#at this point it doesn’t mater that he was in middle school he needs to own up to all the shit he’s done (if the accusations are true) like. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atlabeth · 2 years

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here for you - pope heyward

summary: you and pope come from two completely different worlds, both with preconceived views of the other in mind. one night is all it takes for that to change.

a/n: I BROKE MY WRITING SLUMP W THIS!!!! oh my god it feels so good to finally write and post something. i was looking at prompts for inspo and this just came to me. and this blurb is based off of “I know we’re not... friends or anything, but... I'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to.”

i missed writing for u guys and i love pope so i hope u like this

wc: 2.2k

warning(s): reader's lowkey having a breakdown, unsupportive and pushy parents, stress, insecurity, just a lot of feels on reader's part. but this is hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

(credit to @sunnymaybank for the divider inspo pls go follow her she's amazingly talented in everything she does)

Pope Heyward has no idea what he’s doing.

You’re a kook. People call you a kook princess, actually, but popular, rich, party girl, and devastatingly beautiful are also things you go by. He’s pretty sure every guy on Kildare’s had the hots for you at some point or another, even some of the girls that go both ways. Pope’s certainly no stranger to that attraction.

Your family is one of the most well known on the island, flaunting old money that’s responsible for wings at private schools, funded island projects, hefty donations to struggling businesses, even eponymous scholarships at family alma maters. You’re the youngest of three in a line of Ivy Leaguers, and if gossip he’s heard while delivering groceries is anything to go off of, you’re expected to keep up the tradition.

And he’s Pope Heyward. Kildare born, Kildare bred, and in a couple decades, probably Kildare dead. His parents have high hopes for him, ambitions for college acceptances and scholarships that’ll get him out of the OBX and into making a name for himself. Pope wants it too, but as senior year drags on he’s forced himself to resign to the far more likely truth of a devastatingly normal existence.

He’s Pope Heyward. You’re you.

Yet here you are, crying alone at the beach in the middle of the night. And Pope has no idea what to do.

The only reason he’s even here right now is because JJ forgot to bring a cooler back from when they were surfing earlier in the day, and Pope drew the shortest straw. (They literally drew straws, and Pope’s pretty sure JJ cheated somehow.)

He thought he heard somebody as he was walking down to the beach, looking around the spot they’d been hanging out to make sure no one had stolen it. Sure enough it was still there, but as he started on his path he saw something else.

Someone else — you. Your quiet sobs are carried through the night breeze, and Pope feels his brows furrowing in concern. He recognizes you right away, the lemon-print camisole top something he’s seen you in around the island a thousand times. It’s in no way suitable for a December night, and he has no idea why you’re here. At 11:37 pm.

Against his better judgment, he speaks up.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Your head immediately whips around, a hand already raised to try and rid yourself of the evidence of emotion. “I didn’t know anyone else was here.” Your voice is just on the edge of watery, anything further held back by purposeful attempts.

“I, um— I just got here,” Pope explains, continuing forward until he comes to a stop beside you. “I was… it doesn’t matter. The question is, what are you doing out here?”

“What does it look like?” you ask dryly. “Just having a fun little breakdown. No worries.” You see that his eyes are filled with actual concern, and you sigh as you try to ease it a bit. “I’m fine. Just personal kook stuff that you wouldn’t care about.”

Pope sits down in the sand next to you, one leg pulled up so his knee is close to his chest and the other laying flat. “Try me.”

“You’re Pope, right?” you ask, and he nods in confirmation. “I think this is the first time we’ve actually had a conversation. Talk about good impressions.”

“You’re dodging the question,” he says upfront, and you sigh again.

“It’s college,” you admit, not completely sure why you’re spilling this to him. “My, um— Princeton REA came out today, and I was rejected. Straight up, not even deferred. My parents flipped out on me, I locked myself in my room, they literally took the door off the hinges, flipped out on me some more, and now I’m here. It’s been a really fun night, actually.”

He frowns. That's a lot to take in, so he just focuses on what he knows. “But you’re like, top of your class! And you’re legacy, right? And I mean, super rich, so—”

“Pope,” you interrupt, laughing a bit, “I did it on purpose.”

Now he’s really confused, his expression conveying it all. “You what?”

“I flubbed my application on purpose,” you repeat. “I spent months working with the college coach they hired on my essays, even longer going over them with my parents, and literally everything I’ve done in school has been to try and get into Princeton. That nonprofit I started sophomore year to help with hurricane relief, every AP I’ve taken, god, even running track — it’s all been for college. But when it was time to submit Princeton, I changed all my essays last minute to shitty papers I wrote in thirty minutes and deleted all my extracurriculars.”

His eyes go completely wide, his brows shooting to his hairline. “Are you insane?”

“No,” you say. “Just tired of the bullshit that goes on in my family.”

Pope’s obviously still in shock at what seems like blatant disregard for your future, so you go on. “I don’t need an Ivy to do what I want to do. I don’t want to be surrounded by people like my parents anymore — I think I’ll actually go insane in the life they want me to live. Just— just a housewife on Figure Eight with some guy that couldn’t care less about me, having kids that they’ll want me to set down the same path.” You stare at the ground, hands clenching into fists in your lap. “And I’ll die before I let them do that to me.”

“Well… where do you want to go?” Pope asks.

You huff a laugh. “Somewhere far away from here. I think UC Irvine is calling my name.”

“Irvine’s a great school. Think your parents would be happy with that?”

“My brother went to Harvard, my other brother went to Yale, both my parents are former Tigers — it’s where they met, actually. It’s just always been expected that I would end up at an Ivy. Everytime I told them I didn’t want to, they just brushed it off. Said I would be thankful when my future’s set for me.” You purse your lips. “So to answer your question, no. They would not be happy.”

“God,” Pope mutters. “Your family collects Ivies like Pokemon cards.”

He realizes a bit too late that maybe he shouldn’t be making references like that in front of the girl he’s subconsciously trying to impress, but that anxiety fades away when you laugh. “Yeah. It’s kind of ridiculous.”

“But…” Pope shakes his head, still dumbfounded at the decision. “Why would you do that? Why would you actively ruin a chance people would kill for?”

“My family sucks,” you say bluntly. “I mean, my brothers are fine, but my parents are some of the most superficial people you’ll ever meet. They cover it up with smiles and fancy parties and tax-deductible donations, but all they care about is status. They’re more worried about losing their millions than losing their children — we’re like pawns to them, little chess pieces they move to try and secure their future.” You look Pope right in the eye, and shrug. “And I’m not going to be a part of that. I’m going to pave my own way without them — I don’t care if they cut me off. As soon as I get my diploma, I’m leaving. Far, far away from this island.”

Pope’s oddly stricken by your story, but he finds shining admiration poking through that sea of emotions. Most kooks, at least the ones he’s met, are more than willing to coast by in the life that’s been handed to them without a second thought. But you’re different, and he finds himself relating to you in this moment more than he thought he ever would. When he speaks after a long pause, he knows that he means every word.

“I know we’re not... friends or anything, but... I'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to.” He gestures with his hand. “About this mess you’re in.”

“Why?” you ask, frowning. “You barely even know me. Besides my entire college life story, I guess.”

Pope shrugs with a slight smile. “Kook or not, you seem like a good person. Besides,” he falters a bit, but continues anyway, “I’ve been through it too. But you don’t really look like you have a great support system going on.”

That gets a laugh out of you, though mostly mirthless. “How could you tell?”

“I think it’s the way you did your hair today,” he says, and him playing it completely straight is what worms a smile, a genuine one, out.

“Thank you, Pope.” Your words are surprisingly earnest, the fragility you bore when he first showed up shedding like a chrysalis. “For letting me talk. It really helped.”

“Any time,” he says, and he shocks himself because once again, he means it completely. “I have a feeling this will all work out for you, though. Just… keep going.”

You nod. “I’ll try.”

Pope stands up and offers a hand out to you, along with a small smile. “I can drive you home if you want. Your parents are probably worried about you.”

“I doubt that,” you say dryly, but you take his help anyway. He pulls you up and the two of you start walking, your hands still intertwined. You don’t even realize until you feel him pull away, his movements becoming slightly more stiff. Your hand feels cold without his in it, and you have to fight the urge to reach for him again. You don’t realize how starved you’ve been for warmth until you get a taste of it

You look at Pope with an odd expression, a mix of admiration, gratitude, and longing (for what, you’re not so sure). He meets your eyes with another smile, and you conclude that Pope Heyward is a special kind of sun.

Pope gets in the driver’s side and you the passenger’s when you reach his car, and he waits until you buckle your seatbelt before he starts the car and backs out of the spot.

The ride consists of surprisingly comfortable silence as Pope navigates the way to Figure Eight, the quiet only broken by the occasional directions you give him. He stops the car a few houses — mansions, honestly — from yours, figuring that you would just get into more trouble if your parents saw who you were with.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car. “And the talk. You’re… you’re a pretty great guy, Pope.”

“You’re a pretty great girl yourself,” he says back. You smile at him and you’re about to close the door when something hits him.

“Wait!” he exclaims, and you pause with your hand on the door. “Um— do you wanna hang out with us sometime? The pogues— my friends, they’re really cool. Way cooler than anyone on Figure Eight. Well, besides you, but—”

Your smile grows a bit and you tilt your head to the side slightly. “You think they would even want me there? Kook princess and all?”

He nods vigorously. (Pope’s not exactly sure, but he wants to spend time with you more than anything. He can deal with anything his friends have to say afterwards.) “Yeah. They’d really like you.”

Your gaze lingers on him for a moment longer than it should before you nod. “I’d like that.”

Pope breaks out in a grin as he feels his face heat up. “Cool.”

“I’ll see you around, Pope,” you say, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your hair. “Have a good night. Thanks again.”

“Any time. You too.”

You close the door and he waits until you’re out of his sight, then drives a little down the street just to catch you walking inside your house. Satisfied that you’re home safe, he turns the car around and starts the drive back to the Cut.

By the time Pope gets back to the Chateau it’s almost been an hour, and all his friends look up from the table when he walks in. The three of them are in the middle of an UNO game, and though Pope’s a little offended they started without him, he figures he deserves it for taking so long.

“Dude, where were you?” JJ asks, only allowing a glance away from his cards as he plays one of them. “It doesn’t take that long to get a cooler.”

Pope hesitates for a moment as he tries to think of what to say. His friends all know about you — everyone does — but that doesn’t mean they like you. They only really see you as a kook, a symbol of everything that’s against them. They don’t know the real you, never lucky enough to witness the inner crystals of the geode you resemble.

“Just ended up helping a friend,” he decides on as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge. “Ended up taking a little longer than I thought.”

Kiara frowns as she looks at him, doing a double take at his empty hands. “Pope, where is the cooler?”

“Oh my god,” he mutters, hand freezing in the middle of unscrewing the bottle cap. “I—”

“You forgot it!” John B laughs, and Pope just shakes his head in disbelief. “You had one job, man!”

“I knew I should’ve rigged it for Kie instead,” JJ mutters, and Kiara shoots him a dirty look. Pope stifles a laugh as he walks over to them and flops down onto the couch next to John B.

“Sorry. I’ll go back tomorrow morning.”

Pope doesn’t really care that he forgot. He picked up something a lot more valuable.

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz

obx: @pogueslandia @lilgoddesshines

#pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x you #pope x reader #pope heyward #outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx x reader #pope heyward obx #obx #sadie writes #is this me venting my college stress through a fic?#mayhaps #dont mind me casually posting this at 1am

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x0401x · 4 years

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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Q&A

Simple Questions for Seigi-kun (Parts 1 and 2)

Thank you very much for these questions from several people. We had Seigi-kun take a look at everyone’s questions right away and answer as many as he could! Not all of them can be published, but please enjoy Seigi-kun’s answers!

Q.: Seigi-kun looks good with black short hair, but is there any hairstyle that he looks up to? It does not seem to have changed much from when he was a child, but there is this impression that people often do college debuts, so here goes this simple question. The photo on the cover of volume 6 was wonderful. His set-back hair looked very good on him. (Black Short Hair-san)

A.: Hello! I guess it’s the first time I was told that my hair style looks good on me aside from Nakata-san and Richard; thank you very much! As for an image I look up to, huuum, there wasn’t any in particular when I was little, but nowadays, I look up to the two I just mentioned. They’re of different vectors and just really cool! Ah… this is embarrassing, so please keep it a secret. I have the feeling that they already know, though.

Q.: Any words you want to send to your past self from before meeting Richard? (Inu-san)

A.: “Nakata Seigi, you might be reckless, but you technically haven’t done anything wrong! Probably! Hum, you’re mostly thoughtless! But you’re not mistaken! If you see someone being attacked in a park, don’t hesitate to shout and go help him! Also, you might be compensated for doing your best at cooking. Good on you.”

Eh? There’s something from Richard too? “Seigi-kun, you are already passionate enough, but make sure to take a better look at your surroundings. Make sure to cherish yourself. Also, if you get invited to work at a TV station in Shibuya, make sure to just accept it.” Ah, yeah, yeah! I’m also counting on myself for that last one.

Q.: I am a college student just like Seigi-kun. When I have free time, I play video games, read books and talk about fun things with my friends. Seigi-kun, what do you do? Do you read books about gemstones and study after all? (Anzu-san)

A.: Hello! Indeed, during my free time when I didn’t have classes, there were times when I’d do self-study and learn about stones, but when I got together with my friends in the cafeteria or lounge, we’d get roused up over trivial talk. Everyone had a rough idea of the timing they should focus on their studies, so when I think about it nowadays, that might’ve been a “let’s make racket while we can” kind of mood. Looking back on it now, it was fun.

Q.: I am bound to fail every time I make sweets. If there is any trick to making sweets, please tell me. (Satou-san from the Heavens)

A.: Aah… I feel like someone’s already asked me a similar question. Ahem. T-That’s right! First things first, let’s try to stop treating “sweets” like they’re special! I guess this is the trick I can think of. They’re simply like an arithmetic test or a chemistry experiment; it just so happens that, if you mix up the set ingredients, a chemical reaction occurs and you reach the same results. If you lead it to the decided answer, you’ll manage to make something tasty, is all. Try to stick strictly to the recipe, and if it still doesn’t turn out right, I think it’s good to do a reflection on where you might’ve gotten it wrong. Eh…? If it doesn’t go well even then…? Aah… I’m gonna leave my phone number here, so if you have anything you want to eat… Eh? Richard, you want me to knock it off? That’s right. It’s not like I always have time. I almost did something irresponsible. Sorry. I’m cheering for you! See ya!

Q.: Where do you start washing your body from? (Yukinekoya-san)

A.: I’ve never thought about that~! It’s from the hair, but that’s with shampoo and doesn’t count as my body, so… *moves his body as if scrubbing it* I start washing from the neck and ears! But what’re you gonna do by asking that?

Q.: What’s your favorite meat? (Reihenbach-san)

A.: If its for Japanese curry, pork! If it’s for Sri Lanka’s curry, fish or chicken! If it’s for sukiyaki, cattle! I love all kinds of meat! But what flashes in my mind regarding “my favorite meat” is the meat and potato stew that Hiromi used to make, so I guess it’s gotta be beef. There wasn’t much meat in it, so I was able to taste it rather well.

Q.: I am a middle school teacher; Seigi-kun, who was the teacher that left the biggest impression on you? Please leave out Richard-sensei! (Kikuchi-san)

A.: Ah, that question is relatively easy to answer. It’s someone named Yamazaki-sensei, who was my class teacher in high school. He’s a graduate from the faculty of economics at Kasaba University, and he’d compliment me at random. Like, “You sure are working hard” or, “You’re so smart”. So I got cheeky, admired him, and when I told him I wanted to be like him, he said, “Then, how about you aim for my alma mater?” and I replied with, “Yes!”… Since Kasaba is a private institution, it was just a suggestion where I was getting ahead with my feelings, but though Hiromi made a bitter face, she wasn’t against it. Maybe she thought it was better than having her son say that he wanted to start working after graduating from middle school. Sensei was transferred when I was in my first year in university, but I hope he’s doing well.

Q.: Seigi-kun, if you were to compare Richard to an animal, which do you think it would be? (Himawari-san)

A.: If Richard were an animal… I wonder which. Richard feels a bit like an animal even now, so it’s hard, but I’d say human…? No, Richard is a human being. My bad, my bad. An animal with whooshy golden hair and blue eyes… I once had the feeling that the air about him is a bit like a creature named miacis, which I saw before in some illustrated reference book. It’s an ancient animal and seems to be the ancestor of dogs, cats and the like, and its exact appearance isn’t known anymore, but when I think of it as the origin of the beauty of all the animals I like, I wonder if he wouldn’t be something along those lines… Richard, Richard? Why won’t you look at me in the eye?

Q.: Is there any time you laughed the most when you were with Richard-san? Alternatively, if there was any time where you ended up laughing without thinking, please tell me! I am rooting for you! (Heartbreak Akira-san)

A.: Eeh…? Is it okay for me to talk about this…? Ah, I’ve received permission, so I’ll say it. Erm, this is a story from when I was studying French; I suddenly felt like doing a prank when I couldn’t make any progress at all, so I asked Richard-sensei something nonsensical, like, “If you don’t mind, please say ‘steamed bun’ in a really French-like way; I think it’ll definitely sound French to me”. And then the answer that came at me was a perfectly French-styled “steamed bun”… I died of laughter. Sorry for being too descriptive with the details. If you have a French friend close to you, I think you should try to make the same request. I think it won’t sound like Japanese to you. It’s already a bit amusing just remembering it. Hey, Richard. You didn’t find it all that funny? Ah, it was funny when I rolled over laughing? Then I guess we can call it even.

Q.: What are the dishes and desserts that you want to try challenging yourself to make? (Tsugiumi-san)

A.: I get interested in the stuff that I think looks delicious, but they’re a little different from the things I decide to try my hand at making. Richard, is there anything you wanna eat? I’ve noticed this recently: I don’t have much will to make stuff only I want to eat, but if it’s something that someone important to me feels like eating, I suddenly get motivated. That’s why, if there’s… Ah, ah, why’re you punching the cushion?

Q.: Looking at Richard-san and Jeffrey-san, are there any moments or points in which you feel that they are similar? (Yoshimura-san)

A.: Yoshimura-san, hello. There are; from my perspective, there are many. There sure are, but… from the face that the person next to me is making, it seems better not to say too much about it. Let me put this one on hold.

Q.: What was your favorite school lunch menu? For lunch boxes, what were your favorite contents? (Nanatsuji-san)

A.: Hello! I used to like all the school lunch dishes, but as expected, curry was what made me happiest. As for lunch boxes, I’d mostly get an allowance to buy the sandwiches and lunch boxes I liked, and whenever I got more than 500 yen, I’d get to buy a large serving of hayashi rice and would be happy over it. After all, the servings have to be big for a school boy, if nothing else.

Q.: If you switched bodies with Richard upon waking up, what is the first thing you would do? (Sango-san)

A.: Eh...? How? Would it be magic or something? I’d probably think, “Is this a dream?” and go back to sleep. But why would I be in Richard’s body...? I wonder if my head would malfuction from talking too much about how beautiful he is and things would turn out like that. If I got cocky and tried to imitate Richard, I feel like he’d give me one hell of a cold look with those elegant eyes of his, so hum, I wouldn’t do anything, just sleep until the magic wore off. I also think that Richard would be happier when I have the face of Nakata Seigi rather than his own.

Q.: When did you get your growth spurt? (Middle Schooler-san)

A.: Does that mean the time when I got taller? I think it was either in my third year of middle school or first year of high school. It was neither too late nor early among my friends, so while not minding it much, I ended up surpassing Hiromi’s height.

Q.: Seigi-kun, hello. ♪ Seigi-kun, what kind of fashion do you like? Where do you normally buy clothes? Also, have you changed your style or been influenced after meeting Richard? If you can, please tell us. (*^^*) (Yuriko-san)

A.: Hello! Fashion, huuh... To be honest, before I started working in Étranger, I used to feel like I only needed to keep my clothes as clean as necessary and that they were okay as long as they didn’t look sloppy, but as expected, once you enter a jewelry shop, the number of clothes with high collars increases. Then, I met Richard, and ever since I started working for him, my opportunities to wear a suit increased, but what he often tells me is, “Wear what you like however you like the most you can within the limits”, and speaking of which, I kinda seem to look up to suits with a large silhouette and felt hats, like the ones people used to wear in prewar days. I think this is probably the influence of an actor my Grandma liked. In the past, there was a black-and-white photo of him decorating the apartment where Grandma lived. It would’ve been great if I could’ve showed myself wearing a suit to Grandma.

Q.: Seigi-kun, hello! A question for you. Seigi-kun’s “senpai”, Vincent-san, is a user of Jeet Kune Do, but you are also a black belt at Karate, so I am very curious about what would happen if the two of you actually fought. Since you both master your own matrial arts, so I feel that I would be able to see a cool fight between you. Also, this is just my ponderings, but Seigi-kun, I want you to tell me, from your point of view, how strong you think Vincent-san is and what changes you have of winning. (Monaka-san)

A.: Hello! Erm, when you say “fight”, is it okay to interpret it as a head-on brawl? I think you probably do not practice any martial arts, Monaka-san, so I am going to answer based on that: martial arts abilities and fight abilities are completely different. See, the rules of each martial art are pre-determined, and if you fight within them, you won’t suffer serious injuries and you can decide who wins or loses, but there’s none of that in a brawl, so... Also, I believe both parties know that, if a person who did martial arts to some extent hits someone in earnest, it’ll result in something that can’t be undone, so I think they can’t bring themselves to throw fists with each other. But on the other hand, since we can tell to some degree that we both seem to have have this awereness, I think it’s okay if I so much as throw a paper ball at the back of his head. Vince-san might hit me back, and then I guess I’d fling a straw bag at him next. We might get along a bit better if we both let it out. Sorry that it’d be the light type! I hope this served as an answer.

Q.: A question for Nakata Seigi-kun! To be precise: is there anything that makes you go, “This is the one thing I want to tell Richard-shi!!”~? Even if it is something that is normally hard to say, you might be able to say it here. (*^^*) (Sui-san)

A.: “I’m happy when you eat my pudding; thanks! But I’m begging, for health reasons, that you’re at least careful not to eat too much...! I wanna be with you for a long time. Please. And... also... thanks for always. I’m so grateful to you that I can’t say it enough. It’d be great if I could.” This is it! Aah, that was embarrassing. Eh? “You’re always telling me that much”, you say? Is that so?

Q.: What is your favorite sweet? (Tanaka Milk Tea-san)

A.: That’s a difficult theme... I don’t seem to have any that I’m obsessed with, but anything looks delicious to me if it’s a sweet that Richard eats with relish, so I grow to like it. But when Richard doesn’t eat all of a sweet and leaves some of it, I go, “Could it be he left it for me because he thought I’d like it?” and they also turn out to be so, so tasty. Basically, I like everything. Unless I buy and eat it by myself.

Q.: Nice to meet you; as Seigi-kun faces people very straightforward and honestly, I read every volume while confirming over and over that I also want to live on facing people like that. Is there anything that the aforementioned Seigi-kun always puts in his bag? (Sumiyaki Yuuma-san)

A.: Sumiyaki-san, hello! Being told that I face people honestly is flattering. I do think it’d be great if I actually manage that, but the “honesty” I’m thinking about is my own concept of it, so it’s not like this honesty is something only comfortable for the other person. That’s why being told so makes me all the happier. Thank you. This is from after meeting Richard, but what I always have in my bag is candy. Royal-milk-tea-flavored ones. When I don’t have them, I pack in some other sweet, and just from thinking, “I’d give him this if he were here”, it kinda feels like having a fragment of him with me even when he’s not by my side, and it’s reassuring. It helps me out. Other than that, my phone. Thanks for the question!

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #the case files of jeweler richard #jeweler richard #richard ranashinha de vulpian #nakata seigi #richard #fanbook #my translation

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dessarious · 4 years

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Transfer AU

So it looks like most people want to see Damian in Paris first. Thanks for all the feedback! Here’s some of my brainstorming. Any or all of this may change before or while I write but here’s what’s going through my head at the moment lol. I can go ahead and start a tag list too so let me know if you want to be tagged when I start posting the story.

The JL keeps hearing rumors out of Paris and while they don’t believe any of it they decide they should send someone to check.

Wonder Woman is adamant they send someone but refuses to say anything else because she believes that Miraculous secretes should only be shared by holders or the guardian.

Bruce uses this as an excuse to broaden Damian’s horizons (read force him to socialize) and sends him to Paris as part of an exchange program.

Damian’s host family is the Agrests. Adrien begged and Nathalie convinced Gabriel there was a slim possibility of it happening. And if it did they Adrien would be happy and keep them occupied.

Damian doesn’t particularly like Adrien at first.

He pretty much despises him once he gets to know him and stays away from the mansion as much as possible.

He hates the class.

He goes under Damian Drake (since Tim is usually too sleep deprived to give him too much crap over it) in order to not draw too much attention. Only Nathalie and Gabriel know he’s a Wayne.

When Lila starts lying to try and impress him he tells her in no uncertain terms that he won’t tolerate her BS. If she leaves him alone he’ll reciprocate. (At this point he thinks the entire class is on her side and straight up does not want to deal with the drama since he’s only there temporarily)

Marinette is still relegated to the back of the class and Damian ends up sitting next to her. She doesn’t really talk to him and he’s fine with that. She’s his favorite person in the class (not saying much) because she doesn’t bother him. It’s about a week before he pays attention to the classes attitude towards Marinette.

Marinette brings in croissants for everyone but Lila claims to have a gluten allergy and the entire class gangs up on Mari about how she’s trying to poison Lila after Marinette starts pointing out all the products with gluten Lila had been eating just that week. She claims they were all gluten free alternatives and the class buys it.

Damian goes down to Mari and grabs a croissant telling their classmates they’re all a bunch of idiots. Adrien tells him to just leave it alone, her lies aren’t hurting anyone, blah, blah, blah. Damian’s opinion of him drops even further.

He escorts Marinette back to their seats and they share the croissants meant for the whole class.

Now that he knows she’s not taken in by Lila they get to know each other and since Damian hates being around Adrien he spends most of his time with Mari. Once they’ve bonded a bit Mari opens up about everything Lila’s done and what Adrien told her. (Mari has lost her crush on Adrien at this point)

Damian starts planning where to hide bodies. Lots of bodies.

Instead he talks Mari into making a plan to expose Lila and she questions him about how Gotham’s heroes deal with their villains. Damian assumes she wants the information to take down Lila.

Hawkmoth has been mysteriously quiet since his arrival and the exaggerated accounts of the Akumas he’s heard from Adrien have left him less than impressed. Especially since all he seems to focus on is his crush on LB and how cool CN is.

Mari seems to be content to ignore the subject altogether.

So when an Akuma finally shows up in the middle of school and Damian loses track of Mari he’s extremely agitated.

He still does his job though and observes the fight. He’s impressed with LB’s intelligence and skill and down right pissed at Chat showing off and almost getting everyone killed.

When he tries to talk to Mari about it (praising LB) she gets all weird and closed off. He assumes she doesn’t like LB but doesn’t pry. In truth it was just so nice to have someone actually like her for her that she doesn’t want to hear him praise and fall in love with her alter ego just like everyone else.

The next time an Akuma happens Damian and Mari are together and she can’t shake him to transform,

Chat hasn’t shown up and she knows from experience he won’t make an appearance until she does. So she ends up transforming in front of Damian. Once the fight is over she makes him swear he won’t tell anyone then proceeds to avoid him for the next few days.

Damian finally says screw it and goes to visit her at night as Robin.

Chat shows up after they’ve been talking for awhile and gets really agitated by his presence.

He insists that he and LB can handle things just fine and gets really defensive when Robin starts asking him how they’re planning on taking down HM It never really occurs to Chat to question why Robin was at Mari’s house of all places.

Damian reveals himself to Mari because he trusts her and he knows exactly how alone she is on both sides of the mask and wants to be able to support her in every aspect of her life.

Mari is hesitant about bringing the league in and asks him to wait for her to talk to the Guardian to see what he thinks. Much as she would like the help her identity has already been compromised and she’s not sure if it's safe.

The Guardian wants to meet Damian

The next Akuma attack Robin shows up and helps LB. Chat doesn’t show up at all trying to prove the LB needs him. She doesn’t.

Mari takes Damian to meet Mater Fu and they agree that he should take over the Black Cat Miraculous. He’s also given permission to utilize his family to try and track down HM but not to bring in other members of the league at this time. Fu tells them who Chat is so that they can get the ring and Damian has to be talked out of strangling Adrien in his sleep.

Damian takes the ring and Mari is there as LB to tell Plagg what’s going on.

Damian keeps camembert at Mari’s place so Adrien doesn’t get suspicious. It’s not like he’s ever in the house anyway.

Plagg and Tikki are ecstatic that they get to spend so much time together. Plagg’s just happy his new chosen has a brain.

Damian proves to be incredibly efficient as the new Black Cat.

He tells his family about the situation, but only them. He starts utilizing their talents to try and track HM.

Mari has a lot of very detailed information about Akuma attacks that they give to Tim and Babs to analyze.

#maribat #miraculous dc crossover #marinette dupen chang #damian wayne #bffmaridami

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moonlightsbeams · 4 years

Text

The Queen’s Court Chapter 1

The turtle creature awakes, horror filling his eyes. Flying out of the gramophone, he goes to the Guardian, who looks at the creature. “Wayzz, what’s wrong?”

“Master Fu, it’s Nooroo. I- he’s resurfaced, but.. He’s being used by a powerful negative energy, I fear that Paris is in immense danger if Nooroo’s new owner is left unchecked.”

The Guardian nods, and motions to Wayzz. The Guardian raises his hand to transform, but is struck down by crippling pain.

With a shaking hand, he opens the gramophone, surveying his choices. He deftly selects the Ladybug and the Black Cat miraculous, but falters. “I cannot send them out alone, can I, Wayzz?”

Wayzz tilts his head. “I’m not sure I understand, Master.”

“While the Black Cat and Ladybug are strong, I cannot send them out against the Butterfly alone.”

“But who should aid them, master?”

Mater Fu examines his choices, and reaches for one last miraculous box. “The Bee is the perfect choice.”

------

Chloe Bourgeois knew she was perfect. Her daddy told her all the time, and all of Paris knew it too. She prided herself on always looking like it, and nothing, nothing stopped her from being perfect.

So what the hell is she going to do?

She stares in distaste at the situation in front of her. A large garbage truck is rumbling by, trash stacked precariously out of it, and an elderly man in a hawaiin shirt trots next to it. She does not want to go anywhere near the truck but.. She doesn’t like his chances if that trash falls onto him. Her decision is forced into motion by the trash toppling out of the truck.

Muttering “Ew, ew, ew, EW!” under her breath she darts close to the man, grabbing him by the nape of his shirt and quickly pulling him out of the way of the falling trash.

After thoroughly examining herself to make sure she’s still perfect, she turns to the old man, unsure on what to tell him.

Luckily for her, the man speaks up, bowing his head in gratitude. “Thank you so much for saving me, young lady. That trash would have severely injured me, and definitely would’ve humiliated me. You truly are courageous.”

Chloe pauses by the compliment, a genre of which she’s.. Unfamiliar with. She quickly preens, trying to hide her genuine pleasure. “Of course I am! I- I couldn’t just let it happen. I’m going to tell my daddy about how ridiculous these trash workers are!”

The older man nods, a thoughtful smile on his face. “A good use of your power, young lady.”

She snorts, unable to think of anything else to say. “Whatever, I need to get to school.”

She storms off, feeling slightly better than she was before.

School was uneventful, except for Marinette Dupain-Cheng thinking that she could steal Chloe’s spot behind her Adrikins! And then some new girl had the audacity to tell her off! She was going to have to put them in their place.

She sulks all the way back to the hotel, and throws herself down on her bed. “Ugh, could this day get ANY worse?”

She rolls over and is greeted by a red and black box that was definitely not there before. “What’s this? It looks old, so maybe it’s an expensive gift for me?”

She gently opens the box, and is immediately blinded by a large flash of yellow light. After it clears up, there’s a… giant bee in her room.

Chloe shrieks, throwing herself across the room. “WHAT??? BUG?? BIG BEE!!!”

“My queen, please calm down!” The bee reassures her. “My name is Pollen, I’m the kwami for the bee miraculous!”

“The bee WHAT!” Chloe screams, holding a pillow in front of her like a shield.

“The bee miraculous!” Pollen squeaks. “With it, you become a superhero, my queen!”

Chloe lowers the pillow, peeking out behind it. “A-a, superhero?”

Pollen nods. “Indeed, my queen! You will also fight along two other heros, with powers of their own! Your power is Venom, the power to immobilize anyone you want!”

“How do I turn into this superhero?”

“First, put the miraculous in your hair and say, ‘Pollen, buzz on!’ The detransformation is ‘Buzz Off!’” Pollen instructs, a reassuring smile on her face.

Chloe goes back to bed, picking up the red and black box. She pulls out a silver bee shaped comb. She tucks it into her hair. “Pollen, buzz on!”

“My queen I still have to tell you-”

Chloe knew exactly what to do while transforming, after all, Adrikins forced her to watch far too many anime shows. After her beautiful and stunning transformations, she examines her suit. Her suit is a yellow base, with a few black stripes that dip in the middle. Her gloves end at her elbows, and are lined with black faux fur. Her mask covers her eyes, and is a yellow honeycomb pattern. Her hair is pulled into a low ponytail, slightly curlier than it was before. She spins around, as translucent wings draped like a cape flutter behind you “This is…”

“AMAZING!!” Chloe squeals, admiring herself. “Pollen, I’m beautiful!” She looks around, noticing her disappearance. “Pollen?”

Before she can look for Pollen, her phone buzzes with an emergency alert. “Giant stone monster rampaging around Paris? That sounds like a job for a superhero!”

She finally notices a top slung around her waist. “What does this do? OH NO IT’S SPINNING!” Chloe quickly figures out how to operate the top, and swings out of her window. “Look out, Paris, here I come!”

She lands on a building, examining the scene around her. “Yikes, the police have no idea what they’re doing, huh?”

Suddenly, a scream cuts through the air. Someone slams into Chloe, knocking her down. The person jumps up, and reaches a hand out to Chloe. “I’m so, so sorry! I- I just haven’t gotten a knack for the staff yet! I’m um, guessing, you’re one of the other superheroes?”

Chloe’s first instinct is to snap at the girl, insulting her on everything and anything. But, she shouldn’t act like herself, right? Secret identities are the most important thing about superheroes, right? So she takes the girl's hand and gives her a smile. “You’re fine! It took me way too long to figure out how to use my top. And yeah, I’m…” What’s my name? What had Pollen called me again? “My Queen”?

“Queen Bee. And you are?”

The girl blushes, tugging on one of her twin braids. “I have no idea. All I know is that some cat..bug..thing told me I was a superhero, and I turned into this leather… furry!”

Chloe snorts, and takes a moment to notice her costume. A leather bodysuit similar to her, except that the girl has glove fingers pointed like claws and kneehigh boots. The girl has a cute half cloak with a blue cat paw fastening the hood. And..

Chloe gasps. “Oh. My. Goodness. Do you have cat ears and a tail??”

The girl blushes, her ears flattening in embarrassment. “Yeah.. I guess it’s ‘cause it’s the Cat Miraculous? It’s super embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, chatonne,” Queen Bee teases. She’s not going to unleash the full Chloe treatment, but she can’t not tease her.. “It’s purr-fectly cute!”

The girl’s face reddens, but she groans at the pun. She opens her mouth to retort, but is interrupted by the roar of the monster. “We’d better take care of this, huh?”

Queen Bee nods, a determined smile spread across her face. “Let’s go!”

The two make their way over to a stadium, lading in front of what looks like a golem made of rocks, chasing...Kim?

“Chatonne!” yells Queen Bee. “Can you get Ki- the boy away from the monster?”

“On it!” she shouts back, expanding her pole to stop the monster from getting Kim.

“Good work, chatonne!”

“Hey, Queen Bee, aren’t we supposed to have another..” As if summoned, a blonde boy in a red and black spotted bodysuit and a black cape draped off of one shoulder lands next to Queen Bee.

“Am..I late?” He asks, clearly nervous. Nervous of what? The monster..or her?

Chloe would chew him out, asking where he’s been.. But Queen Bee wouldn’t. Queen Bee simply rolls her eyes and smirks at him. “Haven’t missed much, bug boy. So, you’ve got anything up your sleeve?”

“Um..” The boy launches a...yo-yo.. At the stone monster. Seriously? A yo-yo? Was the cat miraculous the only one with a sensible weapon? As soon as the yoyo makes contact with the monster, it roars again and..

“IT GROWS EVERY TIME YOU HIT IT?!?!?” The cat girl yells, staring in disbelief. “HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT A MONSTER THAT GROWS IF YOU HIT IT??”

Queen Bee curses under her breath. Cat girl had a point. Her plan was just to beat it until the cops could apprehend it.. But where would they even put it anyway?

“Wait!” The bug boy calls. Cat girl and Queen Bee turn to him. “What was my power again.. Oh! Lucky Charm!”

Queen Bee watches as the boy throws his yo-yo in the air and gets.. A wetsuit. “Planning on going swimming, bug boy?” she quips. The momentary confusion is disrupted by a giant stone fist swinging down. Chloe and the boy roll aside, narrowly missing being flattened.

“Oh! I have a power too!” The cat girl yells. “Cataclysm!” The girl's hand is now encompassed with dark energy.

Queen Bee dodges another fist. “What does it do?” she yells.

“Destroys anything I touch!”

“Seriously?” the boy groans. “You get to destroy anything and I get a wetsuit?”

“Where do you think the akuma is?” Cat girl shouts.

“The what?” Pollen did not mention anything called an akuma.

“The thing that turned whoever’s actually in there.. Into that!”

Huh. Maybe Chloe should’ve paid more attention to what Pollen was saying.

“By the way, who are you two?” The boy yells.

“I think introductions are necessary when we’re being attacked by a giant monster!” Queen Bee retorts.

“It’d be easier to call you something other than bee girl and cat girl!”

He has a point. “Call me Queen Bee, bug boy.”

“I’m Princess Kitten!” Comes a shout. Seems cat girl decided on a name.

“Well, if the two of you are going with a royalty theme, who am I to mess it up? Call me.. Sir Cocinelle!”

“Why? Are you some knight in spotted armor?”

He actually perks up at the remark. Oh no, Queen Bee can’t make fun of someone that wholesome. “I would be honored to be your trusted knight, my queen!”

Wait.. “Guys I have a plan!” She shouts. “Meet me at the top of the stadium!”

“Okay, but make it quick!” Princess Kitten yells back. “I have only 5 more minutes until I detransform!”

Yeah. Chloe should’ve really listened to Pollen. After some tricky jumps, the trio made it to the top. “So, I have some weird ‘ladybug vision’, and I think the akuma is in that fist,” Sir Cocinelle points at one of the fists.

“You’re probably right, Sir Cocinelle.” Queen Bee appraises, noticing the boost in his confidence. Is- is this kid okay? “Okay, so my power is Venom. I can freeze the monster. I was thinking, once I do that, Sir Coccinelle could pull him down with the yo-yo, and you could use that ‘ladybug vision’ to force open the fist while he’s down. Princess Kitten, can you ‘cataclysm’ the akuma and..” She notices the two staring at her. “What?”

Sir Coccinelle speaks up. “Nothing, it’s just, you’re really good at this. It’s like you’re a natural.”

Queen Bee flushes. “Oh. Um..My dadd- my dad works..in a leadership position. I guess I picked up some stuff. Does the plan not work or…”

Princes Kitten shakes her head. “I think you’re great! The plan! The plan is great!”

Queen Bee smiles at her, murmuring, “Thank you, Princess. I really appreciate it.” She turns to Sir Coccinelle. “Listen, I have no idea how your powers work, but I have a feeling that they’re the key to getting the akuma, and chattonne’s powers are the only way to destroy the akuma. Are we ready?”

Sir Coccinelle and Princess Kitten nod.

“Let’s go!”

She signals for Sir Coccinelle to topple the monster, and quickly calls “Venom” to freeze him before he can get up. That new girl… Alexis, right? For some reason is still there, next to.. A fire hose! “Hey you! Toss bug boy the hose!”

Wide eyed, she tosses the hose to Sir Coccinelle, who looks at the hose, the wetsuit and the fist, cogs turning. He shoves the wetsuit in the fist, and begins filling it up. Cracking the fist open, he gets a purple rock, and pumps his fist in celebration. “Boo-ya!”

Queen Bee smiles, but the victory is short lived as the rock monster starts to stir. “SIR COCCINELLE GET THE ROCK TO PRINCESS KITTEN!” She screams.

Sir Coccinelle nods, and lobs the rock at Princess Kitten, who catches it with her Cataclysm hand, turning the rock into a crumpled note.

Sir Coccinelle throws the wetsuit in the air, with a cry of “Miraculous Sir Coccinelle!” ladybugs rush over the city, restoring all the damage, and turning the stone monster into.. Ivan? Huh.

Princess Kitten turns to Queen Bee, wide eyed. “How’d you know that was going to work?”

“Yeah, Queenie,” Sir Coccinelle pipes up. “I didn’t really know how my powers would work, yet you did.”

“First off, bug boy, I’m your Queen, not ‘Queenie’, and since you mentioned ‘ladybug vision’, I figured that the wetsuit would actually come into use. Chatonne, you told me that you could destroy, so I used that to get rid ourselves of the akuma. All I really did was look at your powers and figure out how to use them in the situation.” She mutters, very much liking the attention. She holds out her hand in a fist. “You guys did really good. I’m proud to be a superhero with you two.”

Princess Kitten lightly bumps her fist into Queen Bee’s. “Give yourself more credit. Sure, Sir Coccinelle did some wacky thing with the wetsuit, but it was you were the one who figured it out.”

Sir Coccinelle fist bumps the two of them. “Seriously, Queenie, you did great. Princess couldn't've gotten to the akuma without you guiding her. I think we make a great team.”

Queen Bee rolls her eyes, but smiles. “A team. I like that.”

Ally? Alexa? Rushes up to the three, a huge smile on her face, phone clutched in her hand. “OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS ARE ACTUAL SUPERHEROES!! CAN YOU TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT YOURSELVES??”

The three exchange awkward glances, until a beep from all three of them goes off. “I believe that’s our cue to go,” Queen Bee drawls. “ But If you must know, the dashing knight is Sir Coccinelle,” he offers a flourishing bow, “The beautiful lady is Princess Kitten,” she nods her head, “And I’m the regal Queen Bee.” She winks at the girl. “I’ll see you around, huh?” Queen Bee leaps off, leaving a blushing girl.

She sneaks back in through her window, crying “Buzz off!” The transformation disappears in a flash of yellow and black, and Pollen reappears. “That was amazing! I was like, woosh, and boosh! And…” Chloe falls on her bed giggling.

“My queen, I’m glad you enjoyed it! You did such a good job, you truly are meant for the Bee Miraculous!”

Chloe looks at Pollen, her eyes gleaming. “Really?”

Pollen claps her hands in delight. “Of course, my queen! Now can I tell you what you need to know?” “Oh. Yes, please.”

“So! Your partners hold the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous, which are the powers of creation and destruction…”

Chloe listens to Pollen, furiously memorizing everything, occasionally asking questions. “Wait.. so I can’t tell anyone? Not even Sabrina?”

“No, we can’t risk anyone finding out your identity and using your loved ones against you.”

“That makes sense..” Chloe notices Pollen flutter down. “Hey, are you okay?”

Pollen nods, “I’m sorry my queen, but I need to recharge.”

Chloe perks up. “Of course! What do you need? I have access to anything and everything I want.”

Pollen smiles appreciatively. “I would like some almonds, if it’s not too much trouble my queen.”

Chloe shakes her head. “I’ll get some sent up right now. I think I’ll get some chocolate covered ones for myself.”

Her phone buzzes. She picks it up, and.. “What? There’s more stone monsters?? Pollen, what’s going on?”

“My queen, did you purify the akuma?” Pollen chirps.“Was I supposed to do that?” Chloe asks, starting to panic.

“No, no! That was Sir Coccinelle’s job. You did everything right, my queen. We can figure this out in the morning, it’s getting late. Get some sleep, my queen. You did good.”

Chloe nods, trying to push away unease in her stomach. “Yeah… let’s get some sleep.”

Chapter 2

#chlonette #chloe x marinette #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain-cheng #queen bee #adrien agreste #marinette has the cat miraculous #adrien has the ladybug miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 4 years

Text

The Intern | Part Four

Summary: You move to New York to focus on your art but end up working as an intern at Stark Enterprises

Chapter Summary: Tony gives you a gift and you help Peter get a date

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (friendship)

Word Count: 2461

A/N: for the purposes of this story Stark Enterprise is set out like an office building in New York and the story does not follow the same timeline as the movies. Reader does not know Peter is SpiderMan. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Three | Masterlist

- - - - -

Over the next week your days at work are mostly taken up with organising the upcoming charity fundraiser ball Tony was hosting. Tony had also asked you to paint something that could be sold in the auction during the ball. You were glad to be so busy, keeping your mind active was the only thing stopping you spiralling. Even though Tony promised you would be safe you still couldn’t help but be anxious after your meeting with the Professor in the coffee shop. Something about the way he looked at you, and the way he said ‘see you again’, it just didn’t sit right with you and you had started to have nightmares that kept you awake at night. But you couldn’t let Tony know anything was wrong. You didn’t want him to think you couldnt handle your new job, or that you didn’t trust his promise.

Tony hadn’t sent you back to the cafe since, instead Happy was the one collecting your coffee orders. Happy had also been given the task of driving you around everywhere since that day too.

The day before the fundraiser you get ready for work and mentally plan the day ahead. You were tired from yet another restless night but you knew you still had a lot to get prepared before tomorrow. You're too busy to be tired.

You leave the house and get into the car that is waiting outside for you.

“morning Happy” you say strapping your seatbelt across you.

“good morning miss Y/L/N” he looks at you through the mirror “did you have a late one last night?”

“huh?” You ask, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“you look a bit tired”

“gee thanks” you say sarcastically “I just, you know.. was awake a lot thinking about everything thats left to do for this fundraiser. Its hard to switch off from work mode sometimes”

“hmm” he replies, not entirely convinced by your words. He turns his attention to the road and starts driving.

You pull up outside the Stark Enterprise building and Happy goes to get out of the car to walk you in.

“oh, Happy you don't really need to escort me in do you? The doors only a few feet away, I’m sure I can manage on my own” you look at him pleadingly and he looks conflicted.

As much as you appreciated Tony putting these safety measures in place so you felt safer, you found it embarrassing that Happy had to walk with you from the car to the door. Like a child being walked into school by a parent.

After a moment he looks turns to look at you.

“Fine. But I’ll be watching from here and if Tony asks, I walked you in. Deal?”

“Deal” you nod “thanks Happy!” you say jumping out the car quickly before he can change his mind.

Happy watches you walk into the building before driving off to park the car.

Once inside the building you head towards the stairs to get up to the office but get a text through from Tony.

“meet me in the lab -T”

You’ve never actually been to the lab since you started working for the company so you were kinda excited to finally get to see it. You make your way down the stairs to the basement where the lab is located and find Tony working at one of the tables.

“morning Tony” you say cheerfully as you walk up to see what he’s doing. He spins around and gives you a big smile.

“ah y/n perfect timing as always, I have something for you. Hold out your hand”

You look at him confused smile but do what he says. He takes your hand and flips it around so its facing down, then places a watch on your wrist and tightens the strap. You look at it with fascination.

“so, it’s your standard smart watch. Kinda like an apple watch but better because, you know, I made it”

“of course” you giggle at him.

“you’ll receive messages, calls, appointment reminders etc, all the boring stuff, but the most important thing is this” he gently pulls your wrist towards him slightly so he can operate the watch. He swipes the screen and points to a button that looks like a little alarm bell “this button is here for you to use if you're ever in a situation where you don't feel safe”

You look up at him and he meets your eyes.

“now this isn’t me saying that you're going to be in any unsafe situations and hopefully you’ll never need to use this button but it’s there, just in case. Give it a go.”

You press the little button and instantly his watch on his wrist lights up and makes a sound. He presses something on his watch screen and the noise stops.

“you press that and my watch alerts me that you need help and gives me your location. I will be with you in a mater of minutes. No matter where I am, what time of day.. I will drop everything and get straight to you.”

You feel your eyes well up. You're so touched by the effort Tony has put into making you feel safe and part of you does already feel calmer.

“thank you” you whisper and he notices the tears in your eyes. He pulls you in to a tight comforting hug. The two of you stay stood in the middle of the empty lab for a few moments your arms wrapped around each other. The calm before the storm.

You’re interrupted suddenly by the sound of Happy running through the door.

“my watch alarm just went off…” he says frantically and out of breath before noticing you two. You pull away from each other and look at him in surprise. You feel like your cheeks are burning red from blushing “…but I can see everyones fine in here so, I’ll just… uh.. yeah” he turns and quickly walks out the room. You cant help but feel slightly embarrassed but Tony doesn’t seem bothered. He turns to you and smiles.

“the watch will also alert Happy-“

“yeah I guessed that” you laugh.

— — — —

The rest of the morning is spent preparing the last few things for tomorrow’s fundraiser. On your lunch break you go down to meet Peter and the two of you walk to the coffee shop together. It felt strange to be able to actually leave the building without Happy escorting you but felt safe knowing that with your new watch you could have him or Tony with you in minutes. Plus you had Peter with you, not that you thought he would be much use in a fight. You reached the coffee shop and you notice Peter stop to check his reflection in the door window before entering. He definitely liked MJ.

“y/n! You're alive!” MJ shouts happily as you walk through the door.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy” you reply laughing as you walk up to the counter.

“Does this mean you’ll be back on coffee duty again instead of the grumpy guy with the ironic name?” She asks

“Who? Happy?” Peter asks and MJ turns her attention to him

“Oh hey Parker, didn’t see you there” she smiles at him which makes Peter blush and he starts stuttering. You decide to put him out of his misery and interrupt him to order your lunch. You pay and MJ says she’ll bring it over to you when it’s ready. You and Peter take a seat at a table over by the window.

“Thanks for paying for lunch” Peter says, glancing over at MJ.

“No problem. So, do you know who you’re bringing as your plus one to the fundraiser tomorrow?” You ask and Peter looks at you embarrassed.

“I don’t know, probably no one” he shrugs

“What? No! Come one, you gotta bring someone”

“Well I thought about asking Ned but then I thought he’s just gonna geek out as soon as he sees Mr Stark”

“Hmm, yeah maybe not Ned” you shake your head

“And I’d ask Aunt May but I don’t really want to spend the evening watching her and Mr Stark gross flirting”

Peter pulls a face and you laugh, hiding the fact that you also would not like to see that. Thinking about it made you feel weirdly jealous. Were you getting feelings for Tony?

You notice Peter look over to the counter again. You know who he really wants to ask, he just needs a push.

“Why don’t you ask MJ?” You say casually and Peter looks at you, eyes wide.

“Why would you say that?” He gets flustered.

“Dude, it’s so obvious you like her. And I think she likes you back...” You pause before making quote marks with your hands “Parker”

“That’s my name!” He protests.

“That’s her giving you a nickname, trust me. Look, just ask her! What have you got to lose?” You say as MJ heads towards you carrying a tray of food “now is your chance”

Peter looks like a deer in headlights as MJ places the food down on your table and you thank her. She smiles and looks to Peter who is just staring at her with wide eyes.

“Uh, is he okay?” She asks you

“He’s fine. He’s just thinking about the fact that he’s got no one to take to this fundraiser party thing we’ve got after work tomorrow..” you say looking at Peter, trying to give him an opportunity but he remains silent.

“Oh a party? Sounds cool” she says. Peter still says nothing.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a good night. Isn’t it Peter?” You’re desperately trying to get him to join in the conversation but he’s frozen. You all hang around in silence for a moment before MJ breaks it.

“Well I’ll leave you to your lunch. Hope you find someone Parker” she says, turning around and walking back toward the counter. You kick Peter under the table and suddenly he snaps out of it.

“MJ?” He surprises you both and MJ spins around to look at him. “Would you like to come with me?” He finally asks and you hold your breath.

“Okay cool, yeah. It’s a date” she replies and walks back to the counter to serve the customer waiting. You let out a sigh of relief and Peter looks at you with a massive grin.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

— — — —

When you get back to the office after lunch you feel happier than you’ve felt for days. Peter had not stopped smiling the whole way through lunch and on the walk back to the building he talked constantly about MJ. You felt weirdly proud of him for finally asking her out. Tony noticed you smiling to yourself as you replayed the moment back in your head.

“What’s got you so happy?” He asks, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Peter finally asked out the girl from the coffee shop who he’s had a crush on for ages. He bringing her to the fundraiser tomorrow.” You say smiling and Tony smiles too.

“Good kid.” He smiles. You could tell he was also proud of him. “So about the fundraiser, you’ve done the painting right?”

“Yup all ready. Do you want to see a photo of it to check its okay?” You reach into your pocket for your phone.

“No. I’ll wait for the big reveal tomorrow. I trust your talent.”

You smile, you take it as a massive compliment that he trusts you to have painted something worthy of being sold in the charity auction.

“Have you got an outfit yet?” He asks, and you look at him confused. You didn’t think Tony would be that interested in your fashion choices.

“No” you shrugged “I’m sure I’ve got a dress somewhere in my closet I can wear. I’ll figure it out tomorrow” you say casually as you continue with your paperwork.

To be honest you’d been so caught up with planning you’d completely forgotten you would have to dress up for this event. Tony picks up his phone and sends a text. A few minutes later Happy appears at the door.

“Happy could you please drive miss Y/L/N to mall and escort her around the shops until she’s found an outfit for tomorrow. When she’s done drive her home. Thank you”

“Tony! I don’t have time for shopping right now-“

“Don’t argue, just go.” He says standing up and walking over to you. “You have worked so hard arranging all this, you deserve an afternoon off to treat yourself. Use the company card, have fun.” He takes your hand and walks you over to the door, pushing you through it gently. You turn back to argue with him but he just smiles and shuts the door. You laugh to yourself in disbelief and follow Happy.

The following evening you’re all dressed up and ready to go, waiting for Happy to pick you up to drive you to the fundraiser. The dress you bought made you feel amazing. It was an elegant floor length black gown which hugged your figure in all the right places. The back was cut out in a triangle down to the base your spine and the fabric had a slight sparkle to it which caught the light beautifully. You kept your hair and make up simple, choosing to keep your curled hair loose and applying simple flick eyeliner and a deep red lipstick. There was a knock at the door and you took one last look in the mirror before opening it. You were surprised at who you stood standing the other side looking very nice in his tuxedo.

“Tony?”

He looks at you in awe and let’s out a small breathless wow before catching his breath “you look... beautiful” he smiles

“Thanks” you say shyly, “I wasn’t expecting to see you yet, I thought we would be meeting each other there?”

“When Peter finally asked out his girl, it got me thinking...” he pauses “will you be my date?” he asks and you look at him shocked “You don’t have to obviously, if it would make you feel uncomfortable or-“

“No” you interrupt “I mean yes. I mean… I’d love to.” You smile and a look of relief flashes on his face before he smiles back at you, offering his arm for you to hold.

You shut your front door, link you arm around his arm and walk with him to the car where Happy is waiting. On the journey to the ball you find yourself smiling as you thought about the night ahead.

But you had no idea just how much this night would change your life.

Forever.

Part Five

Taglist: @brownbuble, @star-trek-is-my-lifesource

#Tony Stark x reader #Tony Stark fanfic #Tony stark #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man fanfic #iron man imagine #Tony Stark imagine #Peter parker #Spiderman x reader #Peter Parker x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #the avengers

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byebecca · 4 years

Text

(KELSEY MERRITT, CIS-WOMAN) - Have you seen REBECCA STEVENS? BECCA is in her JUNIOR year. The POLITICAL SCIENCE MAJOR is 21 years old & is a GEMINI. People say SHE is AMBITIOUS, SOPHISTICATED, RECLUSE and MANIPULATIVE. Rumors say they’re a member of the CALLOWAY SOCIETY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE’S COVERING UP HER FATHER’S AFFAIR FROM HER MOTHER AND THE REST OF THE WORLD.

statistics

general

full name: rebecca diana stevens

nicknames: becca, bec, b, stevens

age: twenty-one

date of birth: may 25th, 1999

hometown: hartford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual

current residence: preaker, vermont

languages spoken: english, filipino, italian

personality

zodiac: gemini sun, aquarius moon, virgo rising

alignment: neutral evil

mbti: istj-a

appearance

hair color: brown

eye color: dark-brown

height: 5'8"

biography

rebecca diana stevens wasn’t born out of love or sincerity, she was born to fulfill a a status quo. althea and joseph stevens had but one child before becca, one conceived out of wedlock and to a different woman. joseph stevens hailed from a political dynasty, his past ancestors holding powerful positions in government, and a son born from a college relationship with a woman of much lower status would only tarnish the political standing of the future governor of connecticut, mr. joseph stevens himself. so the family did what they knew best, and threw the entire possibility of a scandal under the rug, paying off joseph’s girlfriend to grant sole custody to him. it was only within a few short months that joseph’s mother set him up with the daughter of a fortune 500 ceo, althea santos. the two were attending yates university at the time, both in their senior year of school. the manufactured relationship quickly became a marriage within the next few years, althea claiming her stepson as one of her own, at least in front of the public eye. and within a years, rebecca diana stevens was brought into the world, her middle name inspired by the late princess diana, who althea had been fond of.

in the public eye, the stevens were a loving, wholesome family, deplete of any controversy. it was what led joseph to his government title. but underneath it, the stevens mirrored any family with exorbitant wealth and a powerful status.

growing up, becca had often felt like a robot. she simply smiled and waved to the cameras whenever asked, which was perhaps the slightest bit of emotion anyone saw out of her from a young age. but beyond that, she felt completely, and utterly empty, even as a child. she didn’t have a naturally friendly or kind bone in her body, unless told to have one. she destroyed things, threw tantrums erratically, and refused to speak unless it was necessary. because once the cameras and watching eyes were gone, becca’s parents didn’t treat her like how they did in front of a camera. it wasn’t that she was abused, it was that her parents didn’t care about her. she could scream bloody murder in the middle of the night, and they’d only send a nanny to her in hopes of shutting her up. it was clearly possible that young becca had used anger as a tool to get the attention of her careless parents, but after a while, a part of her had realized that there was nothing that could be done to get there attention. and as more time past, the less she wanted any.

as becca grew into her teens, the easiest term used to describe her would’ve been ‘loner.’ she hated any attention, almost as much as she began to hate people. she’d continued to listen to her parents, smile for the cameras, wear something that wasn’t black when dinner party season began, but underneath it all, she despised her parents. she dreamt that she was a witch, able to cast a hex on them and for the world to see how awful they really were. the only emotion becca seemed to ever feel was anger, and even that faded away with the use of antidepressants.

to those who met her, she was cold, and blunt, and if there wasn’t a camera to her face or a public official to wow, she had absolutely no filter. in high school, more often than not, you’d find her in the library with a black hoodie on reading a book, not because she cared an awful lot at school (despite ironically excelling at it), but because she knew it was a place no one would bother her. she was rich, and beautiful, and had every chance of being the queen bee of her boarding school. but she didn’t care to, she didn’t care about anything. after graduating, she chose to go to yates, her parent’s alma mater, instead of yale university, in the town she’d grown up in.

she’d joined calloway, even if a part of her felt that she’d fit into any society at yates. and by fit in, she meant ignore everyone’s presence. but being in yates was different. at least in high school, everyone had already known to leave her alone. there wasn’t an opportunity for her to be liked, because she’d already spent years cultivating an awful reputation. somehow, somewhere along the way, becca found herself caring about a few select people, as awful and wrong as it felt at the time. she still hated the majority of her peers, but some had managed to crack her dead heart. and she definitely hated that.

despite never admitting it, becca had come to yates as a virgin. she hadn’t ever been in a relationship, or even a casual hookup before. she hadn’t done much in her freshman year, but just as her 2nd year started, the relationship that gave her everything, only to take it all away begun. he was easy on the eyes, and she remembered him saying all the right words. he hadn’t cared that she was a bit meaner than most, and that she mostly had the emotional capacity of a rock. he’d tried, and tried, and eventually, becca let him in. she let herself believe that someone was capable of caring about her. everything was perfect in the beginning. she smiled, and laughed, and acted like one of the lovesick people she’d silently judged at one point. she was truly, and hopelessly, in love. until he cheated on her, that is. and then it was as if everything came crashing down. maybe if she hadn’t caught him sitting a little too close to a girl, running from the door instead of asking questions, they’d still be together. she didn’t have proof, but at the same time, she didn’t need any for her heart to feel completely shattered.

after crying for an hour and a half in the parking lot of a taco bell, becca was reminded of what she went through as a child, regressing into an old mentality, that showing emotion was pointless, that she wasn’t capable of being loved. she ignored him, and everyone after that. people checked in on her, and she acted as if it never even happened, still caring about those few select people, but always keeping her guard up.

headcanons

comes off as mean, and standoffish. can’t stand majority of people but will fake it until she makes it just to get through the day. if she does care about you, she’s still kinda guarded and never lets people know what shes really thinking, but she does care (deep down)

always wears black, and for some odd reason, always has an ominous black book at her side that’s contents are unknown.

is a polysci major because it just makes sense though it isnt really what she wants to do with her life (tuition ain’t free), she’d love to be an author and write fiction novels

can be very odd and dark at times like you’d think shes a vampire

has major insomnia and will usually be found at 7/11 or roaming the streets at 2am

plays obnoxiously loud music in her wired earphones because she doesn’t care

wanted connections

okay obviously i really want becca’s ex connection. she’s only had one boyfriend and he’s the only man who could break her heart. i’d love to plot this out because maybe he wasn’t even cheating??? lets give men a few rights okay, but this is definitely my biggest one

a best friend!! someone who gets her, probably understands how she’s feeling without her saying anything. she’s not really like the girl gang kinda girl but whatever

her half-brother is one of my wcs on the main but yes <3 i’d love to see their dynamic and what he’d be like

honestly anything!! friends, enemies, acquaintances, hookups, fwb !!!

#yatesintro #ok #this looks a lot cleaner #its longer tho </3

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bubmyg · 5 years

Text

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: lawyer!yoongi, minimal angst if you squint and read it while standing on your head, some basketball terminology, more implied mentions of yoongi’s ass in dress pants

prompt/hc used: yoongi’s overly generous with his donations to your alma mater, which comes with season basketball tickets and the promise that he’ll take off early those days but sometimes (or all the time) that promise doesn’t quite hold true

a/n: part of my lawyer!yoongi drabble series, all of which are linked on my masterlist along with the headcanon list of upcoming parts :-)

word count: 1,171

You considered your vantage point of the gym floor with crossed arms. Center court, facing the benches, twelve rows up from the floor, seats padded and spacious and with armrests. If you had to pick a favorite perk from Yoongi’s generous donations to your shared alma mater each year, it was the season basketball tickets or better yet, season basketball tickets in seats that were not near or in the student section.

It was fun when you were twenty and had better knees and didn’t have to fight traffic if you waited all the way up until the final buzzer sounded. Two degrees and a full time job later, the basketball games were fun with a list of exceptions.

The student section was full now, something that alerted you to the countdown on the clock and the emergence of the team for their final warmups. You checked your phone again. Nothing.

You checked the empty seat next to you. Also nothing.

“You’ll take off early?”

Yoongi hummed absently, twisting out of your lips against his cheek as he secured his tie. “I will, but why?”

“There’s a game tonight,” You could only watch him fiddle at the silk pink before you brushed his fingers away to fix it yourself, “We don’t have to go, but I figured you—”

His lips, soft and sweet on yours, soothed your ramblings. “I remember now. I definitely want to go,” He cocked an eyebrow at you as he stepped away to shrug his jacket off the dining room chair, “Are you okay driving separate? Just in case something comes up…”

“Fine.”

Yoongi watched you, pensive and with pursed lips as he adjusted navy blue over broad shoulders.

“I’ll see you tonight then?”

You didn’t affirm, instead speaking when his back was to you and his fingers twisting the doorknob to the garage.

“Yoongi.” His shoulders flexed, cocking his chin backward but not quite looking at you. “Take off early.”

He was eight minutes and the starting lineups from missing the opening tip. Something had came up. And he hadn’t taken off early.

You sank into the comfort of your seat, sipping pointedly on a soda while two minutes became one and suddenly the student section had sandwiched the entire arena in a dull roar when the tip off was won by the good guys. It wasn’t hard for you to stop checking your phone, not when you knew it was useless and there was so much happening in front of you to focus on otherwise.

You were muttering under your breath about a missed block out, palms gripping at your knees as you leaned forward, watching as the player from the opposing team sauntered to the free throw line while the offending player from your team took a seat on the bench.

Two fouls and with ten minutes left in the first half—

“—a blockout would have solved that. Or just good rotation off that double team. Anything but what they’ve been doing...”

Yoongi’s smile was sheepish above you, fingers tucked into the short hairs at the nape of his neck, “...right?”

“Yeah,” You nodded shortly, following his descent into the seat next to you with parted lips, “Need to stop the damn double team when your opponent is hitting sixty-seven percent from the three point line.”

His tentative smile morphed into something that was all gums and shining adoration, twisting as he shrugged himself out of his suit jacket, “Next alumni meeting, I’ll suggest they hire you.”

You didn’t even have the heart to tell him to fuck off, eyes leaving from where they’d zeroed in on his hands undoing and pushing up his cuffs and flicking the top two buttons of neatly ironed white.

“Something come up?” You spoke evenly.

Yoongi sighed and his lips met your cheek, hand sliding around your thigh for a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. Yeah, it did,” The tip of his nose brushed your cheek, forehead against your temple, “I’m sorry, angel.”

You wordlessly took his index and middle fingers in your palm, holding a little too tight when someone drove into the lane and was fouled.

You leaned against Yoongi.

“I know.”

It was silent between the two of you but it wasn’t, Yoongi leaving the side of your face to instead lean forward, mirroring your position, elbows on his thighs as he kept glancing at you out of the corner of his fingers tangled in front of his nose while you pressed your shoulder against his and groaned into his neck every time a needless whistle was blown.

“Suit at a basketball game is a new one,” You said finally, brushing your fingertips up the underside of his exposed forearm.

“Didn’t have time to go home but I did remember these—” You followed the path of his fingers down to hike up one of his pant legs to reveal socks, ones with your former university colors striped up the entire length.

You snorted into your knuckles curled under your nose, “Nice.”

“They’re the only comfortable thing I have on at the moment.”

You cocked an eyebrow, finding his gentle brown eyes already trained on the side of your face when you glanced at him, “You look hot.”

“So do you,” He mused and you rolled your eyes while his fingers traveled upward from the seam in your jeans to pluck at the pocket of your university hoodie.

“I look like I’m in grad school again.”

“Exactly.”

“Didn’t know you had a special affinity for grad school me.”

“I had an affinity for freshman you who didn’t know leaving mac and cheese in your refrigerator for three months would create mold.”

“I have stories that would make people think you’re lying about your JD.”

Yoongi was beaming at you now, all twinkling irises and gums lifted by his fingers tangled in front of his lips. He reached for your hand, resting the exaggerated pout of his mouth against your knuckles as he held your eye contact in silence until your cheeks dimpled in a smile of their own.

“I love you.”

Your heart soared over your muted irritation, burying it completely at the shine of unadulterated sincerity that twinkled in Yoongi’s eyes and touch on you. The last wall of annoyance broke and you allowed yourself to smile, drawing your intertwined hands out of the way to lean in to briefly peck his lips.

“I know,” You affirmed gently, “I love you, too.”

The halftime buzzer broke you out of your bubble, particularly when Yoongi let go of your hand and stood.

He has wrist deep in the pocket of his dress pants, cocking an eyebrow at you, “Want a beer?”

“No,” You swallowed, properly taking in your husband’s appearance outside of the context of his work. “I want you to not get picked up by a soccer mom with three kids.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, crouching to stare you directly in the eye.

“Don’t worry, the only one I want to experience marital bliss with is you.”

#min yoongi #bts #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #yoongi scenario #min yoongi scenario #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #min yoongi x reader

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bolbianddolanhouse · 4 years

Text

BNHA self insert AU [Book 2]

Lost and confused on this here day? Start from the WAAAY beginning!

Chapter 1: It is Wednesday My Dudes.

Howdy! I guess I should introduce myself? Oof UMMMMMM, the names Lili Perla Iida! I’m 15 years old, about to turn 16, and I’m the oldest of 4 kids. Being big sis feels as natural as the wind in my hair as I pirouette. Speaking of dancing, it’s a Saturday morning, that means I have to get my ass in 5th gear for my private dance lessons. My favorite days are the ones where I get to dance and cause havoc with my siblings! I guess I should head downstairs for breakfast before that robo doggy yips at me for still being in my room.

“Buenos dias mija!” thats my mom, she’s the one bitch I respect the most.

“Good mornin” I greet everyone at the breakfast nook “what’s for breakfast?”

“Spam and eggs with toast” that’s my dad at the stove, I love him but he’s putting too much pressure on me to follow his footsteps. “Here’s your coffee.”

“Oh FUCK yea!” I holler as I jump into my spot at the nook. There’s nothing more I love than some egg and toast with my iced coffee.

“I’m hungies! Please just gimme one toast!” thats my younger brother Iwata, but I call him Iwee or Iwa, don’t tell the other two but he’s my favorite sibling. He’s the one that schemes and I say if that’s doable or not.

“DADDY! Tensei is teleporting my forkfuls into his mouth!”

“MOMMY! Hanaka set my toast on fire!” those two brats are my twin siblings, Hanaka and Tensei but I call them by their middle names, Rosa and Oro. Rosa is half-way decent to be around, so I share a room with her. Oro is a punk ass bitch in the making but I can’t hate him too much, he’s an intellectual.

“Can’t we go one breakfast without something catching on fire?” I rolled my eyes as I got served “thanks dad.”

“Nope, fuck you” Rosa stuck her tongue out “TENSEI STOP!”

“Hanaka! What did we say about tongues?” scolded dad “your family isn’t fire proof!” he turned to Oro “and what did we say about pestering your sister?”

“I shouldn’t play with fire unless I wish to get burned” the boy pouted and crossed his arms “but Iwa and I are hungies!”

“Here’s your plates” dad slid the food in front of the two boys “no more yelling or I’m taking away toast privileges!”

“NOOO THAT’S NOT FAIR!” we whined, you can take away our freedom but us Iida kids will be DAMNED if the sanctity of toast in the morning gets taken away.

“Oh shit, listen to your father” mom jeered as dad sat next to her “oh Lili, don’t forget about applications for entrance exams.”

“I still don’t know where to consider” I sigh as I butter my toast “like, I get that theres privates that have scouted me to go to their’s but I just wanna go to a dance school.”

“Sweet heart, you know we can’t just send you off overseas so young!” mom spoke with a hint of worry “besides, you still have private lessons at the institute until you turn 18! I won’t let you go off without the things you love to do.”

“You can always apply to UA” dad spoke up as he cut his spam “with the recommendations we can give, you don’t have to take the entrance exam.”

“Ugh, I can’t dance if I’m going to a hero school” I huffed “I don’t wanna go to your pompous alma mater dad. No offense mom.”

“None taken, not even I wanted to be there” mom responded so casually.

Dad gave her a side glance “May I remind you on who you met in said pompous school that helped build this family?”

“May I remind you on who was too much of a little bitch to tell me they liked me at said pompous school even though we saw each other basically everyday” she sipped her coffee loudly, marking her win.

“Oof I felt that roast in my DNA” Iwa hit the whoa “that shit hurted, F in the chat for Dad’s pride.

“F” chanted everyone but dad.

After breakfast, I grab my duffle bag and make my way to town.

“Good morning Lili!” thats my aunty Mimi, her and my mom are besties “say good morning Nikita.”

“Guden Morgen Lili!” that’s Nikita, Mimi’s daughter. She’s just a year younger than my twin siblings and today they have a little playdate as my mom and Mimi go to work.

“Mornin’! See y’all later!” I wave them off.

“Oh Lili! Good Morning!” that’s my uncle Jin, he lives next door to us and is besties with my mom and Mimi. For someone that doesn’t have kids, he sure does know how to care for them.

“Mornin’! Are you driving today?”

“Yep, can’t let the media know your mom’s car needs detailing!” he joked as he waved me off.

The dance institute I attend is in the same town we live in and just a 20 min walk from the gated community we live in. Well, 20 minutes for me because I walk kinda fast because of the engines on my feet. Dumb location for the quirk but it does help me when I dance.

“Ah Lili! There you are!” cried out my dance teacher as I walked in “can you lend me a hand in costuming? We need re-adjustments for a few costumes for the level 3s.”

“Of course I’ll help, be right there in a jiffy!” I rush into the costuming room, my second home at times! The lord has blessed me with a second quirk, Master Thread, and I like it more than my other one. It’s not dumb and super useful! I heard that there was once a pro-hero that had the same quirk and my parents knew him before his retirement. My mom says that she interned under his agency and he favored her for her Copy quirk. How cool is it that?! But hero stuff ain’t for me, I just wanna look pretty and dance for the masses. Maybe one day make elaborate ballet costumes, I already make my own at home to practice my quirk. How lucky am I to have such supportive parents?! After I finish the adjustments, I quickly put on my pointe shoes to do a practice run of our summer showcase. As much as I work well with the others in my class, I’m not friends with any of them and I don’t blame them. The instructors show me too much favoritism and even I’d hate me for hogging the attention.

“Lili! Marvelous work!” one of the instructors praised “how about we make you a solo act for this season finale?!”

“Me?! On such short notice?!”

“Yea! I thought I was going to do a solo act?!” huffed one of the girls on stage.

“Yes, you and Lili are going to be solos” they responded “we need to fill out time for our show and I know Lili can give quite a show.”

I looked around to my dance-mates and they all rolled their eyes “I mean, sure but I don’t know how good I can make a solo act in a month and a half!”

“Great!” they clapped “okay, from the top! We need to work on those jumps!”

As usual, nobody bids me good bye at the end of class. I’ve known most of them since I started there at age 5 and they don’t give me the decency to say hello or good bye! It sucks but I didn’t join to make friends. I walk through the streets to get to the fabric store I frequent, you’ll often catch me here after school or practice.

“Lili! Hey!” that’s Maru, he’s son of the number 1 hero, Deku. Our parents are friends and his dad owes his life to my mom because of her quick thinking that saved him back during the UA days. So I guess Maru is my friend?

“Oh sup Maru” I stopped walking as he ran toward me “what brings you around these here parts?”

“I was just looking at some of those shops” he points down the street “theres always cool stuff around here.”

“Yea there is, anyways, wanna join me?” I get giddy “I heading into the fabric store and I need some opinions.”

“I’m your guy!” he joins me as I fully geek out over the new satins.

“Okay so which one? The candy blue” I hover the bolt over my chest “the pearlescent one OR this blush pink?”

“I’m torn between the pearl and pink one” he mutters to himself “what are you trying to make?”

“Another costume, I got a solo act but I have yet to come up with something.”

“Oh that’s not fair! Isn’t the showcase in a few weeks?”

“THAT’S WHAT I SAID!” I groaned “I need so much help Maru! Plus I have to get started on applications and it’s all just a mess.”

“Well, if you ask me” he gets up and walks up to Lili “I think you should get both these satins and I know you’ll come up with something amazing! You’re really good at being graceful” he does a shakey spin “see? And why don’t you apply to UA? So that way we could go to school together!”

“Thank you for your kind words but I’m not going to hero school” I turned to put the blue satin back in the rack “I wanna wear pretty dresses and dance, not kick villain ass!”

“But think about it!” He picked up the two bolts of satin “how cool we’d be as a duo! I’d kick villain ass and you wrap them up to detain them!” he walked up to her “I’d be much braver with you by my side.”

“Be serious!” I laughed as I playfully pushed him “it’s not playtime, it’s hero work! Plus you gotta make your parents proud.”

“But I am serious” he retorted “I want to fight along side you, I want to do lots of things along side you. We’ve been friends since you were born!”

“And? That doesn’t mean you can’t live without me!” I look through the decals section “But you’re already doing great over there.”

I make my purchase and Maru walks me to the front gate before parting ways. What to do? The days just whoosh on by and I don’t have much to go off on. I submit applications to some private high schools that have dance programs but dad keeps insisting that I apply to UA. He had the audacity to give me a physical copy of the application! Apparently hero school apps are due much later than the other schools, for UA it’s October and it’s end of June right now. More time passes and I got a piece together for the showcase along with costume. At this point, I’m just counting the days until I get a response from those other schools I applied to.

-Night of the Summer Showcase-

What a night to be alive and pretty! My costume got the eyes of many that they didn’t notice my tiny fumbles. Another success in my books! My family came out to see me and so did Maru. After, I met up with my parents and Maru also came up to us.

“Amazing show Lili” he hands me a large bouquet of flowers “these are for you!”

“Oh you didn’t have to get me flowers” I was astounded by the mass of pink roses and lilies “but I’m glad you enjoyed the show!”

“I loved your floating spins and the thing at the end when you revealed the satin costume!” he imitated some of my moves “oh um, is it cool if we go for a little walk?”

“Oh sure let me just give these to my mom” I turn to my mom “I’m going for a walk, catch up with yall later.”

“Don’t wander too far! It’s dark out” dad chopped as I turned.

We walk to the garden area to the side of the performance hall “it’s a nice summer night.” commented Maru “the sky is clear too.”

“It is” I smile as I look up “I hardly get the time to look at the sky anymore, I loved star-gazing as a child.”

“Lets star-gaze over there!” Maru pointed to an open patch of grass. We lay on our backs and point at our made up constellations. “You know, I really enjoy your company Lili. You make things so much fun.”

“Thanks I guess?” I really didn’t know how to take that compliment.

“It’s a good thing” he laughed and turned his body on his side, toward me “I’ve been thinking about what you said about just wanting to look pretty and dance. Well, what if I figured out something?”

“What did you figure out?” I was genuinely confused because I don’t remember there being a problem with me wanting that.

“I figured out how you can dance and be pretty with always being by my side” he smiled “we just, get married.”

A record scratched in my head, did this foo just say get married? “Um, what?”

“I know that was a bold thing to say but I was giving it some thought” he explained himself “I like you a lot Lili, I want to be someone you can depend on and I can be someone that supports you in everything you want to do. I’ll be the breadwinner and you can do your thing and not have to work as hard.”

“But I don’t JUST want to be pretty and dance” I butted in “I want to work too! Professional Dancer is a legit career plus I want to go to college” I was starting to think I’m missing the point here “why are you suddenly talking about this?”

“I’m saying that I like you, more than a friend” he meekly spoke “and I want to be a man you can be proud of. You make me feel like I could do anything! Won’t you be my girlfriend?”

My mind was racing but going dumber, how do I tell him that he’s making a mistake without saying it word for word? “Maru, I didn’t know you felt that way!” I scrunched my face “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay, take your time!” he leaned in closer to my face, softening his voice “maybe I should show you how serious I am.” This bitch fully kissed me on the lips, my first kiss and I didn’t feel the sparks or flutters in my tummy. I felt...nothing.

“Huh” I said after he broke the kiss “well uhhhhhh oof um” I stood up “I’ll be talking to ya later” I do finger guns and bolt to the parking lot.

“Wait Lili!” he tried to catch up to me.

“TEXT ME WHEN YOU GET HOME!” I yell before locating my parents “MOM! por favor start the car!” I get in and everyone picked up that I was not okay and something happened but needed some time to sort out my thoughts. Once we got home, I took a shower and slumped in my fuzzy chair in the dark.

There was a knock at my door “Hey, you wanna eat some hot chips with me?” it was Iwa.

“Sure” I open the door to let him in.

“What’s the deal with you? Everything was cool until you started running” he popped open a party size bag of hot cheetos con limon.

“Ugh it’s Maru” I grab a few cheetos “he out of nowhere just confessed and kissed me.”

“Oh shit!”

“Right?! And I feel a little fucked up” I crunched on a cheeto “because I feel like he could do better and when he kissed me, I felt nothing. And that was my first kiss, from my childhood friend!” I put my handful of cheetos in my mouth “I wanted to feel those good feelings but I didn’t. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Dang Lili, from how I see it” he licked the cheeto dust from his thumb “it’s a sign that he’s wrong and you aren’t the one for him” he gestured to the ceiling “the universe isn’t telling you to kiss every boy but just that it’s okay not to reciprocate feelings to somebody else. Your feelings are valid and you’re the baddest bitch here.”

I started to feel a lot better after talking to Iwa. I eventually told my mom and she said basically the same thing. I am confident to say that I am not in love with my friend and I don’t need their validation. Of course I didn’t get a chance to tell Maru since it’s summer and he’s busy with school. In some weird twist of fate, I got rejected by all these schools I applied to. I wasn’t upset, just questioning if this is the universe trying to tell me something.

“You okay sis?” carefully asked Rosa “you don’t look too hot.”

“I don’t know what to do” I spoke up from my desk “nothing but rejection letters and I’m not worried about school or where I go, but what’s wrong with having me as a student?”

“Hmmm, well I know daddy wants you to go to that school” she points at the blank UA application on my desk “and you want to go to a dance academy...por que no los dos? You can go to dance academy for college and go to hero school BUT only to spite dad.”

“Rosa, you’re a genius!” I praised her “who says you have bad ideas?!”

“I know I’m right” Rosa gives a power stance “I’m the powerhouse of the cell!”

And I did just that, I applied and got an invite almost immediately to take the entrance exam in early November. That gave me almost 2 months to train, plenty of time! I tried to hide this from my dad but the word slipped and he was too happy to take me to the exam and help me train. Don’t even get me started on that whole side of the family, uncle Tensei started crying, grandma and grandpa wouldn’t shut up on how the family is going to be full of heroes. All the while, I was trying to break the news that I wasn’t going to be returning for the advanced level courses of dance. All the instructors were sad to the point of begging, everyone else was happy that I was leaving.

-Day of exam-

“You have everything you need?” Dad asked me for the 5th time since we got in the car “we still have time to-”

“YES DAD! FUCK!” he was stressing me out “I’m ready to take this test, stop worrying.”

He sighed “You remind me so much of your mother when we were at UA” he smiled at the thought “she’d snap at me too when I was being overbearing, but I did it because I loved her and wanted her to succeed.”

“Well, what’s one thing she couldn’t leave without?”

“She didn’t feel right unless she hugged me goodbye” he chuckled “even something so simple made my heart race.” He pulls up to the front of the massive front gate of UA “we’re here, do your best! I believe in you.”

“Thanks dad” I take a deep breath “I’ll call you later.”

I walk in the place and I don’t see anyone familiar, just a bunch of students from public schools and other privates. I took a written exam, then came the infamous physical portion. My dad and his hero friends were telling me that it’s one of the toughest entrance exams in the nation, but I wasn’t afraid, just oddly excited! I do my stretches, just minding my business, when I get some crude comments.

“Excuse me but the dance auditions are that way” said some boy condescendingly “why don’t you take your little pink shoes and get out of here before the big scary robots crush you?”

I squinted at them as the group of boys behind them laughed “Excuse me but aren’t the weak little bitches auditions that way?” I stood up to show that I tower him in height “I’m in the right place little man.”

“Lets get to the gates dude, she’s scary”

Everyone was summoned to the start gate and I had a feeling that somebody was watching me. Not like a camera watching me but like somebody near me was looking at me. I looked around but didn’t see anybody familiar or staring at me, it didn’t matter once the siren wailed to start the exam. I was kicking mecha ass with some fancy moves thrown in and when I thought I was going to end the exam on a good note, I hear somebody cry out for help. I rushed over and saw someone had their arm and leg trapped under a mecha, with the added panic of the 0 point big boy mecha dangerously close. I wasn’t going to leave them there, so I gave my all to lift the mecha off them. I couldn’t even lift the thing an inch off them! I had to get creative and used my 2nd quirk to lift the mecha off. I did it and pulled them out to make a run for the safety line.

“It’s no use, just leave me here” said the trapped person “I can’t walk.”

“I’m not giving up on you! I don’t care if I fail this exam” I unraveled my sports jacket, shirt and the ribbons in my hair to fasten them to me “hold on tight! We’re going airborne!”

“Wha-!”

I use the last of my energy to blast us into the air in a wide arch to barely avoid the mecha crushing us. Of course I didn’t have a back up plan and we crash landed in the safety zone, on top of other students.

“Owchies” I groaned “is everyone okay? Sorry about that! I didn’t have a landing plan.”

The nurse runs over “WAH! Miss Iida?! You caused this mess?!”

“Heh ummm yea” I shamefully admitted “sorry Miss Eri, I couldn’t let this student get crushed by the big boy mecha.”

“Lets get you two in the stretcher, come on” she sighed in disbelief “and I’ll be telling your parents young lady!”

“Aww wack!” I pouted as robot helpers put me in the stretcher. I looked over to see the other person in the stretcher next to me “are you alright?”

“I’ll be okay know” they smiled at me “thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

“No problem! I’m Lili by the way.”

Before they could tell me their name, they were hauled away for intensive care. It was fair, they did get injured far worse than me, I walked away with just some gnarly bruises and a scraped shoulder. I didn’t see them after and I really wanted to know their name because they looked oddly familiar. My parents were worried about my injuries as I tend to heal slower. It was winter vacation, usually I’d be excited to be in the holiday mood but I was just waiting in anxiety for my letter. Come the last day of December, I got my acceptance letter! The amount of relief I got from it all was amazing, according to the letter, I scored the most rescue points. Making me at the top of the scoreboard along with some others, so I’m in Hero class A, just like dad and mom. My dad fussed over me the most in the weeks leading to the first day of school.

-Morning of the first day-

“Wake up Wake up Wake up!” yipped the robo dog as they bust into my room “it’s the first day of classes Lili and Hanaka! Please get dressed and hurry down for breakfast.”

“Hnnn it’s 7 in the god foresaken morning!” I groaned as I rubbed my eyes “welp, come on Rosa or the boys are going to beat us to the sinks.”

“Hn! 5 more minutes” she tossed in her bed “Tensei is gonna teleport us to school, you have to ride with daddy.”

“Don’t remind me you brat!” I threw my pillow at her “whatever, just don’t melt the shampoo bottles.”

“Fuck you!”

I quickly take my shower and got dressed in my new uniform to greet my parents. They fawn over how much I look like them when they went to UA, mom told me the story of how she got confused for a boy on the 1st day because her ass was too big for the skirts that they had to be tailor made! I got a good laugh out of that and it made me feel better about starting my school day. I kiss them goodbye and got in the car with dad.

“Excited Lili?”

“Yea, I mostly want to see if that person I rescued made it in” I could hardly sit still in the passenger side “the rush I got from them thanking me had me feeling alive.”

“I hope they did! Sounds like you made a friend if they did.”

“I also wonder who’s the homeroom teacher!” I said as we slowed at the last stoplight before school “since it’s not Eraserhead anymore, I hope it’s one of your friends or some other notable alumni.”

“That’s a good question” Dad pondered “you have to let me and your mother know when you get home” he stops at the same place as last time “here’s your stop, have fun and make friends!”

“Okay dad” I took in a calming breath “I’ll see you later!”

To think my parents walked through the same doors, not knowing that they were going to end up like this? Now their daughter... I hope I’ll find my soulmate here too. I have a soft spot for the love my parents have for each other, you can just tell that they’ve been working on their love since before they actually started dating. I often catch them making out, give loving embraces after a hard day and care for each other in different ways. I want to be loved as hard as my dad loves my mom.

“Lili? Is that you?!” Maru’s voice broke my train of thought.

“Huh? Oh, Maru! Hi!”

“Hey! You made it in!” he gave me a tight hug and twirled “welcome to UA! If you want, I have time to walk you to class.”

“Oh sure” he puts me down “do you know where room 1-A is?”

“Sure do! It’s down over here” he leads me to the hero wing “wow A class huh? I thought the hero stuff wasn’t for you?”

“I thought so too” I shrugged “guess I just had to try and see for myself.”

“If you’re not busy at lunch, we can eat together too.”

“Don’t you have friends here Maru?” I snickered at him.

“You have to call me Midoriya-senpai around the others” he said trying to silence me “and I have to call you Iida-chan.”

“Eww fuck no” I gagged “sounds like you’re calling my dad chan! I’m going to call you Maru, and you have to call me Lili MAYBE Perla if I’m acting up.”

“Fine but I’m saying that I’m respected around here for being one the top students” he bragged as he put his hand on my head “and you’re just a little bitty baby still!”

“Ah! Get yo hand off my hair” I tickle his side to retract his hand “looks like this is my class, see ya later!”

“You don’t play fair Lili” he waved me off “have fun.”

I walk in and see a few people already there, I looked around for my seat and mine is number 4. I set my bag down and get approached by someone.

“Um hi, you probably don’t recognize me but I’m the person you rescued at the exam” shakily spoke the person “I didn’t get a chance to say, but my name is Hoshi Togata.”

I looked at them and something was oddly familiar about them, like I knew them before the exam “Oh you made it in! I was worried if you placed and if you recovered well.”

“You were worried about me?” they blushed “well, I recovered just fine. My arm was broken but Nurse Eri healed me before I was supposed to go home.”

The bell rang and we all sat in our seats, Hoshi sat behind me.

“Good Morning class! And welcome to UA, my name is-”

“BAHAHA NO WAY!” I bursted into laughter “Yo we got Diaper Boy as homeroom teacher?!”

“My name isn’t Diaper Boy!”

“Oh I’m sorry, Diaper Man!”

Our teacher rubbed his temples “Anyways, my name is Grape Juice but you can call me Mineta sensei.” He gave me a stern look “Miss Iida, I trust you’ll behave like your father.”

“Don’t compare me to that Turbo Rectangle!”

“It’s like listening to your mother in your father’s body” he muttered.

Once we went through a whole day of classes, Hoshi and I walk around.

“You know Togata, you look oddly familiar and it’s bothering me a bit.”

“How?” they sweat a bit “I’m just one of the boys!”

“Hmmm, I feel like we met before the exam” I rubbed my chin “but I can’t quite remember, we were probably children when it happened.”

“Well, actually” he put some thought into it “I was thinking the same thing sort of, would it help if I told you my dad is Lemillion?”

“Oh shit! It’s coming back to me!” I was wide eyed as we head to the parking lot “yea! They have 2 boys and a girl my age. OH THAT’S WHO! I was thinking about your sister, how is she by the way?”

“Oh ummm I don’t have a sister” the smile on his face disappeared as he said that.

“Huh? Maybe I was-” I hear a car honk, it was mom “oop, gotta go! See you tomorrow!”

I hop in the car and waved bye. I told my family of my school day and my mom couldn’t stop laughing at the fact that their school-mate Mineta was the homeroom teacher. But as I was getting ready for bed, one thing was bothering me... where did I see Hoshi before?

-Chapter 1, End-

Next>

#bnha #mha #self insert au #not canon #book 2 chapter 1 #will update regularly #ask me anything #//Palma-sama Speaks #I did mention that this leg will follow the kids?#lots of call backs here AND Nurse Eri!#character sheet on Lili will be posted after the 2nd chapter bc I don't want to spoil the other call backs #and yes... Mimi had a child too! More on her later tho

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stophfoot · 4 years

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QB Fundamentals

After a two-year stint running Alabama’s offense, Doug Nussmeier took over as offensive coordinator at Michigan in 2014. His SEC experience was highlighted by a BCS Championship in 2012, and the development of quarterback AJ McCarron into an All-American and NFL draft pick. His offenses have produced prolific passers and six thousand-yard rushers during his career; including two, Eddie Lacy and T.J. Yeldon, at Alabama.

Nussmeier drills his quarterbacks with a center to work on ball security and the exchange. He recommends daily reps in practice from ‘under center’ and/or the shotgun or pistol. He also gives the quarterbacks a play to run in order to take advantage of ‘metal reps,’ and will also call different formations for the QB to process as he goes through his progressions. Nussmeier doesn’t have a preference as to how many fingers (one or two) that his QBs have on the laces of the ball. But it is absolutely critical, he believes, that when they grip the football that there is space between their hand and the ball. If not, the QB is palming the ball and needs to be corrected. When the ball is thrown it is important that it spins off the middle and index fingers, and is guided by the thumb and two little fingers, and doesn’t ‘duck’ in flight. The QB should snap his wrist when releasing the ball, and then use his elbow and wrist to follow through. To practice grip and release, Nussmeier does a drill in which the quarterback grips and throws the football in a rapid-fire sequence at a stationary target (such as a large tire used for conditioning). The emphasis is placed on a quick release, even if the QB throws without gripping the laces, which could become necessary under pressure in a game. To work on a quarterback’s footwork, timing and technique after he takes a snap from under center, or in shotgun or pistol, Nussmeier does a drill that’s de- voted exclusively to the drop. With ‘drop drill’ reps, a quarterback can improve on footwork quality and effectiveness, which will help him get to the launch point and release the ball faster. The first step should be straight back at 6 o’clock. Nuss- meier recommends putting quarterbacks on a yard-line to gauge if they’re dropping straight back to 6 o’clock. He does not teach his QBs to use a ‘punch step,’ which means the quarterback has one foot already back before the snap.

As he drops back, the quarterback’s shoulders and hips should be horizontal to the line of scrimmage. He should be balanced at the top (head and shoulders) and avoid bouncing. After he ‘sticks’ his back foot after reaching the proper depth and alignment, the QB is ready to deliver a pass. Nussmeier recommends that shotgun and pistol offenses also do ‘drop drills’ by modifying the under center drill. For example, Alabama runs from under center and the shotgun, so for a 5- step drop drill from under center, Alabama quarterbacks do a 3-step drill from the ‘gun. Until it is thrown, the ball should be held with two hands ‘on the shelf’ (chest high), Nussmeier teaches. He also believes progression drills should be con- ducted daily. Quarterbacks must have quick feet and eyes as they read their first, second and third routes. For right-handed passers, their left shoulder should be pointed at the target, with their weight shifted forward towards the receiver. The hips and shoulders are also in-line. A quarterback should always be watching the target, not tracking the ball, and finish the pass with his throwing shoulder and back hip pointed at the target. To simulate a screen pass, or when protection breaks down and a quarterback has to improvise, Nussmeier runs a drill to simulate what a QB has to do when the defensive line is applying pressure and he has to go to his checkdown route. When the quarterback can’t plant his feet in the ground, he must get in position to see his target at close range. He then plants his right foot, and brings his butt and elbow up, as he ‘climbs’ with his back leg and hip, following through over the top. Nuss- meier over-emphasizes following through over the top in order to get the nose of the ball down for accuracy. The ‘slide drill’ is all about horizontal movement when the pocket collapses. With the ball on the shelf, the QB leads with his back foot to move around and find a passing lane. Nussmeier coaches his quarterbacks to move around the pocket with small steps that he calls ‘half-man’ movements. He emphasizes small move- ment in order for the QB to not step into pressure while trying to avoid it. While moving in the pocket with half-man steps, the quarterback continues to search downfield for an open receiver. One of the basic plays in Nussmeier’s play-action scheme is a play he calls Deep Over. The play is designed to flood the boundary (short) side of the field. The H-Back is the primary target in the deep over. He runs an ‘over’ route to a depth of 12 yards, at an 18-to-22-degree angle. To get separation from tight man-to-man cov- erage, the H-Back executes a ‘stair step,’ which is a quick step up field before resuming the over route at a deeper angle. The X receiver runs a post route. Against Cover 3 or quarters (quarter, quarter and half deep zones) defenses, the X should run through the inside hand of the corner and set a high angle to the goal post. The QB is instructed to use the near- est upright as a reference point for a post route. Against Cover 2, receiver X, who can’t be jammed by a corner, should use an inside seam release and run for the in- side shoulder of the safety, which forces the corner to make a decision that can be exploited. Against inside-technique press coverage the X can release outside and run a ‘go’ route. The Z receiver runs a deep ‘in route’ at 18-20 yards, but Nussmeier advised that the route is rarely open, except for Cover 2, when the corner plays soft and the strong safety is running with the X receiver’s post. The checkdown route is to the running back in the flat, after he accounts for the Will linebacker in ‘check’ protec- tion. Nussmeier was a four-year starter at the University of Idaho, and then an NFL backup for five seasons. As a collegian, he’s one of only four QBs in the history of college football to throw for more than 10,000 yards and run for another thousand. After his NFL career ended after the 1998 season, he played one year in Canada with British Colombia. When he retired from playing in 2000, Nussmeier was BC’s quarterbacks coach the next season; then served in the same capacity with Ottawa in 2002. From 2003-05 he was in the Big 10, coaching quarterbacks at Michigan State; then coached QBs with the NFL’s St. Louis Rams for two seasons. In 2008 Nussmeier became offensive coordinator at Fresno State, then moved on to the PAC 12 at Washington as the OC/quarterbacks coach from 2009-11. Nussmeier, a native of Oswego, Oregon, became Alabama’s OC and quarterbacks coach in 2012; where he remained two season before heading to Michigan.

Pass Reads

Florida State University’s explosive offensive system has produced three Heisman Trophy-winning quarterbacks and several other NFL 1st Round Draft picks. Along with outstanding defense, the Seminole offense won legendary coach Bobby Bow- den 304 games and two national championships at FSU from 1976-2009. With only a few tweaks put in by Bowden’s successor, Jimbo Fisher, the Seminoles con- tinue to have one of the most explosive offenses in the country. In 2013 Fisher’s offense registered both a BCS title and Heisman-Trophy win- ner in quarterback Jameis Winston. Like most prolific offenses, FSU spreads the field with elite receivers and has a quarterback that can read coverages then make quick, accurate throws. However, the Seminoles don’t just train their QBs with offensive fundamentals, techniques and schemes. They provide extensive coaching on defensive techniques and alignments in order for them to recognize and react quickly to different coverages. Before moving to Auburn in 2013, Dameyune Craig taught FSU’s quarterbacks both fundamentals/techniques and defensive strategy. Craig, former quarterbacks coach and Recruiting Coordinator at FSU, was a record-setting quarterback himself at Auburn. He was also an NFL backup for four years until he suffered a career- ending injury. He first coached as an assistant at Blount High School, his alma mater near Mobile, Alabama, in 2003. To learn more about the defensive side of the ball, he spent two seasons with Nick Saban: as a graduate assistant (DBs) at LSU in 2004, and then a special teams assistant with the Miami Dolphins in ‘05. He then coached QBs at Division II Tuskegee (2006-07) and wide receivers at South Alabama (2008-09), before joining Fisher at Florida State. Craig schooled his FSU QBs on base Cover 2, Cover 3 and Cover 4 defenses, as well as all of their variations. He also gave insight on Cover 0 and Cover 1, but 2, 3 and 4 were the three primary coverages that the Seminoles faced in the ACC. They were trained to key the free safety to determine coverage. The depth of the safety is a primary factor in reading coverage. If two split safeties are deployed deep the de- fense is usually in Cover 2. However, one high safety is not read as quickly. One safety in the middle of the field pre-snap could be Cover 3 Zone, with the free safety and corners responsible for deep thirds. Or it could reveal Cover 1 Man, with one safety in the deep middle. Being that there could be variations in defensive alignments from team-to-team, it is important to study film of an upcoming opponent to facilitate an accurate read of the free safety’s depth on different coverages. Craig taught his FSU quarterbacks to not be concerned with the defense shift- ing pre-snap or overloading strong or weak side. Once the ball was snapped, FSU’s quarterback read one player, on one side of the field, for all pass plays. That one player could have been a strong safety or linebacker, but was most-often a corner- back. The leverage of a cornerback on a receiver is a key to reading coverage post- snap. If the corner is aligned head-up, seven yards off the receiver, and back ped- dles at the snap, he’s probably in zone coverage. A corner that plays a receiver tight with inside leverage is usually in man-to-man coverage. Florida State quarterbacks were taught progression and reaction as two sepa- rate functions. Progression is reading the coverage on the first, second and third routes. Reaction is the quarterback’s ability to exploit a particular situation he sees in his progression. For example, a pass defender’s shoulders can dictate if a route is open or not, Craig instructed. If the angle of a defender’s shoulders is turned in- ward, an out route will be open. If the shoulder angle is outward, an inside route such as a slant will probably work. And if a defender is facing the quarterback and his shoulders are square, Craig instructs his QBs to throw the ball over his head. The defender won’t have time to turn around, run to the ball, and then make a play. If a defender had his shoulders turned at an angle to defend both a deep and a mid-range route such as a ‘dig,’ FSU’s quarterback threw the dig, even though it appeared to be defended. The rea- son, Craig teaches, is because once a defender sees a QB release the ball, he’ll take a few steps back to defend a deep route first, before reacting to a shorter pass. An- other key to reacting to coverage is alignment. If a defensive back is standing out- side of the hash, an inside route probably works best. If the defender is on the hash, the quarterback knows to go with an outside route. In addition to knowing how to key the free safety to determine coverage, or the leverage of a corner, Craig identified dead spots in a defense for the quarterback to exploit. For Cover 2, which is a zone defense with man-to-man, trap, max and fire-zone variations, there are seven Dead Spots for a quarterback to find an open receiver. Dead Spot One is in the left flat outside of the hash mark. Spots Two and Three are in the middle of the field, between the linebacker and safeties. Spot Four is the right flat, outside the hash (the opposite of Dead Spot One). Dead Spot Five is the left deep section of the field, outside the hash; Spot Six is the deep middle; and dead Spot Seven is outside the hash on the deep right side of the field, similar to Dead Spot Five.

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beblebumm · 4 years

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lesbian mom

My sister told me I dress like a lesbian mom. With no offense meant towards lesbian mothers because as Chloe put it- if I was a lesbian mom, my style would be closer to cool. But because up to this point in life I have been straight and childless, I’m just an appropriator. Which I definitely don’t want to be by the way, but I'm an American and blind appropriation is the American way. Working on it. I’m in the kitchen in Cedar Falls finding all my last sporadic, traveled with items to shove in my XL backpack* by the time Chloe brings her new opinion up to her roommates, my family. “Cathy, don’t you think Maddie looks like a lesbian mom?” “a what? A lesbian? I didn’t hear you” ...and dad’s reaction: “oh.. did you get a surrogate then?” * (United and Frontier front like they will be strict about charging you based on the sizes of your luggage, but they won't be. Apparently my size of backpack does not count as a personal item (free) but instead a carry-on (not free). It's a glutinous excuse for a backpack. However, they don’t say shit to you when you show up on the day of your flight. In the words of my friend Grace: If it's on your back and not on wheels, you're fine. I have had to repack a backpack once, throwing on a sweatshirt and carrying socks in my hand to make it through. But you know what that was? Free.And Fyi- U.S. airlines alone made 5.1 billion bucks in extra baggage fees in 2018. Don't contribute to that mess.) * But anyways, to come to the defense of lesbian moms, I think I dress with the best intention. I don’t think I have bad taste, but I can have bad execution. It's not entirely my fault though, as I feel bigger boobs make a lot of outfits merge towards mother. Tops are always an issue because you have the possibility of looking tenty, and opposite that- the issue of looking too tucked in. It can make the attempted effortlessness come off as starchy. I also straddle this line of wannabe skater and NOT wannabe school teacher, meaning I would love to come across as someone who deserves to wear Vans and less like someone who is reading to your child over snack time. That one is harder to explain, but has a lot to do with stripes. I don't bother running all of this past her, but I told Chloe that if I was flat-chested she wouldn’t be saying this. She didn’t argue but offered to help pay for my reduction. My dad and I get in the car after I make an everything bagel with some onion flavored cream cheese. A Thomas brand bagel, of course. Because it’s the cushiest and you can find them everywhere. We love a processed carb. He drives me to the airport in his new-but-used Toyota Highlander, which doesn’t reek of cigs like his previous whip. He only likes this new car because it has a cassette player, but the low mileage is a plus. I just want to say that the Cedar Rapids airport is low entertainment. It’s a trade-off because you are through security in seconds, but you have to do things like chase after people to hand them their ID’s they left on the counter to help the employees out because we’re Iowa nice and when in the homeland you have to act right. And people wear really ugly printed leggings and foul footwear. Lots of camo and lots of Hawkeye logos, which I do not identify with despite it being my alma mater. I was caught in a very vulnerable spot with my thick and tall Doc Marten's, (not a good airport shoe but a good everyday shoe so what can you do) hunched over the ‘Get Your Shit Back Together Very Quickly Bench’ that comes after security, when I see this rushed looking, young nerd man in a long black trench coat. He LOUDLY and SO abruptly asks this similarly aged gal he was coming up behind whether her hair was red or blonde. She had long red hair with dyed blonde ends. She said “red?” and he says nothing but “HUMPH” without breaking speed at all. Why did he need to know that and also why could he not see that her hair was both colors? And if he cared so much to know, then why did he not respond? Did he think this was considered to be hitting on her?? Because practically yelling at her to inquire about her appearance is not cutting it. I wish for his sake I could at least call him a boomer but he didn't meet the age requirement. Whatever. She looked around for confirmation that what had just happened to her was so weird, which of course I gave to her by saying: “That was so weird.” The sole restaurant by the gates has Blue Moon so that’s redeeming. But it’s in a tin can which is not so good. I used to prefer a draft pour with an orange slice but I am partial to a cold bottle now, plain- no orange. It’s more consistent this way, as some places don’t clean their draft lines regularly and it shows. I met an icon on my flight today. I, of course, was assigned my usual middle seat as I am certain I paid the littlest amount of airfare out of everyone on the plane. Deals only. But as I step up to my row and make that apologetic eye contact with the dude who is about to have to move and let me assume my usual middle spot, the guy asks me if I want to switch spots with his son- WHO HAS AN AISLE SEAT. YEAH SIR, I DO. And this is how I was seated next to the only stranger I’ve had an extended conversation with on an airplane, ever. At least to the point where I was sure I wanted to be buddies with her. She was not stoked on the middle seat, but it’s the one she had in our row. The icon is named Erin and she said: “I’ve been ignoring people on planes for 20 years but you seem like an absolute riot.” I realized I also tend to spend a lot of time ignoring people on airplanes. I actually spend more time trying not to bother the people around me, aka holding urine in until I am nearly bursting because the awkward fumbling out of my usual middle seat is too much. I did, however, have slight banter with a guy sitting next to me on the way into Iowa from Denver on this same trip. All he wanted to say to me was that he had just been skiing in Vail or something. People love being able to say sentences like this, by the way. "Skiing in Vail". It's supposed to impress whoever they tell. Ok. But later on, he and I would exchange terrified eyes as we watched this awful moment unfold after an older fellow in the row across from us ignored all social rules and played his voicemails on full blast, speaker volume, for about 10 minutes. A young gentleman near us let him know that “We can all hear that!” which I would have never said but was also thinking. Obviously. The Voicemail Blarer says “Oh sorry” calmly but is very caught off guard. I thought- wow. That went well. But the Voicemail Blarer takes all of 30 seconds to stew before erupting. He belly yells that he is a “WAR VETERAN AND THAT IS WHY I CANNOT HEAR OUT OF THIS EAR WHICH IS WHY MY PHONE IS ON SPEAKER AND BY THE WAY IM ON THIS FLIGHT BECAUSE MY MOM JUST DIED AND I AM FLYING BACK TO IOWA FOR THE FUNERAL. PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE AHHHHHHHHH KDFKSJDFLKJDFLJSDF”... I feel like the percentage of people flying to Iowa for funerals is probably a decent chunk. Either you're visiting your family or someone died. Just speculating. ANyways. The Mourning Vet Voicemail Blarer said some pretty harsh remarks towards the Complainer that I can’t remember because I was so nervous as a witness to this that my adrenaline was working overtime to suppress. I remember being proud of The Complainer as he kept very level and only said a couple words to defend himself followed by: “I’m sorry you’re going through that man but we don’t all need to hear your voicemails.” I see both sides of this interaction. On the younger Complainer dude’s side, it’s not socially courteous for the vet to be playing his voicemails out loud. Especially for ten minutes. I mean Larry David would have lost it. On the other hand, no one was insulting his status as a vet or poking fun at his late mother, but he has obviously been through more life and more challenges than I and plus he’s grieving. I don’t know. I didn’t mind the voicemails THAT much. Back to today- Erin is the second stranger I’ve met who inspired me this month. Technically this year, and technically this decade, too. Happy 2020. From what I saw, she’s a kick-ass, take no shit, lay it all on the table kind of individual. She had a natural openness about her and radiated warmness but is the type to probably gaurd herself just enough. The kind of person who you would hate to see sad. Born in cedar rapids, went to Iowa for Journalism, got her masters at Syracuse. Has lived all over- New York, London, LA (I think she said). Will not donate to her old sorority, Chi O, because she can’t affiliate with that anymore because it’s lame. But she’s loyal enough to one of her sorority besties to fly to Denver and sit with her while she undergoes a chemo treatment. She asks me about work and I say I have enough side hustles to equate to having a real job. She tells me I need a podcast and says I must have been told this before. I haven’t. But If I had one, I would have her guest star immedieately. She oozes content. Apparently, there’s such a thing as coaching people on how to talk on camera because this is her job. It can be split up into different categories based on the size of the screen. Phone, computer, TV, etc. She kept saying things about “inches”. I thought this was wildly specific, exactly the sort of job you wouldn’t think about until you thought about it. Niche. Hopefully future me is doing something niche right now. But only if I'm enjoying it. She also mentioned some clients she has that I should speak to so I can learn how to travel the world for free. I could have clung to her and never let go after she said this, as that would make my life and her encouragement inspired me. Before this though, we agree I need a credit card that rewards with airline miles instead of cashback. It’s third up on my “to-do now” list- which is different than my “to-do” list becasue that one is for things like making dentist appointments. For the things that should not be put off but can and will be. Until they can't. She asks what my sign is, which is Sagittarius. She said of course. She’s a Virgo. I have no clue what this means. People ask me this sort of thing a lot now though so I need to read up. This guy I met recently who works at Wax Trax Records told me not only extensively about my sign but about my rising moon and one other part of it that I can’t remember. Or is it your rising sign and moon sign as separates? Idk. He told me that every girl he knows has an ex-boyfriend who is a Pisces. True. Erin also told me she’s on some board in Iowa City that is currently discussing the ped mall. I had a lot to say about THAT, as I feel the ped mall has turned into wasted space other than maybe one and a half shops. She agrees. It’s not being utilized like it should be, we think. Too many frat bars. Apparently, her family owns the Bluebird cafes or used to, and I said "ooooooooh!" but that I could never get a seat in the Iowa City location because every hungover kid within a ten mile radius is trying to eat there every Saturday and Sunday morning. I also thought of the time they burned my friend Madison Wood’s toast and she sent it back. I didn’t tell her this though. I like Bluebird. And I hate when people at my table complain about the food. She tells me I'm too good to write for random freelances, which I have dipped my toes into doing. Pays like shit. I agree and listen to her tell me about someone she met when she was just one year sober (she is now ten years along) who pushed her to take charge of her own point of view. It sounded to me like she was inspired to trust and invest in herself. I liked that. As if I needed another excuse to stay out of corporate America. Right before she fell into meditation and soon to be sleep, Erin comments on my middle part and my “nice natural eyebrows” which is funny because I helped the brows out right before going through security. (By helped out, I mean makeup-ed. In the airport bathroom, too far away from the mirror, two different pencils- one chubby for careless shading and one skinnier to help the endpoints of my brow that is otherwise dead.) On the topic of my appearance, I tell her that my sister had just told me that I dress like a lesbian mother. She said she loves my sister.

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queercapwriting · 5 years

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Yaz’s Fight (Yaz is a Badass™ and the Doctor is a Disaster Gay™)

prompt from @itsadisasterthanksforinvitingme “Yaz loses her shit about something and 13 has to follow her while she solves the problem this time (and works out whatever she’s angry about). This time Yaz grabs the doctors hand and drags her along, and it’s Yaz’s plan that might fail, and Yaz’s monologue that we get to hear. All while the doctor helps and marvels at this amazing human.“

It was supposed to be a routine stop home, but they all should have known -- and maybe, really, they did -- that routine with the Doctor very seldom means ordinary.

Because the moment Yaz steps out into the Sheffield air, she knows something’s wrong. It’s obvious; it’s all over the brick walls the Doctor parked beside.

“Doctor, this isn’t right,” she calls back into the TARDIS, her smile fading. “No.”

She doesn’t explain and she doesn’t tell anyone to follow her.

Ryan, Graham, and the Doctor just... do.

It makes sense, in an oddly seamless kind of way.

Ryan looks around to try to make sense of what’s gotten Yaz so worked up.

Graham murmurs something about “now it’s both of them doing it.”

The Doctor licks her lips as she watches Yaz walk, as she pulls the TARDIS door shut behind her.

“What is it, Yaz?” she jogs lightly to catch up, exchanging a concerned but confident glance with Ryan.

“This isn’t right,” Yaz repeats, her fists in balls at her side.

“Okay. I can check the TARDIS specs again, but I do think we’ve got the right year -- “

“That’s not what’s wrong, Doctor,” Yaz stops walking abruptly.

The Doctor barrels forward into her. They reach to steady each other, the Doctor’s hands finding Yaz’s waist and Yaz letting her arm drop back behind her to steady the Doctor around her thigh.

Ryan chortles and Graham clears his throat.

“Alright?” the Doctor checks, her eyes sweeping up and down Yaz’s body.

“Yeah,” Yaz gulps, more breathless than a short walk, even brisk, would ever make her.

“So. Yasmin Khan. Tell me what isn’t right. I mean, specifically with why you walked off, not a whole list of everything wrong in the cosmos, because frankly, that’ll get long and depressing and -- “

“The school, Doctor. The school. Look.”

The Doctor looks in the direction Yaz points to, at a blank brick wall in the near distance.

“There’s no more mural,” the Doctor murmurs, and Yaz brightens slightly, almost like she’s proud. Like the roles are reversed -- Yaz has the lead and the Doctor has the sharp observation skills -- and she likes it, underneath her anger.

“No more mural,” she confirms, exchanging a significant glance with an open-mouthed Ryan. “Come on, then, Doctor,” Yaz squares her jaw and restarts her stride, taking the Doctor’s hand into her own and pulling her forward.

Graham nudges Ryan in the ribs, and Ryan nearly trips over himself.

Yaz doesn’t notice, and neither -- staring down at their connected hands like she’s never seen quite an appendage before -- does the Doctor.

“So what’s the deal with this mural, Doc -- er, Yaz?”

“Ryan should remember,” Yaz answers vaguely, still walking briskly toward the school, still holding the Doctor’s hand.

“It was a message,” Ryan explains, jogging slightly to catch up to his friends. “From those of us who were born here, to those of us who weren’t. Immigrants and refugees, you know?”

“The students in the middle school got together and made their school let them do the mural. Against xenophobia and imperialism and all that.”

“And now it’s gone,” Graham turns back to look at the wall, mystified.

“And it looks like it was never there, yeah,” Yaz comes to a halt just outside the school doors.

She only lets go of the Doctor’s hand when she needs one hand to open the door and the other to reach for her badge.

She doesn’t look too happy about the loss of contact, and the Doctor looks baffled. And intrigued. And amazed.

And maybe something that Ryan might call turned on, but just maybe.

“’Scuse us, sweetie,” she drops to one knee a meter or two in front of a young boy on his way out of class and into the restroom. “My name’s Yaz, and these are my friends. Ryan, Graham, and... the Doctor. What’s yours?”

“Jeffrey,” the boy answers, gamely but shyly.

“Jeffrey. A great name. Now listen, Jeffrey, do you remember that big painting on the wall outside the school?”

The boy nods. Normally, the Doctor is all about children, when they’re around. But right now, she can’t take her eyes off of Yasmin Khan.

“That’s good. Do you know who painted over it? Or when?”

“The aliens did it,” the boy leans in to whisper. “Not the bad word for other humans, I mean. The ones with magic science who come from another planet. Most of them were nice, but a few, they -- “

“Excuse me,” heels click down the hall, and Yaz rises off of her knee.

“Jeffrey, go finish your business and then get back to your class.”

The boy nods obediently, but not before giving Yaz a long, significant look, and jerking his head over his shoulder toward the new, authoritative voice.

“That’s no way to talk to a child, with that tone,” the Doctor speaks for the first time, like instinct, but with a backward glance from Yaz, she smiles and quiets down, happy to defer to her... friend? More?

Fam.

Fam works.

“And four adults strolling into a middle school with no -- Yasmin Khan? Ryan Sinclair? Well, you two have grown.”

“And you... haven’t aged a day, Mr. Pierce,” Yaz tilts her head from one side to another. “And we were just popping in to check on our alma mater, you know -- we noticed the mural outside’s been washed away. Not even painted over with something new, just... erased.”

“Times have changed, Ms. Khan. And your other friends are -- “

“Graham, Ryan’s granddad, and my...”

Yaz’s stomach flips, the Doctor’s eyes go wide, Ryan holds his breath, and Graham wishes he had popcorn to watch Yaz parkour her way out of this one.

“My... the Doctor. This is the Doctor.”

“You bring your physician to visit your old school?”

“She’s not my...” Yaz takes a deep breath. “Oy, what is that smell? Are you all experimenting with a different cleaner, or what?”

“I smell nothing,” Mr. Pierce straightens his shoulders.

“No, Yaz is right, it’s like...” The Doctor smacks her lips, and Yaz doesn’t even bother trying to repress the smile that forms in her eyes. “Like marble and cedar? With a drop of...” She breathes in with exaggerated depth. “Is that lemon oil?”

“Lemon oil, definitely,” Graham helps as Ryan nods.

“And you dropped by to... smell your old school hallways?”

“No, sir, it’s as I’ve said: the mural is gone, and it seems rather sudden, and I didn’t hear about any movement from the students to replace it with anything else or -- “

“As I said, Ms. Khan. Times change.”

“Yeah, and they haven’t been changing for the good, in case you haven’t noticed. They’ve been spiraling down and down, and that mural was a monument to the fact that our students are better than the world they’re growing up in. Did the students say they wanted to take it down? Because they sure fought to get it painted in the first place, barely two years ago now, so what -- “

“If you’d like to learn more about our school’s policies, I suggest you set an appointment,” Mr. Pierce interrupts, his eyes distant and his voice cold. He’s staring over Yaz’s shoulder at the Doctor’s face, like Yaz hadn’t spoken at all.

“Oy, look at Yaz while she’s talking to you,” Ryan scolds, and the Doctor smirks at his defiance and beauty.

“That’s alright, Ryan,” Yaz’s tone is measured and careful, her eyes fixed on Mr. Pierce’s face. “I think Mr. Pierce just gave us everything we need.”

She doesn’t say good bye to the man, and she doesn’t say anything to her friends, but they all follow her.

She takes the Doctor’s hand again as she reverses direction and stalks back out of the school.

“So,” she says as the big double doors close behind them, but she doesn’t let go of the Doctor’s hand. “Mr. Pierce was replaced or something by one of the aliens little Jeffrey was talking about, because that man would have aged in the last decade, and because -- “

“The lemon zing in the air!” the Doctor contributes triumphantly, and Yaz squeezes her hand and kisses her knuckles too quickly to realize the implications of what she’s done.

The Doctor trips over herself and Ryan would too, if Graham hadn’t caught him.

“Exactly, the lemon zing. Because I remember you saying something about the after effects of Zygon duplication, that scent, that taste... And if someone was invested in maintaining the status quo, taking down that mural, stripping the students of their ability to support each other, to see beyond borders, that... it makes sense, doesn’t it? Turning the population against itself as preparation for an invasion.”

“So what do we do?” Ryan asks, and even though Yaz stops walking and looks at the Doctor instinctively, it’s the Doctor’s turn to squeeze Yaz’s hand.

“Your turf, your rules, Yasmin Khan.” Her voice is rich and her eyes are deep with admiration.

It only takes her an hour of rifling through the TARDIS; of rambling through her own thought process out loud; of taking one of Graham’s sandwiches and eating it while poring over months’ worth of school newspaper archives with Ryan; of putting her hands on the Doctor’s hips when she needs to pass behind her to look at the result of yet another projection she’d asked the TARDIS to run; to come up with her plan.

The first thing they do is find Jeffrey again -- he’s more than eager to help -- and then it’s off to the races.

They find the real Mr. Pierce plugged into a life-support chamber in the school’s basement, and Yaz, this time, is the one to explain to him everything that’s going on. To explain that he’ll be alright, that she knows this is confusing, but the students are fine and he’s going to be fine, too.

It’s Yaz who gets to explain her plan to the fake Mr. Pierce, emphasizing the point about how ironic it is to stir up xenophobic fears amongst humans while trying to colonize the entire planet, bit by bit, school by school.

It’s Yaz who gets to explain that the students aren’t going to stand for it; it’s Yaz who gets to tell him to walk outside with her and see the students of his middle school out there with Ryan, Graham, and the Doctor, repainting the mural even bigger and better than it had been the first time.

Ryan and Jeffrey are helping each other mix some paint, and Graham is supervising a group of eighth graders outlining the new design on the wall.

The Doctor, though -- even in her new white smock, already covered in a rainbow smear of paint -- is staring right at Yaz already, wonder and awe at her companion in her eyes.

“You were amazing today, Yaz,” the Doctor tells her that night over cocoa in one of the many TARDIS kitchens.

“Like you are every day,” Yaz counters easily, softly, and both of them remember the feeling of their hands connected.

“Like you are every day,” the Doctor returns, her hand hovering between reaching for Yaz’s and tucking her hair back behind her own ear.

Yaz reaches up and does it for her.

Their eyes meet and the Doctor gulps, hard.

Yaz clears her throat and tries not to glance at the Doctor’s lips.

She fails.

She panics.

“Best be making sure the boys aren’t getting themselves into trouble,” she murmurs, and the Doctor nods.

“Good night, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor whispers, hope trembling in her voice.

“Good night, Doctor,” Yaz returns, the same hope steady in her own.

One day.

#thasmin #thasmin fic #thirteen x yaz #thirteenth doctor #thasmin fanfic

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emeraldwaves · 5 years

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Title: What We Lack Part 8 Pairing: Kacchako, Deku/Melissa, Todomomo Rating: T Word Count: 4,484 Read on Ao3 Summary:

Quirkless.

They’re the last people anyone expects to have a child without a quirk.

Neither of them can fully wrap their heads around it, but Ochako knows Katsuki is struggling far more than her.

Thank you to @its-love-u-asshole for beta-ing

Full fic under the cut

Small rocks floated around the brown-haired boy's body and he grinned at the cowering girls in front of him.

"Shouhei please...!"

"No," he growled. "No one talks to my sister like that."

Blue flames covered Todoroki Yuuta's arm, his white and black hair covering his eyes. "I'll help," he muttered.

"No! Stop! You're just going to get in trouble for using your quirks at school again-" Sayuri begged, anger laced in her voice.

How many times would other people have to stick up for her?

And as if on cue, a voice boomed over the loudspeaker:

"Bakugou Shouhei and Todoroki Yuuta must cease all quirk activities immediately. Come straight to the principal's office now!"

Shouhei clenched his fist, his arms trembling at his side. "Hell no. Like I can stop now," he growled, holding his hand out. "How the fuck did they even know we were fighting?! I'm sorry sis, but I can't let these girls get away with attacking you."

Pushing herself up, she limped towards him, putting herself in between the girls and the two boys. "Please... guys... stop." She glared at her brother, knowing nothing good was going to come of this.

Yuuta glanced towards Shouhei, only stopping his flames when the other boy lowered his arm, the rocks falling to the ground. "Fucking fine," Shouhei growled,

The two girls slouched against the wall. "I hate them so much. They think because their parents are famous they can do whatever they want," one of them whispered.

Sayuri bit her lip and immediately snapped back around at the two girls. "I would shut your mouths if I were you two," she hissed. "The only reason my brother didn't destroy you is because I stopped him," she said, pushing against Shouhei's back, not wanting him to erupt at the two girls. As much as she didn't wish to attack them, she hated when people spoke of them that way... she hated when people looked down on her for being quirkless.

'What a useless bitch.'

'She doesn't even have a quirk?'

'Can you believe her mom is Uravity and her dad is Ground Zero? They must be so proud!'

She'd heard it all; the biting sarcasm, the mean comments. The words often echoed in her head over and over, and sometimes, like today, things escalated even when she tried to keep the peace, like her mother always taught her. But when things went too far... it was no surprise Shouhei stepped in.

She usually attempted to hide it from him, knowing he would explode at them as he almost just had. But when she didn't meet him, Yuuta, and Arata to walk home together, he obviously knew something was wrong.

Today one of the girls kicked her in the leg so hard, she was convinced she'd maybe fractured something. The girl had a strength quirk, and though it was subtle, she used it to add power to her kick, slamming into Sayuri's leg when she was taken off guard. Normally, she would've fought back physically... it wasn't like she was a weakling or anything!

But as she limped after her brother and Yuuta, she never felt more pathetic.

Shouhei glanced over his shoulder and sighed, turning around to help her. He let her lean against him. "Shou... you have to stop doing this..." she mumbled. "I don't want you and Yuuta to ruin your chances of going to U.A..." she said softly, trying to calm her anger. She was her father's daughter in so many ways, but she knew it wouldn't do her any good to explode at school.

"I don't fucking care. That bitch practically broke your leg!"

"It doesn't really matter-"

"Of COURSE it fucking matters!" Shouhei cursed loudly.

The three walked slowly to the principal's office, knowing punishment awaited them. Luckily, they hadn't attacked, but quirk use was strictly prohibited on school property, and Sayuri knew the two were going to get in trouble because of her. Again. This certainly wasn't the first time, and a sinking feeling in her gut told her it might not be the last.

As they rounded the corner, Sayuri felt her stomach drop even more. "Oh no..." she muttered, recognizing the tall blond head of her father, and next to him stood a frowning Todoroki Shouto, the white part of his hair brushed to the side across his forehead. Arata stood next to his father, looking guilty. Had he told on them? Sayuri wouldn't have been surprised.

"What the FUCK is this?!" Katsuki growled and stormed over to his two children. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Daddy...I... " she whispered, her voice breaking. Something about seeing her father here instead of her mother made her want to cry.

"No!" Shouhei yelled. "Don't you dare apologize. These girls were attacking her, and me and Yuuta were trying to help her until the damn principal told me to stop!" he growled.

Katsuki's brow twitched and he stormed back towards the man's office. The principal was a tall man with dark hair. To this day, Sayuri was still unaware of his quirk, but the man took the rules very seriously. Sayuri unfortunately met with him many times due to incidents with her brother and bullying.

So far, middle school wasn't shaping up to be great.

"The fuck is this?" Katsuki growled. "You call me in here to yell about my son, but you're not doing anything to stop the girls attacking my fucking daughter to the point where she's limping."

"We're looking into the bullying incident as well, Bakugou-san but-"

"Bullshit!" Katsuki yelled, slamming his fist against the wall. "Why the fuck are my kids and Half and Half's getting in trouble over THIS?"

The tall man sighed. "Look... we should be giving your son far more than a warning for how many times he's used his quirk in school. But... given the nature of this incident we will allow you both to handle how you wish to punish your children accordingly. No matter the situation, we don't allow quirks to be used at school."

"Fine. I'll just punch them with my fists next time," Shouhei grumbled.

"If only," Sayuri growled and shook her head.

"We're fucking leaving," Katsuki hissed, making his way to his children. He bent down, picking Sayuri up onto his back.

"D-Dad! I can walk."

"Forget it," he snapped. "Let's get out of this hellhole."

"We're leaving as well," Shouto muttered, glancing towards the principal. "I will speak to my children about using their quirks in school, but I won't stop them if they're going to do what they think is right." He spoke coldly, and shot an icy glare towards the principal.

"Bye Shou-kun..." Yuuta muttered, following his father and brother in the opposite direction out of the school.

"See ya..." he grumbled, following after his dad and sister.

Yeah, middle school wasn't the best.

The car ride home was uncomfortably silent, and Sayuri could feel the anger resonating off of her dad and brother.

"That school is so fucking terrible," Katsuki grumbled under his breath. "We'll look at switching."

"No!" Sayuri spat out quickly.

"Hah?" Katsuki said, turning to face his daughter once they stopped at a red light.

She frowned and folded her arms. "It doesn't matter where I go to school. People are going to say the same shit to me. Where I go won't change who I fucking am!" she cursed angrily. "I want to stay with Kazu-kun..." she said. "He's my best friend and without him, it will be really fucking terrible," she muttered, speaking Katsuki's words back to him.

Katsuki rubbed his forehead. "We'll speak with your mother when she's home tonight. She's not going to be happy with that damn school." He mostly grumbled under his breath, angry. "You're both fucking lucky that damn principal wants to kiss me and Half and Half's asses!"

"Whatever," Shouhei said, rolling his eyes. "Those girls didn't even give Sayu a chance to fight back." He glanced back at her, his brown eyes nodding to her. "You know she would've kicked their asses if they did," he said.

"Duh," she muttered, leaning her chin on her hand as she stared out the window. She didn't want Shouhei to constantly protect her. Besides, she had two years left at the place and Shouhei was about to graduate.

"Yeah I get that, baby girl, but no one should be fucking fighting in school. And Shou, you have the U.A recommendation exam next week! You're lucky your mother-"

"'--and I are famous ranked heroes cause otherwise you wouldn't be so damn lucky!'" Shouhei spoke over their father, his head tilting back and forth as he said the words Katsuki spoke to him a million times. "I get it, Dad," he snapped.

A growl slipped from Katsuki's lips. Sayuri knew her father would never yell at Shouhei for protecting her, but he was concerned about his application status for the future. She knew how important it was to Shouhei to attend her parents alma mater. He was the only one who really could apply to the hero track, even though both of them wanted to when they were young children.

Katsuki tapped his fingers with frustration against the steering wheel. "I'm dropping you off at home Shouhei," he said, "while I take Sayuri to the doctor to get her leg looked at. And you better be fucking studying when I get home."

"What!?" Sayuri yelled. "I don't need a doctor!"

"You might need a fucking brace," he said. "If they really kicked you so hard you're limping..." he muttered and clenched his fists around the steering wheel. "Hell if I had been there I would've killed them myself!"

"Dad..." Sayuri snorted. "I'm really fine..."

"Your mother will worry and fuss if we don't go, so shaddup and listen," Katsuki snapped.

"Okay, okay," she folded her arms, not looking forward to dealing with another doctor visit.

Shouto glanced up at his two sons both sitting in the backseat. Neither of them were looking at each other, and he could only assume things were tense since Arata was the one who told the principal about the incident.

He knew he needed to ask for Yuuta’s side. The last thing he wanted was one them thinking Shouto was playing favorites. "Yuuta," Shouto began softly, flicking his eyes up to the mirror. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Yuuta twisted his lips, glancing up front. "What? You don't want to ask world-class tattle-tail, Arata?" he mumbled. Yuuta never was great at arguing or fighting. He was the quieter of the two, which was why it shocked Shouto to see Yuuta be the troublemaker. It didn't help that Bakugou Shouhei was usually involved, no surprises there.

"Shut up, Yuuta. If you ruin my chance of getting into U.A on recommendation-" Arata growled.

"What does anything I do have to do with you getting in?" Yuuta snapped, folding his arms angrily over his chest.

"We're twins! We have the same name and the same connections! Of course they'll associate us together and you-"

"Boys!" Shouto called out slamming his foot on the brake which caused them both to lurch forward. "Enough. Yuuta, I asked you a question. It was not an invitation to argue with your brother." He continued to drive, pulling into their driveway as he placed the car in park.

Yuuta let out a sigh. "Sayuri... was in trouble. Those same girls started to beat her again. They caught her completely off guard so she had no chance to fight back. When Shouhei ran off, I followed him to help-"

"Yeah, cause you're so far up his ass-"

"Arata! W-What the hell are you talking about?!" Yuuta yelled, his face turning bright red.

"Boys!" Shouto hissed, turning around to glare at his sons. "You both... did the right thing... in a way."

"We're not supposed to use our quirks at school-"

"No, no, Arata, please... listen to me. Both of you need to listen," Shouto said. "Yuuta, I understand the desire to help Shouhei keep Sayuri safe. Though it's against the rules, you are doing what you think is right and I commend you for that."

Yuuta's eyes lit up, and he turned to smirk at Arata before Shouto continued to talk. "However, Arata is right. When the rules are being broken and it could cause harm to others, it is okay to ask for help in stopping something. Both of you need to be very cautious. The U.A recommendation exam is next week and I know you'll both excel at it. Please think of your futures." Shouto nodded at both before stepping out of the car. "I will speak to your mother about this matter so as not to stress her out more than needed."

Yuuta let out a sigh as he stepped around the car, following his father and his brother towards the house. He paused watching them walk, his legs feeling heavy, as if he couldn't keep up with them.

His brother turned towards him, glaring as he headed inside of their house. Yuuta was familiar with the look, and could read his brother well. 'I know you don't care about the U.A exam, but I do. He wasn't... wrong necessarily. Arata was so concerned about the U.A exam, when Yuuta wasn't even sure if he wanted to take the damn thing. The last thing he wanted was to fall behind his brother and Shouhei, but was he really cut out to be a hero? Would he really be able to pass? His father seemed so sure and yet...

Yuuta had never felt so unsure of anything in his whole life.

Sayuri tapped her uninjured foot as she and her father sat in the waiting room for her results. She glanced to the side to stare at him, surprised by how much older he looked. His arms were crossed, his lips curled into his signature pout and the wrinkles around his red eyes were creased as he kept his brow furrowed.

"So, uh... why did you come instead of Mom?" she asked. She knew her father wasn't one for casual conversation, but the tension was too much for her to handle.

"She's helping a rescue team on the other side of the city," he grumbled.

"Oh... Sorry to pull you from work," she mumbled, knowing how seriously 'Ground Zero' took his work. He was number one for a reason.

"Shut it," he growled. "Don't apologize for bullshit like that."

"R-Right," she stammered, turning to face away from him.

They were silent, the sound of old music echoing through the speakers, crackling in her ear. The last thing she wanted to be was a disappointment to him, though she knew she probably was the moment they discovered she was quirkless.

It wasn't something they usually talked about. In fact, most of the time they avoided it altogether. Shouhei discussed his quirk all the time, especially lately when he'd been readying himself to apply to U.A. Not that any of them were worried. Shouhei was strong; son of the number 1 hero and number 4 hero. He was their pride and joy. Why wouldn't he be?

And then there was her. Quirkless Sayuri. She got good grades since she spent most of her time studying or working on fun tech projects with Kazu. Together they worked on various science projects, occasionally sneaking into Kazu' mother's private lab at his house to fiddle with her unused, scrapped projects.

When they got caught, Melissa usually joined in.

She was passionate about it, mostly. She liked the idea of helping heroes to better use their quirks. But as much as she wanted to let it go, there was a part of her that longed to fight alongside them.

Her eyes glanced to her father's hands, the source of all his power. She bit her lip and wondered what it would feel like to have so much strength at her fingertips. Knowing her, she'd probably explode too many things she wasn't supposed to.

"What?" he said, catching her eyes staring.

"EH?! Nothing!" she snapped, and folded her arms, glancing away from him. Dreaming of having a quirk like her father’s was silly.

Useless.

Forever a dream.

"Bakugou Sayuri?" the doctor said, calling her back into the room. Her father followed behind her. She could hear the murmurs of a few of the nurses, wondering if it was 'actually him, actually Ground Zero'. She was half tempted to yell at them to take a picture, but she knew her father would hate that.

Still, she could feel their stares. Always could feel their stares. It wasn't so bad if she was alone, but if either of her parents were there, she could forget about flying under the radar.

Part of the problem with having famous parents meant she was, in turn, famous too. Infamous maybe was a better word. Ground Zero and Uravity's quirkless daughter; 'a wonder'! More like, something to stare at.

"It seems you have some internal bruising and-"

Next to her she heard the small crackle of tiny explosions and she saw the sparks flying in her father's hand.

"I have to ask you to not use your quirk in here, I apologize, Ground Zero-" the man said, and Katsuki let out a long huff.

"I'll kill the girls who did this."

"Dad... it's fine..."

"It's not fuckin' fine! No one touches my family. No one."

"They're just shitty middle schoolers," she said, clenching her fists over the side of the chair.

"If you're having trouble at school-" the doctor began.

Sayuri rolled her eyes, unable to hold her tongue this time. "What? Do you really think I wouldn't have trouble at school!? I'm the quirkless daughter of Ground Zero and Uravity! You think that would just go untouched? Are you a fucking moron?!" she growled at her doctor. "Let me guess, ice it and use crutches if I can. Got it. We can leave."

"I apologize. I wanted to offer you assistance-"

"Yeah, thanks, but no thanks." She stepped down slowly, leaning against her father so she could walk easier.

"Let's go baby girl," Katsuki muttered, and Sayuri could tell he was holding back his anger.

He was better at it now than she was apparently.

"They did what?!" Momo gasped, pushing her glasses up onto her head as she placed her book down. "And why, Shouto, are you just telling me now?"

"I didn't want you to stress about it. I've already talked to both of them," Shouto said calmly, pulling his shirt over his head.

"I see..." she sighed. "What is Yuuta thinking!? So close to the U.A exam and both him and Shouhei are causing problems?" She shook her head, running her hand down her face. "No wonder Arata told on them."

"I don't know..." Shouto said. "I get the feeling Yuuta doesn't care about the exam much. I think he's only doing it to stay with Shouhei."

"Eh?" Momo blinked. "Really? But Yuuta seems so much better about his quirk lately!"

Ever since he was a young boy, Yuuta struggled with his quirk. He made blue flames, similar to Shouto's, however, oddly enough, they were usually cold to the touch. He could adjust the temperature as he pleased, but that was something he had only come to work on for the past few years or so. For a bit, he struggled with being able to even control turning it on and off, but he'd come a long way since then.

"Yes... but I don't know if he actually wishes to do this."

Momo frowned. "Do you think he feels pressured because of us? I never wanted him to think he had to become a hero! Maybe I said something wrong to him and he felt he had to go to U.A?" She began to babble, like she normally did when she became stressed.

Leaning forward, Todoroki brushed his lips against hers. "Momo," he muttered, cupping her cheeks. "We can talk to Yuuta about it. I want to make sure he knows he can do whatever he pleases. More than anything I never wanted to sway my sons in a certain direction. If this is what they want, I want them to choose this," he said, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks.

"I know," Momo said, and pecked his lips back. "I love you... and I trust you. I know how open you've been with them about their life choices, I just... don't want them to feel any pressure."

"Me neither," he said. The last thing he wanted was to be anything like his own father, and he wanted his sons to feel happy.

"Why do you think he wants to follow Shouhei?" she asked softly. Her lithe fingers trailed up Shouto's arm, gently stroking his skin.

"I think... he might be in love with him. Whether or not he realizes it yet..."

Momo blushed. "Really? You think so!?"

"Mhm, I looked the same way when I was in denial about my feelings for you and someone called me out on them," he confessed.

Momo couldn't contain her laughter. "Oh Shouto. You're so cute." She pecked his lips once more. "Well... it would be certainly interesting if your son and Bakugou-kun's son dated."

"Mmm... yes..." Shouto muttered, a hint of competition in his tone. Being the number 3 hero, Shouto was frequently chasing after Midoriya and Bakugou. The three often rotated their spots depending on the month and various incidents they dealt with.

"It's alright. We'll talk to him and make sure he knows. I don't want him getting in trouble either," she sighed.

"I know. Hence why I didn't want to worry you."

"Mmm..." Momo hummed. "Still, it'll be good for us to sit down with both of them separately to discuss their future plans."

"I think so," Shouto nodded, wrapping his arm around her waist. When it came to his wife, he was always happy to be on the same page.

Ochako knocked on Sayuri's door, while she knew her daughter was trying to to focus on her work, she wanted to speak with her at least for a moment. She apparently hadn't wanted to see her father or her brother, so she ate quietly at the kitchen bar and retreated back to her room, claiming she had too much to study, or so Katsuki told Ochako when she arrived home. She knew there was a technology fair coming up and Sayuri was probably putting a hypothesis together for her and Kazu's potential entry.

Still, she knocked softly, feeling a bit guilty for disturbing her daughter.

"Come in," came her blunt voice.

"Hi sweetheart!" Ochako said, walking over to kiss the top of her head.

"You're home late," she said, not turning to face her mother as she typed furiously on the laptop in front of her.

"Mhm. There were a lot of reports I had to file on today's rescue. Your father told me what happened though. Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said, still typing. "I'm trying to get these ideas sorted right now."

"I know, I can see that. My little scientist lady," she giggled, but stopped when Sayuri still didn't turn to look.

Sometimes, her daughter was so sweet and excited. Her whole face vibrant and full of joy for the things her mind could create. She didn't have a quirk, but she was incredibly brilliant and a fantastic thinker.

And then there were times like this, when Ochako felt like she was talking to brick wall, a smaller version of Katsuki who regressed into his younger self.

"Sweetheart," she sighed, taking a seat on her bed. "I know you don't want to talk to me."

"Good, if you know, we can end this conversation now," she snapped, her fingers hitting the keys a little harder.

Ochako bit her lip. "Sayu-chan..."

"...Sorry Mom..." she mumbled and finally turned her brown eyes towards her mother. She played with the long pieces of blonde hair which rest on her shoulder. "I just... I dunno what you want me to say?"

"What happened?"

Sayuri rolled her eyes. "These two girls kicked me when I wasn't paying attention and... bruised my leg. I can walk and shit so whatever."

Ochako frowned. "I really wish we could convince you to switch schools."

"I have like... two more years there, I think I'll survive. I have Kazu-kun."

"I know you do, love... I just worry about these mean girls. I also worry about your father going to your school and murdering them," she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Sayuri snorted, giggling at that. "Yeah, he almost blew up the doctor's office today!" she laughed.

"Of course," Ochako said, smiling. "You're his baby girl."

"...I know... Look, Mom... there's nothing I can do about it."

"That's not true!" Ochako said. "When your leg is healed, me and you... we'll train some more, okay?"

"Alright," Sayuri shrugged, as if she thought it wouldn't matter much.

"I'll... leave you to it then."

"Thanks," she said, and bit her lip, turning to look at her. "I'm really okay Mom, okay?"

"I know, sweetie," Ochako nodded, slipping out of her room.

She made her way to her own room, where Katsuki lay in bed, facing the wall. "Katsuki..." Ochako whispered. She slipped her bathrobe off, sliding into bed with him as she pressed her face against his back. "She's hurting... but she won't talk to me..."

"I fucking know..." he growled. "Physically these shitty girls keep hurting her and she just... FUCK!" he yelled, slamming his fist against their bed. The whole thing shook with the two of them in it, and Ochako kissed the back of his neck, hoping to calm him down. "I fuckin' hate this. I hate feeling... useless to help her... I run around all day saving random extras while my own fucking daughter gets kicked to the ground by some stupid, middle school bitches!"

"I know..." Ochako whispered. "We're going to figure it out though, okay?" She trailed her fingers down his bare arm, the pads on her fingertips gently stroking the smooth skin which covered his thick muscles. "We're going to find a way to keep her safe and happy..."

Her hand trembled against his arm as she felt the tears slip down her cheeks. She just wanted her baby girl to be happy. Free from the judgmental eyes of the public and other awful children around her.

"Yeah, we are," Katsuki hissed, and covered her hand with his own, giving it a squeeze. She could tell he only wished they had a more immediate solution.

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #BNHA #todomomo #oc kids #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #uraraka ochako #kacchako has a quirkless daughter #they're in middle school now!#future au #what we lack

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a-copper-butterfly · 5 years

Text

Title Suggestions Needed!

OK so i posted this before but i have edited it a bit and added a new intro. im still not sure if i should continue this but what the hay, have a look and give us some feed back. :)

here is my re-write of good omens where the ineffable husbands raise Adam.

Monday, five days before the end of the world.

It was sunny, well, as sunny as it every was in the centre of London.

For those you don’t know, London is a vaguely potato shaped blob about ten miles across, with its own weather system which is almost entirely different to that of the rest of the UK.

Warlock was moping along his nose glued to his phone (not literally, thought Crowley sometimes wished he could get close enough with some glue without the little nuisance noticing.) Warlock had perfected the art of nearly completely ignoring the world around him, but remining just aware enough that he could complain at anyone who might distract him. His mother was walking along admiring the sculptures, pausing now and then to read an information sign. She did this much in the same manner as most people the world over when they want to look more intelligent than they are. They don’t actually read what is written on the information board, just frown and nod like you agree with what ever had been said then point to it and repeat a few lines when a friend or family member joins you. Thus, the whole cycle repeats itself.

A little way from the stroppy pre-teen, representatives of both heaven and hell discussed the fate of the world.

“I mean, he could just disappear,” suggested the Demon. He was slouched on the wooden bench. This was a master level slouch of someone who had trained for years to hold his body in such a position. A normal person if attempting this would pull a muscle if not worse.

The Angel that sat prim and proper next to him frowned,

“I don’t see how hiding him would help?” he said, which earned a glare form his companion. The thick sunglasses that covered the Demons yellow eyes obscure the fond irritation directed at the angel.

“I mean kill him Angel,” he clarified.

The Angel shuffles in his seat uncomfortable about this conversation. He tried to change the subject, but not too much avail.

“Are you going to get him a dog?” Azriaphale looks over at Crowley, know full well that he had been asked to provide the hound and that this was purely a diversion.

“I thought you were going to sort that out.” Crowley responded, rolling his concealed eyes.

“Why are we getting him a dog anyway.”

Crowley gave a side glances at his companion, silently noting the use of “we”.

Azriaphale wasn’t done with his grumbling, “Do remember the hamster?” he continued.

“Sir hamserlot? Yeah.” Crowley cringed at the memory of the tan and white little rodent. The poor thing when through so meant names it was a wonder it didn't have identity issues.

“How meant times did we have to pull that poor creature back from the jaws of death?” Aziraphale says shaking his head. The poor thing had eventual snuffed it permanently when the boy had gotten it into his head that hamsters could swim. They can, much like rats, but being put in a crudely made ship and pushed out on a duck pond in the middle of winter would be terminal for most rodents or any other small mammal.

A dog is a bit bigger. This was the only argument Crowley could come up with at the time.

“Well” Azriaphale relented “he is a bit older now.”

Crowley shuffled further into his slouch.

“It's the end if the world Angel.” He muttered gloomily, “Just give the kid what he wants. And he wants a dog.”

Aziraphale flinched at this painful truth.

“Well you have a point dear. Fine, he can have a dog.”

There was a pause as they watched Warlock ignore the world around him and play on his phone. The cartoonish sounds of games annoying the people around him. Crowley smirked; apps had been one of his ideas. Well, according to hell they were. Humans were always doing his job for him; he just took the credit when the higher ups asked about it. He sighs and slips back into the conversation about the end of the world.

“We’d better be there when the dog arrives” Crowley said darkly.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. I think he can look after himself and a dog for a few hours. He is old enough now, don’t you think?” Aziraphale smiles nodding in agreement with himself.

Crowley shot the angel a withering look.

“I meant the hellhound and Warlock, not some overly excited puppy with a bladder size of a spoon. This is going to a monster. The biggest they have got, according to downstairs.”

Aziraphale lip touched in a pout. “Oh” was all he said.

“I'm going as waiting staff don't want people recognizing me.” Crowley continued. “Can you bring him?”

“He said he doesn’t want to go. Said warlock isn't fun to hang out with anymore.” Aziraphale said, fumbling with a button on his sleeve cuff.

“Too bad. He is going to seeing a lot more of him whether he likes it or not. That is if there is anything after.” Crowley responded darkly. He still hadn’t figure how they were going to make it through the next few days.

A sudden though shot through Aziraphale mind.

“I could be the entertainment! I’ll brush up on my magic!” he said excitedly, beaming at the idea.

“Oh no, angel, please don’t. Really, it’s humiliating.” Crowley protested, “You can do miracles, why bother doing sleight of hand when you’re not good at it?” Aziraphale bounced in his seat. This was going to be fun.

One late august night just outside the small village of Tadfield,

When a snake regurgitates its food, its normally because it had been grabbed or handle soon after eating or is otherwise subjected to stress.

As Crowley knelt in damp grass on the bank beside the road, he wiped his mouth. The light from the Bentley’s open door revealing the grey sludge that was even now burning the grass. The small part of Crowley’s mind that wasn’t screaming in panic wondered when the last time he had eaten was. Without the help of the rest of his brain, he guessed around six years ago.

Pushing himself up onto wobbly legs, Crowley slid back into the driving seat, switched on the radio as he did so. As he pulled the car back onto the road, Crowley checked the rear-view mirror. The carry cot was still there. This was real.

“Shit, shit, shit, why me, why me?” he muttered to himself. The radio crackle,

“BECAUSE YOU EARNED IT CROWLEY” came the voice of Freddy Mercury.

“Fuck…” though Crowley.

Sister Annabelle Houghton was totally normal, much to the annoyances of her parents. They were traditional occultists who gave her supposedly cursed china dolls and pretty, frilly dresses in attempts to get her possessed. They had even moved at an old house which the nice estate agent had made very clear was the site of quite a few murders and ghost stories. It even had its own graveyard in the garden. Her swing was hung in an old knarred oak tree which legend had it was used as a hangman’s gibbet, but she never used it. When Annabelle eventually grew up, her parents had lamented and had sent her off to the Sisterhood of Chattering Nuns of St Beryl. Not too worried about this, Annabelle went along as she thought it might be interesting.

Now she sat looking out of one of the convent’s window keeping watch for the arrive of Master Crowley and the baby boy he carried with him. The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. She was very excited; this was a big day and she, Sister Annabelle, would be part of it. A cup of tea sat on the windowsill beside her. It had gone cold hours ago, No matter.

A car came screaming through the gates of the convert an excitement jolting up her spine. Sister Annabelle leapt from her seat and began to quickly click her way down the hall towards the foyer. She turned the corner expecting to see one of her sisters talking to Master Crowley but broke into a run when she saw which sister it was. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Sister Mary Loquacious, she was a lovely person when you were sat having a chat, it was just that things, important things, tended to go wrong when she was involved.

“Mother Superior! Mater Crowley is here!” she half-yelled, her fists full of her skirt as she leaped down the three little steps leading up to the corridor. Crowley quickly ducked behind a column in responses to the shouting. Shouting mostly lead to pitchforks, torches and a bad time for him.

“Greeting Master Crowley” she said, tried to smile and make her voice sound cheerful but her eyes were screaming at Sister Mary Loquacious. If she wasn’t holding The Anti-Christ, she may have shoved her out of harm’s way (harm’s way meaning any damage Sister Loquacious could cause to others, not the other way around). Sister Annabelle stopped next to her sister, peering at the bundle in her arms. The baby gurgled quietly. She quickly curtsied to Master Crowley who was still looking between the nuns wondering if he could slip out before anyone noticed.

The double doors leading to the hospital rooms flew open and a furious old nun stormed through. This was not part of the plan. She ran her icy gaze over the two nuns, who both know the consequences of that stare. Her eyes found Crowley who was trying not to look like a rabbit in the headlights, he was a demon after all. There was no escape now.

Long hair, sunglasses, modern suit, snakeskin shoes? Not what she though one of hell’s best demons would look like. She raised an eyebrow and forced a smile.

“Master Crowley, you’re just in time.” she walked slowly with an air of control. Crowley drew himself up to his full height. The Mother Superior had the eyes of a school master and they are well known for making even the naughtiest individuals squirm.

“Sister Annabelle, please go and retrieve the child of the ambassador and inform the other sisters that the switch will be taking places presently.” she smiled at the terrified nun who swallowed and nodded, turning to hurrying down the hall. Crowley tried to sidle towards the door. He stopped dead when the older nun eyes dropped on him. He tried to give her a confident smile.

“Master Crowley, if you would just pop over to the desk, we have a few papers for you to sign just to keep everything in order.” she turned and glided over to the foyer desk and began to draw papers out of a file. Crowley reluctantly followed her, dumping the now empty carry cot on the desk before propping himself up on it.

Sister Mary Loquacious frowned. She rocked the Anti-Christ in her arms. He was chewing on his hand. She had checked, it didn’t have claws. She looked up at Master Crowley and frowned again. She walked over to the desk,

“Umm Master Crowley?” she asked and terrifying yellow eyes looked at her over dark sunglasses. Something in the very pit of her soul screamed and told her to run. It was the same part that makes skulls scary, even though they are always smiling. She took a step back,

“Yeah?” he grunted. Mother Superiors levelled her glare at the Sister. She didn’t notice, now over the shock of yellow eyes she felt bolder,

“What is going to happen to the spare baby?” she asked. Crowley rolled his eyes to the Mother superior who was trying to set the younger nun on fire via sheer force of will. Without taking her eyes of her pray the Mother Superior said,

“Yes, that was something I was going to ask you as well Master Crowley. We are willing to go through with the switch, but we want nothing to do with disposing of the baby,” her eyes now turned on Crowley “We may be satanic Nuns, but we are not monsters.” Crowley paused at this juxtaposition. He huffed and turned back to the paperwork, one of hells better inventions,

“Put it in the carry cot, I will deal with it,” Crowley replied absentmindedly. “Sure, why not?” Crowley thought “Not like it will matter in a few years anyway”. Sister Mary Loquacious ginned the kind of grin that would suggest she didn’t quite understand what was going on.

“Sister Mary, please take The Young Lord down to Sister Annabelle.” Mother Superior said as she started pulling out more official looking papers. Crowley slouched at the prospect of more paperwork. Sister Mary Loquacious nodded happily and pushed through the double doors leading to the hospital rooms. Now that The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness was out of eyesight, Crowley felt a weight off his back. He no longer wanted to vomit.

Sister Mary Loquacious had found a potable cot for the anti-Christ, in which he now rested. his red blanket tucked around him. She pushed him down the hall spotting sister Annabelle pushing a similar cot out of room 4. Sister Mary paused outside room 3 ready to make the swap. A putrid smell began to waft up the hall. Both sisters gaged. A similar smell began to rise form the baby in the cot in front of Sister Mary and the babies began to cry in unison. Sister Annabelle reached Sister Mary, her face pushed into her shoulder and her eyes watering.

“I think our lord has made us an offering,” she gaged as she spoke, “and this little man has also given us a gift too”. She pushed open the door to delivery room 3 and hurriedly pushed the cot in. Sister Mary followed with her own charge.

“You change the babies and I will fetch the carry cot from Master Crowley.”. It was clearly just a excuse to getting out of having to be in same room as the stench for any longer but Sister Mary didn’t want to argue. The smell was truly awful.

In the bed, Mrs Young turned over a frown wrinkling her brow, some internal mothering instinct told her that a baby needed changing but something else told her it wasn’t hers so sleep on.

Sister Mary hesitated as she plucked the Anti-Christ from his cot and laid him on the changing table beside the door. She unwrapped the blanket and dropped it back in the cot. The baby whimpered as she removed the dirty nappy and cleaned him. She cooed at him. “Imagine little me changing the Destroyer of worlds’ nappy and powdering his little tush.” Sister Mary thought to herself. The baby in the other cot began to cry.

The mother in the bed yawned but stayed asleep. In an attempted sooth the baby, Sister Mary picked the ambassadors baby up. He was a chunky baby and quite heavy. Sister Mary had to shift him about a bit before they were both comfortable. The white blanket was lost in this juggling. As she bounced the baby the door to the room opened. Expecting sister Annabelle, Sister Mary turned to face the door where a man peering around the door.

“Err Hello. I’m the father, the husband, whatever.” He stammered, walking over to stand by his wife. Looking up he wondered over to the babies looking down at the baby on the changing table.

“Is this him?” he asked in awe. The baby looked up at him and immediately began to cry. Terrified about what he had done he scooped up the baby and began to pat his back.

“Umm no, these two not yours. Your baby is with your wife over there.” She nodded towards Mrs Young and the cot next to her.

Sister Mary was beginning to gag over the smell coming from the baby in her arms, she laid him on the changing table and began to clean him up.

After soothing the baby in his arms, Mr Young laid the baby down in the empty crib. He picked up the white blanket and tucked it around the baby. He walked over to the cot next to his wife and looked down at the baby. A small part of him was hopeful that he would look upon the face of his child and instantly recognized it as his own. But when he looked down at the sleeping baby, he looked identical to the two with the nun. This one was a little smaller but there wasn’t a moment of recognition. Of course, he didn’t say that. He smiled and looked back at the nun who was disposing of the nappy in a small bin next to the table.

“You know he looks like me.” He said proudly. The Nun smiled at him, rewrapping the baby,

“Have you thought of a name?” she asked. There was a nervous air about her. That probably came with having to look after two babies at once. He had new respect for people with twins and triplets.

They had discussed names but not come to any solid concoctions, they had a name if it had been a girl and after twitching the blanket back it couldn’t be used anymore. The baby snuffled in its sleep; Mr. Young jumped back afraid that he would make it cry like he had the other child.

“We haven though of any names for a boy,” he explained as the nun had finished changing the baby in front of her. Then, looking down at the second with a frown, she looked at the baby in her arms. After a moment hesitant, she seemed to come to a conclusion and plopped it in the second cot wrapping it in the red blanket.

“Well, what about the classic like Luke, John, Adam. Bible names and the like?” She rocked the babies in the cots. Mr. Young though about this for a second as he looked back at his son. He didn’t really look like any of those names, but they were good honest names. Suddenly a nun scuttled into the room. She looked a little out of breath. She looked at Mr. Young the way one would look at a velociraptor. She managed to school her features and smile at him.

Sister Annabelle had returned to the front desk and immediate run into Mr. Young who had asked what room his wife was in. Directing the man to the room without a though until she had picked up the carry cot. She had just sent an imposter into the same room as The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. Picking up her heels again, she took off down the hall and was now stood with Sister Mary, two babies and the carry cot. She turned her slightly manic smile on Sister Mary. She winked. Sister Mary Winked back. They smiled at each other.

“Baby removal services,” she laughed pushing the baby with the red blanket out of the room. She pointed at the carry cot next to the remaining baby and nodded down the hall. Sister Mary nodded back. She placed the carry cot on the changing surfaces and placed the remaining baby in the white blanket in it. Scooping up baby and carry cot she moved to leave the room,

“Umm,” said Mr. Young using the tone of someone who doesn’t want to be a bother but is no doubts going to be a problem.

“Is there any paperwork I need to fill in,” he asked nervously. Always ready to be helpful, Sister Mary nodded and beckoned for him to follow her. It wasn’t until they entered the hall that she realized this might have been a bad decision. She could see Master Crowley’s back to her when Mr. Young held the door open. Trying to think fast she walked up to him putting the now full carry cot next to him on the desk.

“Here is you son Master Crowley,” she said as way of explanation. The yellow eyes turned on her and the primal urge to run shot up her spine. Mr. Young was too distracted to notice, walking up next to her and leaned against the desk.

“Umm, does the birth certificate need signing?” he asked looking over the desk at all the papers. The Mother Superior who had been overseeing Crowley filling out all the correct papers in the right places. It wouldn’t do to have buggered up the paperwork on such a big job. She pulled a file over the papers and put on her best plastic smile. She flicked through the relevant files and produced a birth certificate for Mr. Young. She also pulled one out and handed it to Crowley. Conscious of the presents of Mr. Young, Crowley took the offered page. Mr. Young peeked into cot at the baby.

“He’s a cute one,” he says trying to rope Crowley into a conversation so he can talk about his own kid. Crowley doesn’t acknowledge him. Not deterred, Mr. Young filled in the birth certificate leaving the name till last. He still needed to talk to his wife about it.

“Though of a name yet?” he asked. Again, this was met by silenced. Mr. Young looked over at Crowley, he was well dressed and very out of places here. He didn’t have the look of expectant father. He looked worried.

“We were thinking about Adam,” he continued. This conversation was going to happen even if he had to do it himself. However, this got a reaction out of the other man. He laughed. He snorted then laughed out loud.

“Something wrong with Adam?” Mr. Young questioned, getting slightly defensive over a possible name for his son. The man pushed his long hair back away from his face. He was handsome, even Mr. Young had to admit that.

“No, it’s a fine name. But I knew an Adam once, he was a complete bastard,”.

Sister Mary giggled under her breath. But then frowned at the thought of how a demon knew the original Adam. She puzzled over this for the rest of the conversation.

Mr. Young let his shoulders drop,

“What would you suggest then?” he asked sheepishly. Crowley turned on him and Mr. Young had to squash a sudden urge to back away and make himself small. Crowley looks him up and down before speaking. His emotionless sunglasses making it feel like he wasn’t blinking. He wasn’t but behind the glasses no one could tell.

“Something royal may be. Henry, James, William?” he suggested. Mr. Young felt better about these names.

Crowley looked back at the almost complete page in front of him.

“It doesn’t matter, it will all be over in eleven years anyway.” Crowley mumbled glumly as he looked at the last section of the certificate

FIRST NAME:

It was blank. He stared at it. Did he have to name it?

“Oh,” Mr. Young said confused. In an effort to change the typic he looked into the cot again, “You know, he looks like an Adam.” he added.

Crowley huffed but he couldn’t think of anything better. Plus, it made sense in an ironic way. Crowley scribbled the name down on the final dotted line on the page pushing it towards the nun. He snatched the carry cot of the desk and strode out the lobby. Mr. Young tried to wave goodbye, but Crowley was long gone.

Sister Annabelle handed the baby to the ambassador’s wife who looked down at him with the love of a first-time mother,

“Sorry that took so long Your Ladyship, he is such a scrumptious little man. Every nun in the convent had to coo at him,” Sister Annabelle sighed as she stood back, her job was done. She really needs a cup of tea now.

Mother Superior quietly pushed open the door and came in.

“Oh what a little lord,” she said causing all nuns in the room to smile. “Have you thought of a name?”

The convent burnt down that night. However, the only paperwork that was destroyed was form that night. Apart from the birth certificate of one James Henry Young

Crowley pulled the Bentley into a short dead-end road that was the entrances to a farmer’s field. He cut the engine and the lights of the snarling beast of a car disappeared, leaving only the dark hedgerow in front of him.

The silence enveloped the car, seeming to seep in through all the gaps in the doors and poured out of the vents. Soon Crowley was engulfed in it. He paused, appreciating the moment. The sound of the engine cooling was the only noise that could be heard inside the car. The carry cot next to him cooed. He looked over at his new acquisition and pulled it closer to him. He carefully pulled the small and oh so delicate baby out and laid him across his knees looking up at him. The baby yawned but seemed very much awake. The white blanket that was bundled around him stopping his arms from moving.

Crowley huffed and rubbed his faces pushing his glasses off slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to mutter at the baby,

“Okay first test,”

He pulled his glasses off completely and crouched over the baby sticking his tough out. Letting the glamor over it drop so the tips flicked over the babies scrunched up little nose. His eyes almost glowed yellow in the darkness he didn’t show his true, true form just these small parts. The Baby screeched and Crowley jerked back worried, but unsurprised, that he had terrified the poor thing. When the screech turned into a gurgling laugh, he looked back at the baby who had wiggled free an arm and was grabbing at Crowley with a gummy grin. Slight confused Crowley rewrapped the baby in his white blanket and shifted it to be cradled in his arms,

“Okay so you passed the first test. Now we need to go other some ground rules if this arrangement is going to work out.”.

The baby babbled at him trying to wiggle free of his confines. He seemed fine with the whole yellow eyes and snake toung though. Probably knew no different, Crowley wondered leaning back in the driver’s seat.

“So I will house you, feed you and take care of you until you have worked out how to use a toilet after that we can look into the walking, talking, reading, writing business but there are some conditions that you have to uphold,”.

The baby sneezed, looked shocked at this strange turn of events, blinked a few times before looking back up at the demon. Now that he had the baby’s attention again Crowley continued,

“Firstly, the family you came from, the one that has the antichrist.” The baby watched him with uncanny eyes that seemed to understand what he was saying. That or more worryingly for Crowley he was ranting at a newborn infant that had no idea what was going on and was just watching him make noises in the dark car.

“Warlock, they called him Warlock.”

The baby gave him a half smile, hoping that the smile was from recognizing the name.

“You’re gonna have to be friends with that brat. secondly you will not get in my way or interfere with my work.”

The baby yawned at him. It seemed that all the excitement was getting the better of him its eyes began to slip closed. Crowley rocked him slightly trying not to enjoy holding the child, a small part of him that was thought to be long dead, started to thaw. He placed the baby back in the carry cot in the passenger’s seat. The baby whimpered at the movement but settled back in the crib snuggling into the blanket.

Crowley backed out and onto the road, where was the nearest mother care?

Azriaphale had just got back to the book shop when the phone rang. He paused hanging his coat up on its peg, before picking it up, he suspected who it might be but wasn’t sure. He plucked the phone from the handle and held it daintily to his ear,

“I’m dreadfully sorry but I’m afraid we are closed at the...,” his polite but discouraging scripted was cut by a very familiar voice,

“It’s me Angel.”

It sounded although Crowley was making this call from a phone box. Oh dear, what trouble had he gotten himself into now.

“Crowley? Is that you?” he asked anyway knowing the answer,

“Yes. We need to talk.” He said matter of factly.

“Yes, I rather think we do.” Azriaphale thought of the conversation he had had with Gabriel earlier that day.

Crowley looked through the window of the Bentley at the sleeping baby inside. He hung up the phone and got back into the car. He looked over at the child. He was so small. Crowley stroked his cheek with a black nailed finger.

“You have no idea what is going on. I envy you Adam,” the baby sighed in his sleep.

#good omens #good omens fic #Ineffable Husbands #crowley x aziraphale #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens #adam young good omens #fanfic

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anisotropy-kotetsu · 5 years

Text

Profile Template created by Zweenii Toshiro Kotetsu owned by @anisotropy-kotetsu | NocturnalButterflies BnHA Universe created and owned by Kohei Hirokoshi

-- (小鉄敏朗) --

Currently: Kotetsu Toshiro 敏朗 - Toshiro (Agile, bright) 小鉄 - Kotetsu (Small iron)

~~ Basic Information ~~

Nickname: Toshi, Shi, Shiro, Ko

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Height: 172 cm (5'7")

Birthday: May 19

Alias: Anisotropy

Relationship: Single.

Living Condition: U.A. High School Heights Alliance, Class 1-A

Goal: Kotetsu would like to be hero, to help save and protect people. He wishes to be a rescue hero, extending his hand out to these in need and pulling them out of the danger they are in.

~~ Appearance ~~

X ~ X ~ X ~ X ~ X

Hair Style: "Fluffy", short

Hair Color: Silver/Grey

Eye Color: Neon Yellow

Clothing: - U.A. Uniform - Hero outfit (Kotetsu's hero outfit is a skin tight long sleeved top, gallium shoulder long "gloves", baggy long khaki pants, work metal bottom boots, and he slicks his hair back and puts yellow shades over his eyes so the brightness of his metal is toned down. Right now, in private and secret he is working on getting himself to float by using his metal manipulation on his shoes) - Casual is usually sport shorts paired with large tee-shirts, or slim fit tank tops, and he wears a pair of slip on flats (like VANS) - Formal he usually wears a nice shirt and dress pants, but that is mainly it - Sleepwear he prefers boxer shorts and either a tank top or no shirt

~~ Personality ~~

Toshiro is a very caring and kind boy, but he is often very withdrawn and shy (this will be explained why in his backstory) despite preferring to spend his time around others. To those he is close to, he seems to loosen up and show his true colors, he is playful, goofy, and can be quite the pain if you let him get to you. Due to his history, he would prefer becoming depressed and upset with situations rather than facing them with anger. He has a large amount of pent up anger in him, and when he lets himself get angry he finds he often loses control over himself and reason. He'll do everything in his power to help others and is very quick to place himself in danger for their sake. He has a viciously low opinion on himself, he often doesn't talk about himself or his qualities as he believes he had no good qualities. He is simply a complex boy with an array of emotions he isn't sure how to handle.

~~ Back Story ~~

Toshiro was born female, his dead name being Toshiko. As a young kid, he never felt quite right, he found himself upset with gender norms since he preferred most norms expected of young boys. His parents took note of how odd he seemed, even how he seemed to get along better with the boys than girls his age but still forced him to follow the expectations of young girls. When he was seven, his parents had their second child, his little sister, Hinako. Toshiro loved and will always love his little sister. He took very good care of her, to the point his parents almost pushed all their responsibilities on him to raise his younger sibling, using the excuse that they do everything around the house and he needs to participate. Other than the underlying feeling that he was out of place in even his own body, Toshiro's life was typical. By the age of 11, puberty began with his first period. As his hormones and body began to develop, Toshiro found the feeling of not being right in his own body grow more intense. He started to be unable to look at himself in the mirror, disgusted by what he saw. Finally, at 12 years old, he cut his hair, binded his chest and came out to his family as Transgender. The next year of his life would be quite the emotional struggle. Fighting everyday, his parents forcefully medicating him, there is plenty that has left him an emotional mess of conflicts and demons he refuses to face. His parents kicked him out after a year of fighting and he was sent to live with his Aunt, Hanea, in Musutafu. With many experiences and his own internal dilemma, Toshiro decided he would choose the path of a hero to fight back and prove no one could hold him down, he would stop those who thought they could scare society into living a terrible life. He wanted to save others, subconsciously hoping he would one day be able to save himself. His second to last year of middle school he began hormone therapy and transitioning with the aid and support of his aunt. He applied and passed exams to earn himself a spot in class 1-B of the Hero Course of U.A. High School. Toshiro happened to pass his midterm with flying colors, having shown the most growth since the beginning of first semester. When Mineta Minoru was expelled for disorderly conduct (inappropriate actions), Toshiro was offered the opportunity to transfer into class 1-A. His story begins with moving into class 1-A's dorm at the beginning of second semester. In class, due to his past experience of his loved ones abandoning him when ge told them he was transgender, Toshiro would sit quietly and avoid interaction due to a debilitating fear his classmates would find out he was transgender and begin to turn against him, too.

~~ Quirk ~~

Magnetism - Toshiro inherited both of his parents' quirk, the odd fusion making a combination that would be general magnetism. His father's quirk was Electromagnetism, the ability of producing electromagnetic waves from the central nervous system, thus creating a field around the individual. His mother's quirk was the ability to change the physical properties of metals (physical properties being: state of mater, magnetism, texture, and destiny). Toshiro uses his mother's quirk to make metals less or more magnetic in his electromagnetic field, attracting or repelling the metals away from him. The downfall to his quirk is if he forces too much voltage through his nervous system, he could end up frying his brain and lead to himself going brain dead from extensive damage. He will begin to bleed from many orifices on his head as a warning that he is pushing his body to far.

~~ Stats ~~

Attack: 6/10

Defense: 5/10

Speed: 7/10

Stamina: 6/10

Intelligence: 6/10 Overall: 30/50

~~ Strengths ~~

- Determination - Kindness - Caring - Martial arts - Acrobatics - Cooking - Impromptu ideas

~~ Weaknesses ~~

- Self destructive personality - Low self confidence - Anxiety - Depression - Defense - Half thought out plans of actions - Metals over a certain weight - Metals out of his magnetic field's reach

~~ Equipment ~~

- 20 gallons of Gallium in a liquid state (166 lbs) - Mask with eye protection and filter - Suit similar to design of Endeavor's, Toshiro's having small troughs for his gallium to coat his person

~~Extra Information~~

- His favorite drink is an Iced Matcha Latte - His favorite sweet is s'more brownies - His favorite dish is saba shioyaki (grilled mackerel) - He listens to Metal (unironically) - First semester he had a puppy love crush on Todoroki Shouto, and he still has one even as he is now in class 1-A with Shouto - He is afraid of snakes - He can interpret and sign JSL - The only feature he is confident about our his eyes - Due to growing up hating his own body, Toshiro finds men much more attractive than woman due to his self consciousness of the remaining womanly features he still has. And thus, he considers himself homosexual - He is allergic to lilies - Due to his quirk, Toshiro steadily developed chronic iron deficiency anemia. It's why his complexion is so sickly pale and you'll find his skin often chilly to touch. He is on iron supplements, but every now and then you'll witness a dizzy spell because he often forgets to take his supplements - Toshiro naturally loves to care for others, but the second there is puke, he is GONE - ENFP-T

#ᒥ🗲ᒧ— 𝕠𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕒 𝕜𝕚𝕓𝕦𝕟 (musings)#ᒥ🗲ᒧ— 𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕪𝕠 𝕘𝕖𝕜𝕚 (ooc)

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oftitcnium-blog · 5 years

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→ elizabeth gillies, 25, cisfemale, bio → looks like MORGAN HOWARD STARK is here. civilians know her as GOLDEN GIRL ( FORMER ) / MORGAN and think she’s a ( FORMER ) HERO / CIVILIAN. she’s supposedly POWERED and has the powers of LATENT EXTREMIS VIRUS & GENIUS-LEVEL INTELLECT. some people say she's IRON MAN & RESCUE’S legacy. but i mean with the whole COFFEE-INDUCED ALL-NIGHTERS , SNARKY COMEBACKS , WINGED EYELINER thing , she kind of seems like more of her own person. → LARA, SHE / HER , 23 , AST.

g o l d , G O L D , g o l d. bright & y e l l o w. HARD & cold. molten , graven , h a m m e r e d , rolled. H A R D to get & l i g h t to hold. s t o l e n , borrowed , squandered , doled.

name: morgan howard STARK. aka: golden girl , morguna , howie , squirt , honorary avenger , midas , professional extorcionist , world’s smallest lawyer , stark industries’ smallest intern. age: 25. date of birth: january 3rd , 2003. hometown: new york city , new york. parents: tony stark & pepper potts.

current location: MANHATTAN , ny. status: POWERED ( latent ).

I. BABY’S FIRST WORDS ARE “ I’M NOT HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS ”

morgan h. stark is the first born of tony stark & pepper potts. she’s named after pepper’s cousin and tony’s father. her middle name is unconventional , but she loves it.

she’s born on january 3rd , which makes her a capricorn.

growing up around the avengers , she considers every single member ( and their kids ) her family. undeniably a stark , she’s not the best at expressing her feelings , but she adores them. she would do anything for them.

she spends her time between her dad’s workshop and her mother’s office. she learns everything she could from both of them , understanding from a young age that she’d one day have to carry their legacy - she is their legacy.

high school is mostly uneventful. it’s boring , not challenging the young genius nearly enough. she’s restless , yearning for something bigger. she gets in trouble for being a smartass and talking back to her teachers. she often corrects them if she notices them make the smallest mistake. she's oppositional. defiant. confrontational. argumentative.

she believes she’s smarter than everyone around her ( which is hard to argue against , because she kind of is ). she’s competitive, knowing she’ll always win. when she doesn’t , she’s a very sore loser. she can argue her way out of a paper bag , even as a kid. she hates losing and being wrong , and in her eyes , she never is.

II. “ excuse me. i am dangerous. i am bisexual. i have depression. i’m NEW in town.”

she turns 16 and along with the keys to a brand new car ( an audi r8 , vegas yellow ) she gets her very first iron man suit. she’s not exactly surprised - everyone she knows has one , she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. it’s gold , with rose gold details. she takes on the mantle of GOLDEN GIRL.

she joins her dad on missions , like his little sidekick. he’s installed any and all protective measures he can thing of - anything to keep the golden child safe.

unlike her dad , she keeps her identity a secret. people have their suspicions , of course, but morgan never confirms them.

later that year , she graduates high school and gets into mit - dad’s alma mater. double majors in mechanical engineering and political science.

even though she’s living in boston , she’s still golden girl. she flies back and forth between boston and new york ; collegiate by day , teenaged sidekick by night.

the pressure starts to get to her - she’s always had a need to prove that she’s smarter than everyone around her , and usually , that’s true , but at mit , the competition’s a lot fiercer. she feels the weight of the stark legacy getting to her. as time goes by , she picks up the golden girl suit less and less , opting to put on a dress and go out to a party instead of putting on the suit and fighting crime.

mit’s hard , but the parties are even harder. morgan lets loose , ignoring every warning her father ever gave her about substance abuse. she sees all the red flags and dismisses them. she drinks recklessly , and the rest of her undergrad years fly by in a drunken haze.

III. WITTY , self - deprecating , sometimes UPROARIOUSLY funny and sometimes unbearably SAD.

she graduates at 19. at this point , she still dons the golden girl suit from time to time , but it’s more for fun than out of a sense of responsibility. she’s become so accustomed to having a suit , that she’s forgotten about the responsibility that comes along with it. she sees it as more of a birth right - everyone around her has a suit , so it’s no big deal.

she pursues a business degree at nyu. she moves back home and brings the party with her. they’re not as heavy here , but still oh , so fun.

she turns 20 and decides to have a big blowout. she invites all her new york friends , as well as some of her pals from mit. everyone , basically.

they’re having the time of their lives when morgan , driven by an excessive amount of liquid courage , confesses to her friends that in her younger years , she was known as golden girl. in an attempt to prove this , she decides to dust off the old suit and model it around.

it starts off as a fun little party trick. soon enough , she hears something through the system - there’s a robbery going down just a few blocks away. it’s perfect - just another opportunity to show off. she excuses herself - “ this’ll only take a moment ” - and flies away.

morgan , however , bites off way more than she could chew. she arrives at the scene of the crime to find that it’s much more than a simple robbery , some petty criminal trying to steal some cash. she grossly miscalculated the gravity of the situation. it’s not long before she’s knocked out and held hostage on some roof in new york city.

the avengers come to the rescue , in what has now become morgan stark’s worst nightmare. the last thing she ever wanted was for her dad to see her in this state.

it only gets worse from there, because her suit is drained out of all its power and she’s thrown off the roof. she’s convinced she’s falling to her death , but is almost disappointed to wake up in the hospital , having broken more bones than she could count.

IV. “ instead of learning from my MISTAKES , i like to DWELL on them until i have a panic attack.”

it takes a long time for her to recover. she finishes the semester from home , and needs a lot of physical therapy in order to walk normally again. it still hurts a little bit , but stark technology certainly helped speed up the process.

if she was abusing alcohol before , at this point she’s completely dependent. wanting to forget ( or at least ignore ) , all the mistakes that got her to this , she drowns herself in whiskey , or anything else she can find.

she doesn’t go back to nyu until her very last semester. she’s given up on her dreams of following in her parents’ footsteps — she knows she’s too much of a disappointment. golden girl is abandoned back in stark tower , collecting dust.

her parents’ legacy now unattainable , morgan looks to create her own path. after graduation , she turns to law school. she’s heard all the anti-mutant and anti-powered rhetoric all around , fueled by fear of some mysterious disease. it sparks something in her , so she decides to become a mutant rights lawyer.

not long after passing the bar exam , they’re all trapped in new york. and here we are now.

[ this got way longer than i intended it to but !! come plot with my girl !! feel free to like this , or message me here or @i love tony stark#4945 on discord !! ]

#leg:intro

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