#which defeats the point of teaching math in the first place

[void-magician]

Why is math hard it hurt my stupid brain.

But on a more serious note, is there a way to make formulaic math easier to understand? When applied to real world subjects I'm actually able to figure out what is being asked of me but as soon as it's bare formulas and strings of numbers my brain just drops out and refuses to understand

i don't think your brain is stupid, i just think math is taught in a way that seems altogether unintuitive - that being said i have some strategies that might be able to help

since you're able to reason things out when the math is applied to real-world subjects, try to find a way to apply the formulaic math you're struggling with to a real-world solution. frequently, i've found that with the students i tutor, connecting the subject matter at hand to something they're already interested in helps bridge that gap from theory to understanding.

in a similar vein, if the formulas themselves are evading you, try figuring out where the formulas come from or how they're derived. see if you can understand why certain formulas are built the way that they are, and that might help build some of those processing thought patterns you'll need to be more successful at math.

[brightbertalt]

just please teach me

michael gavey x bimbo!reader

authors note - i can’t resist this man…..he’s so nerdy and hot. also meant for female!reader

warnings - dumbification, kinda mean michael, a little praise, degradation, perv!michael, the word slut, breeding kink, accidental breeding?

god michael couldn’t wait for this.

it was your first tutoring session with him. after your failed your first math test of the semester, you decided to get some help from the smartest man you knew, who also happened to sit next to you.

“hey, you’re like super smart right?”

you asked him, peeking over at the 100% on his test. he turned his head, internally surprised you were even talking to him.

“uh, yeah. yeah i am. do you need help?”

you nodded, pouting and practically shoving your test in his face.

“i can’t even believe it! i got a 53% on this test, it was like, super hard!”

you complained, crossing your arms; which just so happened to push up your breasts. they looked so good in that tight tank top you were wearing.

“you’re asking me to tutor you?”

you scoffed out of frustration.

“duh! i don’t wanna fail!”

he was going to be your tutor. it sounded like music to his ears. michael gavey was going to be personally teaching the cutest girl he knew.

and annoying.

you yourself weren’t annoying, but the fact that someone like you, who probably didn’t even know which direction an x axis pointed, could get into oxford university. probably on a huge helping of daddy’s money is what he thought. unlike him, who actually earned his place. nonetheless, he would tutor you.

he could have some fun with that.

he saw this situation in porn all the time. dumb schoolgirl goes to someone like himself to get help, and they end up fucking like rabbits. he didn’t have any experience with women in person, but he figured porn was close enough to the real thing, right?

he wondered how sweet your voice would sound begging for him.

“sooooo, does my place sound good? i have such a cute setup it’s like, unbelievable! and im free around 6 tonight.”

“yeah, of course. i guess ill be over then..!”

he knocked on your door, trying to stop his hands from shaking. he adjusted his glasses, waiting for you to open the door.

“mikey! you’re here!”

you opened the door and hugged him. he tried not to audibly moan from the sensation of your boobs pushing against him.

“just michael is fine!”

he blurted out, nervous that you were this close to him. would he even be able to survive this night?

“i dont have any extra chairs, so we can just study on my bed! how’s that?”

you asked, walking in your dorm and sitting on your bed.

he wouldn’t be able to survive. you said that so innocently, as if you didn’t understand what two people could do on a bed. as he walked over to your bed, he didn’t expect anything different. it was adorned with pink pillows and a huge fuzzy pink blanket. it was so you.

“the thing I wasn’t really understanding was number seven. i don’t even know where to start!”

he nodded, grabbing his supplies out of his bag. how could she not understand this one? it was the easiest by far. nonetheless, he explained it in the most basic way he could. you nodded, pretending to understand.

“okay, now you try.”

you smiled dumbly, attempting to try it on your own. you stopped shortly thereafter, flipping the pencil in your hand.

“i just don’t get it michael! maybe math just isn’t for me..”

you leaned in closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. you felt defeated. defeated by some numbers on a page. he sighed in annoyance. he did like this feeling, but he didn’t like your dumb little brain. maybe he could take advantage of that. he only dreamed of that, though. tricking you into pleasing him. giving you a ‘reward’ for finally get 100% on your tests. you’d probably love that too.

“ill probably drop math. its too hard! i dont know how you do it. you’re so smart michael.”

“well you’re not even trying are you? you just have to think, y/n!”

“i am so trying!”

you loosely hugged michael. he could feel himself starting to get hard. why’d you have to be so handsy with him?

“thanks for helping me though! you’re so smart michael.”

he felt himself twitch in his pants. he couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t take the teasing anymore.

you felt his lips press against your own soft, glossed lips. he pulled away quickly, already preparing for the worst. you would push him off your bed, throw his bag at him and yell at him to leave. instead, you grabbed his sleeve.

“please don’t leave mikey.”

how could he refuse you?

he moved closer to you, going in for another kiss. you were an aphrodisiac. so irresistible. made for him to fuck.

you shook your head, kissing all over his face.

“it’s totally fine, please just stay here.”

he gently pushed you down onto the bed, kissing and sucking on your neck. fuck, you were so nice. your skin was so soft and plush, and your voice sent him into a spiral.

“is this your first time mikey?”

“y-yeah. i know you probably think that’s pathetic or weird or-“

“mikey. please just fuck me. i don’t care.”

those were the sweetest words he ever heard. he could cum right then and there.

“god, fuck, can i ask you something?”

he asked.

“are you on birth control?”

you shook your head. fuck, for some reason that was even hotter.

“ill pull out, don’t worry.”

you nodded, noticeably absentminded. you were so dumb, and it was so cute to him. he was known around campus for his smarts and talent in math. and now he had, which was quite possibly, the dumbest girl at his university under his thumb. it felt so good.

“i trust you mikey.”

he smirked as he pressed continuous kisses into your neck and chest, experimentally pushing his hands underneath your cute tank top and groping your breasts. you whined underneath him, taking your top and yanking it over your head to expose your chest.

“you’re so cute. just let me take care of you, okay?”

he licked and sucked on your chest, trailing his way down your body until he got to your little cute shorts. god this boy was a freak. you helped him get your shorts off of you, exposing your bare cunt to him. you squeezed your legs together, a feeble attempt in covering yourself.

“why be shy now? you already teased me for half the semester.”

you nodded at his remark, leaning your head back. he teased, kissing up your thighs. michael’s smirk was criminal as he placed a gentle kiss on your pussy. you bucked your hips and moaned on him. he gently prodded your entrance with his long fingers, slowly inserting two of them inside you. he chuckled as he moved his fingers in and out.

“mikey i-“

“you’re what? wet as a bloody fountain? because you are.”

you let out a pornstar-esque moan and feebly grabbed in his direction. you needed him inside you.

“mikey please just fuck me! please!”

you shouted out, rocking your hips into his fingers gently. he grinned and stood up to take off his pants, as well as unzipping his coat.

“i don’t get it.”

you said bluntly, looking up at him.

“what?”

“your shirt. I don’t get it.”

you pointed to his shirt.

‘not all math puns are awful. just sum.’

you shared a moment of brief awkwardness.

“it’s like how the result of an addition-“

“i didn’t ask for more math! just come over here michael!”

he quickly nodded and took off his stupid shirt, leaving it on the floor next to the bed. he climbed over you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“are you sure?”

“please just do it already mikey!”

you whined. he always knew you were bratty. he would love to put you in your place though. he slid himself into you, gasping at the warmth and tightness of your pussy. he slowly slid all the way in, swearing under his breath as he did. you were definitely made for him. so warm, so soft, so perfect. he placed a hand on your lower stomach, feeling himself inside you.

“you’re so warm holy fuck, I can’t believe im inside you right now.”

he blurted out, slowly starting to move. michael was definitely a little above average. so goes the trope of nerdy white guys. the largeness of him made you feel so full, so stuffed. you couldn’t handle it already. tears pricked at your eyes as you slung your legs onto his shoulders. michael wasted no time fucking himself into you, letting out all sorts of lewd noises.

“can’t believe im the one doing this. always thought you’d be with someone like felix, fuck.”

he grabbed at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. another loud, indecent moan was let out of you.

“im the one fucking you, no one else gets to have this dumb little cunt.”

he tilted his head up, overwhelmed with pleasure.

“im all yours mikey, please just keep fucking me!”

you cried, grabbing onto his hands on your hips. he grabbed your right hand with his left, pressing it right next to your head. his face was right next to yours as well now.

“nothing in that stupid head, huh? nothin’ but me fucking you right now. i always knew you were so simple.”

you clenched around him, leaving him to chuckle under his breath.

“you like that? me calling you dumb? knew you were a slut.”

michael’s smartass attitude definitely never left him. you shook your head unconvincingly. you did like it, but being a brat was so fun.

“i know you like it. you already feel like you’re gonna cum on me. poor little thing. probably forget everything you learned this semester just from this.”

he said with fake sympathy. it was true, you were close. you could feel his thrusts getting more erratic and needy, so you knew he was too. you just remembered you were supposed to have a math lesson today. oh well. you could always just google the answers.

“I don’t think im gonna be able to pull out, you’re so fucking warm and tight I can’t-“

you immediately came to your senses. you were admittedly dumb, but not dumb enough to let michael cum in you.

“michael please pull out-“

“i- fuck!”

he abruptly came inside you, his jaw slack as he aggressively rammed his hips into yours a few more times. the sensation of his filling you up was too much, and your orgasm shortly followed. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.

“im so sorry y/n, you just-“

“ill figure it out mikey, just hold me.”

and he did. he laid on his side as he traced his thumb on your belly. you fell asleep soon thereafter, together.

[icyharrington]

would there be any way for you to write a scenario where //plus size reader// is tutoring eddie in algebra and he asks you what you want out of it, so you ask him to tutor you in giving blowjobs because you’ve never done it and he’s taken aback,,, nsfw, lots of praise, gentle eddie pls 🥺💛

haiii okay so! i have another plus size request in my inbox rn so i decided to just make this one for anybody! so yea im sorry about that also eddie's a SMIDDGEEEE rough in this (not super rough tho, like just a tiny bit of hair pulling and pushing ur head down to deepthroat) cuz i forgot that you asked for gentle eddie but he's still pretty soft in this. so yea this took me ridiculously long to write for no reason so i hope y'all like it lmfaooo

contains: blowjobs, deepthroating, inexperienced reader, praise kink, soft dom eddie, dirty talk, hair pulling

wc: 3.3k

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see the point in any of this,” Eddie says, after a several-minute-long period of silent staring at the math textbook that sits in between you. You’re sitting on the cluttered carpeting of his bedroom, with both of your backs propped up against the side of his bed. “Where the hell are all these letters coming from? It’s like they’re purposely trying to make this as confusing as possible.”

You shake your head, leaning over to take a closer look at the text. “The letters are just placeholders for other numbers. You have to solve the equation to find out what they are.” 

“What am I, Sherlock Holmes?!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in an exaggerated show of defeat. Eddie’s a smart guy, but math is certainly not one of his strong suits, which is why you’re here in the first place to tutor him. You’re not exactly a math genius yourself, but you’ve been managing to pull B’s and A’s all semester in algebra, and with Eddie assigned to the seat right next to yours, it didn’t take very long for him to catch on. 

He’d started out copying your answers during tests, attempting to come off as inconspicuous despite him breathing down your neck to get a glimpse at your work. When you finally called him out for it, he’d been apologetic and somewhat embarrassed, which made you feel sorry for him; wanting to help, it was then that you offered to give him a few free tutoring sessions. 

Eddie brings his knees up and settles his elbows against them, the heels of his palms pressing into his forehead in exasperation. “Honestly, (y/n), thank you for offering to tutor me, but I think I’m a lost cause.” 

“You’re not a lost cause, Eddie. You just need to study more,” you say, reaching out to place a hand on his denim-clad shoulder. “I bet if we do a couple more sessions you’ll be able to land a C on next week’s test.” 

Eddie peeks at you from between his hands, the yellow overhead light reflecting brightly in the dark roundness of his eyes. “No way. You’re not giving me any more free tutoring sessions.” 

“I don’t mind helping you, Eddie,” you say, patting him where your hand still lays. And it’s true- while he might be difficult to teach, he’s still a good-natured, funny guy, and you’ve grown to enjoy his company. In fact, you’ve even began to detect the faintest hint of a crush in the pit of your stomach, having been charmed by his smile and laugh and general mischievous demeanor. With Eddie being Eddie, though, it’s almost impossible to tell if he feels the same way, since he’s always putting on a show, never allowing his true emotions to show through his theatrical exterior. “I like hanging out with you.”

“Really? I kind of just assumed you found me annoying,” he grins, dropping his large hands to settle them atop his slender thighs. “But still- I’m not going to milk your generosity any more than I already have. I might be poor, but I’m not a fuckin’ bum.” 

“Well, maybe you can just do me a favor or something?” You scratch your chin pensively, racking your brain for something you could ask Eddie to do for you. What could a guy like Eddie Munson do for you, anyway? 

“What kind of a favor?” Eddie questions, apparently just as perplexed as you are, his head cocking to one side. “Man, I wish there was something I could tutor you in, but, uh, I’m kind of failing most of my classes.” 

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, his statement jumping out to you for a reason you’re unsure of. You glance at Eddie’s sheepish face as he tucks a strand of dark hair behind one ear, drumming the fingers of his opposite hand against his thigh; you can’t help but find him ridiculously handsome when he’s like this, all shy and indecisive, and you ignore the sudden urge to lean in and kiss him. 

You try to imagine how Eddie would react if you were to make a pass at him; you’re fairly inexperienced, so you haven’t gotten much practice in the department of flirting, which makes you worry you might say something idiotic if you try. 

Licking your lips, you shrug noncommittally, praying that your face doesn’t reveal your current topic of thought. “Maybe you could tutor me in something, like, not school-related.”

“Such as?” Eddie surveys you with his big eyes, blinking rapidly to communicate his impatience with you. “Listen, (y/n). I’m really not good enough at anything to be a tutor.”

Shifting, you toy with an idea that’s begun to form in the back of your mind, inflicting a sudden sense of urgency in your gut. It’s risky, but so tempting, with him this close to you. 

“There’s still things that you know more about than I do,” you start, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater as a means of avoiding his eyes. You’re easing your way in now, testing the waters, and holy fuck, are you scared. “Y’know, like music, dungeons and dragons… and other stuff.”

“What other stuff?” Eddie says skeptically, crossing his tattooed arms across the front of his beloved Hellfire tee. “Those are the only two things I even do. I’m a simple guy.” 

“Well…” you mutter, hugging your legs closely to your chest in an act of self-soothing. You’re running purely on adrenaline now, numb to the doubtful thoughts that nag at you incessantly. “Do you remember yesterday, when we were talking about that rumor that went around about you?”

He furrows his brows, obviously caught off guard by your seemingly random change in subject. “The one about Cheryl giving me a blowjob in the prop closet? I already told you, (y/n), that wasn’t a rumor.” 

Cheryl is Eddie’s acquaintance from his times working backstage for the school plays, and the thought of her flirting with Eddie with her high-pitched voice and bleach-blond hair makes you want to throw up. You hadn’t known she was the type to give blowjobs, and at school, no less; the information had been enough to make your head spin- was everybody at Hawkins getting more action than you?

“I know,” you say slowly, stretching your legs out to recline in front of you. “That’s the ‘other stuff’ I’m talking about. You actually have a sex life, I don’t.” 

Eddie chuckles, looping his fingers into one of the frayed tears on the front of his jeans. “I’m not, like, a sex god or anything like that. I’ve just fooled around a few times, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, but at least you have an idea of what you’re doing.” There’s a gnawing anxiety creeping up within you, and you want to smack Eddie over the head just for being so damn clueless. Peering at him from underneath a veil of dark-painted lashes, you can see the confusion in his face, but to your relief, he doesn’t seem upset by your persistence- maybe this won’t end so horribly, after all. “Sometimes I just get nervous, y’know? ‘Cause what if I meet someone I want to fool around with, but I make a complete idiot out of myself because I don’t know anything?” 

Eddie lifts his gaze to meet with yours, a half-smile making its way across his full lips. Fuck- is he starting to pick up what you’re putting down? You feel your heart skip a beat, palms prickling with sweat as he opens his mouth to speak. “What exactly are you asking me for right now, (y/n)? ‘Cause if I didn’t know any better…”

His words trail off, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he observes you quizzically; he’s unsure of himself, with a visible heat flooding the pale expanse of his cheeks. After a prolonged beat, you say, “maybe you could show me how to do it right? So it feels good?”

For the first time since you’ve met, Eddie Munson is speechless. His skin darkens to an even more conspicuous shade of burgundy, his arm lifting to scratch at the back of his neck, and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake. 

“Do…what right?” he asks you, though the tone of his voice tells you that he’s already well aware of what you mean. “You want me to tutor you in-“

“-blowjobs. Yeah.” You cut him off without really meaning to, but it’s not like your mind is focused on trivial things like manners at a time like this. “I mean- only if you want to, obviously.”

He stares at you blank-faced before breaking out into a wild grin, amused giggles bubbling up from the back of his throat. “You want me to repay you- by letting you give me head? Kinda sounds like more of a benefit for me than you, hon.” 

“Just ‘cause it benefits you doesn’t mean it won’t benefit me, too.” You subtly inch your way closer to Eddie until your hips are side-by-side, encouraged to continue when he doesn’t back away. “I wanna know what it’s like.”

“You sure you’re in your right mind right now?” Eddie says wryly, sizing you up, adorning you with goosebumps at the invisible sensation of his dark eyes dragging up and down your body. “You didn’t get into my stash or something while I was in the bathroom?” 

“I’m very much sober, Eddie,” you assure him, hesitating as you prepare to go even further, your palm finally dropping to rest on his thigh. He stirs ever-so-slightly at your touch, although he manages to keep his excitement contained for the most part. “I really do want you to teach me.”

“I don’t know how helpful I’ll actually be, but…” he gestures down at his crotch, where his erection is starting to press through the front of his pants obscenely. The view is satisfying, knowing that you’re the one responsible for it- if you’d have known it would be this easy to get Eddie Munson in the mood, you probably would’ve tried your luck with him a long time ago. “I’d definitely be willing to give it a try.”

“Really?” you say hopefully, letting your fingers trail in the direction of his hard-on until you’re toying with the front button of his jeans. “You’re sure?”

His eyes shoot down to where your hand is, your thumb and forefinger playing idly with the metal zipper. He nods rapidly, allowing you to proceed in unfastening his pants, your hands shaking as you do. “Are you sure about this? I mean, damn, you really wanna get blowjob lessons from the freak of Hawkins high?” 

You don’t respond, rolling your eyes dismissively at his frantic line of questioning; nudging his bent legs so that he stretches them before him, you start pulling his pants and boxers down to pool around his hips. Eddie lifts himself up to assist you in the task, and in a matter of seconds his thick cock is on full display for you, flushed and thick and leaking. 

“Holy shit…” you murmur, in a daze; it’s the first dick you’ve ever seen this close-up, and it’s so more intimidating than you could’ve ever imagined. You wonder if all dicks are this massive, or if Eddie is just particularly well-endowed, as you extend your arm to feel along his length experimentally. 

“Was that a good holy shit, or a bad holy shit?” Eddie asks bashfully, nodding his head forward so that his long hair can obscure part of his face. 

“Eddie, your dick is huge,” is all you say to shut him up, and he’s unable to resist the cocky smirk that teases at the corners of his lips. 

He dips back against his bed so that his head is nearly flush with the mattress, pushing his hips out to elongate his body. He groans and stretches, his t-shirt hiking up around his midsection to reveal his soft belly, your gaze lingering there for far longer than it probably should. “Ah, c’mon. I’m not that big.”

The smugness is palpable within his protests, and you narrow your eyes as you position yourself on all fours next to him. “Just tell me what I should do first.”

“Well…” he looks at your face for awhile, before switching his attention to your cleavage, which is completely visible now that your baggy sweater is hanging off your body. Pretending not to notice, he says, “Usually you’d, um. Want to get it wet. Maybe stroke it a little with your hand before you put it in your mouth.” 

“Like this?” You shift your weight onto your knees so you can sit upright, holding your hand out in front of your mouth and spitting into it crudely. Eddie inhales sharply, closely examining your every motion as you draw your arm away from yourself, a string of spit connecting your palm and bitten lips. 

His cock is warm and silky to the touch as you wrap your fingers around it, and you take note of the way he hisses when you begin to move your hand up and down his generous length. “Y-yeah. Like that. That’s- fuck- good.” 

You quicken your pace, a triumphant feeling washing over you as his head lolls back towards the ceiling, his stomach clenching and releasing in direct response to your manipulations. “And then what?” 

Sinking down until your elbows are on the carpet and your back is arched up high, you bring your face closer to his cock, blinking up innocently in wait of his next set of instructions. 

Eddie clears his throat, obviously making an effort to come off as unfazed, although neither of you are strangers to the truth. “You can, uh, put it in your mouth now.” 

You’re perhaps a bit too hasty in your movements, because by the time Eddie’s cock is halfway in your mouth, he eases you back by your hair, stinging your scalp. 

Rather than pissing you off, however, the sensation travels straight from your head to your cunt, and you let out a strangled moan. 

“Shit- sorry,” Eddie says, his big hand stroking your skull where he’d tugged on it. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

You take him out of your mouth but remain close by, your spit-slick lips hovering mere centimeters away from the tip of his cock. “You didn’t. I, um, actually liked it.” 

He raises his eyebrows, seeming equal parts surprised and pleased by your declaration. “Oh yeah? Guess I’m helping you learn a little more than just giving head, huh?”

Flicking out your tongue, you administer tiny licks to his slit, lapping up all of the pre-cum that’s gathered there; Eddie really seems to like this, because he fists your hair in one hand, a string of profanities spilling out past his lips. “F-fuck. Yeah, atta girl. Gotta take it slow at the beginning.” 

Greedy for more of him, your tongue begins sweeping up the side of his dick, tracing lazily alongside the veins that travel throughout. When you’re certain you’ve covered every square inch of him with your hot tongue, you return once again to latch your mouth over the tip. 

“Damn. No fuckin’ way you haven’t done this before,” he manages to say through grit teeth, fisting a clump of your hair to give him better control over your actions. “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Nice and easy.” 

It’s undeniable what his praise and guidance does to you- your thighs are clamped together in a desperate attempt to create friction between them, hips rocking back and forth as you try in vain to rid yourself of the hungry feeling that’s taken you over. You bob your head down to usher a couple more inches of him into your gaping mouth, flattening your tongue against the side so as to fully embrace his salty taste. 

“Ahh, shit. Fuck yeah, (y/n). That’s so fuckin’ good,” he urges, applying some pressure to the back of your head so you can swallow another several inches of his length. “Little less teeth. ’S’it. Yeah, see how deep you can take it.”  

He gathers up your hair to keep it from getting in the way as you start to take him into your throat, your nose almost up against his pelvis as you choke and sputter around him. It’s difficult to breathe with your mouth this filled, but Eddie’s raspy words of encouragement serve in keeping you motivated.

“Keep going, sweetheart. Doing such a good fucking job for me,” he groans, his grasp on your hair loosening to that you can do as you please. With tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, you work to take in the entirety of his cock, gagging noisily when you feel it brush the back of your throat. “Your mouth is like fuckin’ heaven, babe.”  

Your lips curve upwards at the compliment, but you’re incapable of thanking him, your mouth overflowing with nothing but him; as an alternative, you focus on bringing Eddie to his orgasm, painfully curious to discover how he’ll look and feel during his moments of release. 

“Put your hand underneath. Yeah, right there,” he sighs approvingly as your fingers cup and massage his balls, bouncing them lightly in your palm as you continue to suck him. You’re on autopilot at this point, your rhythm impeccable and unrelenting; the noises of your wet mouth working at him are vulgar, your head plunging down on him again and again like you’ve been starved for a year. “Good fuckin’ girl. Yeah, you like choking on my big dick?”

You whimper at this, the vibrations from your throat transferring straight to his cock. Eddie’s grip on your hair tightens as he bucks his hips up underneath you, causing you to drool uncontrollably all over his thick length. 

“Mhm. Take it nice and deep for me,” he mutters lowly, his head tilting upwards so that you're only able to see his parted lips and sculpted jaw. “Gonna cum in your mouth now. Think you can handle that, babe?” 

You nod weakly, speeding up until his breathing becomes choppy and irregular. Your jaw is aching with exhaust, but you don’t dare stop- you’re too close to the finish line to start showing any slack now. 

“Fuck, (y/n)-“ he gasps, and then his cock twitches, a spray of hot liquid coating the inside of your mouth as his veined hand keeps you securely in place. You find yourself struggling against his tight grip as the bittersweet taste of his cum paints your tongue, but you steady yourself enough to swallow it all. 

Eddie takes in a shaky breath as he combs his fingers through your hair affectionately, giving you the opportunity to sit up and recover. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, (y/n). Now I really feel like I owe you something.” 

He shimmies his clothes back up so that he’s covered again, his tongue sticking out thoughtfully from the corner of his mouth. His face is flushed and rosy, forehead kissed with the soft glow of sweat, and for the second time today, all you want is to kiss him. 

“So… I did okay?” You wipe your slick face with the back of your sleeve, running the fingers of your opposite hand through your unkempt mess of hair. Sure, it’s pretty clear that he’d enjoyed himself, but there’s still a part of you that craves his verbal confirmation. 

“Are you kidding? That was some A-plus head in my book. You didn’t even really need me to help you,” Eddie smiles, casually looping his arm around your shoulders, the basic act of which fills your abdomen with butterflies. “But y’know what? I realized that I kinda like being a teacher.” 

You poise an eyebrow, a suggestive glint in your big doe eyes. You've got him. “Yeah? Why don't you show me what else you can teach me?”

[blisschi]

I saw your senpai!Xiao headcanon, and I must say that wow... I am truly in love. Could you possibly make more/some kind of sequel of it, where the reader is bad at math and he patiently teaches them? It doesn't matter if Xiao's good or bad at math, it's up to your assumption, but I really want to see senpai Xiao patiently teaching math to the reader who just couldn't understand math immediately 😢😢😢😢 this is based on experience, yes, I am failing math

You don't need to rush! I saw your post that you said you have so many exams so please don't feel burdened by my request.

Aaah.. Anon, anon, anon.. who isn't failing math? T^T 🌸

I hope you'll do okay on your exams and I wish you all of the luck with passing!

🌸Last Spring🌸

Pairing: Senpai! Xiao x Kouhai! GN! Reader!

Warnings: None ♡

Notes: I hope you like it! 🌸

Spring semester was approaching. Outside the window, the sakura trees were already blooming, and more insects appeared around the flowers.

Spring really was the most lovely time of the year, wasn't it? But it would probably be better if it weren't for the upcoming final exam from one of the worst subjects in the world - math.

You sighed softly, turning your head towards the window to look at the sakura petals floating in the wind as your boyfriend tried to explain one of the tasks to you.

Tired of hearing the same thing over and over.

"Xiao.." You whinned and put your head on the desk, sighing loudly. "It won't work out, I'm too stupid for that."

Xiao just sighed quietly and shook his head as he put the textbook down. He himself offered to help you, seeing how sluggishly you are in learning this subject.

"I won't pass this exam and that's it-"

"Do not say that." He gave you a warning look and crossed his arms. You knew Xiao didn't like it when you didn't believe in yourself.

Anything was possible for him, as long as you worked hard for it and put your whole heart into it.

"Again.. Which part do you not understand?"

You let out a defeated whine and lifted your head from the desk, puffing your cheeks. Why do you have to study this at all? Will it ever be of use to you in your life?

"Every!" You answered his question and looked him straight in the eyes. At the moment, you felt a little quilty that he was spending his precious time on trying to teach you math, when he could be doing something else. Something.. that isn't pointless.

You sighed and lowered your head, closing your eyes. "I'm sorry.."

Xiao smiled lightly and leaned towards you, placing one hand on your head to stroke your hair carefully.

You raised your head to look at him again. Your heart skipped a beat as he gently put his hand to your cheek, looking at you reassulingly.

"Let's try this again, okay?" He asked - to which you replied with a slight nod of the head. Xiao picked up the workbook and pointed at one of the simplest tasks. "I'll show you how to this one then we'll do the rest together, what do you say?"

"Mhm.." Forced sound of consent left your mouth as he took the piece of paper and started to write down the calculations. In the process, you couldn't help but look up, secretly admiring the boy's beauty.

His honey-colored eyes focused on the sheet of paper, delicately reflecting the pink color of sakura petals from behind the window. His hair, combed back so as not to distract him from studying.

There was nothing you disliked about him, really. Xiao was a walking ideal. Despite his cold demeanor and appearance, there was a kind and loving boy inside.

You smiled lightly and your thoughts drifted to the moment when you first confessed your love to him.

You remember that moment as if it was yesterday. Back then, sakura petals floated in the wind as well, giving the moment a magical meaning. You're glad that Xiao accepted your feelings.

You're really happy.

"Understood that?" Xiao's voice brought you back to reality, and now he turned his head towards you and waited for an answer pariently.

"I- Etto.. Xiao.." You chuclled softly, turning your gaze to the window, watching the already setting sun. "Last spring.. we started dating."

Xiao smiled in response and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"I fell in love with you last spring."

You widened your eyes at the sudden confession, and although it was nothing unusual, you blushed slightly.

Why? After all, a declaration of love in a relationship is normal.. then why are you feeling that pleasurable warmth everytime he says he loves you?

Your gaze returned to his face and with a warm smile, you whispered.

"Really?" Xiao raised his eyebrows and smiled back, patting you on the head.

"I think I already understand."

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the free headpats.

"Hmm.. No."

[breakyeol]

— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

�� Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Nightmare paradise; Doctor Strange x daughter reader

*Author’s note*

Now I know this may not be my best work but I have been DYING to make a Doctor Strange daughter fic since like FOREVER!! A lone solo without any real relationship patterns in tact (mostly Peter Parker WHICH I DON’T DISAGREE WITH AT ALL. I’m just saying I hardly see any other fics that just revolve SOLELY on Stephen strange and a daughter reader. THAT’S IT.) So in the end THIS is what ended up being born.

Also I LEAVE FACVE CASTING OF NIGHTMARE UP TO YOU GUYS!! I personally imagined Troy Baker’s voice for Nightmare but you guys can picture WHOMEVER you wish to be the character for Nightmare. Also this fic is LOOSELY based off of WandaVision but DON’T WORRY NO SPOILERS OF THE SERIES IS GIVEN. I just took a plot point from the series and had it work for the Doctor Strange universe. Enjoy my first Maevel fic in FOREVER dearies :)

Warnings: Swearing, the BLIP mentioned and described, Thanos mentioned (yeah he’s a warning), some battle sequences, blood (if you’re squeamish).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queen-paladin​

@soy-guey​

____________________________________________________________

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring off.  I groaned and reached out to try and shut it off but no matter how many times I was slamming my hand on my desk, my alarm was still blaring.  Finally I got out from under my covers and unplugged my clock and saw just how bright it was outside.  I let out a groan and collapsed back to my pillows.

“Why do I have to be woken up so early?” I groaned tiredly before heaving myself upward and out of my bed.  I walked towards my jointed bathroom and took my morning shower. After that I got changed and went downstairs to eat my breakfast.

I lifted my hand and soon a pop-tart came into my hand and I unwrapped the tinfoil and took out one of the two pop-tarts.

“It somehow amuses me to see you use your mystic arts to bring you your breakfast when you could just get it yourself.” That deep familiar baritone voice spoke out to me.

“Coming from the guy who just last month used his powers to wash his car when he was teaching me the form of astral projection.” I sassed back at him.

“That was for the purpose of multitasking.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“What are you talking about of course it is.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too times infinity times infinity there I win!” I chuckled and teasingly poked my tongue out at him.

“When did you get sassier than me, dad?”

“More like you inherited your sass from me. But no one can out sass me.” He said as he playfully booped my nose.

“Yeah but never forget dad,” I then took his arm and kicked his leg in before tossing him over my shoulder to finally pin him down. “I’m the more clever fighter out of the two of us.” He hummed questioningly.

“You sure about that?” suddenly I was levitated in the air and constricted in a familiar red velvet cloth.  I looked down to see the cloak of levitation had my arms pinned to my sides and was levitating me just a few inches off the ground.

“You cheat!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme never cheats.”

“But my father does.”

“You know you better choose your next sentence very carefully.” My dad threatened with that growl-like tone to his voice, but the twinkle of mischief and playful smirk on his face told me that this wasn’t a real threat.

“Or what? Parlor magician.” Next thing I knew the cloak of levitation had lifted part of it’s material up and it started messing up my hair. Not only getting it tangled up but making sure it gave my hair a static charge to it.

I exclaimed as I pleaded it to stop before it was too late, but soon enough my hair resembled a porcupine with it’s quills standing up. My dad laughed as the cloak finally released me and I fixed my hair.

“Very funny dad.”

“Oh I think it’s very funny.” He said through his deep baritone chuckle.  I tried to adjust my hair but some strands still remained on end.  “Here, let me help.” He then licked his fingers and I exclaimed.

“Eww gross you know I hate that!”

“Well it’s either this or we wet your hair again and you don’t have time to argue because you’re already 10 minutes late for class.”

“WHAT!?” I looked at the grandfather clock and saw that it was already 7:50am. “Shit!”

“Ah-ah-ah-ah language!” my dad scolded me.  I growled lowly and said.

“Okay fine just fix it hurry!” he soon made my hairbrush appear and he gently re-brushed my hair to it’s normal way.  Any crazy strand that was out of place, my dad would lick his fingers and tame it down by stroking it down to the rest of my hair.

“There you go, back to your normal gorgeous hair.” I then quickly opened up a portal to my school but before I left the cloak once again grabbed my arm preventing me from leaving.

“What now?”

“You know the rules, come on. No matter how old you get you never leave the house without giving your old man a kiss.” I looked up at him then stood up on my tip toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m going to be late.”

“You’re always late.” The cloak finally freed me and I hopped through the portal and gave one last wave to my dad before closing the portal back up.  As the last warning bell rang, I quickly raced through the back entrance of the school and raced to my first class.

The day went on as normal.  First block Advance Science, second block, PE, followed by half of third block being English and then lunch at 12:15pm and that’s where I was right now. We had about a half hour for lunch before continuing the second half of 3rd block since that’s how second lunches go.

See my school has this strange set up based on whatever class you have for your 3rd block depends on your lunch schedule.  If you had an elective class (choir, drama, band, orchestra, art), a foreign language, or science class you had 1st lunch at around 10:30am (so that means you eat lunch before you would go to your 3rd block class).  

Second lunches (like me) follow under English and Math have the first half dedicated to class, then lunch then we continue our class. And then 3rd lunches are for the people who eat lunch after their 3rd block classes, they’d eat then go straight to their last class of the day (history, PE/driver’s ED, health, home economics).

I was sitting with some of my friends when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey (Y/n)!” I turned and saw my group of friends.  I walked over to our table and that’s when one of my friends Courtney said.

“Yo (n/n) what be up?”

“Nothing much, just trying to get by in Mr. Gordon’s class.”

“I still can’t believe you somehow managed to pass his class when a friend of mine is struggling so bad. And he’s never done bad in the advance classes.” Said another friend of mine, Bobi said.

“I think it comes from having a neurosurgeon as a father. Well former neurosurgeon.” I said recalling the accident.  Of course I never told my friends that my dad eventually became a superhero that could bend time and reality to his will all thanks to his training he did with the former Sorceress Supreme.

“Well no worries (n/n), I’m sure your dad will get back on his feet soon.” My friend Jay said.

“Yeah, he is a strong man.”

“Then how come he got bleeped away like the rest of the world did?” said Kira.  I looked up at my ginger haired friend in shock.

“What did you just say?”

“I said then how come when my dad gets the shit knocked out of him, he just bitches about it?” I looked at her confused for a second and that’s when Kelsey answered.

“Just be thankful your dad at least tries to work. All my dad does is drinks and sleep.” I patted her shoulder comfortingly as I continued eating my pizza.

When school was over, my friends and I went down to the bowling alley since it was Friday.  We reserved our usual lanes and got into our teams.  I was up next to bowl for my team, I took hold of my red bowl, lined myself up and took a deep breath in then exhaled out.

‘(Y/n)! (Y/n)!’ my dad’s voice soon screamed in my head.  His tone sounded urgent and—worried? What was going on?

“Yo (Y/n) you alright?” Mikaela came up to me placing her hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah sorry.” She gave me a comforting squeeze on my shoulder.

“It’s okay, just make the shot otherwise we’ll lose and you are our best striker.” She went back to her seat and took a sip of her diet coke. My team was cheering me on, I took another deep breath but just as I took my run and let the ball go, my head suddenly felt like it was splitting open.

The ball went straight down the gutter and I was soon met with all these flashes.  I saw my dad, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, and these—other people including myself on what looked like a deserted wasteland of rubble.

There was this giant purple being that we were all fighting, a flash of green and then I saw my dad turn to dust.  When my vision came back I could hear my team groaning and my other friends who had their team cheering.

“WHAT THE FUCK (Y/N)!!!” Danielle exclaimed.

“Gurl you never. Miss. A. shot!” Mikaela snapped at me.

“What the fuck was that (Y/n)?!” Jay yelled.

“Ehhh thanks (y/n). Now you guys have to pay for the meal.” Courtney said as she snapped her fingers in victory.

And I don’t know how or why it happened but suddenly I was back holding the ball in my hands, staring down the pins and my team was cheering for me.  How did I get back here? Why was I back here? I felt myself step forward a few times and release the ball and soon I got a perfect strike.

My team cheered as the pins were cleared and a new set was placed down in front of me.

“Alright (n/n)! One more strike and we win!” my ball soon came back onto the ramp and I picked it up, stepped forward and released the ball and low and behold another strike! My team cheered while the other team groaned in defeat.

“Oh yasss Queen!” Chris exclaimed.

“Alright Courtney, pay up you’re buying the pizza now!”

“Damn you (y/n).” Courtney sneered at me as she took out her wallet and left the payment for all our pizzas and a tip for our waiter.

After that it was already getting dark outside and when I looked at my watch I had seen that it was now 10:30pm.

“Well guys I gotta get going.” I told them.

“Yeah I promised my mom that we’d go shopping for my sister’s wedding next month.” Mikaela said.

“Yeah and I gotta get up and ready for work by 8am. See yah guys.” Courtney said and soon all my friends and I went our separate ways.  I went into an alleyway to open up a portal to get me back home when I heard a sudden crash behind me.

“Hello?” I cried out.  Nothing but silence replied back to me. “Who-who’s there?” another crash was heard just head of me but I didn’t see anything.

The quick fluttering sounds of a cape or cloak whisked past behind me and when I quickly turned around I thought I could see the cloak of levitation, but it was so dark and so fast I couldn’t tell for sure.

I quickly made my portal and jumped through it and immediately closed it before finally starting to hyperventilate.  My knees turned to jelly as I collapsed to the ground trying to control my breathing.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong sweetheart are you okay?” I looked up and saw my dad kneeling down beside me.

“I—I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not. Come on let’s get you up to your room and settled in your bed.” He picked me up, holding me like how he always used to hold me when I was little and carried me back to my room.

I was now in my sleep pants and an old nightshirt.  My dad made a tall glass of milk appear by my bedside and he said as he brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

“Now, you wanna talk about why I found you hyperventilating at the bottom of the stairs?” I took a sip of my milk and said.

“It’s just…..I don’t know. Something weird happened today.”

“Like what?”

“Well there was something that Kira said to me. She—” but for some reason what I was about to say slipped my mind.

“She was going to say what?”

“She……she said……I-I can’t remember. I had it but now it’s….it’s gone.”

“Okay, what else happened? I know it couldn’t be just because of what she said.”

“Yeah, yeah then there was this sense of……déjà vu. Like when I was bowling I……” but again like before, when I was about to speak about—the thing it slipped my mind once again.  At this point my dad was looking at me like I was mad. “I…..I can’t remember the déjà vu thing either. Daddy, am……am I going mad?” he pressed his hand against my forehead.

“I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers.” He said gravely. “But I’ll tell you a little secret. All the best people are.” He said with a grin. I looked at him with my bitch face which made him chuckle.

“Must you always quote Alice in Wonderland to me?”

“It’s your favorite movie and book of all time. You remember how you’d always beg me to read it to you as a little girl?”

“One look with my puppy dog eyes and you succumbed every time.” He pressed his forehead against mine as his nose gently rubbed against mine as he chuckled that deep baritone chuckle of his.  The type that always made me feel safe.

“How about this, tomorrow we just take a day for ourselves. Just the two of us. We don’t even need to leave the house.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Great, love you sweetheart.” He leaned in and kissed my temple before leaving my room and shutting the door behind him.  I downed the rest of the milk and suddenly felt sleepy. I collapsed onto my pillow and like a lightbulb I fell right asleep.

But throughout the night I kept tossing and turning as I was hearing not only my dad’s voice but Wong’s voice too.  They were both frantic with worry as they kept calling out to me.

When I opened my eyes I found myself back at that wasteland and I saw myself fighting against the giant purple alien.  I was holding the sacred sword of Vishanti.  I saw myself leap into the air and swing the sword downward but the alien caught it with his bare hands.  The two of us struggled with our strengths until he grabbed me by my white tunic and threw me like a ragdoll.

My dad soon came in with the bolts of balthakk which broke apart the ground around the purple giant but his gauntlet glowed a bright purple and shit a blast towards my dad.  But my dad summoned a portion of the mirror dimension and used it as a shield to protect himself before sending it towards the giant.

While the giant was distracted I then suddenly came flying over my dad and sent the Crimson bands of Cyttorak to bind him while my dad multiplied himself using the images of Ikkon.  He surrounded himself around the purple giant and each image created their own binding bands which shot down towards the giant purple creep.

But he used the gauntlet again and soon my dad’s image went back to just himself and my hold on him was also severed.  He used the gauntlet to bring my dad closer to him but I couldn’t hear what he was telling my dad.

What I did see was him taking the eye of Agamotto and crush it into his palm before throwing my dad aside knocking him out.  I then heard myself scream out towards me dad and saw the rage in my own eyes.

I saw myself let out a battle cry as I leapt into action. This time using hand to hand combat using the sword as well as creating my own shields to block his attacks.  Wow I was a rageful monster with whoever this guy was.  But—why is this so familiar to me? I know this couldn’t be just a dream, it’s like—a memory? A vision maybe?

All I know was that I saw myself getting weaker with each kick and punch I tried to throw.  That was until I saw myself getting stabbed in my side.  The purple giant then said.

“I respect you young witch. But now you’re starting to become a nuisance.” I then watched as he took out the sword from my side and I saw myself collapse onto the ground bleeding heavily.

I found myself gasping as I woke up and looked around to see myself still in my bedroom.  I turned to the clock and saw that it was 1:45am.  I quickly raced downstairs, in the total pitch black of my house not knowing what I was doing.

“And just where do you think you’re going little miss?” my dad’s voice soon said.  He turned around in a chair as he turned on the light beside him.

“I-I was only…….”

“You weren’t planning on sneaking out were you? You know my rule. No venturing out after midnight.”

“No dad I-I-I wasn’t.” he stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder.  However I felt his nail sink onto my skin piercing through my shirt painfully.  I bit my bottom lip trying to keep in a scream or even a sound of pain.

“You know how it makes me feel whenever you disobey your father. You wouldn’t want to make father angry, do you?”

“N-no.” I whimpered out.

“That’s my girl.” Suddenly my dad was shot with a bolt of balthakk.  I ducked down holding my shoulder and saw a small amount of blood actually on my fingertips.

“She’s not your girl, she’s mine!” I turned around and saw Wong and my dad?! Wait what was going on here? Why were there two of them? My dad was in his full Sorcerer Supreme outfit as the cloak of levitation had him hovering over a few inches off the ground.

My dad who had been shot across the room growled out as he stood back up.

“Impossible. You were gone! I’d seen it for myself!” he hissed. My other dad smirked and said.

“14,000,605 possibilities I had seen and only one victory. That possibility has already come to pass. Now I’ll only tell you this once,” he clapped his fists together and soon his shields came over his hands and he warned my dad. “Let. My daughter go less you face the wrath of the Master of the Mystic Arts.”

“(Y/n) you need to come with us now before it’s too late.” Wong told me.

“I—I don’t understand……how?”

“Sweetheart listen to me, I’m your real father. Just come stand behind Wong and I and we’ll get you out of here.”

“Don’t listen to him (Y/n). I’m your real father. Who would know what your favorite lullaby was?”

“(Y/n) I know he may seem like me but he’s not. It’s Nightmare. He’s kept you trapped in the Dream Dimension for 3 years.”

What? Then suddenly behind me a giant green and black blast of magic shot up in the air.  As my dad’s body soon began to morph into another male’s body, wearing a familiar green and black attire, his hair growing wild and madded like a lion’s mane, his nails growing sharper and blacker like claws, his teeth turning to fangs and his eyes.  Those once warm blueish-green eyes that once held warmth now turned a frightening and haunting yellow with a black pupil at its center.

Suddenly it all came back to me.  When Thanos had snapped half of the population away, it gave Nightmare the advantage and power boast he needed to try and escape the Dream dimension and enter our own.

So three years ago I along with some other Sorcerers (those that were left) went to the Dream Dimension to stop him from invading Earth.  But due to everyone’s fear and guilt of losing their loved ones and what the world had come to, Nightmare was almost too powerful to stop.  He had killed one sorcerer who was still in her training and another one he had driven mad with fear.

In order to spare the others as well as the rest of the Earth, I volunteered myself as penance.  I told Nightmare that he could have me if he spared everyone on Earth. He agreed and sent the rest of the sorcerers I had brought with me back to Earth leaving me under his control.  I guess he had me relive a normal life with my dad where it was mainly us, no Thanos, no other Avengers, just me and him.

A haunting laughter was heard as Nightmare spoke with his true voice.

“Right you are Doctor. However you’re only partially correct this time around.” He walked right up to me and placed his hands on my shoulders gripping them once again. “Your daughter came to me by her own freewill.”

“That’s a lie! My daughter would never surrender herself to the likes of you!” Nightmare turned to me and disappeared into black smoke before reappearing behind me.

“Do you want to tell him? Or shall I?” he said as I felt one of his claw-like nails nick across my neck.  I hissed in pain and felt a small amount of blood dripping down.  His finger brushed across the cut and I could see him lick the blood off his finger from my peripheral vision.

“I’m sorry dad.”

“(Y/n)…….why?” before I could say anything Nightmare simply shushed me which in turn silenced me.  I tried to speak but not even a peep came out of me.  Nightmare had taken my voice.

“Seems she had more common sense than you did. The daughter of the Sorcerer Supreme is a precious treasure to uphold.” I felt him stroke down my hair, the very same way my dad would always do it to me.

“This is your last warning Nightmare, let her go or else.”

“Or else what? In case you hadn’t noticed I’m the one in control here. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been before. And you’re in my dimension which gives me the homefield advantage!”

“Yeah, but there’s one thing you still haven’t let go of. Your constant need to brag.” My dad said with a grin.  Nightmare looked at my father confused which gave me the chance to free myself from his grip and I binded him with the Crimson bands of Cyttorak. Wong soon joined in and pushed a wall from the mirror dimension right towards Nightmare sending him out of the room.

My dad raced up towards me and the two of us embraced each other.  I felt his left hand press against my temple while his right touched the base of my throat. I felt this warmth come over me and I said to him.

“I’m sorry dad.”

“Apologize later. Right now let’s get you out of here. You’ve been in here long enough.” He took my hand and we quickly made a run for it.

The normal streets of New York melted away and I finally saw the Dream dimension for what it really was.  A dark black shadow surrounded the sky with haunting eyes staring at you and fanged mouths snarling or taunting you with your worst fears and guilt.  Doors were also scattered everywhere, each one leading to somewhere you didn’t want to be or even get lost in.

And at the bottom of the trail we ran along at, an endless, empty abyss.  One trip or a slip, then it’s a never ending fall throughout the Dream dimension.   Wong let out a few shield platforms for us to hop across.

“Come on! The door we came through won’t be in the same spot for long.” He was the first to hop onto the first platform but then just before dad and I could even take the first leap, a python suddenly shot out from the floor and took hold of my calf.

“(Y/n)!” my dad exclaimed.  I was being dragged towards the edge of the trail.  I tried my best to scratch myself back towards my dad but the python continued to drag me towards the edge till I was finally dangling over the abyss.

My dad summoned the sword of Vishanti and threw it straight into the python’s eye which forced it to let me go as it recoiled back in pain before disappearing into a puff of black smoke.  Dad quickly brought me back onto solid ground and we both saw my leg was heavily bleeding.

“Never did I think I could hate snakes even more than I usually do.” I groaned out a joke.

“Just be thankful he didn’t conjure up a venomous one. Try to stop the bleeding.” The cloak of levitation came off my dad’s shoulders and wrapped itself around my leg, tightening itself up to stop the bleeding.

“You and Wong need to get out of here. You guys can come back with help.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here again that’s not happening!”

“Dad I can’t walk! And without the cloak you can’t fly.”

“We’ll think of something.”

‘I’m afraid there won’t be any time for you three, or should I say you two.’ That’s when we noticed that Wong had suddenly gone missing.

“Wong? Wong!” my dad called out.

‘Face it Strange, you’re in my dimension now. And thanks to your daughter’s powers I’ve grown more powerful than ever before!’ My dad picked me up bridal style and proceeded to run.

Somehow we managed to find somewhere to hide.  One of many doors that simply looked like a dark cave. My dad sat me down and that’s when the cloak unwrapped itself from my leg and my dad began to heal my leg as quickly as he could.

“Dad…..if—if we don’t make it out of here…..”

“We’re gonna make it out.”

“Dad please I—I need to say this, after five long years please just let me speak my mind.” He looked at me worriedly but gave me a nod. “If we don’t make it out of here alive, I—just want you to know that…..I’m proud to call you my father. I know we had a—rocky start especially when I became a teenager but—after the accident I thought I had lost you forever. And then when—Thanos blipped you away. I’d come so close to losing you again without telling you how I’ve felt about you. I love you daddy. I really, really do love you.” He pressed his hand against my cheek and said.

“I love you too (Y/n). I love you so, so much. I know I haven’t been Dad of the year to you, but……I thought it was because I wasn’t ready to be a dad. I thought I would screw up and have you end up broken. But I am proud to call you my daughter, my little white witch.” I smiled at him sadly.

‘How sentimental.’ Nightmare’s voice echoed through the darkness.  My dad pulled me close to his chest, his arms wrapped around me protectively, same thing with the cloak as it felt the red velvet material wrap it’s two edges around me.

“So what now Nightmare? Now that I’ve broken free of your spell you going to kill me?” I heard his haunting chuckle as he said.

“No of course not. He is.” Suddenly my dad was struck with one of Nightmare’s controlling spells.  It hit him right in his eyes and I saw the black and green magic aura surround my dad, trying to manipulate him.

“No! Dad! Dad no please fight it!” I pleaded as my dad was groaning and writhing on the floor.  He held his hands to his head as he exclaimed in pain. “Daddy no please, you’re stronger than him. You’re clever than him, you’re Doctor Stephen Strange!”

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but daddy’s no longer home.” Nightmare soon appeared as the cave light up by a single firepit just a few feet away from us.  Nightmare stood on top of a ledge of sorts and that’s when I heard the snarl of an animal next to me.

When I looked down that’s when I saw my dad had now shifted into a Nightmare.  Teeth like a wolf’s bared at me, gleaming like the full moon, his eyes now a haunting gold like a tiger’s eye but his pupils were slitted like a snake’s, claws like meat hooks, a whip-like tail that almost looked like a dragon’s tail and bat wings soon sprouted from his back as he stared me down snarling.

I backed up before hobbling away from him but my dad charged after me.  That’s when the cloak of levitation came to protect me as it wrapped itself around my father’s face trying to smother him.

“You know maybe I should’ve made you deal with this the past three years. Your biggest fear is your beloved father turned against you.” I fell to the ground due to my injury and backed away up against the rocky wall.  All the while I watched in horror as my dad actually began ripping the cloak apart before staring directly as me once again.

“Release him at once Nightmare! This wasn’t a part of our deal!” I snapped as I looked up to where he was standing above me.

“Contracts can be edited sweetheart. So long as I bind you to my will it doesn’t matter what you see. Unless by my word that I release you from your contract, you are stuck here for eternity.” I heard a snarl and when I looked forward, my dad was just inches away from my face.

His canine teeth gleaming right at me as he kept licking his fangs.  He truly was a monster now, there was not a single trace of my dad anymore in this beast.

“No daddy.” He stalked closer and closer inch by inch till I could feel his hot breath panting right in my face.

“Sweet dreams love.” Nightmare gave me one last taunt using my dad’s real voice.

Then quicker than lightning the beast that was once my father actually lunged for my neck and I felt his canines pierce my skin and I let out a blood curdling scream.

“Blech! Blood, blood, blood! And—death!” I said as my dad released my neck grinning at my over dramatic death scene.  I then collapsed to the ground and played dead with my tongue out and everything.

“Alright now you’re just milking it.” My dad spoke with a slightly more gravel to his normal voice (kinda reminded me of Smaug from the Hobbit films). “Besides, I think we’ve got him. Thank you Nightmare you’ve been a great costar.” Dad said as he helped me stand up.

“What?” oh the confusion on Nightmare’s face was priceless.

“Oh did you think you actually affected me with your Nightmare magic? Well spells can be contained by other spells, and your attack is trapped in the mirror dimension.”

“And I’ve been working on some other forms of magic like shapeshifting thanks to some Norse spell books.” I explained to him gesturing to my dad.

“My girl is a clever one. Cheeky at times too.” Dad said as he ruffled my hair.  Nightmare growled and said to me.

“But you forget one thing, you’re still under my control (Y/n) Strange. So says my law.”

“Yeah about that.” I then pulled out a small tape recorder from my pocket, rewind it and played the part that I needed and soon Nightmare’s voice said.

‘I release you from your contract.’

“Now by your own law, I am no longer tied to the Dream Dimension, or your control.” Nightmare’s face dropped from pride to utter defeat.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

“Oh yes. It’s called a hustle bitch. Mic drop!” Soon a portal came behind dad and I and we both jumped through it sending us back to the New York Sanctum.  The last thing we heard was Nightmare’s defeated tantrums.

Wong immediately closed the portal behind us and I dropped the spell from my dad turning him back to his normal self.

“You know he’ll try to return.” Wong told us.

“Yeah and now it seems I’m a bigger threat to him than you are dad.” I said.

“Well no matter what happens, we’ll be there to make sure he doesn’t try to return to Earth. Whatever it takes.”

Later that night as I was browsing through my phone, a knock was heard at my door.

“It’s open.” My dad soon came in and he said.

“How are you feeling?”

“After finally getting some real food in my system, and finally getting to use the Internet again. I’d say I’m doing better.”

“You know you didn’t have to be the one to do it. Wong was willing to hold Nightmare off.”

“I know, but the Time stone did show you that I needed to be the one to do it. Plus a poor, helpless, defenseless little girl willing to sacrifice herself for her friends. Nightmare could never resist such a scenario.”

“But to be tortured by him for three years? I’m surprised your psyche hasn’t been damaged.” He said as he sat down beside me.

“Well truthfully it wasn’t any different than what we’re doing right now. I was basically living a normal life with you, still using our powers but it was all before Thanos ever came into the picture. It almost felt like a sitcom at times.”

“Interesting.” Dad pondered.

“In all seriousness though dad, I’m fine. Mentally and physically. Well most of me anyways.” I said raising my newly bandaged leg. “But that’ll heal in the next few days thanks to Wong’s herbal remedies.”

“Well it’s getting late, so your head goes right there.” He said pointing to my pillow.

“Nah think I’ll just stay up all night. I mean I have been asleep technically for 3 years.”

“Fine, but don’t come whining to me when I come in here at first light for your morning training.”

“Please dad. You hate mornings even more than I do. Even when you were a neurosurgeon you hated your morning shifts.” He chuckled and gave me a kiss on top of my head.

“You really are my daughter.”

“And damn proud of it.”

“Goodnight (Y/n).”

“Night dad. Glad to have you back.” He winked at me before leaving my room.  I laid back against my pillow and sighed heavily continuing to go through the web and looking at my old social media accounts that I hadn’t used in awhile and seeing just what some of my old friends were up to. “You may have created the perfect paradise for me Nightmare, but I wouldn’t trade my reality for anything else.” I spoke out loud knowing that Nightmare could be potentially listening in.

[a-crimson-lion]

Ultimatum: The Art of Lying In A Made Bed

(Or Why My Experience With Chapter 285 Is Contrary To Everyone Else's)

[Manga Spoilers Ahead. Also Opinions. Feel Free To Ignore.]

After Chapter 284, many fans were wondering how the story of BNHA would follow up on Katsuki's development. Now that Chapter 285 is officially out, fans are clamoring about Katsuki's latest acts of heroism, about how his arc is finally kicking it into high gear.

I'd be inclined to agree, but… you know how these things go.

[Heads up fans/stans, if you like Katsuki you might wanna bail. The word vomit that follows is pretty much incoherent and reflects my disaster of a thought process.]

I was looking forward to Chapter 285. I had my reservations on the execution of Chapter 284, but if the next chapter could follow it up and then some, I'd be pleasantly surprised. But then the leaks came out. And then the fan translation. And as of today, the official VIZ translation.

While everyone else is cheering for explosion boy, I'm just… done.

285 didn't get me to see how far Bakugo's journey has come. 285 didn't get me to finally root for him. And maybe I am making this decision prematurely, maybe I am missing something, but…

...the way things are going in the story I just- I just CAN'T root for him.

And I'm not saying the rest of you can't, if you're still reading. Katsuki is definitely a different person compared to Chapter 1, a better person, and he's definitely been heading on the up and up! If you can and want to support him, then by all means, go for it, don't let me stop you! It's just…

For me, chapter 284 was a wavering torch: a flicker of hope that sometimes dwindled, but was still there. Chapter 285 was the moment where I wanted to jump on the Katsuki Development Train, to finally gain some semblance of respect for him. But when I jumped, I landed on the tracks, and had to crawl back onto the platform.

I missed my chance to jump on that train. Whether it's because of previous circumstances or recent circumstances, I'll never know…

You probably wanna ask me at this point, "But Crimson, why DIDN'T Chapter 285 make you see the awe inspiring pinnacle of character development that is Katsuki Bakugo???"

To put it simply: it's a culmination thing.

For starters, there's a sort of… whiplash with Katsuki's development in the last few chapters. People like me will complain that Katsuki's development is too slow, in the case of the last 2-3 chapters, it feels like a switch was flipped, and now it's become too fast. Perhaps it's a me thing, but let me try to explain…

Shoto starts out as a standard background character. By the time he gets his spotlight in the Sports Festival, he comes off as reserved and antagonistic. After the whole "it's your power" moment, Shoto is finally able to accept the side he always hated. Then Katsuki fights Shoto, and we're shown he still needs time to grow; his left side comes with a lot of baggage he can't just brush off in the span of a single sparring match.

Fastforward to Hosu. Shoto's starting to take other people into better account. He's starting to learn to better control his fire. He's reconnected with his mother. His goal is no longer one-upping his old man; he has goals, people, that he wants to protect. He's coming into his own and wants others to do the same, like Tenya.

He joins the Katsuki Rescue Squad because, like Izuku, he had an opportunity to save Katsuki, didn't, and now he wants to make up for it. When we get to the Provisional License Exam, we're yet again slammed with the fact that his growth is still not done via Inasa, that there's still a bit of Endeavor he has to shake off, even if it was in the past. And he does progress towards that with the Remedial Course Arc. And while I have my opinions on the Endeavor Agency Arc, I'll admit that it was another development opportunity for Shoto and the Todoroki family. Shoto's growth comes with setbacks, but overall it's consistent.

Let's shift gears to Tenya, who's characterization I find fascinating. He starts out opposed to Izuku when they first meet at the Entrance Exam. He sees how Izuku is (for lack of a better phrase) "better qualified" at heroics thus far, reassesses his position, and apologizes whilst making amends. When Tenya resorts to LITERAL MURDER against Stain, the narrative does not let him go off without reprocussions. His arms are damaged, his supervisor's teaching license is revoked, and while he managed to avoid legal charges via police cover up, it still came close. Tenya listened to Stain's words, and opted to improve himself by that notion. He tries to set a better example, be a better class rep. It isn't a one and done.

Him lashing out during the Hideout Raid Arc is an offshoot of that. He doesn't deck Izuku just to be a dick; he's trying to knock some sense into him. They're so focused on Katsuki that they're forgetting about everyone else. Their friends, their teachers, their parents. If they f*** up like Tenya almost did at Hosu, they'll have hell to pay, and he doesn't want that. Of course, once they explain that combat/murder is not their M.O., Tenya tags along, if only to ensure the operation goes smoothly without this hitch. And again, Tenya keeps up. He looks after his classmates, looks after Izuku during the Shie Hassaikai arc. His growth is also consistent.

There are probably more characters I could elaborate on (Ochako, Momo, Eijiro, etc.), but I'll stop there. So, what's the deal with Katsuki's arc?

Well, it's… frustratingly back and forth.

It's one thing to have setbacks like Tenya and Shoto. It's something else entirely to have multiple setbacks and to keep trucking on with only abstract signs of development, but otherwise feeling like a very similar character compared to several chapters ago.

This is (in my opinion) Katsuki's problem. If we're going by what the manga stated, his arc technically started in Chapter 11: "Bakugo's Starting Line." But this is a rocky start. Izuku tells him about OFA right from the getgo out of guilt, but this neglects the fact that he's technically lying to everyone about it (including his new friends Ochako and Tenya), that OFA is a world-shattering secret, and that Katsuki is likely the worst person to tell this to considering that Izuku just handed Katsuki's ass to him and Katsuki was willing to use lethal force in their Trial. That aside, instead of say, sucking up his pride and opting to try and learn from everyone else, Katsuki doesn't really change strategies or approaches. He essentially does what he was planning to do since the start of UA; he's only crying because, SURPRISE, people are better than him. You'd think he'd expect that considering he called his middle school crappy…

After the USJ, once everyone had their "Lol Bakugo sux" moment on the bus ride, we get to the Sports Festival and everyone is clamoring to join Katsuki's team despite his apparent unapproachability. This feels less like something happened in the two weeks leading up to the Sports Festival, and more like history repeating itself from middle school. Moving on to the tournament, we don't even get to see how capable Katsuki is at serious combat. Two of his matches resort to Deus Ex Machina pulls, and the other two are in his corner by principle instead of difficult.

First off, Katsuki vs Ochako. I don't know why people praise this fight. For starters, it makes Katsuki HEAVILY OoC. Ochako is the only person he asks if she wants to back out before the match even starts. The ONLY person, which kinda undermines the whole "he didn't underestimate her" thing. Then he takes a reactionary stance the entire battle. Like, I thought we were still dealing with the "fist first" Katsuki. He does this to Eijiro, Fumikage, even Shoto, but Ochako? Stay still and then attack. Even if he did get his gravity removed, couldn't he just… propelly himself and let her have it. If he was proactive, he could have ended the fight quicker. Instead, he just plays sitting duck and headless chicken. If you're gonna have Katsuki win the fight, don't bulls*** it.

Which brings me to the final bit of that fight: the meteor shower. Having Katsuki blow that away after supposedly expending most of his energy earlier in the match just does NOT sit right. Ochako gets the upper hand, and then you just… negate that? You expect me to believe that Katsuki could generate an explosion at that magnitude, if nothing else? And what exactly does that do for him in the end? No one else tires him out for the remainder of the festival, which is pretty sketch.

(And yeah, I know I know "What part of her was frail?" but that's more of a retrospective thing than in the moment, coupled with the facf that it's never elaborated on again in any capacity, with Ochako or with someone else. It's a throwaway moment; a waste. Moving on…)

You really can't say much about the matchups with Eijiro and Fumikage. With Eijiro, it's an endurance match, and Katsuki apparently has infinite stamina and is on the attack. And he just… rushes him, which I'm pretty sure anyone else would do. Then with Fumikage, Dark Shadow is weak to light. Katsuki's explosions emit light on contact. Do the math.

And I am especially mad at Katsuki vs Shoto because one, he stays in place yet again at the start of the match, and two, he can apparently ignore his Quirk' weakness to low temperatures. In a gym uniform. Against a glacier the size of a building. Even with his power output, you don't see his explosions dampening in magnitude. It's obviously in his favor, which defeats any tension the fight could have had. It sucks, and in the long run, as a wise man once said, "Todoroki should have folded [his] ass."

Then we get to the Final Exams (ABOUT DAMN TIME) and… Katsuki hits Izuku for trying to cooperate, nearly gets knocked out once, and gets knocked out the second time around. He does not want to work with Izuku despite it being All Might, is petty enough to consider losing, and actively grumbles against working with Izuku. And all of his supposed self-preservation goes flying out the window when he's willing to try and beat All Might, leaving Izuku having to come and carry this boy out of the gate, which should not have let him pass.

Then there's the Training Camp attack. The second Izuku is mentioned, Katsuki decides to go AWOL, and while being kidnapped sucks, I am less sympathetic when you're boneheaded enough to help them capture you because you wanted to fight villains instead of getting to safety like the professionals recommended, all because of your one-sided hatefest with one of your classmates. Congrats, you played yourself.

Then we get to the Provisonal License Exam, which feels like a step in the right direction… until you realize this will boil over into Deku vs Kacchan 2, which will get both of them in trouble, which will give Katsuki insight into OFA while Izuku gets shunned by his classmates, and which will prevent Katsuki from the one ass beating that could have potentially taught him something. It's essentially the narrative covering his ass, and then he has the gall to be happy about other people potentially getting set back just because he was set back. Geez dude.

The Cultural Festival essentially undoes what the Remedial Course Arc accomplishes, having Katsuki look down on the rest of UA when he said NOT to look down on people earlier. And then his speech is still heavily antagonistic to the rest of the school, and to the idea of basic human decency and kindness in general. And if I'm being honest, that whole "he can play drums" feels like a big ass pull to keep him in the spotlight. At least the story brought back his ability to cook down the line.

The Joint Training Arc is just shoe horning in regards to Katsuki. It acts like his gearing up towards saving, but the circumstances are heavily, heavily in his favor, and not in a good way. I've already brought up how Katsuki won't get "saving" until the Endeavor Arc, and how here he's just doing it to show off, so I won't go into it here. Then apparently he gets to outwit a recommendation student 'cause why not? It makes him look more impressive than he actually is, even though he outright states he hasn't changed much if at all. Not to mention the narrative makes it sound like he was some sort of underdog, even though he only got kidnapped and didn't get his license. And I know those are big things, but not enough to warrant his victory feeling that triumphant. I'd probably buy it if he didn't win the Sports Festival or pass the Final Exam. Keep him in that slump for longer than you actually do, or it lessens the impact. And let's not forget, he might have been willing to help Izuku with Blackwhip via fisticuffs, but the second he realized he wasn't getting anything out of it, he noped out. And it's been what, almost 200 chapters since his "starting line?"

I don't have much to say during the Endeavor Arc (that was its own can of worms),  but as for the War Arc thus far… here's what I mean by "whiplash." The arc begins in Chapter 253. By Chapter 257, Katsuki will demonstrate how much he just does not give a f*** about Izuku's mastery over OFA so long as it looks like he'll come out on top. By Chapter 274, when Izuku's gotta split, it'll look like Katsuki has been thinking about some stuff, but by 275 he's gonna throw that out the window so he can attempt to one up Tomura and Izuku, and then he'll nearly get killed for it. And we won't know what exactly Katsuki is thinking until a flashback in Chapter 284 (which chronologically takes place after 257), where he has a conversation with All Might about his past with Izuku. Or at least the bullet points. If you're me, the start of the conversation feels less about Izuku and more so about his situation: his situation with OFA. And as much as I want to believe there was at least one good kernel in Katsuki that he was too stubborn to let out with Izuku, I feel like Katsuki only brings up him and his capabilities now because he got a Quirk. That's what put him on Katsuki's radar. That's what forced Katsuki to take notice of Izuku, what caused him to be unable to ignore his own weakness. Because of a Quirk. That's… borderline shallow, if not remarkably so.

And even when Katsuki is attempting to save Izuku in 285, his first thoughts are still on OFA. And even if we go by the line of thought that Katsuki is thinking "Even if OFA sucks, it's still Izuku's Quirk." And that's nice and all, but the flashback makes it seem like the Quirk is still All Might's Quirk as well. That all of Izuku's worth is hinged on the fact that he got a Quirk now and therefore can't be written off. Maybe he doesn't owe this to his accomplishments, but the narrative is terrible in its implications that Izuku wouldn't have gotten as much attention without it. At the end of the day, Katsuki is still associating Izuku's worth with his Quirk. And as much as I want to vaguely, vainly hope that this will change later on, I'm already at my limit

...and now that I've said my piece on almost the entire narrative thus far, let's shift gears to a few more tidbits in 285.

Again, the flashback. I think it's significant that they're shifting the focus briefly on middle school again. But you wanna know what sent me the wrong way? They didn't include the god forsaken suicide instigation. They can show Katsuki gloating. They can show Izuku up against a wall. They can even show a notebook and Izuku's face during the Sludge Villain rematch. But they can't show Izuku reacting with sorrow mixed with almost fury. That can't show Katsuki threatening him with a mere "What?" and the sparks on his palms. They can't show Izuku standing and crying, small and defeated.

"BUT HORI SAID HE WENT TO FAR WITH THAT SCENE!1!" Blah blah blah, doesn't change the fact that it still happened. Doesn't change the fact that it should be addressed, at any capacity. Doesn't change the fact that the story had the balls to recall middle school but couldn't bring itself to remember the one thing that could get its audience raising eyebrows.

But that's alright, it gave you the notebook; clearly it's done enough.

And maybe in another timeline, I could have let my jaw drop when Katsuki was hit and the chapter title was revealed. "Katsuki Bakugo: Rising" It would have been pretty damn powerful too.

...but with all the previous crap the narrative has pulled, it feels like more shoehorning. It feels like more Erasehead stepping in and shaming the audience. It feels like more All Might letting Katsuki in because he's not completely familiar with the finer details. It feels like more people. In narrative parroting that Katsuki changed when he does the bare minimum, as a hero or as a person. I can't treat this development legitimately, because so many other "legitimate" developments pulled a "psyche!" and headed out.

So, I'm done. I'm done with Katsuki, done with hoping his development will be done in a somewhat satisfying manner. Done with people telling me "it's actually good though!" like I'm blind and deaf or something, when I have enough brain cells to formulate my own opinions, and we both have enough brain cells to leave each other alone if we don't agree. Maybe when the series ends and we can all look at this in hindsight, and Katsuki has either found a way to redeem himself, or remain deplorable, I might talk about it then. But for now. I'm drawing the line. I might talk about what we've gotten up to this point, but everything past 285 I'm taking with a grain of salt. 'Cause I'm sick of hoping for something that obviously won't come through, and it's better for me and everyone involved if I just pack up and move on. BNHA isn't just Katsuki's story after all.

And if you made it to the end of all this… I hope you'll either respect my opinion, or respect my thought process. That's all I can ask.

-Crimson Lion (27 September 2020)

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

Let The Little Ones Sleep!

Master List 

Luka still remembered the day Juleka had pointed out the words to him. He was trying to play a chord on his small guitar when she had stopped him to point out the thing on his upper arm. He was around six years old when he took a good look at them. They were foreign and unfamiliar, written in another language that he did not recognize. 

He had gone to his mother, questioning her about the strange words on his upper arm.

“Those are the first words your soulmate will say to you.” His mother told him. The song he always heard, no felt, changing it’s tune to become less energetic and more soft.

“But I don't understand them, what do they say?” He asked. 

"Now where is the fun in me telling you that. Those words are written in English, which means that is the language your soulmate speaks. If you learn English then you can find out what it means and be able to talk to your soulmate when you do meet them." His mother explained. And the energeticness was back.

"How am I gonna learn English?" He questioned. 

"I will teach you! You and Juleka!" His mother proudly announced.

"Okay!" 

And that was how his lessons started. For the next 5 years his mother taught him and his sister English. And by the time he was 11 he was fluent in it. 

He now knew what the words on his upper arm said, and he could not be more confused. “I’ll go wake them up.” Wake who up? Why couldn’t his words be simple like Juleka’s? 

Speaking of Juleka’s words that brought on a new question, why were his words on his upper arm while Juleka’s were on her hand? And this time both him and Juleka went to ask their mother. Well, it was more like he asked and Juleka waited patiently behind him for the answer. 

“Such curious children you two are, never change. The place where the words are, is the first place your soulmate will touch you.” Her song turning slightly amused.

Curiosity peaked, Juleka spoke up, “Where are your words mom?” What are your words?” 

Their bright and energetic mother seemed to shrink at the questions. Her song turning sad and muted.

“Well my children, some people are born without soulmates. And I am one of those people.” 

“Oh.” Juleka mumbled at her answer. Her song turning slightly guilty before perking up again at her mother’s next words.

“There is nothing to be guilty of Juleka, it isn’t you fault I have no soulmate now is it?” Juleka shook her head, “ Exactly, but I don’t need a soulmate to be happy because I have you wonderful children. Now I think there are two wonderful children who need to do their homework. Hmm.” 

“Going right now mom.” Luka grabbed Juleka and started dragging her to their room so he could help her with math. Juleka didn’t protest. 

When he was fourteen and Juleka was twelve he got his first look into how exactly the bond worked. Not that at that moment he knew. 

Juleka had come home from her first day at collège a nervous, lovesick mess. He didn’t even need to listen to her song to know that. She had gone on and on about this one girl who was in her math, science, and English class, her eyes practically hearts. 

However when Luka asked if Juleka had talked to this mysterious girl, he got a stuttered out no. 

And this exact story played out for two more weeks. Juleka would gush something about Rose, he had finally found out her name, but had never gotten the courage to talk to her. It always ended with a sad Juleka and his only way of cheering her up was to play the happy, energetic song of their mother. 

It seemed that this would be her love life from now on, with Juleka too scared to do anything about her crush. But, thankfully, he was wrong about Juleka’s love life. 

Because on one fateful day when he went to pick her up he witnessed something magical. 

Juleka was walking down the steps towards him when what he could only describe as a ball of pink happiness and energy bounded up to her. She called out, “Hey your Juleka right?” and both Couffaines froze. 

But that didn’t stop the ball of pink positivity. She went right up to Juleka and grabbed her hand to shake it, and he could see the blush that was currently gracing her cheeks. He walked closer to the pair just in time to hear Juleka stutter out a, “Y-yeah that’s me.” 

If it was possible Rose’s smile got even wider at those words but before she could say anything was when it happened. Rose had to suddenly take a step back as bright purple and pink lights emerged from both their hands. Hovering in the air just long enough to create a heart shape before disappearing. All those around, including Luka and the two newfound soulmates, could only stare. 

“Wow you’re my soulmate!” Rose finally exclaimed, breaking the silence. 

“Oh I-I guess I am." Juleka mumbled. But Rose didn’t hear her, as she started pulling her away talking so fast that Juleka couldn’t understand her. Yet despite that being with her just felt right, so when she turned to lock eyes with her brother, she shook her head. That day Luka went home alone as Juleka got to know her soulmate. 

And that was his first and only look at how a soulbond worked. While it was definitely memorable and something he would never forget, soulmates were not his priority. 

As seen by his crush on Marinette, who was definitely not his soulmate. But despite knowing they could never be together, his heart always hoped. And when she did get together with her soulmate, he couldn’t be happier, because one of his best friends was happy. Even if the pairing was unexpected, he honestly had no idea that Marinette and Kagami would be soulmates but their songs work well together so he should’ve expected it.

However lately he had been feeling weird. The songs that he heard from every person became so much louder than usual, he could hear every mood change, every spark of surprise, happiness, sadness, fear from all those around him. It was starting to get overwhelming and he didn’t know why. This had never happened before. 

It all reached a high when he got introduced to one Damian Wayne, who was staying at Chloe’s father’s hotel and Chloe had to show around Paris. Well sorta introduced. He was having a major headache that doubled when he got inside the hotel and Chloe only said a quick Damian meet Luka, Luka meet Damian, before taking off with Damian to show him something he couldn’t recall. 

He went to their usual room in the hotel they would hang out in, closed all the blinds, and took a nap, hoping that his headache would go away with sleep. 

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right. He woke up but his headache still hadn’t fully gone away, yet it was still much better than it had been before. He grabbed a water bottle from the secret fridge and slowly drank from it as he waited for his friends to return. 

He didn’t have to wait long as soon the door to the room burst open and in walked his friends, including Damian. Suddenly his headache came back full force but he didn’t let it show. The last thing he needed was his friends worrying about him while they were trying to have fun with Damian. 

Time quickly passed and it was hard for him to keep up with everything that was going on, but as the day got later, one by one his friends started falling asleep. Until it was only him and Damian awake. Neither wanted to start the conversation, so for a solid hour awkward silence flooded the room. 

It seemed that Damian was starting to get tired of the silence as he moved to go past Luka to the others. However, what he said as he was about to pass Luka almost had him frozen, almost. "I'll go wake them up." In English, the exact words that were on his upper arm.

Luka's eyes widened in shock from three things. The first was that this guy was his soulmate. The second was that the major headache he had been having was probably the result of his soulmate being here and that must have interfered with his ability to hear people’s songs. The third was that Damian was about to evoke the wrath of his friends when they're woken up from their sleep. Not wanting to have another incident like that occur again he stepped into Damian’s path. 

“No, let the little ones sleep.” Right as he said those words Damian moved to push past him, touching his upper arm in the process. However the second Damian did bump into him he seemed to come to his own conclusion as he suddenly jumped back right as blue and green burst from where they touched. Just like he remembered from all those years ago the colors hovered in the air for a minute, just long enough to create a heart before disappearing. 

The others seemed to remain undisturbed in their sleep as Luka and Damian stared at each other with wide eyes. Finally Damian got the courage to speak up. 

-

Damian really didn’t know what to think. The words “let the little ones sleep” had haunted him for his whole life. In the league having a soulmate meant having a weakness, and having any weaknesses would get him killed. So he had it drilled into his head from birth that the second he met his soulmate he was to kill them immediately. 

Of course he really didn’t want to, the stories his mother told him in secret of how special soulmates were wanted him to meet his and not kill them. But not killing his soulmate would be seen as a betrayal to the league, which would lead to serious consequences. 

So he kept quiet about his soulmate, even when he was permanently sent to live with his father. The only reason they knew was because he had been working out in the batcave with a tank top on and Dick had seen the words on his upper arm. And Dick being Dick proceeded to tell the whole family about what he had discovered. Which resulted in a lot of teasing about his soulmate and what their first words to him would be. 

After a while the teasing died down and he honestly forgot that he had a soulmate. He had more important things to prioritize anyways. Like how he was in Paris to oversee if there was any damage left from when the magical terrorist Hawkmoth had been defeated a few months ago. His father had wanted to come to but he had things he needed to take care of in Gotham so he was there alone. Which wasn’t that bad in his opinion, it meant he could get more done, especially since his siblings weren’t here. 

Unfortunately his father had contacted the mayor of Paris and asked him to make sure that he ‘didn’t get in any trouble’. And so the mayor had his daughter follow show him around Paris. 

She also had her friends tag along with her on their tour of Paris but there was one friend in particular that he couldn’t get off his mind. Luka, Bourgeois had introduced him as, he didn’t look well and it seemed she knew that as she didn’t push for handshakes or proper greetings like she did with her other friends. 

Luka had walked off to what was apparently their hangout room as Bourgeois and all of her other friends left the hotel and gave him a tour of Paris. It didn't take nearly as long as he thought it would since they skipped over big tourist attractions and took him to what they called "local treasures". But the weirdest part was that he could get his mind off if Luka, and that frustrated him to no end. He barely knew the guy so why was he so infatuated with him.

They returned to the hotel to find Luka looked a little better, but that didn't stop his friends and him from worrying. There seemed to be several conversations going at once and Damian couldn’t keep up with all of them, so he tried his best to keep up with a few. However, something he noticed was that despite Luka keeping a smile on his face and nodding along to whatever conversation he was a part of, all the others including him would constantly cast him worried glances that he seemed to not notice. 

As the day turned to night, one by one, more of the group fell asleep. Soon it was only him and Luka left awake and neither stepped up to break the awkward silence. It irritated Damian to no end, even though he liked silence, he did not like this type of silence. But it seemed that neither him nor Luka was going to be talking anytime soon, an hour had already passed, so he decided that it would be best to wake up one of his friends. His best bet would probably be the optimistic one, Marinette.

Unfortunately in his thinking he had reverted back to English when he said, "I'll go wake them up." Instead of in French so Luka could understand. Out of the corner of his eye he was pretty sure he saw Luka's eyes widen in what appeared to be shock, but he wasn’t too sure. 

However a second later Luka tried to block his path also saying in English, “No, let the little ones sleep.” The exact words on his upper arm. 

His mind registered this discovery and he realized that must have been why Luka’s eyes had widened. However his body was already in the motion of walking and did not register that piece of information so he ended up bumping into Luka. Specifically his upper arm with Luka’s upper arm. The realization caused him to jump back in shock right as blue and green lights emerged from both their upper arms and formed a heart in between them.

They both stared at each other with wide eyes in complete silence before he finally got the courage to speak up. “I-” Curse his luck or thank it, Bourgeois interrupted him before he could get a sentence out.

“Ooooh are you guys soulmates?” She questioned, seeming much more awake than she should. 

“What’s going on?” Marinette asked with a yawn, her eyes fighting to stay open.

“It seems that Mr. Frowny Face and blueberry boy are soulmates.” Alix spoke up from her spot on the couch.

“Wow, didn't see that coming.” Nino said sarcastically as he slid Alix twenty euros. 

Almost everyone slid Alix and Bourgeois various amounts of money, the only ones that didn’t were the ones that didn’t take the bet. Aka those who knew better than to bet with Alix. As Kim slid his thirty euros he grumbled something along the lines of “Stupid time traveling bunny seeing the future” but Damian was more shocked at the fact they betted on him and Luka being soulmates. Despite only having one interaction before this. Luka, on the other hand, seemed much more calm and only shook his head at their antics. 

“Would you prefer if we gave you boys some privacy?” Marinette, the only one besides Kagami that didn’t bet asked. 

Damian and Luka exchanged a glance before Luka answered, “That would be nice.”

Marinette and Kagami dragged the others out of the room, with Marinette instructing Kim to pick up Rose and bring her to wherever they were going since she didn’t want to wake the girl up. Something about her being the baby of the group and how the baby is always allowed to sleep. No one objected to that so he assumed that was normal, or maybe no one objected because of Juleka giving everyone death glares.

Once everyone had left Damian turned to Luka, “So we’re soulmates.” He stated.

“We are.” Luka replied. Both stayed silent once again, Damian wasn’t good with talking about this kinda stuff and Luka was just as clueless about what to do. 

“How long are you going to be in Paris?” Luka asked, his fingers silently twitching and he wished now more than ever that he could play his guitar to relieve some of the stress he felt. He did not think that talking to your soulmate was supposed to be this stressful. 

“Another week,” He instantly answered, but at seeing the slight frown on his soulmate’s face he quickly added, “But I can always ask my father for more time. I am sure he would understand.”

“That would be nice but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

Damian was about to reply but he stopped himself for a second to think, he would never hear the end of it from his siblings if he asked for Luka to come back to Gotham with him. Plus Gotham was not the best place to bring one’s newfound soulmate. His mind decided he replied, “No I want to get to know you.” 

Luka tried and failed to hide his smile at his soulmate’s words. That is until he came to a quick realization, “I don’t know your full name, we haven’t even had a proper introduction.”

Damian was surprised by that as well, he went back through their interactions and realized that Luka was right. Then he realized that he never got the full names of any of Bourgeois’s friends. He had been referring to them all by their first names...he couldn’t ever let his family find out about that. 

Breaking him out of his thought process was Luka sticking his hand out to him as he properly introduced himself, “Luka Couffaine.” 

Damian took his hand and shook it as he introduced himself, “Damian Wayne.”

“Wait Wayne as in Bruce Wayne? The billionaire?” Luka stared at him curiously. 

“Yes.” Damian hesitantly answered. 

“No wonder Chloe’s been acting so weird, a billionaire’s kid is staying at the hotel.” 

“HEY I DON’T ACT WEIRD!” Someone, definitely Chloe, shouted from the other side of the door. 

“Have they been listening this whole time?” Damian questioned Luka, he seemed more likely to know. 

“Probably,” He answered as he walked over and opened the door. All of the friends that had previously left the room to give them privacy fell when the door opened, most of them having the decency to look a little guilty for eavesdropping. Luka fondly smiled at them before turning back to him and stating, “Welcome to your week, or longer, in Paris.” 

Damian, strangely, found himself smiling back at him. “Can’t wait.” 

Alix, the first to have gotten up, looked between the soulmates who were currently staring at each other with lovesick grins and fake gagged, “Great another lovey dovey couple.” Juleka and Rose both threw pillows at her, while the others laughed. Yeah, Damian didn’t think it would be so bad.

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

So this is my last contribution to the trope tussle! I hope everyone enjoyed the 3 fics I put out! Hopefully for the next event I will be able to post more works because school will be less of a pain! 

[volleychumps]

Melodies. -Yamaguchi Tadashi-

 One of the works I’ve wanted to do of my own accord, I promise I’ll be back to answering requests soon haha! Please enjoy this fic of my favorite freckled server, he needs all the love<3 Turns into kind of a song fic at the end! 

Set in a college AU-  (warnings: mild swearing)

WordCount: 2766

the one in which the shy freckled boy discovers a playlist with his name as the title on his best friend’s phone

The first day of college calculus had started off absolutely horrendous. 

Your anxiety had continued bubbling up immensely as you laid wide awake in your bed the night before, the fearful result being you waking up a good six minutes after you were supposed to be in class, freshly prepared and showered with a caffienated drink in hand. 

Only you weren’t. 

So that’s how you stumbled into class a solid fifteen minutes late, hair thrown up in some sort of messy knot accompanied by a simple outfit of leggings (you slept in those), and a hoodie that was much too massive for your figure. To make matters worse, along with the pointed stare from your professor and the other near a hundred, most of the seats seemed to be filled at full glance. You withold the urge to tug at your hair and kick the wall. Your worst expectations had become a reality. 

“Nice of you to join us, Miss...L/N, is it? You’re the only one I wasn’t able to call out from the roster, and I usually do not take attendance. It’s the first day of the semester, in case you forgot. “ 

You suck air through your teeth before nodding once, ignoring the searing heat on your cheeks as a few chuckles chorused through the large group of students. 

“Take your seat. And don’t bother coming next time at all if you’re going to interrupt my lecture.” 

You nod once again before awkwardly walking up the steps, feeling all eyes on you as you willed yourself to get through the nightmarish situation. So he was one of those.

 The seats were full, to your dismay, and you felt heat rise to your eyes as you wished the professor would continue teaching, to get the attention off of you. 

“When you’re ready, Miss L/N.” 

Every cell in your body urged you to get out of there until by some stroke of luck, you saw movement in the scarily still classroom. A freckled boy had been waving his hand just high enough for you to see it, pointing downwards a bit shyly to signal the seat next to him was free. 

A rush of relief washes over you as you make a beeline over, plopping down in the offered shared desk as the professor finally begins to speak again. You had been saved, your savior moving his bag over some more to give you more room. 

“I promise I don’t usually look like this.” You whisper, getting your notebook and materials out. “But thank you sooo much, you don’t even know how close I was to crying.” 

“D-Don’t mention it.” The freckled boy whispers back, fiddling with his pen as you realized how shy he seemed, knowing that almost everyone on the first day of semester wanted friends, the shy ones being too scared to take the first step. Your eyes brightened at his phone screen, seeing a familiar song light it up before nudging him by the shoulder, your professor’s words of a syllabus becoming background noise as he looks towards you a second time, eyes kind in case you needed anything. 

“A man with taste, I see.” You grin, and the dark haired boy blushes before brushing some of his hair out of his face. 

“You listen to lovelytheband?” 

“Yamaguchi. L/N.” You both straighten immediately, ‘Yamaguchi’ turning a darker shade of red as he stands at attention, bowing immediately as you sat awkwardly next to his aplogetic figure. The professor sends you a scolding look as you shrink down in your seat, hating college already as he resumes class once again, figuring you had been placed on the bottom of his spectrum of students. 

However, you take just one more chance, scribbling on the corner of the now embarrassed boy’s syllabus with a small, secretive smile as the red ink appears on paper. 

Yamaguchi, was it?

Yamaguchi’s lips quirk up the slightest bit at the childish antic of writing notes to each other before blue ink touches below your note, red fading from his cheeks and taking on a pink hue. 

Yes. L/N-san?

All previous embarrassment forgotten, you figure all the awful events leading up to meeting your first friend had been worth it. 

Call me Y/N. 

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

“Tadashi, I don’t want to go! He’s hated me since day one, and you know it.” 

“Y/N, I already bought your coffee, don’t waste it please.” Yamaguchi sighs, shrugging his own bag off before placing it on your bed, taking a seat on the edge of it as you talk to him through your bathroom door. The first year of college seemed to whizz by in a flash, most memories being with the awkward, freckled kid that had soon become your closest friend seeing as you had been each other’s first.

“You’ve made it through the entirety of the semester, right? You’re going to pass this final.” 

“Shut up, you’re smart, you don’t get an opinion!” You pout, emerging from your bathroom in jeans and a bra as Yamaguchi reddens, turning immediately to face the wall respectfully as you withold a giggle, knowing Yamaguchi had seen a lot more than that after helping you back to your dorm after nights of getting wasted at your high school friend’s fraternity house. Bokuto and Kuroo pretty much got shit-faced every weekend. 

“We studied-” 

“You studied, Tadashi. I poked the seeds out of strawberries with a toothpick half the time.” You correct, braiding your hair back when fully dressed. “You can look now, Mr. Purity, I won’t corrupt you.”

Yamaguchi ruffles your hair, bending slightly to match your height as he stands from your bed, a key to your dorm dangling from his bike keys. “You’ve got this, alright? Don’t doubt yourself, you were at least doing math when counting the seeds-” 

You snatch your coffee as Yamaguchi chuckles, following you out of your dorm as you ensure the halls are mostly empty, not needing your RA to scold you for bringing Yamaguchi in here again, even after seeing he was harmless. Yamaguchi takes your phone and keys, your hands full from the beverage and your bag as you meet your other two friends in the morning sun. 

“Oh look. The fuckbuddies who apparently don’t fuck are here.” 

“Well hello to you too, Tsukishima.”

 You blink, unfazed as Yamaguchi blushes at the cynical blonde’s crude language, Sugawara swatting the blonde’s back as Tsukishima simply shrugs in reply. 

“Are we meeting up with Kuroo and the others after finals are over?” You grin excitedly as Suga clicks his tongue, flicking your forehead in a parental like way as you pout, Yamaguchi chuckling from alongside you. 

“How about we take our Calculus final first, and then you can focus on the party.” 

“Yes, mother of mine.” 

You dodge the next flick to the forehead as Yamaguchi puts a single hand on your shoulder, reading something on his phone as his eyes suddenly widen. “Crap! Last minute turn of events, we’re getting put into two separate rooms according to our last names! Y/N, you and Suga’s room is farther out!”

Suga groans, tugging your forearm along as you share in that groan. “So we have what, eight minutes to get somewhere all the way across campus?” 

“If we run, we’ll make it!” You exclaim, beginning to drag Suga with you as you break into a run, offering Yamaguchi a bright smile before doing so and promptly flicking Tsukishima off, who responds in the same fashion without missing a beat. 

“Wait, Y/N your phone-!” 

“Keep it! Get it back to me after I fail this test! Love you Tadashi!” 

“Y-Yeah, l-love you too!” 

“Have fun failing!” 

“I took notes on how to do it from you, Kei, don’t worry!” 

Tsukishima rolls his eyes as yours and Suga’s figures fade into the distance, your coffee splashing within it’s cup as Suga laughed at how easily tired you seemed. Golden brown eyes examine his friend, noting how Yamaguchi had a far off look in his eyes as your laughter died down in volume the further you got, soft smile set on his lips that was almost sad. 

“If you like her, just tell her.” Tsukishima had continued walking casually as Yamaguchi chokes on air at the sudden heavy words hurled in his direction. 

“H-Huh?” 

“Don’t even bother trying to hide it. All of us guessed it, and you just confirmed it with that reaction.” Tsukishima shrugs as Yamaguchi races to his side, heart beating in his ears as his shoulders seemed to sink in defeat, almost as if he had been fighting a losing battle yet still wanted to be on the frontlines. 

“Y/N’s way too good for me.” Yamaguchi finally said as the pair lucky enough to walk the normal distance continued their stroll to class. “I’m happy just...being close to her. I don’t need anything more.” 

“Hm. Oh really?” The blonde yawns, carelessness in his tone. “Even if someone else wants to be even closer?” 

Tsukishima smirks a little at the lack of reply as the exam building comes into view before patting Yamaguchi once on the back, done stirring up the sensitive boy’s emotions.

“Definitely not the right time to get your head stuck with that dumbass. You coming?” 

“Y-Yeah, just let me turn off my phone-” 

“Better hurry up.” 

Tsukishima’s continued steps sounded in Yamaguchi’s ears as he hurriedly turned on and swiped open his phone, heart dropping when realizing he had accidentally grabbed yours. Going to turn it off after seeing it open to your music application, something else catches his eye. 

Playlists: 

Issa Vibe

At least try to study, dumb hoe

Shit Kuroo wants me to listen to (don’t) 

Yamaguchi Tadashi:)

Red spread across freckled cheeks before he finds himself sending the playlist to himself, deleting the message afterwards as if he was in a trance before turning off your phone, wanting nothing more than to sit back and listen to the music inside the playlist named after him. Guilt in his chest, he steps into the building, head spinning with something that was definitely not calculus.

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

“Bokutoooo!!” 

“Y/N!” 

“Wow, well fuck me then I guess.” 

You laugh out loud as you enter the fraternity house Bokuto and Kuroo resided in for the end of semester party, throwing yourself into your high school friend’s arms after not seeing Bokuto for awhile. Kuroo scoffs when you go to hug him next, pretending not to enjoy it as he scolds you for how short your skirt is. 

“Where’s Tsukki and Yama?” You question over the music as Bokuto grins, jutting a thumb backwards where Daichi and Suga were playing an intense game of beer pong against Tsukishima and Akaashi.

“I saw your freckled pet go upstairs earlier.” Kuroo grins as you feel a twinge in your chest. 

“Like with a girl?” 

“Have you met the kid? No way, he said something about wanting to lie down and he’s in Kenma’s room right now.”

You nod your head thanks, suddenly serious as Bokuto whoops childishly, causing you to roll your eyes as Suga sends you a questioning, overprotective stare on why you were going up the stairs of a frat house. You mouth Yamaguchi, before waving back to Daichi with a bright grin. 

“Go get your boy, Y/N!” 

“Akaashi, please scold him-” 

“On it. Kenma’s room is on the left by the way.” 

The many doors were confusing, accidentally opening one to Oikawa Tooru’s (who coaxed you to come in, what a tool), one to Terushima Yuuji’s (same thing, god you hated frat houses), and finally to Kenma’s, one of the few normal ones living in the house mainly because of Kuroo. You had opened the door right as Kenma had been planning to leave, and he nods to you once before glancing behind him to your best friend’s figure laying on his bed on his back, eyes closed with a pair of earbuds in. 

“He asked to borrow a pair of headphones and he’s been like that for awhile. Those are sound-cancelling, so do with that information what you will.” 

You pout, knowing Kuroo probably told Kenma about how much of a crackhead you were sometimes. “Aw, where’s the faith?” 

“Apparently none, with you.” Kenma cracks a small smile in response before leaving the room, turning back once to leave some parting words.  

“If you’re planning on doing anything, do it in Kuroo’s room, not mine.” 

Before you can deny that suggestion, Kenma’s already closing the door behind him as you groan and roll your eyes, wondering why everyone seemed to have the two of you figured out when in reality,

 you were just friends-

nothing more. 

You turn your attention to your best friend, careful not to make any sudden noise before realizing Yamaguchi was intensely concentrated on what he was listening to. Your eyes trace over his features, from the hands that helped you at your call, to the spread of the even freckles that were reddened half the time, and even to the length of his eyelashes, wanting nothing more than to lay next to him. You stop yourself, shaking your head- 

nothing less.

Just like that first day in class, you tap on the screen to see what music would brighten his phone screen and keep him in such a trance.

The lump forms in your throat before you can stop it, wondering how the hell he suddenly developed a taste for mxmtoon’s Falling for U, remembering how when you showed him that artist, he had claimed it wasn’t for him. 

So...? 

Fearfully, you swipe into his phone to see your off-chance suspicions had been correct as you sit on the edge of the bed hastily, startling Yamaguchi to sit up from his laying position, panicked. He relaxes slightly when seeing you, only to panic again when he sees his brightened phone screen. 

“U-Um, Y/N, I-” 

You stand, eyes downcast as you brush your skirt off, walking towards the door as a fake laugh cuts his stuttered explanations off, heart pounding in your ears. 

“H-Haha! Uh, I didn’t mean to wake you, you just looked so peaceful.” 

“Y-Y/N!” 

Your pace quickens.

“I’ll see you downstairs, okay? They have a really cool cereal dispenser and I want some cereal all of a sudden-” 

“Y/N-!�� 

You hear the creak of the bed, signalling he was to his feet as you begin to pull open the door.  

“Hey, how was the exam by the-?” 

“Y/N.” 

You take a shaky breath when Yamaguchi’s arm extends, hand closing the door shut once again as you stand there, noticing the slight tremble of Yamaguchi’s arm before turning, pressing your back against the door as one of the freckled boy’s arms trap you in, proximity so close you can feel each other’s breaths. 

Yamaguchi takes one of the earbuds, putting one in your ear as the lyrics sound in your ears, and you look away, hearing the familiar tune as Yamaguchi takes the other one, slowly as to not startle you.

(IT’S CUTER IF YOU LISTEN TO IT: Falling For U- mxmtoon)

But I can't help it I'm falling for you And I can't quit it 'Cause I'm stuck on you

Your eyes brim with unshed tears before you can stop them, feeling Yamaguchi’s hand cup your cheek gently, droplets falling onto his knuckles.

And it might be pathetic and you might be skeptical But I just want to be with you Please tell me, boy

Fear filled your chest, the secret you tried so desperately hard to keep locked away becoming exposed without your knowledge. You were scared of how the boy you loved would react, how would Yamaguchi look at you after knowing you had kept it a secret for the sake of the friendship you cherished so?

Can you get a clue? Or come through 'cause I just want to be with you

“Tadashi.” You whisper, seeing a whole other person from the shy, freckled boy with the blue ink on your first day of class as Yamaguchi smiles softly, nodding once. 

I'm scared... Of telling you how I feel

“I love you.” 

Maybe It's better If I just try to conceal The truth

“Y/N L/N.” 

For me And for you

“I’m pretty sure I loved you first.”

And then from the close proximity, the distance was closed, a hand slipping into yours tightly as the wetness on your cheeks become unnoticeable, Yamaguchi Tadashi kissing you with a gentless so sweet you could melt. 

[star-spangledstud]

SAVE THE DAY

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary:  Peter wants to quit being Spider-Man, but the reader needs saving.

Word Count: 3600-ish.

Warnings: mentions of violence/alcoholism and abuse/hostage situation. Angst with fluffy ending.

A/N: Let’s just pretend Peter didn’t turn into dust during IW. Also, this has a dark theme? I wrote this a while ago and figured I’d post it. It’s pretty bad, sorry. 

Peter Parker is sick and tired of being Spider-Man. 

Between hardly getting any sleep and his grades faltering miserably because of his nightly escapades, the fact that half of his friends died just three weeks ago doesn’t exactly help his case. He’s tired of putting on the suit, tired of scouring the streets in the dark of night, tired of waiting for crimes to happen when he really should be studying. 

Peter lost some of the people he looked up to the most, and ever since he returned home, he hasn’t been able to stop feeling horrendously guilty over the fact that he wasn’t able to save them. He misses his friends, but mostly, he misses his coworkers, half of whom had disappeared into dust. What’s the point of being Spider-Man when you can’t even save the ones you hold dear to your heart?

Peter is seated behind his desk, black ink pen tightly gripped between his clammy fingers. His left palm is stuck under his chin, and his eyes, droopy and fluttery, shift between the clock hanging above the door towards the back of the classroom. His hazel orbs scan everything from the green linoleum floors to the yellow-stained ceiling with its flickering lights. Empty seats line the back walls, desks and chairs stacked on top of each other in a sick manner.

Desks that were once filled with students now sat empty to collect dust and termites. Most of the kids that vanished didn’t even know who Thanos was or what his intentions were. It isn’t fair, Peter thinks as he grips his pen and clenches his jaw. They didn’t deserve to die. 

Several of Peter’s classes have been postponed until further notice due to the sudden lack of staff and student body. Of course, Mr. Brown hadn’t vanished, and so, Peter is sitting in his Tuesday morning math class with barely over a dozen other kids. Each one of them looks just as sad, confused and most of all defeated as Peter does, because most of them have lost multiple family members and friends in the blink of an eye without any hope of bringing them back. 

James from physics has lost both his parents. Samantha from biology lost only one, but her grandparents as well. Francis from literature didn’t have parents even before the Snap, but lived with her aunt and uncle who both disappeared. The gist of it is clear; grief, hurt and anger surrounds the school like a thick, impenetrable blanket of fire from which nobody can escape and for a moment, Peter doesn’t know on which side of the Snap he’d rather be. 

The seconds on the clock tick by agonizingly slowly. Mr. Brown knows nobody in his class gives a shit about potentially solving mathematical problems anymore, but life must go at the end of the day and until anyone has any better ideas, the only thing the school board knows to do is to keep teaching classes to whoever decides to show up. To be fair, even though it’s nothing like how it used to be, school remains the only constant in most of these kids’ lives. 

Doubt continues to plague Peter’s cloudy mind as the day progresses. He’s already stuffed his suit in Ned’s locker - he wouldn’t be needing the space anymore anyway. The mere thought of his best friend vanishing into thin air made his fist curl and his eyebrows twitch in anger and every waking moment of his existence he hates himself for not being able to help him make it through the Snap. Then again, maybe it was for the best. 

Being alive suddenly didn’t seem like such a great thing anymore with the world in complete shambles. 

After class is over, most of the students slowly drag their feet towards the library or the cafeteria. With so many postponed classes, study hours are given left and right until the board has time to conjure a new schedule. Peter slings his backpack over his shoulder and, while dragging his feet to the library, absentmindedly reaches his phone from his back pocket. The latest iPhone he was given by Tony now feels alien in his hand, especially since half of his contacts don’t exist anymore. The Snap chat streak he used to have with Ned died weeks ago, and the last message Peter sent him still sits in Ned’s inbox marked as ‘unread’. Peter grips the device and bites his lip. He has to stop himself from throwing it out of the window all together. Looking at it has become unbearable. 

Just as he’s about to shove it back deep inside his pocket, it vibrates. He thinks it’s just his imagination at first, but when his hand shakes for the second time, he lifts up the phone with the thumping of his heart. 

It’s you, your name displayed as the caller ID across the screen, followed by blue and red heart emojis. You picked those out yourself. 

“What’s up?” he asks after picking up, “where are you? You have no idea how boring math is without you.” 

When the line momentarily remains silent on your end, Peter shrugs. You’ve pocket-dialed him before so it doesn’t immediately strike him as odd, and when he calls your name and doesn’t receive a response, he hangs up, finally able to place the phone in his pocket where he hopes it will remain forever. 

But it doesn’t remain there forever, because less than a minute later, it rings again, once more flashing your name across the screen for his eyes to see. His groans, but picks up anyway as he stands in front of the library entrance. 

“Y/N?” He asks, holding the device tightly to his ear just in case he can hear you in the distance. 

“No,” you whisper finally, “he’s going to kill a bunch of people, P.” 

Peter’s blood runs cold when the call is ended once again. He wastes no time sprinting towards Ned’s old locker and holds his breath when he dashes through the empty hallways. Before he gets there, he calls you back. You don’t answer. 

Peter sneaks the costume into his backpack and changes into it in the empty bathroom near the physics lab. He stuffs his backpack inside the air vent and dials your number again. With his phone stuck tightly against his ear, he jumps out of the window.

You are one of the only people Peter still has left and vice versa. The two of you have been friends for ages, sharing nearly every class and you, him and Ned always sit together for lunch. The three of you would hang out together after school as well; you saw movies together and played video games on the weekends. You texted each other constantly. 

The Snap wiped out nearly your entire family. Your mother, little brother and both of your grandparents and your aunt and uncle on both sides. You were left with nobody but your step-father.

Peter knows the two of you don’t get along. The man drinks too much, stays out too late even during the week and sometimes, he doesn’t even come home for days. Your mother always welcomed him back with open arms and chose to ignore the empty bottles of vodka and whiskey in the trash. She ignored the perfume on his clothes and his behavior towards you and stayed with him, a man so unstable he couldn’t hold jobs longer than a few months at a time. Her blindness to his shenanigans always angered Peter, because the relationship between your mother and step-father affected you in more ways than you cared to admit.

He knows you wish it was him who died instead of your mom and frankly, Peter wishes the same. He never liked the guy.  

Peter is extremely worried about you, because he knows the drinking has doubled since your mom died. You’ve been skipping school to take care of the household and you know very well how Peter feels about your step-father’s lack of participation in and around the home. He started taking you away from your house whenever he could find the time and you’d even met Tony Stark the first time Peter took you to the tower. It surprised Peter to see how well the two of you got along, but then again, computer science is your favorite subject in school so it’s something the two of you could bond over. Well, it used to be anyway, because the class got dropped after the teacher and eight of his students got lost in the Snap. 

Peter’s heart rams against his rib cage when you finally answer the phone. In the background, he can hear people screaming and shouting. 

“Y/N? Where the hell are you?” He asks, using his webs to sling himself from building to building to avoid being seen in broad daylight. 

“Central bank,” you whisper under shaky breaths, “gun. Can’t talk.” 

The line goes dead once again, and Peter immediately changes direction. 

You knew something was wrong when Hank offered to drive you to school this morning, because he’d never volunteered to take you anywhere before and you doubted he would start now. The red rims around his dull, yellow eyes made you decline his proposal at first but he insisted, and in fear of getting hurt by a man nearly twice your size, you finally agreed to have him drive you to school. You weren’t in any kind of mood to argue with him, and you sure as hell didn’t want to provoke him. Besides, the drive would only take ten minutes, while walking took you nearly half an hour, so you couldn’t exactly complain. 

It saddened you to see him like this. The two of you never really got along, but at least a small part of you hoped that the shared loss of your mom and little brother would bring you some type of twisted companionship, something dark to bond over. You wanted to ask him if Peter could stay over for dinner, but the dark sweat stains on his creme t-shirt and his iron grip on the wheel made you stay quiet. 

Hank never liked talking when he had a hangover. Talking too much always made him angry, and you don’t like seeing him pissed off. Granted, the only times he’d physically hurt you were when he was so drunk he couldn’t even tell you his own name, but you still fear him even now, afraid that one day he might actually do something he can never take back. With this knowledge, you typically stick to avoiding him on mornings after he’s had too much to drink. Nowadays though, it’s all he does. 

Even when he deviates from the usual route to your school, you bite your tongue in fear of pissing him off. Perhaps, you think, he’s forgotten the location of your school or maybe he’s too hungover to think straight and the entire time, you expect him to turn around. He doesn’t, but wen he finally does stop, he does so in front of Central Bank. 

You finally dare to speak up, asking him quietly what the two of you are doing there and fully expect him to sneer at you, to spit out that he’s only going to withdrawal money from your mother’s account again so he can support his bad habits, but instead of answering, he leaves you in the car and reaches for the trunk. 

“What are you doing?!” You ask fearfully when he rips open your door and grabs a fistful of your hair. 

“Shut up and don’t make a sound, got it?” 

He pulls your head towards the ground when he walks, so the only thing you can see is the beat up sneakers on his feet and the terrifying barrel of a semi-automatic weapon. There’s no security guard near the entrance, but you don’t have enough time to wonder where he might be, because Hank’s already crossed the threshold and he’s shouting like mad when you realize what the hell is going on.  

"Everybody sit the fuck down on the ground or I'll kill every last of one you!" 

Screams erupt from every corner, and as Hank angrily waves the gun around in an attempt to scare the customers and bank personnel, people left and right begin to duck behind chairs, desks and in booths. You can hear a baby crying somewhere nearby, and your palms are sweating and shaky when you curl them into fists. You’ve always known he’s crazy, but even for him, this is fucking insane.

"Hank, what the fuck are you doing?" You scream, feeling the pressure of his grip on your neck sting like a hot iron.

"Shut up, before I shut you up myself. Don't make a god damn sound, you hear me? That goes for all of you!" 

The next hour is a complete blur. Shots are fired into cream-colored walls, demands are made on stolen cellphones and most of all, you and everybody else inside is scared shitless. Hank forces you to sit in of the empty chair behind counter three, the one where people come to apply for loans. He continues to keep the gun pointed mostly at you - the hostage he uses to negotiate his demands. You called Peter when his back was turned to you, but couldn’t speak at first out of pure terror of being seen or heard. 

Outside, flashing red and blue lights draw near, and the sound of multiple helicopters rounding the perimeter nearly drowns out the sound of Hank’s screeching voice when one of the clerks makes an unexpected move. You’ve never seen him this angry and doubt you’ll ever see it again. Practically all bank transfers are conducted digitally nowadays, most banks using shares on the stock market to finance their customer’s savings accounts. Sure, there’s physical money inside, but none of the desk clerks have access to the vault where they keep the big bucks. How Hank didn’t realize this is a mystery to you. 

You’re starting to realize time is running out when SWAT arrives with a hostage negotiator. Peter can feel his heart nearly exploding inside his chest when he thinks of you as he slings his way across the city. He’s never run faster across rooftops, but he doesn’t take a moment to breathe until he makes it there. 

It doesn’t take him very long to sneak inside through one of the top floor’s open windows. Peter ignores the news camera’ that zoom in on him while he climbs inside, swallowing thickly at the knowledge that Tony’ll probably be pissed off later. 

He jumps down the staircase, swinging from left to right and balancing on the barricades until he reaches the first floor of the old building. Directly beneath him, he can hear the commotion and when he finally finds an air vent in one of the break rooms, he uses his webs to fling himself up and inside. His phone vibrates again when he’s slowly crawling his way through the dusty vents, but he doesn’t answer, because he can see you sitting in your chair shaking like a leaf when he finally reaches one of the vents that lead to the main entrance. 

He notices your step-father walking anxiously in circles, his eyes wildly darting across the entire ground floor to make sure nobody tried to take him down. He needs money now that his source of income has died and the amount of debt he finds himself in leads him to believe this is the only way to do it. 

Peter quickly and quietly unscrews the roster that allows fresh air to distribute throughout the ground floor and silently moves it to the side. 

Look up. 

He quickly texts you, but doesn’t realize your phone might make a sound until he’s already pressed send. He releases a deep breath when you check the message, and begin to search around the ceiling with a worried frown on your face until your finally eyes land on him halfway hidden in the darkness. 

You sigh inaudibly but tremble when the gun goes off three times and Hank begins to shout at a mother and her crying baby. 

“I'm going to get you out," Peter mouths at you after pushing up his mask you you can see his lips. 

He has to get the gun away from Hank, who is now pacing back and forth on the other side of the wall. With one swift motion, Peter drops down from the vent with his finger pushed against his mask to let the people know to keep quiet. He slides behind your chair and gives your hand a tight squeeze before disappearing just in time to see the barrel of the gun followed by Hank. 

Sweat drips down the man’s face and back, veins popping angrily in his neck protruding from his temples. Outside, the hostage negotiator uses a megaphone to shout at him, but it’s as if nobody is paying attention to what he’s saying. You only have eyes for Peter, who’s crouched under one of the desks, his arms stretched out in front of him so he can get a good angle on Hank. 

Before you get a chance to do as much as blink, silvery webs shoot out from Peter's wrists. They latch onto the cold metal of the firearm and begin to quickly retreat, pulling the weapon out of Hank's sweaty palms. He accidentally pulls the trigger when he struggles to hold on to the only thing that’s currently keeping him alive, firing four shots into the wall before the gun clashes to the ground and drags away from him.

His eyes bulge out of his head when he sees Spider Man, now standing on top of the desk. Peter yanks his arms back, flinging the weapon towards the security guard, who was sitting near the water cooler next to the staff room. The man doesn’t hesitate to pick it up and disarm it, emptying the magazine onto the ground until every last bullet falls to the ground with a clang. They bounce across the floor and roll under desks and at people's feet, away from the man who threatened to kill with them. 

Within minutes, the entire place is surrounded by SWAT and cops, their guns aimed at the man who was willing to kill innocent people for his own benefit. 

You can hardly get up from your chair when you feel something warm and smooth pressed up against your body. You instantly feel your knees buckling under you, but Peter uses his strength to keep you from falling. Reporters outside try their hardest to catch a glimpse of what’s going on inside the bank, but police officers hold them back as best they can, cutting off their view with all their might while the two of you hug. 

Your entire body trembles and your heart feels like it was going to explode as you shivered in Peter's arms, holding onto the boy for what felt like dear life. 

"Shh," he whispers in your ear, "It's okay. I got you."

You try to speak, to thank him for coming as quickly as he did, but nothing comes out except throaty stutters and shaky breaths. You’re hurting, even a blind man can see it.

“You came,” you manage, “he just lost it.” 

“Of course I did silly,” he replies, “I couldn’t let you get hurt, could I?”

People all around you gasp audibly when Peter pulls off his mask, synapses doing jumping jacks when you come face to face with him in public. He’s never taken off the mask in front of people before, especially not in front of reporters, and out of all of the Avengers, his identity is the only one that up until now remained a secret. Peter isn’t thinking about what Tony might say or what Steve might think. He’s not concerned with the gaping expressions of journalists and cops alike, or with the newspapers that will have his face plastered on the front page tomorrow. He doesn’t care because grown attached to you. 

The feeling had crept up on him slowly, and he hadn’t realized it until now, when the possibility of losing you for the second time in such a short amount of time finally managed to get it through his head.

“What are you doing?” You ask, eyes wide and pupils blown out. 

“I want you to see me,” he says, “not the mask.”

“But-” you stammer, “your identity. They’ll know. Everyone will know.” 

“I don’t care anymore,” Peter uses his thumb to caress your cheek, “let ‘em know that spider man’s just a kid from Queens. I’m sick of hiding.”

The small smile that plays on your rosy lips makes his heart skip a beat. He’s in love with you, has been for a while now, and Peter’s pretty sure the adrenaline surging in his veins is the reason for the sudden realization. He opens his mouth to speak and the words dangle on the tip of his tongue, but he remains silent when a police officer drapes a blanket over your shoulders and asks you if you require medical attention.

He’ll tell you, he reckons. When the time is right.

[kassies-take]

Dream Come True

Summary: R is Alex’s daughter and Alex wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

A/n: went back to rewatch Supergirl episodes and the moment in season three when the realization that Alex actually does wants kids gave me an idea.

Warning: Fluff

Alex Danvers x Reader, Dansen, Supercorp

Word Count: 1860

Age:  4

Alex and Kara stood next to each other with the grill smoking beside them. 

You were four, after Kelly’s and Alex’s foster class they were able to become foster parents. It took them about five months before they found a match, with you. No one has made you feel loved as Alex and Kelly has. You definitely didn’t make it easy for them for the next four months, you were so stubborn but they both had so much patience and so much love to give. When it came to it, you agreed immediately to have Kelly and Alex as your parents.

Alex was a bit jealous when you first met Lena and Kara, instantly connecting with Lena. Kara was way to excited and scared you away. You were still scared of Kara.

Lena carried you as you both cheered with putting up the tent, considering that you and Lena has never been camping. 

“Are you sure you two never went camping?” Kelly smiled.

“You make it easy,” Lena smirked, kissed your cheek and placed you in the blue tent. 

“Mommy! Look at the tent I made with Lena!” You called from the window. 

There was a calm silence that took between the sisters and their wives. This was the first mom since they met you. You ignored the silence and walked towards Alex. You grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the tent. 

“Mommy. There is space between you and Enat so I can stay in the middle and look at the stars.” A silent cry was made by Kelly as she heard her whole heritage with in calling her mom in her mother tongue. 

“Kara’s almost done with dinner, then after dinner we can look at the stars.” 

A campfire was made with Kara’s heat vision which you didn’t see as you chased Alex, Kelly and Lena around with a water gun. Kelly dried you up before marshmallows were brought out. 

“Mom, mommy!” You panicked when your marshmallow caught on fire.  

Alex grabbed your stick and blew out the marshmallow. You were about to put it in your mouth when Kara showed you how to make s’mores. Needless to say by the end of the night there was chocolate around yours and Kara’s lips. 

“I understand (Y/n), but come on Kara. You too? I married a child.” Lena laughed. 

“A falling star!” You interrupted.  

“Do you know what to do when there is a shooting star?” Kelly asked. 

“No,” you pouted when you didn’t understand. 

Lena’s face dropped immediately. She was adopted when she was four too but she knew what a shooting star, granted it was meteoroids falling into Earth’s atmosphere burning up. 

“You make a wish.” 

“Oh. Enat can take my wish.” 

“Why don’t you want to wish for something, baby?” 

“Cynthia, the nice lady at the adoption place, said we had to take turns.” 

“Okay, it’s my turn to to show you something. Drum roll please!” Alex got up. 

Kara, Lena and Kelly smacked their hands together. Alex came back from the car with a dark blue telescope in her arms. The rest of the night was spent with Alex trying to make you see constellations correctly. 

“Look it’s Eridanus.” Alex moved from the telescope. 

“It looks like a snake. Oh there is a man next to it.” 

Alex smiled before she caressed your hair and looked up to the sky. 

~~~~~

Age: 4 

You sat in between Kelly and Alex on their bed. Normally bed time stories would be read in your room, but their bed was so much bigger than yours and you wanted to cuddle with them.  

You were going through, word by word for the story ‘Sylvester and the Magic Pebble’. Both Alex and Kelly listening patiently.

“They...went..to the...po-” you looked at Alex.

“Police.”

“Police. The police c-could not find their uh their khayld.”

“Ch,” Alex demonstrated. “c and h together make ch sound. So the c.h.i.l.d is?”

“Child?” you said unsure.

“That’s my girl!”

~~~~~

Age: 5

It was take your kids to work day after a long debate and Kelly’s dismay you were going to the DEO with Alex. You knew your mom was a cool secret agent and that Auntie Kara was Supergirl. 

Without Alex and Kelly knowing, she took you flying when she really shouldn’t. The DEO was still a secret agency so the only kid was you. You spun on Alex’s chair in her office, starring at the white ceiling. 

“Alex said you’d be in here!” Supergirl came into the room. 

Your arms immediately reached for her. You snuggled into her arms, you were stuck in Alex’s office since she was needed on a mission. Alex was going to work on her mission statements when she got to it but now she requested for you go to the training room. 

Alex was dressed in her uniform punching gloves by her side. “Sorry mommy had work and couldn’t be with you. But now mommy is going to teach you how to punch.”

“I will get to be like mommy?” 

“Yes, but you got to promise that you won’t tell mommy and you can not use this unless someone hits you first.”

“Okay.” You smiled before you grabbed the two gloves.

“(Y/n).” You turned to face your mom. “You got to pinky promise.”

Your pinkys interlocked before Alex helped you with the gloves. She helped you into a fight stance before slowly guiding your hands to throw a punch. After several punches with Alex guiding you, you began to punch Alex’s gloved mittens on your own. Kelly and Alex has an argument about this, but you ended up looking foreword to Sundays to spar with her.

~~~~~

You were a quiet, didn’t speak a single word. The teachers noticed you didn’t make any progress in your reading skills. Alex was furious and so was Kelly. How dare they say you aren’t making progress when you would read to them every night. Harry Potter for that matter. So you were home schooled.

Turns out it was just hard for you to meet new people. So Superfriends took turns to teach you. You were mainly with J’onn in the tower. He taught history on Mondays Brainy projected himself in the tower to help with math on Tuesdays, Lena always took a half day on Fridays and would help you with science. Kara and Nia would help with English on Thursdays or Wednesdays. That only worked until middle school.

It wasn’t until then when you started through glitter all over your room, frustrated with the fact that your valentine wouldn’t look perfect.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” Alex asked from the door.

“I can’t make this stupid Valentine.”

“It’s not stupid, let me see. That is a lot of glitter. You are not giving this to anyone. No boy likes glitter.”

“It’s for a girl...” Silence took over before Alex stepped further into the room. 

“Well girls don’t really like glitter either.” 

“You always make Valentine’s Day so special with mom. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Well everyone always gives a bear and flowers, I like where you are going with the card.” 

You continued to draw yourself and your crush in crayon adding red hearts around the both of you. Alex took the same red crayon, writing ‘the universe can not compare to your beauty.’

“That’s so cheesy! I love it!” You hugged Alex.

~~~~~

Age: 11

Alex woke up with a feeling that something was wrong. She looked to her left and found Kelly fast asleep. She got up and checked on your room, to find you sniffing and curled up into a ball. 

“My sweet girl. You’re okay. I’m here.” Alex whispered as she slipped under the blankets with you. 

You cried into her neck, tightly gripping the back of her shirt. Alex wished so dearly to take away your pain. She hated to see you cry. She rubbed your back and whispered sweet words in your ear. 

You don’t get nightmares easily, you’ve seen your mother defeat aliens and even enjoyed watching scary movies with your mothers. It wasn’t until you found Alex unconscious in the medbay, with wires coming out of her arms when you kept getting your nightmare. All different scenarios of Alex possibly dying in the field. 

Alex knew not to say ask for anything you weren’t ready to share. Alex caught Kelly’s silhouette at the door and gestured for her join. Kelly knew, of course, she was a therapist and she was your mother. Alex held you until you fell asleep again before Kelly told her her guess. 

~~~~~

Age: 16 

Alex had a day off today. She was going through old reports on her bed when  the apartment door was slammed open. It was near lunch time you were at school and Kelly had a meeting that would go past lunch. Alex reached into the reached under the bed and pulled out the gun below. 

The DEO director followed the shuffling and grumbling into your room. She raised her gun before she registered a click from a gun. She cautiously walked towards your room, she turned immediately and pointed her gun at the intruder. 

“Mom?” 

“(Y/n)?” You both lowered your guns. 

“I thought you’d have work.”

“Don’t you have school?”

“I don’t feel safe there.”

“Is that why you have a gun?” Alex raised her eyebrows.

You looked down in your hand before you switched the gun to hold it from the barrel and handed it to Alex. 

“Lets get you food, then we can talk.” 

“They tell me i’m not (your ethnicity) enough, nor am I enough. My birth parents didn’t want me. I think it would’ve been better if I was left to die in that orphanage.

“Hey, your parents wanted you, in fact they came after Kelly and I. They were in no shape or form cable of giving you the love you needed. They gave up yes, but you’re wanted by us. I promise we did not adopt you out of pity.” Alex moved your hair behind your ears. “And no, it would not have been better. Yes, Kelly and I would’ve adopted someone else, but trust me when I say the world is a better place because you’re in it. I’m not just saying that because your my daughter. You brought Kelly and I out of dark places, you have even made Supergirl helpful again. We love you, I love you and you are enough.”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” you pouted as Alex held you.

“You have touched so many people’s heart. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their corner. You are a dream come true and I promise you that nothing stands a chance against you.”

“Except Aunt Kara.”

“Except Aunt Kara,” Alex agreed. “Though your Aunt Kara doesn’t stand a chance to your Aunt Lena.”

“Aunt Lena spoils me...”

“Yeah I have to talk to her about that, because apparently you’ve been talking to your Aunt Lena cause she built you a...”

“A stealth suit! This is a dream come true! Of course after you and Enat.”

[emerald-echeveria-plant]

(Me: when will you stop?

Also Me: till the earth explodes :3)

Name:

Veronica Flare

Name pronunciation:

Ver-on-i-ca Fla-re

Nickname:

The executioner

Personality:

Flamboyant, vengeful, extravagant, sadistic, loyal, looney, charming, jokester

Age:

523 years old

Species:

Venus flytrap

Sexuality:

Pansexual

Gender:

Transwoman

Pronouns:

She/her

Ethnicity:

???

Looks:

Backstory:

(WARNING: mentions of torture, suicide, & transphobia)

During the era of which Hatred was ruling over Amoretia, she had many enemies who would happily want her buried alive. So in response, Hatred decided to strike fear into them. She thought they'd be much easier to control and leave her alone if they were afraid of her. Yet, how could she accomplish it? Torture. But an amount of torture that would keep them alive and make others fear her. If her enemies saw the state of her victims, they would see what she was capable of. At first, Hatred would handle most of the torturing but couldn't for long. Her armies and supporters needed her leadership. So, Hatred hired multiple tortures to do the job for her. The job was simple, torture the enemy but too much to a point where they die. One problem though. Some of the things Hatred would instruct them to do, was a bit too much for them... Such as It affected their mental and emotional health. Hatred didn't care though, she still wanted them to do it. If they didn't, they would be met with her wrath. And one of the things no one should ever do.. is anger the queen.

The tortures slowly fell in numbers. Some of them going insane from what they committed. While others committed suicide. A few of them tried to start a revolt against the queen with the prisoners they were supposed to be torturing. In response, Hatred had them tied to a ship and slowly had it sink. Hatred hired more torturers but it would always seem to be a repeat of what happened last time. Going insane, suicide, and revolting against her. Seeing as no matter what she did, the issue wouldn't go away. After pondering with herself for a while, she came up with a perfect idea.

She'll create her own torturer.

Hatred went through many spells books in order to find a way to create such a being. Not being satisfied with any of the options she had, she went onto experiment. While she wasn't away fighting alongside her armies or making plans with her cabinet, she'd frequently experiment on how to create life. Her first few experimentations didn't go as planned. Most of them coming up as failures in her eyes. Hatred would get severely frustrated with not getting the results she wanted. Often destroying her own room in the process. Hatred tried for months to create the perfect specimen. They had to be equally terrifying, threatening, and cruel. As well as some certain traits that would make them not become insane or betray her. She made a specially designed potion containing such traits. Making the being morally corrupt, sadistic, and loyal to her and only her.

A year later, she finally got the result she wanted... Well, sort of. By using a venus flytrap along with a potion and black magic, she created a being from it. A being she would call Victor Flare. Of course Victor wasn't exactly what she wanted. To her he was way too skinny, not as tall, and not terrifying looking at all. Yet, he had some form of intelligence and had all four of his limbs along with working organs. By this point she was growing tired of experimenting and decided to go with him. He was born twenty three years old yet had the mind of a newborn. Right after he was created, Victor was immediately put to learning about Hatred's ideology. It confused him a lot at first. Mainly because he had no clue how to read or write. After realizing that the creature she created couldn't just learn about her ideology, she allowed him to be taught subjects like math, science, and language arts. Victor eventually learned how to read and write as well as speak. After becoming intelligent, Hatred thought that he was finally ready. She began to teach him how to torture her enemies. Most of the time the torture lessons would be hands-on. Victor found himself enjoying giving pain to people. Most likely due to Hatred making him have the certain traits that she desired. She was pleased with the outcome of seeing him torture and made him her royal torturer. Finally getting what she wanted, Hatred could finally focus on spreading her ideology as well as defeating some of her enemies. She'd usually bring back some soldiers on the enemies side or even her main enemy for Victor to torture. He'd always do as she requested in order to make her happy. Hatred never physically showed her happiness but did seem to be pleased with what he did. Although he could do better. Hatred eventually casted a spell that gave him powers that would allow him to do more awful things. The powers were tied to his species which allowed him to control and manipulate plant life. Victor became fascinated with his powers. His first thought was how there were so many ways to make a person suffer. He would then use his powers, primarily manipulating vines in order to tear them apart, limb by limb, slowly and painfully.

As much as he enjoyed making Hatred's enemies suffer, he started having other thoughts. He began to question his own actions. Why was he torturing these people? Sure he liked it but why them? He knew they were the enemy but why were they the enemy? When asking Hatred these questions, she only reiterated that they didn't follow the right way of how to truly live. How love was an infectious disease and how it would be the Galaxy's downfall. How she was born in order to stop such a thing from happening. Even though Victor was maybe five months old at this point, knew that her ideology was incredibly flawed. Yet, he never commented anything about it. Knowing that if he did, she'd torture him as well. Victor knew that these people he was hurting were innocent... Strangely, it made it much more fun for him. Most likely due to him being specifically made morally corrupt. After answering that question, there was another question brewing in his mind.. Who was he? Well he knew who he was. He was the loyal servant to Hatred who was given the task to harm her enemies. But.. who was he really? Behind those layers of plant flesh and blood? What was the core center? This lead to him questioning his own identity.

He questioned if he was only a torturer and if that was the only thing in his life. Victor wanting more meaning in his life took up hobbies. Mainly reading books. His favorite books being that of fairytales. Victor would also often be taking care of his appearance. Nobody wants blood stained faces after torturing all day. He first wondered if he wasn't a torturer, what else could he be? Maybe a makeup artist or a hair dresser. Those jobs sounded thrilling but not as much fun as tearing someone's skin off. As much as Victor took care of his appearance, he could never shake the feeling something was off about him. He felt uncomfortable in his skin. Often covering his skin with layers of clothing. He never knew why though. He didn't know but felt like he needed to. Victor would only get his answer when he was reading another one of his books. It showed illustrations of beautiful women wearing gowns and enjoying a picnic. Victor felt what would be known as "gender dysphoria". He felt uneasy with his own gender. As if he was born in the wrong body. Well, he kinda was as Hatred would put it. Although it was more about gender for him but it was everything else from Hatred. She didn't even want him to have a gender in the first place. Victor would slowly begin to put on makeup. First it was a bit of eyeliner then lipstick and full on layer of makeup. He felt comfortable with himself as he put on the makeup. Victor felt beautiful. When Hatred was away, he'd sneak into her room and wear one of her dresses. He didn't like the colors but enjoyed wearing it regardless. Eventually, Hatred would catch him doing this. In response she yelled at him before kicking him out of her private quarters. She wasn't mad about him wearing a dress but actually about that it was HER dress. Hatred didn't like it when people touched her things. Despite that, Victor began to take on more feminine traits. He started to talk in a much more high pitched voice. He wore high heels while torturing people. They were confused but didn't question it if they wanted a harsher punishment. One day, Victor full on dressed in a beautiful long gown, heels, and makeup. He adored it very much and praised himself for looking so good. Yet, he still didn't feel comfortable with himself. Despite looking gorgeous, he didn't like his gender. He didn't feel like he was born in the right body. He was destained to be someone else. Victor came to the conclusion that he wasn't born to be a man... He was supposed to be a woman. But how exactly could he turn into one..?

Magic. That was the answer. If Hatred could create him with just a potion and a few funny magic words, then surely there was a way for him to become a woman. After looking through several spell books, he finally found the spell he was looking for. The creation of a potion that would allow one to permanently become a woman. It was hard work but Victor managed to collect all the ingredients he needed to make the potion. He then finally drank the potion. It was a success and a bit later, Victor would change his name to Veronica. Along with his pronouns to she/her. When Hatred came to learn of this, she didn't really care. All she wanted was her enemies to suffer. Veronica happily compiled as soon as Hatred called her by her correct pronouns.

Veronica finally felt comfortable with herself. Enjoying to be in her own skin and loving herself throughout. Although she was met with a problem, many people loathed her for torturing people. When her enemies found out that she was trans, they decided to harass her on that. Often yelling slurs at her and sending hurtful letters about how horrible of a MAN she was. Veronica was angered by this. Offended that they still thought of her as a man and not as a woman. She could take being called a horrible person for committing atrocious acts or even being called a literal hellspawn. Veronica found their insults to be humourous sometimes. She'd even provoke them to insult her more. But misgendering her was taking it too far... She wasn't a man anymore and was happy being her true self. Then it all came crashing down when many people began to refer to her as "Victor" her deadname. Finally reaching her breaking point, Veronica unleashed hell on Amoretia... All of her enemies would feel her wrath for treating her horribly. Many of them were mainly torn limb from limb while others had much more horrible punishments. One person was slowly impaled by a bamboo shoot. Another covered in flowers that attracted bees and slowly died from being stung to death. Yet the one person that met the worst fate was young woman by the name of Patty Marrion. Patty would often be the one harassing Veronica daily. Calling her all sorts of horrible things, saying her decisions were choices instead of actually feelings, and literally made pamphlets demonizing trans folk. After weeks of being tormented, Patty was now at the mercy of Veronica who wasn't very keen on letting her go. Veronica seem to play it simple though... All she asked Patty to do was drink a glass of wine she specially made for her. Patty knew this was one of her sick and twisted games of Veronica. She expected to be poisoned but nothing to seem to happen at first. Yet before Patty could respond, most likey taunting her about how her planned failed, she began to feel something change inside her... What Patty hadn't realized was that Veronica put inside a special seed. A special seed that slowly turned Patty into a tree... It was quite a horrifying sight as Patty realized what was happening to her. She begged for mercy. Apologizing repeatedly for her actions. Yet, it was too late... Veronica watched in glee as Patty slowly circumed to her fate. Right after the transformation was complete, Veronica took an axe, chopped down the tree, and made a lovely chair for Hatred to sit on. Veronica's tyranny wouldn't end after those events. Right after she went in a rampage and gifting Hatred the chair, Hatred promoted her by making her executioner. As well as have some form of control over Amoretia while she was away fighting wars. It was a very good deal for Veronica as now she could implement about how much she adored being herself and torture anyone she wanted!

Unfortunately after two years of this, Hatred would then be "executed" by her enemies. Veronica became extremely depressed that their "wonderful" and "fantastic" leader was put to death. Not wanting her legacy of destroying all love to die out, Veronica tried to lead Amoretia and the armies herself. Veronica never truly believed in destroying love but would do it out of respect for Hatred. Yet, the other monarchies weren't going to let that happen. They declared that Veronica had to be put to death for her crimes. She would end up going on the run for a while. Then, it seemed like she straight up disappeared. There wasn't any trace of her left. No leads, no eyewitnesses, and no sightings. Amoretia would soon be ran by a government in order to establish some sort of order. Sadly, the kingdom would never return back to it's prime time... Although some people on Amoretia do still believe Veronica is still out there... Plotting.. Seeking revenge.. and going to return one day.

Likes:

Makeup, fashion, taunting others, desserts, making jokes/puns, torturing people, violence, & practicing magic

Dislikes:

Being misgendered, her deadname, people disrespecting Hatred, insects, stepping on her shoes, transphobes, dull things, and sour foods

Powers/abilities:

Nature manipulation - connected directly to the natural world and thus can communicate, influence, manipulate and control nature

Potion making - substances with magical properties such as enhancing physical and mental abilities, healing, granting powers, changing shape, or bewitching someone depending on the kind of potion that is made.

Immortality - endless lifespan

Weaknesses:

Fire - the most feared thing a plant could ever face.

Vulnerable - can have a long lifespan but can still die

Water - isn't a very strong swimmer

Physical strength - Veronica isn't the strongest and even Baozhai could beat her in a fight

Occupation:

Torturer & Executioner

Other:

Veronica's flytrap flaps often closes whenever she goes to sleep or whenever she doesn't want to talk to anyone.

[kurosakikai]

. xx3 . Dutiful Son

Find me on AO3 Find me on Ko-Fi Also available to yell at on Twitter

“Kitty!” Kai-kun gushes the first afternoon he’s due to learn ‘Sneaky Spy Things’ from him, and Kisuke looks up, realizes Yoruichi is sitting there, grooming herself. He approaches Yoruichi, and looks pleadingly at Kisuke. “Can I pet them? They’re so pretty!” Kai-kun gushes, and Yoruichi - ever the stage-hog - preens, meowing at the boy.

“She’d love that,” Kisuke says, and the boy beams, delighted. Gently, the boy works his fingers over her ears, to cover the base of Yoruichi’s skull, and all over her neck, much to Yoruichi’s purring pleasure.

“I’d love to have a pet, but Papa says we can’t get one yet - he says when I’m in junior high if I keep my grades up I can ask for any pet I want!” He says, beaming, before giving the cat one last fond little ear scratch.

“What kind of pet would you like?” Kisuke asks, amused, and Kai pauses, looking thoughtful.

“Something fluffy,” he decides. “Definitely not a Shiba though,” the boy says, and Kisuke raises a brow. “My school partner’s mom is a dog groomer, and he showed me videos. They’re so dramatic,” he says, grinning, and Kisuke snorts.

“Not unlike the other kind of Shibas,” Kisuke jokes, and Kai-kun giggles. “Give me just a moment, and we can start our lesson,” he promises, Kai-kun beaming happily. “Do you remember what we’re supposed to cover, Kai-kun?”

“Uh, how to act in all kinds of social situations, and high-class behavior,” the boy recites thoughtfully. “So that way I can blend in, and also how to politely insult people,” he adds. “And then, self defense only, until I get older.” He puffs his cheeks out at the last part and Yoruichi, meowing, plants her paws on his shoulders to lick his face. The boy laughs, scratches her on the top of her head.

“Thank you, pretty kitty,” he says with a smile, scratching her under her chin for good measure. “Papa’s so overprotective,” Kai-kun says with a sigh, sets Yoruichi on the ground, to which she meows and rubs against his leg affectionately. “Thanks,” he tells her, and pleased, Yoruichi putters off, tail in the air as she wanders away from them, satisfied.

“Well, now that you’ve been comforted, come, let’s get that dreaded homework done.” Kai-kun obediently follows behind him, holding his bag close. “How did the talk with your mother go?” Kisuke asks, curious. Kai-kun shrugs.

“I don’t know. Papa had me stay at Uncle Chad’s last night so that I couldn’t hear the argument.” Kisuke doesn’t wince, but it’s a near thing. “Momma isn’t happy about it, but Papa says I can attend anyways, and if Momma protests, take it up with him.” The little boy smiles when he looks back, and Kisuke gives the boy a smile in return.

“Do you know the other reason why you’re taking formality lessons?” He asks, just to see if Rukia had told him. Ichigo had already discussed it with him, and had requested he ask that question to see if Rukia had ever told him about his uncle. Kai-kun shrugs a little again.

“Momma didn’t say much when I talked to her about it,” he admits shyly. “She said it had to do with Uncle Bya.” Entering the basement, Kisuke holds his tongue from the acidic quip he wants to make. Being upset would likely confuse the little one until he was old enough to understand why Kisuke was so upset.

“I see.” The little boy obediently takes a seat when he gestures, and Kisuke sits across from him. “Now, I’m going to explain why - your mother should have, but I don’t have an inkling as to why she would keep this from you.” Oh, he had several ideas, and he was not amused. “Did you know that your mother is an heiress?” Kai-kun blinks twice and then gapes.

“Like, fancy politics and arranged marriages sort of heiress?” The boy says, surprised. Kisuke gives a rueful little chuckle.

“One and the same, Kai-kun,” he says, and the boy stares at him, wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing like a little fish.

… Dammit, were the Kaien similarities really still nagging at him? Good grief.

“... But… Momma said that Uncle Bya doesn’t have any other family… doesn’t that mean that I’m supposed to inherit? Shouldn’t I have been taking lessons?” The boy says, confused. With a soft pat, Kisuke ruffles the boy’s hair.

“That’s right. You’re a little behind schedule now. Your Papa asked me to catch you up to speed.” The boy’s eyes turn round as coins, and he groans.

“This is why he wanted me to work at the clinic once a week, isn’t it,” the boy bemoans, and Kisuke chuckles fondly. “I’m going to be studying so much.” Kai-kun’s head hits the desk in his woe, and Kisuke can’t help but cackle at his dramatics.

“You’re precious,” he says, chuckling, and the boy levels a look at him that Kisuke would bet he learned off of his papa.

“You’re evil,” he says flatly, and Kisuke cackles harder. This little one certainly had inherited his Papa’s sense of dramatics.

A small part of him adds that Kaien was certainly an influence as well in his behavior, but like all other thoughts, Kisuke pushes it aside. The little one was not Kaien, even if he shared similarities, and it would be horrifically disrespectful to Kaien’s memory to keep doing this to Kai-kun.

“You’re adorable, Kai-kun,” he says when he’s calmed. “Come now, let’s get your homework done and out of the way so you can start on your lessons.” Kai-kun puffs his cheeks out, scowling, but obediently does so, shows Kisuke his homework.

“English today,” the boy says. “I got the other stuff done in class, but English is evil.” Kisuke snorts.

“Is there any subject you like?” He asks, grinning.

“I like English, most of the time, but I hate grammar.” The boy puffs his cheeks out again. “Why does English grammar have to be so complicated! Even math was easy compared to today!” Kisuke snorts, and takes the paper in hand to take a look at it. The simplest bits were already corrected, but - goodness, what were they teaching kids these days? That was a lot of grammar errors to fix in one sentence.

“Grammar is certainly difficult,” he says, amused, ruffling the little boy’s hair and stealing his pencil. “Now, how about we work together to defeat this beast?”

Kai-kun’s smile beams radiance.

It’s nearly twenty minutes later that the last of the homework is defeated, and Kai-kun is face-first on the table, Kisuke pouring him tea with a sympathetic smile.

“There there, it’s done for the day,” he soothes the boy, who grumbles irritably into his tea when it’s given to him. “No more evil English.”

Kai-kun makes a dramatic sound reminiscent of when Yoruichi hammed up her feline tendencies to get attention, and Kisuke is reminded, yet again, of why he shouldn’t drink tea around Kai-kun.

“Tea!” the boy cheers, quaffing his drink with enthusiasm. “Thank you Urahara-san,” he says happily, looking much refreshed. Kisuke chuckles at the boy, and ruffles the mop of black hair.

“You’re very welcome, Kai-kun. Now, you’re going to not like me very much soon. Learning noble graces is very difficult, you see,” he says with a grin, and the boy looks at him seriously.

“Why?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

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

Little Kai-kun is sulking under a blanket by the time his father comes to pick him up. Ichigo takes a pointed look towards his son, and Kisuke determinedly does not let himself look sheepish.

“We got to about as far as learning about formal dinners before Kai-kun gave up on the subject for the day. The moment I started explaining forks, he decided discretion was the better part of valor.” Kisuke says, and Ichigo gives a loud, violent-sounding snort.

“Only the forks? What else did you get done?” Ichigo asks in amusement, even as Kai-kun, having heard his papa, frees himself from the blankets to find his way against Ichigo’s leg, small arms wrapping around a thigh.

“We covered greeting people, how to verbally flay idiots, and the rules of etiquette in regards to inviting and being invited to formal and informal events,” Kai-kun says dutifully, clings tighter to his papa’s leg. “Formal lessons are evil, Papa,” the boy tells him, and Ichigo chuckles, kneeling down to lift Kai-kun up to his hip.

“Poor baby,” Ichigo teases with a kiss planted to a forehead for good measure, and Kai-kun’s cheeks puff out at his papa. “Well, it’s all done for the day, cutie,” he tells his son with a smile.

“Good,” he says, snuggling against his papa. “Papa, can we have takoyaki for dinner tonight?” the boy asks him, and Ichigo pretends to think about it, bouncing his son on his hip thoughtfully.

“Hmm… I’ll have to ask Yuzu where she put our Takoyaki pan - it’s just us tonight, so I guess we can make some Takoyaki together.” The boy’s smile dims a little, and Kisuke, before even really thinking it through, offers,

“If you two would like, you can stay at my place tonight for dinner. I have a takoyaki griddle we can put on the table.” Kai-kun looks startled at the offer, and so does Ichigo, whose expression was visibly saddened at the sight of his only child’s disappointment. He gives Kisuke a suspicious look, but Kisuke smiles innocently. After a moment of scrutiny, Ichigo looks down at his son, who is practically vibrating with eager delight.

“Can we Papa?” The boy asks hopefully, and Ichigo’s smile returns, the sight of his little one smiling having cheered him up immensely.

“Only because I love you, cutie,” he tells his son, and Kai gives a delighted little noise, making Ichigo laugh and kiss his son on the cheek. “Let’s see about helping Kisuke make dinner then, hmm?”

“Yay!” Kai-kun cheers, squirming down from Ichigo’s hip to run off and pack his things. Ichigo fixes Kisuke with an arch look, and the shopkeeper raises his hands defensively.

“Maa maa, Ichigo, I saw the look on Kai-kun’s face just as easily as you did,” he points out, and Ichigo’s gaze grows distant as he watches his son happily put his things away

“I just want my son to be happy,” Ichigo says quietly. “With everything going on, I feel like he’s not getting as much affection and care as he needs.”

“It doesn’t help that Kai-kun is a very sheltered little one, either, now does it?” Kisuke adds, pointedly. Ichigo grimaces.

“I take it by the tone of your voice you’re not amused.”

“Supremely unamused,” Kisuke agrees. “I understand your worry, but what happened, Ichigo? You were never this protective with your own sisters.” Ichigo’s gaze slides away, towards his son, who is staying where he finished packing his things, obviously waiting for them to finish their conversation.

“Not now,” Ichigo says with a sigh. “Come by the clinic tomorrow, while Kai’s at school, and I’ll explain.” Kisuke raises a brow, but shrugs easily.

“Sure, sure, Ichigo,” he agrees, before waving at Kai-kun, the boy beaming and scurrying over. “Come along, Kai-kun. Do you know how to make Takoyaki batter?” He asks, and the boy nods eagerly, taking his papa’s hand.

“Yeah! Auntie Yuzu showed me how!” Kai-kun chirps happily, and Ichigo smiles fondly down at his son, brown eyes glittering with fondness. “Auntie Yuzu said I wasn’t allowed to cut stuff on my own though until I turned ten, or Papa would slow-roast her,” he says, giggling.

Kisuke, aware it was no falsehood, eyes Ichigo, who maintains a virtuous innocence that he in no way bought.

Maaaa. What troublesome people, Kurosakis.

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH2

Thank you all so much for 3.5k (and growing)! You are all so wonderful, and I’m glad that you all enjoy my content enough to stick around and follow. I have a lot of plans for the future, and I just hope that you all will like them! Here is part two of this next spite filled adventure.

The opening scene and really this whole fic were inspired by lenore’s post from forever ago after Chameleon came out so shouts out! Also, I know several of you wanted me to tag you when I updated this, and I will do my best to get everyone, but I suggest getting an AO3 account and subscribing to the fic there instead. You’ll get an email whenever I update, and I always post on AO3 first before tumblr. 

Read on AO3

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Chapter 2

“You know, when you made these plans with Adrien, I thought you meant to be nice,” Tikki said chidingly in the bathroom as Marinette washed her hands several days later.

“I am being nice,” Marinette said with an innocent pout.

“You put a ‘Coping with loss’ book on Lila’s desk yesterday.”

“She said her hamster died.”

“And the safety glasses by the napkins in the cafeteria?” Tikki cocked a brow.

“Max was worried about losing an eye.”

“You did your science presentation on tinnitus.”

“Well, after the music festival with Juleka’s mom, I was worried about our hearing.” Marinette snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and dried her hands.

“Your history report on the greatest liars and cheats in history?”

“I became fascinated with P.T. Barnum’s life after that movie and finishing with a comparison of Volpina and Rena Rouge was just a modern-day example everyone could identify with.” Tikki gave her a look. “I got a standing ovation for that presentation.”

“What about the fact-checking robot you petitioned Max to make?”

“For Alya for her birthday! I’m just trying to help her become a better journalist because I’m a good friend.” Marinette placed her hands on her hips haughtily.

“Speaking of Alya, you’ve been telling her to just hang out with Nino lately.”

“She said she wanted to spend more time with him. I’m just being supportive of their relationship,” she shrugged.

“Marinette,” Tikki sighed.

“What? We can’t expose Lila, so we’re just playing along until she inevitably exposes herself which I will watch probably with popcorn,” Marinette said with a laugh. “It’s called kill em with kindness.”

“It’s called being petty.”

“Semantics,” Marinette waved it away, but Tikki was unamused. “Look, I can’t beat Lila at lies. She just makes more, so I’ve come up with another plan that doesn’t harm anyone and keeps everyone from getting mad at me for calling her out. I mean, you saw what happened the other day when she got me expelled. Scarlet Moth almost made a comeback, and I was on the frontlines.”

“I guess we can’t let that happen again…” Tikki reasoned, tapping her chin.

“Exactly. Lila wants everyone to believe those things, so I’m just gonna let her keep falling down the rabbit hole until she eventually hits the bottom,” Marinette said with a twisted grin. “If I happen to push her a little deeper along the way then so be it.”

“That’s very underhanded of you, Marinette.”

“I don’t like it when people use my friends and threaten me.” Marinette clenched her fists. “She almost got me akumatized multiple times now, and we can’t ever let that happen.”

“You’re right. Just be careful,” Tikki advised.

“Don’t worry, Tikki. Coming up with solutions is my superpower.” She winked as her phone buzzed in her pocket with an akuma alert. “Speaking of, we have a city to save. Tikki, transform me!”

***

“Ladybug!” Alya waved her down after the battle, brandishing her cell phone. “Do you have time for a quick interview?”

“A little,” she said with a shrug. “Make it quick.”

“Okay, okay, many of my viewers want to know what advice you have to help people stay positive to avoid being akumatized,” Alya began, pressing record.

“Well, I would recommend changing your perspective a little. Instead of being bummed out about failing a test, maybe commit to studying harder next time. If you get into a fight with your friends, just take a deep breath and remember that if they’re your real friends, they’ll forgive you.” Ladybug replied, placing her hands on her hips. “And if you do get akumatized, don’t make a big deal out of it. Chat Noir and I will always be there to save you. Negative emotions are a part of life just like positive ones, and everyone can have a bad day, even me.”

“Next question, with the passing of Hero’s Day, my viewers want to know what they can do to help you and Chat Noir.”

“Just do your best every day. Lift each other up instead of tearing each other down and do your best to help others who need it,” she said with a smile.

“My friend Marinette is like that, always helping others and helping us stay positive,” Alya remarked, and Ladybug bit back a smirk.

“I think I’ve met her a few times. She’s alerted me of a few akumas here and there.” She tapped her chin with a coy smile. “Not everyone has superpowers like me and Chat Noir, but there are a lot of ways to help out in your school, in your community, or even in your own home just like your friend. I think that everyone should strive to be a Marinette.”

She pressed a hand to her earrings as they beeped and palmed her yoyo, flashing Alya a peace sign. “Gotta go before I change back.”

“Thank you for your time, Ladybug!” Alya bounced on her heels, clutching her phone to her chest as Ladybug tossed her yoyo over the roof.

“Bug out!”

***

When Lila walked through the doors of the library that afternoon, she stopped short when her eyes locked with Marinette’s sitting at the table with Max. They held that same taunting innocence that made Lila’s blood boil, and she knew this was another one of her “nice” schemes.

“Oh, Lila, there you are,” she greeted with a smile, and Lila did her best to suppress an eye roll. “You haven’t been doing so well in class, so I’ve asked everyone to pitch in helping you catch up. Max is here to help you with your maths and science, Rose has agreed to help you with Literature, Sabrina can help you out with history, and then Nathaniel said he would be more than happy to help you with the art project we have due next week.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Adrien agreed to help me,” Lila said, waving it away. “He should be here any minute.”

“Actually, he had a pop-up fencing lesson with Kagami this afternoon. She insisted because her mother is so hard on her to improve her technique, and Adrien is the only opponent who challenges her enough, so he just couldn’t say no,” Marinette explained.

“Adrien does score well across the board on all of his exams; however, his schedule guarantees an 87.96% chance that you won’t get sufficient help in order to pull your grades up in time, so Marinette reached out to the rest of us to step in on his behalf so you don’t fail the semester,” Max stated, and Marinette smiled sweetly beside him.

“As class representative, I’m just looking out for the needs of everyone,” she said, standing up. “Thanks again for your help, Max.”

“No problem, Marinette.” Max waved it away. “Oh, and I will have prototype designs for that software you asked me for later this week.”

“Awesome! You’re the best, Max!” Marinette clasped her hands together cheerfully. “Good luck, Lila, and let me know if you need any more help.”

Lila offered her a forced smile before her face fell into a scowl.

“Have fun at movie night!” Max called, waving as she left.

“Movie night?” Lila quirked a brow.

“Yes, many of our classmates are convening to watch movies at Kim’s house this evening, but seeing as it’s a movie I’ve already seen, I agreed to help you catch up on your studies tonight instead,” Max explained, pulling out his textbooks. “I’ve assembled 100 maths problems for us to work covering each section of material that you missed while you were traveling then I have a PowerPoint reviewing over our particle physics unit from last term-”

Lila glared at the door Marinette had gone through, gripping her pencil with white knuckles. She wasn’t quite sure what game Marinette was playing with her, but she was definitely up to something. No matter, she wasn’t about to be defeated so easily. After all, she had Gabriel Agreste on her side.

***

“How did Lila react to Max?” Adrien asked as Marinette grabbed a juice from the snack table.

“She looked half ready to strangle me,” Marinette replied, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“There isn’t going to be a lot I can do if my father decides to use her in photoshoots again, but I’ll help you in any way that I can outside of that,” he said, grabbing a cookie.

“What are you two whispering about?” Alya asked with a smirk, and they both stiffened.

“Uh, I was just asking Marinette if she wanted to sit with me during the movie,” Adrien said, nudging Marinette with his elbow.

“Y-Yeah, I- of course. You don’t mind, do you, Alya?” Marinette fumbled, and her friend gave a proud beam.

“Not at all. I was actually on my way to tell you that I want to sit with Nino.” She winked.

“Great. Then it’s settled.” Adrien waved as they moved to their bean bags.

“How did she sneak past your father anyway? I thought he was some impenetrable wall?” She asked, and Adrien threw his head back with a sigh.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Is it wrong I kind of wish she’d teach me?” He chuckled, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.

“Your dad let you come to this, didn’t he?” Marinette pointed out, but Adrien averted his gaze guiltily.

“I’m technically supposed to be meeting with my Chinese tutor right now, but I may have told him I lost my voice while also telling Gorilla that this was his address,” Adrien admitted, tapping his chin with an impish grin.

“Sneaky,” Marinette complimented, but he curled his shoulders.

“I feel kind of bad disobeying him, but all I want to do is see my friends. What’s so wrong with that?” He shrugged, and Marinette offered him a smile.

“Nothing, and I’m sure your dad will come around eventually,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Marinette. I really hope so.” He smiled weakly, his gaze softening on her. “You really are the kindest girl at school. Lila won’t know what hit her.”

Marinette bit back a smile, cheeks pink and heart pounding.

“Ya know, Adrien, maybe if your dad ever allows it we could-”

“Lila, Max, you made it!” Kim called, and Marinette felt her blood run cold.

“I’m a really fast learner,” Lila said, shooting Marinette a pointed glare, and her jaw clenched as Nathalie entered through the doorway beside her. “Oh, Adrien, I ran into Nathalie on the way over. She was worried about where you were, so I told her we could check here for you.”

“Adrien, you’re supposed to be at Chinese right now,” Nathalie scolded, and Adrien stiffened, face falling. “If you come now, I won’t tell your father about this.”

“Yes, Nathalie,” he said glumly, shooting Marinette an apologetic wince. “I’ll see you at school.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I didn’t realize you’d get in trouble.” Lila winced, pressing a hand to her lips in an ‘oops’ manner. “Nathalie said your father was worried.”

“It’s okay, Lila. It’s my fault,” Adrien said as he passed, head hung low as he made his way out with Nathalie.

When the door closed behind them, Lila curled her shoulders and turned to everyone with a pout.

“I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined everything. I didn’t realize that Adrien was here without permission,” she said, covering her face.

“Don’t sweat it, Lila. You didn’t know,” Nino assured her, and she peeked over her hands.

“I hope he doesn’t get into too much trouble,” she fretted, but Nino waved it away.

“Nah, Nathalie totally sticks up for him. If she says she won’t tell, then she won’t,” he said, and Lila relaxed a little.

“That’s a relief,” she sighed.

“Well, since Adrien had to bounce, why don’t you take his seat next to Marinette? You two have been getting along so great lately,” Alya suggested, pointing to the empty beanbag beside Marinette, and Lila flicked her gaze to meet Marinette’s with a grin.

“Do you mind, Marinette?” She asked, a challenging glint in her eye as if to say, ‘your move.’

“Not at all.” Marinette smiled sweetly as Lila paced over to sit down, and her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from Adrien.

Well, looks like we have our work cut out for us.

Marinette glanced at Lila out of the corner of her eye, chatting with Rose about Kitty Section before typing a quick reply.

So it would seem.

*sigh here we go*

Tagging: @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @sam-spectra @posyfoot @captain-rice @aloeveraspeaks @somethingelsefine @crazylittlemunchkin @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @rlv29 @kaleigh-girlonfire @kokoa-vb @fanwarrior-at-your-service @liebredavinci @starberry-mina @dalandana @rose-sparks13 @foreverblindedbystars @a-6-yearold-inside @redheadeddemon16 @deerestaurelia @graduatedmelon @janaikam @zatanni @shamefulllove @lunar-wolf-warrior @french-dog-joke @magnitude101999 @pinkittwice @musicallylara @summersprit-sims @timelinegodabandoned @patronusxcharms @azureocean33 @zazzlejazzle 

[spicyfloaty]

Give & Take | Chapter 1

pairing: kacchako 

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 1.5k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

note: i accidentally deleted my tumblr account and now im gonna post these all over again god fucking dammit sdkjfhkjhkfd 

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter One: Hesitation and Acceptance

“I don’t think you need anyone telling you what you most likely already know, but you’re failing almost all of your classes, Uraraka.”

Ochako already had an inkling as to what this sudden meeting was for, but the news still hits her as hard as it would if she were hearing it the first time. She was aware of how fast her grades had been slipping these past few weeks, but she couldn’t really do much about it since she already had her part time job to worry about, let alone the extra training she had been doing to make up for the classes she had been missing because of said part time job. She barely even had any more time to visit her parents to give them the paycheck she just got that month, how is she going to find the time, hell, the energy, to cram 2 weeks-worth of homework in one night?

Her eyes drop to her feet, “I know, Mr. Aizawa, it’s just that I can hardly fit anything into my schedule anymore.” She knows this wasn’t an excuse her professor would accept that easily, she just knows. She grips the fabric of her skirt as her guts sinks lower and lower, shame and disappointment weighing on her like a ton of bricks. A few seconds pass and she hears Aizawa sigh. She looks up to see a piece of paper being slid across the table, “I heard about your father’s injury. Balancing your responsibilities here at UA and the responsibilities you have at home isn’t an easy thing to do, but I thought of a schedule that might lighten the load.”

Ochako scans the schedule her teacher had made for her, tears threatening to spill from her eyes upon realizing that he was right, it did lighten the load. Her attention then zeroes in on the text written beside Thursday and Friday, Tutoring Session, but what catches her off guard was the name directly below it.

Bakugo Katsuki.

“I see you already noticed the cost that comes with this proposition,” Ochako didn’t even realize her mouth was open until Mr. Aizawa pointed his pen at it. Bakugo? Is he seriously going to have Bakugo Katsuki, the boy with the fuse as short as the width of a hair, the boy whose every waking moment was dedicated to being angry at absolutely nothing, tutor her, someone he’s barely spoken more than 10 words to, most of all someone who’s friends with the apparent center of all his rage. Well, the friends part was still debatable.

“You’re joking—” It was only until her palm flew straight to her mouth when she realized that she already spoke her mind.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Mr. Aizawa asks pointedly. “I already made arrangements with the rest of your teachers to accommodate for the time you will be spending on your part time job, you will be having at least 4 hours of tutoring a week with Bakugo on Thursdays and Fridays to make up for it.”

Ochako was still staring at her new schedule, as if looking at it any longer would change anything about it. Her thoughts began to race, desperately thinking of some kind of alternative she could offer, “What about Momo?” She looks up at Aizawa only to find his gaze locked on his computer screen. He clicks a few keys, “She already has her hands full with Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou.”

Ochako takes a deep breath and thinks harder, “Iida?” Aizawa presses a few more keys and takes a sip out of his coffee mug, “He’s already helping Momo out with those three.”

She looks away, eyes darting to anywhere but the god forsaken schedule in front of her hoping for another idea to fly by her mind before it’s too late. Another name pops in her head, she wouldn’t even think about considering being alone with him again given their history and the awkwardness that followed it, but these were desperate times and it called for desperate measures.

”What about…Midoriya?” This time, Aizawa faces her, a part of her hoped that it was because she had given him an option he hasn’t considered yet, but to her dismay, she was wrong.

“Yes, Midoriya was my first choice while putting all of this together, but after checking with All Might, he said that it would “interfere” with Midoriya’s schedule.” Aizawa explains with a hint of annoyance. Ochako should have known this, she should know more than anyone else that Deku’s time had been spent more and more with training lately.

Ochako felt defeated, she couldn’t think of anything else to say to try and convince her teacher that she would do anything else except being taught by Bakugo. It’s not like she was scared of him or anything, sure, she didn’t want to have a one on one session with someone who would flip the table if she forgot to carry the one, but the truth is that she admired him almost as much as she did Deku. It was a no-brainer to anyone that as hot headed as Bakugo might be (is), he is consistently one of Class 2A’s, if not UA’s, top performing students. The main reason she was against this unfortunate match up was because she's a hundred percent certain that Bakugo wouldn’t consent to it.

“Is Bakugo okay with this?” She asks, Aizawa’s gaze shifts to the back of the office, she follows and instantly gets her answer. She didn’t notice it when she first came in, but there were prominent scorch marks splashed across the wall with soot dusting the floor beneath it. If someone were to just pass by without giving it a second glance, it would almost look like shadows. Judging by how fresh it looked, she assumed that Bakugo’s talk with Aizawa wasn’t long before hers. It’s either that or her professor was simply too lazy to clean it off.

“He obviously had more…opinions regarding this, but after further…discussion, it was mutually decided that this would be the best option that would benefit the both of you.”

Both of us? Just how could Bakugo possibly benefit from tutoring her?

“No one gets to stay at UA with above average marks alone.” Aizawa adds. Turns out Bakugo was dangerously nearing suspension because of his recent behavior, sending 2 2C students to the infirmary would be the highlight of said behavior, Ochako still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. How could she not? She was the first one from their class to walk by and see the altercation, obscured by a growing crowd egging on the fight. She never found out what it is Bakugo was yelling about, but she knew enough cuss words to decode part of a sentence or two, but it wasn't what he was saying that stuck with her though, it was the way he looked. She had always seen him angry on a daily basis to know what he looked like upset, but as he was being dragged away, she could have sworn that for a split second, she saw his expression slip from one of anger to that of sadness.

"Simply put, Bakugo's conduct, despite his grades being top notch, could very much end up being the cause of his expulsion."

Aizawa offered Bakugo a way to somehow salvage his conduct grade by pairing him with a struggling classmate in order to show the Administration Board that he was displaying compassion and camaraderie. Aizawa saw this as an opportunity to hit two birds with one stone.

If only one of the birds didn’t know how to hit back, harder.

After explaining, he asks her once more, not like she had much of a choice, if she was on board with the plan. Her mind drifts to an image of Bakugo suspended, spending the week alone in the dorms while everyone else spends it in their classes. Ochako wasn’t blind for her to not notice the expression Bakugo wore, almost the same kind as the one she remembered from the fight, whenever she saw him during the mornings when he and Deku were placed under house arrest last year. They haven’t spoken to each other that much, if you can count tch and outta the way, round face as conversations, but she knew that if there was anyone who genuinely wanted to be in class, as much as he doesn’t care to make it obvious, it was Bakugo. Her heart ached at the thought of Bakugo missing out on classes and training when the first thing about him was his unrelenting drive to be the best in all of them.

With terrible timing, another idea floats inside her head, but Ochako already knew what her answer was. She knew that she can easily offer to take supplementary classes with one of their teachers instead, but she realized that maybe Bakugo needed this more than she did.

Which is why she agrees.

[fashion-fitness-fantasy]

6 Weeks Into My Fitness Journey vs. 6 Weeks Into My Quarantine

I started to use quarantine as an excuse to work on my fitness because despite having so much on my plate to challenge myself mentally, I have nothing physically engaging to do as of now. If I can’t leave my house, then I figure it’s the best time to start trying to lose the weight I gained while being a stressed out student (maybe even go back to my high school dancer self...fingers crossed). There is literally no temptation to eat outside and make unhealthy choices at this point for me, so here goes nothing (it also helps that I live in a home with a family full of vegetarian health nuts, so my options are only healthy at the moment). So, here I am 6 weeks into my fitness journey & my quarantine, and I am 14 pounds lighter, doing yoga everyday relentlessly, and having revelations I didn’t know I needed.

I have gone through nearly 7 straight years of higher education, and still have 3 more to go. First with 3 years of a biology undergrad, then 3 years of PT school, and now 4 more years of medical school. I had so many bumps along the way to getting into medical school and graduating from my other programs, that stress eating became my way of coping with how hard everything had gotten. It had gotten to a point where food was the only solace I had in a world full of monotonous studying, daunting exams, countless failures big & small, and endless critique from professors & admissions administrators, who held the keys to my future in medicine.

Basically, a ruthless education system with a “we’ll gladly break you down, but you’ll have to build yourself back up” philosophy. A system that makes you grovel and beg endlessly, despite all of your merit and hardwork, just to gain access to it...let alone succeed in it. By the end, you’re left in Seligman & Maier’s classic “learned helplessness” state with your self-esteem riddled in the dust. But hey, at least you got the keys to prestige and can feign your stolen dignity by putting Dr. in front of your name. Funny how after knowing the psychological concept, you can still fall prey to it. The only difference is now you know what you’re suffering from, but you have no idea how to bring yourself out of it...which some would argue is worse. But here’s the best part....I brought it all on myself. I could have walked away, but why didn’t I? Oh right! I said it was my dream. Silly me...

So, naturally, the only thing I felt I had in control to make myself happy was food, and I started to gain weight along with my stress. It’s simple math: unhappy/stressed me + fast-food + studying - activity = sedentary unhealthy lifestyle mentally and physically. And one of the first things I learned in PT school, an anthem really: “A sedentary lifestyle will kill you. Movement is medicine.” You can subtract the fast food, and add in activity easily, and you can see results. The problem is to maintain those results and those habits. You have to figure out not only how to subtract the “unhappy/stressed me”, but change it into “happy/balanced me”. I’ve found that this is where most people get lost. Changing a variable in this equation is not as easy as math would make it seem. And, it’s by no means a novel idea. My generation is all about championing mental health. We are all highly aware of the self-care mantra everyone has been touting recently. And yet, having the knowledge to understand it, and being able to use it still proves to be so difficult that most people don’t bother. Or, if they’re anything like me, they start and stop so many times it would make your head spin.

Being a physical therapist and medical student, I feel like an absolute hypocrite. Hell, while going through PT school alone, I felt like an absolute hypocrite. Here I was learning about how to help others maintain not just their fitness, but their health as a whole, and I was directly defying that simple science (and I would dryly laugh with my friends as most of us were guilty of it). But let’s be honest, there is nothing simple about that science. They fool you into thinking its merely just calories in vs. calories out. But, what about the mindset? What about tackling what got someone to that point in the first place? There’s nothing simple about that. They teach us these theories on motivational interviewing and helping someone come to terms with their triggers and setting realistic “SMART” goals. All these theories are fantastic...as theories. Getting yourself to apply them is a whole other battle. And as a PT, getting your patients to apply them, while you yourself find the theories inconceivable, is a layered problem that I don’t even know how to begin to explain. 

When I started quarantine, my body was literally grasping at straws, craving for unhealthy carb-loaded, fried food. I longed for paninis & soups from Panera, large sodas & fries from McDonald’s, burrito bowls from Chipotle, and...well you get the idea. It was a routine for me. Go to school, come back home exhausted, stressed, or defeated from having swallowed the “constructive” (inner me would say crushing) critiques of my professors, and reward myself for my hard day’s work with a fast food meal. In that hour of eating, my misery was sated enough to work for the rest of the day without complaint. It was a system that got me through 7 years of stress. A system I felt guilty about, but don’t worry, because the food quelled that emotion too. At least, it did. Right up until the next morning, when I saw myself in the mirror and promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, only to break that promise that very day. Some days I could keep my promise for a week...even two...and then shit inevitably hits the fan. And suddenly (yet not unexpectedly), I find myself needing to eat out just to stop myself from breaking down entirely. Essentially, I always broke my promise. And just like that I tormented myself in this cycle, each year getting just a little bit worse. So subtle that I couldn’t even see what I was doing to myself.

Those broken promises added up not only to my weight gain but a deep mistrust in myself, which of course, showed up in other areas of my life too. I second guessed myself on the people I surrounded myself with, on clinical decisions for my patients, on exams, on whether I was capable of improving on the critiques I was receiving, on who the hell even allowed me into this field in the first place...??? And with each kind person, each correct clinical decision, each passed exam, each improved critique, and each authority figure telling me I belonged, I gained a deeper fear that the fall I was about to take was now going to be from a higher pedestal. In other words, I developed a severe case of imposter syndrome (a silly term my friends and I joke about having but deep down know it’s not really funny at all).

My triggers, my stress, my pain, and my award-winning cynicism aside, I see this quarantine as a universal intervention to give me time to breathe. I see it differently than what I saw it as 6 weeks ago, when I started. No longer a prison, and more a safe haven. A beautiful pause on a once dangerously high speed car chase of a lifestyle.

I still have a long way to go to get my health back to what it was before my years of higher education weighed down on me (figuratively & literally), but writing this is the farthest I have gotten in a very long time. It literally took a pandemic to uproot me from my unhealthy lifestyle, that I had dug myself into over the past 7 years, but I am happy that something good came out of something so horrific. And hopefully, as the pandemic dissipates, and the world resumes some semblance of normalcy, I can take what I’ve learned in this social distancing era with me.