#and the teacher said i should send them somewhere cause they were all very good

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 1: Adopted

AO3 @maribat-bdbwm

Adopted. Adopted. Adopted. Adopted. The word runs on a loop through Marinette’s head as her world crumbles around her. She was adopted.

“What? Maman, I don’t, I don’t understand.” Marinette says, her voice cracking as she tries to act like this isn’t bothering her. Like she doesn’t feel as though her entire world is changing.

“Marinette, sweetheart, just take a breath. That’s it, breathe in...and out. Very good.” Her maman says, holding her hands as she breathes with her slowly. Marinette swallows thickly, trying hard to ignore the way her hands shake in her maman’s.

“Maman, why didn’t you tell me?” She asks, confusion and self doubt swirling in her mind. Why was she adopted? Did her birth parents not want her? Could they not take care of her? Was she a mistake? Did they hate her? Did her maman hate her now? Is that why she’s telling her? Is she going to be kicked out? Is she going to have to leave Paris? What if-

“Marinette?” Her maman’s soft voice pulls her out of her thoughts. Marinette frowns when she realizes that she has tears running down her face.

“I-I’m sorry.” She says, pulling her hands away to furiously wipe at her tears, trying hard to ignore the sympathetic look her papa keeps giving her.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Marinette. Are you feeling up to an explanation? Or would you rather not talk about this?” She asks, her face covered in worry.

“I wanna talk about it.” Marinette says quickly, before slapping her hands over her mouth. She didn’t mean to say that. What if that’s not right? What if what her maman has to say is just going to hurt more? What if-

“Okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry we waited so long to tell you.” Her maman apologizes, scooting closer to wrap an arm around Marinette’s shoulders. Her papa wraps an arm around both of them, his presence calming Marinette enough so that she can think a little more clearly.

“Why did you wait? Why now?” She asks, still confused why she decided to break the news today of all days.

“We were going to wait until you were sixteen. Let you be at an age where you would understand it a little more, understand that being adopted isn’t wrong. And that you didn’t do anything wrong.” She explains, rubbing her shoulder gently.

“But then, why now?” Marinette asks, frustration starting to build. Why say they were going to wait and then not actually wait? Why would they-

“Mme. Mendeleiev called. You’re starting a unit on genetics and biology, and she knew that you were adopted. She just-” She sighs, frowning. “She didn’t want you to be blind sided or caught off guard in class if things didn’t add up.”

“But why does she know?” Marinette asks with a frown.

“Because we were both friends with your birth mother.”

--- Walking into class, Marinette tries hard to avoid the worried glance from Mme. Mendeleiev. All of the information from yesterday swirling through her head; her maman was friends with Mme. Mendeleiev. They were both friends with her birth mother, Bridgette Le. Her birth mother didn’t just give her up, she did want her, her maman had reassured her repeatedly. But she had died. And Marinette had almost died as well. And her parents? Didn’t hate her now. They didn’t love her any less, they reassured her of that several times before Marinette asked to be excused to go to bed. Tikki had had to watch for akumas most of the night. Breathing shakily, Marinette sits and immediately starts doodling on her notebook, hoping that no one else will put two and two together once their genetics unit starts. Hoping that no one will know or ask her. About adoption. --- It was two weeks after Marinette found out that she was adopted that she decided to talk to her maman about it again. After ranting to Tikki for several nights and spending time thinking about it, she had slowly started to accept it. It didn’t mean her parents loved her any less. It didn’t mean that she was any different or anything. It just meant that she had two more parents. A birth mother who had apparently wanted what was best for her, naming Sabine Cheng as her godmother even before Marinette was born. And a birth father. A man that Marinette was determined to talk to her maman about. Surely the woman would know something about him, given her close friendship with her birth mother.

“Hey Maman.” Marinette says, walking into the kitchen and sitting at the counter. Her maman smiles brightly at her as she continues to fill the dumplings.

“Hello sweetheart. How’s your commission for Jagged going?” She asks, her face filled with pride. Marinette grins and nods.

“It’s amazing. The shape of the suit is much different than anything else I’ve made before, but I think it’s going to look really cool!” Marinette says, a wide smile on her face before she remembers the whole reason she came into the kitchen. She clears her throat. “Maman, could I ask you something?”

“Of course Marinette.” She says, closing and filling dumplings before placing them in the steamer.

“When we talked about my...adoption. You didn’t say anything about my birth father. Did you know him too?” Marinette asks, staring down the counter to avoid looking at her maman.

“I didn’t know him very well, I’ll be honest. Bridgette met him when she went to the US for a year. I’m not sure what happened, but she did write a letter for him. I have it in the lock box though, she didn’t put an address on it and I wasn’t sure where to send it.” She explains and Marinette frowns at the lack of information.

“Does he- did he even know about me?” She asks.

“I’m not sure. Bridgette didn’t talk about him much. All she really said was that the town wasn’t fond of her and she didn’t want you to grow up in that environment, said it was terribly dreary. And that he was obsessed with his work. He worked for some big company, but I’m not sure if he still does. ” Her maman adds and Marinette nods.

“Is that all?” She asks, trying not to show her disappointment.

“Let me grab the letter. I can’t remember his name, but it should be in there.” She says, turning and washing her hands before walking away to get the letter. Marinette lets out a long breath, hoping that she isn’t making a mistake by looking for this information. --- Bruce Wayne. That was apparently the name of her birth father who lived somewhere in the US. Her maman was right about that. The letter didn’t have an address and Bridgette hadn’t put anything specific about the location. Besides her birth father’s name, the letter was a dead end. How generic could a name be? Bruce Wayne. It was like finding out her father’s name was Thomas Williams or John Smith or something. There must be thousands of Bruce Waynes in the US. Walking into Mme. Bustier’s class, Marinette trudges to her desk in the very back and drops down into her seat. Dropping her head onto her desk, she barely notices Adrien walk in.

“You okay, Mari?” He asks, frowning as he takes the seat next to her.

“I got a name.” She mumbles into the desk, knowing the boy would understand. She turns her head so that she can glance at him, frowning at the wide smile that takes over his face.

“Really? That’s great!” He says and she huffs.

“Not really. It was the most generic name ever, and the letter that Bridgette wrote didn’t have a location or anything.”

“Why do you want to talk to him so badly?” Adrien asks and Marinette sits up, frowning.

“I don’t know, I just-” She sighs. “I guess I just want the chance to meet him. Maman’s told me so many stories of Bridgette since I found out, and I’ve loved getting to know little things that we have in common. I just want to know if I have anything in common with him.”

“If you really want to meet him, I’ll do everything I can to help you find him.” Adrien says. Marinette looks at him, relief and gratitude coating her face.

“Really? You’d do that for me?” She asks, hope and faith that this could actually work rushing over her. Adrien nods, gifting her a small smile.

“Of course, Mari.” He says. Marinette opens her mouth to thank him again, when Mme. Bustier barges into the classroom.

“Students! Listen up, I have an amazing announcement!” She cheers, clapping her hands together. Marinette looks at the woman wearily, unsure of what the woman could be so excited about. She’d had a meeting with the woman earlier to talk about the end of year trip. They hadn’t talked about much, just the budget and trips that they could feasibly do. Marinette had also shot down some of the woman’s….less than ideal options. Seriously, who thought a trip to Gotham was a good idea? Even Marinette, with her lack of knowledge about the world’s big names and celebrities, knew that Gotham wasn’t a great place. It was quite literally crawling with villains, and unlike Paris, there was no Miraculous Cure to fix everything. Marinette blinked as the class suddenly erupted with cheers.

“What happened?” She asks Adrien, zoning back into the situation around her.

“We’re apparently going to Gotham for our end of year trip.” Adrien mutters, clearly not thrilled with the turn of events. Marinette nods, then freezes as the words register. Well shit. --- Marinette huffs as she rushes into the empty hotel lobby. Key word: empty. Well, okay it wasn’t completely empty, but it definitely didn’t have the entire class (and teacher!) that it was supposed to have. Instead it just had a tired looking concierge and a bowl of bruised apples. Fantastic. Grumbling under her breath, Marinette pulls out the itinerary that she had been forced to create for this trip she was forced to be on. She wasn’t trying to be dramatic, but between Hawkmoth and all of her responsibilities as Ladybug, going to a city like Gotham was the last thing that she wanted to do. Its villains, or Rogues as they preferred to be called, seemed to have no fear. At least Hawkmoth was smart enough to hide behind his goons. Gotham’s rogues had no such qualm, and instead ran around to personally cause mayhem. Glancing down at the itinerary, Marinette suppresses a groan. The entire class left early. Of course they did. Whatever, she still had plenty of time to get to their scheduled tour time at the Gotham City Museum of Modern Art. It had been Alix’ suggestion, as the girl’s father was friends with someone who had helped in its most recent street art exhibit.

“Marinette!” A small voice yells. Marinette glances down at her purse and raises an eyebrow at the concerned look on her kwami’s face.

“What?” She whispers back.

“You’re not really going to walk by yourself in Gotham, are you?” Tikki asks, her eyes wide with concern.

“I’ll be fine, Tikki. And I plan on getting a cab.” Marinette says, giving her purse a reassuring pat before walking out into the dreary mist outside. Hailing a cab with surprising ease, Marinette tells the driver her destination and sits back, watching the gargoyles and architecture stream past. She’d have to sketch something later, because a million ideas for a Gotham inspired line was floating through her head. When the cab stops, Marinette smiles and thanks the man, handing him the fare and a tip.

“No problem, Miss Wayne.” The driver says, tipping his cap before zipping away from the museum. Miss Wayne? As in her father? Marinette shakes that thought away almost as quickly as it appears. What are the odds that she’d be in the same city as her birth father? Must’ve mistaken me with someone else, Marinette thought to herself, almost as if she was reassuring herself that there was no chance of seeing her birth father. No chance of someone seeing her and saying, “oh, are you Bruce’s girl? You sure do have his nose”. No chance of the man himself running into her and seeing a perfect blend of himself and Bridgette and- No. No need to panic about this right now. Pushing the thoughts away, Marinette rushes into the museum and nearly runs over Adrien.

“Mari! Are you okay? Where were you? I didn’t see you in the lobby so I got on the bus to look for you and you weren’t there and then I tried to get off to find you and-” Marinette cuts Adrien’s rambling off with a tight hug to reassure him that she’s there. She’s there and she’s safe.

“I’m okay, I promise. I got a cab surprisingly easily.” Marinette reassures him, mumbling into his chest. He freezes momentarily before returning the tight hug.

“Marinette! Now that you’re here we can start the tour. The tour guide suggested we start in the Comedians Hall of Fame and then loop around and end at the new graffiti display.” Mme. Bustier announces, clapping her hands excitedly. Marinette pulls away from Adrien, blushing slightly as he squeezes her once more before fully letting her go. Wandering through the Comedians Hall of Fame, Marinette’s eyes dance over the exhibits. She wasn’t necessarily passionate or inspired by this section of the museum, but it was still interesting. A big bang made Marinette spin around and frantically look for the exits. The uncontrollable laughter started seconds later. Shit.

“Welcome, welcome to MY hall! Except someone apparently forgot my picture. No worries though, I’m sure we can add one with all of your smiling faces in it as well.” A voice echoes in the hall. Marinette’s blood instantly freezes. The Joker. In a room. With her class. Oh my God, someone is going to die.

“What’re you doing?” Adrien hisses out. Marinette blinks and realizes she had unconciously taken a fighting pose. She was so used to protecting the class as Ladybug against Akumas, she just immediately fell back into the role. She straightens immediately, but it’s too late.

“Ah, a brave little girl. Who do we have here?” Joker asks, and the sickening realization that he’s holding a gun washes over her. There would be no Miraculous Cure. No Lucky Charm. Marinette grits her teeth and stares at the man’s yellow teeth stretched into an unnatural smile.

“Marinette.” She says, leaving out her last name. No need for her parents to panic because her name is trending at the site of a villain attack. Assuming nothing goes wrong and the heroes show up and she doesn’t die by the hands of the Joker. Not that that would be traumatic, or anything.

“What, no last name? Or did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?” Joker asks, pushing her hair out of her face with his gun. Marinette sees Adrien’s fists clench out of the corner of her eye, a wave of determination running through her. She needed to keep Joker distracted so that he wouldn’t notice Adrien and try to hurt Adrien. Since obviously, as an Agreste, he was a much better hostage than the daughter of bakers. Well, and the biological daughter of some random American man who doesn’t even know she exists.

“It’s Cheng.” She retorts, dropping her father’s last name off in a desperate attempt for her full name to stay off the internet.

“Is it? Are you sure? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re a new Wayne. Much smaller than the others, and a girl is different, but maybe Brucie’s just changing his type.” Joker taunts and Marinette’s head spins. Wayne? It can’t possibly be her birth father...Wayne must be a much more common name in the US than she originally thought and maybe even though she hadn’t even thought about contacting him yet or trying to find him, maybe it would be much harder than she could’ve ever thought because it’s such a common name and he probably has no idea that she wants to even try and find him and there’s probably no chance that he even wants to meet her and-

“Are you even listening to me?” Joker’s annoyed voice cuts off her internal spiral. Marinette quirks up an eyebrow and shakes her head.

“No, not really.” She says, eyes widening and face instantly turning red as she realizes that this was not the kind of villain she could smartmouth like she did Akumas as Ladybug. She’s not even Ladybug right now.

“You’re odd. Maybe you’ll be even more useful than I thought.” Joker says after a moment of tense silence. Marinette glances around the room, noticing how the goons that came in with Joker were more focused on Joker’s weird reaction to Marinette than the other hostages. Making eye contact with Adrien, Marinette has a silent conversation, hoping that he’s suddenly become a mind reader and will start getting people out of the room while the bad guys are distracted.

“I doubt that. I’m failing science.” Marinette says matter-of-factly. It was true, though she wasn’t usually this bad at science. But it was really hard for her to focus on genetics and biology with everything else going on. So her parents didn’t really blame her either, though it did dissapoint Mme. Mendeleiev.

“You’re kind of a smart ass, aren’t you?” Joker taunts, haphazardly waving the gun around.

“It’s um, one of my better qualities.” Marinette stumbles over her words as the gun stops waving to once again point at her face. Joker smirks, his face suddenly darkening as a crash echoes throughout the room. Marinette pales as she watches Joker turn and shoot through the wall next to the door that Lila was currently walking through. Lila yelps and drops to the ground, and for the first time ever, Marinette is certain her tears are real.

“I see what you were trying to do, Frenchie. You were trying to get my hostages out of here. But why? Why would you play hero like that? What would YOU get out of that?” Joker taunts, moving the gun so that it’s pointed right at Marinette’s face again. This time, Marinette could feel the heat radiating from the end of the gun. From the gun being shot at the wall. Near a classmate. Granted it was Lila, but it was still someone she knew. Someone she couldn’t save with the Miraculous Cure because this would be it. The smoke filling the room pulls Marinette’s attention from the gun in front of her, and instead to the hulking figures that suddenly entered the room. Four people, three of them tall but one of those three towering over everyone else in the room. Marinette blinks as her eyes attempt to adjust and she sucks in a breath in shock. Batman. Batman and Nightwing and Red Hood and Red Robin. Of course she knew the vigilantes here, she had done extensive research on anything to do with the hero scene in Gotham. Mostly to keep herself and the class safe in case of an attack, which now that she thinks about it is actually impossible to plan for. Marinette’s feet seem frozen to the ground as she glances around at the bodies hitting the floor. She couldn’t see clearly, but she was almost certain that they were the goons that had arrived with Joker.

“Oh come on, I was just trying to greet this lovely young lady. Say Batsy, don’t ya think she looks like she could fit with the other Wayne brats?” Joker taunts as Batman closes in on them. Joker had shifted her so that she was pressed up against his chest, the gun now situatated at her temple. Batman stops several feet in front of them, a clear grimace on his face.

“Let the girl go, Joker.” He demands in a gruff voice. Marinette inhales sharply as Joker tightens his hold on her.

“I don’t think so, Bats. See, I need this one to guarantee that I get outta here without taking a trip back to my cell. So how about instead, I’ll take her on a little trip and leave her somewhere you can find her later.” Joker offers.

“I don’t think you’re in any place to attempt negotiations.” Batman replies, his face an unwavering mask.

“And why is that?” Joker asks, and Marinette can hear the wide smile in his voice, though she can’t currently see his face.

“‘Cause you’re the asshole who didn’t bother to focus on the rest of us.” A gruff voice from behind taunts. Joker sputters in shock, but seconds later his arms loosen and Marinette dashes towards Batman, glancing back in time to see the man collapse to the ground.

“Is he?” Marinette asks, unsure how to feel about watching a potential death. Even if the man was horrible, he hadn’t killed her or any of her friends so she couldn’t wish him dead. No matter how much it would help her sleep tonight.

“No.” Batman says. Marinette nods before turning her attention to the head of the Batfamily. A wide smile spreads across her face and she extends her hand for him to shake.

“Well then, thank you for saving me, Monsieur. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Next

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #mbdbwm2021 #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat batfam #maribat adrien agreste #day one meeting

[helpimhyperfixating]

A Writer’s Trouble - Jotaro x Reader

Word Count: 3353

You were a writer. Quietly in class just writing whatever scenes came to your head when the material being taught was too complicated for you to understand or too boring. And at home, you busied yourself with fanfiction every now and then. When you enjoy shows, why not write some fan content for them right?

"Miss Y/N!"

The sound of your name being called made you shoot up in your seat, eyes wide.

All eyes of the class were on you, the teacher holding a stern expression. "That better be notes that you are taking." She crossed her arms and your cheeks started to burn slightly while you frantically nodded, not finding your voice to verbally answer. Clearly the teacher was not convinced by the look she gave you, but she just let it slide and continued on with the lesson.

After what felt like forever, the bell rung for lunch and as you were starting to pack up, suddenly two people surrounded your little table. Looking up, you saw two girls who were notoriously popular standing next to you. One sat down in the seat next to you while the other dragged a chair in front of your table and sat down right in front of you, a sweet smile on her face.

"Hi!" The one in front started and you leaned back a little.

"H-Hi?"

"We noticed you were writing something in class and we were just curious what."

This made you blink a few times in surprise. Why would they be interested in what a random girl is writing? "Why?"

This time, the one sitting next to you spoke up. "Well you see, I've been having trouble finding books I like recently. The ones in the school library are not really what I want but I snuck a peek of what you were doing in class just now and your writing seemed really good!" This caused a small blush to erupt on your cheeks. Not only because of the random compliment that came out of nowhere, but more so because of the fact she read what you had been writing. During class you were bored and your mind had drifted so you had written a random romantic scenario, and now she had read that?

"O-Oh?" You squeaked. She gave you a grin and you swallowed. "Uhm, thanks I guess."

"Could I read more?"

The question caught you off guard and to be honest, you just wanted to have lunch. But it seemed like you were going to have to eat it here with these two cause they didn't seem to have any intent to go away.

"Sure..." You weren't too comfortable with sharing most of your writing but there were a few random scenes and scenarios you thought these two would enjoy that you didn't mind sharing. You saw them every morning in the gaggle hanging around Kujo so you figured they'd like some cheesy romantic stuff. Bending down to sift through your bag, you got out your map/folder filled with pages that held the scenes and sifted through them, pulling out a few. "Here but do-" they were snatched from your hands before you could finish your sentence. "...be careful with them."

"Of course, of course." They both just dismissively waved and started reading them. At least they didn't run off with them, that was a plus.

You still had no idea what they were up to and you figured it wasn't to suddenly make friends with you. But you always had a hard time turning people down and they were acting nice to you, so why shouldn't you act nice back?

While they read you just got your lunch out of your bag and started eating it. You had nothing better to do anyways.

Lunch was slowly coming to a close and both girls finished reading.

"Ohhh, that was so romantic~" The one in front of you wistfully mused out, holding her chin in her hand as she dreamily stared at the ceiling.

"Yes, it was so good!" The one next to you said. Maybe you should learn their names instead of referring to them as 'girl' and 'girl but sitting next to you'. "It almost makes me wish for more."

Raising a sceptical eyebrow, you looked at her, urging her to continue because you figured this was the whole reason they were here. "Well, since you write this I was wondering, do you take requests?~"

You hummed a bit, looking between the two. They shared a look and there was a glint in their eye that you recognised but couldn't recall where you had seen them look like that before. "I've never done so before but maybe. What would you want?"

"Could you write me in such a scene with Jojo!?" The one next to you blurted out all of a sudden, making you visibly flinch back from the sudden burst of noise.

"No no! Please write it with me! My personality fits perfectly with the one in this story already!"

You were now being barraged with requests of romantic scenarios and begging to write them, all the while you just sat, blinking.

Of course. Of course. They were Kujo fan girls #1 and #2 so of course they would want this. You never understood why they kept trying to win his affection when he oh so clearly showed he was not interested.

I mean, you could see the appeal. He was tall dark and handsome, and the thought of a stoic man who loves no one making an exception for you was prime romantic material. But even you - who was as dense as an oakwood plank - even you knew when something was hopeless. You had never pursued the man. You respected his privacy and wishes. To you, he was just another classmate who just so happened to be hounded by half the female population.

"Ehh..." You started, trying to stop the girls from losing their mind and drooling over the delinquent - who wasn't even present - right then and there.

It took a second but both girls stopped and expectantly turned to you. The pure stars in their eyes made it very hard for you to say what you were about to say but you had to.

"I don't mind writing something for you. But I can't write something with Kujo in it. It just makes me very uncomfortable to write real people into a romantic scenario without them knowing of it. It just feels wrong." You put your hand up in a surrendering and calming gesture, hoping that would help defuse the bomb that was surely being built judging from their expressions. "If you had his permission and you both wanted it then it is a different story, but-"

"I have his permission! Jojo loves me, so of course he would want this!" The girl in front burst out, only for her 'friend' to turn to her.

"That's not true, he loves me!"

"No, me!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

This continued on and you slowly slunk back in your seat. You would have sunken under the table and made your escape that way, but one of the girls was sitting right in your path of exit. You were literally caged in between two fighting tigers, getting more and more ready to bite each other's heads off.

Just then, the door slammed open and both girls instantly shut up. In stepped the precise person of discussion and you only sunk further down into your seat, just wanting to disappear and be left alone.

"Oh! Jojo!~"

"Jojo! Why don't you come sit with us! I missed you!"

Jotaro viewed the class, seeing just you three in it, only for him to stride over to his desk, grab something he had left behind, and walk back out. He only spared you all a single glance and dread settled in your stomach. You were sitting with the two girls he probably hated most since they pestered him day in day out. What if he thought you were part of them now as well? What if he started to hate you too? Would he beat you up if you happened to run into each other outside of school?

Just then, the bell rung and to your surprise, both girls just sighed and stood up, starting to walk back to their own spots and leaving you without any further begging or questions. It left you a bit confused and wary of why they so suddenly seemed to forget you turned down writing about their dreamboat but just shrugged it off, hoping that was that.

- - - -

Three weeks had passed just like that. The girls had left you alone after that weird lunch and thankfully enough, Kujo seemed no more aware of your existence than before. Life continued on as normal and you just stayed your happy, quiet self.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You smiled at your best friend who was sitting at a table in the cafeteria, obnoxiously waving at you.

Quickly hurrying over, you grabbed her hand and yanked it down, sending apologetic glances to the people who had turned their heads to see the commotion. "Do you have to be so loud every time, B/F?"

"Of course." She grinned before pulling you down to sit with her. The unexpected action caused you to yelp and lose your balance. Instead of sitting down as intended, you were now splayed over B/F's lap who was cackling loudly at you.

"Oi, this is your fault! Shut it!" You laughed back and playfully hit her shoulder, making her let out an obnoxious 'oww' and rub it as you sat up.

"Y/N, you're always so mean to me." She pouted and you rolled your eyes. If there is one thing you certainly weren't it was mean.

"Well how can I make it up to you then, my dearest?" You played along, clasping your hands in front of you in a begging manner.

"Let me read your latest brain creations." She grinned and you drew your lips into a thin line. She knew you preferred to keep most writing to yourself because by god, sometimes you would create some abominations you wouldn't want anyone in the world to see. These of course, were the ones B/F loved most, cause she could make fun of you for them. You didn't seem to have another choice for now though, since B/F would most likely do something way worse if you didn't comply.

"Alright, alright." You sighed and hoisted your bag up, pulling your map with writings out and starting to thumb through them. "Huh." You remarked, a bit surprised.

"What?"

"It's not there. I could have sworn I put it in here." You hummed, grabbing your history notebook. You had written this piece in history class and thus it should be in there. But when you reached the most recent page, it was torn out, an indication that you should have already put it in your folder. "Oh god. I must have dropped it somewhere..." You went absolutely pale and B/F burst out laughing.

"Sucks to be you I guess!"

You only groaned and let your head fall to the table. Now there was a cheesy romance scene lost in the school! You just hoped someone would pick up the random page and throw it in the trash.

- - - -

~One week later~

You were the first one sitting in the cafeteria for once. Just patiently waiting for B/F, you twiddled your thumbs as you were mindlessly tracing the grooves in the table in front of you.

A hand suddenly slammed down right in your vision and you jumped in your seat. Quickly tracing the arm up to be met with an angrily glaring pair of aqua blue eyes.

"Get up." Jotaro said in a deep and demanding tone but you were frozen in your seat, just staring at him in slight fear.

"Do I have to repeat myself, bitch?" He harshly stated and you quickly stood up, going to grab your bag so you could let him have this table and find a new one for you and your friend, but instead, his hand clamped down on your shoulder, bunching the fabric there and dragging you off with him, leaving your bag behind.

By now, all the people in the cafeteria were staring and you were just scared shitless. What the hell did you do for him to want to beat you up?! He dragged you with him out of the cafeteria, through the halls and out the doors, moving to the back of the school before throwing you in front of him.

You stumbled a bit but luckily stayed on your feet, quickly turning back to look at him, taking a few steps back until your back hit the wall behind you.

"What-"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His voice cut you off and you shut your mouth. He seemed absolutely seething, towering over your tiny form as he glared from beneath his hat. It was quiet for a second, you just staring at him with wide eyes. "Well? Do I have to beat the shit out of you to get you to stop?" He threateningly raised his fist and you finally snapped out of your scared state, going defensive.

"No wait! I have no idea what you're talking about!" You frantically blurted out, waving your hands in front of yourself.

Jotaro, no less annoyed than before pulled something out of his jacket before slamming it right next to your head, holding it there. You squeaked at the action, now fully trapped with no escape.

"This is what I'm talking about." He was leaning down to be eye to eye with you now, caging you in with his arm right next to your head. His free hand was pointing to where he held his other hand and you turned your head to see what he meant.

Beneath his fingers lay a piece of paper, clearly crumpled up and unrolled several times. Unsure of what it was, you lifted your hand and took hold of the corner, making sure not to touch Jotaro's hand in fear that that would make him deck you.

Thankfully, he removed his hand from the wall and took a step back, giving you some personal space again and allowing you to grab the paper and read it.

Smoothening it out, you started reading.

Jotaro kept a close eye on your reactions, a little wary of how clueless you were appearing to be. As you started skimming the page, your eyes widened, almost immediately followed by a furrowing of your brows. You looked confused, but as your eyes got further and further down the page, it turned to angry.

Jotaro squinted his eyes at you, only to be surprised when you suddenly crumpled up the paper, pure hate radiating off of you. "Those goddamn bitches..." Of course, he never showed any surprise, keeping his stoic facade but to say Jotaro was intrigued was an understatement.

Turning to look at him, all fear you previously had was gone, replaced by anger. "This wasn't me." You held up the paper. Hitting it once, you ground your teeth. "Those girls stole my work and put your name in it."

Sceptical, Jotaro raised an eyebrow, still glaring down at you. But his stance was now more aloof than it was threatening and you took it as a sign to explain what you were talking about.

"Your fangirl number 1 and 2 asked me a while ago to write about you, I refused and it seems they took matters into their own hands." You turned around as you said that, looking at the school and glaring at it, as if that would do any good.

"So you didn't write it?" Crossing his arms, Jotaro was still looking down on you and you turned back to face him.

"Oh no, I did." You said and un-crumpled the paper, holding it up for him and pointing to a very specific point. "That's supposed to say 'B' though, not 'Jotaro'. I never write character names, just A and B cause honestly? fuck coming up with names."

Jotaro scoffed a little in amusement and then let out a heavy sigh. "It seemed too competent to come from them indeed."

You couldn't help but laugh loudly at his statement, accidentally causing you to drop the paper. "Woops." You said through laughs and picked it up, calming down as you stood up straight again. "Sorry this happened by the way." You then said and Jotaro sent you a questioning look. "I don't write about real people for a reason and this is exactly why. It's just wrong to do without permission."

Jotaro hummed and you suddenly realised who exactly you were talking to.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you just put the paper in your pocket. "I'll make sure they won't be able to steal any more of my writing so if it works, you won't have to worry about seeing terribly written cheesy romantic scenes anymore. Apart from maybe their own attempts at it." You chuckled at that last bit and looked up to cross eyes with Jotaro.

There seemed to be a somewhat amused glint in them, putting you at ease.

Just then, you remembered a thing and you opened your mouth before abruptly closing it. Following it up with a deep breath. "Okay maybe you will still see some come by for the next few days. I left my bag in the cafeteria, unmanned and unsupervised. Prime chance for some grubby hands to go through it."

"Let's go make sure they fuck off before they plunder the entire thing then."

Jotaro simply turned around while you blinked, pleasantly surprised before you sprinted to catch up with him.

You both walked around the school in quiet, moving to the front doors so you could re-enter again and make your way to the cafeteria.

"I don't mean to pry," You started after a little bit and saw Jotaro glance at you from the corner of his eye, a somewhat wary look in his eye but you just continued. "But how do you keep yourself from punching that entire gaggle of screeching sheep? Honestly I already feel like punching them when I hear them next to me for more than two minutes. And you have to deal with it every day for way longer."

Jotaro visibly relaxed and you heard him let out an amused exhale. "Wouldn't have guessed I have better patience than you." He said back.

You let out an offended gasp at that. "Excuse me my patience is amazing. And let's be fair, I can hear you across the school every day when you yell at them."

He sent you a small side glare, quickly returning to stoically looking forward. "Yes but I haven't ever punched them."

"Neither have I." You smirked. "See? Good patience."

"How about you practice some of that good patience and shut up." His tone of voice was harsh but you could tell there was no anger behind it, so you just let a small smile of victory take over your features as you both walked into the cafeteria.

To say heads turned in surprise when you walked in side by side with Jotaro, unharmed, would be an understatement.

Walking up to the table you had been sitting at, you were relieved to see your friend sitting there, looking at you in disbelief with your bag next to her.

Waving, you walked up and turned to the tall delinquent next to you. "Thanks for not beating me up. I'll see you around." You gave him a weird mock solute before giggling slightly at your stupidity.

Jotaro just hummed and gave you a nod, stuffing his hands in his pocket and turning around, walking out of the cafeteria without a word.

That went way better than you ever could have thought.

#jotaro x reader #JJBA #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #jjba part 3 #sfw #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #bloop

[thran-duils]

Key to the Garden (P.1)

Title: Key to the Garden (Part One) Summary: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Witch Reader (main pairing), but on the side, Dark!Tony Stark x Reader, Dark!Sam Wilson x Reader, Dark!Zemo x Reader. Y/N lives in one of the many fringe covens with her family along with a few other small families that did not want to be roped into the powerhouse coven community, Shield, ran by the Maximoff, Stark, Wilson, and Zemo witch and warlock legacies. Y/N’s grandmother had a run in with the coven community in her youth and she is mostly mum about the incident, but makes it clear that Y/N should stay as far away as she can from them. But when the Shield community discovers where their community is and demands they send someone to teach at their school for upcoming magical beings with threats and when it is demanded that someone from the Y/L/N family be the volunteer, Y/N does not resist to make sure no one else is subjected to them, much to her grandmother’s dismay. Little does Y/N know that a particular head in the community had been searching for them for a very long time and she is going to satisfy a very, very long held grudge. Word Count: 1,893  Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, dub-con, emotional manipulation, imprisonment, orgy, forced pregnancy, death, violence, 18+

Introduction || Part Two || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

Your grandmother grasped your hand tightly as you told the soldiers you would go with them in her stead. Your grandmother had foolishly thought that you would allow her to go from the coven to the Shield Academy, the place she had warned you about since you were able to walk. Locking eyes, you saw the terror in her eyes and guilt washed over knowing you were making her feel that. But you were also doing this for her so she did not have to go. She deserved to be able to relax in her old age and live out her days protected in your coven. You had decades upon decades ahead of you.

Tearing your hand from hers, you told her, “Be well. The willow rejuvenates.”

Tears that had been gathering at the corners of her eyes spilled over as she saw you turn away, being guided into the carriage to take you away.

<><><>

Wanda came down the spiral, stone stairs from her tower in a rush. The servants of the academy went against the wall when they saw her coming, backs straight, giving her a deep bow. The hallway was at least fifteen feet across, more than enough space, but it was done out of respect and custom. They would be berated if they walked past her or any of the other leaders. The custom was not bestowed upon merely the teachers.

Turning the corner to face a flight of stairs, she spotted Sam waiting at the bottom. He was waiting for her having known she had been up in her tower for the better part of the morning.

“Heard that they’re back with two carriages from the other covens,” Sam said to Wanda, falling into side beside her as she walked.

“I didn’t see a second, but I saw the one,” Wanda replied.

“Was it who you were hoping? Was it Elena?”

“No.”

Sam’s face screwed up in confusion and said, “Well, maybe they screwed up.”

“They didn’t,” Wanda said clipped, which only served to confuse him more. She sensed his bewilderment and she offered tightly, “I know she’s from the right coven. It was like I was seeing a ghost when she came out of the carriage.”

Sam ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, contemplating as they turned a corner towards the front door. The students in the hall parted seeing two of their leaders, giving them curt bows that Sam and Wanda ignored in turn. Much like with the servants, they were not equals to their leaders.

In quieter tones, Sam asked, “Well, do you think she is going to be able to provide the same—”

“I’m not sure, Sam,” Wanda cut in sharply, an air of annoyance about her.

She was high strung, that much was clear to Sam. She had been ever since she had figured out where Elena was and sent their soldiers out to retrieve someone from the coven, preferably Elena. Wanda had given instructions to suggest her, wanting Elena to make the decision on her own because she knew how altruistic Elena was. She wanted Elena to choose to come back to her, even if it was through unscrupulous means.

The other leaders of the academy – Sam, Tony, and Helmut – knew of the shared past with Elena and Wanda. She had not shared the finer details of their relationship past they had worked together, but Wanda knew the men were not daft – they could discern the intimacy that Wanda and Elena had shared. Had shared… before Elena pulled away, taking her power and just as important, her affection with her, leaving Wanda alone.

When Wanda stepped down into the entrance hall and was faced with this woman, she felt her skin was on fire. All the past touches, and late nights wrapped in each other’s arms came rushing back to her. It took everything in her to not stride forward and encompass the woman to her as if she was coming back from a long journey and was finally back home safe. Wanda only outwardly flinched in her fingers in her inner turmoil.

The young woman’s features were even more strikingly similar to Elena up close. A picturesque witch that threatened from the moment Wanda laid eyes on her to drag her under her spell. Wanda’s lips parted, feeling as if her breath was stolen from her. She was stronger than this, she need not fall under this woman’s spell. But her nose, her lips, the hair… it all tugged at Wanda. The eyes were different though. That may be for the better, Wanda thought to herself. It would help her to prevent herself from confusing the two completely and allowing her past feelings to overtake her in the presence of this woman.

Behind the woman trailed a Cross fox that was curiously looking around the entrance hall. Wanda admired the coloring of it. Its face and legs were black, with trails of black throughout the rest of its orange fur. It was sleek, its eyes piercing. She would need to be careful around this creature.

The woman came closer to Sam and Wanda, reading the signs from the surrounding guard that they were the people she needed to be greeting with how they were standing erect and leaving them their space. She smiled warmly and Wanda felt a pang. The smile was so similar to the one Elena used to give her lovingly.

“Thank you for the comfortable carriage,” the woman said in an even tone.

Wanda saw past the civility though; she was not happy she was collected and taken away. And that was only prodding gently at her mind because she was unable to penetrate further. Wanda’s jaw ticked; Elena had certainly trained her family against mind manipulation; she was going to be unable to capitalize on that. The girl had a solid wall up and all Wanda could do was scratch at the surface.

She gave a curt bow and Wanda gave a tight lipped smile in return. Sam was ever careful about his reactions, gauging what he should do depending on Wanda. Sam bowed his head in acknowledgment towards the girl.

“Your name?” Wanda asked.

“Y/N.”

Wanda savored the way the name would roll off her tongue, her mind flashing to whispering the name in late night corridors, beckoning her to her chambers.

“I’m Wanda. This is Sam. We are two of the four leaders at the school. The others – Tony and Helmut – you’ll meet later at dinner. Along with the other teachers of course.”

“Pleasured. I’ve heard a lot about the reputation of this school. I sadly never attended due to the nature of my coven.”

“Every coven has their own rules, and we respect that.” That was a lie. Wanda wanted every coven under her rule, but it served her now to lie. “You must be tired. Can they gather your things, and you can come inside to have us show you to your quarters?”

Y/N patted her thigh and ordered, “Ember.” The fox came to her side and sat down obediently.

“An impressive choice for a familiar,” Sam told her. “Not very conspicuous to have one trotting after you.”

With an amused smile, Y/N told him, “Oh, she is not a familiar. She’s my pet. My familiar Nyx is somewhere. My cat. She took off as soon as I opened the door, but she will come back. Is that frowned upon?”

“No, familiars are allowed to roam as long as they don’t cause trouble,” Sam answered.

“I promise she won’t. I’m not expecting danger here.”

She was calculated that much Wanda was gathering right now. That last sentence especially was insinuating she was on her toes with the flash in her eyes, ready for them to betray her.

Wanda gestured towards the front door, “We can give a brief tour on the way to your rooms. They’ll bring your things, don’t worry about that.”

Y/N walked forward, the fox following behind. Wanda was taking note the fox looked extremely protective of Y/N. She would soon have to figure out how to separate them or gain the fox’s trust. The latter seemed more likely if she played her cards right.

On the way to her rooms, a long-haired white cat came running up the hall and came to stride in front of them, tossing looks over its shoulder at Y/N, Wanda, and Sam.

Wanda’s brow furrowed; she had never seen this cat before. And that is when she realized it was Y/N’s familiar. The cat was leveling Wanda with a hard gaze even in its brief glances at both her and Sam; it did not trust them, She could sense that.

Playing it cool, Wanda gave a little chuckle, catching Y/N’s attention.

“You named a white cat Nyx,” Wanda commented, amused. “You’ll need a sense of humor around here.”

<><><>

After settling Y/N into her chambers, Wanda had brought Sam away to go towards the south tower where Tony and Helmut were prepping for the spring equinox. Spell bags were scattered along the table, ones they would hand out to select students and allow them to cast them themselves to they could bring renewal to the academy.

Tony caught sight of them entering and noticed her demeanor. “What’s going on?”

“The new recruits we sent for are here.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Helmut questioned, a layer of confusion in his tone at Wanda’s stiffness.

Wanda grabbed a handful of jasmine petals from the stone bowl at the end of the room, heading towards the alter. “We are still going to need a sacrifice. Maybe a handful until she gets on board.”

Tony shrugged, “We were expecting that. But light at the end of the tunnel. With Elena here now, you’ll have to work less eventually.”

“She’s not here,” Wanda clipped, her body stiff with her frustration.

Tony’s brow furrowed, “What?”

“She didn’t come.” It sounded like it was difficult for her to admit that. Like she had personally failed.

“Then what is going on?” Helmut asked, taking a step forward towards her away from where he was prepping.

She held a hand up and he stopped. His eyes flicked to her palms, knowing what she was capable of. The three men were powerful, but they could not hold a candle to her if they took her on on their own.

“The plan is going forward as we planned.”

“How without Elena?” Tony asked, sounding short of patience now.

“I have her blood still.”

“Did you go drain her?” Tony asked, his tone getting tighter, breeching on sarcastic. He was an impatient person and had little room for the appetite to put up with people toying with him.

“No,” Wanda said dismissively, walking past them to go throw her petals into the alter for good fortune and protection.

Sam came up beside Tony and Helmut, hands in his pockets. Out the corner of his mouth he said, “The granddaughter came. Wanda is in a tizzy. She expected a crone, and she got the fertile, spitting image.” Tony and Helmut both were heedful at the mention of fertile and Sam did not miss it, a smirk breaking out. Finally turning his head, he met Tony’s eyes and then Helmut’s briefly each before walking forward and grabbing the jasmine petals to offer.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl @namjoonwatcheshentai 

Fic tags: @ivybarns 

#dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!sam wilson #dark!helmut zemo #dark!baron zemo #dark marvel #my shit #tony stark x reader #sam wilson x reader #baron zemo x reader

[iam93percentstardust]

First of all, Happy Birthday Month!!! Many happy returns!! I have been reading fanfiction for e very long time, but this is the 1st time I have ever submitted a prompt. I kinda think Stuckony would be great but I am down with Winteriron or Stony, wherever the prompt takes you. You're amazing so I know it's gonna be fantastic! Thanks in advance!💜💜💜 “Is that your robot?” “That’s a rude way to talk about my husband.”

This was such a fun prompt to write, thanks for sending it in! And thank you for the birthday wishes!

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

~

Something taps against Bucky’s foot. At first, he ignores it, figuring someone just bumped into him, but then it happens again and then for a third time. He looks down, fully expecting to see a small child, only to see a small gold and blue robot run into his shoe, back up, and then run right into it again. It looks a little like an atom with a central core and three rings spinning around it in multiple directions. He smiles at the oddly charming behavior and bends down to pick the robot up, wondering if it came from one of the many glittering exhibits he and Steve have walked past today or if it belongs to someone.

“Hey, Stevie,” he begins, thinking to share it with his husband, but when he looks around, Steve isn’t anywhere near him. Bucky sighs and turns in a circle, hoping to spot him somewhere in the packed crowd. Who knew the Stark Expo would draw so many people on a Tuesday in the middle of March? “Stevie, you’re too small to wander off like this.”

He feels a tug on the hem of his coat and then a small voice primly says, “Excuse me, Mister Sir, that’s mine.”

“Huh?” He looks down again, this time to see a young girl of about six or seven years holding onto his jacket. “Oh! Is this your robot?” he asks, crouching down to her level.

“That’s a rude way to talk about my husband,” she informs him, holding her hand out for the robot.

Bucky blinks at her. He’s heard about kids playing pretend with their toys but that’s usually things like Legos or dolls, right? Not a whirring, circular robot that doesn’t even have a face.

“Can I please have Jarvis back?” the girl asks, insistently tugging on his coat again.

“Oh, sure, sorry about that.” He passes it back to her and then looks around, hoping to spot the girl’s parents before she realizes she’s left them. He’s dealt with plenty of upset kids at the school he and Steve work at, so he’s more than capable of handling any meltdown she might have, but he’d like to stave it off if he can. Unfortunately, he doesn’t spot anyone frantically looking for a lost kid, so he’s just getting ready to resign himself to dealing with a crying kid when Steve appears from out of nowhere.

“Hey, Buck, sorry about that, got sidetracked by one of the exhibits. The person works with sand and sound to make art, it was really—” He stops short at the sight of the girl hugging her robot. “Bucky. You didn’t pick up another stray, did you?”

“Excuse me?” Bucky asks, affronted. “I never—”

“No? So what’s Alpine then? Or Dodger? Or, for that matter, me?” Steve crouches down next to the girl and holds out his boney hand for her to shake. “Hey, kid, my name’s Steve. This is Bucky. What’s your name?”

She gives him a suspicious look, but must decide that he’s safe because she says after a moment, “Morgan.”

“Well, Miss Morgan, why don’t we see about finding your parents?” Steve offers. “It looks like they’ve gotten lost.”

Morgan turns one way and then the other, noticing for the first time that she’s alone. Her lower lip trembles, eyes welling up with big, fat tears. “I—”

Bucky, sensing an impending meltdown, quickly says, “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find them. We grown-ups are pretty good at getting lost. It’s up to brave kids like you to help us get found again.”

Morgan sniffs, but nods. “I’m here with Uncle Happy,” she says, sliding her small hand into Bucky’s.

“Then let’s find Uncle Happy,” Steve says decisively. “Would you like me to hold your robot?”

She shakes her head, clutching the robot tighter to her. “You can’t take JARVIS,” she says. “He’s mine.”

“Okay,” Bucky says soothingly. “We won’t take him away.” He shares a quick glance with Steve. “Should we start at Lost and Found?”

“If I may, Sirs,” the robot suddenly says in a cool British voice. Steve yelps, jumping away from it. Bucky startles, dropping Morgan’s hand.

Morgan giggles. “Don’t worry, that’s just Jarvis. He’s an artificial intelligence.” She pronounces the words carefully, like it’s something she’s been taught to say. She holds the robot up, who lights up with every word he says.

“The tracker in this device has been activated. There will be no need to move from this location. Sir will be here momentarily,” Jarvis tells them.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Steve mutters, taking a closer look at the robot. “It talks.”

“I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System or—”

“JARVIS,” Bucky realizes. “It’s an acronym, not a name.”

“Quite so, though I was named for Edwin Jarvis, an old friend of Sir’s.”

“And Sir is…?”

JARVIS lights up like it’s going to talk again but before it says anything, they hear someone say loudly, “Morgan H. Stark!”

Morgan’s face brightens and she turns, running right into the arms of a slender man in a suit, closely followed by another larger man. “Daddy!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around the man, who catches her up in a tight hug.

“What have we said about running off?” the man asks, sounding worried. He has a familiar voice, Bucky thinks. He wonders where he’s heard it before.

“I didn’t run off,” Morgan protests. “JARVIS did and I had to get him.”

“You didn’t think to tell Happy where you were going?” The man gently brushes her hair out of her eyes before straightening up, setting Morgan on his hip.

“I didn’t have time! JARVIS was moving too fast.”

The man makes a dissenting noise. “Flaw in your logic.”

She shakes her head. “No flaw.”

“Yes flaw. JARVIS has a tracker. You, O’ Great and Powerful Maguna, do not.”

It’s adorable watching the two of them together, seeing the way the man softens the longer he holds Morgan and the way Morgan leans into him. And it doesn’t hurt that the man is wildly attractive too: all big brown eyes and curly hair that Bucky wants to feel between his fingers (he bets they’re as soft as they look). Bucky feels something stir in his heart that he hasn’t felt since the day he met Steve. He quickly glances at Steve, wondering if Steve feels the same way. Steve’s eyes could practically be cartoon hearts, he’s melting so obviously, and Bucky smiles to himself. Maybe, if they play their cards right…

“But I didn’t get lost,” Morgan protests and points at Bucky and Steve. “I had Mister Bucky and Mister Steve.”

Abruptly, all the warmth drains out of the man’s expression. He looks at Bucky and Steve coldly, mouth a thin, tight line. “Oh you did, did you?” He turns to the second man behind him. “Happy, could you take Morgan for a moment?”

“Daddy—” But Happy—who looks more like an Angry than a Happy—has already nodded and taken her from the man’s arms.

“You got it, boss.”

The man now stalks closer to Bucky and Steve. “Alright,” he says abruptly. “How much do I owe you?”

Steve’s expression goes blank. “I’m sorry?” he repeats, voice tense with hidden anger.

“What do you want for this?” the man says. “Finder’s fee, something to keep you quiet, what do you want?”

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are—” Steve begins heatedly, right as Bucky realizes where he’s seen this man before.

“Stevie, stop,” he mutters, catching Steve’s arm before he can get too angry and take a swing at the guy. “That’s Tony Stark.”

“Huh?” Steve looks again and then his face clears. “Oh. This must happen a lot, huh?”

Stark glances between the two of them, looking confused now, rather than angry. That’s good; that’s something Bucky can work with.

“Look, we’re sorry about all this,” Bucky says apologetically. “But we’re really not trying to cause trouble. Morgan’s robot ran into my foot, that’s how we met. We didn’t even know who she was until you got here. You don’t need to pay us off or anything.”

“Really,” Stark states suspiciously. “So I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and all the headlines are saying that I can’t take care of my kid?”

“We’re both teachers,” Steve says, gesturing at him and Bucky. “We know kids wander off all the time. They’re more slippery than a bar of soap in the shower. You’re not going to hear anything from us.”

Stark slumps and runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired all of a sudden, not that Bucky can blame him now that he knows this entire Expo is being run by him. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “You just can’t be too careful in this line of business.”

“I can imagine,” Bucky says soothingly. “If it would help, we’d be happy to sign an NDA.”

“Pepper would probably kill me if I didn’t ask you to,” Stark admits. He sighs. “Great, first time I contact her since the divorce and it’s about my fuckup.”

“You’re not a fuckup,” Steve insists. “Seriously, this happens all the time. Just last week, I had a kid decide he wanted to keep looking at the snails in the Botanical Gardens we took the kids to while the rest of us went to lunch. Took me an hour to find him.”

Tony gives him a hopeful look. “Really?”

“Really. It’s okay. You’re not a bad parent.”

“I’ve just—I’m supposed to be presenting in—” He checks his watch.

Happy shouts, “Five minutes ago, boss.”

“It’s my presentation, I think they can wait for me if I’m running late. Morgan didn’t want to wait while I was prepping so I asked Happy to take her to see some of the exhibits. I didn’t think she’d wander away.”

“Well, hey, we’d hate to make you any later,” Bucky says. “So we’ll let you—”

Morgan pipes up, “Daddy, can’t Mister Bucky and Mister Steve come too?”

“Well—”

“They were so nice,” she says, making her eyes big and wide. “And I think we should be nice and let them watch.”

Stark smiles helplessly at her. “You know what that is? That’s extortion.” He turns to Bucky and Steve again and shrugs. “Do you want to come? It’ll be backstage, so you won’t get to see as much as you would if you were watching from the front. But it’ll be fun, I’m presenting the new arc reactor. Oh—and please, call me Tony. We’re all friends here, no need to stand on formalities.”

Steve and Bucky have one of their silent conversations that always bothers their friends. “Are you sure?” Steve asks. “We wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Tony gives Bucky a very obvious onceover, followed by a look at Steve, just as obvious and just as hungry. “Oh yes,” he murmurs. “I’m sure.”

“Then we’d love to,” Bucky says, giving Tony a onceover of his own. He and Steve don’t often invite a third partner to their bed, but there’s just something about Tony.

“Great!” Tony chirps. His eyes go dark and heated as he adds, “And maybe afterwards, we can talk about a way to pay you back for helping Morgan out.”

“Tony, really, we don’t need anything,” Steve begins.

“Please,” Tony purrs. “I insist.”

#alle writes #alle answers #stuckony #if you like please consider reblogging #chellibean86

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

You mentioned in a post that you don’t believe it was Tom’s intention to run his torture-factory/dystopian academy. Why do you think it ended up that way? Did he simply lose the capacity to care about the children at that point?

Oh god.

Why do you people ask me things that require Tolstoy novel length explanations about Tom Riddle that will still make me sound crazy by the end of it? 

Let’s get to it, I suppose.

My usual Tom Riddle analysis disclaimers: we have a lot of ground to cover and little time cover it in so I’m not going to expand on every single line I drop, I will undoubtedly offend somebody if I haven’t already and if you think that might be you then you should probably move along, we’re going to have to make a lot of assumptions.

Required reading material (yes, you have asked an ask that has goddamn required reading material):

Tom Riddle’s Goal Was to Destroy the Wizarding World

Tom Riddle’s Not Crazy

Tom Riddle is Depressed and Suicidal

Voldemort is an Idea, Not a Man

You read it? For realz? For really realz? Okay, then let’s move forward.

I think it’s a bit of both.

I think by the time we get to Tom Riddle in canon, let alone Deathly Hallows, he is buried in rage, depression, and nihilism. He cares about very little anymore, is probably in constant physical pain, life is a black pit of despair, and it’s only fitting that somewhere out there the children are suffering too.

Now that said, I do think he never intended for Hogwarts to become the way it did and did put in fairly reasonable efforts so that it would not. It did anyway. Why do I think that?

He left most of the staff, key staff members at that and known resistance members, untouched and in their posts

He put Severus Snape, of all Death Eaters, in charge of the school

He turned a blind eye to the active student rebellion of nearly half the school’s population

He did not remove the children of known resistance members from the castle and make them hostages

The battle of Hogwarts

The Staff

It’s very telling to me that there is little to no turnover of the staff. Yes, we get the Carrows for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Malfoy gets to be a hall monitor on steroids, but all the original faculty remains and most retain their full original positions.

Minerva McGonagall, who is a known Order member, is allowed to retain her position as Transfiguration professor even when she actively aids and engages in the student led rebellion at the school. Hell, she actively spies on Hogwarts’ inner workings and reports back to the Order, and Tom lets her get away with this.

Despite Tom’s destroying the sorting hat, which I actually fully agree with as I think that thing actively causes major rifts in wizarding society, he actually doesn’t want to rock the boat and in this wants education to continue in much the same manner as before he took power.

He Leaves Snape in Charge

Snape is by far the most level headed Death Eater and actually has experience as a professor, seems to handle children well enough, and has existing relationships with the Hogwarts faculty. If anyone was supposed to get Hogwarts working under the new regime and keep everything in check, then it’s this guy.

I imagine Tom thought Snape could easily handle this. Snape can’t handle this.

Unfortunately, Tom trusted Snape to be competent. Snape chose not to be competent, or rather, I’m sure he had no idea what the fuck Tom wanted from him. I think, for all Snape managed to evade detection, he really has no idea how Tom Riddle works, mostly because all he sees of the man is the ridiculous show that is Voldemort. Based on that, Tom Riddle expects the castle to be in ruins by the year’s end, and Snape delivers the best appearance of this he can while actively turning a blind eye to student rebellion.

In other words, Snape went with his best guess of chaos and despair, which was a good guess.

So Snape sits there as Headmaster, the faculty refuses to interact with him, the hired on Death Eater faculty don’t listen to him and he can’t quite tell them off for torturing the children, because he’s pretty sure that’s what Tom wants and the whole thing spirals out of control until the children are actually arming themselves and Tom Riddle has to actually invade Hogwarts.

He has to invade a school, cutting down children, because Snape could not do his job. 

Tom Turned a Blind Eye to Student Rebellion

Remember Dumbledore’s Army and how quickly they were found out? These kids are not being at all secretive. They’re having meetings that both Snape and McGonagall are aware of (both doing their best to hide it), we know that eventually Draco the Hall Monitor finds out about it, and it’s clear that there are key active instigators in Hogwarts.

They then actually barricade themselves in a room and refuse to leave, arming themselves for “the rebellion”.

Tom does nothing.

Oh, sure, the people inside the castle do things but Tom never instructs them to stake out Hogsmeade (where they must be getting supplies), to start pulling out the big guns and threatening their specific families, or anything more.

I think this shows Tom was willing to let a lot go, he just couldn’t let go actual open rebellion or the reemergence of Harry Potter the messiah figure rallying the troops.

Where Are the Hostages?

Tom Riddle knows the entire Weasley family are very strong members of the Order of the Phoenix. He knows early in that Neville Longbottom is instigating rebellion within Hogwarts.

Ginny is not immediately taken from Hogwarts, she is, in fact, sent on her merry way and seems to do just fine for months even when her brothers are writing “U No Poo” on their store windows (and indeed, Fred and George suffer nothing for that either). 

Neville, while he does eventually go into hiding, is able to act on his own for months as a known close friend of Harry Potter’s and is never taken hostage.

To me it seems very clear that Tom Riddle really does want to leave the kids alone and as undisturbed as he reasonably can given the circumstances.

The Battle of Hogwarts: The Timeout

Tom is eventually forced to invade Hogwarts. His enemies are school children and the teachers who think it’s a brilliant idea to send said school children into battle (it’s the Dumbledore way!)

It’s a slaughter house.

As Harry’s running around like a lunatic he glimpses children being murdered and grievously injured left and right. The Death Eaters are not suffering nealry as collosol damages.

And yet, despite this, Tom calls for a timeout.

He gives a very weird speech, in which he’s giving them an hour reprieve (HINT HINT, WINK WINK) in which they are to deliver him Harry Potter. At which point the battle will be over and they can all go home.

Tom had the advantage, had he cared nothing for the children or actively wanted to put them down, he could have easily done so and captured Harry Potter. Instead, he takes the world’s weirdest timeout, making a very loud announcement about his timeout, likely in the hopes that the children would take the hint and get the hell out of the castle.

No one gets the hint.

Instead, Harry Potter shows up ready to be murdered. Tom will take it, murders Harry, carries his corpse into Hogwarts saying, “YOUR HERO IS DEAD, DESPAIR, NOW PLEASE LEAVE SO I CAN STOP MURDERING ALL OF YOU.”

Harry then springs to life, “GOOD NEWS, EVERYONE! I’M NOT DEAD, YOU CAN CONTINUE MURDERING ALL OF US!”

Tom dies inside, then per my earlier post, runs into an arrow and dies for realz.

TL;DR Tom Riddle’s life is a joke in which he unintentionally ends up murdering the children

#ask #anon #harry potter

[multiverse-muse]

A Pretty Cage is Still a Cage

magic!reader x loki, not quite canon compliant, also on my ao3

“Have you enjoyed learning from the strange doctor?” You control your urge to grin wide as you turn to face Loki. You were taking a break in the compound’s library, which was barely ever occupied beyond yourself.

“It’s Doctor Strange.” You correct, shaking your head and rolling your eyes at him, but you can’t hide your smile.

“That’s what I said.” Loki said.

“I’ve actually been training with Wanda, thank you very much. Stephen’s technique was a little too...intellectual for me. Theory learning and such.”

“No wonder you left his teaching, your magic is inane and hardly helped through books.” Loki paused. “Midgardian books, anyway. I’m sure even his Sanctum does not have half the amount of material as my own library.”

“I can’t tell if you’re bragging or still trying to be mean about Stephen.” Loki simply grinned, giving an elegant shrug. You roll your eyes. “Welcome back, Loki.”

“I’m not back for long. Thor wanted to check in on something quickly and then we’re headed back. I was hoping you’d return with us.” Loki explained. You simply blinked at him for a long moment before realizing your mouth was hanging open.

“Wait, wait, me? Going to Asgard?” With you?” You sputter.

“And my brother, but yes, you’ve gotten the gist of it. You need a good teacher if you are to master your magic.”

“Oh, no way. I would stick out like a sore thumb in Asgard. A very ugly, very sore thumb.” You argue. A frown crosses Loki’s face.

“You should know, you’re quite a pretty thumb. Far and away prettier than most. Asgard can hardly prepare itself for you.” Loki retorts. You frown and squint your eyes at him.

“I still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

*

You had not been practicing your magic very long. Nor had you known Loki, Thor, and the other Avengers very long. You had met them only a few months ago, when a Hydra unit hit your hometown, looking for mutants to use in an army. All they found was you: you who had only had your abilities awoken during the scuffle with Hydra. After they were defeated, the Avengers offered you a place at their compound. They knew plenty of magic users who could help teach you or, if you had preferred, they had connections to Professor Xavier. You had declined that offer, preferring to learn from Loki.

Loki himself had not been with the Avengers long. After the death of his mother and his own revelation of sorts, he’d given up on conquest. He still longed for the throne, but now he planned to simply outlive Thor. Which, really, he thought wouldn’t take long, considering how many foolish things Thor gets himself involved with. His presence in the Avengers Compound made him an easy teacher to access.

This set up nicely for the two of you to become quick friends. Both on the outside of the circle, looking in and feeling out of place. Loki was better at hiding it, of course, and to an extent he did prefer to stay out of the spotlight. At least, when it came to the Avengers.

Now, you stood between the two brothers at the Bifrost, having just passed through the nauseating space tunnel thing that Thor uses to travel. Asgard loomed before you, beautiful and decadent and otherworldly. Which it was, you supposed. That and incredibly overwhelming.

“Welcome to our home.” Thor said.

“I’ve already alerted King Odin of your arrival.” You turn and spot a man who could only be Heimdall. You can’t help but appreciate his form even as the thought of Odin terrified you.

“Thank you, Heimdall.” Thor introduced the two of you officially before the two of you and Loki approached the main palace.

“What if your father doesn’t like me?” It bursts from your mouth before you can stop it and you reach out and grab onto Loki’s arm. “What if he sends me back to Earth?”

“Then he’ll only prove his own foolishness.” Loki waved away your concern easily. He took the hand on his arm and placed it in the crook of his elbow, so he was now leading you as you walked. The three of you are met at the door by a guard, joined by others as you walked, and by the time you reached the throne hall, you all had an entourage of nearly a dozen men. Someone on the other side of the door announced your presence and the door began to open. You hastily try to pull your hand from Loki’s arm, though he held tight and sent you a frowning glance.You tugged again but couldn’t budge from him.

“My sons!” Odin greeted from the throne. He was just as intimidating as you’d expected and if not for your hand still being in Loki’s grasp, you’re sure you would’ve either fainted or ran back out the door. “And our honored guest! Welcome to Asgard, milady.”

“Oh, ah, th-thank you!” You squeak out, then whisper to Thor, “Do I bow? Curtsy?”

“You may do either, if you feel the need but I do not require anyone to do so, particularly guests who may be unaware of traditions.” Odin eased your worry. He and the boys spoke for a moment before his attention turned back to you. “Now, as I understand, you are learning magic from my son. I’m curious to see where your abilities lie now, before his teaching.”

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty.” You glance at Loki and Thor with wide eyes before facing King Odin fully. You take a deep breath and raise your hands. One thing you’d learned while training with Dr. Strange and Wanda was that your powers came from feelings, not thoughts. As such, your magic tended to be temperamental. This time however, you channeled your nervousness into a solid energy and opened your eyes to see orbs of pale yellow light floating through the chamber.

“It’s not much.” You admit, lowering your hands. The orbs hang for a few moments before they start to fade, one by one. One falls to the floor and changes shape into that of a cat, which nudges Loki’s leg before disappearing. “But I’m learning.”

“I expect my son will do a good job teaching you, I am curious to see your abilities develop. Now, I allow you all to retire and clean up, for there will be a festive dinner tonight to celebrate your arrival home.” You’re all escorted from the throne room and then led to your chambers. The boys obviously knew where their own rooms were but neither seemed sure where you were meant to go. That question was answered by one of the guards stationed outside Thor’s room.

“One of the spare rooms connecting to Prince Loki’s chambers has been fitted out as a guest’s chambers. King Odin assumed she’d want to be near those she knew.” You sighed with relief even as your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected to be staying so close to Loki.

“Good, good! I will meet the two of you before dinner.” Thor grinned at you and Loki before entering his room. The guards continued to escort you and Loki down the hallway.

“Where’s your room?” You ask. You feel Loki’s arm tense and realize you’ve left your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Just another hallway or so down. Impatient to get into my private chambers?” Loki smirked and you rolled your eyes in response.

“I believe I remember someone promising me that the baths here are fantastic. I didn’t know if I should take one before dinner.” You said. You’re led down a set of stairs to another floor. Loki takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing on down the stairs. The lights seemed to be more abrasive down here, the air cooler. The guards finally stop at a door and gesture you towards it.

“Well, here we are. Home, sweet home.” Loki finally lets your hand drop free and he strolls into the room. After a moment of silence and looking at the guards, you finally follow him through. The first room is simply an antechamber and had three doors leading out. One was still closed, one leading further into a living room style chamber and the last seemed to be a bathroom of sorts. There were no windows in any of the rooms that you could see. The colors were all muted and it felt even chillier in here than in the hallway. You followed Loki into the living room.

“Why is it so…” You trailed off, not wanting to offend Loki if this was how he had meant his rooms to be.

“Bland? Oppressive?” Loki offered.

“I was going to say cold.” You mumble.

“Yes, that too.” Loki lets out a long sigh. “They don’t trust me in the royal corridor. They want me somewhere easy to watch, so they can keep an eye on me. They trust me only enough to go out with Thor. When he is gone, this is where I remain.”

“That’s...sad.” You said. Loki turned to you with a mild glare.

“I do not want your pity.” He snapped. You shake your head.

“No pity, Loki, it’s just sympathy.” You look around the room. Loki had obviously lived here a while: books littered every shelf and flat surface, a few pieces of clothing were tossed over furniture. But it still felt stifling, like there wasn’t quite room to breath. “They’re still keeping you locked up.”

“At least I’m no longer in the prison even further below, locked in a cage among those mongrels.” Loki all but snarls.

“It doesn’t matter how pretty it is, Loki, a cage is still a cage.” You regard the room again while Loki regards you. He walks over to you, looking contemplative.

“You’re the only one who sees this the way I do. My father tells me he loves me, yet there’s chains on the door at night.” Loki muses.

“Really?” You ask in disbelief.

“No, of course not, simple chains would not stop me.” Loki gives you a sly grin and you just give him a deadpan stare. “But, thank you for the...sympathy. Now, go on to your room. Make sure you look decent. If you get bored, you know where to find me.”

*

Dinner was not as wild an affair as you’d feared it would be. Thor explained that feasts were more festive, but a simple welcome home ‘fancy dinner’ was not enough of a cause for the Asgardians to go crazy. Not since Thor and Loki now returned home regularly, anyway. You were quiet all through dinner, mostly due to nerves and the fear that you’d open your mouth and call Odin out for how he still locked Loki away like a bird.

Dinner and the next few days melted away quickly. During morning hours, Loki trained you to use your powers. Afternoons were spent exploring Asgard, meeting people, and warrior training. You didn’t participate in the warrior training. That was specifically for Loki and Thor, occasionally with Sif, the Warriors Three, and/or Brunnhilde. Mostly you read through these sessions, enjoying the outdoors but staying far removed from the scuffles.

“She’s not looking, you can stop trying to show off.” Brunnhilde said, clipping Loki on the shoulder as they were sparring.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked. Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and easily ducked the strike of his dagger. There was a reason Loki preferred magic to actual combat.

“You’ve been showing off, hoping she’s watching. We’re not dumb.” She glances over to Thor and Volstagg, who were tangled in some strange wrestling. “I’m not dumb.” She replied. She disarmed him easily and then knocked him onto his ass. Without thinking, he glanced at you, though you were too absorbed in the book you held and didn’t see him looking so foolish. Loki sighed in relief and then started when Brunnhilde snorted.

“You brothers and your Midgardians.” She strut off over to Sif and Loki had to help himself up out of the dirt.

*

“See, you’re not terrible at this.” Loki said.

“Thanks.” You reply sarcastically, concentrating on the pale yellow shield you’d managed to form around yourself. “That sounds an awful lot like you mean I’m not good at it.”

“I didn’t say that.” Loki grins. You roll your eyes and the magic shield drops. You lower your hands and throw yourself onto the nearby couch. It was easiest for you both to train in Loki’s chambers than to go to any other space where you’d have a handful of guards watching your and Loki’s everymove.

“Can I be done? For a little while?” You grumble. Magic was hard. Magic was tiring. And spending so much time with Loki was making you worry that your heart was going to give out.

“We’ve barely begun.” Loki replies, though he joins you on the couch.

“We can just chill for a while. You’ve been training me and then training with Thor, you must be exhausted.” You say. He simply hums in reply, waving his hand and making a book appear. You grin to yourself, before settling more comfortably into the couch. Every once in a while, Loki would read a passage of the book aloud to you, if he thought it funny or clever or interesting.

The next thing you knew, you were blinking awake slowly. You panicked a moment as someone touched you before realizing it was just someone playing with your hair. It took another moment to realize who it must have been. You were draped across Loki, your head in his lap while he kept reading, his free hand running through your hair. You close your eyes to savor the moment. Loki chuckles lowly to himself and you take a breath to steel yourself.

“What’s funny?” You mumble. Loki’s hand immediately disappears from your hair.

“Just the author being an incompetent fool.” Loki answers. You finally sit up, rubbing your eyes, while Loki gives you a mildly amused look. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You whine, blushing. Loki sets his book to the side and shifts slightly to face you more.

“Someone came by while you slept. My father is preparing a feast to celebrate the beginning of Jul. As an honored guest of his sons, you are required to go.” Loki’s face formed into an unhappy frown. “As a son, I am required to go.”

“So...like the welcoming feast but worse?” You ask. Loki rises, returning his book to the shelf but answering you as he goes.

“The dinner you attended on your first night was not even a true feast. This feast will last for hours, go late into the evening, requires dancing, and almost certainly will end with my brother being so drunk he does something ridiculous.”

“Oh. Wait! What am I supposed to wear?” You ask. When you’d arrived, you’d been brought a variety of garments to choose from. You preferred pants and a top over the dresses that were offered to you, though they were pretty. Simple Asgardian clothing was still fancier than anything you’d ever owned back on Earth. Even still, everything you had at your disposal was not suited for a fancy gathering.

“Clothing, probably.” Loki’s grin turned mischievous. “Or nothing, if you’d prefer, though I would suggest keeping to the chambers if you decide to run around nude.” You throw the pillow from the couch at him, which he easily waves away with a chuckle.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? You ass.” You scoff at him, trying to hide the blush rising. You rise from the couch, checking the clock on the wall. You’d barely learned to read the Asgardian script but you could tell it was time for lunch. Your attention was dragged back to Loki as he approached you.

“Is that such a problem, if I would enjoy it?” Loki asked lowly, reaching up and tucking some hair back behind your ear. You really were blushing now, hardly able to keep eye contact with him.

“Loki-” You were cut off as a bang! came from the door.

“Brother! Y/N!” Thor called from beyond the door. You rushed away from Loki, feeling suddenly very out of breath and very disappointed. You opened the door to reveal a grinning Thor. “Volstagg and his family has invited us for lunch, if you liked to join.”

“That sounds nice.” You say without thinking. You both look towards Loki who has an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’ll stay and eat here, I’d rather not deal with the miniature Volstaggs running around.” Loki comments. You deflated a bit but Thor looked even more disappointed. So you held your tongue, still agreeing to go with Thor, and waved goodbye to Loki, promising to see him later.

***

The next few weeks were spent as the last few, except now most attendees of Odin were running around in a buzz, setting up for the Jul feast. You and Loki had both seemingly decided not to acknowledge whatever it was that was happening before Thor had interrupted you both. Loki had assured you that he’d take care of your attire for the feast, so you had nothing to worry about other than learning Asgardian dances so as not to make a fool of yourself.

More often than not, it was Sif or Brunnhilde who took the time to teach you. Loki and Thor were getting pulled into meetings and off-world visitations with Odin, leaving you to the girls and Warriors Three. You didn’t mind it so much. Brunnhilde was certainly becoming a fast friend and who couldn’t like Volstagg? The others were still in the acquaintance category, though that was changing too.

The morning of the feast, you woke early (though there were no windows with which to really tell the time). You were a ball of nerves and as the day went on, they simply got worse. Loki was nowhere to be found in his chambers or the common areas you two shared. The guard outside the door (only one, since Loki wasn’t present) assures you he’d return to fetch you for the feast and that lunch would be brought to you. So you spent the majority of the afternoon into evening by yourself, fretting and pacing around, while occasionally trying to concentrate on practicing your magic.

You’re startled in the early evening when the main door flies open, Loki sweeping into a room with an armful of boxes.

“I’ve got your dress here, we’d better dress quickly, as my father is an impatient man and it will do us better to arrive fashionably on time rather than late.” Loki said this as he handed you a box. “I’d much rather wait and make a dramatic entrance, but alas.”

“Thanks,” You mumble, taking the box from him. It was quite heavy.

“I’ll have your shoes set out here whenever you’re done.” Loki’s voice followed you to your room. You shut the door softly behind you and then dumped the box on the bed, carefully pulling out the dress from within. The green fabric was a heavy velvet type, but soft and you hoped it wouldn’t be too warm. It wasn’t until you’d stripped and pulled the dress on that you’d realized the type of neckline it had.

“Loki!” You screech, all but stomping out of your room and into the common room. You hands held up the very low neckline and covered the expanse of chest and cleavage it left exposed. Loki’s door was slightly ajar and he poked his head around to look at you. A slow grin worked its way across his face. “I can’t wear this!”

“Obviously you can. Give me a moment to fully dress.” Loki disappeared back behind his door, though you could swear you heard him chuckling slightly.

You went back to the mirror in your room and examined yourself in the dress. The heavy velvet helped the dress lay in a flattering way across your body, down to the floor, though the long slit in the front made you nervous to walk. The bardot neckline would’ve been nice had it been an inch or so higher, but currently it showed off a little too much of your chest for you to be comfortable, especially considering the v-shaped notch in the front that showed off a hint of the skin between your breasts. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were just a thick band of the same velvet and surprisingly didn’t restrict your movement too much.

“Alright, what was the issue?” Loki called. You slowly trudged to the shared room, moving your arms back up to cover your chest. And you stilled in the doorway. Loki has always cleaned up nicely but you’d never seen him go all out in a suit and tie. It was a very modern, very Earth style outfit, all black except for the silky green shirt beneath the jacket (a green that nearly matched the color of your dress, you noted absentmindedly). He had smoothed his hair back so it lay across his shoulders but out of his face. As you looked him up and down, he did the same to you. “You’ve not even put on the shoes.”

Loki picked up a box near the couch before approaching you, opening it to reveal dainty and strappy golden heels. When you didn’t make a move to take them, he rolled his eyes with a slight smile on his face.

“You’re meant to put them on.” Loki said.

“I-I can’t bend over to put them on.” You said distractedly, eyes still lingering on his lean form. He huffed but tugged on your arm, leading you to the couch.

“Sit.” You did. You kept your arms covering your chest but almost dropped them in surprise when Loki knelt, slipping the shoes on your feet quickly and with ease. “There, now, up.” You stood shakily, though the heels proved to be sturdier than they appeared.

“I can’t wear this to the feast, Loki.” You repeated. Loki shook his head.

“And why not? I chose this style especially for you, picked out the fabric and everything.” Loki...was he pouting? “There’s no time for a new one to be made.”

“I didn’t need a special made dress. I would’ve stood out badly enough in a regular Asgardian dress. This is....too much. For me.” You almost reach out to him but at the last minute remember what your hands are covering. The small movement catches Loki’s gaze and he frowns again, nearly unnoticeable but there. He reaches out slowly, taking both of your wrists in his hands.

His eyes seek yours, anticipating you to stop him, but you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to do so. If there’s anyone is this realm you trust, it’s Loki.He pulls your hands away from your chest, bringing them down between the two of you. His eyes sweep across your figure and you can’t stop the heat rising to your face, your ears.

“Just a moment, dear.” Loki disappears into his room for just a moment before emerging again, something cradled in his hands. He pockets it before pulling your hair up and away from your neck , though if he makes it stay with pins or magic, you aren’t sure. Then from his pocket he pulls out the necklace he’d fetched from his room. It’s all dainty gold chain, except for the large emerald colored jewel hanging in the center.

You shiver as his hands go around your neck, fastening the necklace. It sits heavily along your chest, the many loops of chains almost tickling your skin. The stone sits nicely just above the middle of your breasts, a large shimmering stone that complemented the dress nicely. When Loki didn’t remove his hands, you finally gain the courage to look up at him. His gaze lingers a moment longer on your chest before meeting your gaze. He almost looks tinged rosy himself but he offers a soft smile and steps back.

“There. Perfection in mortal form.” Loki smiles at his work and, yes, it is a beautiful outfit, but you are still distracted with the amount of skin you’re exposing. “Any more unnecessary complaints?”

“No.” You mumble. Loki was not going to let you change, you’d finally accepted that. “Loki, are you really wearing an Earth suit? To an Asgardian feast?”

“I thought it looked quite fetching, and judging by your staring earlier, I would assume you did as well.” You shot him an unamused and slightly blushing look. “Besides, I am one of the royals Princes, and Gods know Thor never looks the part.” You snort at that, shaking your head.

“They’re gonna stare, so much.” You whine. Loki smiles.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

***

“You look ready to die.” Brunnhilde says as she sidles up to you. You nearly jump out of your skin, your drink sloshing almost out of the glass.

“No one is talking to me, no one has asked me to dance.” You hiss at her. You’d watched as the evening wore on and many people had approached the other women for dances. Loki and Thor had been swept into the political meet-and-greets so you’d been sitting mostly alone, save for the few times Brunnhilde or Sif had stopped to check on you. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, you can blame Loki for no one trying to dance with you, you know.” Brunnhilde said. At your confused look she sighed and pointed at your necklace. It glimmered even in the dim room and seemed to swirl with magic. “That necklace is like a land claim. He’s using it to warn other men to stay away from you.”

“What?” You reach up to handle the stone, which was warm to the touch. You frown at the idea of Loki’s possessiveness and try to unhook it from your neck. Your fingers scramble against the back of the necklace but find no purchase: there was no way to remove it.

“To be fair,” Brunnhilde continues, sipping her drink, “You do look incredible in that dress. I can’t blame him for wanting to keep you to himself.” You clumsily excuse yourself from her company, heading straight for an empty balcony. You needed the fresh air, to breath. You stood out there for who knows how long before you sensed a presence behind you.

“Are you out here hiding?” Loki asked, joining you at the railing. You turn to him with a furrowed brow.

“No, not that it matters. No one in there would speak with me anyway.” You say and a confused look crosses his face, before you jab your finger towards the necklace around your neck. The confused look fades into almost a sheepish look but that too quickly disappears.

“I suppose Brunnhilde told you what it implies? I saw the two of you speaking.”

“Yes, she did tell me. Unlike you.” You cross your arms. The movement causes Loki to glance down and his eyes linger on your gilded chest. Realizing this, you quickly uncross your arms. You poke him in the chest. “Quit, just- Stop staring!”

“My apologies, it can be hard to look away from an image so tantalizing.” Loki curls his hand around the one you’d used to poke him. He didn’t let it go, simply held on to it, connecting the two of you.

“Stop teasing me.” You huff.

“How am I teasing? I am stating the truth.” He says it simply.

“Loki,” You start but nearly choke on the feeling of your heart in your throat. Why is it that Loki, that liking Loki, can make you so nervous?

“Yes, ástin mín?” You pause, taken aback by the use of the Asgardian language.

“What? What does that mean?” You ask. Loki sighs, not out of impatience or annoyance but as if to steel himself.

“I recognize I have perhaps been unfair to you, Y/N.” Loki says, his thumb lightly rubbing the one of yours that he is holding. “I had you wear the necklace for myself, not for you. I reasoned that it would protect you from untoward advances, thought it didn’t cross my mind you might would have wanted the attention.”

“I’m-what? No, no, I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with other people in there.” You shake your head. “I just felt like no one wanted to have anything to do with me because I’m an outsider.”

“I’m sorry that I am the cause of you feeling such a way. Might you forgive me?” Loki asks. You smile but smile meekly up at him.

“Only if you tell me what you called me a minute ago.” You say. Loki stills.

“Ask of me anything else and I’ll oblige.” Loki says. He keeps his eyes down, away from you. He tries to pull his hand from you but you hold on tighter to him.

“Nothing you could say could make me leave, Loki.” You say, sounding confident despite your nerves. “You could call me an old hag and I’d still...You’d still be my favorite person.”

“You would still?” Curse Loki and his unwavering attentiveness. You shake your head, unable to say the words. Loki’s expression lifts, a slight smile curling across his features. He takes one step towards you, then another, until there is barely any space between you.

“If you would stop me,” Loki says, his voice almost a whisper as he leans closer to you, “Do so now, before I cannot stop myself.” You say nothing.

The kiss is soft at first, a tentative touch. Loki was waiting for you to stop him, you realize. To refuse him. You reach up with your free hand and grasp his lapel lightly. It’s a light touch but it's enough for him to feel and understand. He drops the hand of yours he had been holding so he could bring both of his hands to your face, cradling your face between his hands as he pulls away just slightly from you.

The look on Loki’s face is an extraordinary one. All of his armor had fallen away and you were finally seeing him as he wanted to be. He was unguarded and looking at you as if you were the only source of warmth he’d found in decades.

“Ástin mín. It means my love.” You can’t help but stare at Loki at those words, heart pounding in your chest. Even as your heart stutters, you tug on his jacket, tugging him back to you.

This kiss is more heated, less slow. Loki’s hands still curl around your face, sliding into your hair and pulling you ever closer. You loop your arms around his neck, thankful for the heels that boost your height just enough to do so without stretching terribly far. The kiss is needy, as Loki pulls you impossibly close to him.

“Excuse me, sire.” The two of you part at the words, Loki barely tilting his head to look towards the guard.

“What is it?” Loki asks, bitingly. He hands dropped from your face to your hips, still holding you near him.

“Your father says that your presence is being missed.” The guard speaks uneasily, obviously unnerved by Loki’s glare.

“My father can wait. Now, leave us.” Loki orders. The guard does not hesitate to scramble back inside. Loki looks back to you, with an amused look on his face. “Do you even see what you’re doing?”

“What?” You look around and see magic orbs of yellow floating around the two of you, swirls of the same magic wrapping around the two of you. “Oh, my god.”

“Feeling-based magic is a bit of a giveaway, is it not?” Loki teases softly and you bury your head into his chest, groaning in embarrassment. He laughs lightly, a laugh you’ve so rarely heard. “I cannot complain, I suppose. It is gratifying to see the reaction I cause within you.”

“You are going to be so insufferable.” You mumble into his chest. You sense the smile on his face and end up smiling yourself when you feel him plant a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I suppose we’d better head back to the feast, before my father sends Thor after us. That’s not a conversation I feel particularly up to. And if we’re lucky, we’ll sneak away early.”

#loki x reader #mcu reader insert #mcu imagines #loki x you #loki imagine #loki oneshot

[whispering-about-loki]

A Little theory regarding the Loki series

Warning! Image-heavy!

I am going to preface this by saying that this won’t happen. Well, maybe it won’t. Most of it won’t. Maybe some of it will. So SPOILER warning, in case it does. 

I’ll put some of my thought process in a note at the end.

---------

After Loki is arrested and brought before court to be charged for his part in certain time crimes, Mobius M. Mobius takes him “somewhere to talk”. He shows Loki snippets of how his life would have gone if he hadn’t skipped out with the Tesseract, then he tells him that he needs his help. Someone has been causing changes throughout history, making a myriad of variant timelines. Mobius believes that someone is taking advantage of their position in the TVA to cause this chaos; but his superiors refuse to believe that any of their ranks would behave in such a manner. So Mobius figures that if you want to handle chaos, you need to embrace chaos, and without consulting his superiors about it, he offers the God of Mischief a deal: help him find and bring back the rogue agent, and Loki will get his freedom. 

It is, of course, against the rules; but Mobius is willing to bend the rules a bit, if it means ending the time incidents. Loki agrees, thinking he will be able to use the situation to escape. But Mobius understands Loki’s thought process and warns him that if he strays from his assignment, he will be brought right back to the TVA. Loki being Loki, though, does try to skip out; but after he is zipped right back to the TVA a couple times, he doesn’t try it again.

Loki then does what he agreed to, slipping through time with Mobius and looking for the cause of the chaos. Disconcertingly, though, Loki’s power and strength begin to diminish, to the point where simple attacks he should have been able to easily counter are enough to take him down. Mobius says he doesn’t know why it is happening.

After a while Mobius's superiors suspect he is up to something, so he begins sending Loki out on his own, staying behind at the TVA to keep the others off his trail. Loki still doesn't like being in someone's "servant", and he resents being kept on such a tight temporal leash; but he continues reporting back to Mobius. While on assignments, Loki occasionally ends up preventing disasters that the “Agent of Chaos” had set in motion; though he also can’t help but make some “small” changes to the timeline, himself.

Mobius tells him to be more careful, or he might cause unforeseen effects. When Loki scoffs at this, Mobius asks him if he wants to see the world where he “won” the battle of New York. Mobius doesn’t wait for Loki’s answer, but immediately ships Loki off to an apocalyptic-looking New York City. When Loki gets there, the air is cold to the point where he can see his own breath, and it is utterly silent. A result, it appears, of not only the Chitauri attack, but of the bomb that the Humans used to try to wipe out the invading army. Apparently, the only ones that got wiped out were the Humans -- Avengers and all.

Loki wanders around the desolation for a while, until he is at last found by a roving group of ragged men. They seem to recognize him and he is brought to the leader of the city, who happens to be himself. Boss-Loki has gone a bit around the bend, though. He has been stuck in this place for years since the attack, and has carved himself out a little “kingdom” in the ruins, based in an old arcade. Our Loki is shocked and almost disgusted to see how far he has fallen. When Boss-Loki’s men turn on him because of this other Loki’s presence, though, our Loki gets caught up in the fighting. He calls out to Mobius that he has made his point, and to get him out of there.

Loki goes on doing his “job” then, being more careful with time. At long last, he finds a strange object at the scene of one of the chaotic events, and he brings it back to Mobius, who recognizes it as something he had taken from one of the young agent recruits, a girl named Sylvie. Mobius explains that some of the agents in the TVA are clones (like himself), but that some are recruited at a young age by the TVA because they show special abilities. Sometimes these recruitments occur from outside the main timeline, which is where they found Sylvie. Not only was she a gifted individual, but the TVA records showed that she should not have existed in the first place; so they took her in to train her, and also so that her presence would not disrupt the flow of time. 

Mobius and Loki go to confront her in her room, but she is gone. Mobius feels responsible because it was he that “recruited” Sylvie. Additionally, he knew that she had a habit of slipping through time on “joy rides” and coming back with souvenirs, which was strictly against the rules. She always seemed innocent, though, so he went easy on her about it. Hidden in a drawer in her room, they find other “souvenirs”, and Loki notes that some of them have Asgardian runes on them. Mobius says that Sylvie is human, according to her genetic code, so he doesn’t understand what she is doing with the runes. 

As they ponder the meaning of this, an alarm sounds in the TVA headquarters, and they know something terrible is happening in some variant timeline. They leave Sylvie’s room to try to get to the portals to take them to the time-incident; but on the way, some TVA agents try to stop them. They claim that Loki is the rogue element that has been causing all of the chaos, and that he needs to be “erased” as soon as possible. 

Mobius pretends to be on the agents' side, then sets them off-guard so Loki can get to the scene of chaos. After fighting his way through the Minutemen that are guarding the portals, Loki arrives when/where Sylvie is--at a quarry mine--the moon is shattered and the fragments are falling to the Earth. 

Loki runs to get to safety, and the ground opens up as the mine before him collapses, blocking him off from the now-adult Sylvie, who is staring up at the falling moon. She turns and looks at him just as the ground completely falls out from underneath him.

Suddenly the world around him stills and he lands hard on the ground. He struggles to his feet and looks up to see that everything has frozen around him. As he is standing there, gaping in disbelief, he turns and sees Sylvie standing beside him. She is wearing clothing very similar to his old Asgardian outfit, and she is smiling at the destruction and chaos before them.

“Hello, Father,” she says. “Have I made you proud?”

-------

-------

Notes: 

SPOILERS below.

My main thought was that since Cailey Fleming is listed as playing “Young Sylvie”, that would imply the presence of an older Sylvie. Otherwise, she would have been listed as “Sylvie”. Sylvie Lushton being the girl that Loki, in the comics, empowered and/or created, and who later became a version of Enchantress. 

That is who I think Sophia Di Martino is playing as an adult, rather than Lady Loki, like I used to think. Her hair is the wrong color to be Loki, for one thing; and she has been shown filming in the same location as Tom Hiddleston, who was wearing an Agent outfit at the time. I’m not gonna put the set photos here, but you know the ones... the pictures where she is wearing just about the same outfit as Loki has in the past. And we know that this character is the one that is causing the chaos, because in those set photos she is wearing a certain pair of boots and fingerless gloves, both of which are freeze-frame bonusses on the “mystery figure” in the trailer (when she drops the lantern and lifts her hands to her hood).

I’d also like to point out that she is wearing what appears to be a sword on her hip:

Anyway, I figure it goes something like this: 

Sylvie exists because another version of Loki had adopted her when he discovered that she had talents close to his own. He had begun training her how to use magic; but he was not so good a teacher as Frigga was, and the training was complicated by her wily and independent nature. Loki in that timeline died, though, leaving Sylvie alone. 

The TVA (specifically, Mobius) took her in, but because of her abilities, she was naturally able to slip through time, create illusions, age herself up and down, etc. Eventually, she decided she would “make her father proud” by sowing chaos. The thing is, she has grown stronger and more chaotic since Loki showed up at the TVA, because she has been inadvertently drawing his power and life force from him -- basically depowering him to charge herself up (c’mon... he gets laid out by a Roomba...). In fact, the draining of his life-force was what killed her “father” in her own timeline, though she didn’t know it.

Additionally (and on another note), the Loki series is said to be a “crime thriller” with sci-fi aspects; so while Loki tracking down a rogue time-agent seems to be a pretty straightforward idea, it could be given a nice twist at the end by having the rogue element not be an agent, but someone of Loki’s own making. And it would be one hell of a cliffhanger for the next season.

And... that’s all I got for now.

#loki #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki series spoilers #marvel

[franeridart]

Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the “reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it’s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha

#fran answers #oh two of these are Long #..... #long post #in case the readmore doesn't work for whatever reason

[gentrychild]

adlhfahdkjfh so this’ll likely be really Long which is why I’m submitting instead of sending an ask but I just read through your Suspected Traitor!Izuku AU and I have some Thoughts. I’m sorry for the rambely-ness this’ll likely be ahead of time.

—

So as much as I love the whole ‘Izuku gets away from UA and tries to heal from all the betrayal’ thing y'all have going on I can’t help but think about what would happen if he didn’t. So this’ll be more an 'au of a au’ thing.

Izuku is a child who has been betrayed all his life. From his classmates and teachers to his childhood friend to the very society itself turning it’s back on him, Izuku has been beaten down again and again. And he’s been told that it’s his own fault. He’s the one that’s quirkless, after all, right? He’s the one that was born into a society where this power you’re born with is everything and he was born with nothing.

And everyone around him only reinforces this mindset, he is bullied relentlessly, his is told he’s a 'deku’ - something worthless, something mindless, useless, a dud in a society of fireworks. He is small and skinny so very weak in everyone’s eyes and they all claim that it is his own fault. The most vocal of them do, at least. Bakugou even uses his quirk on him- something that could very easily cause lasting damage- that could kill Izuku if Bakugou lost even a little bit of restraint.

And gods do I refuse to believe that Bakugou and other bullies haven’t left scars on Izuku- it’s so easy, after all, for someone in the heat of the moment to forget that their quirks can be dangerous, deadly.

And here’s the thing: how many times do you have to be told by everyone, everything, in the world you live in that you are worthless before you start to believe it, just a little bit? How many times do you have to call a child a freak, creepy, a stalker before they start to believe that? 

How many times do you have to tell a child that it is all their own fault before they begin to believe that that is the truth?

Everyone says it, afterall, so it must be true.

right?

And this, this right here, is where I believe All Might comes in. All Might, who sees this small, weak, quirkless child(just like him, a part of him may whisper, I was just like him) and wants to stop him, beg him to not choose a career in which everyone around him will want to tear him apart.

And so he does. No, he says, sad and desperate and constantly in pain, no, you cannot be a hero.

And he is tired, and he is sad, and he leaves. He thinks that is the end of it. He will never see that small, weak, quirkless child again.

But the Sludge Villain has escaped and he does- he sees that boy again, he sees that charging in to save another, with no regards to what he should be doing(staying back and quiet and let the heroes watch as a child suffocates and dies because none of them have the right quirks to get him out) and he actually manages to make a difference.

And Izuku reminds All Might of himself, all the way down to how he just wants to protect people, even when they’ve done nothing to protect him, and so All Might, after taking care of the villain, goes and finds this boy and he says, with full confidence, you can be a hero.

And it’s a breath of fresh air for Izuku, for this young boy who has been told all his life that he will amount to nothing, that his destiny as nothing is set in stone. It’s someone, for once in life, telling him that his dream, his desire to help, can come true.

And so they start training, and All Might keeps coming back to him, and he finds himself thinking maybe things can change, maybe things can be different. Maybe I can be a hero.

Izuku gets into UA, he proves himself. He gets his Provisional Licence. His class gets attacked by villains, sure, and they get hurt, Izuku gets hurt, breaks his bones over and over again until he risks losing the ability to use his arms, but in the end? When all is said and done? All Izuku can think is that it’s so damn worth it. 

Even if he’s stuck in class with Bakugou, who’s getting better and Izuku will never stop being grateful for that, it’s still worth it because he’s going to be a hero. His teacher is strict but he’s just, he gets to see All Might on a regular basis, and he has friends.

It’s different, everything is so very different, and Izuku is so so happy.

And then Izuku forgets one of his notebooks in the classroom.

He doesn’t think anything of it. It’s the weekend- he’ll just get back on Monday. It wasn’t like he was planning on doing any analysis anyway- this weekend was time for him to relax, time to put away his hobby and training for just a little bit and relax with the few people still in the dorms for the weekend. 

Surely Aizawa-sensei won’t mind?

(but he does, and he sees what’s in that notebook, and his blood runs cold.

He’s found their traitor.)

Monday comes and while Izuku thinks he left his notebook in the classroom it’s not there when he looks, so maybe he put it somewhere else? He’s not too worried, long having relaxed in UA, but a part of him does claw and hiss at the idea of someone getting their hands on it- after all, what if they destroy it? He’s had that happen to him far too often for him to ever fully relax when he doesn’t know exactly where they are.

The week passes as normal and he’s starting to get nervous, because his notebook hasn’t popped up yet, he can't find it and what if someone took it? What if someone took it and set it on fire or flushed it down the toilet or tore it up or-

Friday comes and Izuku is held back from class.

He thinks nothing of it because it happens often- happens to all them ever since the villain attacks and while nothing has happened this week, Izuku guesses that sensei must have noticed how distracted he’s been and maybe he wants to talk about that? He’s nervous, because he’s never been good with teachers, but he makes sure to not hunch his shoulders or pick at his hands or anything like that.

He’s nervous, but he’s going to be a hero and heroes work to not show their nerves.

But then he’s lead to the interrogation rooms. Rooms he only knows exist because of the sheer amount of times he’s been attacked and had to debrief on UA grounds.

His hands don’t shake, not yet, but it’s close.

They begin asking questions, questions that make his chest freeze over and his insides to squirm but he answers them truthfully. As truthfully as he can.

It’s twenty minutes in that he realizes why he’s there.

They think he’s a traitor- the traitor? He hasn’t figured out yet, if there would likely be more than one.

They think he’s a villain.

His world is spinning and spinning and spinning and suddenly it’s all coming crashing down.

Oh, he thinks, a numb sort of detachment flowing through. It was never real, was it?

The world could never really change.

But he doesn’t want to believe it, he really really doesn’t, so he tries to ignore it- to shove it away into the corner with all the other emotions and thoughts he doesn’t like to deal with. He keeps answering their questions, remains truthful through the entire thing even though all a part of him wants to do is scream, and he doesn’t let himself believe his thoughts.

Until they bring out his notebook.

Izuku lurches forward, he can’t help it. the handcuffs on the table don’t let him get far, but he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter in the face of his gut-wrenching relief.

He hadn’t lost it.

I thought I’d lost that, and where was it, and thank you so much for finding it Sensei, all spill from his lips and he can’t help his small, relieved smile because his notebook was right there and not at all damaged and he opens his mouth, ready to release a torrent of apologies and thank you’s but-

Aizawa-sensei’s eyes are still cold.

The interrogation continues and Izuku is forced to accept that his teachers believe him a villain.

They use his notebooks- his writings he’d scribbled out to help, because that’s all he’s ever wanted to do- and they force him to face the fact that they were creepy and stalkerish and horrible.

Izuku feels sick.

It’s hours, by the time they bring in Tsukauchi-san. He asks the same questions. Izuku answers the same answers.

He keeps a smile on his face, because he knows that Tsukauchi-san will confirm everything as truth and he can go back to the dorms and sleep. It feels shaky and fake but he smiles and Tsukauchi-san looks like he might just want to smile back.

True, the lie detector detective says at the end. He’s telling the truth.

Izuku is allowed to go back to the dorms. The teachers apologize, sort of. It was necessary, they tell him, logical. You understand, don’t you?

Izuku nods. He smiles.

They give him back his notebook.

Izuku feels sick looking at it.

When he gets back to his dorm room, he destroys all of them.

They were creepy, after all, they stalkerish and creepy and he was a creep for writing them and the teacher had said so and they were heroes so they must be right.

Right?

And a part of Izuku wants to be angry at it all, wants to be hurt and angry and betrayed but.

They’d thought he was a villain. Heroes had thought he was a villain.

So he must have been doing something wrong. Was he not working enough? Not doing enough? Was he socializing too much? Was he just too much of a freak for the hero course? 

And so, instead of getting angry, of being hurt and betrayed and getting him out of the place that hurt him, Izuku stays because it was heroes that had accused him of being a traitor, of trying to hurt his classmates, so he must of been doing something wrong.

It must have been his fault.

right?

(and so, here, instead of having their mistakes shoved back in their faces as Izuku leaves, the teachers have to realize, slowly, that what they did, the accusations they threw out in the heat of the moment, have mistakes far more damaging than they ever thought possible. 

Because Izuku is a boy that has been taught from the young age of four that everything that happens to him, everything that others do to him, is all his own fault. And so, when heroes believe he is a villain, when they accuse him of being a traitor, that must be his fault too, right?

And so the teachers have to watch, from the sidelines, as this boy they accused goes out and begins to break himself again and again, because, after all, if he doesn’t want to be seen as a villain, as creepy or stalkerish, he has to work harder.

Right?

He has to prove that he’s good, that he’ll do anything to save someone else, to protect someone else, because that’s what a hero does and all Izuku has ever wanted to be was a hero.)

#Ouch #That one hurts a little bit #suspected traitor Izuku AU #submission

[anonymous-swiftie]

If you are on twitter, please retweet this:

https://twitter.com/ASwiftie00/status/1334245577933148164?s=19

Dear #Swifties,

I'm new on tumblr, and I really don't know how to use it.

I know you are the best supporters of the music industry and I'm here to ask your help.

I'm fighting with a crippling depression, that due this covid situation just got worse.

I'm at my lowest, I truly don't know if I will make it through this time.

I always dreamed to talk to Taylor, since I was a teenager. She is the only one that make me feel like I do fit in this world.

I've created this account because I know she is very active here, and I'm trying to reach her with this part of my story.

You can read everything below.

I didn't write any personal information because I don't want this to be seen by my family or somebody that can recognise me.

I don't want upset anyone.

I know that everyone hope to meet or chat with her, and so you are probably wondering why you have to share this here.

You're totally right, maybe it's a stupid idea to ask you this, but I haven't anything left in my pocket to fight this situation, and you're my only hope right now.

Thank you.

#taylor #swift

*******************************************

Dear Taylor,

I keep writing and deleting this, over and over again.

I feel so dumb to write my personal story here, but this truly is my last chance to feel better and try to overcome this giant monster called depression.

I genuinly don't know if I can make it through this year. It's the worst period of my entire life and i don't even know if it's worth living this hell anymore.

I know you have millions of supporters (that probably write you every single day, and they are all better fans than I am, that's for sure) but I know that you proved, time after time, to be so down to earth and to use your time to read your fans messages.. so, in this moment, I'm just trying to share a part of my story with you.

You are the one that make feel understood, since I was like 13teen.

I'm so sorry if my English isn't very good but I'll do my best.

I'm not very active on social media , because I'm very shy when I have to talk about myself.. but If this could work, I must do it.

I will try to send a letter, If I can find the strength to mark this feeling on paper.

**IF I'M WRITING TO SOMEBODY FROM HER STAFF, PLEASE JUST LET THIS MESSAGE REACH TAYLOR**

I'll try now to resume, because I don't want to bother you too much.

This has been a crazy year so far, and the all the time I spent by myself during the lockdown didn't help at all.

This situation brought me back to childhood.

I spent a lot of my days back and forth in hospitals, due to my allergies.

I had to wear a mask all the time I wanted to go outside to avoid severe allergic reaction (that's why this Covid thing awakened some hurting memories)

I didn't have real friends back then, 'cause I've spent most of the summers at home, watching other kids playing around, from my window, or from the windows of my classroom.

It was so hard to make new friends, because the only thing that other kids saw was my mask.

I was the masked kid.

I was the strange kid.

I couldn't play with them.

Everytime I tried to play with them, the only thing I heard was "oh you are ill , I don't wanna be like you so stay away".

This situation made me start to write things in my personal diary.

I wrote small sentences, as a kid, and that was the only thing I could do alone inside an empty classroom during all summer.

This situation continued  for many years.

I wasn't the cool kid before, I wasn't the cool guy after.

The only things that let me enjoy those days were writing and listening to your songs.

I started to listen to your music thanks to my English teacher. She was a fan of folk and country music and she gave me a pic in which you were singing near a lake (I still have that photo somewhere, I strongly remember the white banner with your name written in red on it) and told me to listen to the cd she gave me that day.

I immediately fell in love (I think I still have a crush on you, I'm sorry).

I loved your album. I loved your voice. I loved the lyrics.

I remember having a "test" in school: each one of the class had to write their favourite lyrics and let the others guess the song.

If the someone guessed It, We could play the cd.

I chose Love Story and I translated it in Italian.

The class guessed the song, and I played it.

After the lunch break I went back to my desk and I saw some bullies that were breaking my cd-album and they started to laugh at me because I loved your music an I loved writing poems.

I was a boy so I was a loser because I enjoyed those things.

That felt terrible, but I continued to love your songs even more .

Those were my inspiration to write and to study english.

I felt so good when I listened to your album and this still happens.

Then I went to a private high-school.

Nothing changed, I still was the nerd guy that always got good grades and I have to say that the first year was quite good, but the second year was the start of the apocalypse.

I choose that school because two girls that I knew from childhood went there.

One of the cool new guys started to spread a fake "news" about me.

He said to everyone that I was the boyfriend of one of the two girls that I mentioned before.

So he was the cool guy and one of the girls believed him and told me to f*** myself.

The other girl was her best friend, so you could imagine by what happened next.

After 14 year spent together, I was nobody.

I didn't have "friends" in that class anymore.

I didn't say hello to anybody for 4 years, and nobody would say anything to me.

Nobody to talked with me.

That's great when you're a teenager.

I hated to wake up every morning.

I had an eating disorder, I lost like 22pounds in less than a month. Got hospitalized twice. I kept vomiting for 3 years, every single morning before school.

During that time I only talked with one of my cousins, who lived like 2 hours by car from me.

He was older than me but he always tried to help.

He knew that I loved to write poems so he started to give me guitar lessons.

I made it through a lot of things thanks to him.

I'm sorry, It's hard for me to write this part of the story.

I still get emotional when I think about this.

On the 10TH of December 2013 (some days after his birthday) we received a phone call from his mother: She warned us that he didn't return home after the last working shift.

I wrote a message to him like 3 hours prior to that phone call.

Never had the opportunity to get a reply again.

This year is the seventh year that he is missing.

That destroyed me.

I felt empty.

I felt like nothing couldn't help me.

I still feel that everytime I care about someone in my life, it will disappear someday.

This have happened several other times.

You know when ignorants say that men don't cry, is real bullshit. Men cry. I cried a lot.

I wrote so many poems , lyrics, thoughts in that period of time, that I destroyed my hands.

That was the only way to close my eyes and let me reach another reality because the real one was way too much for me.

Be a sensible man in this world is somehow a curse.

All these things made me afraid  even to hug someone 'cause I feel I'm too ugly or just to scared to be refused.

I will stop here my story, but there's so much more to tell.

I make it through all of these things and memories because I keep dreaming that one day I could meet you and we could talk together.

Dreaming about the fact I could spend a day with you made me find the power to battle my depression.

I'm 25 now and this year I'm not dreaming anymore.

I was going to start again university, I wanted to get a degree in marketing and have the chance to live in the us.

For years I believed that I would make it and hopefully be part of your marketing team.

I'm so stupid. All these years I kept dreaming to avoid pain.

I wanted to pursue my passion and continue to write lyrics but all I was doing was putting myself in unrealistic realities.

This covid situation made everything clear.

When everyone had someone to facetime (or video call) I was alone.

When everyone had someone asking them "how are you?" I only had myself looking in the mirror saying: "Will I ever feel better?"

I've never been the one for anybody, and I think I'll never be.

I won't be the one among all your fans to realize his dream.

Nobody likes me, and I'm exposing myself once again just because I want the opportunity to smile at something that could happen to me.

I'm tired to smile only for others best moments.

I've always seen the sun through a window.

I want to feel happy.

I want to burn my face with the sun.

I'm so sick of hiding my pain,

sick to cry when I'm alone in my car before going to work,

sick to let my eyes rain on my pillow every night.

I'm sick to say to my mother that I'm fine, just because I don't want to make her feel bad.

It's not her fault.

She is battling with a degenerative autoimmune disease, why I should put other weight on her shoulders?

I didn't give up to my weakness before because I don't want to hurt her.

I always say to her that soon she will feel better, that's why your song It's stuck in my head.

But when she won't be here anymore, how I can go through all of that?

I don't even know if will ever get better for me.

Will this pain ever stop?

Sometimes it's so hard to live and so easy to die.

Hope that my dream to spend some time with you can become true.

Thank you for everything, you gave me the strength to go on for many years.. But this time is so hard to put on my armor and continue this battle.

But is this even worth if thy I try to surround myself with people and I always feel lonely?

D.

@taylorswift @taylornation @jackleopards-thedolphinclub

#swifties #taylor swift #folkore #music #ts spoilers #lover taylor swift #taylornation #swiftified13 #day 13 #pop music #books and libraries #writers #history #musicians #quotes #loneliest #love taylor #hopes and dreams

[jawabear]

Online Match (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: this was suggested but the lovely @bensolobutterflies who suggested about Marcus falling for Missy’s teacher. And this is such a Marcus trope so I had to do it! I hope this is acceptable. I got a little political about teacher somewhere in the middle but hopefully it’s not too bad. The messaging parts might be laid out a little weirdly. I didn’t really know how else to lay it out but I tired to make it decent? Again, I used Spanish but I don’t speak it so it may be wrong. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, Marcus being a soft boy, Missy and Anita being match makers, nerves, just whole lotta fluff

Summary: When Missy signs him up for online dating, Marcus wonders whether the girl he really likes will be on there too...

The first time he had met her, it was her first week. She had hosted a parents meeting, not just do discuss the wellbeing of the children she taught but to introduce herself to the parents.

Now Marcus wasn’t one who believed his love at first sight. He had always said that you don’t fall in love with someone before you even know them. But when he first saw (Y/N), he fell deeper than he ever had before.

Perhaps it was just his want to be with some that was lurking deep deep inside him that caused him to fall for her so quickly. Or maybe it was because she just seemed so...perfect. Everything about her was just perfect. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her smile, the way she spoke, the way she dressed. All of it was just perfect. And he liked her. A lot.

But he thought it would be complicated. Dating his daughters teacher was sure to come with complications. No doubt there was a rule against it somewhere. Most likely he would come out okay, but he didn’t want to risk her possibly loosing her job. Not that he would ever admit his feelings for her. He wasn’t brave enough to jump back into the dating pool. Although both Missy and his mother had been hounding him about it for months now.

They had both noticed how lonely he seemed. Of course he would always say that he didn’t need anyone so long as he had them, but they both knew he needed someone. He needed to start dating again. Missy was making that very clear to him.

“So Dad, I was thinking that we sign you up for online dating” she said nonchalantly as she munched on her dinner. Marcus nearly chocked on his coffee at her words.

“Missy” he said, wiping his mouth to ensure no coffee had spilled “have you and Abuela been discussing this again?”

“We’re just trying to make sure your happy, Dad. You deserve someone to love and someone who loves you back”

“I have you, honey” he smiled “I love you”

“I love you too. But seriously. You deserve someone. You’ve had to be both dad and mum. It would be good to split it” Marcus didn’t respond to this, so Missy carried on “so, we signed you up for online dating”

“You what?” He almost yelled.

“We signed you up for online dating” she repeated. “Here” she grabbed his phone from his hand and went about downloading the dating app do his phone. He watched in interest as she signed him in. “See”

“Why would you do that?”

“Maybe this will be a bit easier for you to get back into dating instead of doing it the old fashioned way of actually going out and talking to people. I mean, get with the times dad”

“The last time I dated someone, going out and talking to people were the times” he chuckled as he took his phone back. “It’s getting late Missy” he said looking at the time on his phone “hurry and finish your food” he told her. He stood and took his now empty coffee mug over to the sink and washed it out before placing it on the side.

It wasn’t long before she had finished and brought her plate over to the sink, he could clean it tomorrow. “Up to bed” he told her whilst rustling her hair. She sighed and dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom.

Marcus headed upstairs a short while later and peaked his head into her room to see she was just getting into her bed “you got everything you need?” He asked her. She nodded in response “okay. Night Missy”

“Night Dad” she yawned before rolling over and pulling the covers over her. He pulled her door shut and made his way to his own room, where he stripped off his shirt and jeans and grabbed his pyjamas bottoms and slipped those in before climbing into his bed.

Try as he might, sleep never seemed to come easy to Marcus. He tossed and turned for ages and still sleep didn’t come. Even when it would, it would last long. He was a light sleeper thanks to his job as a Heroic. He was quick to give up on trying to get to sleep and reached for his phone instead. Hoping that somehow that could make his tired.

Marcus lay in bed holding his phone staring at his profile on this dating app that he had been signed up too. He had to admit, they did a good job at making it. It definitely did show his best features, but it wasn’t like people didn’t know who he was. But it showed perhaps a more unknown side of him.

Even so, most of the people who messaged him only really did because he was the Leader of the Heroics. He wasn’t about that. He didn’t want to be with someone just because of his title. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted someone who would like him for him.

Marcus bit his lip as he thought. He wondered. Wondered if (Y/N) would be on there. It wouldn’t hurt to check right? There’s no harm in just seeing if she was in there. But he hesitated. He thought it was a little weird. But it wasn’t like he would have to message her if she were on there.

He bit the bullet and searched her name. Surprisingly to him, there were actually quite a few on there. He scrolled down and down looking at each profile for her. He wasn’t holding on to much hope that she was on there, but she was. The second to last profile was her. He clicked on it and was put into a trance by her profile picture. It was a sweet picture of her with what he guessed was her dog. He didn’t know she had a dog. Not that that was a problem. He loved dogs.

His thumb hovered over the chat icon on his screen. He debated with himself for a solid minute about whether he should message her. Would it be weird? It was late, she would probably be asleep. But he could say hi. Right?

So he did. He wasn’t exactly sure how he managed to do it. The few seconds it took him to type out his message of ‘Hi (Y/N)’ and send it just seemed to be a moment of black in his memory.

“Shit” he swore audibly. He messed about trying to figure out how to delete the message but he couldn’t. “Shit shit shit” he whispered sharply as he sat up and threw his phone to the foot of his bed in embarrassment.

He buried his head in his hands, filled with instant regret. How would he be able to face her now? Surely she would hate him. Think he was weird. Now he would never have a chance with her.

A soft ding came from his phone to indicate he had a notification. To be honest, at first, he didn’t twig that it could’ve been from her. He just assumed it was from something else. But when he looked at his phone he saw it was a notification from the dating app.

She had replied.

(Y/N): Hi Marcus. This is a surprise

What did that mean? Was she happy he messaged her? Was she just being nice? Was he looking too deep into this? Yes, probably.

Marcus: a good surprise?

(Y/N): Yes. A good surprise :)

Marcus smiled at her message.

Marcus: it’s pretty late. Why are you still up?

(Y/N): I’m lesson planning

Marcus: lesson planning at 10:30?

(Y/N): a usual night for me. Why are you still up?

Marcus: I’m used to not sleeping. My job often required all nighters.

He felt like such a teenager. Staying up late talking to the girl he liked. They spoke all through the night. It was nice. He didn’t feel obliged to say anything particularly to her. They were just talking. Getting to know each other better from what they already did.

Marcus was smiling throughout the whole of their interaction and was wondering if she was doing the same. He wondered if she was as happy to be talking to him as he was talking to her.

She was.

She had completely abandoned her laptop for her phone. The lesson planning being forgotten. He was all she was thinking about. He was all she wanted to think about. Because he had reached out to her, she began to wonder if maybe he liked her back. Surly he must’ve right? Other wise he wouldn’t have messaged her in the first place.

Then she thought that he must’ve looked for her. She thought it was unlikely that she would just happen to pop up on his app. This made her heart flutter and she smiled brighter. Even though it was over messages, she hadn’t had as nice a conversation as that one in a very long time. She wasn’t the most sociable person, which made any one who knew her question as to why she became a teacher. She didn’t really have much of a life outside the classroom (so she matched the classics idea that students had about teachers).

They talked until gone midnight and Marcus decided to call it there for the night. He knew that she probably needed to rest before having to teach the next day. But he didn’t want to stop talking to her. He was really enjoying himself. But he had to be fair to her. Just because he couldn’t sleep, didn’t mean he had to stop her from sleeping too.

Marcus: it’s really late (Y/N). You should go to sleep.

(Y/N): I didn’t realise that was the time!

There was a slight pause before she messaged him again.

(Y/N): I really enjoyed talking to you Marcus. Like...really enjoyed it. It was nice to just talk.

He smiled brightly at this, knowing she felt the same about their conversation as he did made him happy.

Marcus: I’ve enjoyed it too (Y/N). I don’t really get the chance to just talk to people now really

There was another pause. This one was longer than the last and it made him a little anxious.

(Y/N): can we talk again tomorrow?

He had to hold back his cheer. His heart leapt with joy in his chest at her words. It didn’t seem anything extravagant really, but it meant she wanted to talk to him. Maybe she did like him back. It was now that he was kind of thankful that they weren’t talking face to face. He could hide his initial reaction from her.

Marcus: of course. I’d like that

(Y/N): I’d like that too. I better get some sleep. Goodnight Marcus.

Marcus: goodnight (Y/N)

Marcus dropped his phone to his chest and beamed up at the ceiling. He hadn’t felt that happy in a very very long time.

Over the next few week, they continued to talk. They got closer and closer. And they learnt more about each other with every message. And with every message, they feel more for each other. But if they saw each other in person, because of the school setting, they didn’t show that they had been talking.

But Missy was becoming suspicious of Marcus. He was on his phone a lot more often than usual. But any time she tried to ask what he was doing, he would always just say nothing and put his phone down.

And then the fateful day came where he finally asked her out. They had been talking throughout the day but Marcus thought it was time they actually move the growing relationship further. After all, that’s what the site was for.

Marcus: (Y/N). I’ve been thinking...

(Y/N): about what?

Marcus: well...This is a dating site. So would you want to go on a date with me? An actual date?

There was a long pause. A very long pause. Marcus’s heart sank. Maybe she didn’t want to go any further than a friendship. Had he made things awkward now? Had he completely ruined his chance with her?

(Y/N): Absolutely!! I’d love to go on a date with you Marcus! xx

The two kisses at the end made his cheeks burn slightly. He felt relief in his heard and went about making plans with her for their date. They decided on dinner. A classic first date. It wasn’t to anywhere overly fancy, god knows teachers don’t get paid enough to eat in fancy restaurants. They set a day and a time and Marcus couldn’t contain his excitement.

He couldn’t hide it from Missy anymore.

“Okay” she said annoyed, filing her arms as she stood in the kitchen door way as he leant on the counter next to the sink. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird. You’re way happier than normal. Tell me Dad”

Marcus turned to look at his daughter and set his phone down. “You really want to know?” He asked.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed.

“Alright. Fine” he drew in a deep breath and pushed himself up so he was standing up straight “I’ve...met someone”

“What?!” She beamed “you have? This is amazing! Is she nice? Is she pretty? Are you going on a day with her?”

“Yes, yes and yes” he said quietly “Friday. At 6. Will you be okay is Grandma comes and looks after you while I’m out?”

“Only if I get to meet your new girlfriend!”

“I wouldn’t say she’s my girlfriend just yet” Marcus laughed nervously “but she’s coming here first before we go, so yes, you will get to meet her. Just...don’t be...disappointed or weirded out by who it is”

“I won’t be! She must be something to make you keep smiling all the time! This is so awesome! I have to go tell Abuelita!”

“Wait you don’t have to-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before she had run off upstairs to call her grandma.

Marcus shook his head and looked back at his phone.

Marcus: Missy seemed pretty excited that I’ve got a date

(Y/N): did you tell her who it was? xx

Marcus: no. I wanted it to be a surprise. Do you want me to tell her?

(Y/N): I don’t mind. If you want to wait, it doesn’t bother me. I’m just excited for Friday!! xx

Marcus: I’m excited too. I’m so excited. I know it doesn’t really seem like it. But I’m still it very good at the whole technology thing

(Y/N): oh Marcus! You make yourself out to be so much older than you are! But I can tell you’re excited. Xx

(Y/N): I’ve got to go. But I’ll try and talk to you a little later xx

Marcus: okay x

The days between then and Friday seemed to drag on. The world just wanted to make them wait it seemed. They talked their nights away when they could, in hopes that would speed up the time. And then finally Friday evening rolled around. And Marcus was freaking out.

“You’ll be fine, mijo” Anita told her son in a knowing voice as she held up her hand to try and calm him as he messed with the sleeves of his shirt “when you see your beautiful date all your worries will fade away”

Marcus glanced up at her but then looked back down at his sleeves “Espero que tengas razón Mamá” (I hope you’re right, mama) he muttered.

“por supuesto que tengo razón! He estado mal antes” (of course I’m right! I’ve never been wrong before) Anita said almost proudly making Missy laugh quietly. This is turn cause Marcus to smile. But that smile fell when the doorbell rang.

Marcus’ face paled. Was it 6 already?

“Dad!” Missy called to him, pulling him from his trance. He looked at her and she motioned for him to head for the door. He stood abruptly and walked towards the door. He took in a deep breath before pulling it open to reveal (Y/N). She flashed him a bright smile and he looked her up at down to see she was wearing a long light blue dress. It wasn’t overly fancy but it looked beautiful.

“Hi Marcus” she said quietly.

“Hi...(Y/N)” he said slowly trying to regain his composure (not that he ever had it in the first place). “Y-You look amazing!”

“Thank you. I’m not too over dressed am I?” She asked looked down at the dress she had chosen.

“No, you’re fine. More than fine. Beautiful actually” he said quickly.

She blushed slightly at his compliment and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear “thank you Marcus” she said “you look nice too. Very handsome”

He couldn’t really say anything. He was too flustered. He let out a small noise and stepped to the side “come in. I um..I need to grab my jacket” she nodded and stepped inside his house, awkwardly following him as he walked into the kitchen.

She stumbled backwards a little when she saw Missy and his mother sat there. She had met Anita on a few occasions, she came to pick Missy up from school a few times. They both looked a little in shock to see her stood there whilst Marcus rooted around for his jacket.

“Miss (L/N)?!” Missy exclaimed.

“Hey Missy” (Y/N) said. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so nervous. It was just weird to be seeing her out of the school setting.

“It’s you? You’re the one my Dad is going on a date with?” She asked.

“Um...yes. I am” (Y/N) said. She looked over to Marcus who had managed to locate his jacket, slipping it on. “It’s not...weird...is it?”

“No!” Missy smiled “this is great! This is awesome! I knew it would be you!”

Both (Y/N) and Marcus let out quiet breaths of relief “she’s a beautiful girl Marcus. And I know she has a kind heart” Anita said with a gentle smile. (Y/N) felt Marcus’ hand on her lower back. The small action spread a comforting warmth through her body “now go! Have fun!”

Marcus briefly left (Y/N)’s side to kiss Missy’s head before walking (Y/N) back to the door. They left the house and he walked her to his car “well I think that went well” she said with a nervous laugh.

“It went better than I expected” he said “I thought she would be a little bit weirded out”

“Me too. But I’m glad she wasn’t. And I’m glad your mum took a liking to me too”

“I doubt anyone could not like you (Y/N)” she got in the passenger side of his car whilst he got in the drivers seat. “I, for one, like you. A lot”

“I like you too Marcus. A lot” she leaned over with the intention of kissing his cheek, but he turned at the last second making her lips land on his. That had to have been a scripted event. But neither of them was complaining. They both smiled into the kiss before she pulled back and pulled on her seatbelt.

“Shall we go?” He asked, an ear to ear grin on his face.

“Definitely”

10/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #fluff #pedro pascal #fanfic

[acahope311]

Silver Lining

Sleepover Request

luna-xial said: So so so I see you have requests open due to your sleepover (also Ohmygosh congratulations!!) and I was wanting to ask if you could do something with Kili for the fluff prompt list, #3??? ❤️❤️ (if not that’s okay, I just wanted to request something because your writing is so good 🥺❤️) (“(She/he/they) don’t compare to you. No one does.”)

A/N Wow! This one is a doozy. I loved writing this, Kili has always been one of my favorite characters, and the prompt lead to so many directions but I chose to do one where angst was not an option🥺 Thank you so much for sending this in @luna-xial and participating in the sleepover 🥰

*I wanted to thank @guardianofrivendell for double-checking my writing and making sure I knew the difference between "pinning" and "pining" LMFAO!*

Warnings: none? I guess self-doubt?

Erebor was bustling. What once was a dormant and abandoned mountain, a reminder of dwarven greed, now symbolized second chances, wealth, and life. Dwarves from the Blue Mountains were flocking to the mountain, some were those who never thought they would live to see the Lonely Mountain rise from the horizon, the rest were ambitious young dwarrows hoping to start anew. Men were also moving back to Dale, revitalizing the growing community in the shadow of the great mountain- of course, King Bard and his family oversaw the restoration of the city and personally welcomed the new arrivals. Whilst similarly in Erebor, Thorin himself rolled up his sleeves and took to reconstructing the home of his forefathers- his Company by his side. Which were quite a sight to see as thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a woman all lifted, chiseled, and swept away rubble, ash, and dirt. Little by little, the fruits of labor began to show and soon the rock-hewn walls seemed to sing the history of the mountain and once the mountain was unearthed, the new dwarves were settled in. You found you had more time to explore the mountain. The grand stone walls of Erebor encased your miniature frame. Funny enough, being a human woman you were head and shoulders taller than most dwarves, but the walls and statues made you shrink. As you quietly made your way through the halls, you’d occasionally run into a group of dwarrow, warm pleasantries were exchanged and small talk was exchanged. Once the mountain was more established and a trade agreement was founded, Thorin had appointed you as a live-in ambassador to Dale and Mirkwood, much to his chagrin. At first living in the mountain had a rocky start, Durin’s folk were always wary of strangers- especially from another race, but once you had proven yourself time and time again, you were welcomed with open arms. However, some still were reluctant to see you as an ally, making it a point to sometimes emphasize your foreignness. Yet you never held it against them but had always put it up to jealousy, for not only were you the woman who accompanied and aided in the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain alongside Thorin Oakenshield, but you were very close to the Durin princes-- especially Kili. From the moment you and Kili met, the Company knew you were both trouble. Being both the youngest in the group meant mischief that even Fili had to take a step back to make sure you two were not in over your heads. At first, it was all fun and games, but somewhere along the line, you realized that he meant so much more to you than a friend; you loved him. You’d carried this torch with you throughout the whole quest and although you’d hoped it would extinguish, his sunlight smiles, friendly touches, and adoring eyes fanned the flames of your feelings- it didn’t help that he would always make time to end every night in conversation with you. As time went on, even Fili could see your pining and couldn’t help but smile fondly knowing that you and his brother held mutual feelings but were just too blinded by their infatuation for each other to realize the truth.

One day, at the training grounds when you and Fili were free from your duties, the golden prince set his plan into action. As he stood by the side, he seemed to be lost in thought- reliving an earlier conversation he had with his brother.

“Fi, what do I do?” Kili wailed, sitting in front of his brother as he patiently waited for him to comb his hair. Fili sighed, he knew that wail very well.

“Whatever do you mean, brother dear?” He said teasingly while pulling on a particularly tough knot. Resisting the tugs, Kili began to rant.

“You know what I mean. What do I do about y/n? I want to start the courting process, even Uncle thinks it’s a good idea, but I am so lost… I don’t even know if she returns my feelings.” Kili’s head droops a little at the thought of you not loving him the same way. Fili chuckles at his expense, the sound causing Kili to huff in faux indignation. “I’m glad you’re having a good laugh at my expense brother.”

“Forgive me nadad, but that is such a crazy notion. She loves you, I can see it in the way she lights up when you’re in the room, did you know that?” He says as he continues to untangle the knots in his raven hair.

“Truly?” Kili asks with a little more pep in his tone.

“Truly. You’d think Mahal himself walked into the room with the way her eyes brighten.” Fili smiles as he remembers how in an earlier discussion between you and him, your whole demeanor changed the moment his brother came into the room- like a plant being watered after a drought.

“Do not doubt, brother. She loves you fiercely.” With a reassuring pat on Kili’s shoulder, Fili stands and prepares himself for the day.

“But for Mahal’s sake, fix your hair. I’m sure even she wouldn’t want a prince with a rat’s nest for hair. Amad will shave you if you keep that up!” Fili said as he saw Kili ruffle his hard work.

“I know that! But I also know she’ll love me if I am as smooth as a newborn bairn. She said she loved my hair once on the quest, just before we all fell asleep.” He swooned at the memory. “You don’t understand Fi. I think she is the one, MY One. And I want to do right by her.” Kili’s eyes shone with determination. Speechless, Fili stares at his brother. Then laughs a hearty laugh, confusing Kili.

“What’s so funny?!” He asks, a bit embarrassed. Fili wipes the tears away as he controls his breathing.

“Nothing bad, it’s just that… You truly can find the good in anything! It wasn’t but a moment ago that you were wailing about her not loving you and now you’re declaring her your One.” Fili explains, again brushing his little brother’s hair.

“Oh… Brother, I only do that because of her. She always sees the positive side of everything- and I want to be like that to her. But I can’t do this on my own. Will you help me?” Kili asks timidly. Fili stops and looks directly at him,

“Of course.”

The sound of wood splintering brings Fili back to the present. You ended up breaking the wooden pole and looking sheepishly at him. Sighing fondly, he helps you find a replacement. Once a new one has taken its place, you resume your training while Fili observes.

“You know.” Fili inquired, breaking the silence. “You seem to be so skilled with the sword. Have you tried other weapons?” As you attack a wooden post, the question causes you to pause mid-swing. Pondering this, a small flush creeps onto your face. Suddenly shy, you look down.

“I have been wanting to learn how to shoot a bow…” You whisper as a certain dark-haired prince’s visage of letting loose a quiver of arrows flash in your mind. “I’d always admired how Kili could so quickly nock an arrow and aim with such precision in such a short amount of time. All with a smile, did you know that? That cheeky cub.” You said smiling unknowingly.

Fili smirked. “Now, why would you want to learn how to use a bow, y/n?” he asks- already knowing the answer. As you squirm uncomfortably under his questioning, the silence stretches out. After what seems to be a lifetime, you look up and answer with a determined gleam in your eye.

“Because I want to impress Kili.” You say softly, but resolutely. The answer stuns Fili into silence. After a heartbeat of silence, you continue.

“I know I am not of royal or noble descent. Nor am I rich- I’m not even a dwarf! But I do truly love your brother. I cannot offer much but I would like to start by offering the time to get to better understand his favorite weapon.” You pause, unsure whether you should continue, but you push on. “From what I understand, weaponry and skills are an important part of dwarven courtship, and I would like to take that chance… I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Your brother is worth that chance-- and if nothing comes from it, I at least can say that I tried. ” A loving look passes your face, reminding him of the times you all sat around the fire and listened to his brother’s stories- already he knew you had fallen hard. ‘She always sees the positive side of everything’, Kili’s voice resonates in his mind.

“But I am still a novice in this… So I may need your help?” You conclude, less confident than what you meant. Exhaling in relief, Fili smiles and turns around. At first, you are worried that you’d insulted him, but when he returns promptly with a bow and a quiver of arrows, your face breaks into a grin.

“I’d gladly teach you,” Fili says proudly as he hitches his belt. You nod and reach for the bow, but at the last minute, he pulls away.

“But I can think of a better teacher, right brother?” A chuckle resonates from the sidelines behind you. Turning around, you see Kili walking towards you, smiling. He reaches for the bow and arrows from Fili and knocks foreheads softly.

“Thank you.” Fili pulls away and nods, as he moves to the exit he passes by you and winks.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Silently, the golden prince leaves the training area- leaving you alone with Kili. Turning to him, you can't help but notice your heartbeat so fast that you're sure he can hear it. The silence grows as you both stare at each other until he clears his throat

"I know Fili may have said that I'd be a better teacher, but I will be honest… I don't think I am." He confesses as he subconsciously nocks an arrow and pierces the wooden post.

"I learned by example, but I will teach you everything I know and by the end of the day, you'd be the best archer in all of Erebor." He says sweetly. "Well… second best. After me of course." Correcting himself. You gasp at his cheekiness and punch his shoulder playfully.

"Alright, alright. Let's get this lesson started."

Several hours passed, and so had several arrows yet not one hit the target. You were out of breath, your arms shaking so much you could barely lift the bow. Kili looked over you, took in the sight of your sweaty form and shaking arms. He sat on the ground with a thump- the sound surprising you.

"Kili? Are you alright?" You asked worriedly, kneeling down next to him.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, not looking at you. Confused, you take his hand into yours and begin to rub his arm comfortingly.

"What do you mean? No need to apologize, you're a great teacher- I'm just a bad student hahaha!" You joke. However, Kili shakes his head.

"No, I'm a better teacher than this, it's just that I am distracted…" he admits, further confusing you. Kili continues, "I heard what you said with Fili." Shocked, you ask, "How much did you hear…?" You look down, unable to meet his eyes.

"All of it." Your shoulders droop in dismay. Ashamed, you begin to pull away, but his grip tightens.

"You don't need to be anything for me, y/n. I don't need a princess nor do I need a lady- I just need you." Kili's confession snaps your eyes to his.

"You don't mean that." You respond, barely a whisper. Your eyes fall on your lap once again, but Kili tilts your chin up so your eyes stare into his deep brown eyes.

"I do, amrâlimê. With every ounce of my being." He smiles the smile that can make even the darkest nights seem like morning. Still, clouds of doubt linger.

"I came from nothing, Kili… You are a prince, there are so many other dwarrowdams, clothed and draped with gems and gold- I cannot compare to that. You deserve-" Suddenly you're pulled forward and silenced as his lips meet yours. At first, Kili seems hesitant, giving you enough time to pull away, but to his relief, you begin to kiss him back. Your hand reaches up and caresses his cheek, while his free hand pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. For a moment, the clouds break and all thoughts of doubt leave your mind, replaced by a feeling of wholeness-- as though you had found a half you'd never known you'd lost. Reluctantly, however, you both pull away to breathe but bring your foreheads together, basking in each other's presence- time begins to move again.

"My heart belongs to no one except to you, y/n. You are my One and I love you. Don't worry about them; they cannot compare to you. No one can." He breathes, cupping your face in both his hands. Unbeknownst to you, tears trail down your eyes.

"But-" He kisses you again, softly. Brushing away any second thoughts you'd have.

"No buts. Do you know why they don't compare? It's because, in the end, I know they will only want me for my title and gold. But you?" He wipes your tears away and smiles lovingly at you. "You love me for me. You'd seen me at my highs and lows. Moreover, you always show me the bright side of everything, ghivashel. They can keep their gems and golden gowns. For you are my silver lining." With that, Kili pulls you into a tight hug and all you can do is smile as the clouds of doubt break. Assuring you that come what may, no matter what clouds your thoughts, Kili's love for you is true, and will always show you the bright side- he is your silver lining.

#kili x reader #writing #sleepover #100 followers #fluff prompts #the hobbit #luna-xial #fluff #tiny bit of self-doubt #tolkien #silver lining #thank you

[ladydimitrescuspet]

The Offer And The Crush (Daniela x Elena)

AO3 link! context: the dimitrescu daughters are new to the area but the rumours about castle dimitrescu still stand true. but for the purpose of the fic, the castle was "abandoned" so it's just like daniela and her family just moved there because they inherited it. okay, yeah, that makes sense, let's go with it.

sorry for any grammatical errors and the title, it sounds horrendous! anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and let me know your thoughts if you want to! and remember, reblogs help more people see my fics!

-----

Alcina had bundled her youngest daughter, Daniela, up as best as she could to ensure that she wouldn’t get cold. Daniela hated it, how her mother fussed over her or her sisters every time they went out. But this time, she’d reluctantly allowed her mother to put her in an excessive amount of layers because it really was cold outside this time of year.

“Promise me that you’ll be safe?” Alcina asked. Daniela nodded her head. “And you’ll go somewhere to warm up when you get to town, yes?”

“Yes, mom, I’ll make sure to get all nice and toasty before I venture back outside again.” Daniela replied. Daniela knew her mother meant well, but it bugged her a bit at how overprotective she could get. “Can I go now?”

“Yes, Dani, you may go.” Alcina said as she walked Daniela to the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.” Daniela said, waving goodbye to her mother.

The walk to town went by quicker than Daniela expected, but when it’s cold and windy outside, that’ll really make some get to their destination as quickly as possible. Her goal was to recruit a few more villagers to work on the staff at the Castle. With Winter just starting, the Dimitrescu’s knew they’d get some willing villagers to help provide for their families or just to have a warm place to stay for the season.

Since they were mostly in need of maids, Daniela headed towards the dance school. That was the perfect place to start, right? Since that’s where most of the older girls spent their time anyway. As she entered the building, she started to feel warmer since she’d left the Castle. Daniela tugged on the scarf around her neck and unzipped her jacket. Daniela had to keep herself from getting distracted when her mouth started to water as she smelled the scent of virgin blood.

“Hi. Are you new here?” A voice said from behind Daniela.

When Daniela turned around, it was like her heart stopped. “U-um hi. No, I’m, uh, not new here.” Daniela replied, her cheeks flushing a bit. “Wait, yes, yes I am. Just moved here, recently.” Daniela scratched at the back of her head. What was happening to her?

The woman hummed. “Oh. Well, welcome, I’m Elena. Is there anything I can help you with?” Elena asked.

Daniela stared at her, her mouth opening and closing multiple times before she cleared her throat. “I, uh, sorry about that. I guess, I just, um, so dance.” Daniela said, laughing nervously, playing with her fingers. Snap out of it, Daniela.

Elena laughed a bit. “Yes, this is a dance school. Do you like to dance?” Elena asked.

Daniela shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that I like it, but my mother does insist on my sisters and I knowing all of the fancy schmancy ones.” Daniela replied.

“Oh, so you mostly know ballroom dances?” Daniela nodded her head. “Well, maybe you’d like to come down and teach a class or two?” Elena suggested.

“I mean, I said I know them, not that I was any good.” Daniela replied.

Elena shrugged. “Well, maybe if you and I partnered together for the classes then I can help you perfect them. What do you say… I’m afraid, I never actually got your name.”

“Sorry. I’m Daniela. And I think I’d like that, a lot.” Daniela replied. Daniela, what? You came into town for maidens, not to become a dance teacher with the really cute girl at the dance school in the village.

“Fitting name for you.” Elena said causing Daniela to blush a bit. “Well, Daniela, if you’d like then you can leave your name and number with Isabela, and I will contact you. Maybe we can practice sometime here or at your place?”

Daniela face flushed again. Why do you keep blushing and flushing? Get it together, Daniela. “I’d, well, I’d, um, have to ask my, um, mother about that.” Daniela replied. “And I leave my information with Isabela?”

“Yes, yes. So, is there anything else I can help you with?” Elena asked.

Daniela smiled timidly at her. “Well, my family and I, we just moved up to the old castle on the hill. Castle Dimi-something, do you know it?” Elena gulped slightly, nodding her head. “Oh, great! We inherited the estate after our grandmother passed, but um, we’d like to offer any of the girls here a place of employment to occupy their time when they’re not dancing or at home with their families. My mother will pay handsomely and even house them if they’re in need of shelter for the winter season.” Not bad, Dani girl, not bad. Making an offer for an offer. You teach and some of the dancers help out at the castle. It's a win-win for everybody.

Elena nodded her head. “Of course, I’ll ask around. I know some of them will more than likely accept the offer. Your mother is very sweet to do this for the girls in the village. Be sure to thank her for me, yeah?”

“Absolutely.” Daniela replied. “I, um, I should go. It was nice… meeting you, Elena. I look forward to our lessons.” Daniela gave her a smile and Elena reciprocated it. Gosh, her smile is pretty.

“Likewise, Daniela.” Elena said. “And let your mother know that I’ll gather as many girls as I can for her and the castle.” Elena was a bit hesitant about the idea, considering the stories she’s heard about Castle Dimitrescu. But since the girl and her family just moved to the area, she had no reason to not trust Daniela.

“Good, good.” Daniela replied. “Can I, um, ask you something?” Daniela asked. Elena nodded her head. “If I were to, I don’t know, ask you to go to coffee, would you agree?” Daniela asked, avoiding eye contact.

Elena felt her face flush. “I, well, I would.” Elena replied. “If you were to ask, of course.” Elena gave Daniela a small smile.

“Great.” Daniela zipped up her jacket and put her scarf back on, walking over to Isabela to give her her information. She turned to face Elena once more when she was finished. “Well then, I bid you a very good evening, Miss Elena. And I will be looking forward to your call.” Daniela said as she waved good bye to Elena who reciprocated the gesture.

Daniela quickly left the building, letting out a deep breath that she hadn't even realised she was holding. Daniela glanced back a bit to see Elena talking to Isabela. She's gotten a bit flustered talking to Elena and she never got that way around anybody.

As Daniela walked home, she thought about how this kind of thing happened to a girl in a book she read once, she'd called it a crush. Daniela started comparing how she felt about Elena to how the girl felt in her book and let out a shaky breath. The idea of having a crush on Elena, someone she'd just met, made Daniela smile. She'd have much to talk to her mother about when she arrived home regarding her crush, but for now, Daniela let her mind drift off to thoughts of promised dance lessons and coffee with Elena.

----- Tag List (click here to join, only once please): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp,@rachelthefanfictionwriter, @d14n4ol, @peachesandlesbians,@homoo-wan-kenobi (@Followingmyheartledtoyou, @Gansito83 - won't tag properly) and Anna (no @ yet or did you send yours??)

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu's daughters #daniela dimitrescu #elena lupu #daniela dimitrescu x elena lupu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu

[wickedscribbles]

Come What May, Chapter Four

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Original Female Character (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: brief description of panic attack -- there is a warning in the body of the chapter as well! Don’t worry. 

Tags: main character has social anxiety, teaching a class with Obi-Wan, sexual tension, lightsaber fights, Obi-Wan continues with the cute pet names, some teacher/student fantasizing, Obi-Wan is still a massive tease, fucking in a supply closet

Word Count: 6.9 K

It's infuriating to know that Obi-Wan is back in the Temple, but that he's too busy to see you. Between Council meetings that drag for hours, more private gatherings with members of the Senate to discuss what the next move in the war should be, and allowing the poor man time to rest, Obi-Wan has been home for more than a week. You've barely caught more than a glimpse of him. Still, it's nice to have him present in your mind.

You know he's still in the Temple every day you wake up to a glowing good morning, love, his happiness to be near you radiating like sunshine even if you haven't had the time to see one another. It’s not safe to talk back and forth, but sometimes if one of you is particularly bored, you’ll trade a few sentences.

Master Yoda is on a roll today. Send help. Starting to think backwards I am.

Pity you I do.

Very funny, petal.

Then he’d be gone again, fading out before anyone got suspicious. The sudden absence hurts, but not as much as having him gone from the Temple entirely. At least here, you can feel him. You know he's safe.

In contrast to Obi-Wan's breakneck schedule, you've had almost nothing to do. It's full-on spring on Coruscant now, the warmth driving cold and flu season away. You have no colicky little ones in the creche to fuss over, no sick Padawans. The most you might see are some old Masters who need their aching bones tended to, or a quick training accident that needs mended. You haven't shipped out to a war-stricken planet in a while, either. It's strange to have downtime. Strange and frustrating, knowing Obi-Wan is nearby but still not close enough. Having a spare moment between all the illness and injuries is a good thing, and you're grateful. If only you weren't so restless.

-----

It’s rare -- almost impossible -- that you get to take the entire day off, but that’s exactly what you’ve been told to do. The medbay sits empty except for a couple of droids, instructed to deep clean while there are no patients. Even Master Allie appears to be taking it easy; her Force is calm as she bids you goodbye. She insists that if anyone turns up in need of healing, she and Barriss Offee would be on call to take care of it. You bow to her and leave, excited about what possibilities this could open up.

The first thing you do is check for Obi-Wan. Of course, he’s preoccupied. You duck out after feeling the level of concentration he’s exerting at something-or-other; it’s mixed with frustration and you don’t want to distract him. Like you, he’s getting more and more impatient with how busy the Council has kept him. You try not to let yourself be disappointed; it would be too lucky for both of you to be free at the same time, on the same day. All you can do is hope that you can find the time to be together before he has to leave again.

With your schedule more open than ever, you head to your favorite courtyard. The least you can do is soak up some Coruscanti sunshine. But only a quarter of an hour passes before you’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps on cobblestones, headed fast in your direction. Around the corner, scattering the kiros birds, comes a youngling you recognize. It's Gil Graven, a spitfire of a youngling you see in the medbay far more than others his age. He drives his minders crazy with his recklessness, but he’s a sweetheart. Even if you swear you have him admitted once a month for sprains and cuts.

Even now he trips and topples, would have earned the Halls of Healing their first visitor of the day, if you hadn't righted him with a quick pull of the Force.

"Easy, Gil. Where's the fire?" You smile, watching the kid tug his too-large tunic back onto his shoulder.

"Fire? There's no fire, miss. I was looking for you!"

His eyes go round with confusion, cheeks red from running. You forgot how literal younglings could be.

"I meant -- wait, looking for me? What's wrong? Who's hurt?"

Kriff. You should've known taking a day off would backfire. Something had happened in the fifteen minutes you’d had your butt parked in the grass. You get to your feet, gripping the pouch of emergency bacta on your belt.

"Oh! It's not a healer thing." Gil bounces in place, thinking. "But you're needed in the training halls! And they told me to find you quick!"

"Gil, calm down for a minute, okay?" The training halls? Why on Ryloth were you wanted there? "Who told you?"

He shrugs, unhelpful. “I dunno. I’ve never met ‘im before. But he told me to go get the Knight from the Healing Halls ‘cause no one’s been admitted today, and you’d be able to help him.”

You’re still not sure if this is a healer problem, or a matter of simple confusion. Gil’s got a touch of what healers like to call bouncy brain. Sweet as he is, he talks at lightspeed and can’t seem to concentrate if he isn’t moving. There’s a real possibility that he’s got something mixed up here. Still, it’s not as if you’re doing anything else. The Force must have decided that you need to keep busy.

You decide to see what he’s going on about. “Okay, Gil. Lead the way.”

-----

Lingering outside one of the larger training rooms is Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, who smiles when he spots Gil leading you over by the hand.

“There you are!” He crouches down to greet your youngling escort, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Gil, I am so glad you found our friend. You may go now.”

Gil bows to him, his Force blooming under the praise. “Yes, Master.” You both watch as he takes off the way he came, speeding back up to a run.

“No running!” You scold after him. He barely slows before he’s out of sight.

Master Ki-Adi-Mundi chuckles. “That one reminds me of our own Anakin Skywalker.”

You nod, seeing the resemblance. Anakin is five years your junior, but he was still notorious when you were Padawans. Always turning up where he shouldn’t have been, Obi-Wan always three steps behind. Nothing’s changed, Obi-Wan often tells you.

“Master,” you say, hearing the low buzz of voices coming from the room you’re standing in front of. “Gil said you needed me? Is someone injured?”

“Hm? Oh! Oh stars, no.” Master Ki-Adi shakes his head, looking sheepish. “But I was rather hoping you’d be able to help me with a little problem I’ve run into.”

“Of course.” Okay, now I'm suspicious.

Ki-Adi tugs the end of his beard. “My squadron is being called out to fight on very short notice, I’m afraid. I was meant to teach today’s lesson, and was lucky enough to find a substitute for myself on short notice. But my instruction partner is leaving as well, and I haven’t yet found them a suitable replacement.”

“O-oh,” you hear yourself squeak.

Karabast. He wants you to teach? Your stomach drops somewhere near your ankles. This is so far from what you were expecting when Gil led you here. You can’t do this. You can’t.

Ki-Adi must feel your panic, because he continues quickly. “Don’t fret, my dear! My substitute is a very capable instructor. Follow his lead, and everything will be fine.” He claps a hand on your shoulder, turning away.

“Thank you again -- and now I really must be off.” And with that, he’s gone, walking at a brisk pace down the corridor.

CW starts here!

You’re so anxious that you feel like you’re about to be sick. You’ve done many things on behalf of the Council, often without knowing what they even were, but this? You can’t do this. There’s too many people. You lean against the doorframe, struggling for breath.

What’s the matter? Obi-Wan’s concern comes rushing in, and you’re grateful you have him to latch onto, to focus on.

Someone's asked a favor of me -- and I don’t think I can do it. You’re gripping your saber hilt too tight, the metal biting into your hand.

Please try to calm down. Find somewhere to sit and meditate, collect yourself --

Your anxiety is affecting him, making his own thoughts race even if he doesn’t know the cause. This sometimes happens. You’ve jolted awake in the middle of the night more than once with nightmares that weren’t your own, or had thoughts that didn’t make sense ‘til you realized they weren’t yours.

I can’t.

Why not?

You don’t reply. You have to go in there. Master Ki-Adi said that he was already late. Remembering your breathing, you focus on a count of four in through your nose, then hold the breath for a count of seven. When you exhale, you count to eight. After repeating the exercise several times, you can think straight. It’s not the more in-depth meditation Obi-Wan would have preferred, but it helps. All you can do is hope that the instructor carries much of the class, as Master Ki-Adi said he would.

When it feels like you’ve released much of your fear and uncertainty to the Force, you open the door and step in.

CW ends here!

Immediately, twenty pairs of curious Padawan eyes move to follow you, and you cringe. They all sit cross-legged on the padded floor. Three of the walls are lined with mirrors, the better for students to see fighting forms and sparring matches from every angle. On a side wall, a flimsi depicting each form of saber combat stretches the length of the room, cut off only by the supply closet where training accessories are stored. You’ve been in this room and its adjacent siblings dozens of times. But all that isn’t as important to you as the instructor, who’s turned to see why the room’s gone quiet.

It’s Obi-Wan.

Standing bare-foot on one of room-length training mats, in the middle of handing out sparring sticks to the class, he freezes when you lock eyes.

Oh, he says, equal parts shock and happiness.

Yeah.

I say this with the greatest respect, darling -- why did Master Ki-Adi send you?

Because the Healing Halls are completely empty. Also to torture me. You grimace, joining him at the front of the room. He nods to you in greeting, as if you aren’t having a mental conversation.

“Knight Courtee. Glad to see you could join us.”

“I apologize, Master. It was short notice for me, as well.” You bow to him.

Is this what you were so worked up about? They’re only Padawans. They don’t bite -- much.

Once the group realizes that you’re the other instructor that Obi-Wan’s been waiting for, the chatter resumes. They stop ogling you. From the looks of the group, they’re all in the late teens, and bubbling over with energy. Right in the middle of Padawan and Knight, but with all the arrogance to think they’re already the latter. Away from their Masters in a group like this, they tend to get far rowdier than they would otherwise. Each has a lightsaber strapped to their belt.

“Run me through the lesson?” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Quiet!” Obi-Wan demands over his shoulder, and you jump. The loudest cluster of Padawans instantly falls silent behind you.

Sorry, he thinks at you. I’m starting to see why Ki-Adi jumped on the first ship leaving the system.

“Amina, lose the gum. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Yes, now. Navo, do I have to move you to the other side of the room? Don’t think I won’t.”

Mumbles of yes, Master, break out before he turns back to you, satisfied. You don’t smile but know he feels your amusement.

“We’ll be running through some more advanced katas,” Obi-Wan says. “Then we’ll break them into pairs and focus on the saber technique of each pair. At the end of the lesson, you and I will give a demonstration on a chosen form. Perhaps more than one, if the class requests it.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit, thinking back to your own group Padawan lessons. You’d dreaded the paired sparring sessions, having your own form broken down and scrutinized. In the end, though, it had improved your skills. Being able to do the same for this group would be an honor. This is a big piece of being a Jedi, after all; skills passed down from Master to Knight to Padawan.

“It isn’t. Just don’t let them smell your fear,” he grins. “Let’s get started.”

As noisy as the group is, you can tell they’re genuinely excited to be in a session led by Master Kenobi. And Obi-Wan really knows how to lead the room. While you stand stiffly off to the side, nodding whenever he finishes saying something and hoping you don’t look like an idiot, he uses the space. He explains the lesson to them as he explained it to you, then asks if anyone has any questions.

The girl who’d been caught with gum earlier, Amina, raises her hand. Her other hand is busy twirling her long Padawan braid, like she can’t help but fidget with it. “Um, Master Kenobi, why are we using sparring sticks? We’ve had lightsabers for a while now.”

A murmur of agreement washes through the crowd, and Obi-Wan smirks.

“Good question, Padawan. Everyone, close your eyes and reach through the Force. Do you feel how tumultuous the energy in this room is? How excitable? If any one of you lit your saber in this room, I fear someone would lose a limb. And that’s something that Knight Courtee can’t fix for you. So we play it safe.”

Another hand punctuates the air, from the very front of the crowd. This Padawan seems younger than the rest, with hair that sticks up everywhere and eyes focused only on Obi-Wan. He starts speaking before he can be called on.

“All due respect, Master,” he says, in a way that makes you think that he’s used to sharing unorthodox opinions. The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth quirks up as he fights a smile, and you feel him think of Anakin.

“Why are we here? We’re fighting a war. Many of us have already seen combat alongside our Masters.” He lowers his eyes to the mat, afraid he’s gone too far. When his fellow Padawans start nodding and whispering, he tugs on the end of his nerf-tail, as if unsure of what to do.

Obi-Wan takes a moment to consider this question, hand going to his beard as it often does when he’s thinking.

“I appreciate your honesty, Caleb. And you’re correct. It might seem...redundant to spend your time here when even now fellow Jedi are fighting real battles.”

He pauses, thinking of how to continue. The Padawans are hanging onto his every word, the room silent. “But that’s why it’s so important to refine your technique when we can spare the time, in a secure environment. It will make you stronger when you face a real opponent. It might even save your life. Does that make sense?”

Wow, you think to yourself. He’d handled that beautifully. Even though Caleb had spoken out of turn, Obi-Wan hadn’t belittled him or made the teen feel bad about what was an honest and important question. He’d taken the time to consider the Padawan’s feelings, and had given him an equally honest answer, not something to pacify him. It takes you back to your own Padawan training, when Obi-Wan had been your instructor.

“Yes, Master,” Caleb ducks his head, looking relieved. “thank you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes search the room. “Anything else?”

After a pause, another hand goes up, toward the back.

“Millu?” You love that he knows everyone by name. Some Padawans turn around to reveal a burly Mon Calamari boy.

“Yeah.” His bright yellow eyes dart over to you. “Uh, speaking of Knight Courtee. Why are you teaching us? I thought you were just, like, a healer.” There’s no real malice in his tone, more like an off-handed curiosity, but Obi-wan stiffens.

Luckily you think of something to say before he can open his mouth. It wouldn’t look good for him to get upset defending you.

“That’s an excellent question, Millu, thank you.” You shoot him a smile, and you swear his scales darken with a blush.

“Being a Jedi with healing abilities does not mean that you get to neglect other aspects of your training. On the contrary, your connection with the Force must be powerful at all times. Healing will swamp you physically and emotionally, so you must keep both body and mind strong to withstand it.”

Your smile widens. “Of course, if you’re asking if you can best me in a fight, we’ll see how you match up during paired spars. Sound good?”

Laughter breaks out, and Millu blushes even darker before muttering, “Sure,” and looking away. Even if it seemed like he was questioning your ability to teach them (as you yourself are), you’re grateful the interaction’s lightened the mood.

Nicely done, says Obi-Wan.

“Very good,” he says aloud, clapping his hands together. “Now if we’re done heckling Knight Courtee, let’s begin with some stretches, please.”

------

Obi-Wan was right, you think, walking around the room. This...isn’t bad at all. You walk from pair to pair, taking in the angle of their weapon, how they hold their bodies, making minor corrections and leaving comments as you go. They look up when you come by, eager to see what you’re going to say to them. It’s much easier to interact with the Padawans on this smaller scale, and you find yourself joking with them, smiling. After a while, they even start asking for you, looking to see if you can demonstrate a move or if they’re holding the training stick the correct way. They aren’t scary at all -- just excitable kids who want to learn.

I’m sorry, Obi-Wan was what?

Looking up, you see Obi-Wan grinning across the room, demonstrating his own correction. In the middle of all this excitable teen Force energy, it’s easy for you to have a conversation and go unnoticed.

You were right. I like this.

And you’re good at it; they adore you. You’re going to make a wonderful Master. He shows you a brief image of a happy Padawan trailing behind you, eager to follow wherever you lead. It’s the best feeling, love.

Unexpected emotion rises in your chest at his pure sincerity. He knows how insecure you are about the fact that you’ll soon have your own Padawan to look after, but he doesn’t have a single doubt that you can do it. For the first time, you let yourself think of the situation in a hopeful light. It was a path you never pictured for yourself, but one that you know you have to follow. Obi-Wan makes it look so easy. Anakin, and even Anakin’s Padawan Ahsoka, look at him like he hung the stars. Of course, so do you.

“Last twenty minutes!” Obi-Wan calls over the noise of sparring sticks clacking together. “Take a seat, class.”

The Padawans rush to do as they’re told, everyone clamoring for the best spot to view your spar with Master Kenobi. They go completely silent, waiting for you to join him. A hush even falls over the Force energy in the room, like they’re all holding their breath.

Obi-Wan sinks into a bow when you’re opposite him, one hand on his saber. When you glance down in confusion, he sends a wave of amusement.

I said I didn’t trust the Padawans, darling. Not you.

Not sure if that’s wise. You bow in return, unclipping your saber also. He ignites his blade, the blue glow casting light over all the reflections of the mirrors. Taking a deep breath, trusting the familiar feeling of your own weapon, you ignite your lightsaber. The bright green light shimmers over your hands, crackling with your energy.

You’re surprised at how nervous you are. It’s one thing to watch him from across the room, to be taught by him as a Padawan yourself, but to spar with Obi-Wan as an equal? He’s going to wipe the floor with you.

“What form does Knight Courtee use?” You hear somebody whisper.

“Form five -- she told me.”

“Oooh, really? That’ll be fun to see against Master Kenobi.”

“Shhh!”

Obi-Wan waits until the group is quiet again to ask if you’re ready to start. Your saber hums hot in your hand, a little less controlled than you’d like it.

“Ready as I can be, Master.”

“Then let’s begin.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he’s in your space, much closer than you want him with a lightsaber in hand. You strike out instinctively and he expected that, anticipated it. He was baiting you. Your blade bounces off of his far more harshly than you like, the zyoom echoing through the room. You take a step back, try to calculate an opening. He mirrors you, waiting to react. It takes you longer than it should to realize that he’s shielded the bond up tight, not giving anything away. The only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and the crackling of the sabers, each one fueled by its master’s adrenaline.

He keeps his blade held at eye level, and you lunge in for a mid-range attack. Obi-Wan blocks but you keep it coming, getting back into the groove of Djem So after spending so long out of combat. It feels good to have the saber be a part of you, to have it grow lighter as it remembers your touch.

Strike, block, strike, block. You’re working at a breakneck rhythm trying to get through his defenses, but Obi-Wan won’t give an inch. Sweat pours down your temple but still you press, using the Force to try and search for a weak point but finding none. He’s too kriffing fast.

There’s a reason they call him Master of this form. It’s infuriating, the almost lazy way he flicks your lightsaber aside every time, using your energy against you. There’s not a hair out of place on him. Every time you lower your blade, wondering what to do, he simply resets, content to wait again. You can tell from the look in his eyes that he knows you’re getting tired.

The Padawans are anything but quiet now -- some shouting Get her, Master Kenobi! while others insist that you can hold your own. Your eyes flick over to them once. Some lean forward towards the fight as far as they dare, a few are even on their feet in support.

When Obi-Wan finally tips his saber in retaliation, you barely manage to block, caught off guard at the change from defense to offense. He strikes again, again, again -- each blow more brutal than the last, each one so close to your skin that you can feel his blue saber’s sizzling heat. He’s driving you back against the wall. Despite your best effort, you’re losing ground where you’d previously held it. When you feel your back slam against the wall he was driving you toward, you gasp and fumble a block -- your last move. The blade of Obi-Wan’s saber hovers near your throat, a win.

“And that’s your head,” he says easily. You lower your saber and extinguish the blade, holding your hands up in a show of defeat.

The room erupts.

“Master Kenobi, that was so wizard --”

“Knight Courtee was letting him have it! Did you see --?”

“I wish I could have recorded that for the holo!”

“Settle down,” Obi-Wan says, but he’s smiling. “I’m glad that you all have found this lesson so illuminating.” He bows to you, signalling the end of the match, and you follow suit.

“You’re dismissed,” he says to the room. The declaration is met with mixed reactions; half are glad to be free, half don’t want the lesson to be over yet.

“No need to hang around and help tidy this time. You were such a good group that Knight Courtee and I are glad to take care of it.” It’s traditional for students to stick around after the lesson is done and help roll up the training mats, collect the sparring sticks, and clean the room in any other way that needs it.

That statement really gets them out the door, though several of them whine about him being far cooler than their regular teacher and why can't he teach them all the time?

Once everyone’s filed out, Obi-Wan locks the door behind them. He turns to you with a long sigh, relieved that the loudness of all those teenagers in one place has dispersed.

“Well,” you say. “That’s not how I expected my morning to go.”

“I’m glad,” Obi-Wan replies. “I was beginning to think that I wouldn’t see you at all in my time home, yet here we are.”

“Like the Force willed it.”

He beams at that, drawing you tight against him. “C’mere. My bright little instructor.”

You grumble, cheek pressed against his chest. “You flayed me within an inch of my life, Obi-Wan.”

All he does in response to your grumpiness is chuckle, placing warm kisses everywhere he can reach on your face. “Yes. I did.”

“It was embarrassing.”

“I couldn’t exactly go easy on you, could I?”

No, he couldn’t. Everyone knows the extent of Obi-Wan’s skill, and while you aren't untalented with a saber, winning or even overcoming him would be unlikely. You’d fought honestly, and so had he. Anything else would have invoked suspicion.

He takes your silence for the correct answer, then gently pries your cheek from his body.

“Would it help if you got kisses as a consolation prize?” He’s looking at you so fondly, like you’re his favorite thing in the galaxy. You nod, already leaning on your tiptoes to reach.

Obi-Wan hums against your lips, sinking against you like he’s been waiting for this -- because you both have. The kisses stay close-mouthed, but he’s pressing them onto you fast, his hands roaming you urgently. Your bond tells you that he wants to take his time with you, would have each moment stretch out for as long as possible, if he could. He wants to savor you. But arousal is winning out.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling back to brush his nose against yours. “Do you know how much restraint it took not to pin you against the wall and have you, at the end of our fight? To resist sending all the little Padawans away right then?”

You gasp, feeling heat stirring deep in your stomach. The honey-sweetness of his tone contrasts with his words, but he’s just getting started.

“There was such fire in your eyes when we sparred, kitten." Kitten. Yet another pet name to add to your already large collection. This one makes you blush, and you don't miss Obi-Wan's pleased grin. "I had to shut you out so that you wouldn’t get distracted by my, er, distraction.”

His distraction presses up against your leg now, thick and hot. Obi-Wan tugs the end of your braid hard, tilting your head back to expose your neck. You whimper against him, all but letting him hold you up at this point. He loves it -- going to work at once nipping and kissing everywhere he can get to. His breath is heavy on your skin as he ruts against your thigh, trying and failing to bite back his own ecstatic moans.

“We’re alone now,” you choke out, hardly aware enough to string the sentence together. “s-so you can -- do whatever you want with me.”

This makes him pause. “Is that so?” Obi-Wan’s tone is still so light, like you’re having a conversation about what they’re serving in the refectory today, not how badly you want him to fuck you.

“Yes,” you say, embarrassed at how desperate you sound, how easily you melt for him. You can see yourself over his shoulder in the mirrors, and you blush, burying your face.

He laughs a little at your reaction. “What if I want to take you into that supply closet and bend you over?” His hand roams down your body, landing on your crotch. Two fingers rub a strong circle through the material, and you lean into it. “What if I want to take you from behind, make up for all the time we haven’t been together?”

“I’d ask why -- aren’t we already there,” you huff, blinking up at him.

That’s all the answer he needs. In one motion, he grabs you round the middle and hauls you over his shoulder like a sack of meilooruns. Your breath whooshes out, surprise and a lack of air keeping you from forming a sentence as he marches you to the closet as promised. The ground bounces and sways in your vision as you’re jostled -- it’s a strange sensation, being carried. Thankfully, it only lasts a few seconds.

Obi-Wan opens the door and closes it just as quickly once you’re both inside, making you aware of how small, how dark, the space is. You find yourself deposited on the storage bin that the mats are kept in, your legs dangling high in the air. He leans in to kiss you, nothing but hot breath and hungry hands, and you fist your own in the front of his tunic. It spurs him on, and soon his tongue is pressing into your open mouth, exploring every corner.

You moan into him, your fingers going beyond clothes to scratch against his chest. Obi-Wan picks you up again and you lift your legs around his waist, rubbing tight against his cock. He bears your entire weight like it’s nothing, continuing to kiss you as if your legs are planted on the ground. Stars, the strength, the eagerness of him, is overwhelming. His arms are pillars, holding you steady, crossed firm around your back.

"I thought you said," you gasp out, shivering when his tongue flicks out to catch your earlobe, "something about -- bending me over --"

“So eager today,” he says, his voice a tantalizing purr.

“Can you blame me?” you blurt.

"And what does that mean, dearest?"

He already knows what you mean. It’s everywhere in your mind. You can’t hide how you feel when you’ve been this close to him for so long, forbidden to touch him, to even think about it until you’ve reached your breaking point.

Obi-Wan, hands behind his back, patiently watching the Padawans demonstrate their forms. Nodding and sometimes stepping in to correct, placing his hand casually on an arm or leg to shift the balance of their weight. Then the Padawan he’s correcting becomes you, and his touch is no longer innocent. The group is melting away, and his mouth is trailing down your neck, whispering things that have little to do with the kata you’re struggling through.

“Oh,” he chuckles. “I see.”

You bump your head into his shoulder, too embarrassed to answer. As if to reassure you, Obi-Wan sends you an image back.

Both of you in the same training room, but you stand among your fellow Padawans, now all Knights, shuffling anxiously from foot to foot. You don't look that much different from the way you do now, but for the traditional Padawan's hairstyle.

Though you're seeing things from his perspective, the mirrors give him away; Obi-Wan looks younger, too. There are no lines around his eyes here, he holds himself more loosely. Like there isn't a galaxy-wide war. And he's less certain as he flits from student to student, new at this.

"You were always a pleasure to speak to, you know," Obi-Wan tells you, low voice right in your ear. He knows that he's teasing you, knows exactly the effect it's having on your body. You squirm in his tight grip, unable to go anywhere to get away from the softness of his voice.

"Polite and passionate. Made your Master very proud. But…" he trails off, and you shiver, anticipating his next words.

"So anxious whenever you saw me, weren't you?" He muses, fingers flexing on the curve of your ass. "And now I finally understand why."

"Obi-Wan…" you protest, unsure of what you're going to say next but just knowing that you need the teasing to stop. Both mental and physical -- he's hard against your abdomen, almost painful with how tight you're wedged against him.

"Down, love," he says. With effort, you extract your legs from around his waist and plant your feet on the floor, with his hands to guide you. "Turn around."

For a moment, you get excited, thinking that he's done teasing you. Obi-Wan makes quick work of your belt, dropping it to the floor seconds before your pants and underwear. You step out of them, breathing heavily, feeling his chest against your back. There's a clink, and you realize that he's dropped his belt as well, one hand bracing on your shoulder as he fumbles out of his own bottoms.

There's nothing between you now. Obi-Wan's bare dick rubs against your tailbone, leaving a warm dribble of pre-come.

"Now bend forward for me, darling -- that's it --"

You lean on the storage bin, heart thumping a tattoo in your throat. Obi-Wan lines himself up behind you, breath ragged, and sinks inside you in one long push.

"Obi-Wan, oh," you cry out, not expecting how full you'd feel from this angle.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he says, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. His mind is a high buzz of pleasure, looking forward to taking you apart in this new, delicious way.

Then he moves. So, so deep and slow. You let out a broken whine, toes curling. He pauses, holds his breath. Then thrusts again, just as unhurried as the first time, and your fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth material of the bin in front of you.

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan sighs. “Do you know, this reminds me of something.”

You groan, not out of pleasure, but because he’s stopped. How? Where and how did he find the restraint to torment you like this? You’re not sure which part of today’s interaction set him off, but you sorely wish that he’d get down to business and fuck you.

“What does it remind you of?” you ask tightly, figuring that playing along will get you where you want to be faster. As if rewarding you, Obi-Wan’s hands come around to find your breasts, teasing your nipples with the barest of touches. Gods if he doesn’t go faster --

He can hear your mind loud and clear, but says nothing, only sending a feeling of amusement back before answering your question.

"Watching you go through katas in this very room. Or, well, the room outside." Obi-Wan presses into your back, finally starting to push into you in a slow but satiating rhythm.

"Mmm," you manage, pressing your lips together hard to avoid reaching an inappropriate volume.

“Do you remember the criticism I had for you, little Padawan? You were so tense. Why was that?” All the while he’s languidly thrusting into you from behind. As if he expects you to form a coherent response.

“I l-liked you,” you stammer out, bracing yourself on the edge of the storage bin.

"Oh? Well, I liked you too. You were a wonderful student."

"That's not what I --" Thank the Maker that it's pitch black in this closet, because your face is burning.

"But for some reason," he continues, enjoying himself, "you always needed correction in solo practice. The other Masters told me, several times, that that was not an issue in their own lessons."

You can only whimper as he bears into you deeper. He knows exactly what he's doing to you. When you place a hand on your stomach, just above your belly button, you can feel him inside you.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Did you need my hands on your body, as desperately as you do now?"

"Yes, Master," you all but sob. "I need, I n-need --"

"Need me to fuck you?" Obi-Wan supplies, voice going rough and breathy. "Need me to wreck you, the way your mind is screaming for it?"

You slam the palm of your hand on the top of the bin, and it makes a hollow thud, sending pain shooting up your arm.

"Obi-Wan, yes! Please, please fuck me, I need it!" You're aware that your words border on incoherence, but not enough to care.

And he doesn't either.

Just as you've reached your limit, so does Obi-Wan. One of his hands grabs your wrist and pins it, hard, while the other squeezes your hip.

"Are you ready?" He pants in your ear, pausing only to nip at your shoulder blade. Already he's fucking you deeper, so good so thick inside you, that you're writhing under his every touch.

"Wanted to do this -- for s-so long --" Obi-Wan gasps out and so do you, the heat of orgasm reaching a crescendo in your thighs as you feel him come apart in your mind.

"Want to come so deep inside you, darling, oh please, please --"

You know that he's barely hanging on, waiting for your permission.

"Gods, Master, yes --" Like you could deny him this, when you want it so desperately too.

His forehead drops to your shoulder as he rams into you, shoving you against the bin. It takes everything you have not to scream his name when you come, gripping his arm -- the only part of him you can reach from this angle.

Obi-Wan isn't far behind, moaning loud behind you as your orgasm makes your pussy clamp down even tighter on him.

"Yes, yes, oh my Gods --"

The bond flares up sudden and white-hot between you, carrying the sensation of Obi-Wan's pleasure just as it had that night on Odryn.

"Kriff," you say weakly, clutching his arm like it's the only thing connecting you to the planet.

Sweetheart, I'm there, I'm right there

I know, and I'm -- me too --

Again?

Yes

Oh fuck, fuck -- I'm coming, stars, I'm coming, oh --

You come a second time when Obi-Wan starts to spurt inside you, tears spilling from the intensity of it all. With him this tight against your body, you swear you can feel every hot spurt of come shoot up inside you. Obi-Wan's teeth are caught in the material of your tunic, muffling his shout. It feels like you stand there, taking his come for minutes, as he shudders against you.

When it's over you whimper, leaning against his chest on aftershock-weak legs. Slowly, as if his head is one step behind, Obi-Wan puts his arms around you.

"Stars above, Obi-Wan," you mutter, every coherent thought fucked out of your head. Your brain feels like static, but your body's floating. Pulling out and turning you gently to face him again, Obi-Wan plants a line of soft kisses from your forehead to your mouth. His release runs heavy down your thighs, but there's not much you can do about it here.

"Not tense now, are you?" he says, tracing slow, wet circles over your sensitive clit.

You laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"No, I'm committed to a scene," Obi-Wan corrects, as if this was all an elaborate game.

You consider saying something along the lines of, I'm going to commit my boot to your rear end if you don't quit it, but think better of it.

Instead you re-dress, wincing at the mess you'll have to tolerate down your crotch and legs until you can get to the nearest fresher. This is the downfall of spontaneous sex. No easy cleanup.

"Next time, would you like to come with me?" Obi-Wan's asking. You snort, buckling your belt back into place.

"Pretty sure I just did. You didn't notice?"

He pauses, then opens the closet door, letting in a blinding slice of light. Though he's dressed, Obi-Wan looks disheveled and wide-eyed still in a way that you always adore.

"That's...no. That's not what I'm talking about, love," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I mean, the next time I have to leave. Come with me. I think we've both come to realize that being apart is painful. And that being together isn't just a physical concept anymore."

His voice has dropped to a near-whisper, but you're hanging on to every word. Though you'd never admit it aloud, this is exactly what you want. To follow him instead of lying awake every night, worrying he won't come back from the last distant system he's shipped away to. You want to be beside him, no matter how rough things are.

You are a Jedi, not a housewife. And frankly, being kept in the Temple while he's away risking his neck, the bond blocked for days or weeks at a time, is torture.

Obi-Wan listens to all this, your outpouring of emotion through the bond you never meant to forge with him. He shows his understanding, his respect, his compassion for you, in return.

"Okay. Okay," he says, more to himself than you. "I'll speak to the Council. Knowing them, it may take some time to get an answer, but --"

You cut him off with a kiss. It doesn't matter. As long as you're together.

#come what may ao3 #wickedscribbles #obi wan smut #ziva courtee #obi wan x you #obi-wan series #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x oc #obi-wan x oc

[fabulouspotatosister]

just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request:  Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

~

“You’re back!”

 You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

 “Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

 “Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

 You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

 A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

 “How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

 “Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

 You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

 By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

 “Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

 “’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

 A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

 Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

 “Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

 The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

 Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

 “I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

 “Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

 “And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

 “I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

 “Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

 Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

 Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

 “Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

 “We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

 The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

 Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

 The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

 I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

 --

 Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

 “Hello?”

 You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

 “Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

 “Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

 “I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

 You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

 “’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

 The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

 “I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

 “Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

 Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

 “And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

 You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

 Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

 “Very! Any pet name preferences?”

 You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

 “Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

 There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

 “Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

 --

 Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

 If friends was the right word for it.

 You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

 “I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

 “You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

 “I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

 “Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

 “What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

 The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

 “Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

 The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

 “Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

 You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

 “I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

 “You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

 “Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

 “I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

 “You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

 Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

 “…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

 You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

 “Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

 “Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

 The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.  

 “I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

 You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend”  which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

 The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

 Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

 “Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

 “No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

 The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

 The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

 The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

 “I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

 You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

 “Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

 Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

 “What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

 The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

 “I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

 “Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

 “Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

 There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

 “Then jump!”

 The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

 The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

 “We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

 The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

 Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

 “You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

 “Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor fanfiction #oh god i spend too long on the intro for this i'm so sorry

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ aizawa shouta x reader → unimaginable 

summary: you decide to let shinsou go on a mission without you but when he gets hurt you blame yourself word count: 1,944 tags/warnings: aizawa family!au, light angst, family, fluff, idk  a/n: i don’t really know what this is but enjoy, i was watching hamilton and i thought of this.

Shinsou had been doing his work studies with you and you enjoyed being able to work along-side your adopted son. He had learned a lot from your husband Aizawa and was getting better and better every day.

You were very professional and did your best to remain unbiased but at the end of the day, you still cared for him as your son so it was hard to let him into situations that you considered too dangerous.

A mission had come up and Shinsou would be a perfect fit for it. You had intended to go with him until Aizawa pulled you aside.

“You should send him with one of your sidekicks, it’ll be good for him to work with others.” He said. You knew your husband well enough to know that that was his nice way of saying you’re smothering him. You couldn’t disagree with him but you worried too much. You liked knowing that if the situation was bad enough you could send Shinsou away to safety. You also knew that wasn’t going to help him become a stronger hero.

Reluctantly you let him go but you couldn’t shake the bad feeling.

“Okay, remember what Aizawa taught you.” You said readjusting the capture weapon that rested around his neck. “Be careful and follow their lead.”

“I know, I know.” Shinsou said with a hint of a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.” You smile at him, you brush his cheek with your thumb. “I’ll see you at home tonight, love you.”

“I love you too.” He said before leaving with the hero he’d be working with.

At your agency, you find yourself unable to focus on anything. You sit at your desk tapping your nails against the surface. It will be fine, you trust the heroes at your agency to take care of Shinsou. You know Shinsou is smart and strong. You wish that you didn’t worry so much.

Your door opens and your secretary walks in. The look on their face makes your stomach drop. Without a word you already know it’s bad news. You had seen it before.

“Not him.” You said before you could stop the words.

“Shinsou, he’s on his way to the hospital. The villain got out of hand, the structure started to crumble-”

Standing up you run out, you had heard enough. You just needed to see him, he had to be okay. You wouldn’t know what to do if-

Rushing to the hospital you called Aizawa. He picked up and you can barely get a word out you’re so frantic.

“What happened?” He asked you could hear the fear in his voice. He knows that not many things shake you.

“Shinsou, it’s Shinsou.” You finally gasped out. You were able to tell him which hospital it was and Aizawa is already on his way.

Rushing into the building you find the front desk, Aizawa is already there and you’re thankful you don’t have to try and ask for information. Aizawa turns and sees you, as you approach him he grabs your shoulders.

“He’s in surgery now, he’s unstable but they’re hopeful.” He told you in a calm voice.

You let out a breath, he’s alive but there’s still a chance he might not make it. Tears begin to stream down your face. You have always done your best to put on a persona in public, you were a highly ranked pro hero people didn’t need to see you shaken up but you can’t stop yourself.

Aizawa asks quietly if there’s somewhere private to wait and the receptionist gives him directions. Your husband guides you through the halls before entering a room and sitting down on a love seat with you.

“I told you I should have been with him.” You cried as Aizawa pulled you into a hug. He held you close, one hand at the back of your neck and the other in the middle of your back. He presses your head against his chest and rests his head against yours. “If I was there he would be okay.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered against your ear. “He’s a strong kid, he’ll be okay.”

Time passes and you hold each other, tears streaming down both of your faces. Eventually, your breathing evens and you start to calm down. The thought of Shinsou on an operating table makes you sick but you feel more stable than before.

“Shouta, I’m sorry.” You say quietly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “It’s not your fault. You were right that I need to give him more independence. This could have happened even with me there.”

Your agency had sent in the report of what had happened, his injuries were caused by falling debris. A part of you thinks you could have stopped it in time but you also know that anything could have happened.

“It’s okay.” He said taking your hand in his. “I’m not upset at you. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regret telling you to let him go with someone else.”

You grip his hand in yours, pulling it to your lips to kiss the top of his hand. You stared into the dark eyes of the man you love, he looked just as worn out as you felt. The bags under his eyes and the redness worse than normal. You pulled him close, letting him rest on your shoulder.

“We’ll get through this.” You said. “Wait, Eri’s still at daycare!”

The realization that you had forgotten about your adopted daughter in all the chaos hit you, you tried to stand up but Aizawa keeps you from doing so.

“I already asked Yamada to watch her.” He reassured you.

“What would I do without you.” You sighed as you relaxed back into him.

More time passes before the doctors told you anything. Finally, you were told that he was out of surgery and in a room. The two of you didn’t hesitate to see him.

It broke your heart seeing him lying in the bed, bandages wrapped all over him. He had sustained quite a few injuries but the doctors said he would recover. You let out a breath of relief. Sitting down at his side you cradled his cheek, tears ran down your face.

You felt like a failure. When you took Shinsou in you promised to take care of him, keep him from harm, and here he was. You could feel Aizawa wrap his arms around your waist, as he tried to comfort you.

“He’ll be okay.” He said. You knew he would but it didn’t stop the overwhelming guilt. What kind of hero was you if you couldn’t protect your own son?

Every day at the beginning of visitor hours you went to sit at his bedside. After class Aizawa would join you for a while before you’d go home to spend time with Eri. Eri would ask about her big brother Shinsou but you would tell her that he was resting up so he could come home and be healthy. You knew the little girl had seen and heard worse but you never wanted to add onto that.

Finally, Shinsou woke up and when he did you were at his side, spilling apologies before he could even say anything. You held onto his hand as if you let go he would disappear.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to worry so much.” He said.

“Shinsou, I’m always going to worry about you. It doesn’t matter how old you are.” You told him. He gave you a small smile but you didn’t miss the way his eyes teared up.

“I’m okay now.” He said. You squeezed his hand with a smile.

Eri was more than ecstatic to have her big brother home but you told her before he came home to be careful with him because he was still healing. You smiled as she carefully hugged him acting as if the smallest movement would hurt him.

Aizawa and you laid in bed together, your head resting on his chest as you played with his hair. It felt good knowing that Shinsou was home and in his own bed.

Growing up you understood the danger of hero work. You knew that in a moment you could be dead, one wrong move that was it. You were okay with that, when you were young you hadn’t expected to live long. Then you met Aizawa and then the stakes felt bigger. If you died you would leave him behind. If he died he would leave you behind. It was hard to cope with that possibility.

You had thought that was the hardest thing then you adopted Eri and you realized that a villain could try to use her to hurt you or Aizawa. You constantly worried that Overhaul or his associates would try to come after her.

Then Shinsou came into your lives. He wanted to be a hero and of course, neither of you would stop him.

It was so much harder to fear for your child than to fear for yourself. It was so much easier to protect them than to watch them get hurt. But you had to learn. Shinsou wanted to be like you and Aizawa and it would be hypocritical to stop him from pursuing his dreams.

The most you could do was to teach him everything you could so he would be prepared to be the best hero he could be. You supposed that was a part of being a parent, learning to let your children make their own mistakes and learn. You just didn’t have much time to prepare for that considering you took Shinsou in at the age he was.

“Will it ever get any easier?” You ask your husband. He was a teacher and had been for a while. He was more prepared for this than you were.

“Hmm?” He questioned.

“Watching Shinsou get hurt. Watching him grow up and learn the hard way?” You said. Aizawa sighed, his hand moving to your back.

“Yes and no.” He answered. “It will always hurt to watch them get hurt but every time they come out of it you’ll know they’ll be more prepared for being a hero. Think about all of the times you got hurt when you were young.”

You remembered the fire in you. It didn’t matter if it was a sprain or if you had almost died you always came out of it with a fire in you to do better, to be stronger, to become a hero that couldn’t be felled. That could protect anyone.

“It’s so hard to watch someone else go through it.” You sighed.

“I know.” He said. “But we’ll always be here for him. He’ll have support through it all. Just think how much harder it would have been for him with his situation before this.”

Aizawa was right. He always was. Shinsou’s parents had been neglectful at best. It would always be hard being a hero but Shinsou would always have a loving family there for him and you could pride yourself on that.

“You always know what to say.” You smiled looking up at him. “Thank you.”

Aizawa smiled down at you, brushing his hand gently across your cheek. He leaned down pressing a kiss against your forehead. You knew that you could do this. You knew that you and Aizawa could provide Shinsou the sanctuary he needed to become a great hero. The sanctuary that Aizawa lacked when he was young. And no matter what happened you could have peace in that.

#aizawa x reader #shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shinsou hitoshi #aizawa shouta #bnha