#also like I love how principals will say that you shouldn’t work at a school if you hate kids

[hairenya]

I do think it’s really funny that I’ve tried quitting to 3 people at this point, all of whom have insisted I finish out this year, even after I repeatedly swore at the last AP I tried to quit to today, and literally no one will fire me or let me quit like damn y’all

#I don’t want to be a teacher anymore #I’m off tomorrow as a mental health day #I’m deadass just trying to get fired at this point and it has not been working out #so I’ve basically just decided that I’m henceforth going to do and say whatever tf I want #because they either fire me and I never have to see another bastard child again (win) #or I find out that I can actually in fact do whatever pleases me #which would also be a win #jlktalks. #YoU sIgNeD a 1 YeAr CoNtRaCt DoN’t YoU wAnT tO hOnOr ThAt CoMmItMeNt #bitch no #also like I love how principals will say that you shouldn’t work at a school if you hate kids #and that summers aren’t a good reason to teach and that this isn’t the job to sit down on #but then when you try to actually fucking quit they won’t let you?? #like sis I am trying to take your advice #I don’t even need a job lmao my dad pays my bills #or whenever you complain about something they say it’s part of the job #yeah which is why I don’t want to do this job anymore please just let me leave? #why is it so hard to get fired? #watch my dumbass still sign on next year too tho #adventures in teaching #am I secretly in prison?

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

Revenge

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Request HERE

Warnings: small acts of violence and bullying

Pairing: Wednesday x Fem!Reader

First request! Hopefully y’all like it and I hope I made the anon that asked this happy! Feel free to send in more requests🖤✨

———

That day you had been going through your English notes for the upcoming class, as the teacher would be making a test. It wasn’t one of your favorite subjects and that’s why you had really bad grades in English. You had tried asking your teacher for help or just what you could do better, but he wasn’t very helpful, he just scolded you saying to study harder.

You did study harder, however that wasn’t working because you had no method. By now you had been at Nevermore for almost the whole semester, yet you didn’t seem to have made good friends with anyone. You only spoke a couple of times with Wednesday and Enid, those were the only two people that didn’t judge you and that you trusted.

“Studying again, (Y/N)?” One of the students asked you. You immediately recognized him. He was a gorgon, friends with Ajax. Though Ajax never tried bothering you, knowing that it was dangerous if he messed with you and also because well, he was a good guy. Though this other kid apparently didn’t care about how dangerous you could get and loved messing with you.

“What do you want Nicholas?” You replied annoyed but at the same time scared. You hated when he would come bother you. “Oh nothing, I’ve just come to remind you that there’s no use in studying English, you’re still gonna suck!” He laughed at you. He wasn’t wrong, but why would he come bother you about that? It wasn’t any of his business.

“Well why do you care if I study or not? It shouldn’t concern you.” You stood up from your sitting position and decided to face him, finally standing up for yourself “that’s the point (Y/N), no one cares for you!” Rage was starting to build up, the feelings knotting up in your stomach “don’t you see that? We’re trying to make you understand that you’re useless here!” He laughed again.

Everyone’s eyes turned to you and him, all of them circling around you or looking from their tables. You were getting visibly upset “you will take back your words” you said in a low voice tone, trying to remain calm. You clenched your jaw and fists, knuckles going white as you so badly tried to remain calm. It was a sunny day, but now in consequence to your anger the weather suddenly changed. Dark clouds floating over the school and wind rising up.

“Or what, your friends will come to the rescue? Wait, you don’t have any, my bad!” He laughed again, your breath getting faster and the nails were now cutting in your palm from how tight you were clenching it, blood coming out from it. “Stop it now.” You warned again. The anger was getting so much. Eventually you started floating, slowly going higher as Nicholas in front of you kept on laughing at you.

“Nico, maybe you should stop. We don’t know what she’s capable of-“ Ajax said trying to make him stop, but to no avail as Nico pushed him away. “Well she can’t kill me. And what she gonna do if I don’t stop, will she go to mama?” He said insisting with his bullying, then turning to look at you, slowly rising higher “oh right, you don’t have one!”

This was the ice on the cake, you couldn’t bare it anymore “THAT’S ENOUGH!” You snapped at him. A wave of strength washing over the whole courtyard but especially on Nico, making him fly back and hit the close by wall badly. At that people started running away scared, as your madness had taken control over your body. You started taking people with your telekinesis and throwing them against walls or even on the ground, even innocent people, teachers too. Chaos reigned over the school and it was all because of you. You were crying and screaming, all this bullying wasn’t fair. Why you, you always thought

Principal Weems had seen from her office to see what was going on and it was truly an utter disaster. She came down to see and as everyone was running away and someone else was being smashed around, she went to Enid and Wednesday who were hiding behind a wall. “We need to stop her or she’ll end up hurting everyone” Wednesday started once she saw Weems. “Miss Addams, she’ll hurt you too if you get any closer-“ the younger girl was quick to interrupt her. “She knows us. Not very good, but she can trust us and she knows that. We need to go” she said and took Enid’s by her wrist, getting closer to you.

“(Y/N), you need to calm down” Enid started, taking more steps closer to you “GET AWAY FROM HERE!” You yelled back and sent a “wind wave” their way. Not too strong, but it was enough to make them stop their tracks, though not wanting hurt them. “(Y/N) please. You’re not in your right mind space right now. You’re hurting people” this time it was Weems talking. She still stood behind the wall, not wanting to get hurt as well.

“Get away, let me try. She can sense you’re scared and she’s taking advantage of your fears. Let me try, she won’t hurt me.” Wednesday started with determination. Enid Nodded with hesitance and stepped back, going to where the principal was. “(Y/N), it’s me, Wednesday” she started, staring at your floating frame in the eyes. Your (e/c) eyes had turned completely black and your expression was infuriated.

“Please calm down. You’re not alone okay? He’s a jerk. You have me, you have Enid and even if we do not know each other much you know you can still count on us” she was slowly getting closer to you and you were letting her. The wether was still the same, it felt as if a storm was coming your way “try matching your breathing mine. Okay? Come on” she said in a surprising soft voice tone as she took deep breaths and invited you to do so as a well.

You started breathing with her and slowly, the weather went back to normal and you returned to the ground looking disoriented. You knew what had happened, but couldn’t brace yourself to accept it. You were weak, this tantrum had drained all of your strength and you fell in Wednesday arms as soon as you touched the ground. She took you and sat down on the floor, you in her lap as she held you, arms wrapped tightly around you as she gently caressed the back of your head“there there… you’re okay” she was whispering into your ear as she motioned for Enid and Weems to come over and help her take you to your room.

As soon as you were there, the principal said it would have been better to leave you alone, but Wednesday insisted on staying. She sat on a chair by your bed as she watched you sleep, while holding your hand in complete silence. Eventually though you woke up abruptly, sitting up and panting, eyes searching around the room until you met Wednesday’s eyes. “Shh… you’re okay dear, you’re okay” she said, moving to sit on the bed by your side as she grabbed your shoulders and gently brushed her hands on them, waiting for you to calm down.

“I’m sorry for what I did… I lost control..” you looked down, tears in your eyes that you let go of. “It’s okay, he deserved it and knew best not to bother you… even though I would have ended him” she said which made a small laugh escape your lips. “Though he was right. I have no friends, I’m all alone and I’m useless… my dad would say the same things to me… it felt almost as if I was a child again. It felt horrible…” you started and covered your face as you began crying. Wednesday sighed sadly and gently took your hands, holding them and inviting you to look at her, while her other hand was moving strands away from your face delicately.

“That’s not true and you know it. You have Enid, you have Me. We care about you. We love you, I love you and we don’t show it enough but we do. So never say you’re alone because we’re here for you okay?” She said, slightly hinting a smile as she ended up caressing your cheek with her thumb. You nodded and smiled back as you laid back in bed. Did she just say she loved you? Yes she did, but you thought that maybe it was just in a friendly way, even though you admitted you had a crush on her multiple times. You didn’t expect her to, but she slid under the blankets and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer as the big spoon.

“Turn around” Wednesday whispered in your ear and you turned around to face her. Both of you didn’t speak, sharing looks was enough as you noticed how much she softened around you. She pulled you even closer and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead “I promise I’ll protect you from now on. No one will ever bother you again unless they want to lose their lives” she said and that made you smile as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. God that smell of hers, it made you feel at ease.

She slightly moved you away from her to look at you, and you thought that maybe you had gone too far. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“ she was quick to shut you up moving closer to make both of your lips meet. She was caressing your cheek and pulling you closer with her other hand. Her soft lips didn’t want to rush anything, she didn’t want anything except to feel you close to her like she has always wanted. When both of you pulled back, there was no need to talk as she looked at you with the biggest smile she ever gave you and planted another kiss on your forehead. You were both asleep soon after.

#wednesday #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday adams #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega

[mcheang]

Revelation AU

What if Felix took Adrien’s place again the day Lila tried to take over class rep duties.

Let’s just say thanks to his stalking, Felix knows Lila is a liar who makes Adrien uncomfortable and Marinette unhappy. He warns Kagami about it, who in turn wishes to expose Lila after being manipulated by her.

Knowing Lila has had too much time to sway the school to her side, Felix proposes an idea but needs Kagami’s help. Like Lila, Felix is a master at deception, at least when pretending to be Adrien.

When Gabriel fires Lila Rossi, Felix suspected Lila would want revenge on Adrien to hurt Gabriel. As such, he insisted that he take Adrien’s place for that day in school. Kagami lured Adrien and knocked him unconscious, allowing Felix to take his place while Kagami stayed with Adrien to keep him from interrupting their plan.

When Marinette tried to argue that Chloe should be punished for cheating, and how Caline suggested that Chloe was going to need a lot of work, Lila suggested she take over Marinette’s duties since Marinette is too busy with her love life.

Felix: I’m sorry, Lila. It’s just what you said. The reason you were not around to vote for Marinette is because you were on one of your MANY trips for charity. I know you’ve had more time for us now, except last I heard, you said you were going overseas. I know you’ll try to be there for us, but we all know how you can’t help answering the call for help from your many other friends overseas, even changing your plans at the last minute because you told us how much you cherish bonds overseas, knowing you can’t dismiss friendship that easily.

And just like that, Lila is also unreliable for being class president.

Lila: I will try to be there for the rest of the school year, even my mother put her foot down about that.

Felix quickly interrupts: Oh no! Are you that exhausted? We shouldn’t put more pressure on her.

Lila: But I have more free time on my hands.

Felix: Um, I heard you refuse to join Mylene’s cause to help Ramier’s cause to build pigeon shelters next week. And Marinette is not even going to be there! Not to mention I’m worried that Chloe might take advantage of you like she’s taking advantage of Sabrina, she’s already trying to take back power, but we all know that Chloe will dump her deputy duties on Sabrina, again. You’re too nice, Lila.

No matter what Lila says, Felix is ready to counter her.

And then comes the killing blow

Felix: I know you mean well, but my father also told about your special disease

He looked at Miss Caline Bustier, who now recalls Lila’s lying disorder

Felix: It’s embarrassing but my father does do background checking, Principal Damocles told him about your uncontrollable lying disease. I know Miss Bustier wanted to keep this a secret so we would not worry over you like we do over Rose, but we’re your friends Lila, you don’t have to hide this from us.

Alya is unsure if Adrien is telling the truth or he really wants to defend Marinette

Caline: I think you’re right Adrien. Lila needs all the support she can get, and she can only get that if we help her be honest

She just confirmed what “Adrien“ said.

The class is stunned. Lila really was a liar. And Ms Bustier did not even tell them. It was hard to tell whether their feelings of betrayal were directed more towards their naive teacher or Lila.

Lila herself was feeling quite furious with Adrien.

Naturally Hawkmoth was attracted to the akuma class…again.

He sensed Lila Rossi’s hatred to Adrien. Not a good idea. (Sure Lila tried to direct some hatred Marinette’s way but the latter was clearly surprised by Adrien’s move). Nathalie was already breathing down his neck on his treatment of Adrien.

Someone else in the class will have to do.

There was obviously a divide.

Some actually thought Lila had a lying disorder and could not control it.

Others like Alya Cesaire were immediately apologetic for not believing Marinette, cursing their own gullibility, and angry at Ms Bustier for keeping it from them.

Yes, Alya’s guilt was prime for akumatization.

Except…what is this? Her resistance to the akuma…it was so similar to…Viperion/Luka. Alya knows Ladybug’s secret identity.

True, Alya rejected the akuma and Hawkmoth summoned it back, but the idea that two friends of his son knew Ladybug suggested the possibility that the heroine herself was within Adrien’s social circle.

But who? He had akumatized most of them. All except…Marientte Dupain-Cheng!

Oh wait. If Alya is aware that Marinette is Ladybug, how could she actually believe that Ladybug is best friends with Lila?

No one is that stupid.

He discusses this with Nathalie.

Nathalie: but Alya is that gullible. Didn’t she believe Chloe of all people was Ladybug? Despite witnessing Ladybug saving Chloe from Stoneheart?

A pause.

Gabriel: it’s time we invited Marinette to our home again. It will be a chance for Adrien to tell her about his trip to London. (Aka akumatize and see if she really is Ladybug)

Meanwhile, Alya confessed Monarch discovered she knows Ladybug and has to leave town. She joins Luka with his dad and Penny.

Marinette feels guilty for telling Alya the truth. Tikki reminds her that Alya knowing has helped her before.

Before Alya left with Luka, the latter warned Marinette to be careful with her secret identity. “Monarch might decide to investigate our common friends. And you’re the one of the few he hasn’t akumatized.”

Marinette: few…Adrien! Wait, what am I saying, Adrien can’t be confused for Ladybug.

At the invitation for brunch, Gabriel knew Marinette was still oblivious to Adrien’s impending departure (he would have akumatized her otherwise).

Gabriel: I wouldn’t want to keep two lovebirds apart in these precious moments Adrien has in Paris.

Adrien dropped his fork. “Father!”

Marinette looked at her boyfriend in concern. “Adrien, what’s wrong?”

Gabriel: you didn’t tell her?

Adrien shut his eyes. “I’m moving to London at the end of the school year.”

Gabriel: as soon as the school day is over, he’ll be packing his bags.

Adrien: but I’ll miss the dance!

Gabriel: so is Kagami but I don’t hear her complaining to her mother.

Marinette understood immediately. Gabriel disapproved of her so much, he was willing to send Adrien away, take him away from his friends. “You can’t do that! It’s not right!”

“Oh, and what would you know of right, Ms Dupain Cheng. My own surveillance cameras have caught you spying on my house. Your male friends threw a wild party under my very roof while I was absent, draining even my back up power reserves. I’ve already shown my generosity by not suing them for the power disruption or demanding a restraining order on your presence. Do not test my patience.”

Marinette and Adrien were horrified, for different reasons. Adrien knew about Marinette’s stalker habits already but to hear that his father was capable of using the law to punish his friends…he knew he needed to tread carefully. Marinette was horrified to see her own flaws turned against her.

Gabriel settled down, forcing a smile on his face as he civilly asked, “And what do you think of my pancakes now, Marinette. Do you think my new recipe is better than before?”

Both knew they could not insult him and make their own situation worse, not when Gabriel has already proven himself of capable of following up his own threats.

“It’s certainly efficient,” Marinette finally managed.

They finished the breakfast in silence. Gabriel happily eating his pancakes. Marinette and Adrien holding hands tightly under the table.

Nathalie came in. “Adrien, your piano teacher is here.”

Gabriel: it’s been nice having you here again, Marinette. But good times never last long.

It took all Marinette’s willpower not to run or call Gabriel out for his cruelty. As soon as the coast was clear, she sank down against the wall and cried.

Her despair just begging Monarch to akumatize her.

Unfortunately for him, Tikki was also on alert should Marinette be depressed enough for an akuma. (Being in an akumatized purse was not fun!)

Tikki: Marinette, an akuma!

Marinette freaked and ran, worried that Ladybug’s immediate purification would give her identity away.

Rather than let the butterfly go rogue and cause another startrain, Monarch summoned the butterfly back. He can be patient. Sooner or later, Marinette has to break down and he will be ready.

Knowing she had to stay positive, Marinette devotes her energy to try to be optimistic, thinking of how she can get Gabriel to change his mind, or ways to make a long distance relationship work.

This was enough to make Gabriel give up and instead wait for Adrien to leave for London.

By that time, Marinette had already tried several plans to convince Gabriel to stay. She got Wayhem to organize Adrien’s fans to strike about Adrien’s departure but was countered by Gabriel saying Paris was too dangerous for Adrien. She threaten to call child care services except Adrien (influenced by the Graham wedding rings) vetoes this plan. She considered using Cosmobug to visit Adrien except Marinette doesn’t have the money or time to make such frequent visits plausible.

Eventually Marinette came to accept Adrien’s departure and both agree to work out a long distance relationship.

Gabriel is extremely disappointed that Marinette isn’t more unhappy when Adrien leaves. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. project Alliance will continue as plan.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #révélation au #Lila is exposed #Lila gets exposed

[threewaysdivided]

(same anon that asked about YJ Phantoms) I'd love to read a critic on Harry Potter one day because you'd have a lot of interesting things to say.

(follow up from this ask)

Good to hear from you again nonnie!

I’m very flattered that you’d like to hear my comments on Harry Potter but… I don’t think I’d have a lot to add? 😅  I wrote most of my Young Justice meta-analyses because I’d noticed some specific structural and writing patterns that weren’t being discussed in the wider fandom critiques, and I wanted to change that.  (A lot of people were pointing to the time-skips and specific characterisation issues but not many seemed to be touching on Thematic Contradiction, Scope Management or the Side Quest problem, for example.)  Meanwhile, Harry Potter has been dissected to the moon and back with a fine tooth comb – there isn’t much I could say that hasn’t already been said better, more eloquently and in more detail elsewhere.

If you put the Harry Potter books in a bubble, my takes are actually pretty mild.  The books were important to me.  I was a 90s kid who read alongside releases throughout primary school.  I was a pretty big Potter-head at the time - I was daydreaming Potter fanfiction before I even knew what fanfic was.  I think it certainly had an influence on my modern taste in literature; there’s a reason I gravitate towards fantasy and mystery as my comfort genres (I’m currently having quite a bit of fun with The Dresden Files). 

On a technical level, Joanne Rowling was a decent writer.  I think she’s strongest at emotional and character-writing, and she kept a consistent theme of love/grief/family/loss going throughout the series.  Her use of mystery as a secondary structure to add pull makes the stories engaging and satisfying to “solve” on re-read.  Her prose and dialogue was quite snappy – it flows and reads well, and there are some very quintessentially British-humour lines that made me smile each time.

Where she was weakest, in my opinion, was sociological storytelling and worldbuilding.  There are some unquestioned biases and blind-spots in her writing (especially around stuff like the house-elves, the goblins, certain character descriptions and how she treats the status quo).   I generally agree with the sentiment that her worldbuilding wasn’t necessarily the most original – not as derivative as Eragon (which I also liked) could be in places, but nothing especially new – although that’s more of a subjective note than a great artistic sin, and Harry Potter was a good execution of that well-trodden ground.  There are definitely times when you can tell she was figuring things out as she went – some of her dates don’t line up and there are a few moments in early books where characters break “laws of magic” that she would later retcon-in (Mrs Weasley shouldn’t have been able to make sauce pour out of her wand in Book 2 according to the Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration introduced in Book 7 and, based on the rules introduced in Book 6, Hagrid shouldn’t have been able to disapparate away from the station platform when Harry wasn’t looking in Book 1).  And of course, the infamous “vanishing poop” tweet.  In a bubble, pretty average, for-their-time 1990s fumbles from a debut children’s fiction author.  Flawed but in a mostly harmless, kind of charming way. 

I’m also pretty iffy on the movie adaptations, which have been generally… okay.  They showcased some good practical effects work and cinematography, but I never really felt they captured the magic (pun intended) or nuance that I enjoyed, due to the cuts and changes needed to fit the screentime.  That’s kind of my general vibe with a lot of adaptations, though – with a few exceptions I generally prefer to experience stories in their original intended medium.

However, we do also have to take the books out of their bubble and discuss the context of Rowling’s current politics.  I think it is not appropriate for people to try and erase her authorship of the books, or the way her largely open and accepting stance towards fan-content (in comparison to more litigious predecessors and contemporaries) contributed to the current state of modern fandom.  Their popularity and widespread influence makes them an important cultural touchstone and point of reference for their time period, and I think we do a disservice by pretending them away or acting like there’s nothing to be learned from their success just because we disagree with the author now. 

That being said, however, in the present Joanne Rowling is using the clout and funding she receives from the Harry Potter franchise to push policies and rhetoric that actively make life harder and more dangerous for transgender people (and has dragged in the neurodivergent community as a rhetorical device).  She has also expressed that she considers support for Harry Potter to be tacit endorsement of those politics.  Unlike past problematic-but-influential authors like Howard Phillips Lovecraft, Rowling is alive, politically active and benefiting from fandom engagement - and so the relationship between her work, her work’s fans and her current politics has tangible impact on real people.  I think it is up to every fan to decide how they personally want to navigate that difficult and at-times painful environment.

Personally, my decision (and this is just my decision) for handling that has been to pull away from Harry Potter as both a franchise and a fandom until such time as Joanne either revaluates her stance on transgender people, retires from public politics, passes away (provided she doesn’t will ongoing profits to anti-trans causes), or her books become public domain.  I still have the books I was gifted in the 90s, but there is a reason I generally haven’t shared or promoted Harry Potter content (even fandom stuff) to my blog for a few years.  Hopefully that will one day change, but until/unless that happens, I probably won’t be doing that kind of deep dive.

Instead, here are some videos that I found particularly interesting when thinking about the writing, implications and adaptations of the series:

Just Write: Construction of Mysteries in Harry Potter | Fantastic Beasts: Revisiting Mystery Construction

Quinn Curio: What Went Weird With Ron in Adaptation | Does Draco Need Redemption? | Why Does Slytherin Still Exist?

Pop Culture Detective: Newt Scamander and Empathetic Masculinity

Dominic Noble: Lost In Adaptation – The Harry Potter-athon [Playlist]

And here are a couple on Rowling’s current politics:

ContraPoints: JK Rowling and the Sociopolitical History of Transphobia | The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling

SuperGeekMike: How Creators Become Their Villains

Dominic Noble: A Harry Potter Fanboy's Response To J.K. Rowling

If you’re looking for other fantasy book recommendations I would heartily suggest Tamora Pierce.  Specifically the Song of the Lioness series (4 books), its sequel Protector of the Small (also 4 books) and the unrelated the Circle of Magic universe (2 sets of 4 books plus an epilogue and 2 side-stories).  Pierce writes to roughly the same reading-level as Rowling, and her books are a mix of magic, character- and mystery-driven. I would say she’s overall stronger at original magic systems and worldbuilding.  She also has her own interesting relationship to fandom (being a former fan-writer herself) and a feminist streak, with books that focus on young heroines without being dominated by romances.   They can be a bit hard to find in print these days but if you can they’re well worth your time.

For sassy British kids and urban fantasy, also consider Jonathon Stroud’s Lockwood & Co (recently adapted to a Netflix series) and his slightly-older Bartimaeus Sequence.  Again really fun worldbuilding, snappy prose and dialogue, and a generally good romp.  Lockwood is a ghost-hunting story and Bartimaeus uses demon summonings as its core worldbuilding conceit so if you like a little more horror in your fantasy then these will be a good time for you.

Hopefully that makes up for yet another doughnut! 🍩

#Double doughnuts for you today nonnie #sorry #I promise I do talk about interesting fun stuff sometimes #you just happened to double-bullseye two slightly thorny topics for me #have some vids and book recs instead! #Harry Potter #JK Rowling #book recs #writing analysis #anonymous #3WD answers

[shiningwonderland]

Cecil Aijima (Repeat)

Translator: Raz (twitter: agnadance) Proofreader: Sera (twitter: serayagami) Editors: Melanie (twitter: melabonbon), Plaid (twitter: cecillovemail)

June — Turn your excitement into an a capella

It’s now June, the rainy season.

After I wake up, I check the date on my alarm clock to find that it's definitely June.

Haruka Nanami: June….

No matter how many times I look, nothing changes. It was April just two days ago.

That means tomorrow is… July. A whole school term will end in an instant. Even though I finally got into Saotome Academy....

And I had decided to work so hard to become a professional composer….

Originally, I was supposed to go to school for just one year, but a sixth of it has already passed.

Time keeps slipping away and I can’t do anything about it…. I have to do something…. As quickly as possible….

Thunk.

I hear a sound from my mailbox.

Haruka Nanami: A package?

My cell phone won’t even connect…

The day Satan possessed the principal, the entirety of Saotome Academy was blocked off from the rest of the world.

Phones won’t connect and an invisible wall prevents us from going outside. I can’t even get in contact with my parents.

Cecil theorized that the principal had probably placed a barrier around the school before attempting to summon the goddess of music and that that was why the school is closed off from the outside world.

This was to prevent the worst-case scenario from happening in case he summoned something bad.

I think the barrier is working. However, Satan’s power is so strong that the outside world is also being influenced by his power.

Even so, to think that he put up a barrier beforehand…. The principal really is amazing. He thought out all possible outcomes.

Maybe if I hadn’t been there and it had only been the principal, then maybe he would have been able to do something….

I have to keep trying….

Anyway, I need to collect the music sheets as quickly as possible and seal Satan.

Haruka Nanami: But before that, I have to see what I got in the mail.

I fearfully open the post box lid.

There's an envelope inside.

Haruka Nanami: I wonder who this is from? Maybe this is from Hyuga-sensei or Ittoki-kun….

I cut open the envelope.

But there is something unexpected inside the envelope….

Dear Haruka Nanami-sama,

I love you!

I can’t forget the first day I met you

and my heart keeps pining for you.

For so many nights, I haven’t been able to sleep.

These passionate urges keep piercing my heart.

My heart keeps screaming, "I want you!"

I can’t hold it in anymore.

If this letter reaches you,

then wait for me under the legendary apple tree.

I don’t want you to come with anybody.

Just come by yourself….

I will be waiting for you here

no matter how long it takes,

I'll be waaaiting~!

— Tokiya Ichinose

Haruka Nanami: Uuuuum….

Select the phrase!

Love letter? (+5 Love +0 Music)

It sure looks like one… But maybe it could be one of those pranks where it’s supposed to look like a love letter.

We haven’t even met each other that often; it doesn’t make sense that he would send me such a passionate letter.

On top of that, I’ve never received a love letter in my entire life.

I’m not even sure if this is supposed to be a love letter.

Kuppuru: This is a… trap. This letter… I feel Satan’s presence from it….

Kuppuru peeks at the letter as he spoke.

Kuppuru: You shouldn’t go.

He looks at me with a serious gaze.

Select the phrase!

If that’s so, then I should definitely go. (+25 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: I have to save him….

Kuppuru: Is that so... You have a point.... But, you have feelings for….

Haruka Nanami: What?

Kuppuru: No… it’s nothing…. I can’t let you go alone. I will go with you.

Haruka Nanami: But…. The letter said to come alone….

Kuppuru: I won’t let you go!! I don’t want to… let you go…. Haruka… please kiss me….

He looks at me with pitiful eyes.

Select the phrase!

Don’t stop me. (+25 Love +5 Music)

Kuppuru: You are kind, so I knew you would say that. But I don’t want to let you go.

There is probably no reason… for this impulse. I’m just scared… That’s all….

Please let me go with you… not in this form, but as Cecil. I want you to let me be at your side…. Please… I beg of you….

Haruka Nanami: But… If I kiss you, Cecil-san won’t let me go. I’m sorry!

I turn my back to Kuppuru and run away.

There might be a chance that I can save him. I can't just ignore him!

Haruka Nanami: I wonder if Ichinose-san... is waiting for me....

When I arrive where the letter said to meet up, who I see isn't Ichinose-san but HAYATO-sama....

Haruka Nanami: Eh.... HAYATO...sama.... Why are you here?

HAYATO: That's... well... I... Tokiya Ichinose... am HAYATO himself.

I hear a loud gust.

A strong wind blows through and rustles our hair and clothes.

Haruka Nanami: The one... and the same? That... can't be... you're different people.... You said that yourself....

HAYATO: Yes, I had to give you that excuse. I was hiding who I really was because it would’ve been bad if everyone knew.

Haruka Nanami: Is that… true…?

HAYATO: Yes. HAYATO is me. And HAYATO is the one you love.

Isn’t that so, Haruka Nanami-san?

HAYATO-sama smirks.

He never made such a wicked smile on TV….

HAYATO-sama…. Is this Satan’s curse as well? I want him to return to normal as quickly as possible.

Haruka Nanami: ….

HAYATO-sama is….

Select the phrase!

An idol. (+0 Love +5 Music)

Haruka Nanami: HAYATO-sama sings and dances, and just seeing that brings me so much joy. He is just that amazing of an idol.

HAYATO-sama’s smile is like the sun, and…. And he has never made such a sinister face before….

Haruka Nanami: … so HAYATO-sama is Ichinose-san, and Ichinose-san is HAYATO-sama….

So the person in front of me is HAYATO-sama, and also Ichinose-san….

My mind goes blank with confusion.

HAYATO: You love HAYATO. Isn’t that true?

He places his hands on my shoulders from behind and whispers in my ear.

Haruka Nanami: Eh… uh... um….

HAYATO: Haruka-chan, I love you!

Haruka Nanami: ...!!!

HA-HAYATO-SAMA!!!

Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-what do I do!?

I need to calm down. Th-this is just a curse… Satan’s… the principal….

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

HAYATO: I want you to accept this. My love….

L-love!? Nonono. Nope! Nope!!! This is straight out of a dream!!

HAYATO: Why…? My love for you is deeper than music. Love me… more than music….

Wh-wh-wh-why? B-because… Ichinose-san is the S-class’s top student and….

He is an amazing person whose music and performance are perfect. HAYATO-sama is an extremely popular idol.

I-I’m just a failure of a student.... And….

Ichinose-san would never say anything like this. He’s so cool, even when female students talk to him, he doesn’t give them special treatment..

He is more sincere about music than anybody…. So…. This is wrong… this is just wrong….

HAYATO: Now… I will become one with you….

His lips slowly approach mine.

Haruka Nanami: Uh... um…!!

I… I can’t!!

This is wrong. This isn’t how he really is. I don’t like this…

I love HAYATO-sama. I’ve always looked up to him, but this is so wrong.

Aaah… But I can’t look away. My body won’t move…

Wh-why?? Is this... Satan’s curse?

Kuppuru: Get away from her!!

Suddenly, Kuppuru lunges at Ichinose-san.

He then swiftly jumps onto my shoulder and comes close to my face….

Haruka Nanami: Ah… no…! Mm...!

He kisses me.

Cecil Aijima: I won’t let you have her!

Cecil-san blocks me with his shoulder to protect me.

... Cecil-san, is he angry?

Cecil-san is always so gentle, but now he is making such a scary face.

HAYATO: You won’t let me have her, you say…? I don’t think you have any say in the matter, though.

However, you got in the way…. Just a little bit more and I would have….

You and her… Nanami-kun’s contract…. If she were to kiss anyone else, that contract of yours would break, am I correct?

The contract would break with a kiss? Does that mean he was trying to break the contract between me and Cecil-san?

Haruka Nanami: The contract… would break?

HAYATO: Ahh, you didn’t know, did you? I said too much…. But you cannot resist my kiss.

Your face earlier…. You were unmistakably desiring me… HAYATO….

Yes, isn’t that right? Haruka-chan.

BA-DUMP!!

I know. I know he’s brainwashed by Satan, but….

Whenever HAYATO-sama smiles at me, my heart leaps out of my chest!

B-but a kiss…. That moment, I faltered.

Even though I love and look up to HAYATO-sama so much, I….

Cecil Aijima: Silence! I won’t let you speak any further. She is my… my only… soulmate. My eternal Mana.

HAYATO: You seem desperate. You even look a bit pitiful to me. Ah, I see now.

How about we compete to see who can make her heart flutter first? We will see who can passionately romance her.... Who would be loved….

Let’s have her decide herself. If you both really love each other, then my words shouldn’t reach her.

Isn’t that right? Or do you not have any confidence? You’re her so-called soulmate.

Cecil Aijima: Urgh…!!!

U-um… wait…. What is he trying to start here?

A competition to make my heart flutter?

Wh-what!!

Ichinose-san is HAYATO-sama, he’s so admirable and….

Cecil-san is… Cecil-san is… my….

HAYATO: Then I will go first.

He stands between me and Cecil-san and grabs me by the arm and pulls me towards his chest.

Haruka Nanami: Eh…!?

HAYATO: Hey, do you remember the first day we met? You called me HAYATO-sama.

Ah…. That’s right, I saw Ichinose-san at the entrance ceremony and mistook him for HAYATO-sama.

B-but, at that time he said he was his twin, but he really is the one and the same.

But why? HAYATO-sama is already an idol.

Why would he want to become an idol again…?

HAYATO: I pretended to be calm then, but I was actually flustered. You were just so cute.

Haruka Nanami: C-cute!!! I-I-I’m not that cute at all!

Aaah, I’m so happy even if you’re just saying that!

Wait, noooo!

This is Satan’s curse and the actual person isn’t thinking that at all! There’s no way he’s thinking that!

I have to run away. I…. My heart can’t take it.

But…. When Ichinose-san looks at me, my head gets all fuzzy and my body becomes limp.

Is this the charm of a super idol? I can’t… run away….

Aaaaaaah… I know that I have to resist…. But....

HAYATO: I knew you liked HAYATO from the start. I always wanted to gaze upon you.

The moment I saw you, I fell in love.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! HA-HAYATO-sama…. This can’t be real….

N-now he looks like HAYATO-sama but HAYATO-sama is Ichinose-san and….

Ichinose-san is usually very calm and would never say something like that….

Ah, but, HAYATO-sama…. He is everybody’s idol and would say this on TV for fan-service….

My head explodes.

My brain… short-circuits.... Smoke billows from my head….

Right at that moment…

Cecil-san puts his hand on my shoulder and pulls me away from Ichinose-san. Then….

Cecil Aijima: Haruka. My sweetheart. You are my light.

Cecil-san kneels before me and takes my hand.

Cecil Aijima: You give me a reason to live. You are my entire life. Please give me your love….

He kisses the back of my hand and looks at me with watery eyes.

So… So lovely….

Once he does that, Ichinose-san hugs me from behind.

HAYATO: You…. Only you understand my loneliness. I want to push the boundaries of music. I cannot sing earnestly unless it is your music.

Haruka…. Save me…. Please release me from this darkness.

He whispers in my ear, releases his hold, and looks at me straight on.

HAYATO: Only you can do that. So please… I love you.

There is sincerity in his eyes. I don’t really feel like he’s lying to me.

He is in pain. He is stricter on himself than anybody else and he deeply loves music more than anybody else.

Such a person is pleading for me to save him. If I could help him, I would, but….

HAYATO: So… kiss me….

Ichinose-san closes his eyes and his lips draw closer.

I-I’m going to be kissed at this rate….

Cecil Aijima: You can’t….

Suddenly Cecil’s arm reaches out and holds onto me.

Cecil Aijima: Don’t be fooled by him…. He is fake…. He’s not his true self.

Haruka Nanami: But…. What should I do….

Cecil Aijima: Convey your feelings in song.

Select the phrase!

I see. If it’s music… (+25 Love +5 Music)

When I say that, Cecil-san smiles.

Cecil Aijima: Let’s release him. If his love for music is real, there is something better than words to convey your feelings.

You, too… together….

Haruka Nanami: Y-yes.

Speak not words but sing love from the heart.

To convey with “music.”

We meld our voices and sing together.

It’s so mysterious; this is the first time we've sung together, but our voices meld so well that it feels nice. It even feels nice.

It doesn’t feel awkward at all. The pleasurable harmony passes through my ears and reaches into my heart. When we finish, Ichinose-san applauds us.

His eyes are still blank, and only his hands are moving stiffly.

HAYATO: Song… the true.... It touches my heart…. … music… this is… song…. Song’s… true quality… I….

Ichinose-san is wavering? Maybe Satan’s curse on him is breaking.

Haruka Nanami: Ichinose-san! ... HAYATO-sama! I love your music!

You are always so direct and you pursue music so seriously. Isn’t that true?

If that’s not true, there’s no way you can sing that way! Let’s… take back our songs! You can’t be defeated by Satan!

If this keeps up, music will disappear from our world. Are you okay with that?!

HAYATO: Song… music… Once more… Ah…. AAAAAAARGH!

Ichinose-san screams with all his might. He is probably fighting the evil in his heart.

Then… A black cloud emerges from Ichinose-san’s body and disappears.

HAYATO: Ha… ha… ha… I… cannot throw music away… I have to… take music back….

Cecil Aijima: Haruka. Now is the time.

Haruka Nanami: Yes!

Cecil-san and I put our hands together and place them over Ichinose-san’s chest.

Cecil Aijima: Muse, give us your blessing….

Haruka Nanami: The melody of the wandering goddess.

Cecil Aijima: Show us your true form!

A swirl of light overflows from Ichinose-san’s body and takes form.

Musical notes of light float in the air.

The musical notes line up and shine brightly.

A sheet of music takes form.

HAYATO: A music sheet…. What is this? What was I doing right up until now….

Haruka Nanami: Thank goodness, the curse broke.

HAYATO: Curse? Wha— Why am I wearing HAYATO’s outfit….

Haruka Nanami: Um… you were cursed by the king of the demons, Satan.

HAYATO: … I see. A curse you say…. That is illogical, but it seems like it’s the truth.

We explain the situation to Ichinose-san, lead Ichinose-san to the secret base where Ittoki-kun is, and return to the dorms.

Haruka Nanami: I’m glad… we obtained the music sheet.

Even though we managed to retrieve the second music sheet, Cecil-san looks displeased and hangs his head.

Haruka Nanami: Cecil... san.

I look at Cecil-san’s face and he suddenly embraces me.

Cecil Aijima: You are…. You are my one and only soulmate.

My irreplaceable, one and true, honest love.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… the competition is over….

Cecil Aijima: That’s not it! I’m serious... I really, truly….

I won’t let anybody touch you. I love you so much it’s maddening.

Please do not let your lips touch anybody else’s but mine.

Haruka Nanami: Ah, yes, if the contract breaks, that would be a problem…. I will be more careful from now on.

Cecil Aijima: No… that’s… not what I meant…. If your lips were taken by somebody else…. My heart would be torn asunder and I would perish.

His arms tighten around me. Cecil-san embraces me tightly, as if he's clinging to me.

Haruka Nanami: Cecil-san….

Cecil Aijima: … I’m sorry… I… got distressed…,

The way you laid your eyes on him… I couldn’t bear to watch…. So I forcefully kissed you.

Even though I decided to wait for you… and not kiss you until you loved me back… I could not contain my urge.

I’m… so sorry. You were so against kissing him as well.

I did the same thing to you. I am… deeply sorry.

As he says that, he sheds many tears.

Haruka Nanami: Eh!? U-um… don’t cry…. It’s fine….

I'm... not used to kissing, so I don’t want to do it so casually but… I’m not mad, considering the situation.

Cecil Aijima: Really…?

Haruka Nanami: Yes. You were trying to save me that time….

Cecil Aijima: Haruka…. Thank you. My beloved. My sweetheart.

Haruka Nanami: Cecil-san….

It’s been three days since I met Cecil-san. Why does this person love me so much?

While I am fascinated by him, I have difficulty gauging how much distance to put between us.

Mini Game

After yesterday’s pop quiz, Hyuga-sensei told me, “Do this when you have time,” and handed me a CD with a program for learning how to write lyrics.

There was a memo attached to the CD that said, “Even though it’s rough right now, try your best.”

Haruka Nanami: … Sensei, thank you. I will use this as best as I can.

Let’s see…. “Complete the lyrics to the following song,” it says.

I have never written lyrics before. So I am a bit nervous…. I wonder if I can do it….

Haruka Nanami: Ah, I don’t have to write all of it. If that’s the case, maybe I can do it.

Okay, I’ll give it a try.

S Rank

Cecil Aijima: A thousand words do not compare to one, single song. Your composition and your heart’s voice—I can’t help but love everything about you.

He nimbly reaches his arms around me from behind and embraces me.

Haruka Nanami: Ce... Cecil-san….

Since when…? I was so engrossed in the lyrics that I didn’t notice him.

I wonder if Cecil-san writes lyrics? I’ll ask him later.

Chapter End

#cecil repeat #cecil aijima #utapri

[pokckygamewithbatman]

Wednesday Rant (sorry, I didn’t like it)

Disclaimer: These are just my opinions, and where I reach most of my initial impressions of what the characters should be like from the 1964 tv series, and the 1991 movies so if I’m missing facts then that’s why. I may say these opinions as fact but that’s just how I talk remember it’s just opinions.

Ok good, now that that’s out of the way, the casting is pretty crap, Morticia is boobilicious but not tasteful, which is very important for her character. Gomez and Pugsley look right but even tho Gomez is supposed to be kinda ugly there was already a precedent of 1991 Gomez that set the bar high so it was a little disappointing. He is the best cast. Wednesday smiles too much, and talks to much, and Thing isn't supposed to be stitched together he's a horrible monster who's only saving grace is his human looking hand it doesn't need to be stitched together also Thing should've used sign language bc it would've been cute. Jericho is a stupid town name, Nevermore is a stupid school name. Wednesday not liking her parents is very out of character what's even more out of character is the implication that Morticia and Gomez are trying to make her like them. Excuse me have you ever met the Addams family the whole gimmick is that they support their kids to be whoever they want. Fester was a disappointment he looks too human, not dead enough. Platform shoes on Wednesday was weird. I felt so bad for Xavier because his actor was specifically cast because he kind of looks like the Hyde, yk to further complicate things and make the audience feel like they absolutely got it. Totally cheesy that Mr. Normie Tyler is actually the Hyde, and totally stupid that Wednesday has a love interest. She says at the beginning that she doesn't want one and then low and behold he ends up having 2. The inhaler guy at the beginning was an obvious callback to Wednesday's love interest in Addams Family Values, that romance actually worked because he wooed her with his allergies, not his charms. The principal shouldn't have died, that whole scene was unnecessary if the principal didn't believe Wednesday why would she go along with another scheme?? Enid is sweet but a doormat, instead of her coming back to Wednesday, Wednesday should've gone to Enid to apologize properly. The dance scene would've been fantastic if Tyler was into it, dancing with her, smiling at her, anything, but he was just standing there awkwardly and like, that’s not someone who should be a love interest in any setting. If you’re being goofy, or doing your best, or whatever at something, your partner should be enthusiastic about said thing. He’s smiling but less in a “oh my god she’s so cute” kinda way and more in a “wtf is she doing help” kind of way. Teens can't act, we already knew that this is just another example, the Jericho thing with the pilgrims was so stupid bc they already were pushing the modern day thing but then had such outdated, old fashioned ideologies??

The romance that people want to happen between Enid and Wednesday would be cute on the surface but kind of toxic when you delve deeper because Wednesday just doesn’t think about people in that way. I don’t know how to describe it without making it out like Wednesday is an asshole, she’s not, or at least, not on purpose? Does that help? Also Enid has that medusa guy (which by the way doesn’t make sense because medusa doesn’t have any descendants unless you how the flying boar and horse that come out of her severed neck) and they seemed pretty okay together despite starting out a little rocky; btw they never explain how he becomes unstonified it just happens and we’re meant to accept it.

I don’t know how there could be a season 2 other than the fact that people like the show so they’re going to make another season. Wish that happened for other shows, yk, like GLTAS, Young Justice, even Pantheon hasn’t been promised a second season despite it being so damn good. I’m salty about that but it has nothing to do with what I disliked about the show.

And much more, I don't remember nearly enough about the show because it was so unremarkable.

[maciek-jozefowicz]

Meandering Thoughts on Ostracism

Ostracism is an efficacious tool for cultural dictators. But because it’s a psychological threat—“We won’t like you if you don’t believe the beliefs we want you to believe”, “Everyone will shun you, if you contradict us”—it works only on those who fear it. To increase its efficacy, the threat has also become economic—“You will lose sales if…”, “You will not get the job if…”, etc. (In the past, the threat could also be physical torture and murder.) It’s no wonder that so many people kowtow to so much fatuity. But at least today, we are not being threatened with eternal damnation and hell. Well, actually, we are, except instead of calling it Hell, they call it Climate Crisis, aka climate warming.

Ostracism originates in childhood. It is how children punish each other for breaking the rules of “play”. Being ostracized is a primal fear of any social animal, not just humans. The threat of it has been used by all societies throughout history to keep their members within the lines of their beliefs and customs.

Today, ostracism is being used to help change, warp and destroy our beliefs and customs. Some of that change is good and some of that change is bad. It is every person’s responsibility to embrace the good change and to help eliminate the bad change. What makes thing more difficult is that good and bad are relative. What’s good for one person may be bad for another, and what’s bad for one may be good for the other. This is from where conflicts arise. It’s a moral and intellectual dilemma.

For example—there are some beliefs held by homosexuals that are good for homosexuals but harmful to heterosexuals; and there are some views that are good for heterosexuals that are harmful to homosexuals. What do you do? The Abortionists (Progressives, Woke, Feminists, Liberals and LGBTers) decided that they will sanction all views held by homosexuals, even those that are harmful to heterosexuals. Of course, they will argue that there are no harmful views, that saying so is just “hate, bigotry and homophobia”.

But there are. And so how should our society deal with this? We are, after all, a heterosexual species. The vast majority of human beings are heterosexual. Homosexuals make up an extremely small, albeit loud and omnipresent, portion of our population. Should a society embrace beliefs that are harmful to the majority just to gratify a minuscule minority? Is that social justice?

But what does any of this have to do with job seeking and careering? It shouldn’t have anything to do with them, but Progressives (and Woke and Feminists and LGBTers) decided to force their cultural views into the workplace (by using the myth of the inclusive environment (inclusive environments seem like they would be either very stressful—everyone tiptoeing in fear of saying something “wrong”—or boring—everyone repeating the same certified banalities)) and use companies to help them “exterminate” any dissenting believers.

And so it is important for job seekers to be aware that Progressive hiring managers hire Progressive workers, just like Progressive school principals hire Progressive teachers, and Progressive politicians hire Progressive bureaucrats.

It is a natural tribal mentality. Non-progressives should do the same. It would be interesting to have a competition to see which becomes more successful—a company with a Progressive workforce or a company with a non-Progressive workforce. We could do that in football, too. The Rainbows vs the Yin Yangs. Winner takes North America, loser South. (But that wouldn’t work. Progressives want the whole globe. And soon, no place will be safe except maybe some sections of the Middle East.)

Of course, I will be ostracized for having, and expressing in writing, such thoughts. But, oh, well, impertinence is part of my nature. That’s why I love being an artist.

#poem #poetry #humor #ostracism #art #drawing

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Could you maybe write something with dark dark Steve who has a huge size kink and crying kink and loves to humiliate?

School Days

Note: sorry it took so long. been kinda down. also hope i did OK with humiliation.

Summary: Co-worker makes you feel uncomfortable.

Warning: 18+Only, short reader, size kink, crying kink, humiliation kink, non consent, forced fingering and cock warming i think

Dark Coach Steve x Short Teacher Reader

📚

You had always had a love of teaching. Growing up your friends would always groan when it was your turn to pick what to play, because you always chose to play school.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do when you got to college. You wanted to shape young minds. It was fascinating watching them grow and learn right before your very eyes.

Shelby elementary hired you two years after you received all of your certificates. Replacing their beloved Mrs.Pepper Potts after she moved out of town with her husband.

You taught first graders. You preferred teaching the lower grades. The higher grades were a bit difficult. Competing for attention when most of the students where dealing with raging hormones proved an exhausting endeavor. Your short stature became a reoccurring issue too. During your student teacher days you realized the taller they got the more they seemed to not take you seriously.

At least working with the lower grades you were less likely to be confused as a student. You had lost track of how many times you were stopped in the hall by a colleague. With the lower grades you towered over your class and commanded respect with little effort.

📚

You felt exhausted. Your first parent teacher meeting was over. It was endearing and encouraging that so many parents had so many concerns about the development of their little ones. But their critiques on your credentials didn't fail to strike a nerve, an issue new teachers faced all the time. You smiled through it as you normally did. Letting them have their back handed remarks as you answered and waited out the clock.

When it was all over you needed a drink. You cleared up the mess they left for you, a preview of what to expect from their spawn.

When everything was in its place you tackled the blackboard. Taking out your stool you stood on tip toes erasing. You had the bright idea of outlining your curriculum on the board for all the parents to view. It was hard getting it all on the massive board, but with your step stool you got as high as you could go.

"Hey! Whoa you know that's dangerous." A voice rushed to your side as your stool tilted.

"Are you OK little one?" he asked helping you down.

God he's tall. You barely came eye to eye with his chest. You tensed in his arms and when he realized his mistake he released you.

"Oh sorry" he rubbed the back of his head slightly embarrassed. "I'm Steve Rogers." He reached out a hand for you to shake. You took it and introduced yourself. His firm grip swallowed your hand, when he squeezed you held in the hurt from the pressure.

Steve's presence was intimidating despite the smile he wore. When he released your hand, you took as step back, but he stepped forward.

He is just a close talker. Don't over analyze.

"Sorry again with your clothes I just assumed you were..." He motioned at your clothing.

Taking inspiration from Ms Frizz, your favorite animated teacher, you always wore colorful puffy skirts that depicted various things related to education or fairy tails. The look kept the attention of the youngsters, but it certainly didn't look childish.

"It's OK, but I am afraid you are a bit late for the meeting."

Spinning away you move to the other side of your desk to give yourself more space. "If you wouldn't mind filling in your information, encase of emergencies or special needs. I know you probably filled it out for the front office, but I like to have my own copy." You explained as you handed him a pen and the piece of construction paper with the other parents info.

He took it and filled it out. "I just erased the curriculum, but I can email you a copy."

"Did you also used to teach at Camdien?" Steve inquired, bending over your desk as he wrote. While you waited you packed up your belongings.

"Um yes I was a student teacher there. Did you have a child there too?"

"I coached there actually. Well was." He rose and approached you. Slipping your purse straps on your shoulder, you tried to remember if you seen his face before. You didn't recognize it. As striking as he was you doubted you would forget it.

But the athletic department lived in a world separate from the teachers. Their multiple championships brought in funding that went to their brand new athletic facility. The highly coveted building allowed them to live above the peasant class of the faculty. You had even heard a nonsensical rumor that they even had a Starbucks and onsite masseuse.

When he handed it back you reached out, but Steve pulled the paper just out of reach. Hovering it over your head like a bully playing keep away. You huff and frown after two attempts. You were not a child and would not be treated as such. Pursing your lips you made a move to leave. You would just go through the admin office to get the information.

"Aw don't pout, but I must say you do look adorable when you do." He smiled down at you as he blocked your retreat. His wholesome grin did not match the darkness in his eyes. There was a disconnect somewhere. You felt like a mouse before a lion. Were the other teachers like this? You were so eager to get started working you did little research in the school that so swiftly hired you. "Here you go."

Snatching the paper away you say, "thank you." It sounded slightly annoyed, but you did your best to choke down the edge.

Unhooking the lip of your bag you placed it with the others as his shadow clouded you. Ignoring it you side step him.

"Yeah I remember. I used to see you at Camdien." Steve recalled, blocking you once more. You stopped just short of bumping into him as you closed your bag. "Cute little thing, roaming the halls." Steve informed you, stepping closer once more, making you take a step back. The alarm bells blared in your head at that comment.

"Boy wasn't I relieved I wasn't crossing the line with all the thoughts I had." He chuckled as your back hit the chalkboard. You had to strain your neck to look him in the eye this close.

The principal was making his rounds soon. He wouldn't try anything right?

"Mr. Rogers-"

"Coach" he interrupted. He didn't touch you but that fact gave you very little relief. You felt your nails dig into your palm as you gripped the thin strap of your bag. Your arm the only barrier between you two. "Just call me Coach."

"Rogers!" Your saving grace, Principal Barnes, exclaimed from the door. Steve's body blocked you from James. "There you are. Nice to see your getting to know your colleagues."

"Yeah, just sharing stories from Camdien" Steve stepped aside to greet Principal James. His hand landed on the top of your head, messing your hair as he patted you playfully like a dog. You swallowed the discomfort as he moved to talk to James. You gathered the rest of your things as they focused their attention on each other.

"Oh yeah I forgot you both came from their."

You took that opportunity to make your exit. Walking fast mumbling a 'goodnight,' you bolted toward the door. They replied back, but you ignored it, allowing their chatter to fade the further down the hall you got.

📚

The first week of school was hectic. Lost students, late students, little accidents here and there, it ran the gambit. But nothing worried you more than P.E. period.

Steve was listed as your classes gym teacher and made the drop-off a chore. It surprised you how increasingly inappropriate he was becoming. Always stretching out your name flirtatiously in front of the children causing them to taunt you with 'OOO's, and pepper you with questions about the nonexistent relationship until you departed.

They stayed in line as you approached the double doors that led to the gymnasium. He was there, dressed in his sweat pants, gym shirt and the whistle dangled from his lips.

As you ushered them inside he caught site of you as he wrangled another group and smirked. It was unnerving especially when your students egged him on by making kissy noises loudly when they noticed him too. On one occasion he sent a note with one of your students asking you out. You ignored it.

You should've reported him you know, but what would they say 'Oh he was just being friendly' or any number of things to justify his behavior. You'd been in enough situations to know without evidence that met their standards nothing would happen.

📚

In the teachers lounge Steve made his presence known. You stared at your custom coffee mug as it sat high on the edge of the third shelf. You had half a mind to take and break his, as it taunted you from the first. You were growing more and more tired of his antics. This wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

Two arms planted themselves on either side of you as something rested on your head.

It was him you knew it. Who else would it be?

"Need some help little one?" He hummed.

"God damn it Steve get off me" you barked You elbowed him, but the mountain of a man didn't budge.

"No need to be nasty."

You felt him push you into the counter, crushing you against it as he reached for your cup on the high shelf.

"Here you go" he said placing it daintily in front of you.

Calm down don't blow your lid he is doing this to fuck with you.

"Shouldn't you be watching my class?" You asked as you waited for him to move out of your way.

"Student teacher got me covered. You remember what that's like? Give them the work while we teachers kick back and relax."

He backed away allowing you to get the coffee, but stayed glued to your side. You ignored him, pulling out your phone and flopped on the couch, waiting for gym time to end.

Steve of course sat next to you crowding you into the corner. He boldly placed a hand on your thigh, you brushed it off, cursing at him to 'go away'. If you got up he would only follow so you crossed your legs and leaned into the arm of the couch. Don't let him get to you.

Steve stretched out his arm on the back of the couch. Even sitting next to you he towered over you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you in snugly. Your head resting against his tone chest. "God your so adorable."

"Steve!" you almost shriek at him as his other hand slyly crept under your skirt. "Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with you."

You try to stand suddenly, but get jerked back down. Landing in the same awkward situation as before.

"Fuck you let me go" you hissed at him. He only chuckled as you tried to stop his hand from advancing up your skirt again. You became panicked the further he got.

Clamping your thighs tightly together as he wedged between your crossed legs. Your eyes shifted to the door before you, the couch sat across from the only entrance. If anyone came in they surely would be under the wrong assumptions.

His arm refused to budge as you attempted to pry him away. Steve was nothing but muscle, struggling was getting you no where, each shift pressed him hard against your sensitive area.

📚

"You know I've been nothing, but nice to you" Steve sounded disappointed.

"Stop please" you sounded panicked and desperate. Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to fight back an ache that taunted you as he teased.

"But you always give me attitude." He stated casually.

You slapped him. The sound loud in the empty room. Your eyes blurred with tears of frustration. Your hit did nothing, only leaving his cheek red, but from the smile on his face he liked it.

"And violent too. Hope you don't act that way around your class" he tsked while poking hard at the growing wet spot. You felt your spine curve and breath become heavier, your toes curled in your shoes as he increased his friction.

"Oh look at you. You like that don't you" he teased rubbing circles after noticing the tension in your legs relax. You cocked back to slap him again, but stopped when you felt his other hand at the back of your neck. It squeezed softly, but it was a warning nonetheless. You felt defeated. Not only was Steve bigger than you, he was stronger. Tears of frustration finally fell as you lowered your hand and let him do as he pleased.

"God your even cuter when you cry." He preened. "Tell you what. Since we don't have that much time....Kiss me and I will stop." You bristled as you felt him peel your panties to the side.

He didn't wait for your reply. Steve crashed his lips on to yours without warning. You flinched expecting pain, but it was soft. It was so tender that with anyone else they would given and close their eyes, accept it, but you couldn't.

"Stop..Steve.. Please" You panted over his lips, pushing at his chest as his fingers pushed into you. He didn't stop, the kiss only embolden him to go further. You whimpered and moaned as he took from you.

"Give me your panties" he asked pulling away from you, but his fingers still curled inside. "You promised you'd stop" you remind him, wiping away tears.

He wasn't going to relent, you could tell by the determination in his eyes. You felt exposed and embarrassed. Anyone could walk in at any moment and he knew it. He would probably get a slap on the wrist while you would need to find employment else where to escape the shame.

"I promise this time" he said lowly. "No tricks."

Swallowing your pride you lifted in your seat, he moved just enough to let the fabric pass. Rolling them down your knees quickly you hand them over. His hands slipped from you as you pass it. He held them up to the light and examined the wetness he created. Wiping away tears, you stood and bolted toward the door, but stopped when Steve whistled loudly.

"I think you forgot something."

You turned to find him pointing at your discarded mug.

"If you leave it, I leave this in it", he waved your shame in the air.

"Don't forget to wash it....don't want it to leave a stain" he ordered from the couch. You walked back on edge. Snatching the mug from the other side of the table. You rushed to the sink and rinsed your cup. More tears fell as you felt the wetness between your legs. The mirror mounted above the sink allowed you to examine yourself. Your mascara bled a bit and lipstick smeared, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a dab of a napkin.

You swore to never step foot in the lounge ever again. If you needed to eat you would do it in your car or at your desk. This was supposed to be a magical time for you, but with Steve it had turned into a nightmare.

You sniffed as you blinked away the tears, forcing yourself to stop crying. Gym time was almost over and you needed to pull yourself together and collect your class.

"You know how often I wonder about you" Steve said rising from the couch, you watched him carefully from the mirror. You fumbled your mug, the water splashing back at you.

"Steve you promised" you said meekly, utterly defeated. He stared at you through the mirror, you felt his eyes watch your discomfort as you picked up the cup.

"What would the parents think if they knew their kids teacher walks around the class with no panties on" he tutted. You hung your head low and noticed your panties balled up in his hand as he rested it on the counter.

"I also wonder" He said pressing you into the sink. You felt his resolve through his sweat pants. "Do you fit?"

Fit?

Then it became clear. You felt his cock against your backside. You tried frantically to flea, but Steve caught you by the neck.

"I'm willing to bet you can't even fit half of me inside" he whispered in your ear as he bent you over the sink, crushing. "If I'm wrong I will let you go." Your eyes rounded as he hauled up your skirt. You whimpered as the cool air of the staff room tickled your exposed rear.

Steve was really going to fuck you in the staff room. These walls were paper thin and he knew it. Your head swirled in panic as you pleaded with him to stop. He only chuckled and shimmied down his sweat pants as you swatted back at him.

He angled and aligned himself as you sobbed. The tip slipped through your wet thighs, finding the target of its need.

You choked down a guttural moan as he breathed out 'good girl'. He watched your face as every inch stretched through your insides.

"Its is too much" you gasped out, trembling from the pressure, dancing on your tip toes as you adjusted around him.

"Its all inside" he praised the accomplishment. Forcing you to look at the mirror. "You fit me so good...see."

The mirror reflected your assault to your horror. "All cute holding me inside, taking everything I got" he said while stretching you.

Shooting pains radiated from your core as sharp breaths escaped you.

"Look at you" he taunted "coming apart just for me.... "

You heard the door to the room open and close quickly as you panted wildly. Steve didn't pull out, unabashed, letting whomever take in his pale ass as he continued to stuff you.

You didn't know who saw you, you only hoped his massive body hid you and your shame.

📚

#dark steve x reader #dark steve x black reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x black!reader #black writer

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

[writing-with-olive]

How to write essays fast

I've been writing a lot of papers, so that's what's on my mind.

So this mostly applies to your standard 5-paragraph paper, though it's fairly straightforward to adapt it to longer (or sometimes shorter) assignments.

One of the main things to note is that essays are VERY formulaic, so knowing the formula and being able to write down your ideas in a way that fit into the formula is probably the number one way to get stuff done fast. Because of that, most of what I’m covering is breaking down the formulas so they’re more accessable.

Also this got very long. If there’s anything you want me to expand on just let me know in the comments or send me an ask/DM and I’ll make another post that goes more in-depth about it.

Structure (I hate this step, so I’ve figured out how to do it very fast becuase it’s still important)

The first thing to consider is prewriting and structure. To start, there are two major paper structures I usually consider. The first goes

Introduction

Main point #1

Main point #2

Main point #3

Conclusion

This is good if you have a lot to say on the topic, or if it's something closer to a summary essay where there's not really an opposing side. In something where there are distinct sides, (or if you have less to say to support your own side), you may want something that looks like

Introduction

Main point #1

Main point #2

Why the other side is wrong

Conclusion

The "why the other side is wrong" side is involves thinking through the MOST credible arguments the other side might make, and methodically breaking them down to show how they don't work. The stronger the argument you choose, the more effective this is.

Since I personally hate prewriting with a passion, I usually do this step very fast and end up with an outline that looks like

Intro [insert thesis statement]

P1: [three word summary]

P2: [three word summary]

P3: [three word summary]

Conclusion

(thesis statement, introduction, body paragraphs, and conclusion tips are all below the cut)

Usually, this is enough so when I look at my outline, I can see what I'm trying to focus on for each paragraph - and do so without straying from my main point.

For the prewriting, the main things to do are identify with basic structure of the two will serve your purposes better, and write a thesis statement that solidly supports your argument.

Thesis Statement

There are so many guides about creating thesis statements that are powerful, but I'm just going to quickly go over how to be fast about it.

The first thing to know is that a thesis statement is usually a complex sentence: it's your entire essay distilled down to a single line. The general formula I follow goes something like this:

"In their [media type] [name of specific piece], [creator's full name] explored/demonstrated/other verb [theme you're going to be arguing about] demonstrated/using/as evidenced/as shown by [example 1], [example 2], and [optional example 3]."

For example, a thesis statement that follows this format might go

“In his short film Job at Place, David Davidson explored the manifestations of human stupidity through the absurdity of the main character’s home, school, and office.”

Or, if you're writing a historical piece, it might look something like this:

"In [place/time period], [thing you're arguing was happening]: they had to/the conditions were such that/other thing to set up a list [example 1], [example 2], and [example 3]."

For example, a thesis statement that follows this format might go

“During the Tusken Invasion of 32nd century Tatooine, it was the lives of the children that were most affected, from their social development and connections with others to more personal struggles they didn’t yet have the tools to overcome.”

The examples you give are going to correlate to your paragraphs - example 1 is for body paragraph 1, and so on. 

Introduction

I like to think of the introduction as a funnel that gets more and more specific.

First, write a broad statement that touches on whatever theme you’re referencing. 

Job at Place is about human stupidity, so something like “while great minds have flourished throughout the ages, so have the not-so-great.”

Tatooine is about war, and about child development, so something like “children’s development has always been impacted by the state of the world around them.” or “war has many effects, many of which impact those not directly involved with the conflict.”

The idea is that it’s a broad statement that can almost be looked at like a universal truth.

Next, you’re going to go deeper - two sentences that narrow down the time and place you’re talking about specifically, and how that time and place fit into your universal statement. 

The fourth sentence gets even more specific - introducing how the thesis sentence fits into your first three sentences.

Then the last line is your thesis statements. 

Body Paragraphs

Your three main body paragraphs all follow the same formula. (I’ll get to the “why the other side is wrong” paragraph in a minute)

The first sentence you’re going to want is a topic sentence. For this, you’re going to want to look at the example you gave in your thesis statement that corresponds to this paragraph, and see how it relates to your central claim. 

If we’re going with the Job at Place example from above, for the second paragraph, you might open with a line like:

“A striking characteristic of Davidson’s short film was the abnormality of the main character’s school, used to showcase exactly what happens when poor decisions get taken too far.”

Everything within the paragraph will then back up the claim you’re making in the topic sentence (which in turn is backing up your thesis). 

For each paragraph, you’re probably going to want about three pieces of evidence, either in the form of direct quotes (plucking words directly from the source) or paraphrased quotes (summarizing what happened in your own words). The quote should be used to directly support your argument.

After each piece of evidence, you’re going to want about... twoish lines of analysis (this number can change as you need it to, but two lines is something solid to fall back to). 

While analysis can take all kinds of forms, one pattern you can use if you’re stuck is

evidence sentence 

what it means

how that meaning ties back into your main point

Following this pattern, a piece of analysis of Job at Place might look like:

“One of the first images of the private school is that it’s a tall spire with creaking stairs and loose floorboards. Despite this, the principal has eight personal cars parked outside on full display. While the first glimpse of the school might indicate that there is little money to care for the structural integrity, the notion is directly negated by the principal’s actions. By using these two images, Davidson demonstrates what can happen to the youth when those in power let greed carry them away.”

After you write your analysis, include some kind of transition phrase, and go onto the next piece of evidence.

The last line of your paragraph is going to transition into the next paragraph while also summing up the main point of what you talked about in the current one. (This line can also get moved down and tacked onto the beginning of the next paragraph, before the topic sentence, but I have found it tends to look less cohesive that way).

You might choose something like:

“While the school was a disaster in its own right, it wasn’t the only example of human folly.”

If you’re writing a “this is why the other side is wrong” you’re going to want to think about the MOST compelling arguments the other side could make. Take the top one (or two), and figure out ways to crack them apart using evidence from your source material.

In this case, your topic sentence might start off with something like

“While opponents might say [insert compelling counterargument], their reasoning breaks down when one takes into account the evidence.”

At this point, you’re going to follow the same formula as above. The main thing to keep in mind is that for the duration of this paragraph, your point is that the other side’s claim of X is wrong.

Conclusion!

If you know what you’re doing, this is actually the easiest part.

(wait, what??????)

The thing is, you NEVER want to introduce new ideas into your conclusion. Instead, you’re summarizing your main points.

The formula I follow per sentence is:

Thesis statement but reworded (you can change the sentence structure too)

Topic sentence for paragraph 2 or 3, but reworded (I’ll explain why you shouldn’t do the sentence for P1 in just a sec)

Topic sentence for paragraph 1 or 3 but reworded

Topic sentence for paragraph 1 or 2 but reworded

Wow sentence or question (i’ll get to this too)

The idea for the middle three sentences is you don’t want them to read as repetitive, so you’re going to mix up the order so it doesn’t match the order of the rest of the essay. This will help to keep it fresh.

The wow sentence is basically the last impression you get to make. I find it’s usually a good idea to go just a tad dramatic (it sounds dumb, but it has never failed me). If I can’t think of anything, a declarative statement on whatever major theme was being discussed throughout the essay usually does the trick.

Examples:

All of this shows that in the absence of friendships and platonic love, humanity will falter.

Fiction may seem far fetched now, but if the world falls into those same mistakes, it’s only a matter of time until it becomes a reality.

Art has existed for as long as humans have populated the earth; it’s not going away any time soon.

A lesson everyone must understand is the most powerful weapon isn’t anything physical or tangeable: it’s the ideas that exist in the minds of those who care.

(I told you they were going to be dramatic) A way I look at it is if you can’t imagine dropping the mic on the last line, it needs to be stronger (yes I found that plagiarized with not even a whisper of credit on Pinterest, but it works).

If you wrote a SOLID essay, consider ending with a question aimed at the reader (this will push your essay in the direction of either the positive or negative extreme: a strong essay will become stronger, a weak essay will become weaker). Questions can be a call to action or rhetorical as a means to drive home your final point. Becuase they’re more nuanced to the content of the essay, I don’t really have great examples to give you though (sorry).

Hopefully this is useful to at least some of you - good luck!

++++

Tagging:@candlemouse

If you want to be added to or removed from any of my taglists (found pinned to the top of my blog) just let me know :)

#writing #writing advice #writeblr #studyblr #writers on tumblr #essays #how to write essays #school papers #english #history #social studies #theme statements #thesis statement #conclusion #introduction #body paragraphs #homework #school #essay tips #writing tips #olive's writing vibes #long post

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song ii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, things are heating up! the phrase ‘dilf dick’ gets thrown around way too much, RJ and taehyung cameo, hoseok, yoongi and namjoon are mentioned, as well as jungkook if you squint words; 12,169

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After Seokjin dropped you off at the station, he and Arin waving you goodbye, it would be two weeks later when you saw him again. Not that you were holding out on it or anything… No way… That would be ludicrous.  

The last week of school was always hectic, activities and games top priority now that teaching had come to a standstill. The children were hyper, the teacher’s worn out, but without fail you always looked forward to the summer fate. Head of the committee every year, you and a handful of your fellow teachers organised each game, each stall and each prize. As well as wanting the children to have fun, it was also an opportunity to celebrate their achievements throughout the year with their families. There were an arrange of awards for most subjects, third through to first place for each grade, and this year you’d convinced the principal, Mr. Jung, to include a new creative writing award. It wasn’t technically a subject – you already had the spelling bee for English class, but he’d thought it was a great idea to celebrate the students’ talents in a brand new way. 

Of course, there was one child you had in mind when you’d gone to him with the idea – Arin. It was only fair in your eyes, she’d been with you not even three months and hadn’t had a chance like the other kids. The other awards were spoken for but you wanted her to at least get something, just so first grade could end on a good note for her and help her look forward to September. 

You were at the entrance of the fate, in casual conversation with Mrs. Jeon as well as greeting the students’ families, when you caught a glimpse of Seokjin. He was hand in hand with Arin who skipped happily beside him. He was wearing a sea green thin sweater, that blew in the light breeze, and black jeans. He was even in sneakers. Way more unbelievable than the slippers. He looked effortlessly good, and you thought you preferred him like this, casually dressed. The suits were great yes, but he looked far more attainable like this. Not that you wanted to attain him. 

Damn it. 

You tried your best to ignore the strange heat that had seemed to settle in your chest at the sight of him, the faintest flurry of what could only be described as butterflies aggravating your stomach. What the hell? What was wrong with you? 

“Hello, Miss.” Arin grinned, giving you a small wave, and you shook yourself out of it. 

“Hi, Arin,” you waved back, of course catching Seokjin’s eyes in the process. 

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he greeted, the hint of a smirk across his mouth. Teasing, again. Two could play at that game. 

“Mr. Kim,” you replied, unable to keep a straight face – especially when you heard him laugh as he passed by you. 

You watched him walk off, secretly pleased now that you knew he was here. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but you’d been hoping he’d be free to attend the fate. To see Arin receive her reward, of course – nothing else. But, okay, maybe you had spent an embarrassingly long time choosing which dress to wear last night. Not that you wanted to impress him, more like… stand out. 

“Who is he?” Mrs. Jeon whispered animatedly – hopefully out of earshot and once again knocking some sense back into you. 

You tried to sound casual, like you weren’t aware of Seokjin’s jaw-dropping good looks – or more so, that they didn’t affect you whatsoever. “A student’s father.”

She made a noise of disbelief. “He is just pure… sex on legs.”

“Eunbi!” You exclaimed, taken by such surprise you used her first name. She burst out laughing, something you couldn’t ignore and ended up in a fit of giggles yourself. 

“Behave.” You warned, trying to compose yourself. “You’re a married woman.” You’d attended her wedding last summer, bringing along Soojung as your plus one. 

“Looking is still allowed,” she replied, making you both explode into laughter once again. 

You were giddy. Really, what was up with you?

.

.

The afternoon was a success, the children and their families enjoying immensely, as well as the teachers. It was your job to announce the creative writing reward and it was so heart-warming to see how happy it made Arin to come first place. She held her little trophy and movie theatre vouchers proudly for the camera, Seokjin looking just as over the moon as her. Mr. Jung convinced him to join for a few snaps and you looked on with a polite smile. Other than earlier and a thank you as you passed the prize to Arin, those had been your only interactions with Seokjin for the day and now the fate was drawing to a close. You wouldn’t say you were disappointed, because that would be preposterous, but if those were going to be your only exchanges then it made the times he’d fleeted into your mind these past couple of weeks highly embarrassing… 

It wasn’t as if you wanted to think about him, he just kept popping up. First you blamed Soojung, who wouldn’t shut up about Mr. Dilf for a few days after the exchange at his house (mansion), but soon the topic bored her, no new developments to keep her hooked. You on the other hand found yourself imagining instances where you’d bump into one another again. You know, happenstances… Like if he had the time to drop Arin off at school, although you doubted he’d end up in the staff parking lot again… You’d had a good giggle to yourself remembering his face when he’d realised. 

Other incidents were less realistic, like maybe he’d drop off a thank you present the students liked to gift to say goodbye, or maybe you’d bump into him at the grocery store, the park – highly improbable, but you found yourself thinking all these things when you were procrastinating or trying to get to sleep. 

Even now as you tried to win a prize at the Ring Toss stall – don’t ask how much money you’d already spent – (obviously using your free time wisely before you were needed again), you found yourself disappointed that things hadn’t worked out quite like you’d imagined today. You were being stupid. The guy was supposed to annoy the heck out of you, yet here you were unable to stop thinking about him. It had been a long time since a man had gotten you this distracted. A really long time… 

“Can I help?”

You jumped at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, granted you were in deep concentration, about to launch the hoop, but you felt like you’d been caught doing something wrong. As if he knew you’d been thinking about him, caught you in the act. You whipped your head up, forcing yourself to relax and smile. 

“I’ve been watching you try to win for the past ten minutes.” He chuckled. Great. How embarrassing. He stepped closer. “What do you have your eyes so set on?”

Oh, god. Even more embarrassing. You had a split second to make a decision. Be truthful or lie and choose something else. You know what, who cared? You were thirty and still loved stuffed animals. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

“The alpaca.” You pointed to the white fluffy animal sat on the top shelf. With his cute round face and a red scarf wrapped around his neck, he was adorable and you really wanted him. 

Seokjin wasn’t fazed at all. “He’s cute. I’ll try but don’t get your hopes up, okay?” 

You nodded and handed him the hoops. He needed to loop all three around the skittles. You watched him with anticipation, thinking to yourself this definitely wasn’t one of your fantasies, but you liked it regardless. Liked it even better when Seokjin managed to win. 

“Thank you, Seokjin,” you smiled, his name still feeling strange to say aloud. The man in charge of the game passed you your new ‘pet’ and you held it fondly, unable to stop yourself. Your landlord didn’t allow animals so you’d had to improvise over the years. You’d never had an alpaca before, but you were sure he’d fit right in. 

“No problem, I’m glad I could be of service.” He chuckled. 

There was a silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable but it was new. You were so used to Seokjin joking about you were expecting him to take the lead. Today he was quiet, actually right now he looked pretty awkward. 

You opened your mouth to ask him how he was when you suddenly realised something. How stupid of you. You’d been so distracted by the stuffed animal you hadn’t realised a little certain someone was missing. “Where’s Arin?”

“She’s playing with a friend and their family.” You watched him scratch the back of his neck, looking at you, but not really making eye contact. “Y/N, do you maybe want to take a walk? We could find some where to sit and talk?”

“About what?” You could’ve kicked yourself. Why did you have to ask that? You were just a little dazed from hearing him say your name again. 

“Uh, just about Arin really.” 

You didn’t really know what you’d been expecting so any answer would’ve surprised you, but you nodded, taking him up on the offer. “Okay.” 

You knew a bench away from the fate but still on school grounds, and you walked side by side, noticing just how tall and broad he was. His shoulders looked unbelievable in that sweater, and it hugged his chest perfectly when the light breeze of the afternoon hit him, his well-built chest visible. Not that you were staring or anything, you just happened to notice… 

You small talked along the way. Not much, mostly about the fate, but it was enough for you to hit your destination without any awkward silence. You wracked your brains as you sat, wondering what he had to say about Arin. Maybe he wanted to discuss her stories more, thank you for the prize she’d won. What you did know though, was that his cologne really did smell amazing. It was woody, maybe spicy, and just plain addicting. This close proximity was wreaking havoc with you again. You sat the alpaca between you both on bench, acting as a barrier for your sanity. 

Seokjin patted its head absentmindedly before he side-eyed you, that amused smile you’d become familiar with upturning the corners of his mouth. “You seem a lot less scrappy today.”

You raised both eyebrows, thrown for a moment. “Scrappy?”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “a lot less intimidating.” 

You? Intimidating? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? The sheer power of Seokjin’s brow line alone could bring a person to quivering knees, and that wasn’t mentioning the obvious, like you know, his face. However, he seemed genuine enough. You didn’t really consider yourself feisty, but then again, when pushed to your limits maybe something just snapped inside of you. You had powers you weren’t aware of, obviously. Better own them then…

You gave a small shrug, smirking slightly. “Maybe I’ve chosen to forgive and forget.” 

He chuckled again, genuinely amused, but you sensed some reluctance his end, a slight awkwardness. Was he stalling? You suddenly grew a little nervous. The dynamics you’d grown somewhat used to during your last few encounters had shifted without you knowing. Seokjin was a lot less teasing today. How come? 

“So,” you pressed carefully, unable to handle the anticipation. “What was it you wanted to say?” 

He lifted his head up, warm eyes meeting yours and your insides did that flurrying thing again. Your imagination hadn’t concocted this. When he smiled you realised how kind it was – how kind it could be when he wasn’t being infuriating. “I just want to thank you.” 

Your eyes widened before you could control the surprise. “Thank me?” 

He nodded, relaxing a little now, pressing his back into the bench. “For being such an amazing teacher to Arin these past couple of months.” 

Of course, Arin. That’s what he’d said in the beginning, right? He wanted to sit and talk about Arin.

“That’s really no problem,” you smiled. It was your job after all. Yes, teachers liked being appreciated for their hard work, but personally, praise sent you a little red in the face. 

You didn’t know if he heard you, already continuing, as if he’d rehearsed what he wanted to say. “It’s been really hard on her, the change – you know, uprooting the life she knew to come and live with me. New school, making new friends. She was incredibly worried, but you made it so much easier for her.” 

Looking at you again, sounding so genuine, you found yourself freezing. You stumbled a little over your words before managing to come up with something functional. “Of course, it’s my job to make every student comfortable in my class.” You were sure any teacher would’ve treated her with the same kindness and care. But, yes, truthfully you had become very fond of her in such a short time. You wanted him to know that in a roundabout way. “I’ll miss her come September.” 

He gave you an appreciative smile. “She’ll miss you too.” 

Serious Seokjin always threw you. Maybe it was because you had to accept that you’d misjudged him completely. He wasn’t the rich pompous jerk you’d first thought the morning he’d hit your car. You had to admit that like this he impressed and intrigued you. It was why you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him these past two weeks. Which was stupid because you doubted he was doing the same.  

“Thanks for choosing her to win that writing competition, by the way.” His voice brought you back to Earth, concentrating on him again to find that mischievous grin all over his face. “Even if you didn’t like the way it ended.” 

You scoffed. Was he ever going to drop that? He knew that wasn’t the case. He’d asked for the damn pointer himself. “Well, if Lewis Carroll did it.” 

“Kim Arin can too?” He finished, both of you instantly laughing. Once it petered off, he tilted his head to the side, gazing at you almost. It made you fidget a little, getting flustered. “She’s really fond of you. I meant what I said at the parent-teacher meeting.”

God, you really were horrendous at taking compliments. Especially from a man that already made you feel funny. 

“She’s always speaking about how kind and lovely you are.” A pause. "...How pretty you are.” You froze. He hesitated, contemplating something in his head it seemed. He looked you straight in the eyes and said casually, “I have to admit, I agree." 

Oh. What?! You felt heat begin to travel up your face, your cheeks burning and you prayed it wasn't visible. You didn't know what to reply, but thankfully (perhaps) Seokjin simply carried on, hopefully oblivious to your awkward reaction. You should bypass it too. It probably didn't mean anything. He was just being polite, right? 

“Realising it was your car I hit made me feel even guiltier." He shook his head regretfully. "I really am sorry for all that. The damage, stealing your car." 

"It's fine, Seokjin." He hadn’t really stolen your car, you’d been extremely overdramatic there. He'd apologised enough already. You were over it. You had two days left of school, the summer all yours, your mood was much better. Let bygones be bygones. 

“Yeah but, I should’ve never gotten your car towed. I realise I was out of line. You said you didn’t want my help but I didn’t listen." 

You nodded, listening to him, aware he needed to say this. Again, it seemed as if he'd rehearsed it almost, or maybe it was the professional in him. You were too damn stubborn so he wasn't all to blame. You smiled appreciatively, fighting your hand's strange urge to pat his shoulder. It was maybe best that you didn't touch him. Instead you gave a teasing grin. “But you still won’t let me pay you back?” 

He whined – or at least that's the only way you could describe it. It tugged at something inside your chest. Maybe it was more like a wail. Less cute. He couldn't believe you were back on that. 

"I'm just messing around," you laughed, trying to compose yourself to let him know something too. “While we're on apologies... I'm sorry for being so short with you annnd for calling you a car thief."

He chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair. Oh, it was pushed back above his forehead again today. You hadn't noticed, too distracted by what? His sneakers? The outfit as a whole? His face? “I deserved it, let’s be honest." 

"Maybe in the beginning," you admitted carefully, causing him to laugh harder. 

“I was way too preoccupied when I hit you. With work and promising Arin I’d drop her off at school – because shamefully I’d never done it before." He turned a little pensive at that, lost in his own thoughts. 

“You must be really busy," you said, voice soft. There was no way he could do it all. Work seemingly six days a week and still try to be there for Arin 24/7. 

He looked across at you, an eyebrow quirking slightly. What was he surprised by? That you were sympathising with him? He nodded slowly. “It’s just hard learning to juggle everything.   Don’t get me wrong, I love having her with me every day, but...”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon.” You wanted to say it would be summer break soon enough, but then on second thoughts, maybe that would make things even harder. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he shrugged, changing the subject back to you. “Besides, me being busy doesn’t really excuse the fact I hit you. I mean, what if god forbid you’d been walking past my car instead, it doesn’t bear thinking about.” He looked beside himself at just the idea. 

“But I wasn’t,” you reminded him, “so it’s perfectly okay.” 

“You’re right,” he murmured, giving you a small smile that rounded his cheeks.  

There was silence then, where you waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Was that all he’d wanted to talk about? To thank you for being a kind teacher to Arin and to say sorry once again for the car debacle? For some reason you felt eager to keep the conversation going. It was an urge deep inside you that acted on its own accord. 

“So, what do you do?” You asked, trying your best to sound casual. Not that you weren’t casual. You just didn’t want to make it seem like you were desperate for small talk. “If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Again, he looked vaguely surprised. What, that you were interested in him? No, that was phrased wrong. That you were interested. He didn’t meet your eyes as he replied.  “I, uh, I’m the CEO of LG. I took over from my father about three years ago.” 

You swore your eyes bugged out of their sockets you were so overcome with shock. You were glad he wasn’t looking at you as you tried to pull it together. “The LG?”

Like one of the biggest companies in the country LG? He was way too young surely? Weren’t those type of CEOs old and round looking?  

Seokjin chuckled, finally looking you in the eyes. “Unless you know another one.” 

You were speechless, well aware you needed to actually say something in reply instead of gawping but what? What could you say to that? “I guess that explains why you’re always so busy then.” 

God, why? Of all the things, why that? Well done for stating the obvious, Y/N. 

Seokjin gave you a modest smile. “It’s difficult, yes. Trying to manage work and being effectively a single dad, but I really am trying.” He shook his head slightly, as if he was telling himself off. “I missed her so much these past couple of years, so to finally have her living with me is a dream come true. I’m trying to be the best father I can but I guess it’s a work in progress.” 

You weren’t expecting him to be this open with you at all. But maybe Soojung wouldn’t be so surprised. She and a bunch of your other friends, even acquittances said that you were easy to confide in. That you listened well and didn’t try to solve everything. You didn’t know how true that was but you didn’t mind listening to him right now. Sometimes confiding in a stranger just worked. 

“Arin obviously adores you.” You smiled. “I could see that the day I dropped your car back.”

He gave you a tiny smile of thanks but sighed softly. “I just want her to always be happy. I know coming from a broken home may make that statement hypocritical but…”

“Not at all,” you insisted. “If a relationship isn’t working out then you need to do what’s best for your child, and you.” That was important too. “I mean, my parents divorced when I was quite young and I have a million and one happy memories growing up.” 

You grew a little self-conscious, thinking that you were oversharing, but he seemed happy to hear it, perking up a little. “Really?” 

“Yep. They beat the ones I have of them yelling at one another.” 

He gave a bitter chuckle then, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. It’s just…” He paused and you wondered if he was going to carry on. Was it bad that you felt curious? You liked seeing this side of Seokjin, it wasn’t how your fantasies had gone at all, it was better. Things had taken an unexpected turn but it just seemed to fit. It seemed natural. It felt nice to talk to him like this. Suddenly you didn’t seem so different. Despite the contrasts in your job and lifestyle, they weren’t very apparent here on this bench… 

“My ex-wife is… she lives a busy life – even busier than mine. But she loves it. She goes looking for it.” Seokjin explained. You listened politely. “That’s why Arin had to start living with me, and even though I’m pulled thin, I still try to make enough time for my daughter, no matter the day, no matter the time, no matter anything. Nana doesn’t…”

Nana? That was her name. You imagined someone slim and beautiful, it was only fitting seeing as Seokjin was the man she was married to once upon a time. Beauty attracted beauty. 

“Is that why you divorced?” Okay, maybe you were prying now. You hoped he didn’t find it rude. 

He didn’t. “There were a lot of reasons,” he answered honestly. “It was as much my fault as it was hers. We were going in different directions and had fallen out of love. It’s been a while now, nearly two years, I’m fine.” He met your eyes at the last part, as if he wanted you to understand that. Or maybe you were reading it wrong. Why would he want you to know that? 

“Does she live far?” You remembered Arin’s disappointment that weekend when her mom had cancelled their plans. Maybe she lived a while away and it was hard to commute with Arin back and forth. 

“No, just in the next city. It’s not far at all. She’s really high up in an accounting firm there. That’s why when we divorced I moved closer to my building here. See, that’s what annoys me the most,” Seokjin scoffed, an edge to his voice now. Oh shoot, you’d made a mistake with that question. “It’s really no distance at all, so why can’t she spare one single day for Arin?” 

You made a sympathetic face, unsure what to say. You decided on honesty. “I’m sorry, I can’t even begin to imagine how all that feels.” 

Break-ups and divorces were hard yes, but when a child was stuck in the middle a tonne of other complications arose. As a teacher you understood that very well, but as a long-time single woman, maybe not. It had been a while since you’d opened your heart to someone, your life taking a very different turn to what you’d expected three years ago. Not that you minded, you liked where you were heading right now, comfortable and at ease. There was nothing missing. You had your friends and family and that was enough. You hoped Seokjin had people around him too.  

“No, I’m the one that should apologise,” he said suddenly, face tinged with colour, as if he was embarrassed. “I’m offloading onto you, that isn’t fair.” 

“I don’t mind.” Honestly, you didn’t at all. It wasn’t even offloading, more so a conversation. You were getting to know him. 

“You’re just so easy to talk to and I got a bit caught off guard when you started asking about me.” He admitted, his warm eyes finding yours. 

Oh. So now you knew for definite he was indeed surprised by all your questions. When was the last time he’d spoken about all that stuff relating his ex-wife? Had he ever spoken about it at all? 

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you today.”

His words caught your attention, interrupting your thoughts and in the process confusing you greatly. You raised a questioning eyebrow. What did he mean? 

“When I asked you to take a walk I did want to thank you for being so kind to Arin and to apologise for the car trouble, but there was also something else…” You waited patiently, heart thudding quite roughly against your chest for some reason. He looked nervous again. Nervous and awkward just like earlier, before you’d distracted him. 

He chose a new direction. One that left you a little dazed. “Y/N, would I be crossing the line if I said I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately?” His dark brown eyes searched for any reaction across your face. 

“Me?” You asked quietly. 

He chuckled bashfully. “Yeah.”

Somehow you found your voice. Well, some of it anyway. “No, it’s not crossing the line.” You wanted to tell him just the same. How he’d slipped into your mind at random times of the day and how you’d secretly been holding out on another meeting. How you’d been anticipating today. But none of that came in your stunned state. Seokjin had been thinking about you? The annoying, exasperating so-and-so hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you? 

He instantly looked relieved – and pleased – at your answer. “I’m glad.” A pause as he hesitated. “Do you maybe want to… go out for dinner this Saturday?” He sounded hopeful, adding quickly, “with me, obviously.”

You would’ve giggled at that but nothing was working. You needed to process his question. He was asking you for dinner? 

“My way of apologising for everything, my treat…” You guessed he felt the need to explain now, a little panicked by your reaction (or no reaction.) “For hitting your car and towing it away without your permission.” 

You laughed then. Just like that your shock dispersing. He was so oblivious it hurt, and now you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He really was that unaware. “So you want to spend more of your money on me?”

You weren’t mad, of course. He knew that, laughing too as he weighed up your reply. “I see the problem.” You snickered, your gaze intimately locking with his in the process. “So, what do you say?” He murmured. “I mean, it’s for a plethora of things really. The car business, all you’ve done for Arin. One massive thank you.” 

Oh. You were getting mixed messages here. Was this an apology dinner, a thank you dinner? Or something more? Maybe he read the questioning in your eyes because he was rushing to say more. “As well as just wanting to enjoy your company. I feel like I talked too much about myself today, I’d like to get to know you too…”  

Okay, now this sounded awfully like a date… And that word freaked you out. Had you not just been thinking about how happily single you’d been for three years and how all you needed were your friends and family? But honestly, you were getting ahead of yourself. It was one dinner. There was no way to predict the outcome and you shouldn’t even be thinking that far ahead. Sometimes you didn’t need to think. You needed to remember that. Sometimes it was just good to act in the moment. Take cautious to the wind and accept this incredibly handsome man’s dinner invitation, whatever his intention was. 

You smiled. “Dinner sounds lovely.” 

Seokjin’s eyes widened a tad, surprise visible and he didn’t try to hide it. “Really?” You laughed and nodded. Really you should be the one still shocked, because despite everything – the misjudgements, the attitude, the way you’d been itching for numerous fights with him, it was a wonder why he still wanted to be anywhere near you. …Maybe he liked that… Maybe he liked you? Or were you absolutely barking mad?  

“Can I have your number to arrange everything?” 

You went to relay it to him, watching him pull his phone from out his front jean pocket but then remembered something. “Oh, I already have yours, should I just text you?”

“That’s my work phone. Maybe we should swap personal phone numbers?” 

You mean, you only had one phone, but it made sense why he had two. You were still stuck on the personal part though. A little dazed (and excited) as he saved your number into his phonebook. Your phone was locked up in your classroom, so you couldn’t take his but no matter, you’d just save it once he messaged you. 

Seokjin glanced at his watch – an expensive looking thing, but that was really no surprise now – and hummed. “We should head back, the fate will be finishing soon.” 

You made more small talk as you walked back, Seokjin wondering if you had any allergies or a special diet so he could bear it in mind when he chose a restaurant. Luckily for you no, but you found out that he was allergic to garlic and potatoes, which seemed ridiculous and highly unfair. But he did admit that he ignored it sometimes, which resulted in disaster often because garlic made him itch like crazy. You had a good laugh over that. 

“So, what are you going to name him?” Seokjin asked, stroking the top of your alpaca’s head who was hooked against your hip as you walked.  

“Hm. I don’t know.” You shrugged, turning to him. “You decide? You did win him after all.” 

“Hmmm,” he thought aloud. A few seconds later he came up with something. “How about RJ?”

“RJ?” 

Seokjin chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cute.” 

Smiling, you had to agree. “Yeah, it is.” You held the stuffed animal up in front of you, tilting your head to the side. “RJ the alpaca. Perfect.” 

Still walking as you spoke, you felt Seokjin move in, hovering his hand behind the small of your back in case you stumbled, your attention elsewhere. You felt the same warmth you had the day he’d called you by your name for the first time… 

Of course you had to tell Soojung about the events of the day. It wasn't as if you could keep it a secret – and it wasn't as if you wanted to, you just knew what would happen... She was like a dog with a bone, unable to give it up, making you recall every minute detail down to the socks he was wearing (black, by the way, to match his jeans. You had indeed noticed). 

“He’s so smart. He waits until you’re not this kid’s teacher anymore and then BAM, do you want to go on a date?”

“Soojung, it’s not a date," you sighed. “He’s just…being nice." 

You were still reluctant to call it a date, because well, he hadn't used the word himself. You didn't want to get your hopes up. Although you would never admit that to her, you knew she understood, in her own roundabout way. 

“Being nice?!” She exclaimed, scoffing absurdly loud. 

You shrugged. “Yeah, thanking me." 

She spluttered, as if she found you terribly naive. “What, thanks for being kind to my daughter? SHUT UP, it’s your job! No, he wants to give you that Dilf dick!" 

“Oh, my god. Soojung!” You hushed, immediately feeling your face burn. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind because it was so unbelievable. 

Saturday was not that long away, the last two days of school flew by, and whilst you were emotional, your mind was also a little too preoccupied with the weekend and what it all meant. Gradually, you’d finally had to admit to yourself that this was probably, most definitely a date. The word sent a fear through your body like no other. Despite being single for three years, you had been on a few first dates in that time, and obviously they had never led to anything. In fact, it had been over a year since your last and that's when you had sworn off dating altogether. 

Min Yoongi. That was the last guy you'd said yes too. A fifth grade teacher at Primrose Hill up until last September. (That had nothing to do with you, by the way, he'd just moved cities last summer to pursue a different career. The date hadn't been that bad...) He was easy on the eye and funny, although maybe a little too sarcastic at times, so much so, you hadn't been able to pick up on the signals until he was cornering you in the staff room and asking you to watch a movie with him that coming weekend. Being both teachers, you'd assumed you'd hit it off straight away, but that wasn't the case. It turned out that Yoongi pretty much hated his job, only there for the extended vacations. That was perfectly fine, you guessed, but you realised that a man like that wasn't for you. How could you both love and hate the same job? It just wasn't feasible. 

You didn't miss dating, mostly because you hadn't been that into the idea anyway. But now? Now that the idea had presented itself again? After the most peculiar string of events, you had suddenly found yourself being asked out for dinner by the man who had hit your car, and you were… excited. For the first time in forever, you were excited for a date.  

You hadn’t felt like this since –

Since Donghae. 

Even thinking his name turned your heart heavy. Not as bad as the original heartbreak three years ago, but the memory was still enough to dampen your mood, if even for a moment. You'd met one another during your last year of college and had stayed together for the next five years. He'd been your forever man, the one you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with – he had proposed to you on your 26th birthday after all... Only, being his fiancé hadn't lasted. Since months later he confessed to cheating on you – repeatedly with a girl that worked in the Starbucks near his work building. It had been the pressure of settling down, that's what he'd told you. He was still young, had been very young when you'd gotten together in college and he wanted to experience life properly. His friends were out clubbing every weekend while he stayed inside playing boardgames with you and your friends. Your friends, as if they weren't his too, as if you all hadn't been joined at the hip in college... 

Your life had pretty much crumbled after that. Everything you'd known had been ripped from under your feet and you had no idea what to do or where to go. One day you had been someone's wife-to-be and the next you were a lonely, broken human. You moved in with Soojung, had to take a month off work because you couldn't function properly, and slowly had to learn how to live your life without the love of your life. 

It took a while, but gradually you got there. You and Soojung found a new, bigger place to live – where you still lived now – and you found ways to stop thinking about him, went on weekend vacations and started new hobbies. It took just over a year to feel yourself again but dating never seemed right. 

Soojung slowly encouraged you to try it out, but the handful that happened in that twelve month period just felt forced – even the one with Yoongi, which had pretty much happened organically (as in, Soojung hadn't set it up…), felt like it was missing something. In a way you knew you were comparing everyone to Donghae, you couldn't help it. You couldn't imagine potentially falling in love with someone else again. He was all you'd known for so long, and once upon a time your relationship had been amazing. He'd been amazing. Getting out of that mindset had been difficult, but there had been an even more difficult one... One you were still struggling with now. The issue of opening up your heart again. 

Truthfully, that's why you’d stayed single for so long. Why you'd given up on dating and didn't want to know. The thought of you meeting and falling for someone only to inevitably get hurt again terrified you. You wouldn't say you had trust issues, you knew not every man was like Donghae, but just imagining your world crumbling like it had three years ago was enough to just give up. 

It wasn't like you were unhappy though. You’d meant all that stuff about liking where your life was heading. You had your friends and family and a job you loved. Your life was fulfilling, there was nothing missing. But maybe that’s what you’d needed to realise… Life worked in mysterious ways. Once you were happy and content maybe it was finally time to open up your heart again. 

The truth was, you were very, very attracted to Seokjin. You felt something, even when you wanted to poke his eyeballs out for being so annoying. Actually, thinking about it, maybe that’s why you’d been so scrappy, your mind was fighting with your heart… Despite the obvious differences between you both, you oddly weren’t fazed by that right now. Seokjin didn’t seem unrelatable in that sense. Yes, your lives were crazy different, but there was something between you. You were sure of it. The way he’d opened up to you on that bench, the way he’d smiled at you, and even the way he’d teased you. It had to mean something. 

Sometimes it was okay to trust your heart. That warm feeling weaving its way through your chest… Sometimes it was okay to be a little exposed. Not everyone was out to get you. 

What was the worst that could happen? The dinner never led to anything else? That would be okay, you’d get over it. But what if it did lead to something more…? 

You deserved to find out, right? 

Saturday morning you received a text from Seokjin. You were eating breakfast at the small table you had set up in the kitchen alongside Soojung. She had only just woken up and was still a little bleary eyed but still managed to instantly perk up at the mention of Seokjin. She demanded to see his message straight away. 

Unknown (9:32am)  Hi Y/N,  It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up.  Regards, Seokjin 

She squealed. “This guy writes his texts like they’re emails. You just know he’s going to be a good lay.”

“Soojung,” you groaned.  She would not shut up about Dilf dick this and Dilf dick that. “What does that even mean?” 

“He’s a CEO,” she said simply, eyes wide as if that explained everything. “Of one of this country’s biggest companies. That’s like some type of erotic novel shit.” 

You groaned loudly, dropping your head into your hands, but she still continued – sadly. 

“But none of that creepy Fifty Shades of Grey stuff. This guy is a real gentleman. Like he puts your pleasure above all else. I think he’d be really good at going down on a woman.”

By this point, you’d stopped feeling flustered by her insane claims. They were just normal now. She was unbelievable. Why was she even thinking of these things and where did she come up with them? You didn’t want to think of Seokjin like that because you really wanted to keep your sanity for tonight. Plus, no way were you ready for something like that yet. You hoped Seokjin wasn’t anticipating something more. You were sure he wasn’t, you hadn’t gotten those vibes. Soojung was just being dumb. 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t half talk some shit.” 

You wanted her to point out how cute his text was instead. Like how he’d said he was Arin’s father, you know, just in case you’d forgotten who he was in two days, but no, she was too caught up on potential erotic novel titles. 

You slipped to the side with a start when Soojung nudged your shoulder, getting all up into your personal space as she teased you. “I’m right though, huh?” 

You pushed her back. “This is just a dinner. Not the start of an erotic novel.”

She shrugged. “I’d read it.”

“What would you read?”

Taehyung’s voice appeared from the doorway and you both looked up to see him leaning against it, eyes still pretty much glued shut, his thick hair pulled all ways. 

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Soojung greeted, standing up to make her way towards him. You watched her wrap her arms around his middle, nuzzling into him. She’d only left him in bed not half an hour ago. Seeing your best friend in love was odd but nice. You weren’t used to sappy Soojung, but you had to admit it suited her well. They were cute together. 

Taehyung wrapped one arm around his girlfriend and lifted the other to his face, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “What are you guys yelling about down here? You woke me up.” 

“Y/N’s date tonight,” 

“Oh, Mr. Dilf?” He sniggered, perking up. 

Soojung screeched and joined in. “CEO Dilf dick.” 

“You told him?!” You whined, standing to dump your bowl in the sink. 

“Of course.” Taehyung smiled smugly. “She tells me everything. Don’t you, babe?”

“Yep.” She grinned. You watched in minor amusement as Taehyung leant down to peck her mouth, Soojung gagging loudly. “Your breath stinks.” 

.

.

You replied to Seokjin promptly – well as soon as Soojung and Taehyung had vacated the kitchen – and not long after that he messaged back with the restaurant details, asking if it was okay to pick you up at 7pm. You sent him your address, almost immediately freaking out. You knew his wealth hadn't fazed you that bad, seeing as he was so easy to talk to, but your place and his place were on different planes of existence. You knew it wouldn't bother him, he wasn't like that, you knew that now, but you were still a little self-conscious. It was probably the nerves regarding today. The reality was setting it. The slight doubt… 

Soojung wasn't helping. 

“There’s steaks on the menu that are more than our rent a week," she awed, looking down at her phone. 

Why had you given her the name of the restaurant again? You would never learn your lesson. She had already googled his name when you’d told her he was the CEO of LG and she had been this close to searching his net worth before you’d stopped her. You didn’t want to know, not only was it incredibly invasive, it made you feel slightly faint. Seeing his image pop up online was enough for you . A professional headshot, he smiled kindly into the camera lens. It was crazy to think that it was the man you’d be going to dinner with. 

Soojung would be good for one thing though – helping you decide on an outfit for tonight. Taehyung had gone home a couple of hours ago, needed at the bar he owned so she had nothing else better to do. Not that she was listening to you though… 

She shrugged. “What did I expect? This dude is a billionaire." 

“He’s not." 

Billionaire seemed a lot more intimidating than a millionaire, but in reality what was the difference? He was unbelievably rich and you were just... you. You shook your head, attempting to claw yourself out of the anxiety hole you'd found yourself in. His job didn't matter. The restaurant he'd chosen didn't matter. You were going for dinner with him to enjoy his company and get to know him better. The finer details were irrelevant. 

“Come on! If not he must be a multi-multimillionaire." She rationalised. "His dad is the billionaire."

You groaned. "Will you stop making me nervous and help me pick something to wear?" 

You decided on the midi dress you'd actually worn to Eunbi's wedding last summer. It was the only fancy thing you had – or at least fancy enough to dine at a restaurant that sold insane dollar steaks. But wait, the restaurant wasn't supposed to matter, remember? 

You still wanted to look nice though. The dress was modest in itself but maybe the colour was a bit eye-catching – a deep red. Soojung said it was perfect and you'd knock his Dilf socks off. By now you were getting sick of the word. You told her as much.

"What if I don't want to sleep with him?"

"As if." She scoffed. "Your dry spell has gone on far too long. You deserve this." She caught the look of apprehension on your face. "When you're ready of course."

"Don't make me –”

"Nervous, I know" she finished for you, sighing loudly. "There's no need to be. Mr. Dilf is whipped for you, I just know it."

How did she know? She hadn't even met him, but you appreciated the sentiment. You did not appreciate it when she was being a clever bitch though. 

"I'm just trying to work this out." She said, watching you apply your mascara in the bathroom mirror. It was much later in the day now, about forty minutes before Seokjin was due to pick you up. You were dressed, hair up, makeup nearly done, and sick to your stomach with anticipation. You hummed, letting her know you'd heard her and to continue. 

"You were mad when Dilf spent money on your car but you're okay with him spending mad money on you at this restaurant?" 

"Soojung," you warned, staring at her reflection in the glass. 

She held her hands up in apology. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just curious. Is it okay when it's food?"

You sighed. You knew it didn't really make sense, you guessed, but well, you'd said yes to the dinner. You hadn't said yes to the car being repaired. That was the difference. 

"I'm not going to order the most expensive thing on the menu." 

"Well, don't just order a side salad, he'll think you're weird..." 

You simply stared at her. Her input was so appreciated. 

.

.

“He’s here, oh my god, he’s here!” Soojung screamed, spying through the voile curtains in the living room. "Ten minutes early. I love that." 

“Soojung, move away, now." You told her sternly. 

“The fucking car–” She cut herself with a muffled sound. As if she was trying to stifle her own screams. You guessed he'd gotten out of said car. “What the fuck, what the fuck, he’s SO hot. I’m going to pass out."

“Soojung!" Dropping your phone into your purse you slipped on your heels, nearly tripping over in the process. You gripped onto the back of the couch just in time. "I swear to god if he sees you." 

She spun around, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You never said he was that hot." 

You shrugged. "You never asked."

"I asked every goddamn second of the day. You lucky bitch." She walked towards you, fixing a piece of your hair that had fallen into your eyes. “How come you get hot billionaire Dilf and I get the man-child whose special talent is making cocktails." 

"Shut up," you scoffed. She loved Taehyung and his cocktail making skills. That's how they'd met after all. She drunk at the bar three days a week for a month straight until he asked her out. 

The doorbell rung and you froze, remembering how nervous you were. Soojung's antics had distracted you for a while but now reality was setting in. As you turned to leave she tapped your ass. “Get that Dilf dick, girl!”

"Soojung, I swear to god –”

"I won't wait up."

Ha. As if. She'd be glued to that window until Seokjin dropped you off back home. You knew her all too well, you'd been best friends for over ten years. 

In the entryway now, you didn't have time for breathing exercises. Although, you wished you'd had once you opened the door to see Seokjin stood there looking devastating handsome. 

“Hi," he smiled, eyes lighting up when he saw you. 

“Hey," you managed to squeeze out, cemented to the ground. 

He was dressed in a double breasted navy two piece that must have been tailored to fit his body down to the millimetre, a crisp white dress shirt on underneath. His hair looked shorter, falling just above is eyebrows and parted slightly in the middle. He looked good enough to eat. Or good enough to make you pass out. Either one. 

“You look beautiful," he awed, rendering you pretty speechless. 

This was a date. It really was a date. 

"Thank you," you managed to reply, needing to return the compliment. But what could you possibly say?! “You look…really good." 

Oh god. How embarrassing. 

Especially when Seokjin burst out laughing, that familiar squeak to it that you'd heard at the parent-teacher meeting. "I'll take it. Thanks." He tilted his head. "Are you ready to go? I'm a bit early, I know. Sorry about that." 

You nodded, clutching your purse tight to your side. "I, uh... I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing." You raised your voice a little so she'd hear you, but on her best behaviour she stayed deathly silent. Well done, Soojung. 

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but you figured you'd fill him in inside the car. "It's fine," he shook his head.

Seeing you stepping forward he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to invite you to lead the way. You did, making sure not to look back towards the living room window, because you knew for a fact you'd see Soojung pressed up against it. 

.

.

“This is all new for me.” Seokjin admitted, sat opposite you as you waited for your dessert. “I haven’t been on a date for years.”

To say the night had gone well would be an understatement. At first you’d been too nervous to even breathe, especially with Seokjin looking like that just a few centimetres away from you as he drove. It didn’t help that he seemed to be some type of regular at the restaurant, getting greeted as if he was an old friend of the manager and led to his ‘usual’ table; a quiet spot away from the hustle and bustle. It turned out he co-owned the place with his brother, looking mildly embarrassed as he told you. It was cute, but he had nothing to be self-conscious over, this was his life, normal to him. I hope you don’t see it as a cop-out, he confessed, causing some confusion your end. Why would you see it that way? This restaurant was beautiful, certainly popular, and you couldn’t wait to try the food. You told him as much and he laughed about feeling nervous now. 

You tried lobster for the first time ever – his recommendation. It was kind of messy, but he ordered the same so you were both in it together. You laughed, you joked, you got to know one another more. Conversation came easy, both relaxed in one another’s company, and after the main you both decided to share a dessert, too stuffed for anything more. 

“Snap,” you grinned, silently happy that was the case, although rather amazed. Seokjin was, well… him, who wouldn’t want to snap him up? However then again, he was a busy, divorced father. Dating probably wasn’t high up on his list. You were so distracted by his confession, you didn’t even comprehend he’d used the word ‘date.’ 

“Really?” Seokjin’s eyes bulged slightly. Why was he so surprised? 

You shrugged casually. “It’s been well over a year since my last date.”  

Seokjin’s mouth curved, amused. “Try over ten.” 

“I wasn’t aware this was a competition,” you laughed, but yes, he indeed had you beat. 

He laughed along, the arrival of your lemon cheesecake interrupting you both for a moment. It was a few bites later when the conversation got back on track again, Seokjin’s tone careful as he looked across at you, both of you reaching for another bit of the cheesecake with your dessert forks. “You don’t mind me calling this a date, do you? This isn’t the part where you tell me you’ve been in a relationship for five years and you just thought this was an innocent thank you dinner?”

You giggled softy, shaking your head. “No. I don’t mind you calling it a date.” You brought the fork up to your mouth, taking your time to chew before you continued. “Soojung was adamant it was but I… didn’t want get my hopes up?” You wanted to be honest. This night was about opening yourself up to the uncertain. 

“Soojung, your best friend? The one you live with?” He asked. 

You nodded. You’d already told him all about your best friend, about how you lived with each other. Seokjin hadn’t bat an eyelid, which was nice. You weren’t embarrassed or anything, but the differences in your living arrangements were stark. He thought it sounded fun. He still remembered living with his best friend Namjoon back in college and how entertaining that had been. He’d definitely be up for it again if they weren’t both dads now – divorced at that, but hey ho, that was life. 

“Well, she was correct.” Seokjin continued. “I thought I made it clear but I guess I was too cryptic.” 

“So, which one is it?” You asked, lifting an eyebrow in interest. “Not an innocent thank you dinner or not an innocent dinner?” 

You were feeling brave, however your heart still thudded inside your chest, adrenaline whooshing through your veins. There was something about Seokjin that made you act so out of character… 

Seokjin failed to conceal the visible surprise across his features and you watched him swallow before he composed himself, a smirk appearing on his lips immediately. “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were flirting with me right now.”

You shrugged. “I’m just checking if your intentions are innocent or not?” You took another bite of the cheesecake. 

His smirk grew, and you watched him drop his fork onto the plate to lean back in his chair. “I would say they are, however, I did have plans to kiss you on the cheek tonight, so maybe, busted?” He chuckled then, at himself – he liked doing that you’d noticed. It was kind of cute. 

The butterflies were back. Now there was no need to ignore or try to explain them. You took them as what they were – a good sign. Humming aloud, you tilted your head to the side and pretended to contemplate. “I think I can let you do that.” 

Seokjin laughed. “You can? Okay, that sounds good.” 

You reached for your glass of wine, needing a sip just to calm the flurry inside of you. Seokjin tucked his chair closer, still laughing but quietly now, more like a chuckle. “Honestly, I was pretty much shitting my pants today.” 

You snorted into your glass, taken by surprise at his choice of words. “Sorry,” you apologised, feeling a little bit embarrassed by the sound that had just left your nose. He didn’t same fazed. “I was nervous too.” 

That seemed to settle him. He smiled fondly, fingers tracing the brim of his glass. “I guess we were being silly.” His lips parted to say something else but he hesitated. You watched him take a quiet exhale, then he continued. “My therapist has been begging me to try dating again for months but the thought has always been pretty terrifying.” He gave a small shrug, his warm eyes locking with yours. “Until I met you.” 

You could feel your heart rate speeding up, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face. He was pleased, grinning back, posture visibly relaxing. “She said I should face up to my fears and just ask you out.” 

There were a lot of thoughts whirring through your mind right now. The fact he felt comfortable enough to disclose with you that he had a therapist, and the fact that he’d even mentioned you to her, that she had encouraged him to ask you out. The fact he’d liked you enough to want to take the plunge at all. After two years of being alone, you were the woman who had made him want to try again… It felt comparable to your own thoughts, to your feelings… and that’s why you felt so relaxed tonight. It just felt right. 

“I like you, Y/N.” He confessed. “I know we don’t know one another very well, but I hope that this is just the beginning.” 

Despite his words sending your butterflies crazy, you kept your cool, trying to stunt your smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.” 

He chuckled. You let yourself smile at the sound. “Not so bad. I’ll take it.” He picked up his fork again, taking a bite of the cheesecake you’d both forgotten about. His voice was careful, genuine to match his expression, when he carried on. “Despite the circumstances of how we met and what followed, I don’t know, I haven’t felt a spark like that in forever.” He reached for a sip of his wine, laughing. “What do you think? You can call me crazy if you want.” 

“I think you’re right.” There was no doubt about it now. You’d been adamant in the beginning that was nothing there – no spark, no flirting, insisting Soojung was wrong, but now you couldn’t deny the obvious attraction. You’d immediately bounced off one another that evening during the parent-teacher meeting, despite your annoyance the day before. 

You grinned. “You frustrated me to no end but I felt something too.” 

He tilted his head to the left, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Frustrated you? How so?”

“You know how,” you laughed. “I may or may not have called you an exasperating bastard in my head.” 

He couldn’t contain himself then, taken back and genuinely amused. “Oh god,” he practically wheezed. “I like that one.” 

You laughed along, unable not to when the sound he made brought you such joy. You reached for another forkful of cheesecake, the dessert nearly coming to an end. Just like the date, you thought. You didn’t want it to end, you were enjoying yourself too much. 

“What about now?”

You looked up at Seokjin, eyes widening in question. What did he mean? He was staggeringly composed now, although his eyes shone with mischief as he grinned and explained. “Do I frustrate you now?”

You tried to stunt your own smile, shrugging your shoulders. “Not tonight.” 

“At the fate?”

“Nope.” 

He nodded his head, seemingly happy with your answers. “I guess things are looking up then.” He picked up his glass again, about to take a sip before he paused and added,  “Although, I must admit, I liked frustrating you. You look so cute when your mad.” 

You felt heat immediately burn its way to your cheeks, hoping the lighting in this restaurant was dim enough not to make it obvious. He took a swig of his wine. “Watch it, Mr. Kim.” As he chuckled it muffled inside the glass.  

You went for the last piece of cheesecake, figuring you were owed that now. You looked across at him as you chewed, knowing that if you really wanted this to happen again you needed to let him know. Face up to your fears of opening up, telling people how you really felt. “I’d like to get to know you better, Seokjin.”

“Really?” He sounded hopeful, fingers playing with the rim of his wine glass again. 

“Mmhm.” You nodded. “You seem like a lovely man if we ignore the car stealing...” 

“Hey,” he whined, “you apologised for that already, you can’t bring it up again.” You held your hands up in silent defence, chuckling silently, watching him lean closer. “But please, go back to what you were saying about me being a lovely man. Stroke my ego, it’s been a long week.” 

Had it? You were curious, concerned really. You thought to ask him if he wanted to talk about it, but you guessed the last thing he’d like to do was discuss work on a date. Instead, you decided to tell him about what attracted you most to him. The thing that had inevitably made you change your mind and realise that maybe, quite possibly, you’d misjudged him.

“Arin really adores you and I can see how much you dote on her. Any man cherished by his child is a good one in my eyes.” 

“Oh.” He simply replied, possibly at a loss of words. He looked touched – happy, but ultimately unsure of what to reply, so he bypassed it in a way, raising an eyebrow. “So is there some kind of checklist?” 

“What do you mean?” 

He gave a slight shrug. “Like, ‘kids like him – check.’ ‘He knows how to clean dishes – check.’ – I can by the way. I’m really good with a pair of washing up gloves and some dish soap.” 

You burst out laughing, not quite believing your ears. “Yeah, okay.” You admitted. “There’s a list.” Didn’t every woman have one? 

“Let’s see how I fare then.” Seokjin said, sounding sure of himself as he leant back in his seat, hands behind his head – the image of casual. Maybe you were into this cocky Seokjin… It was sort of hot. 

“Okay so…” You began, leaning forward. “Family man – check.” You’d already approved that one. “Loves animals?”

He scoffed. “Easy. Animals are so much better than humans.” 

Okay, more points his way… “Uhh.” You thought aloud, racking your brains. “Does he make me laugh?”

Seokjin mulled it over. “That sounds like a decision you have to make, but I think it’s a yes? I mean, you’ve been laughing all night. Unless you were just being nice.” 

“No, you are funny,” you confirmed, although you were unable to miss an opportunity to mess around with him. “You have that, what should I call it,” you pretended to think, “that old man type sense of humour.”

“Hey. I’m not that old,” he huffed. 

You chuckled quietly. True, he wasn’t old, but you were still surprised when you’d found out he was turning 38 this coming December. Some people were blessed with ageing gracefully. Of course he was one of them. The man looked amazing for someone two years away from forty. 

“What about you?” You wondered. “Do you have a checklist?”

He sat upright again, setting his elbow on the table to drop his chin in his palm, giving you his full attention. “Yes, and you check them all.” 

“I do?” You laughed in disbelief. Either he was easy to please or he wanted brownie points. 

He shrugged, as if to say of course. “You’re funny, caring, can be kind of scary at times – which I’m sort of into, to be honest.” 

“I’m not scary,” you protested, pouting slightly. However, what? He was into it? That made you feel funny…

He smirked. “I beg to differ.” 

You rolled your eyes. “What else do I check off?”

He didn’t need time to think. “You’re insanely beautiful.” Your dumbfounded expression made him second guess himself. He pulled a face. “Yikes. Too cheesy?”

You grinned, getting a hold of yourself. “Maybe, but then again, maybe I like that.” How could you not like being called beautiful? How could you not like receiving a compliment? Especially from him. 

He smiled, gazing into your eyes as he leant forward. You felt immediate warmth when his hand cupped yours across the table. This was the first time he’d touched you, right? Your mind was a blur right now, unable to recall two hours ago, let alone two weeks ago. When he spoke, you only felt warmer, the soft timbre of his voice fluttering through your whole body. “I’m really attracted to you, Y/N.” 

And what could you say to that? You swallowed, wetting your throat, realising it had become dry. He was waiting for a reply, amused by something – your blank looking face most probably. He had the ability to render you speechless, and he knew it. He liked it. 

Well, no, not on your watch. You’d get the last word. You’d win. 

Composing yourself, you slipped your hand from under his, tapping it lightly, as if you were consoling him. “I’ve said it once already, but you’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Kim.” 

Taken aback, he chuckled quietly in bemusement, shaking his head. “You’re going to give me wrinkles.”  

.

.

A man of his word, he did kiss you on the cheek after the date was over. He waited until he had driven you home and opened the door for you to step out of the car – ever the gentleman, you’d teased. You stood by the little gate that lead a pathway to your front door, and that’s where he’d leant down to place his lips ever so lightly against the top of your left cheek. You smiled shyly up at him, unable to play it cool this time. 

He looked a little rosy in the face too, unsure as he smiled. “I had a lovely time tonight.” 

“Me too,” you agreed. “Can I take you out next time?” You surprised yourself by the offer, that kiss must have shot some confidence into you. 

He looked surprised too, but into it, tilting his head in curiosity as he looked down at you. “Where do you suggest?”

“My place?” Okay, so it wasn’t ‘taking him out’ but you liked the idea best. Soojung could stay over Tae’s. She owed you one. “I can cook for you,” you offered, a hand unconsciously reaching for the collar of his jacket, straightening it for him. “To you know, return the favour of you paying for dinner to say sorry for paying for my car to get fixed.” 

His hand clasped around yours, dropping it between your bodies to hold it as he chuckled. 

“This is getting a little confusing now.” He swung your hand gently and you curled your little finger around his loosely. You could get used to this physical contact. It felt ordinary, like you’d been doing it forever. “Can’t we just call it dating and have done?”

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh, sounding casual and unbothered. “I guess, if it’s easier.” 

Seokjin’s laugh got lower, his face closer. His eyes kept looking between your eyes and lips, and you realised your heart was beginning to beat slower, or was it faster? You couldn’t tell anymore, but you could hear it pounding lightly inside your ears. You were in the middle of playing the same game – eyes then lips, eyes then lips – the seconds feeling more like minutes as he leant in closer and closer, but then – 

You spotted Soojung in the window as you happened to glance behind Seokjin’s shoulder. She had now totally bypassed the voile curtain, thinking she was Miss. Inconspicuous with the lights off. The street lighting was as bright as anything though, and all you could see was her face glowing like a ghost as she ruined the moment entirely. You were not having your first kiss with Seokjin in front of her prying eyes. 

Seokjin realised your attention was elsewhere now, awkwardly pulling back to scratch his neck with his free hand. You clutched at the hand that was holding yours, not wanting him to think you’d blown him off. He didn’t say anything though, just continued your conversation with a bemused smile. “Um, so what are you going to cook?” 

“What do you like?” You asked, only half your attention on him. Maybe you could silently signal to Soojung, tell her to get the hell out of the window before Seokjin noticed. 

“I’m easy,” you heard him reply. “What’s your speciality?”

“Uh…” Think Y/N, think. Distracted you said the first thing that popped into your head, still trying to force Soojung away with just your eyeballs. “Lasagne.”

“Lasagne?” He sounded interested. 

You finally met his eyes for more than five seconds, feeling a little panicky. “Yeah, my World Famous Italian lasagne.” 

Oh no. 

Seokjin laughed, dropping your hand to cup your cheek instead. Earlier, if this had happened you would have spontaneously combusted but now you had a case of the Nosey Friend and you couldn’t concentrate to save your life. “Okay, now you’re just talking big.” 

You couldn’t help it, your eyes attempting to dart past his shoulder again. He noticed – he’d probably noticed this entire time, an eyebrow of his raising. “What is going on over my shoulder?” 

You tried to stop him, clinging to his elbow, but he turned around anyway, eyes falling on Soojung immediately. You saw her instantly panic and jump back, dropping the curtain in front of the window again.  “That’s just Soojung,” you sighed. “Ignore her, she’s an idiot.” 

Seokjin was deeply amused, laughing as he turned back to you. “So, is next Saturday okay?” You pressed. 

He grinned. “Saturday sounds perfect to me.” 

As you said your goodbyes, Seokjin turned to the window and gave a small wave, chortling to himself. You couldn’t see Soojung anymore but you just knew she was still spying. But relieved Seokjin didn’t seem fazed, you made your way inside, giving Seokjin a wave by the door as he pulled off, feeling happy, yet a little sad the night was over already. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d enjoyed yourself like that. 

It was only when you were inside did you remember what you’d just done, too preoccupied to think properly beforehand. Oh God, the lasagne. Saturday night was going to be a disaster. 

Soojung came running into the entry way, interrupting your freak out. “He saw me! He saw me!” Her voice was shrill, and you couldn’t tell if it was because she was embarrassed or excited. 

“That’s what happens when you spy, idiot,” you swiped, kicking off your heels. The instant relief brought you no comfort. “Soo, I’ve done something stupid.” You admitted. 

She instantly looked worried. “What? What have you done?”

You sighed, already feeling like a fool. “Okay so, I invited him over next weekend and said I’d cook for him.” 

“Girl is horny for that D–”

“Shut up, that’s not the problem,” you stopped her. She looked puzzled. “You were distracting me!” It was all her fault. You weren’t taking the blame. “He asked me what I was gonna cook and I told him I make a World Famous Italian lasagne!” 

Your best friend was silent for an extended second, making sense of your words before she burst out laughing. Highly dramatic, practically doubled over, splitting her sides. Even more dramatic than you for freaking out over a damn lasagne. 

“You have never made lasagne in your entire life!” She exclaimed. “What were you thinking?” 

“It was your fault!” It was also her fault you didn’t get to kiss Seokjin properly too. But you weren’t going to bring that up now, unable to bear the constant teasing that would ensue. 

“My fault?!” She laughed. You just rolled your eyes. She did not appreciate that at all. “Whatever. I can’t wait to see your “World Famous Italian lasagne.” Make sure to save me some, won’t you?”

“Right,” you huffed. “For that, I’m not telling you how the date went.” 

She soon changed her tune, needing all the details just to be able to sleep tonight… 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#jin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

[writefightandflightclub]

Right behind you:(Bodyguard!Santiago “Pope” Garcia x M!Celebrity!reader)

This is my offering for this week’s #writerwednesday from @autumnleaves1991-blog, which this week is joint with @flightlessangelwings’ Jey’s Pride celebration! 🥳

The verbal prompt was: glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side.”

The visual prompt is the photo below.

This gave me the idea for a very quickly written one shot with bodyguard!Santi and male celebrity reader! I hope you like it!

Warnings: food mentions; mentions of panic attack / hyperventilating. Mentions of sensory overload. One mention of Santi “sucking off” reader. Language. TYPOS, undoubtedly.

Rating: mature for mentions of oral sex but no explicit / actual smut.

Gender stuff: he/him pronouns / masc! terms of endearment used for reader. Implied that reader is a penis owner - no other physical descriptions besides reader wearing a suit and some make-up.

Genre: angst then mainly fluff and happiness! Hurt / comfort, I guess.

ALSO: BONUS CAMEO FROM ANOTHER OSCAR CHARACTER. Did you spot him?

You perch on the couch in your suite, taking steadying breaths and trying desperately to ward off hyperventilation as your bodyguard grips your trembling hand firmly in his. The air is quaking in and out of your lungs and you can no longer help the tears which spike in your eyes and spill over on to your cheeks.

He gives your fingers a squeeze as he crouches before you, and you can’t help the surge of guilt that this is so far outside of his job description. He’s meant to protect you, not comfort you. His work centres on your physical well-being, but you can’t count the times he’s bolstered your emotional well-being too. Then again, this is the only time he’s done so quite as blatantly in front of the rest of your staff, perhaps.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cry, sweetie,” your make-up artist - who will not be getting rehired you decide suddenly- flaps around you, attempting to fuss over you with a tissue. Her panic about her work being ruined at the worst possible moment is plain as day, and it only makes your chest constrict further.

“This isn’t helping” is the only thought blaring loudly in your mind, but you cannot for the life of you push the words out right now. You shut your eyes in an attempt to block it all out. To subdue the sensory overload.

You are thankful that your bodyguard intuits that sentiment on your behalf when you can’t, and you hear his voice is coming from a different angle now, his head whipped sharply sideward and up towards the offending MUA.

“For real? Ffff....” you close your eyes and hear Santi bite down on a curse. You’d laugh if you weren’t so preoccupied, trying desperately to focus on his voice amidst the chaotic, intersecting hubbub of the room. “Ma’am, could you please back the shit up?” He bites. Apparently he can’t stifle the cursing entirely.

Your limp hand travels along with his as he waves his arm around emphatically. “In fact. Out. Everyone out. Now. Please.”

His request slices through the nervous air in the room, his words deep and commanding and delivered with an authority that you doubt anyone would dare question. This man must be obeyed, and in the back of your mind you congratulate yourself for your decision to take a chance on hiring this moody ex-soldier with creaky knees. When he needed to he could certainly clear a room. And on top of that, he offers you a whole lot more besides.

Indeed, here he is, going above and beyond, kneeling on said creaky knees for you. Protecting you, and comforting you too.

Your eyes are still closed as the room gradually quietens, until it is so still you could hear a pin drop. Until you can hear the steady rise and fall of Santi’s breath. Until you can hear the delicate wet noise of his lips parting so his tongue can skim his lips. You can hear him swallow.

As you hear the sound of the final remaining person shuffle out, and the door gently click closed behind them, you are finally able to peel open your eyes. You are able finally able to release your bottom lip from the grip of your teeth, an indent having formed where you have bitten down so hard you have threatened to draw blood.

Santi is as still as death as he waits, and as soon as he hears that final click, he is moving. Only then, does he allow his (thin) veneer of professionalism to collapse. He allows the flats of his palms to snake up your thighs, rubbing reassuring shapes into you, and you feel the familiar heat and press of of him through the luxe fabric of your suit trousers.

“Look at me, cariño,” he soothes, in a deep, fond tone, entirely different to those bitten off commands reserved for the rest of your entourage. “It’s just you and me now. Look at me, baby.”

You do. You look into his big brown eyes and you and he could be the only two people in the world, never mind the room. You sniff, and you fumble away a stray tear before settling your palms on top of his.

You slow your breathing and Santi flashes you a small, proud smile. “That’s it, honey. Nice and slow. Just like that.”

Then, he flinches, his head leaning to the side as though he could physically retreat from whatever angry voice is no doubt blaring into his ear. Then, he makes a point of taking the earpiece out altogether, letting it hang over the collar of his white shirt.

He tugs in a huge exhale too, letting go of the tension he held in his body through his concern for you, although his eyes slit flit around your face in residual concern.

“They’ll be mad you did that,” you warn, with a nod to his earpiece.

“Whatever. It’s not my job to get you to the red carpet on time. It’s my job to look after you.”

“Your job? Hmm? That all I am to you?”

He flashes you a lopsided smile as you tease him. “I’m a lucky man. My job happens to be a thing I love doing outside of work too.” You lift your palm to his face, the familiar texture of his stubble beneath your fingers. “Now, honey. No rush. But do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You look away from him then as you realise he won’t let you distract him enough to avoid the true issue at hand, but his hands are still languidly smoothing your thighs, and you know he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to before you’re ready. He might dole out some tough love, eventually, but not until he is sure that you can take it. He lets you fumble until you find the words. “It’s... even the thought of it, Santi. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever done. All those cameras. All those eyes on me, I...”

Santi shushes you, as he hears the resurgent panic creep into your voice, even as your fingertips idly trace over his handsome features, a self-soothing unconscious thing, as he continues to kneel before you.

But while you may be panicked, he’s smiling. Looking up at you earnestly. “You deserve all those eyes on you, hermoso.” You don’t mind at all that when his voice comes out now it’s both fond and a just a little dirty as his own, very attentive eyes sweep over you.

“I don’t know...” You nibble on your lip again.

“Baby. You deserve this night. You’ve worked so hard for this. You’re so talented. And holy shit. You look so fucking hot in this suit I can barely function.” You let out a small, tentative laugh, which Santi seems pleased by, his own eyes creasing at the corners in return. “Besides,” he continues, tone more earnest now, his thick brows raised as he hammers his point home. “I’ll be right there. Just a few steps behind you, okay, mi Principe?”

You take one more deep breath, expelling it slowly and steadily through the “o” of your mouth, and Santi can’t resist your pursed lips a moment longer. Yet, for all his comments about how hot you are, his kiss is not as devouring as you might expect. It is a soft, tender thing, barely skimming your lips, and yet even so it appears to inspire a reverent heat in him, his eyelashes fanned on his cheek as his eyes remain closed a moment longer. As he expels a gust of disbelieving air at how you make him feel from this alone.

“Or,” he proposes, his voice breathy. “We could sack this whole thing off? We could order chilli cheese fries to the room and I can suck you off until you can’t think straight?”

You kiss him again, this time giving him just a hint of tongue, even as you laugh musically into his open, increasingly eager mouth.

“Appealing as that sounds, my love, I probably shouldn’t miss this...” you nod your head towards the door “...lil thing.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Santi concedes with a fond, lopsided smile, his eyes flashing with adoration, until he reluctantly schools himself back to something resembling professionalism. He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, and for his... eagerness to subside, before asking “You ready?”.

You nod. “Ready as I’m gonna get.”

“There he is. That’s my man.” Santi gives your thighs one more squeeze before he stands, and you swear you hear his poor knees creak; and then, he is replacing his ear piece, his face becoming all business as he presses two fingers to his ear. “Kolpakov? We’re ready to move out. Everyone in position?”

He awaits the response before turning back to you, practically gasping as he sees you stood there in all your glory for the first time. His eyes sweep up and down the length of you. He shakes his head incredulously, switching his mic off for a moment more. “Fuck me. You look like a fucking dream.”

“Not so bad yourself,” you respond in a loving, flirtatious tone, dancing your fingertips across his chest as you sweep past him towards the doorway and he turns with you as if in your thrall.

As you prepare, taking another deep breath and gripping the handle, Santi reaches for your arm, delaying you for just another moment. “Santi,” you laugh. “We can do the chilli cheese fries later, I promise.”

But that’s not quite what he has in mind. He looks at you intensely, and he cups your face in his broad palm. “Don’t forget. You deserve those eyes on you. But if you get overwhelmed, know that my eyes are on you. Wherever you go, I’ll be right behind you.”

The sentiment and sincerity with which he says this makes your mouth fall open in shock. Makes your chest constrict with happiness rather than nerves - but you aren’t afforded the opportunity to respond. In the next moments, the door is flung open, and your entourage is flooding you, barking directions and whisking you down the staircase and out on to the red carpet.

You are pulled away from Santi, and you don’t get to be near him again, besides a quick, surreptitious whisper into the shell of your ear as he follows you out the door “we need to talk about your ass in these pants because holy shit” - but that is all you can steal.

True to his word though, wherever you go he is right behind you. He is there with a firm arm to form a protective wall should a photographer come too close, or a fan get too handsy over a barrier. He is standing, stern and formidable to your rear as you provide sound bites to the tv stations forming a line up to the venue (and, trying very hard not to ogle your ass in these pants, probably).

He’s right behind you, designed to fade into the background in every sense. For all his charisma, he’s good at it. Not drawing attention. Even his suit is designed to be non-descript.

But... that’s not where he should be, you realise.

And, when you are almost at the end of the carpet, you stop in your tracks. You hesitate, and you turn around, your gaze instantly finding him in the crowd. He looks concerned, alarmed, as though you may have gotten the jitters again and like you might be about to do a runner.

But that’s not it. That’s not it at all.

In fact, you are more calm and sure than you have been all evening, looking at his befuddled, deer in headlights expression as all the attention suddenly falls on him. He has some big talk and a tough exterior, but the centre of him is soft, and you love that about him.

And so, a cautious smile blooms on your face as you settle firmly on your plan of action, and you walk determinedly in the “wrong” direction, going against the stream of attendees and making a beeline for your love, as he, for once -your man of action- stands frozen in confusion.

Then, when you arrive at him you stop, placing both your hands flat on the lapels of his suit, smoothing them down.

“What are you-?” he begins to ask, but you cut him off.

“Santi, my love. This is ridiculous. I don’t want you behind me. I want you by my side. Where you should be. So, fuck it. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to this premiere?”

He answers with a smile. With sparkling eyes. With his arms flung around your waist. With the press of his curved lips against yours, and a slip of his supple tongue. “Baby. I’ll always be by your side.” His hands slip a little lower. “Or - you know - sometimes right behind you.” He winks at you. God, you adore this idiot.

So, you wrap your arms around him, guffawing fondly into his neck before kissing him again, more deeply, not caring who’s watching. Your face splits with a beaming smile as you break from the embrace and link your arm into his, proceeding to walk up the carpet again: together this time.

“Fuck me though, honey,” Santi leans over to confide in you as he straightens up his tie, as if suddenly noticing the photographers for the first time now that they are noticing him. “You could have warned me you were going to french me on the red carpet, I would have put on a better suit.”

You laugh warmly as he continues to babble, and you reassure him that he looks perfect.

You know he’s doing his best to mask it, but he’s the nervous one now - you can tell. “Don’t worry, handsome,” you reassure. “Just you and me, remember?”

No-one else in the world.

“Jesus. How do you do this?” he asks, balking at all of the camera flashes going off in his face, his voice choked.

Luckily, Kolpakov - his second in command- figures out what’s happening and takes the cue to intervene, shifting the line back just a little to give the two of you some space. A good job too as you see beads of sweat forming on your love’s brow.

“How do I do this?” you ponder. “Well, I always have you to protect me, right?” You squeeze his arm tenderly. “And I’ll protect you now, my darling.”

This- having him by your side? You have no doubt that this feels right. It is where he has been all along, albeit only in the shadows. In private moments. But tonight, as he encouraged you into the spotlight, you realised how little you cared for hiding. You need him with you.

“Jesus,” Santi chuckles, looking around and trying to take everything in. “The boys are gonna have a fucking field day with this one. I didn’t even tell them we were dating.”

“What the hell, Garcia?!” you chide fondly, mouth open in a shocked “o”, before beginning to chatter and banter away with him as you easily fall into step together. Distracting him from his nerves like he always does for you.

With Santi by your side, you no longer care about all of the other eyes on you. All of the camera flashes. The crowds. Those watching at home.

You’re proud of your achievements. You’re proud of your relationship. And besides, the only eyes on you which you pay any heed to are his. Santiago’s gorgeous brown eyes, which, right now, shine with nothing but pride.

Yours shine right back.

You think he is the one who deserves all eyes on him, tonight.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #writer wednesday #Oscar Isaac #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #male reader #m!reader #mlm

[queenshelby]

DRAMA TEACHER – PART ONE

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Divorce, Broken Relationship, Mention of Abuse

Words: 3,567

***New to Dublin***

It has been several weeks since you moved from the UK to Dublin to start a new life with your son Lucas who recently turned 16.

You left an abusive relationship and finally filed for divorce. Nonetheless, Lucas blamed you for everything even for the fact that his father wasn’t allowed to see him until the court orders have been finalised due to his addictions and history of violence.

Lucas hated the fact that he was now attending a new school and, just after two days, he was getting himself into trouble for smoking weed on school premises.

Despite this, you enjoyed your new job as a drama teacher and had recently suggested to the director of the school that it would be fantastic for the children who enrolled into your extra curriculum arts program to participate in an actual play in front of their families and the teachers of the school.

‘What do you think about it Adam?’ you asked. Adam was the school principal and your friend since high school. He always had a crush on you, but never admitted it. It wasn’t until recently that he finally asked you for a date, an offer which you declined since you were working with him on a daily basis.

‘Sure, if you think the students are willing and able to put in this kind of effort, why not?’ Adam said, allowing you to take charge of the extra curriculum drama activities as you see fit. He was just glad to have you on board after the last drama and literature teacher employed by the school was a disaster.

‘I have about six students in two of my classes who seem to be very talented and I think it would be beneficial for them to build up the confidence they need if they want to pursue a career in acting’ you explained before giving Adam the names of the six students.

‘Perhaps you can suggest it to their parents?’ you then went on to say and Adam agreed.

Three weeks later, you got notice from Adam advising you that five out of the six students wish to participate in the program but, in order to be signed off by the board, you would need to find five more students and a volunteer parent to assist you with any work that is to be conducted outside school premises due to regulations imposed by the board.

‘You’ve got anyone in mind?’ you asked.

‘Actually, one of the parents has offered and I think he would be a good fit as he is a well-known actor and has had several stage performances himself’ Adam explained.

‘I assume you are talking about Hendrix and Charlie’s dad?’ you asked, remembering having met him a few times already at pick up on Wednesdays and every second Friday.

‘Yes, Cillian Murphy’ Adam said before continuing on ‘Cillian mentioned that he’s got no engagements for the next three months, so I suggest you talk to him’ Adam suggested.

‘Alright. So, do you know each other since you are on first name basis?’ you asked surprised.

‘Yes, for a matter of fact, I do. His brother is married to my sister. We occasionally have a few drinks. He is easy going. You will get along just fine’ Adam said.

‘Alright, I will talk to him then. Thanks Adam’ you said before quickly leaving Adam’s office.

Adam had recently made yet another attempt to ask for a date which you pushed back on, which meant that you tried to engage in as little small talk as possible.

***Interested in Someone Else***

The following Wednesday, when Cillian picked up his boys from school, you approached him. You felt somewhat uncomfortable about it, knowing that he was probably overqualified for this task. But, he had offered and there was no one else who you thought could do a better job with the students than someone like him, someone with experience.

‘Uhm, Mr Murphy, do you have a minute?’ you asked as he was trying to get his sons to pack up their bags while they were too busy fighting with each other once again. They both were very creative, but also very messy and constantly argued.

‘Oh no…what did they do?’ he chuckled as he pulled Hendrix’s bag apart looking for the rest of the mandarin peel which Charlie had stuffed in there just seconds ago to get under Hendrix’s skin.

‘Jesus Hendrix’ he huffed as he found three empty chocolate wrappers instead and put them into the bin.

‘Sorry Miss L/N, you have my attention now…you were saying?’ he chuckled

‘The boys are great, really well behaved’ you said as you noticed that Cillian looked at you with concern, thinking his sons were in trouble.

‘Really? I find that hard to believe’ he laughed before telling them off again for fighting with each other.

‘I have spoken to our principal, Mr Walsh, and he mentioned that you would be willing to get involved in the drama project as a volunteer. In order to get it approved by our board, I would need one parent to volunteer’ you explained shyly.

‘That’s right, so long as it is within the next three months. After that I will be in the US for a few months for work’ Cillian explained just before the boys interrupted him.

‘I assume that’s what the beard is for?’ you grinned, having noticed that it has slowly been growing longer and longer over the past few weeks.

‘Unfortunately’ he laughed, running one of his hands over his stubble just as Charlie came over and interrupted him.

‘Seriously Dad? Do you know how embarrassing this will be for us if you are working with Miss L/N?’ Charlie huffed.

‘Yes, Charlie wants to impress Nadine Seymour and you are really going to ruin it’ Hendrix teased, causing Charlie to nudge him

‘No fighting and no girlfriends! Understood?’ Cillian chuckled before inviting you for a coffee on Friday after school so that you can discuss the drama program.

You gladly accepted Cillian’s invitation, much to his sons’ disappointment.

‘Are you having a date with our teacher? That’s so disgusting’ you then heard Hendrix say as Cillian was walking off with them.

***Two Weeks Later***

Two weeks later, your drama project was in full swing and you had decided to allow the students to practise their play at a real theatre in Dublin once per week when Cillian was available.

You and Cillian got along well and his boys continuously teased him about hanging out with their teacher. But there was nothing awkward between you until, one day, you engaged into some deeper conversation while none of the children were around.

Cillian had found out about your son’s problems at school. His boys had told him about Lucas’s reputation and, over a few hours and a few beers following theatre practise, you opened up to him about your divorce and your relationship with Lucas’s father.

You didn’t know why you told him, but you enjoyed his company. He was a good listener and he was quite reserved and private which made you trust him.

But, over the following week, you started to enjoy his company a little too much. He certainly was an attractive man and, by what you could tell, a fantastic father. He seemed perfect and you knew you shouldn’t fantasise about him the way you did over that past week.

This was easier said than done. He had everything your ex lacked. He was patient, kind and empathetic. You enjoyed working with him and your son soon noticed, giving you a hard time about it soon enough.

To your surprise, after about three weeks of working together and following the last practise, Cillian took matters a little further than you had expected and, after all the kids had left and his boys had been picked up by their mother, Cillian asked you whether you wanted to have dinner with him some time.

You politely declined his offer, explaining to him that you weren’t ready to start dating and that sure felt like a date to you.

That same night, you regretted your decision after talking to your sister about it. You trusted your sister with everything and you encouraged you to give him a chance.

You were afraid to develop feeling, to let anyone to your life, but you were of the view that you must learn how to trust before you can love again.

‘Does your dinner offer still stand?’ you texted Cillian that night, hoping that he would reply quickly to your message.

‘It sure does’ Cillian texted back within seconds.

‘Pick me up at 6 o’clock tomorrow? Lucas is having a sleep over at a friend’s place’ you responded.

‘6 o’clock it is’ Cillian texted back.  

***Date Night***

The following evening, Cillian picked you up at 6 o’clock as promised and, after complimenting your outfit, which was a black buttoned dress, you both got into his car and drove into Dublin’s city centre.

‘So where are you taking me?’ you asked somewhat shyly and Cillian was quick to hand you a pamphlet.

‘A theatre?’ you asked surprised.

‘Sort of. It is a restaurant in the arts district where you can watch pop up shows during the drama festival. It’s contemporary, but you might spot some real good talent there’ Cillian explained and your excitement was growing.

His idea was very thoughtful and you appreciated the fact that this wasn’t going to be your average Italian restaurant date.

Over dinner you and Cillian talked a lot about your lives, your relationships and your children while watching the most interesting people perform the most interesting short plays. Some of them were real pieces of art and the performers put an immense effort into their performance and costumes.

After about two hours, Cillian offered to drive you home and you gladly accepted his offer.

‘Uhm would you like to come up for a drink?’ you asked as you arrived at your apartment building.

‘Sure, yes, why not’ Cillian said before turning off his car and following you to your apartment.

But the drink never eventuated and, as soon as you opened the door to your apartment, Cillian’s lips were on yours.

‘Fuck I am sorry Y/N’ Cillian said, pulling back quite quickly as he realised that things were probably moving too fast for you after what you had told him a few days ago.

‘No, don’t. I want this’ you reassured him, your voice quiet and your eyes fierce before pressing your lips back onto his.

‘For once, I want to feel like a real woman. I want to be desired... loved, I want to know what this feels like’ you said as you could see the fire in his eyes as you slowly dragged him into your bedroom.

He stepped forward then, tilting your chin up with his finger, brushing his lips over yours, and allowing his tongue to caress your lower lip. Your body shook softly as you melted into his embrace, your lips parting, granting access to Cillian's tongue, which immediately snaked into your mouth and embarked on a search for yours.

You sighed softly, draping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against Cillian's torso. The kiss was deep, passionate and almost immediately took your breath away. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, stoking the fire already burning deep within your body. When Cillian finally released you from his embrace you were left panting and wanting more.

‘You are beautiful, you know that?’ Cillian whispered as he started unbuttoning the black dress that draped so alluringly across your breasts and waist.

‘If you say so’ you giggled before looking straight into his eyes. You proceeded to shrug the dress from your shoulders, blushing as Cillian's eyes consumed you.

He kissed you again, his hands sliding down to cup your ass as he pressed his fully hard cock against you.

‘I want you, Cillian’ you gasped softly as you felt him rubbing against you.

He walked you slowly back to the bed, laying you down gently and stripping his clothes from his body. You looked up at him, biting your lip, as he first pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly shaped chest and torso. Your heart began to pound as he kicked off his shoes and undid his pants, dropping them to his ankles. In no time at all his cock was free and pointing proudly to the ceiling.

You stared at it from your place on the bed, mesmerized by the way it bobbed and weaved as he gazed lustily at your nearly naked body.

You gasped when Cillian got to his knees, spreading your legs and placing soft butterfly kisses on your thighs. You blushed, knowing what Cillian intended, an act that your ex-husband had never, in all your years of marriage, performed.

‘Cillian’ you said quietly, attempting to close your legs.

Cillian held them apart gently as he looked up at your quizzically.

‘I've never...I've never had anyone do that to me’ you said, refusing to meet his eyes.

‘Really?’ he asked surprised and you answered by shaking your head almost shyly.

‘Well, there is a first time for everything Y/N. Just relax. I will stop whenever you tell me to, alright?’ he said, attempting to soothe and calm you and you nodded, biting your lip in anticipation.

And with that he reached up and grasped the waist of your panties, tugging at them gently. You submitted, lifting your hips and closing your eyes as Cillian slid the panties down your thighs. You kept your legs clamped tightly together however as he dropped them to the floor.

Your ex husband had been the first and only men you’ve been with and you were beyond nervous.

‘Cillian’ you murmured as he pressed gently on the insides of your knees in a silent request.

Your legs parted in response and you blushed a deep red at the thought of your most intimate spot exposed to Cillian's gaze. Leaning forward, he kissed the inside of each of your thighs before, a moment later, his tongue was buried in your soft folds, tasting your sweetness. Your body bucked wildly as he drew his tongue through your sweet flesh, your hips rising from the bed from the jolts of pure pleasure that shot through your body when he discovered the little bud that was your clit.

‘Oh God, Cillian!’ you moaned, covering your eyes with the back of your hand.

He opened your legs a little more, twisting his head and running the tip of his tongue the full length of your glistening pussy, savoring the sweet taste of your juice. Reaching up, he found one of your stiff nipples and tugged at it softly as he continued exploring you with his mouth.

You moaned, squirming on the bed from the pleasure building within you as he relentlessly worked at your pussy.

‘Don't stop please, fuck’ you hissed, grasping at the sheet and closing your thighs around his head.

Cillian had no intention of stopping as his tongue lapped at you, his mouth moving in circles as he sought ways to enhance your pleasure. Your body arched upwards when his lips closed around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking at it gently with the very tip of his tongue. Your breathing was ragged, your moans increasing in volume as his mouth worked relentlessly at your sex. It took no more than a few minutes for your pleasure to build to an overwhelming level.

‘Oh my God! Cillian! Oh my God!’ you screamed as a searing orgasm claimed you.

Your entire body shuddered and shook as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you. Cillian simply gripped your thighs and continued to lick your clit as your body convulsed on the bed. The orgasm seemed to go on forever and it was at least a minute before your mind was once again in control, Finally, your eyes flickered open and you looked at Cillian shyly, his head still positioned between your thighs.

‘Cillian, that was...oh my God, it was amazing. I never imagined...’ you said exhausted.

Cillian raised his head, grinning.

‘There's a lot more to come, Y/N’ he replied, raising himself to your knees.

He could see the trepidation on your face as you eyed his hard, swollen cock which pointed eagerly towards the ceiling.

‘It's okay, I will go slowly’ he said softly, caressing your thigh with his fingers. ‘Do you have…?’ he then went on to ask and, before he could finish his sentence, you shook your head.

‘I’ve just had my implant replaced’ you assured him and this was all he needed to hear.

Reaching down and grasping his member he dragged his head through your folds, causing you to moan once again. The heat from his cock was palpable, the touch of it electric, as he moved it through your puffy lips.

‘Cillian, please... I need you’ you moaned.

‘Not yet, Y/N’ he teased, sliding the head of his cock up and down your slick slit, spreading your soft lips but refusing to penetrate your just yet.

‘God, Cillian... please’ you begged.

He relented then, groaning as he pushed the head of his cock into you, your tight walls gripping him as he pushed deeper, filling you.

‘Oh god yes’ you hissed, your eyes glued to his as he began stroking the full length of his cock into you.

He kissed you, taking your mouth with his as you moaned in pleasure. Drawing his hips back, Cillian's cock slid easily from your sex, eliciting a delicious whimper from your throat. Immediately he thrust back into you in one smooth movement and then repeated the action, giving you deep hard strokes as he built to a steady rhythm.

You moaned and squirmed beneath him; your body rising from the bed to meet each thrust of his almost perfect manhood.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you gasped as he worked himself in and out of you. Your body was on fire, every nerve alight as Cillian fucked you in a way you had never before experienced. Usually, your ex-husband would mount you and simply jackhammer into you for a couple of minutes before gasping in your ear as he came. Cillian, however, was intent on ensuring your pleasure, varying the pace and depth of his thrusts, gyrating his hips against yours, and changing the angle now and then to ensure that he ground against your clit.

Fuck, Y/N... you are so tight. It feels so good’ Cillian moaned.

Cillian, no...’ you whimpered as he pulled his cock from you.

‘Don’t worry, I am not finished with you yet. Turn over’ he chuckled.

You scrambled to your hands and knees quickly, the need to have Cillian's cock inside you driving your movements. Cillian, for his part, felt the same and he wasted no time in entering you again.

He thrust deep into you, driving the breath from your body as he pounded his cock into your sweet, tight pussy over and over. You were in heaven; Cillian was taking you in exactly the way you had imagined so many times over the past few weeks when you dreamt about him. His desire for you palpable in every thrust of his rock-hard member.

As Cillian continued to thrust into you, you buried your face in the pillow, moaning continuously as Cillian took you, the friction of his shaft against your tight walls sending waves of pleasure to the sensory centers of your brain. Instinctively, you pushed back against him, attempting to get every inch of him into you. You were rewarded with a long, guttural moan.

‘Y/N, I'm close’ he warned you.

‘Good, so am I’ you gasped in response. ‘Take me, Cillian’ you moaned.

He picked up the pace, his thrusting becoming almost desperate as he fought to make you finish before he did. He held you in place tightly, his solid shaft slamming into you again and again.

Suddenly you were there, crying out loudly as an intense, almost nuclear, burst of pleasure erupted from deep within and spread through your body.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian fuck’ you screamed, your pussy convulsing around Cillian's shaft.

The sight and sound of your orgasm was too much for Cillian and after just a few more thrusts, he too erupted, forcing spurts of warm cum into you. His eyes glazed and he lost all sense of time and place as he surrendered to the intense pleasure swamping his body.

‘Fuck, that's so good!’ he panted as the two of you, shuddering and shaking in unison, reveled in the fruits of your labor.

Finally, it was over. Gently, you uncoupled your panting bodies and, rolling onto his back, Cillian gasped again, eliciting a wide smile from you.

You snuggled against his warm chest, your thigh cast carelessly over his legs. You were content, basking in the warm glow of perfect sex.

But, your sense of lust and desire was soon to come to an end as you heard Lucas shouting.

‘Mum, are you home?’ he yelled out, causing both Cillian’s and your eyes to widen.

   Tag List (Cillian):

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#cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

New Start

For Maribat March day 15 theme new start

Master List

Marinette was lucky, she could admit that. Not because of the pocket-sized goddess of creation and luck she carried in her purse, but because of where she is. Sure, living with a magical emotional terrorist isn’t ideal, but it’s better than what her fate would have been had she never been found. 

Growing up on the streets of Gotham had been rough to put it lightly. Very lightly. In her time she had seen many good souls come and go, some to their deaths, some to better lives. She was grateful she was the latter, not many she knew had the opportunity she had to have a new start.

In other circumstances, Tom and Sabine would be horrible parents. After all 90 percent of the time they left her to her own devices. However in this case, it’s fine. For one, she was once a street kid, she knows how to take care of herself. And she is also Scarlet Luck, protector of Paris, wielder of the Ladybug miraculous, and newly appointed guardian of the miraculous. So them turning a blind eye to her sudden disappearances did wonders for her. 

All she needed in this life was a roof over her head and some decent food. Having her adoptive parents be bakers was a plus too. 

The only downside to this life was school. Not because she hated learning or the places school provided. No, she loved sitting in the silence of the library and doing her schoolwork or reading a book. And she especially loved the art room, where she found her love of designing and sewing. 

The problem was the people, the staff that mattered to her and her future, were all pushovers and she wasn’t allowed to transfer into Ms. Mendeleiev’s class. Ms. Bustier was the type to let the kids figure it out on their own, rather than step in when she was most needed. And Principal Damocles shouldn’t even be a principal with how much he caves in when it comes to the Mayor’s daughter or Rossi. 

She was thankful, however, that within her first month the students at Francoise Dupont learned not to mess with her. Or speak to her. Or be near her in general. And she was perfectly okay with that. She quite liked her spot in the back with Nathaniel, one of the only people she considered a friend. 

They had a silent agreement, which was to be silent and leave the other alone. Nathaniel would draw while Marinette would sketch and the 2 had each other's backs. Like when Marinette would whisper Nathaniel the answers during English and he would do the same with history. 

He along with Marc, Ondine, Aurore, Mireillie, and Kagami were the only ones she considered friends. Which means they were the only ones that knew why she was so on edge with the Wayne family being in Paris. Not only did none of them know how to control their emotions, but she was sure that Jason Todd-Wayne was bound to be akumatized. Why? Because every kid that was ever on the streets of Gotham knew his story. 

He was street smart, a dork, but most importantly aggressive. On the streets he picked fights with any who tried to cross him, and when he was adopted he fought the rich kids that went to Gotham Academy. That was another thing everyone knew, he hit it big when he got adopted by the billionaire that was Bruce Wayne. While she wasn’t on the street when he was she knew he was trouble. The whole Wayne family was, whether they knew it or not. 

She already had to deal with Chat every battle, she did not want to have to deal with one of the Waynes becoming an akuma. Not only would it cause an international affair considering how important they are to America, but it could get the attention of American reporters and then the Justice League might want to get involved. She didn't want to deal with the Justice League. 

Kagami was the only one brave enough to point out how she might be afraid that people from her hometown were coming to Paris. But she was wrong and Marinette made sure she never brought it up again. Through whatever means necessary.

Now one reason that Kagami was her best friend was because they agreed on something. Never hesitate. If you have an opportunity, take it. Something important that every street kid knows. 

Well here she was, standing in front of her classroom, hesitating. She could hear her classmates talking away, whichever Waynes were here trying to gain control of the situation. She guessed her teacher was either doing something out of the classroom or not bothering to get the class in check. 

With one final wish that today wouldn't be as shitty as she hoped she opened the door. According to Nathaniel she threw it open. 

And she was right, at the front of the classroom were 3 Wayne's trying to get her class to quiet down. Buster was nowhere in sight. 

Since Nino and Adrien were closest to the door they noticed her first, stopping their conversation and trying to 'subtly' stare at her. The others quickly following their lead. All eyes, including the Waynes, were staring at her. Wonderful.

Literally all she had to do was roll her eyes and everyone averted their eyes. It was always like something out of a movie. She made her way up the stairs up to Nathaniel and her seats. Grabbing a couple of macarons out of her bag she handed them over to him before setting her notebook and pencil on her desk. 

It looked like Lila was about to say something, but a glare had her swallowing her words back down her throat. Staring straight ahead she raised her eyebrow at the Waynes that were still staring, wondering if they were going to try and continue what they were originally trying to discuss. 

After a moment the oldest among them started talking again, the other two joined in, however she could tell when they would all cast her glances. She simply acted blissfully unaware, writing notes down for her and Nathaniel while he drew. She had no idea what his grades would be like if it weren't for her. 

-

This whole week had been full of surprises for Bruce. First the League finds out that there has been a magical terrorist in Paris for 3 years that they didn't know about, and these past 3 years children have been fighting him. 

So his family being detectives, they were sent to try and get information on the ‘akuma class’. He wanted it to just be him, Dick, Tim, and maybe Cass, but of course Dick wanted the whole family to come. Try to make a family vacation out of it despite the fact that there was a magical emotional terrorist that they were trying to track down and they needed to keep their emotions in check. He means no offense but that is something neither Jason nor Damian can do. 

But somehow Dick was able to get the whole family to come because only Dick can do that. And now he had Tim and Dick with him to try to talk to the akuma class about a presentation on starting a business a ploy to try and subtly get information out of them. 

They had already done background checks on them all and their families just to be safe and were thoroughly impressed by what they saw. Many of them were gifted in sports, arts, and academics, so perhaps they were just unlucky. 

The only one that concerned him was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Only Alfred was aware that the girl was from Gotham, she was specifically a street kid. Adopted 6 years ago by Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain the girl seemed quite bright. She had excellent grades and was in the art club. However he feared what his children might do with this information. And if another reason was because she had black hair, blue eyes, and a guaranteed tragic backstory being from Gotham that set his adoption instincts on fire NO ONE HAD TO KNOW! 

So here he was with Dick and Tim, trying to get this ‘akuma class’ to quiet down so they could start the presentation. The teacher has stepped out of the room to check something with the principal and ‘give them the floor’. She probably wanted to get a reason to escape this class, he might try to get an investigation done on this school and their faculty. 

From what he observed, Marinette seemed to be absent while most of the class had seemed to be paying attention to this one girl with brown hair in a sausage hairstyle, Lila Rossi, a pathological liar, although the class didn’t seem to know that. All except a redheaded boy in the back, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, a pink haired girl on the second row, Alixandra Kubdel, and a boy with a green shirt and glasses on the third row, Maxton Kante. There was also a blond boy, Adrien Agreste, who seemed to be listening to what the girl was saying with a fake smile he knew all too well. Poor boy. 

His sons weren’t having much more luck trying to gain the attention of the class. The redhead looked to be drawing, the green shirt and glasses boy was working on what appeared to be a robot, while the pink haired girl was on her phone. Every once in a while it seemed like she sent them a sympathetic glance, the other two boys too involved in what they were doing to give them any sympathy. 

Just as he was sure his kids were about to reach their breaking points in walked the one person he hoped not to see. She slammed the door open and suddenly the whole class quieted down immediately. Now his sons were looking at her as well. She couldn’t have been more than 5’3 and she was only 16, yet she managed to silence this whole class just by appearing. 

The class also seemed to be staring at her before she rolled her eyes and they all averted their gazes. It was one of the most movie-like things he had ever witnessed. 

She walked up the steps to the back, with each step she seemed to command attention before digging into her bag and handing Nathaniel who had once been doodling a bag of macarons. He seemed to appreciate them as he gave her a small smile before proceeding to munch on one. 

Lila who had once had the attention of the class seemed to be fuming now that the attention was off of her. It seemed like she was about to say something but stopped when she caught sight of the glare Marinette was giving her. 

Marinette then proceeded to turn her attention to him and his sons, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if they were going to start. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his sons exchange a look he knew all too well, before starting the presentation. And if he or his sons casted looks over to Marinette one too many times, no one noticed. 

Bonus - 

“WE FOUND A NEW WAYNE!” Dick shouted, far too happy with his discovery. 

“Tt, what are you on about Grayson?” Damian scoffed, curiosity and jealousy bubbling in his mind at the thought of a new Wayne. 

“There’s a girl in the akuma class, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had black hair and blue eyes, both things needed to be adopted by Bruce.” Tim stated. 

“Does she have a tragic backstory?” Jason jokingly asked. 

“Do not look up anything on Ms. Dupain-Cheng. She has a family and I will not be adopting her. Am I clear?” Bruce demanded, waiting for everyone to agree before going to take a shower. 

“Babs?” Cass questioned, knowing the girl had to have found something. 

“Looking,” Babs replied, “Oh.” She stopped typing and just stared at the screen. 

“What’d you find?” Steph asked the question they were all wondering from Babs’ unusual reaction. 

“Guys,” Babs started, turning the screen to face them, “She’s from Gotham.” 

And from there all hell broke loose.

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

Inspired by this post I saw a while back: 

Marinette being a street kid from Gotham but had no previous connection to any of the Waynes was intriguing so I did it. I’m probably going to do a backstory chapter later on, just unsure which day I’ll do it on. 

Of course yesterday I was early so today I was late. The universe needs its balance. So sorry for the late post guys, I blame the universe. 

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #new start #will do another chapter #promise #just unsure when #past street kid Marinette

[burnedbyshoto]

(i won’t say) i’m in love

― Bakugou’s feelings for you are true, but he can’t seem to utter those three words no matter how much he wishes to. ―

pt 2

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pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

warnings: fluff, angst, cursing, alcohol mention, bakugou katsuki is bad at feelings

word count: 6,625

a/n: this was supposed to come out yesterday but I sort of got lazy and didn’t want to edit. anyways, I hope you enjoy, stories like this one are always fun to write and if you’re the anon who requested that bakugou thing like... a week ago, this was inspired by you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The first time that Bakugou really noticed you was during the final year at Yuuei. 

Three years of vigorous and intensive academic and heroic work at the esteemed high school had led him to this very moment. While Bakugou was not the intensive hothead he once was when he was sixteen, he was definitely still hotheaded at the prime age of eighteen. With the end of the school year approaching, heavily enforced by the fact that a crowd of third-year middle schoolers had just left campus with hopeful and tired expressions on their face, he was grumbling while making his way back to his classroom.

For the practical part of their final, they were paired off to handle some insane over the top final as always. If Bakugou knew any better, he would be paired off with someone lame like Mineta or some shit. How he missed the days the teachers thought him and that damn nerd couldn’t get along enough to pass tests together… they had been paired up so often that first year - on top of finally establishing proper respect and an unadmitted friendship - it had led them to become an unbeatable force.  

While Bakugou climbed the stairs after his loudly chattering classmates, he was sunk in his thoughts about who he would be with. Bakugou was versatile, and while he was often a pain to work with, he worked well with just about anyone. ‘Who hasn’t he worked with yet?’ he thought, his fingers fisted in his pockets while they gathered onto the floor where their classroom was located. 

“MINA AGAIN?!” was the first noise to break through the aimless chatter to hold truth and knowledge. 

Bakugou looked at Kaminari and Mina, who were both holding each other and crying. 

Every single final, they had been paired up together, each time facing off the principal to be utterly demolished. Bakugou snickered at the thought of them failing the practical final for the nth time again.

“Looks like I’m with Todoroki!” Kirishima pointed out, his hand waving at the half and half bastard who was also seeking him out. 

They had three weeks until final exams took place, and the fact that they were announcing the teams this early definitely sat the slightest bit uneasy with Bakugou. And with his attention back onto the role list, Bakugou found himself praying that Deku’s name was next to his. If there’s anyone left who wouldn’t hold him back, it would be him.

“Bakugou!” a voice yelled, and Bakugou looked away from the list to see you walking over with a wave of your hand. “We’re paired up!”

Just like that, Bakugou realized that during his three years here, he had never once been paired up with you, and his lips turned into a frown. Interesting.

“You’re not busy right now?” he didn’t even wait for you to confirm his thoughts, “Let’s go, the TDL should be free right now.” Bakugou practically commanded, uncaring that you were definitely not in clothes to be doing anything physically demanding. 

“I needa change! I’ll meet you there in ten minutes!” was your unaffected response and Bakugou’s eyes narrowed when Kirishima jabbed him in the ribs, his eyes telling him to play nice.

“Tch. Fine, just don’t take forever.”

By the time you had returned to the TDL, Bakugou was still warming up, his hoodie pulled up to help his cold ears while he stretched.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been paired up or teamed up before!” you called out while stretching your arms above your head. “You think they kept us apart for so long for that very reason?”

“Like hell I would know,” Bakugou grumbled, refusing to look at you while you finished up your warm-up routine, by the looks of it you had run from the dorm here; that was a good enough warm-up. “I don’t know what kind of crap they’re going to try and pull on us at this exam, but I want you to let you know that you better not fuck this up,” he stood up, his hands rotating in circles, relieving the built tension in his wrists while he stared at you for the first time. His calm gaze meeting your strong one. “I plan on walking out of here with a perfect score.”

A smile spread on your face while you nodded, “I plan on it, too.”

Pleased with your response, Bakugou’s lips quirked into a smirk, his stance lowering immediately, and he watched while you readied yourself. 

“Ready?”

“Come at me.”

~

Bakugou sat on the floor, his eyes wide with his shock and personal embarrassment. 

The practical final exam had been a fear-induced, villain crawling, pro hero gone bad filled nightmare. A test designed with the help of Support Course students and a teacher who generated physical and real items based on whatever she thought had caused a most horrendous scene for Bakugou and you. It was then that Bakugou realized why both of you had been paired up - your fears were one and the same.

Failure, rejection, not being enough. 

While both of you had been so good in the beginning, powering through every obstacle at alarming power and speed, there had been a hitch in the road right before the finish line. When a ‘villain’ took on the form of All Might and blamed him for this downfall that society knew. He had thought he was long past breaking over that, he believed that it was something he had healed over two years ago. This faux All Might carried himself just like the retired hero, changing between his big form and the small one, his words and accusations dropping like boulders on him with every broken whisper that passed his lips. Unlike you, Bakugou wasn’t able to fight this terror, wasn’t able to beat the thing that still tripped him up.

The loud ringing in his ear wouldn’t quit while he fell down, his breathing short and scattered. He couldn’t hear your screams while you were battling your own opponents while All Might drew closer to him.

His fault, this was all his fault.

But a bright light exploded across the room, and Bakugou eyes felt heavy while you threw him onto your back and took off. His last exam ever, and just like his first one, it finished with him being carried across the finish line, but where the first one still felt like a victory, this felt like a complete failure. 

“Bakugou!” you exclaimed, your hands finding his pale, clammy cheeks in your hands while the victory tune carried lightly in the background. “Bakugou, can you hear me?!”

Of course, he could hear you, he wanted to snap as his body instinctively wished to push off his insecurity with anger. But his tongue was too heavy in his mouth, his eyes merely focusing onto your terrified face. You had taken a blast in the face earlier, and the bruising swollen lip you had was an indicator of the failure you came across. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay!” you reassured, your smile spreading wider, brighter on your face, your calloused fingers rubbing softly against his face. “You’re okay! It was fake, remember!”

“It wasn’t fake, though,” Bakugou heaved, his fingers trembling with his grief and suffocating anger while he shoved your hands from his face. “It wasn’t fake. I’m the reason fucking All Might is gone, why the world fell into chaos! You were there that day, weren’t you? The day I was taken from the fucking forest.”

Your eyes widened from the statement, but Bakugou couldn’t blame you for that. No one but Deku, Aizawa, and All Might knew about these feelings. Still, the emotions that sat heavily on his throat seemed to pierce themself further into his throat while you very obviously thought about the circumstances of that fateful night three years ago.

“How was it your fault you were taken?” you asked, your head tilted, arms folded across your chest. 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, not at all expecting you to care or even try to calm him down. There was no point for you to either; it wasn’t as if you two were close after all. 

“I was a fucking dick back then,” Bakugou grumbled, his head turning to the side his gaze refusing to look at you. No one had ever questioned his thoughts on this statement, everyone had always left it at that.

“You’re still a fucking dick,” you half teased half spoke truthfully, and your body sank to the floor, sitting before him with a tilted curious head. “A lot of people are dicks, but that doesn’t mean dicks are targeted by villains. I mean look at Endeavor, he was sort of a flaming dick back in the day, but he’s a hero.”

“But it’s different, I was barbaric to the point where they tied me up during the sports festival,” Bakugou reasoned, his gaze turning back to you, and was slightly shocked (not that he would show it) to see annoyance in your eyes.

“Yeah, and that was total bullshit of them to do!” you exclaimed, pushing a hand onto his grenade gauntlet. “There was no reason for them to do that for you, you didn’t think you won, and they should have just let you be. Giving you a medal like that was completely idiotic of them. Should you have behaved like that? No, you shouldn’t; it was childish and dumb of you, but they’re also the adults… they should have known better before strapping you up like a rabid dog in front of the world.”

“Wha-?”

“I get that we’re not… close friends Bakugou, but if you think that the League capturing you in an attempt to make you cross sides was your fault, which would lead to Kamino… I mean, it did lead to All Might losing his ability to use his quirk and all, but this has nothing to do with you,” you affirmed, your eyes deadly serious but with a type of kindness that Bakugou wasn’t used to. “You were trying to make a name for yourself in this competitive field, and you did! I mean… don’t let this inflate your ego anymore than it already is-”

“Hah?!”

“-But you’re someone to fear. You’re strong and capable, and from everyone who was shown in that sports festival, you were definitely the one to watch. But it was the adults who fucked up that day, they’re the ones who ultimately set the scene in painting you like a deranged loose canon - which you are at times, but you’re not evil. The League thought you were that way, and I’m sure there is no doubt in All Mights eyes about what he did for you. You were someone who needed to be saved, and All Might is the world’s number one hero for a reason: self-sacrifice. It could have been you, me, or even the grouchy pork bun lady down the street - he would have given it all to save. Don’t even get me started on the fact that Japan became too comfortable with All Might and held him to the status of a god and not a human that he is… so… yeah, I’m not good with this kind of stuff, but I want you to know that this isn’t your fault. You’re in the story as to why he lost his ability to use his quirk, but All Might’s will carries on in all of us, especially in you, so unless you give up, he’ll never truly be defeated.”

It was at this moment that Bakugou finally saw you.

The way that you had been exceedingly kind and ever so gentle with him. Your words rang heavily in his ears, and a heavyweight felt freed from his shoulders the more he digested your words. He wasn’t sure when your hand began to hold his, but while he looked down at his gloved hand, he let out a shaky breath at the sight of your hand in his. 

“You’re pretty amazing, Bakugou, please don’t forget that,” you smiled, nothing but sincere truth on your tongue, and finally standing up, you looked down at him. “Well, it’s time to see how we fared, yeah?”

But there was something different in the way that his hands sweated. He knew that his hands were always perspiring. There was a normalcy to the nitroglycerine sweat that his hands emitted without a single thought, but the tightness to his stomach and the way that the sweat poured nervously from his palms made him realize that no, this was different. But what exactly? His stomach flipped at the still and happy appearance on your face, and a shadow of realization flooded through him… oh no… he knew why, but he knew he shouldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t.

With a sigh, he pushed off the floor, standing beside you, a smirk daring to pull at his lips at the way that your eyes traveled up in your surprise to his height and closeness.

“Let’s go.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Watch where you’re fucking running, dunce face!”

“I was watching!”

Bakugou’s head snapped over to your giggling face while you lay on your own towel a few paces away from him. Today was Mina’s birthday, and instead of going to a restaurant for a birthday celebration like any average person, she had decided she needed to tan. How someone who was pink could tan was beyond Bakugou, but while he had no intention of hanging out with his old classmates on his day off, Kirishima had asked him to go for him. That wasn’t enough, so when Kirishima had included that you were apart of the group that was going, Bakugou considered it for about ten minutes before finally agreeing - but he would never say it was because of you. 

So here he was practically babysitting a bunch of nineteen-year-olds while he lounged under the sun’s hot rays. He needed to get rid of the funky tan lines on his body.

“What are you laughing about?” Bakugou grunted, his eyes narrowing at your figure, which was relaxed against the soft towel you were using as a blanket of sorts. “I’ll kill you.”

“I’m sure you could,” was your smooth response, your head adjusting on your arms to look at him easier. “I just think you should rub your sunscreen in better, Sero did a horrible job at applying it on your back. Unless, of course, you want a penis tanned on you.”

“Why the hell would I want a fucking penis on my back?!” Bakugou growled, his hand grabbing his SPF 100 sunscreen and slapping a handful onto his back. 

He heard you push off the sand ground and felt you stop behind him, and Bakugou froze when your warm fingers pressed against your back. “You’re a bit helpless at this sort of stuff. I figured you’d be the type to carry around a stick of sorts so you could apply it to yourself with no issue.”

“I don’t come to sunbathe ever,” Bakugou countered, his ears lightly burning at the feeling of your hands rubbing the sunscreen against his paler back. “I’m typically covered from head to toe.”

“Oh, I am more than aware of that,” you sagely nodded, pulling away when you were done to fall back onto your towel with a grin when he finally turned to look at you. “Still, you’re a big enough nerd to do it.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped at the accusation, his eyes narrowing and his defenses on high alert, “The hell?! I’m not some damn nerd!”

“You graduated third in the class, unlike the cool kids who graduate ninth in the class,” you teased, your class ranking lower than his but still nothing to be ashamed about with who was in their class.

“That doesn’t make me a nerd, just makes me smarter than you damn idiots!”

“You’re the only person who flosses every day, always eats healthy foods, probably rivals Midoriya in hero trivia, listens to everything authorities say, never broke a rule or got detention, and sleeps at eight p.m.”

“How is any of that nerd shit? Just sounds like I’ll live longer and be better! Besides, how you know all that shit, you sound like some creepy stalker.”

A glint of amusement sparked in your eyes before you slipped on sunglasses, leaning down onto your towel with a proud grin on your face. “I have a strange fascination with nerds, sorry to disappoint you.”

Blinking in disbelief, Bakugou shook his head, settling back onto his own towel with a snort, “You’re a bigger asshole then I thought you were.”

“I hide it very well behind this pretty smile,” you flash a disgustingly pretty smile his way, and Bakugou rolls his eyes again.

“So… uh, how have things been for you at your agency?”

Bakugou would then find himself having a rather informative conversation with you. The both of you trading stories of how it was to work as a legit hero now, to no longer have to think of UA’s reputation or the fear that taking action in stressful situations would cause their learning licenses to be removed. He was also quick to discover that he really enjoyed talking with you, his often limited conversation energy never feeling drained as he continued talking.

Stories were shared, snarky comments exchanged, which left both him and you in laughter until the party of two became more.

He could barely keep a hold on his fake annoyment when both of you were being hauled into the cold ocean water, your loud shrieks as Mina tackled you into a crashing wave, making him grin as he quickly tore off Kaminari and Sero from his arms. That is until you reappeared from under the water to take him entirely off guard and tackle both of you into the water, your screams loud in his ear.

When he emerged from the salty water looking akin to a wet dog, everyone froze up in their poorly concealed concern and fear: this was war.

It had been a fun day at the beach, even if Bakugou had a hard time admitting to it, but as the sun set, the hot summer day fading into a warm summer night, and they all sat around a bonfire Bakugou felt as if the sun was still beating down on his tan skin. There was no reason for the explosive warmth invading his skin except that you were huddled at his side, your attention on the others. At the same time, you playfully fought with them, your eyes occasionally falling on him in hopes of a verbal back up. 

He agreed with you every time, growing more and more pleased with the fact that your eyes glimmered with great joy and how the others booed and disagreed until finally, they had to go.

“I miss hanging out with you,” you admitted when you all piled into the car, exhaustion sitting heavy on all of you after a good but long day.

Bakugou’s heart skips a beat, and he licks his lips, nodding slowly, not wanting to let you see how he was coloring in his embarrassing agreement.

“Yeah, whatever,” he looked at your still smiling form, letting him know you didn’t buy his statement even for a second. “...I do, too.” And the smile that consumed your face nearly killed every willpower he still had left.

It was then that Bakugou had to admit that he never thought he would have to consider.

He liked you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Bakugou is that you?!”

Bakugou had been going home. Dressed up in a formal suit, he thought he would be unrecognizable and left alone with his head hanging low and earbuds in, but he guessed no matter what, the laws of having earbuds in went ignored.

Today had been hard. Today had been the day of the funeral to one of his colleagues who had perished in a black market raid he and the agency he worked at had embarked on. It had been a perfect raid, something that hailed his name in the spotlight for quite some time, but it was for naught because a friend of his had died. Those who had been close to his fallen friend were forced to take the rest of the day off and get okayed by the agency’s psychiatrist before resuming duty. It wasn’t something Bakugou wanted to follow; after all, crime didn’t take a day off, but he had no choice (he had been threatened with more days off, and stupid Deku had pulled him away before a real scene could emerge).

But he felt weird in this get up, the suit just felt strange on his body, too nice, too formal for the lifestyle he held. Why it was inappropriate to show up to a funeral in your hero attire was beyond him. As it was midday, Bakugou had hoped that he wouldn’t have to see anyone on the train back to his province, but to his dismay, even with the classical music blasting in his ears, he heard someone yelling. 

He turned his head slightly and paused when he saw you running towards him with a bunch of paper in your arms, your face sweaty from what he assumed was exhaustion.

“You’re looking handsome!” you chirped, sighing heavily when you stumbled to his side, your cheeks pinched into a genuine smile. “Why you all dressed up for?”

“A funeral,” was Bakugou’s dry response, and your smile quickly fell off your face, a flustered and mortified look replaced the smile, and if it had been any other situation, Bakugou would have barked in laughter.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry!” you awkwardly state, your condolences heavy on your face and quickly emitting from your tongue while you bowed in your embarrassment. “I didn’t remember that Slingshots’ funeral was today.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened at the name, his head nodding with a stiff shoulder, “Not a big deal, he’s been gone for a few days now.”

Your eyebrows knit together, your eyes looking at him concernedly before you shook your head, “Doesn’t really matter, it’s still the death of a friend of yours.”

Bakugou shrugged again, his hands moving out to grab half the stack of papers in your hands and holding them for you. He always remembered his dumb nerd friends telling him that it was a kind act to do for people you liked, Kirishima always raved about how it worked for him at least.

“Well, um… Kirishima told me that you moved into the building across from mine! How crazy is that?!” Bakugou knew immediately that you were changing the subject for him, something he truly and deeply appreciated because he was not ready to talk about his feelings about Slingshot - well, at least not in public. Damn paparazzi always seemed to catch his most embarrassing moments.

“Kirishima’s telling you that shit about me?”

“Oh yeah, Kirishima loves to gossip all about your life,” you state matter of factly, your head tilting with a wink. “I know all your dirty little secrets Bakugou Katsuki! We have a class group chat where Kirishima and Midoriya spill all their knowledge on you.”

Bakugou wasn’t precisely sure how false that statement was; all things considered, he knew those damn idiots would do something like that should the old class actually want information on him. Sighing, he nodded towards the train that pulled up to the station, and the two of you climbed on, taking the first two available seats together.

“What’s my biggest secret, then?” Bakugou decided to play along, his head resting on the train window, his eyes falling onto your softly smiling form with shielded amusement.

A shit-eating grin grew magnificently against your face, and Bakugou almost regretted asking because you leaned in close, your lips whispering to his ear despite the empty train cart, and uttered something that sent horrified dread through his veins. 

“You’re one of three owners of the super exclusive and rare All Might Bronze Age trading card.”

“HOW THE FUCK DID YOU KNOW THAT?!”

“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE!!!”

Embarrassment blazed on Bakugous face while you continued to laugh, your hands holding your papers flat against your body while you shrieked for air. He rolled his eyes despite it all and just stared at your snorting form since you failed to recompose yourself at what was your lying attempt to disillusion him and worked. 

It had been seven months since Mina’s birthday, and since that fateful day, his feelings for you had only grown more extensive and more real. He could never admit it to anyone, but he texted you nearly every day - the days where there was no communication would often come from your end of the conversation or because one of you had an extremely exhaustive day at work. 

He watched how the soft winter sun shone through the clouds, piercing through the window to brighten the color of your eyes, making them look even warmer and more delicate in his opinion. How he was never interested in you during high school was beyond him. You were - on a personality level - identical to when you were in high school, he had confirmed that suspicion of his with Mina, who had been appalled on your behalf that he hadn’t noticed you before. It was times like now that he regretted it, he wondered if he would have felt the same way as he did right now back then. 

He hadn’t exactly changed much at all either, so he figured he would have liked you back then too.

You were witty, sweet, kind, but no pushover. You had helped to ease his worries and anxieties in a single night, where professionals failed to do so in years. It made no sense to him why it was this way, but as you asked to listen along to the music he played, he slipped off one earbud and handed it to you with sweaty fingers. 

You graciously accepted it with a broad and exciting grin while placing it into your ear, your amused groan making his heart flutter with warmth while you complained about his old folk music selection.

“I still don’t peg you as a Beethoven guy!” you exclaimed, your head swaying in time with Symphony No. 9. “I thought you were a Led Zepplin sorta man.”

“That shits bad for your brain, you have to keep your entire body healthy or you might as well die off like some shitty extra.”

“You really think you’re some main character in this world, don’t you?” you ask, your smile teasing and your eyes so warm and smooth Bakugou felt his heart stop with just your stare. He licked his lips, his mouth feeling dry, and his hands that usually never stopped sweating felt dry when he placed them on his lap. 

“I’m the main fucking character,” he corrected with a smug smirk. “Don’t you dare fucking forget it.”

He would never say it, but his favorite sound and sight in the world became this moment right now, the hardworking city fading in the background and even his music fading into nothing while your hands pressed to your mouth, and a charming giggle escaped your mouth. 

“I won’t.”

He won’t admit it, but when you hugged him later that day as a means of goodbye, it took every ounce of self-restraint to keep himself from tilting you backward and kissing the lights out of you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Bakugou was in trouble.

It wasn’t anything that warranted immediate concern or any type of life-ending trouble (although his heart was hammering so fast he thought it could be life-ending), but he was in trouble. 

His hands were clenched together, and his head was down while he listened to Jirou and Mina screaming some sort of punk-pop duet that was in English together. It had been over a year since the train incident, a year for Bakugou to shift through his feelings for you and what they meant and if they were meant to be pursued. It was weird for him to have waited this long to begin with. He was a man of acting quickly and thinking later, a fatal flaw of his if he would, but you were so different to him - a situation where he couldn’t behave like some hot head or else he would regret it.

Today was Kirishima’s twentieth birthday, and he had wanted a simple stay in party with everyone, a shit ton of alcohol, and a karaoke machine. It was to no surprise that it was a party that the entire class 1-A ended up showing up, each and every one of them ready to have fun with the drinks and karaoke machine. But as he watched you up there doing the stupidest poses (alongside seven others) known to mankind while singing some diva song, something hit him.

His once amused smile melted off instantly when you smiled widely, your head tilting backward into a peal of laughter when Aoyama knocked you straight into Hagakure and Mina. 

He was in love with you.

He was in fucking love with you.

That was a problem! That was not okay!

He had gotten up from the crowded bedroom (something you had insisted they perform in to really push that karaoke room feeling). He walked into the living room, a harsh comment about how he needed some fresh fucking air being thrown behind him while he slammed the door shut. No one questioned him, and the party continued. 

A part of him was relieved that neither Kirishima nor Deku followed after him, he didn’t really wish to be a damper to the party even though he sure he was one right now. But what he didn’t expect was for your body to slip out of the bedroom door, beads of sweat rolling down your face while you met his gaze.

You smiled broadly, walking over with a wave before flopping onto the couch.

“It was too hot in there, I was sweating like a goddamn pig,” you exasperate, your hands fanning your face for added coolness. 

How Bakugou wished he was that half and half bastard so he could help you cool down.

“I think you’re sweating more than a fucking pig,” Bakugou pipped in, giving his unneeded opinion.

You chuckled, your lightly sweating forearm smacking his side while you chuckled, “Yeah, true. I’m sweating like you right now.”

“You’re an asshole,” Bakugou grunted, his eyes shifting to look at you.

Despite his harsh words, he was looking down at you with no malice in his gaze. Breathing heavily out of your nose, you pushed off the couch and sat on it properly, looking at your best friend with a grin.

“And why are you out here exactly? Kiri wants to sing a song with you, Midoriya, and Todoroki like really badly.”

“Well shitty hair can come ask me to sing a song with him and those idiots if he wants, I’m not going back in that disgusting room until I have to.” Bakugou waves off, his thighs shifting against the soft couch and his arm falling on the sofa behind your head.

“Don’t be a party pooper!” you groaned, your hands shoving his side softly, but your smile remained on your face. “What’s eating you up? Come on, you can tell me anything, ya know!”

Bakugou freezes a bit, those words relaying in his mind like a broken record. 

What would happen if he told you if he was in love with you?

Would you hate him if he did?

He was sure you wouldn’t say it back - that was for sure.

“I won’t say,” he breathes out shakily, the words ‘I’m in love with you’ pounding on every cell of his body.

He loved you. He loved you more than he thought he could ever love anyone.

He wanted to tell you, and the look of utter disappointment in your face only made his stomach twist with guilt and failure that he didn’t tell you. 

“I promise I won’t tease you… I won’t do anything to upset you! You know you can trust me, right?” you plead, your hand taking his sweaty one, and Bakugou flushed at the warm contact. 

He loved you, he loved you, he loved you.

There’s a look of guilt that twists on your face, and you sigh, your head dropping and Bakugou freezes when you begin to shake your head. “Sorry, that’s… that’s rude of me. If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t make you, but if you want to, I promise that I won’t judge.”

Your concerned eyes rose back up to meet his, and Bakugou felt his spine go stiff.

A shaky breath of air expelled past his chapped lips, and Bakugou’s fingers trembled, “I have something to confess…”

Your eyes widened in shock and silent glee that he was going to let you in on his secret, but he wondered if you would look the same after he confessed.

“I’m-”

“Y/n!” a shout interrupted, and Bakugou froze while both of your heads snapped over to see Kirishima pushing out of the door with a bright grin on his face.

“Ei!” you smiled broadly in return, your voice almost breathless at his arrival, your eyes filled with emotions that Bakugou could only dream were directed towards him. Immediately his stomach twisted sickeningly at the sight of his red-headed best friend take three long strides to get to the couch before planting the biggest kiss he had ever seen onto your lips.

Bakugou’s stomach filled with bitter acid at the sight of you and Kirishima passionately kissing despite having him no more than two centimeters away from you. Giggles and the purest sounds of two people in deep, deep love emitted from the both of you, and it took everything in Bakugou not to split his skull in half in raging jealousy.

“I was missing you so much! I looked away, and you were gone!” Kirishima pouted, his tone a low whine, but his mouth continued to press flustering kisses against your mouth until you were gently pushing him away. Embarrassment obvious in your posture because shamelessly making out in front of any audience always left you uncomfortable. 

“I was… checking up on… on Bakugou,” you pathetically moaned against Kirishima’s mouth, your hands helpless against his chest while you attempted to push away your tipsy and loving boyfriend. Kirishima let out an understanding ‘oh’ before pushing away from your lips and collapsing onto the couch next to you. 

Bakugou was silent and frozen as he looked at his feet, his nostrils flaring in his anger and embarrassment because what was he ever thinking?! Confessing to you when you had a boyfriend?!

“How’s Bakubro doing?” Kirishima cheered, his hand slapping against Bakugou’s taut shoulder with a wide grin. “Is he being a good friend?”

“You know he always is,” you laugh, your lips pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “He was about to tell me something, though!”

Bakugou froze when he felt your gaze and Kirishima’s fall on him, and acid shot to his mouth.

You had been dating Kirishima since the start of the third year at UA. It was a relationship he was always and has always been aware of because Kirishima never was secretive about his puppy love crush on you! Still, he knew this and fell for you. You were his best friend’s lover, and he fell in love with you. He could never say he was in love with you, not if he knew what was best for you and Kirishima. 

But even if he wasn’t the sixteen-year-old boy with anger issues from hell, there was a part of him that would always be that, and in a time where he needed to be calm and lie through his teeth, seething anger exploded in his chest.

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

Both you and Kirishima froze, “W-What?”

Bakugou was a good hero because his quirk was powerful. Explosions were powerful, and they were deadly if misused. He wasn’t someone who could use his quirk as a means to save - sure he saved people every day, but he would never aim a blast towards a victim. That would be idiotic. Bakugou knew he wasn’t his quirk. He was explosive and bitter and mean at times, but he believed he was more than that. He was better than that. And for the past three years, he had been working on that part of himself, only for it to fall and collapse in an explosive fury right now.

He was dangerous.

“This entire time, I only gave you a shot because I knew you were seeing Kirishima. You’re fucking annoying though, an airheaded, a coward, and so fucking nosey, I wonder just how Kirishima is still with you! He can do so much fucking better than you, and it’s embarrassing that you can’t even see it!”

“You don’t mean that,” came your soft and utterly broken voice, your face pleading for him to say it was a lie, pleading that this was some joke. 

Tears burned at the back of his eyes but refused to form, and Bakugou wished he could say he was done after that, but the thing about destruction is that there was always more than just one wave. 

“I tried to be your friend, I did, but it was the worst mistake I made. You’re a shit friend, a shit hero, and a shit significant other. You’re not someone I admire or think of as an equal, and I think it’s best if you just left me the fuck alone.”

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh humorlessly, your eyes stone hard and staring daggers into Bakugou’s skull, but to his own horror, a steely laugh escapes his lips he shrugs.

“I’ve been called worse.”

You stood up, storming away from the loud room and slamming the door so loudly behind you it rattled the walls.

“What the hell was that, Bakugou?!” Kirishima gasped, his eyes wide in a fury and hurt, the once tipsy glaze to his eyes gone and only full of sober anger and disbelief. “That was the unmanliest shit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth?! The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Fuck off, go take care of the fucking crybaby,” Bakugou heaved, the tears burning even more as he folded his arms, his gaze focused on his feet once again.

“Did you know that y/n used to fucking like you?! All three years in high school y/n had the biggest fucking crush on you, and even when we got together… I knew those feelings still existed…” curling acid shot up his throat at the critical information. You had liked him? “For three years y/n tried to be your friend, and it didn’t work until the very end and you just… why did you do that?! You’re a fucking dick, Bakugou.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not when Kirishima pushed off the couch, his footsteps shockingly sober as he moved to chase after you. But the moment that Kirishima was out of sight and the karaoke room began to play the Disney classic, I won’t say I’m in love, something twisted in his soul and tears pushed through his eyes.

He loved you so fucking much, but as he always seemed to, he had destroyed every good thing in his life because of his attitude.

You were Kirishima’s, and it only really hit him now… how could you ever forgive him?

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou angst #bnha #bnha x reader

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Welcome To The Family (5/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / here

Had no idea how to connect with Aizawa. Hopefully, this works. Sorry about my hyperfixation on this. 

Warnings- some swearing

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

I get ready for yet another day of babysitting Eri. Thinking back on the festival yesterday, the uncomfortable feeling between the two men is something I’d rather not experience again if possible. They’re together as well, so why did Hizashi put me between them? I could have sat on the other side of him if he wanted me beside him so bad. Don’t think Aizawa was too happy about it either with the narrow look he gave me, now that I think about it. It’s best to try to avoid those situations in the future.

While in my mind, I didn’t notice my friend in front of me and bumped into them. Ryo doesn’t look too good. They have bigger eyebags than I’ve ever seen and are frowning with their arms crossed. “Glad to catch you. I stayed up all night waiting for you.”

“Ryo, whatever it is, you could have just texted or called me.”

They frown deeper. “I’ve been trying to stay happy for you, I really have. I and a few of the others really miss you hanging out with us. We’ll even blast your favorite song the whole day and night. Just… Please join us for a whole day once again.”

I knew what they were getting at. Damn it, guilt is really starting to rise in me. I desperately want to hang out with them, but that stupid dinner I’m pretty much forced to go to this Sunday… Ugh, why couldn’t they wait until next Sunday!? “I’m sorry, Ryo, but they want me to babysit the kids again this Sunday. I told them I’m not available next Sunday though! We can hang out then!”

Their frown goes deeper than ever seen by me. “Come on, Y/N! We haven’t had a day to hang out properly in like, what? Months? Every time you return you’re too tired to join us. Those damn kids can go ONE. DAY. without you taking care of them. Don’t you think you’ve done enough for them yet!? The only day we had was Sunday, but for the last few you’ve been stuck with them AGAIN. For how much you take care of them, the adults shouldn’t even HAVE them!”

I nearly snapped at them for the last thing they said. They seem angry though, so I try to not let it get to me too much, or it could end badly for both of us.

It’s easy to tell they all care for each other, and taking one of them away from their little family would be greatly unethical. What also holds me back is remembering Ryo doesn’t know the story of the kids, or that the adults are heroes and teachers. Man, I wish I could tell them. Surprised they haven’t made the connection themselves yet of at least figuring out they’re teachers. “Their jobs are highly demanding. Trust me, they’d much rather be with their kids if they could. I’ve seen how they act towards them.”

“That doesn’t mean shit. For all you know, it could just be a front!”

I shake my head. “Don’t think so. Pretty sure one of them would be incredibly bad at acting.”

They glare at me. “Whatever you think.” They then storm off, leaving more guilt to eat away at me. Ugh, I feel like crying out of frustration.

The mold-quirked male comes up to me when Ryo leaves. “Sorry about them. They’re kinda in a bad spot with the police right now. They got a little too drunk and spat at an officer yesterday.”

“Again? I thought they learned their lesson last time from me scolding them.”

“Sadly, no. I think they’re losing control since their impulse control is gone.”

Now I’m more annoyed than guilt-ridden. Ryo is a few years older than me. They shouldn’t be such a child about it and need my help when they decide to drink too much. “Thanks for informing me, uh… sorry, I don’t think you ever told me your name.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Right! Just call me by my first name, Tadao.”

First name basis off the bat is a little weird, but he says it, so sure. “Right! Tadao, Can you keep an eye on them for me still? I’m still rather busy as you might have noticed.”

He nods. “I can do that. Just do me a favor, and try to take it easy for yourself one of these days. You seem a little worn out yourself recently.”

I shrug. “It’s more of what’s happened lately, and what’s on my mind I think.”

He seems unsure about my answer if anything about his dark brown eyes is to go by. He just nods again though and goes to follow Ryo.

I push what just happened to the back of my mind and head towards their home again. After the Ferris Wheel yesterday, Hizashi gave me a key and told me to use it to enter their house from now on since they might be too busy to answer the door. They haven’t had trouble answering the door before, but I’ve learned by now to not question Hizashi’s sporadic way of mind. It doesn’t ease the discomfort that I feel like I’m intruding by randomly entering their house though.

I unlock the door and enter to see a rather concerned Eri hugging the new stuffed animal with the dog and the bunny. “Hey, Eri. What’s wrong?”

It looks like she’s torn from being happy to see me, to having great worry. “Dad’s sick.”

Aizawa’s sick? He was just fine yesterday. I think she calls Aizawa “dad” and Hizashi “daddy” if I’ve noticed correctly. Sometimes it’s really confusing having same-sex parents and trying to know which they’re referring to. “Is Aizawa okay?” I ask, just to be sure it’s the right one.

She nods.

Hitoshi comes into the living room. “He’ll be fine. It was a quirked villain from the ambush yesterday. It’s not contagious, but he’s not allowed to go to the school for twenty-four hours. The principal said he’d have the other teachers kick him out if he enters the school. Even Recovery Girl and no one wants to deal with her wrath.”

“Recovery… Girl?”

He looks like he wants to slap himself. “Right. Uh… She’s the healer after our fights basically.”

“The name makes sense then.”

He nods. “In his shape, he can’t take care of Eri though, so we didn’t tell you to not come.”

“Sounds good,” I smirk, though internally I’m cringing at the thought of being alone with the quiet man. “So, you guys want me to check in on him a few times today as well I’m guessing?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “If you wouldn’t mind, that is. It’s obviously not something you’re hired for.”

I shrug. “It should be fine. I don’t think he’ll be very demanding of me doing things for him if I know him well enough by now.”

Hitoshi smirks in reply to me. “He’s too stubborn to even take cough medicine.”

“I didn’t expect anything different.” Seems rather childish though for a full-grown man. Not like I’d ever say that to his face though.

Hizashi comes out of what must be their bedroom and sees me. “Heya, little lovesong! Did these two fill ya in already?”

Love… song? What’s with the sudden nickname? He always seems to call people “listeners” or whatever, so maybe it’s just a more friendly type of thing?

He also makes his arms go outstretched and looks at me expectantly. He wants me to hug him? Again, this is really sudden.

Screw it, it won’t hurt anything, right? It’s just a hug. I hug him.

He squeezes a little too tightly and wouldn’t let me go for an almost awkward amount of time, even when I try to pull away.

I pat his back to try to get him to let go. “That’s long enough I think. You might want to go before you and Hitoshi are late for school.”

He lets go. “Right! C’mon, little Hypno-man!”

“Little? I’m almost as tall as you.”

“But you’re not yet!” He shouts as he bolts out the door. Hitoshi quickly goes after him. It just leaves a silence between Eri and me. I shake my head at their antics and look at Eri. “Do you think they even left him a glass of water or something before taking off?”

“Daddy gave him water before. A long time ago.”

A long time ago probably means a few hours at most. I sigh. Better check on him then. I go towards the door of their bedroom and knock on it. He doesn’t answer. Oh well, he must not need anything that badly. No, I’m not just trying to stay away from him as much as possible.

I go to walk away, but Eri gently grabs my hand and leads me back to the bedroom door.

“Why do you keep staying away from dad?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to play dumb. She doesn’t need to know about adult things yet, such as not everyone will like someone. That should be their job to teach her. “Toshi and daddy notice you avoid him. He’s not mean though!”

Do I really have to tell her? Her questioning eyes are begging me to answer.

“It’s just… I don’t think your dad likes me very much. There will always be people who don’t like a person for one reason or another. I don’t know why your dad doesn’t like me, but I respect his decision and want to let him keep his space.”

“But dad doesn’t hate you!” She huffs.

That's a surprise to me. “Unless he tells me otherwise, I’m going to keep believing he does. And honestly, your dad kinda scares me.”

She looks away. “He can be kinda mean sometimes,” she looks back at me. “But he really cares for people!”

A part of me doubts it, but another part can kind of see it, especially with how he acts with Eri and Hitoshi.

I decided to try changing the topic. “I’ll check him in a bit. He probably doesn’t want to be bothered right now. Let’s go play with your stuffed animals for now.” I try to walk away again.

Yet again, she grabs my hand and drags me to the door. She opens it without knocking and makes me enter as well. I noticed the rather large bed before anything. It couldn’t have been a king. Definitely something bigger than that. It has a light red and black blanket covering the whole bed, including the paler-than-usual man under it. His eyes are open and looking at us, but surprisingly, he’s not glaring. I thought he would be from an interrupted entry…

I notice the empty glass on the nightstand next to him. “I’ll get you more water.” I then grab the glass and go to the kitchen. Eri stayed in the bedroom. While filling the glass, one of the cats rubs their head against my leg. The white eyebrows make me know who it is instantly. “Hey, Oreo! Why don’t you come to help your dad?” I ask him and shut off the sink after the glass is nearly full.

I pick him up with my free arm and carry them back into the bedroom. He immediately jumps out of my arms and goes onto the bed. Aizawa almost seems to grow a weak smile at the sight of the cat. I set the glass down back on the nightstand.

“Thanks.” He rasps, catching my surprise. I really wasn’t expecting him to thank me for it. He didn’t strike me as the type. He drinks some of it.

It’s quiet between us, and I want to do nothing but leave him be before the awkwardness gets worse. Plus, he needs all the rest he can get to heal faster. Or is the quirk he was struck with a time-based thing regardless?

Eri suddenly gets up from sitting on the floor and tugs me so she could whisper in my ear. “Talk to him!”

“I don’t think he…” I lock eyes with Aizawa who is surprisingly still not asleep and sigh. I have no idea what to talk to him about. What do you talk about to someone who has hardly ever said a word to you?

I then remember the explosive kid and nearly being hit. It’s worth a shot bringing him up I guess. “Had a close call with one of your students yesterday. Don’t know his name, but he nearly blew up my face if Midoriya wasn’t there.”

Despite his state, his eyes widen a sufficient amount.

“Toshi isn’t happy with him.” Eri pipes up with her arms crossed.

“No harm was done though, right? At least he didn’t hit me,” I shiver remembering his expression. “I’d rather not be in the line of his wrath again though. It’s terrifying to the point I almost feel bad for anything he goes against.”

“Bakugou.” He’s able to hiss it with annoyance. Okay, glad he doesn’t seem annoyed with me the same way he is with that kid.

Bakugou? Isn’t that one of the kids Midoriya told me causes the most problems in his class? “So he must be one of the kids you like to call “problem children”. Midoriya told me you call him that as well. Don’t know how he’s one, but I know if you call him that, you have a really good reason, so I’m not going to comment on it.”

“You seem rather… connected with Midoriya.” He says “connected” like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“Oh yeah! He’s a good kid. He comes around frequently with Togata,” His eyes narrow and my fond mention of Togata. He better not be getting the wrong idea, I don’t see either of them that way for obvious reasons. “It’s so great they’re able to wear dresses so comfortably. Well, Midoriya is still a bit uncomfortable, but we’ve been working on his self-esteem with Togata. I also still have to thank him for saving me from the Bakugou kid. I don’t think that could be fixed with him though from the feral energy he gives off.”

“Still have to-” he coughs. “Work on that then. He won’t be able to get anywhere if he keeps nearly injuring innocents.”

I smile at him. “I wish you the most luck with him then. You’re definitely going to need it.”

He replies with a slight nod and closes his eyes. Oreo climbs onto Aizawa’s chest and starts purring. He brings one of his arms out of the covers and pets Oreo. The cat’s purring gets louder in appreciation.

Eri lights up. “I’ll go get Mochi and Sundae!” She bolts out of the room. No! Come ba- and she’s gone.

For one stupid reason or another, I feel like confiding with him right now.

“You know, I hate to admit it, but I’m rather envious of you,” He quirks an eye open to look at me. “You have such a lovely family and a significant other that greatly cares about you. I can only hope to have a relationship like you and Hizashi in the future. It’s going to be so strange when I leave your family.”

His other eye opens to fully look at me. His eyes flash some sort of emotion I can’t read. Maybe I overstepped a boundary or said too much about myself? Shit…

“Uh… Sorry about that, Aizawa. That’s probably something stupid to go off about or to bother you with...”

“Shouta.”

“Huh?” I question, just to be sure I was correct in hearing him.

“Shouta. It’s-” he coughs again. “illogical for me to be the only one not called by my first name,” He looks at Oreo, then back at me. “You’re a part of our family. Even Oreo likes you. Sometimes not even I can pick him up.”

“A part of?... No, you’re thinking too much into it. I’m just a sitter that likes taking care of Hitoshi and Eri.”

He slightly shakes his head. “Same thing with Hitoshi. He’s never let anyone but us call him his first name. You’re different.”

I’m having a hard time accepting I’m special in any way. They must just be slightly delusional or something from having multiple bad sitters before. “I’m sure if you got a sitter similar to me, he’d have done the same thing with them.”

“Doubtful. For one, you’re the first that’s not us to not fear Hitoshi for his-” he coughs yet again. “quirk.”

Maybe I should make him stop talking so he can rest before more damage can possibly be done to his throat.

“I found Mochi!” Eri yells from somewhere outside of the room. She enters the bedroom, waddling like she did before with Mochi in her arms. He’s nearly being dragged on the floor, but only seems uninterested in helping her move. She seems to be having a slightly easier time than before carrying him. Not sure if he’s lost some weight, or if she’s gotten stronger. Maybe even both.

I laugh and go over to her to help her carry him. He’s still rather heavy. Heavy enough to cause a rather large dip in the bed when we place him on it. We place him down by Shouta’s feet. He doesn’t even move. Just flops onto his belly where he’s placed. I go over back by Shouta’s side, since that’s closer to the exit of the bedroom. I still feel like I’m intruding in their bedroom.

She immediately takes off again out of the room.

“Eri! I don’t think-” I’m interrupted by Shouta gently grabbing my hand. His hand is rather rough- probably calloused- and rather clammy. Most likely from him being ill. Uh… This is weird.

“It’s fine. The cats are a good distraction,” He lets it go before I can try to pull away. “That’s another thing. Even Eri bonded with you rather quickly. I’ve never seen her so happy to see someone besides us or Midoriya and Togata.”

I shrug. “It’s the previous sitters’ faults for not caring for her. She’s beyond adorable, and I honestly had the thought if something were to happen to her, I’d kill everyone in the room, then myself on my first day.”

He exhales his breath, almost like a chuckle. “Zashi says the same about you.”

I have no idea what to say to that. Oh! He must mean Hizashi would do the same thing for Eri, his mind is just mixed up on his words from his illness. Sounds a lot more logical than someone admitting they really like an adult they just met back then.

Eri comes in with the last and final cat, Sundae. He seems a little more uninterested in being in here than the other two. At least until Eri places him on the bed, and he sees the other two. He jumps onto Shouta’s stomach and tries to push Oreo off to take his spot on Shouta’s chest.

I can’t help but laugh. “You need a little help there?”

He grows the tiniest smile again. “No.” He pulls out his other arm from under the blanket and uses it to pet the other cat as well. That seems to do the trick as he stops trying to push Oreo off.

He coughs yet again. I feel rather bad he has to deal with it. “Would you like some tea maybe? It’s not cough medicine, but it might help your cough a bit more than the water is.”

He turns his head back towards us. His eyes again showing that unreadable emotion. “That's another thing. You’re caring. You’ve respected us the most. You didn’t even try pushing me to tolerate your presence, just accepted it.” Okay, that’s enough talking from you, you need to rest more. I swear, if he’s the type that suddenly has the urge to clean the house when sick… I’d do absolutely nothing. I obviously can’t do much against a man with years of grueling training, even when he’s sick. Might have Eri help me scold him though.

“I’ll get the tea. And do us both a favor, stop talking for now. It’s honestly great hearing you talk more for once, but now is really not the best time.”

“No promises.”

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

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, other than checking up on him a few other times. With how frequently he talked, I started to wonder if he and Hizashi somehow swapped minds. He must be one of those odd people who seem to be more talkative when sick, as clearly found out.

Leaving their house, my body freezes at the familiar feeling of being watched. For a moment, I wonder about going back into their house and asking them to bring me to my home. No, I can’t do that to them. They've already had a long day.

… At least, that’s how I felt at first. But the farther I walked, the more I wished I did. Fuck, the feeling won’t. Leave. Taking out my phone, Hitoshi is the first one to come up in my contacts.

“Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you around here. Heading home, huh?” Asked a familiar voice behind me. That feeling was still around, but just knowing Tadao was with me helped. I turn to face him. His hair was… Glowing green? It made him look like a glowstick, and made me wonder how I’ve never seen his hair do this before. Never met him in the dark though.

He laughs at my expression. “Mold isn’t the only thing my body can absorb. It can also do the same with fungus. Found out years ago I can make my hair glow from the bioluminescent fungus. Cool, huh?”

I smile at him. “Definitely! But you know I now have to call you glowstick, right?”

He groans. “Man, was really hoping to escape that, but I guess it’s deserved, huh?”

“It really is your fault if you don’t naturally have it.”

Because of his glowing hair, it was easy to tell he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, wanna walk with me back to the apartments? Just got off of work myself today.”

“Well, it would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

“Yep.”

We start walking.

“How’s Ryo holding up?”

He sighs. “Not well. Really starting to question their mental state. They told me this morning they don’t even want to talk to you for a few days.”

My face quickly becomes a frown. “Seriously? They’re going to act like this now?”

He shrugs. “Try not to let it get to you. We both know they can be overdramatic at times.”

I sigh. “I hate that you’re right.”

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Tag list-

@angelicblackwolf 

here ya go. hopefully it works!

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead