typing at a laptop. She looked up as Damian approached and asked, “What’s up?”

Damian fished out the yellow slip and showed it to her. “Principal Yanez assigned me community tutoring or whatever.”

She took the slip and scanned it. “Already? Dang, kid, what’d ya do?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say. Hold on. Let me pull her notes.” She busied herself clicking and scrolling, then paused. “Oh, wow. I see. Well, hi, Damian. Glad to have you. I’m Miss Daisy.” She handed him back the slip.

“Daisy?” he repeated, incredulous.

“Well, Miss Daskalakis, but I got tired of all you runts mispronouncing it.”

“Miss Daskalakis,” said Damian, exactly.

Daskalakis smiled. “That was pretty good, actually. Okay, in about ten minutes, we should have some of the PSAT and SAT kids show up for their first prep. Make yourself comfortable at one of the tables, eat some of your lunch, and when they show up I’ll introduce you and explain the rundown.”

“Lunch?”

“You brought something to eat, didn’t you? Or you can go pick something up at the cafeteria.” She glanced at her laptop. “There’s still time, and since it’s the first day, there’s no rush.”

Damian hesitated. “Principal Yanez said I was to report here.”

“We’re not going to make you skip lunch, Damian,” said Daskalakis. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. Here, what do you want?” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll message my assistant to bring you something. He should already be at the cafeteria.”

“Anything vegetarian,” he said.

Daskalakis gave him a thumbs up. “Got it.”

He went to sit at one of the long tables. Surreptitiously, he pulled out his phone to figure out what in the world the PSAT and SAT were supposed to be. He was puzzling his way through the most confusingly worded, backwards maths questions he had ever read, when the door opened. Damian glanced up and froze.

The red-headed boy at the entrance to the atrium also froze, eyes wide like he had seen a ghost.

“Colin!” called Daskalakis. “Hey, this is Damian. Thanks for grabbing lunch.”

“Colin,” Damian said.

“Damian,” said Colin Wilkes. “Oh, my god. Damian. Dude!”

“Do you two know each other?” asked Daskalakis.

“No,” said Damian, at the same time Colin said, “Yes.” Then Colin said, “No,” at the same time Damian said, “Yes.”

“Cool,” said Daskalakis, dragging out the oo. “Cool, cool, cool. Can you guys figure that out? We have, like, five minutes.”

Colin approached and deposited what looked like a rice dish with vegetables in front of him. “Um, this is for you. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got you a taco bowl minus the taco.”

“Thanks,” said Damian, accepting the not-taco bowl.

“So.” Colin sat across from him. “Long time no see, huh.”

Damian snorted. “I’ve been busy,” he said.

“No shit. Your family has been freaking out for like the past six months, saying you’re missing and Robin went rogue or something. Then the old Robin came back. The Titans restarted. Then there’s video of another Robin sword-fighting crime all over the world. I assume that was you. Dude, I thought you were dead.”

“To be fair,” said Damian as he opened his taco bowl and mixed the ingredients, “I was. A couple of times. Doesn’t seem to stick.”

Colin laughed. “Your mom?”

Damian chuckled, startling himself. “Something like that. Though the first time was a few years back. I was—gone—for nearly a year, and my Father resurrected me with alien magic.”

“Sick. I remember that,” said Colin. “You dropped off the face of the earth. Didn’t come by the orphanage anymore or sneak out with me for patrols. People were saying Batman went crazy. I thought you just decided you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”

“I—” Damian spooned some rice into mouth. Chewed, swallowed. Colin looked at him throughout, unrelenting. “I didn’t ignore you deliberately. And then after I came back, things were so…”

Colin waved a hand and unwrapped a greasy slice of pizza. He took a bite. “It’s cool, man. You literally just told me you’ve died multiple times. Plural. I can get over my hurt feelings. Seems kind of trivial in comparison.”

Damian frowned and ate some more rice. Colin ate his pizza. Then Damian set his fork down, resolute, grip tight on the handle. As evenly as he could, he said, “I apologize for not being a better friend to you.”

“Whoa.” Colin’s eyebrows shot up. His expression pinched with worry as he searched Damian’s face. “What happened, man?”

Damian swallowed.

Then the door opened again, and an older boy—sixteen or seventeen—peaked inside and asked, “Is this SAT prep?”

“Sure is,” said Daskalakis from the central desk. She stood and indicated Damian and Colin to follow her. “Come in, come in, I’ll set you up right over here.”

Damian stood. “Later,” he said in an undertone. “I’ll explain later. I promise.”

“Okay,” Colin agreed. “But if you disappear on me again, this time I know where you go to school, so there’s no use hiding.”

“Have you known me to ever hide from anything?”

Colin smirked and said nothing.

Damian’s face felt suddenly warm. “Shut up,” he said. “We have work to do.”

•

Surprisingly, tutoring his fellow students was not the disaster he thought it would be. There was some initial skepticism from the upperclassmen about being tutored by a fourteen-year-old, but after Daskalakis declared him “a genius prodigy or something, according to Yanez,” that eventually quieted. It helped that though the PSAT and SAT problems and questions were simple enough, the wording and specificity grated on him, and soon he was insulting the intelligence of the College Board and standardized tests in general. That endeared him to the upperclassmen, and afterward the rest of the lunch hour passed without trouble.

Colin sidled up next to Damian as he gathered his materials to leave and showed him a crumpled-up piece of paper. “What’s your next class?” he asked. It was his schedule.

“Physical education,” said Damian. He had already memorized his own.

“Oh, really? Sweet. Me, too. We’ll go to PE together. I met Coach Freeman at the orientation. I think you’ll like her. What about after?”

Damian listed off his afternoon classes: physical education, then biology, then ancient rhetorics, and ending with a free study period. They shared no core classes, only homeroom, lunch, and physical education. Colin teased him for taking the honors track, and Damian started to complain that the classes were not interesting let alone challenging. But then he got sidetracked by wondering why Colin was somehow not in the honors track but still Daskalakis’s assistant for community tutoring (which, Damian insisted, was a dumb idea for punishments and an even dumber name). Colin laughed and explained he mostly helped with the younger kids. He said he was good with them, thanks to all the practice he’d had helping the nuns wrangle traumatized orphans and foster kids while growing up in the orphanage.

“After all that, spoiled rich kids are easy,” Colin said. He nudged Damian in the ribs. “It’s why we’re friends.”

“I thought that was because we both liked beating up on creeps a little too much,” said Damian, wry.

Colin grinned, and for a moment his face seemed to take on the grisly severity of Abuse—Venom-distorted and menacing. “That too.”

Physical education—“Just call it PE, dude,” Colin said—was a bore, more than Damian had anticipated. After changing into their gym uniforms and the requisite round of introductions, Coach Freeman set them on an obstacle course made up of rubber tires and colorful ropes. Damian was not impressed. But he remembered what his Father had said about damaging school property and refrained from destroying the so-called obstacles as he passed his struggling classmates and returned to Coach Freeman.

“What now?” he asked. To his frustration, he had hardly broken a sweat.

“Excuse me,” said Freeman. “Why aren’t you on the course?”

“I’ve finished it.”

“You’ve finished it?” Freeman checked the stopwatch hanging from her neck. “In slightly under six minutes? I don’t think so. Did you take a shortcut?”

“No,” said Damian. “It was easy.”

“Right. Well, if it was so easy, then hop to it. Do it again,” she said. “And this time, I’ll be watching you.”

“Weren’t you already supposed to be doing that?” asked Damian, but he did not argue further and restarted the course. It was better than doing nothing and standing around like an invalid, anyway.

This time he forced himself to go slower, aware he had done something abnormal. But it wasn’t his fault he was above this child’s play. He jogged the 100 meters to the start of course, climbed up the wooden incline, jumped down, belly-crawled under the mesh ropes, alternated jumps between tires then between wooden slats, climbed the rope to ring a bell, balanced across the too-wide beams, swung from bar to bar, and finished off by climbing over three wooden walls of increasing height. At the last wall, he paused and pulled a girl who had been struggling for the last two minutes up and over. Then he jumped down and high-fived Colin, who had finished his first runthrough. Going slower had forced him to focus the strain on his muscles, and the burn in his body and clarity of mind was starting to feel comforting and familiar.

He jogged back to Coach Freeman. “Shall I go again?”

She clicked her stopwatch and stared at it. Then she stared at him. “Slightly under eight minutes,” she said. “What’s your name, son?”

“I’m not your son.” He crossed his arms. “And name’s Damian. Damian Wayne.”

“Wayne, huh?” Freeman grinned. “Well, Mr. Wayne, Gotham Academy’s happy to have you. What’s your poison?”

“Pardon?”

“Your sport, Mr. Wayne. Your sport. Everyone’s got one. And if you don’t, not to worry. The Academy’s got a team for everything. You’ll be attending the end-of-day assembly, correct?”

“It is mandatory,” said Damian.

“Perfect,” said Freeman. “The main teams will be doing showcases there. Scope them out, see what you think. General tryouts are in two weeks, and I expect to see you there.”

Damian grimaced. “Do you now.”

Freeman nodded. “Sure do.” Then her attention drifted; her nose scrunched, she blew her whistle and screamed across the field, “You two, under the mesh! Keep your hands to yourselves! No one needs to see all that!”

•

The rest of the day passed quickly. He ran the course twice more, for the hell of it, alternating between pausing to help a classmate over a particularly difficult hurdle or shouting at them to hurry the hell up so Damian could finish already. He got used to the rhythm of it, the formula of general teacher attention interspersed with student social-play. By Ancient Rhetorics, he was an old hat at describing his incredibly fun island adventure halfway across the world and not scowling whenever anyone bemoaned their envy at the life of a rich socialite without responsibilities or true problems. He had even managed to hold a few short conversations with two or three of his classmates, though for the life of him he could not remember their names. A day of nothing but introductions had thoroughly fried his brain and prevented him from retaining anything more complicated than Jessica—because there did seem to be an awful lot of Jessicas.

His phone buzzed as the early bell rang and he merged into the streaming crowd of students heading for the auditorium for the back-to-school assembly.

It was a message from his Father:

Dinner tonight.

He frowned and tapped out a quick reply.

“Hey, Damian, over here!”

Damian looked up. Across the auditorium, Colin was surrounded by a group of teenagers and waving him over. Damian approached, pocketing his phone as he went. Then he paused and groaned when he recognized the small girl with yellow hair ribbons hovering excitedly between Colin and another group of older-looking students.

Fuck it. Damian ducked behind some large boys in jerseys and helmets—not hiding, per se, just utilizing his extensive array of evasive maneuvers to achieve a desired outcome—but it was too late. She had already spotted him.

“Oh my crap! Damian! You’re here?!”

Damian sighed and accepted his fate. With as much dignity as he had left, he emerged from behind the football team.

“Of course you two know each other,” he muttered.

“Huh?” said Colin.

“It is you!” exclaimed Maps Mizoguchi. “Olive, look who it is!”

From the group of older students, a girl with platinum blonde hair glanced over and, seeing Damian, scowled. “Oh,” said Olive Silverlock. “I did hear a Wayne was coming to Gotham Academy. Weren’t you expelled already?”

“You’ll find I’m hard to get rid of, Silverlock,” said Damian.

“Yanez is a softie, of course she let you back in,” continued Olive, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Hammerhead would’ve rather died.”

“You guys know each other?” asked Colin, looking concerned and glancing between them.

“No,” said Damian and Olive, at the same time Maps said, “Heck yeah! We’re all friends!”

“Doth mine ears deceive me? Did I hear Wayne—as in billionaire, more-money-than-I-would-know-what-to-with, bordering-on-unethical-wealth Wayne?” An older boy with sunglasses popped up behind Damian and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Good sir, might I interest you in—”

“Remove yourself from my person at once before I break your arm.”

The boy held up his hands and stepped away. “Got it, got it. No touchy. I can respect that,” he said. “So, Wayne, how do you feel about acquiring some fireworks for your own personal mischief?” He tilted his sunglasses down, conspiratorially. “At a discounted price, of course. Us trouble-makers have to stick together, y’know.”

“Quit it, Colton,” snapped Olive.

“Yeah,” laughed Colin. “That was Damian being nice.”

“You associate with these people?” Damian asked.

Colin shrugged. “I’m a part-time member of the Detectives Club.”

“Pizza club,” corrected Maps.

“The what.”

“Nerd club that solves school mysteries and shit,” said a girl from Colin’s group of younger students. She waved. “Hey, I’m Jess. Nice to meet you.”

Another fucking Jessica.

“Damian,” said Damian, putting up a hand in greeting.

This started another round of introductions and names he immediately deleted from his memory. Who knew Colin was so popular? It was the first day of school; he had not thought it was possible to align yourself with so many friends so quickly unless your name was Dick Grayson.

Slowly, both groups of younger and older students shuffled forward to their seats, helped along by the half-hearted encouragement of manic-looking adults. Somehow, Damian found himself squished between both groups, Colin on one side and Maps on another, as they chatted across him about summer and clubs and the teachers they already hated. Sensing an opportunity Damian told them of his run-in with Headmaster Hammer that morning, which triggered another round of commiserating laughter and louder complaints about what a hardass Hammerhead was—for they called the headmaster Hammerhead. Olive and Maps were the only ones to defend him, citing his one-man defense of the Academy when Joker had tried to take over the city two years ago.

“So?” said Damian. “Joker’s a bitch. He tries to take over the city all the time. That’s not impressive.”

By which a stuffy-looking blond boy in the row behind them became offended, scoffing, and Damian begrudgingly felt his respect grow for Colin’s friends as they immediately dog-piled on the boy for his shit opinion. Then no one could agree who of the Gotham rogues wasn’t a little bitch. And the argument devolved from there until Olive said Batman was a little bitch, too. Everyone laughed.

The lights dimmed. An off-key note rang out as the school band warmed up, and Headmaster Hammer and Principal Yanez stepped on stage.

Slowly in fits and starts, the auditorium quieted, and the assembly began.

next ->

[aggressive-positivity-network]

General Demo in a relationship Headcanons?

Demo in a Relationship

Headcanons

Meeting for the first time:

Probably either at a pub or some sort of restaurant that serves drinks.

He sees a person put something in your drink, and he absolutely loses it. He’s not even drunk (bonus headcanon: he only gets himself drunk if he’s tired or upset) but he just chews the guy out. Tears him a new one.

“YA CAN’T FIND A LASS WITH THAT WORMTOOTH SMILE ‘A YOURS, SO YA DECIDE TA GET ONE ALL DRUGGED UP AND DRAG HER HOME LIKE THE FAE?! YOU’RE GONNA BE THE ONE STUMBLIN’ AROUND ONCE I GET AHOLD OF YA!”

He starts beating the guy up, and invites you to join him. You accept, fists swinging. The manager and bartender say nothing, since they are all very good friends and they watched the whole thing unfold. However, they had to “kick” Demo and you out, since to technically caused trouble on the property. However, they were very nice about it and even got you a free drink to replace the tainted one.

Demo introduces himself and asks if you’d like some company on the way home, since it was getting late. You say yes, and he ends up sleeping on your couch. You don’t mind, and he even calls you that next afternoon to thank you and ask if you’d like to go to dinner as payment.

At first you refuse, because it was no trouble at all, but then realize that this is Demo asking for a date. You set the time, ask off work, and get yourself ready.

First date:

He’s the kind of person to just talk about anything and everything when he’s nervous. And he is certainly nervous on this date.

He’s wearing his normal clothes plus a bow tie and sans his beanie. He still has it in his pocket though - for luck.

He picks a seafood restaurant next to a pier, after making sure that you were a fan of seafood, of course.

The people at this restaurant know him too, and the waitstaff tease him about having a date. He smacks them on the shoulder and says something between his teeth, and they walk away, still laughing.

After the meal, which was comped because of the “entertainment,” they say Demo provided them with, you both walk to the edge of the pier and look at the stars. However, rather than ecstatic, you feel nauseous. The shrimp must have been bad...

You finally puke off the edge of the pier, and Demo pats your back and guides you back to the car, even offering to carry you. He apologizes profusely, and says that he will make sure it never happens again.

You wait in the car while he goes in the restaurant. He comes back with a two-liter bottle of ginger ale, a straw, and a huge gash on his knuckle that was bound up with a washcloth.

When you ask about it, he says not to worry about it and that he took care of it. You decide not to press him.

Romance beginning:

He asks you out on a park bench, on your fourth or fifth date.

“Er...I know we’ve not know each other long...but I think you’re a real bonny lass, y’know? Perhaps we can...well, I can be your lad?”

At first you don’t get it, and ask if he is asking to marry you. He stumbles and sputters.

“N-no, lass, we’re just kids...I meant...y’know...boyfriend and girlfriend.”

You smile and kiss him on the tip of his nose, which causes him to stammer even more. He didn’t think he would get this far. Embarrassed, he pulls his beanie over his eyes, his usually dark cheeks turning even darker.

You eventually say yes, but you had to wait for Demo to lift his head up from his hands.

Jealousy:

Demo doesn’t get very jealous - he has friends that are girls AND boys, so shooing other boys away doesn’t make much sense to him.

Sometimes he jokes about your guy friends, saying, “What, are ye gonna up and leave me for tall, blonde, ‘n handsome over there?”

But you know full well that he trusts you, and that he knows you can hold your own.

Even if someone flirts with you while you’re out somewhere, he’s relatively civil, even friendly.

“Aye, sorry lad, this one’s taken. Better luck next time.”

There was one time when a guy pushed it way to far.

You two were at the mall - you were looking for a certain figurine of your favorite character, and he was looking for a few...undisclosed items.

A guy asked if you were single, you say no and pointed to Demo, who said the same cheery spiel he always did.

“Huh...though he was your father or somethin’. You sure you should be with a guy that old? He’ll die before you’re in your prime.”

Demo had mellowed out, especially since he was with you, so he just shrugged.

“It’s ma beard. Adds ten years on me.”

“Shows every bit of it, huh?”

Demo begins to look physically frustrated, so you jerk your head, to signal that it was about time to leave the situation.

You guys try to leave, but the guys follow you, continuing to comment about how old Demo is for you.

Finally, the guy says, “I mean, if you guys wanted a threesome, maybe...”

Demo swirls around and punches him in the face, not realizing he still had a brass knuckle he had bought still on his fist. The guy’s nose is broken, and his left eye is bleeding.

The guy tried to sue, but because of Demo’s near immunity (the mercs have great resources), he wasn’t charged. The guy, however, was charged with harassment.

Introduction to the Mercs:

Instead of meeting Demo’s family, you meet his coworkers, which you find a little strange. Demo brushes it off by saying that these people were pretty much his family.

You enter the base’s lobby, and the first thing that you see is a tall, thin man pointing a revolver at you.

“Who are you, and whom do you work for? I’ll gladly get rid of a weak link.”

You, being a detective, cooly draw out your own gun before Demo walks in. He’s absolutely horrified.

“I told ya she was comin’, didn’t I? Ya don’t have ta give her the third degree, Spy!”

Spy raises his eyebrows, checks his watch, and puts his revolver away. “You are a bit early, oui?”

“By five bloody minutes!”

“You can never be too careful, mon ami. My deepest apologies, mademoiselle...”

Spy takes your hand and starts to kiss it, but then just touches it lightly with his forehead for a few seconds.

The other mercs trickle in, starting with Scout.

“Hey, so this is the broad you’ve been talkin’ about, huh?”

He takes a closer look at you, then grins.

“She doesn’t have a little sister, does she?”

Demo smacks Scout in the back of the head playfully. “She’d be out of your league even if she was just half as beautiful.”

“Aw, c’mon, who can resist this?” he says, gesturing to his face and winking at you.

Engineer and Heavy are next.

Engineer shakes your hand and takes off his building hat.

Heavy tries to get down to your level. “She is...small...” He glances at the gun, which is still in your hand, and laughs a booming laugh. “But she is fierce!” He glances at Demo. “Be careful with this one.”

By the time Sniper walks in, you’re wondering how many there are.

Sniper tips his hat so far down that is covers his eyes. “G’day.”

Soldier and Pyro come in together, and Soldier salutes and says, “Welcome to the ranks, maggot!”

Pyro, on the other hand, runs up and hugs you, almost lifting you completely off the ground. You’ve seen a few hazmat suits, but you’re still a little unnerved.

Finally, Medic walks in, Archimedes still on his finger.

“Ach, vhy are there alvays visitors during feeding time...?”

Six or seven doves soon follow, landing pretty much anywhere they can. In fact, one of them lands on you. It startles you a bit, but you are soon petting it’s head. Medic gently retrieves it from you.

Instead of greeting you, he looks you up and down.

“Five foot seven - a bit tall for a woman - Indian descent, I’m sure. But...there is something else...ah! Yes! African American! Your hair is straightened, but has that same texture that is common in that race. About thirty years of age. And...”

He looks at your feet.

“...slightly pigeon-toed.”

You blink, then start putting your hair in a ponytail.

“Six feet. Pure German descent. Mid-forties. Ambidextrous, though you lean more towards your right, ‘cause your callouses are bigger on your right hand. May or may not be sociopathic, since you studied everyone’s faces and matched their expressions before you talked to me. And...do you usually wear gloves?”

Medic nods, his eyes wide and his mouth on the verge of a smile. He looks at Demo, then back at you.

“God help you if you decide to cheat.”

Demo shakes his head. “I would never.”

That’s about all I have for you folks! If this is popular enough, I might make a part two!

But hey, my TF2 headcanons are always open!

[shoutobabes]

An excerpt from an OCxShouto fic I’ve been working on:

———————————————

Todoroki Shouto hated formal events.

He had attended enough Hero Awards Galas as a young child with his father to soil his opinion of them nearly two decades later, a pro hero in his own right. But tonight was not about his father.

Still.

He drummed his fingers on the fine linen tablecloth and watched as the drink in his glass vibrated slightly with each tiny impact. Taptaptap. Taptaptap. Shouto allowed a small trail of frost to travel up the table inching toward the glass. The bottom began to dust with frost. The water at the bottom began to freeze. Taptaptap. Taptaptap. Taptap--

“Will you stop fucking doing that?”

Shuoto whipped his head up to see a pair of angry red eyes glaring at him. Bakugo drove an accusatory finger toward Shoto’s glass.

“You’re like an antsy kid,” Bakugo huffed. “I don’t wanna be at this shit-parade any more than you do, icy hot, but you don’t see me blowing up the fucking finger cakes, do you?”

“I’m not taking Kacchan’s side, Todoroki,” Midoriya spoke up from his seat between the two feuding heroes. “But you do certainly seem on edge and, well,” Midoriya gulped and glanced toward the stage. “Our category is two away and I’m nervous enough as it is.”

Shouto blinked. “I can stop tapping the table.”

“Yeah, and then you’re gonna start shaking your leg like you were half an hour ago before you started tapping the goddamn table,” Bakugo crossed his arms and faced back toward the stage. “Take a fuckin’ walk. Do a guided meditation in the men’s room, for all I care, but if you stay here you’re gonna piss me off.”

Shoto turned to face Midoriya, often the peacekeeper in these altercations.

Midoriya seemed to be very interested in his napkin.

“Alright, then,” Shouto stood and fixed his tuxedo jacket. “I can take a hint.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Midoriya waved his hands while shaking his head. “It’s just--”

“He gets it, Deku,” Bakugo rolled his eyes.

“Sorry,” Midoriya said, sheepishly.

“I’ll be back in time for the award announcement,” Shouto said as he walked away.

A walk was probably for the best.

Shouto wove his way through tables and chairs full of politely clapping patrons and pro heroes who were practically unrecognizable in their finery outside of their suits and gear. He recalled his father complaining about being forced into a tuxedo for these types of events. His mother would always wave them off wistfully, recounting times when she had been the No. 2 hero’s plus one while Fuyumi cried at being left behind and Natsuo would mope and pretend he didn’t care. Touya would just sit and stare. Until he didn't.

So lost in thought was Shouto, that he didn’t notice the girl in front of him until it was too late. Suddenly, he was staring at the empty glass in his hand trying to make his brain connect it to the growing wet spot on the front of the girl's dress.

Their eyes locked for a moment of shocked silence; silver and turquoise meeting violet eyes widened. A beat passed. Shouto regained his composure.

“My humblest apologies,” he finally said with a small bow. “I have no excuse. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I—“

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” the girl shook her head with a small smile. She had long, silver-white hair parted cleanly down the middle. “Not to brag or anything, but I’m kind of a dry cleaning expert.”

She lifted an arm and made a grabbing motion over her chest with one hand and Shoto watched as the spilled champagne drew itself out into a bubble of liquid. It hovered for a moment, then with a flick of the girl’s wrist, it flew into the pot of a nearby plant.

“Looked a little thirsty,” the girl said with a conspiratorial wink. “No harm no foul. Looks like you could use another drink, though.”

“Isn’t that my line?” Shouto raised a slight brow, elemental quirks were always fascinating and he met so few others with quirks like his. “I’m the offender in the situation, I feel as though it’s only right I’m the one buying you a drink.”

“Well then, it seems we’re in agreement,” the girl gestured to the corner of the room where the bar was set up. “We’re heading to the bar.”

Shouto nodded as the pair made their way over. He gave the girl a once-over; she seemed familiar but he didn’t recognize her as a hero in the Musutafu region or anywhere in Japan for that matter. She wore a simple, pale lavender gown.

“Gin and tonic,” Shouto told the bartender before nodding to his companion. “And for you?”

“Could I get a lemonade?” She asked, with a tilt of her head. “Oh, and if you have some sort of strawberry syrup could you mix that in, too? Thanks.” She grinned at the bartender as he nodded before walking away. She turned to Shouto who admittedly, realized he looked surprised.

“You don’t drink?” He asked.

“Can’t stand the taste,” she replied.

“I see.”

She studied him for a moment. Shouto felt as if he were under a microscope, being picked apart like a bacteria. Normally being analyzed like this would make his skin crawl, yet there was no malicious intent behind the girl’s eyes. Merely a curiosity, as if he were a puzzle she was trying to solve. The bartender brought over their drinks and the girl took a sip before suddenly breaking the silence.

“Why do you look like a turkey come late November?”

“I’m sorry?” Shouto squinted in confusion.

“My bad, I forget I’m not in the States anymore,” she self-consciously tucked hair behind her ear. “I meant to say, why do you look like this is the last place in the world you want to be?”

“The states?” Shouto asked. “Is that where you’re from?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose, technically.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well to be fair, you never answered my question.”

“And what was your question?”

“Why do you look so miserable to be here?”

Shoto grimaced delicately and took a gulp of his drink. “Ask any other question and I’ll answer that instead.

“Ah, so this is off limits, then,” the girl waggled her eyebrows. “Fine. How about...what brings you here tonight?”

Shoto sighed. That, at least, he could answer.

“My agency is up for an award tonight,” he said. “My partners and I are here in the hopes we receive it.”

“An award! How exciting,” the girl gave Shoto a funny look, as if she knew something he didn’t. “I’m sure you’ll win.”

“It would be an honor,” Shoto said slowly, feeling as if he were being left out of some joke. “To know that the people we are striving to serve believe in us so much.”

“Of course,” the girl nodded. “Your turn. For questions, that is.”

Shoto hummed in response as he took another sip. “I’m assuming that inquiring about the reason you’re drinking lemonade is...off limits?”

The girl sipped her own drink through the small straw that had come with it. “You learn quick! Beauty and brains, the ladies must love you.”

Shouto’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I wasn’t aware that having one precluded the occurrence of the other. Brains and beauty are two separate elements, their probability of occurring are in no way reliant upon the occurrence of the other.”

“Absolutely true, shame on me for assuming,” she nodded seriously. “But I didn’t hear a question there. Do you forfeit your turn?”

“No,” Shouto protested. “Fine. What do you mean you’re ‘technically’ from the States?”

“Oh, that,” she waved her hand absentmindedly. “I was born there, and I did spend my high school years there, but I spent most of my childhood here and this is where all my fondest memories are from.”

“I see,” Shouto replied.

“I think of myself as being from Kanagawa,” she clarified. “Coastal. I was always fond of the ocean.”

“Did that have to do with your quirk?” Shouto asked, recalling the way she had manipulated the liquid from her dress.

The girl opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by sudden loud cheering from the other side of the ballroom.

“That’s right folks— the award for Best Upcoming Agency goes to Plus Ultra! The hero agency run by graduates of our very own U.A. High School! Please give a hand to the heroes Deku, Dynamight, and Shouto as they come up to collect their award.”

“Shit,” Shouto cursed. He had promised Midoriya he would be back in time. “My apologies again, but I need to go immediately.”

“More apologies,” the girl joked, finishing off her drink. She set it on the bar next to Shouto’s half finished one. “Run along and don’t miss your big award!”

Shouto was already halfway across the ballroom. As he joined his partners on stage, Midoriya was at the microphone holding the award and delivering a speech of gratitude. Bakugo elbowed Shouto as discreetly as he was capable of doing anything discreetly and shot him a dirty look for being late.

“I deserve that,” Shouto whispered.

“Damn right,” Bakugo hissed.

“—in conclusion, we would just like to thank you all from the heart of the Plus Ultra Agency. We could not do this without your continued support and we will continue to go above and beyond to keep you safe! Plus Ultra!” Midoriya smiled brightly as he finished his speech.

The three posed on stage for a few quick photos, then stepped down.

“Todoroki, is everything all right?” Midoriya asked immediately. “It’s unlike you to be late.”

“My apologies,” Shouto cringed inwardly, he had apologized too many times tonight. The words were starting to ring hollow to even his own ears. “I was taking a walk when I accidentally bumped into—“

“Me, actually,” the girl from earlier materialized from the crowd behind Shouto as she stepped forward. “Literally, in fact.”

“Ms. Kagawa!” Midoriya gasped. “I had no idea you would be here tonight, I’m so sorry! I would have said hello earlier.”

Shouto blinked. How did Midoriya know her?

“Please, no formalities,” Kagawa shook her head. “Call me whatever you prefer, it’s just nice to finally meet you all.”

That’s when it clicked. Shouto recalled a team meeting from the month before.

———————

“Why are we bringing in some random chick, again?” Bakugo groaned, putting his feet up on the table from where he was sitting in the conference room. “We don’t need any extra help, hell, I could run this place alone if I wanted to!”

“Well, it’s like I said,” Midoriya replied patiently. “We did great for it being our first year as full heroes running our own agency together. But if we want to keep growing and getting better, we’ll need more than a few sidekicks and interns. We’re going to need another pro to help carry the weight and round out patrols. I thought we all agreed?”

“We did,” Shouto didn’t look up from his paperwork. “Bakugo conveniently chose to forget.”

“Fuck off, icy hot,” Bakugo said. “Whatever. At least this chick seems like she could give some of these thugs a run for their money. Wasn't she like, some big deal in America?”

“She was,” Midoriya clicked his pen nervously. “She’s had a, uh, difficult road. I’m hoping we’ll be able to help her as much as she’ll help us. Or at least that’s the plan. She won’t be here for another couple months, she’s wrapping up her personal business I think.”

“Mm,” Shouto intoned, absentmindedly.

—————————-

Shouto cursed himself for not paying more attention to important meetings. Yet, none of them had expected her so early.

“We weren’t expecting you so soon,” Midoriya said nervously, voicing Shouto’s thoughts. “You weren’t due for ah, another month?”

“You’re right,” Kagawa said sheepishly. “I closed in on an apartment here sooner than expected and, well, wanted to just get on with it.”

“Of course,” Midoriya nodded. “Ah, but we should do formal introductions!”

“Yes, right,” Kagawa nodded with a smile. “Well I already know you from our correspondence! Midoriya Izuku, hero name Deku, a pleasure.”

Midoriya smiled and they shook hands.

“Bakugo Katsuki, hero name Dynamight,” she cracked a lopsided grin. “I’ve heard...explosive things.”

“Shitty joke,” Bakugo shook her hand. “People only say the best shit about me.”

“Obviously,” Kagawa nodded before turning to Shouto. “And of course, we’ve already been acquainted. Todoroki Shouto, hero name Shouto, a pleasure.”

Shouto shook her hand. She had a firm grip. “I’ve made...better first impressions.”

“No, I enjoyed it,” Kagawa said. “It was genuine. You had no cause to act unnaturally to make a good first impression. It was...refreshing.

“That’s a polite way of saying he fucked up,” Bakugo chuckled.

She smiled. “Now for me, I suppose. Kagawa Ren, hero name Kaguya. But you’re hiring me, I’m sure you know.”

“We’re really excited to have you!” Midoriya said, beaming. “My, uh, my friend Uraraka--”

Bakugo barked out a laugh and Shouto suppressed a small smile.

Midoriya began to sweat. “Anyways, um, she- she couldn’t make it tonight because she had to go visit her parents but she’s been excited to have another female hero around. She says our agency is too filled with testosterone.”

“Sounds like me and Uraraka will get along swimmingly.” Kagawa assured.

“Are we still getting drinks to celebrate?” Bakugo said impatiently. “I told Kirishima he could meet us at that shitty bar we always go to.”

Midoriya ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah, yeah we are, just, I wanted to talk with Kagawa about some details really quick.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “And we can’t do that at the bar? She can come, it’s her celebration now too, or whatever.”

“Just tell Kirishima he can meet us there in thirty,” Midoriya pleaded. “I’ll make it quick. Here, Kagawa, why don’t you walk with me back to our table? I’ll grab everyone’s things and we’ll meet Bakugo and Shouto by the front.”

Kagawa nodded and raised two fingers in a peace sign as means of saying goodbye to the other two heroes as she and Midoriya headed back to the table in conversation.

Shouto looked back at Bakugo who was busy texting.

“I suppose we should head toward the front,” Shouto said uncertainly.

“Yeah, whatever,” Bakugo clicked his phone off and shoved it in his pocket. “So, you talked to her.”

“I did.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Talking to you is like pulling teeth. What did you think of her?”

“I thought she was smart,” Shouto replied simply. “It seems like she’ll make a strong addition to our team.”

“That’s boring shit,” Bakugo huffed. “If Midoriya hired her then I’m sure she’s professional as fuck but don’t wanna spend my time around some shitty boring suit. So, is she gonna be annoying or not?

Shouto sideyed Bakugo as they turned and began walking toward the front. Social interaction had never been his strongest suit. Most interactions he felt like he was a step behind, or focused on the wrong thing, or someone would say something and he would think they were serious only to realize there was a second, different meaning attached. Mostly, he thought conversations were a bit of a minefield, especially with the wrong kind of person.

He thought back to the way Kagawa had studied him. No judgement, just-- curiosity. The good kind. Not like reporters who were always hungry for photos, desperate to know about his love life, dying to hear what restaurant he best liked to dine at so they could stalk him there later as well. No, her curiosity reminded him of when he and his siblings used to go play by the creek near their house as children, before Endeavor began isolating Shouto for training. They would freeze the water in the middle of summer and slide around, pulling frogs and turtles out from frost-covered hidey holes. One day in particular, they had found a small family of deer. They all sat very still by the edge of the water and waited patiently as the fawns ambled down for a drink under the watchful eye of their mother. One fawn had gotten so close to Shouto that their noses nearly touched, and he could smell the breath of the little thing, sweet and springy. He’d looked in its eyes and saw them searching his face. What it found, he did not know.

That had been the last summer of freedom.

“I don’t think she’ll be boring,” Shouto finally said.

“Another stunning review from half and half,” Bakugo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as the boys came to a halt in front of the entrance to the hall. “She better come to get drinks with us or I’ll think she’s a stiff.”

Shouto slid his eyes back over to the ballroom where Midoriya and Kagawa stood, gathering jackets and talking.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he said.

[onetwosevensquad]

Dungeons and Dragons and... Love?: Dungeon Master

Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: the kind Dungeon Master who helps guide your team through your campaign also becomes your math tutor.

Warnings: none??

Rose: sorry this literally took forever to write. Hope your all still interested in this mini series. Next member is Renjun.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

———

Why were you here again?

Oh right, cause you’re a giant nerd who needs an outlet.

The poster had caught your eye when you were headed to lunch one day. It was a beige poster with a 20 sided dice in the middle. That was what got your attention.

You had played Dungeons and Dragons with some of your friends before. It has been a few months since your last campaign and you didn’t know when the next one would start. So, in fear of not being able to escape to a fantasy world, you decided to check it out.

It was now 3:45 in the afternoon. School had ended 15 minutes ago, the hours ticking by slowly. You now stood outside of the AP Government classroom where Mr. Jung taught.

The poster, you remembered, said that Mr. Jung would oversee the club. He was your favorite teacher because he was funny and the class was enjoyable.

Finally, you slowly opened the door to the classroom and stepped in. In the middle of the room, a few desks had been pushed together to create a large table.

Sitting around the table were seven boys who were all staring at you. You awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other, waiting for literally anyone to say something.

“Is this the d&d club?” You finally spoke.

“Y-yes,” the only boy who was standing said. You recognized him as Mark Lee. The cute, smart boy from calculus. “Yes, uh, grab a seat.”

You nodded and dragged a chair over to the only empty spot at the table. It was right next to Chenle, the loud basketball player you shared chemistry with.

“Well I’m pretty sure that we all know each other,” Mark said clearing his throat. “I’m not gonna make us do ice breakers cause literally no one likes those.”

“I do!” Haechan, the class clown that you also shared chemistry with.

“Only you,” Jeno, the star basketball player and probably the last person you expected here, commented. Haechan pouted and stuck his tongue out at Jeno.

“Anyway,” Mark said. “It’s my fist time DMing, but I have played before. Just so I know, who here has played before?”

You, along with Jisung, the quiet kid from history, Haechan, and Renjun, the kid from math who doesn’t do math but draws, raised your hands. Mark seemed to relax a bit when he saw there were at least a few experienced players.

“Well I guess this first meeting will be going over rules and how to play, then next time we’ll do character sheets,” Mark said.

———

It was now the third session and the first one of the start of you campaign. Last time, everyone made their characters, the atmosphere becoming less tense as time went on.

You made your character an Elf Wizard, something you’ve never played before. Everyone else had their own unique character combos, having fun coming up with the most ridiculous names for them.

Today, the party was slightly buzzing with excitement to finally start their campaign. You all gathered around the table giving character introductions, ready to get this show on the road.

Three hours, several rolls for initiative, and Haechan’s character almost dying later, Mr. Jung had to finally kick you all out of the building. The sun had already set and he was letting you way past what was allowed.

You realized how late it actually was and scrambled to get your stuff. You said a quick goodbye to the boys and Mr. Jung and sped off to get home before your parents killed you.

You get a ways down the hall when you heard someone running behind you.

“Y/n, wait up!” You turned to see Mark jogging to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you, breathing slightly harder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said back, smiling at the cute boy. You’ve never really had a full conversation with Mark. He’s quiet and, honestly, talking to someone attractive was a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.

“C-can I have your number?” He said. Your eyes went wide and as did his when he realized what that sounded like. “So that I can add you to the group chat! Just in case anyone can’t make it or we cancel.”

“Yea, sure,” you said, slightly disappointed. You heard Mark exhale probably in relief that his save worked. You handed him your phone with your number displayed on the screen and he quickly put it in his.

“Thanks,” Mark said, handing you back your phone. You both stood there in the most suffocatingly awkward silence ever.

“Well bye,” you said turning to leave.

“Oh! Yea, uh, bye,” Mark said waving slightly. He turned back towards Mr. Jung’s room and you saw the other six boys crowded around. They were all giggling as Mark shoved that back into the room.

———

Six sessions and three weeks later, any morsel of awkwardness was gone. It was like you have known these seven boys your whole life.

The group chat blew up your phone with memes from that days session but didn’t you mind? No. Though sometimes at ungodly hours in the mornings, you still enjoyed the content.

On this particular day, you weren’t going to be able to join the session. Your calculus teacher was making you stay after school and retake a test that you failed miserably. You felt bad when you hand to text the group.

You: I can’t make it today

Haechan☀️: whyyyyyyy

You: I failed a calc test

You: I have to retake it

Lele🐬: thats stupid

Sungie: good luck Y/n

Injunie: yea gl

You: thanks boys

Marker: hey if you need any help studying for calc, I’d be happy to

jeNO: oh?

You: yea I’d like that, thanks

Minnie: ann I oop-

You laughed at Jaemin’s comment as you made your way to your calculus teachers classroom.

———

Considering the second time you took the test you barely past by the seat of your pants, you took Mark up on his offer to tutor you.

Today was the first day Mark was going to tutor you in the library. You walked in and saw him already set up at one of the tables in the very back.

“Hey,” you whispered. He smiled at you as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he said back. “Ready to get started?”

After about an hour and a half of Mark explaining different theorems to you, you were finally starting to get it. Whenever you asked a question, Mark would take the time to explain it to you carefully, making sure you got it along the way.

When he would give you a problem to solve, and you got it right, both of you would get excited, annoying the librarian. She ended up shushing you more than once.

“Hey, you hungry?” Mark asked.

“Not really,” you said. As if on cue, your stomach slightly growled, making Mark laugh. You looked down at your stomach, a pout on your face. “Traitor.”

“Come on,” Mark said between giggles. “Let’s get something to eat.”

You got your things and headed out of the library with Mark to get food.

———

For the next three weeks, this became your tradition. On the days the D&D club wasn’t meeting, you and Mark would study calculus in the library for about two hours, and then go get food. It always felt like a lot less time with Mark, him always making it enjoyable.

Today, you had a study session with Mark. As you neared the library, you noticed him standing outside the doors on his phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“I know,” Mark said putting his phone away. “But you need a break.”

“Mark-“ you whined.

“No,” he said. “I think that you’re ready. You’ve made a lot of progress over the last couple weeks. Besides, they say you shouldn’t study the night before a test.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” you said crossing your arms.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Mark said waving it off. “But, I do know that you’ve worked hard and whatever grade you get, I’m proud of you.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up at Mark’s words. You bit back a smile as he continued.

“So tonight we are not studying,” Mark said grabbing your hand and leading you away from the library. “We are going to the basketball game with the others to cheer on Chenle and Jeno.”

You didn’t protest as Mark led you down to the packed gym and over to where the rest of the boys were sat, waiting for the game to start.

———

After the game where your boys won, the party went out for dinner. Afterwards, Mark drove you home, the two of you talking about the game, D&D, or literally anything.

When Mark pulled into your driveway, he insisted on walking you to your steps. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Hey,” Mark said when you got to your front door. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Tell me how it goes, ok?” He said. You nodded giving him a smile that he returned. “Good night.”

“Night,” you called after him as he went to his car.

———

At the end of the day, your calculus teacher had finished grading the tests. She told everyone to come pick them up before they left school.

When she handed your test to you, she had a big smile on her face. She made a comment about how nicely you did and how much you improved. When you finally saw the grade, you nearly passed out.

You practically ran to Mr. Jung’s room. D&D was today and you wanted to show Mark you grade. You arrived at his classroom, bouncing into the room.

“Well someone looks happy,” Jaemin commented.

“Did something mean happen?” Jisung asked. You stuck your tongue out at the younger boy making everyone laugh.

You made you way to Mark at the head of the table, him watching you with a smile. When you reached him, you slapped the paper with a big 90% scribbled at the top down in front of him.

“All thanks to you,” you said as he continued to stare at the paper.

“I told you so,” Mark said standing up. He caught you by surprise when he gave you a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

“Ugh, just date already,” Haechan commented from his chair. You and Mark pulled apart making a face at the boy, but avoiding each other’s eyes.

It’s not that you were entirely opposed to dating Mark. You just didn’t know if he felt the same way. And he didn’t. Right?

———

You and Mark continued your study sessions even after you proved you didn’t need to. You both agreed that it was to benefit both of you and not just an excuse to hang out.

One day, while walking out of calculus with Renjun, the boy made a comment that rocked your world.

“He likes you, ya know,” Renjun said.

“W-what,” you sputtered turning to him.

“Mark, he likes you,” He clarified. “I know like bro code, I’m not supposed to tell you or whatever, but I see the way you two look at each other. We all do. You should ask him out. He’d say yes.”

You stopped dead in your tracks thinking for a second. On one hand, this plan that you were formulating could embarrass you. On the other, you could get a date with your dungeon master / calculus tutor / crush.

“Y/n?” Renjun said turning to you. You quickly turned on your heel and made a mad dash for Mark’s locker. “Y/n!”

———

As you speed walked to Mark, you saw him in the distance talking to Jeno and Jaemin. Mark spotted you coming to him and waved at you.

“Hey, Y/n what’s-“

“Do you want to go an a date with me?” You said quickly.

“W-what?” Mark said.

“Jeno, I think that’s our cue,” Jaemin said dragging Jeno away.

“Do you want to go in a date with me?” You asked again, slower this time. Mark looked at you wide eyed, like a dear in headlights.

“A-a date?” He asked. You nodded, not trusting your voice not to shake. “Wow.”

“Wow?” You asked.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just never thought you’d ask and I’d have to do it,” Mark said. “But yes, I’d love to go on a date.”

“Oh thank god,” you said leaning against the lockers. Mark laughed at your dramatic reaction. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and turned you around to walk to lunch. As you turned, you and Mark stopped and saw the six other members of your party standing there amused.

“God, finally,” Haechan said.

“Took you long enough,” Chenle said.

As the eight of you walked to lunch, the boys continued to tease you and Mark. But when you looked up at him with his arm still around your shoulder, the teasing didn’t matter when Mark smiled at you.

———

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 1

The Meet Cute - Part 1

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris Evans at a rooftop, industry party in New York, but will your awkwardness ruin the night?

Warnings: Profanity, Sexual connotations, but overall fluff

Notes: Please check out the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part!

Expensive, rooftop kickback. Ice-cold beer in hand. Film industry tastemakers and Top 40 hits to soundtrack it all. It should be an ideal way to end one of the last few days of summer. And yet, Chris couldn’t help but feel out of sorts. He is a, rather THE, fun-loving party guy. But tonight, he just wasn’t feeling it. He was in a funk, and didn’t know the reason for it.

Could it be the fact he turned another year older a little over a month ago? No, I’m grateful for the blessing of aging.

Could it be that he didn’t care to be around the people in this party? That’s not it. Yeah it’s a bunch of industry schmucks, but Mackie and Scott are here; those are my boys! We always have a great time.

It could very well be a case of “the breakup blues”, as Scott puts it. Hardly, we didn’t even exchange ‘I love you’s’. It’s hardly a breakup if it wasn’t even love… right?

Chris shrugged to himself as he tuned back into the conversation around him. But as he got himself up to speed, he wished he hadn’t.

“So I have this friend I think you should meet, Chris. real cool girl. I’m not saying she’s the “perfect match” or that you should even go on a date, but you never know… y’all should just meet,” Anthony says in as neutral a tone he can muster. Aw shit, here we go again.

When Chris doesn’t give him a reaction, Scott too, tries to maintain some neutrality when asking, “Oh, really?? Tell us about her, why don’t you?” Jeez, these two.

“Well, she’s hella artsy, a creative type, if you will.”

Chris decides to patronize them, asking, “Yeah? What’s she do?”

“She’s a… uh… musician!” Scott answers, clearly excited by his brother’s minute show of interest, but realizes he’s shown their hand.

Chris raises an eyebrow to his younger brother. “So you know her too?”

“Yeah… I mean I don’t know her super well, but I met her recently… through Mackie.” Not a complete lie.

That’s… actually different. They’re always trying to set me up entrepreneurs who want me to throw money at their lip gloss business after the second date. Or worse, influencers, who are overly concerned with their “brand” and make me wait to eat while she takes pictures of the food so her “feed can also be fed”. Sheesh. But a musician, a fellow artist, could be different… “That’s cool, what kind of music?”

“It’s like alternative pop,” Scott answers, hoping to keep his brother’s attention in the subject.

“And that is …”

“…like, mostly pop, but it’s got a little bit of everything.”

“Right… what ever happened to ‘keeping shit simple’?” Chris states more than asks, as he takes a swig of his beer.

“You sound like an old man,” Scott quips, to which Chris playfully flips him off.

“ANYWAYS,” Anthony attempts to get the conversation back on track, “she’s also very intelligent, funny, youthful…”

“Youthful, huh? How old is she?”

“She’s… ya’know… young at heart… and on paper…”

“Bro, how old is she??”

“Twenty-- ”

“Let me stop you right there, ‘cos wow! I see how it is!” Outwardly, Chris feigns offense, but inwardly he’s just planning an escape from this conversation.

“You see me: a damn-near middle-age man; no wife, no kids, no GIRLFRIEND, and think I’m looking to “just meet” someone 10+ years younger than me? You think I’m looking to start my mid-life crisis or something? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I’m out this bitch!” Chris over-dramatically scoffs, throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. As he wanders inside away from them, he laughs to himself at their antics.

“C’mon man! We’re just looking out for you!” Anthony shouts after him.

And it’s true: He knows they mean well, but the constant hovering over and hand holding of his love life is getting to be… suffocating. Chris wants to meet someone without pressure or pretense. He wants someone real, someTHING real. But more than anything right now, he wants to be left alone about it. Huh, guess I found the reason for my funk.

——————————————————————————

Having just come from an incredible writing session, you’d somewhat forgotten you’d been invited to “schmooze” some Hollywood types. You arrive to the party well into the evening, around 10:30 pm or so. Enough time to ‘schmooze’ and get the hell out. God, I HATE ass kissing… If it were up to you, you wouldn’t be here tonight, but Anthony and Scott were persistent on getting you out.

You hadn’t bothered changing your outfit cos it was comfortable + cute + completely party ready, in your humble opinion, but the disapproving looks from a couple of bougie Bettys by the in-door bar didn’t go unnoticed. I really couldn’t care less. I just collaborated with one of my most faviorite writers EVER for Mackie’s movie!

Your name sounds off in the near distance. It’s a couple of your co-stars, Ansel and Jaden. You’d met them previously at a Vanity Fair party about a year ago. They’d each been publicly supportive of your work and you’d been *platonically* in each of their DMs, but they’re both no more than acquaintances.

Chatting to them for a bit, there’s introductions to the preexisting group, some of whom seem a little star struck, or maybe taken aback by your attire? It’s getting harder for me to read people nowadays. 

You ask them where Scott and Mackie are, seeing as the former invited you here and the latter is a good friend of yours. Ansel points you in a general direction, and you thank him before you head that way.

The indoor dining and lounge area open up to a large, open-air, rooftop patio. It’s packed with film industry folk; A-list to up-and-coming, like yourself. You’re not exactly sure what the celebration is, just that Scott & Mackie insisted that you show your face, rub eblows, but most importantly, let loose for once; seeing as you are making your break into acting this year. A much needed change of pace from your usual work.

‘Japan’ by Famous Dex is playing as you sneak up behind an unexpecting Scott. Taking him by the hips from behind, you sway to the beat with your pelvis to his backside. To your amusement, he’s visibly startled and turns around, his face changing from “WTF?!” to “OMG!!” when he sees you. You don’t stop dancing, but instead get a little more raunchy as Scott joins in with you. You share a laugh, hug and air kiss.

“Let me stop. I’m not using all my moves on you tonight!”

“That’s too bad, but maybe we can find someone for you to use them on,” he replies with a wink. You playfully roll your eyes and swat at his arm. Yeah, highly doubt it. Not what I’m here for, anyways.

"How ya doing Kid? How was the writing sesh?” Mackie asked while being a little distracted with texting. You assumed it was for work because usually Anthony was a very present individual. Not only was he in the movie, but he was a producer, and you figured he hadn’t turned that part of himself off even though he was at a party.

You started to gush about the session, the collaboration, how that one part “just came together” when… oh my fucking gawd.

“Hey Kid, I want you to meet my good friend—“

“He was my brother before he was your friend!”

“Wow, really you guys?”

Mackie finishes introducing you to Chris Evans. Chris motherfucking Evans. You wonder if he’d always been standing there or if he just walked over, because you didn’t notice him before. You shake hands, and get a little shy now, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. Chris plasters on a polite, but fake smile. Shit. He can see the fangirl in my eyes!! Get a grip sis!

“So... how do you know these two?” Chris motions left then right, from Scott to Anthony.

“Uh... um... movie.” You nod as if you’re trying to convince not only Chris, but yourself, that you just gave an adequate answer.

“What she means is that she’s a part of the movie Mackie and I are doing.”

“Oh, alright cool, cool. What do you do?”

“Well, I’m a sing--”

“SINGle actress! She’s very single, and very much an actress,” Anthony looks at you with widened eyes as he nods his head slowly, like you bumped your head and forgot what you do. What’s up with him?

“Um, yeah, I have a supporting role, which is more than enough for my intro to the silver screen.”

“Your first movie? Congrats! You’re in good hands with these guys on set with you. Just remember--”

“Stay away from bananas?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. Wow. No one makes a move in the awkward air you set. You just made a reference to his somewhat embarrassing-- yet very comical-- film debut. You dummy!

“I’m so sor—”

“No. No, no don’t. It’s, uh... fine,” he says, half laughing. You all return to awkward silence, with Chris looking off into the distance, pretending to wave at someone so he can plan an escape for the second time tonight. You’re too busy studying the ground and mentally kicking yourself for your stupidity to notice Scott and Anthony, panicked looks on their faces and gesturing to the other to “do something” to save this train wreck of a conversation. Anthony decides to break the silence.

“Yo Kid, Lemme see your hand.”

“My hand? Why?”

“Just let me see it!” 

Your hand is guided to Chris’ clothed, taut pec by Anthony.

“Feel that? Good stuff, right? Soft to the touch, yet strong and dependable. But most importantly, makes ya feel real good in bed.” No he didn’t just say that!!

Chris mouths a ‘wow’ with raised brows, and you cautiously take back your hand, slightly bewildered *but not really* by Anthony’s boldness. Anthony still holds on to your hand lightly.

“What man? It’s Egyptian cotton! I don’t mean to embarrass ya!”

“Somehow, I think you do,” Chris chuckles while he takes a swig of his beer, eyeing you tentatively. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him, and just fix your eyes straight ahead. I’m literally staring at a wall... of muscle.

“Look, let me see your hand.”

“Hey, hey! He ain’t stroking my chest; it is NOT that kind of party… gotta at least take me to dinner first.” You whisper the last part, but Chris still catches it and laughs at your quip. The tension in your shoulders eases up some, but only a little, not trusting yourself to get too comfortable.

“Just trust me!” Anthony whines at you.

“Last time I “just trusted you” Mackie, I ended up fleeing a pack of angry ducks… I still have the scar!”

“Wait, wha—“

Mackie brought yours and Chris’ hands together for his large hand to hold your smaller one, and there was… electricity?

“Isn’t that the softest hand you ever felt? What do you use?”

“Uh… Shea butter.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it! Oh won’t you look at that. Her ring finger is naked, hm… and look at how good she looks in white!” Nope, just more awkwardness.

You share an embarrassed smile and glance away from each other while each of your hands gently fall back to your sides.

“Leave it to Mackie to be subtle…” Scott intervenes, “Well! Now that all the cool kids are here, why don’t you, Chris, take our lovely friend here over to the bar to get a drink so we can get this party started!”

——————————————————————————

Silence settles over you and Chris at the busy bar as you wait for the bartender to service you. It’s not necessarily awkward, but definitely not comfortable. You take this moment to breathe in the New York air to soothe your nerves, while also starkly avoiding eye contact with the handsome devil to your left. But after a while, you decide to take the lead with small talk.

“Hey... I am SUPER sorry about my ‘banana’ joke earlier. I didn’t mean to--”

“Stop. It’s fine, really. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You exhale a little at his words, relieved you didn't offend him. “I’m the one who should say ‘sorry’... I normally laugh at jokes about myself.”

“Then why didn’t you? You left me hanging out there!” He chuckles a bit as he sips his beer. Now it’s his turn to exhale.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Ok, that’s, uh… cool.” Chris side glances at you, finding your nervous energy amusing... and endearing. He decides to mess with you a little.

“So, how long have you been acting?”

“Oh, uh... not that long. I’ve done a few things here and there, but this is my first serious role.”

“Ok. And how long have you been single?” Realizing how that might’ve sounded suggestive, he attempts to backtrack. “I didn’t mean like-- just Mackie made mention-- I wasn’t like-- ‘s just trying to mess with you a little...” Well THAT backfired.

You couldn’t help but giggle at seeing him flustered. “I guess it’s my turn to say, ‘It’s fine’?” to this, Chris is visably relieved. “Yeah, I would also apologize for Mackie’s behavior, but you’ve known him longer than I have, so I’ll let you claim him when he acts like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a meddling… muffdiver…?” you couldn’t think of anything good, but Chris laughs heartily at this. You can’t help but admire his strong, manly features as they melt into something reminiscent of a child. Head thrown back, clutching his chest, boisterous laughter booming from him. You can’t help but join him in laughing at your lame joke.

“So does this mean I owe you an apology?” He leans on the bar, looking every bit the yacht daddy and gives you a sly smirk. Is he… flirting?

“I guess so. I’m waiting…” you say, tapping your imaginary watch and a sly smirk of your own. Am I flirting??

“Well, tough luck… ‘Kid’. You’ll be waiting forever. I’m not apologizing for shit Mackie does cos he’s my amazing friend who I’ll always ‘claim’ and love unconditionally… even if he acts like a ‘meddling muffdiver’.”

“First of all: aww! That was very bromantic of you.” Chris chuckles at your unique term, making a mental note to use it sometime. It’s cute. Like her smile…

“And Secondly?”

“Secondly… I’ve only begrudgingly given Mackie permission to call me ‘Kid’.”

“Why’s that?”

“I guess… Cos he’s like an uncle to me, and you gotta let him have some things,” you laugh to yourself thinking of your relationship with Anthony.

“But don’t let the nickname fool ya!” You continued, “I’m a grown ass woman, at a grown ass party, ready to have some fun, and shake my grown ass… “

“Ass?” You both pause for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s great to laugh with someone like this…

“I’ll admit: I didn’t think about where that line of ranting would land.” You both take a brief moment to take each other in. Looking at him while he’s looking at you starts to make your face feel hot, so you break the silence.

“So… what are we celebrating tonight? I’m kinda new to this scene,”

“You know what, I don’t even know what. I was invited by a few different people, each with their own reasons for coming. So, anything really. ”

You’re finally served your drinks and make the short walk back over to Anthony and Scott. When you reached them you raised your glass to signal you were making a toast.

“Well, here’s to good health, good company, endless creativity, and, and…”

“Grown-ass asses!” Chris finishes for you.

“Amen! Salud!” You all clinked drinks, but Mackie and Scott were confused by the last bit.

“You had to be there,” Chris answered with a wink in your direction when they inquired. You blushed slightly, never more thankful for your melanin to cover it up.

Mackie and Scott looked between you and Chris, confusion etched on their faces, as you’d only been alone for all of 5 minutes. They resolved into knowing, satisfied looks between each other.

This goes unnoticed by you and Chris. The pair of you start talking about the movie that you’re starting next month with his brother and friend.

This turns into talking about how you met them, more laughter, some refilled drinks, more conversation, then light touches to arms and hands. The touches were unintentional, but welcomed by both of you, leading to lots of coy smiles and lingering looks. Tonight might not be so bad after all…

Part 2

[herohotline]

Wet Clay (P.1)

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

A/N: alright let's try this again. take 2 everybody

Summary: You’ve been officially hired as U.A’s first school counselor. You’re assigned to help the hero course- learning more about their students and teachers along the way. And if you manage to catch a crush on one of said teachers... You just hope he doesn’t distract you from doing your job.

Word Count: 3,300+

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

If there was one thing you knew about U.A, it was that the school seemed like a never-ending magnet for trouble. They’ve already been on the news twice this year due to villain attacks, and it made you wonder: hey, who’s taking care of the aftermath? 

You’ve been working as a freelance therapist for over ten years, and you reached into several things. Family sessions, PTSD recovery, addiction therapy, the works. So with high hopes, you came to U.A one day with a proposal for the principal. Getting a meeting with him wasn’t easy, so you intended to use the time you got with him wisely. 

Your meeting was scheduled at a random time of day- the middle of the school day, really, so when you made your way to Nezu’s office, you saw several students. They seemed like busy little bees, rushing over to the cafeteria with smiles- it must be lunch hour. The whole place was insanely big, and you wouldn’t have been able to navigate it on your own- so good thing you weren’t. 

Your tour guide sure was loud, though.

“It’s great that Nezu let someone in, but he wouldn’t tell us what it’s for!” The hero you recognized as Present Mic had been chatting animatedly the whole time, and you tried your best to keep up with his energy. 

“That’s strange,” you say back to him, adjusting the grip on your briefcase. They checked it at the front gate- happy to see it was only a few business papers. “I don’t think what I’m talking to Nezu about is very secretive.”

Present Mic waves his hand in the air, making a ‘ppsh’ noise with his teeth. “Nezu likes to mess around with us teachers a lot. I’m not surprised! Oh, and here we are!” He spins rather suddenly to face you, presenting the large office doors to you. 

You look at it curiously. “...Isn’t Nezu supposed to be a small animal?” How could he fit through the door…?

Mic laughs as if you had made some sort of joke. He opens the door for you, patting your back as you walk inside. “I’ll be here to escort you out when you’re done, good luck!” He whispers- well, his own way of whispering, which is still very loud, before thrusting you in the office and closing the door behind you. 

You blink once to try and realize what just happened.

“Ah, ___!” Nezu greets you as you stand still in the rather large office, his little body looking comical behind his desk. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting with you!” Oh boy, here we go. You don’t really appreciate Mic thrusting you into this, literally, but you smooth out your clothes and walk toward the principal’s desk.

“I feel the same way, Nezu,” you smile at him as you shake his little paw across the desk. “I’m glad you’re willing to listen to what I have to say.” He gestures to the seat beside you and you gladly take it, making yourself comfortable.

“Of course. It’s been chaotic but I’m always willing to hear ideas for the school. You mentioned therapy?” The business has begun- but oddly enough, the animal pulls out a tea set and begins to brew. 

“Simply put, yes. With all the events that have been happening at your school lately, I believe it’s due time for a therapist to be hired. You’re training heroes, and while it’s important that they’re physically ready for the world of heroics, I believe they should be mentally ready as well.” You take a cup from him, muttering a ‘thank you’ as you continue to give him your proposal. “Just this year, you had a kidnapping. I know you took care of it, but those sorts of things have a large impact on kids- they might be teenagers, but they aren’t fully developed. Then there’s just the thought of studying and working to be a hero- it’s stressful, and I believe every child should have a good outlet for when it gets to be too much.” 

Taking a sip of the tea, you hum under your breath. It’s a wonderful citrus flavor.

Nezu smiles. “I looked into you- I hope you aren’t offended, it’s merely what we must do for letting strangers into the campus. You’re a therapist, correct?”

You nod. “I’m not offended, I figured as much. And yes, I am. I’ve been in the field for over 10 years, so I’d like to think I know what I’m talking about when it comes to mental health.” 

“Of course! I don’t doubt you!” Nezu laughs- a squeaky little noise. “You’re right, the students deserve a good person to talk to about their struggles. The question is… are you sure you can be that person?”

So he had caught onto you. Yes, more than anything, you wanted to be the one to help these kids. It’s a bit ballsy to walk into an office and suggest they hire you, unprompted, but you believe it’s the right move to make. Nothing will get done if you don’t put the first foot in, after all.

“Yes,” you tell him, as determined as you can. “I would like to be the test driver in this. With how many students U.A holds, one therapist for so many kids is nearly impossible. I’d die of stress before they do,” you pull your briefcase up to your lap and open it, handing him a few papers. “These are the things I’ve planned if you were willing to go through with hiring me. I’d like to focus on the hero course first, a few sessions with each kid throughout a few months. I want to learn about these children, and from what I learn, I can fully deduce what sort of changes need to happen in U.A. Like if my work is even needed here, or what type of therapy should be offered or special programs.” 

Nezu flicks through your papers with an impressed smile. “You’ve thought a lot about this,” he says, “you seem to care very deeply.” 

“I’m passionate about helping others how I can,” you tell him honestly. “And frankly, if you don’t mind my honesty, U.A is long overdue for a school counselor. Every child deserves to have someone to confide in, plain and simple, Nezu.”

At your statement, he laughs. It’s not because he thinks you’re joking, but he knows you’re right. “I love your attitude!” He says. “And you’ve convinced me. We’ll start our hiring process right away, and you can show me more of your plans. I’m happy you came to me today.”

“Oh, what?” Your eyebrows stand up in shock. “Really? Wh… really?”

“Yes!” Nezu smiles. “I had already decided on hiring you before you came. But meeting you was a pleasure and convinced me more.” He hands out his small paw again and you slowly shake it.

“Welcome to U.A, ___.”

---

Getting home, you looked back at the meeting and for a second you think you were tricked. But you’re soon emailed several background check forms and sessions for drug testing- the works of getting hired at a very cautious school. So you deduce that it’s not a trick- but it’s very strange. 

You’re grateful though, and you accomplish what you can right away such as the background check, quirk information and license, and sending in your history with therapy. Nezu told you that if you were quick, you could have your first day in just a week. It shocks you- a week? It’s so soon!

Maybe, you think, they’ve already been thinking about hiring a counselor for a while. It was long overdue, and now they’re in a rush to get you in and working. You suppose that with everything that’s been going on for the school, that’s fair. 

You hope you can do this- the last thing you want is to let this opportunity slip through the cracks and let everyone down. 

---

After a full week of filling out paperwork, various meetings, and a lot of movement speeches that you’ve given yourself to get through it, your first day at U.A comes, bright and early on a Monday morning. And, interestingly enough, your first big task of the day is getting dressed. 

The students have uniforms, but the teachers all wear their hero costumes, and you’re not a hero. So what on earth do you wear? You glare at your closet for a long time before finally slipping on a simple button-up shirt tucked into some slacks. It’s the most professional-casual you can get, right?

Taking the train to U.A was a bit busy, but you were buzzing with first-day energy that you couldn’t even mind the pushing and shoving of people coming on and off the train. You’re sure that the longer you have to take the train, the more it will bother you, but today it seems like nothing can break through your hopeful exterior. 

God, you hope this works. You hope the kids like you. 

It feels funny to walk into U.A with no guards hounding you- but thanks to your I.D that you got just yesterday, you walk in without any problems. It makes you grin. Your first stop for the day is to find Eraserhead- you’re meeting with his class first and taking over homeroom for today. Tomorrow, you’ll meet with the other hero course. 

When you walk into the teacher's lounge, nerves are tingling your senses. It feels like it really is the first day of school, but instead of a student, now you’re a teacher, sort of. The room looks empty, so you assume the teachers have all gone to their classes for the day. You wonder where Eraserhead is…? 

It’s as you walk around the desks in a curious manner that a yellow bag on the floor catches your eye. Quite frankly, you do a double-take on it-- is someone sleeping in there?

“Hello?” You walk up to the bag. “Is that you, Eraserhead?” 

You remember Nezu joking about something like this, but you didn’t take him seriously. As the sleeping bag rolls around, your eyes widen in surprise as you see that yes- this is Pro-Hero Eraserhead sleeping on the floor. 

His tired, dry eyes look up at you. “You’re the therapist?” He asked, his voice deep and scratchy. 

“...Yes. ____.” It’s all you can manage to say as you watch him slowly crawl out of his bag, picking it up and standing on his feet. All of a sudden, he’s looming over you with his height and it almost catches you off guard. “Thank you for working with me,” you shake yourself out of your thoughts and present your hand to him. 

As he shakes it back, you notice that his hand basically engulfs yours. Woof. 

“I’m glad you’ll be working with the students,” he says, and his honesty throws you for a loop as he begins to walk off, you following him from behind. “Do you mind telling me what you have in store for the day?”

“Right!” You try to walk a little faster so you can walk side-by-side with the man, his legs quite longer than yours. “I figured I'd like to introduce myself, let the kids get to know me. It’s hard to suddenly have a new face around, as well as being expected to talk about your problems with a stranger. So I just need to not be a stranger anymore.” You look up to Eraserhead and he silently nods. You figure that’s his way of telling you ‘good idea’? 

“We’re here.” He stops in front of, again, another rather large door. They all seem to look like this. “Get ready.”

As the door opens, you’re immediately met with the sound of teenagers laughing and yelling. Eraserhead heads in first, thankfully, and you peek your head in to get a look of the students. You’ve seen a lot of them through the news, so some faces are familiar, while others aren’t. 

“Class,” Eraserhead’s authoritative voice cuts through all the noise. The students are quick to sit in their seats, heads up and attentive for their teacher. He sighs, his shoulders sagging in a tired manner. “Today, ____ will be taking over the class,” you take that as your cue to enter the room, standing next to Eraserhead silently. “I’ll still be here, so don’t disrespect them. Listen to them, take what they have to say seriously.”

That seems to be the end of his little speech as he shuffles away in that same sleeping bag you found him in. You step up to the podium, and your nerves are back as you look at the sea of students. Oh boy. 

“Hello, everyone,” you smile. “As Eraserhead mentioned, my name is ___. There’s no need for formalities with me, you can just call me by name. My job here at U.A is to be your school counselor.” You watch as several of their faces change and you laugh a little. “I know, it’s strange. I’m here today to ask you a few questions. My first question being, how many of you are comfortable talking with a stranger?” 

None of their hands raise beside a rather sparkly boy with blonde hair. 

“I appreciate your honesty!” You gesture for him to put his hand down and he does so. “Most of you aren’t going to come to me right away with struggles you may have, and I understand that. My job today is to have you all get to know me. We’ll be doing a few activities, and by the end of home-room, you’ll go back to your regular classes. Are there any questions?” 

A hand shoots up right away, and you nod your head to the girl it’s attached to. She looks very attentive and scholarly- you have a feeling she might be a class president or something like that. “Why has the school decided to hire a counselor?” 

“That’s a good question. What’s your name?” You ask. 

“Yaoyorozu Momo.”

“Thank you for asking, Yaoyorozu. Truthfully, with all the events that’s been going on in your district, the school believes we should be more attentive to our students' mental wellbeing.” You feel like you’ve gone over this pitch thousands of times… “It’s important that you all have an outlet when you’re stressed or upset.” 

Yaoyorozu seems satisfied with your answer as she nods, her hand going back in her lap. Another hand rises after that- not as confident as Yaoyorozu, but still there. 

“Yes?”

“I was wondering- my, uh, name is Midoriya Izuku! I was wondering what we’d talk about in your office?” The boy has wonderful green hair that curls at the ends, freckles on his cheeks that make him look innocent and cute. He’s somewhat nervous, which intrigues you, but you move on to his question. 

“Yes, in my office…”

The rest of the period goes like this. You eventually get a question out of almost every student, and they seem to be warming up to you already. You’ve learned most of their names- but you’ll probably need a few days until you remember them all. After the questions, you do a few games together that you thought up- things that typically would be done in middle school. You split up the classroom as you have them learn more about each other- things like ‘go to the left side if you’d rather lose your taste, go to the right if you’d lose your smell’. They were simple activities that the students seemed to mostly enjoy, and you participated in them as well. 

At one moment, you asked a very specific question on purpose: how do you feel about your quirk? If you like it, you would go to the right side of the room. If you dislike it, you’d go to the left. If you weren’t sure how you felt, you’d sit in the middle. In the end, only you and boy with white and red hair stand in the middle as the rest of the class sits on the right. 

“What is your quirk?” He asks you and you smile down at him. Everyone turns their attention toward you, clearly interested. 

“My quirk is called Sensory. If I use it right, I can heighten my own or someone else’s senses such as their hearing or sight. But if I use it wrong, the person goes into sensory overload.” You explain it as simple as you can, and a pink hand raises in the air. You can’t quite remember her name… 

“Why don’t you like your quirk?” 

“Well, I don’t dislike it,” you quickly reassure the class, “but I have my reasons, as I’m sure Todoroki has his own as well?” You look down at him and he nods silently. “Anyway, I asked this question so that you all would get to know who I am a little better. Quirks are a great way to express yourself, but it’s important to remember that it isn’t the only way. It’s okay to not feel completely at home with your Quirk, but it’s important to understand it and accept it as a part of you.” 

After the activity ends, the period is over and it’s time for you to go down to your office. Eraserhead offers to walk you there since you’re still new to the building and you gratefully take it. The two of you leave the classroom with a stern word from the teacher for his students to wait patiently for Present Mic to arrive ‘or else’. You have a feeling that there's no real threat behind his words, but it seems to work. 

“So,” you fill the silence in the hallway, “do you think it went well, Eraserhead? You know them best.” You look up at him and the hero reaches up to run his fingers through his hair. He’s not quite looking at you, but you know he’s paying attention. 

“You don’t have to call us by our hero names,” he huffs and his hands go back into his pockets. 

“Oh! Well… To be honest, the forms Nezu gave me never mentioned any of the teacher’s names, so I don’t actually know…” 

“Typical of him,” the man rolls his eyes, his lips tugging upward just a bit at the ends. “You can call me Aizawa,” all of a sudden you both come to a stop and you realize that you’re outside of your office on the first floor. “Mic is Yamada and Midnight is Kayama… I’m sure you know who Yagi is.” You nod. “You’ll learn the rest of their names along the way. The 1-B teacher is Kan, by the way.”

“Oh, good! Thank you, Aizawa,” you smile up at him. “And thank you for walking me back.”

“You’ll get used to it in a bit,” he sounds sure of himself, making you believe him. “And… you did fine with the kids. I can think of a few who might come over by the end of the week.”

His reassurance is honestly very touching, as you weren’t really sure of yourself. 

“I hope I have at least a week, my office is kind of baren right now,” you laugh at yourself a little. “And thank you- it’s good to hear. I really hope this goes well, you know? I think I can really help them- I want to help them.”

Aizawa just stares down at you but you’re honestly getting used to his silence. You can already tell that he’s a man of few words, so you’re grateful that he’s talked to you as much as he has. You laugh again- you’re not sure why- before opening your door and waving goodbye to him. He leaves after that, and now it’s just you alone in your office.

You sigh as you look around the room. It’s got the essentials- two chairs, a couch, and a table in the middle. Then there’s a desk in the corner of the room, but other than that, it’s empty. You’ll definitely have to fill up the area to make it seem more welcoming- maybe you can bring some things over from your apartment. 

All you know is that you’re determined. By the end of the week, you’re going to make this place feel like home.