#mm said it best gawd i love him

[kalinawtokilig]

When you can’t reach your parent(s’) expectations

Have you ever still feel not good enough to those who expect greatness and extraordinary accomplishments from you? It hurts the most when it’s your parents. 

But don’t worry, they’re here to help you up

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Pair(s) : Akaashi Keiji x Reader, Sugawara Koushi x Reader, Oikawa Tooru x Reader

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Akaashi Keiji x Reader 

When he sees you at his front door in the pouring rain, he ushers you to come in

He lets you borrow his clothes as he uses a towel to dry your hair

Akaashi would lecture you on why you shouldn’t walk in the rain without an umbrella, since you can get sick and then your parent will get mad at you

Having said that, you sighed deeply

Raising a brow, he thought of you to be tired from walking to your home to his house

“Want to watch that anime that you were telling me about?” 

You look away and shook your head 

“Mm, do you want to eat?”

You shake your head again

“What do you want to do then, hon?” 

You look up to him. Akaashi is so patient with you, and he knows when you’re at your best and he recognizes your hardworking posture and daze when all of those all nighters of studying and on the bridge of nervous breakdowns were so worth it that he congratulates you for everything you accomplished for

Why can’t your parent do the same?

Your boyfriend stares back you, worried creeping up as your brows furrowed and eyes became glossy 

He lays a hand on your cheek, palm soft and caring, warmth on your cold cheek envelopes when he cups it gently

“Do you want to stay on my bed and sleep?”

Yes. You need sleep. You desperately need it. 

On his bed, he pulls the covers up, making sure not a trace of your limbs or skin is exposed (Not like its ever cold in Akaashi’s house,, I feel like its naturally warm in all ways, ya know?) 

He lays on his side, one arm open, welcoming for you to cuddle him if you want 

Shuffling closer, you lay your forehead on his chest, and he hugs you as lovingly as he can 

“I’m proud of you, you know that right?” 

((Stop,, making myself FEEL EW)) 

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

((Gawd,,, I fuckin pimp the SHIT OUTTA HIM MAH DUDE-))

When Sugawara’s at your place, in your room, he came from practice and was sleeping in your bed ((After he took a shower, mans brought his own clothes,, what a RESPONSIBLE MANN UGHHH)) 

While you were having an argument downstairs with your parent about how you’re not putting enough effort in your studies and putting other priorities above that, you bit your tongue from snapping as they continued on about how ‘You can do better’ or ‘You need to try harder’ and ‘I don’t want you to be a failure’

Lowering your head and nodding blankly at every sentence your parent says, they finish by saying go upstairs and study

“Become great, so I’ll be able to tell my friends how extraordinary you are.” 

Up in your room, you keep re-reading and writing down important key facts into your notebook

‘Do good, be better, become greater’ 

‘Why can’t they see all that I’m doing is for them? Is what I’m doing never enough? When can I ever stop try to appease them? When will I ever try to be enough for myself?’

“Am I not important to even be seen as good enough?” You whispered.

Biting your lip, you gritted your teeth and held onto your pen as tight as you can, trying not to even sniffle to disturb your ever so tired boyfie ((Wake him up,, he’s there and he’s with you whenever babes >:((( Suga-love is always there for you )) 

Sugawara had been awake, he had been awake since he heard your parent yel- raising their voice at you. Turning to look at you and your trembling shoulders, he held what you said that was supposed to be for your ears only, echo a pain in his chest. Seeing you beat yourself up to reach someone’s standards hurts him, and witnessing you not even shed a tear for yourself hurt him even more

Shaking your head, you rubbed your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater and continued to jot down anything that seemed to be of importance

“Sugar?” 

You jump a bit, not looking back you answered, “Yes, Koushi? Do you need anything?” 

“Are you okay?”

You nod silently as your eyes kept trained on the textbook in front of you 

Hearing some quiet shuffling, you froze a bit when you felt Sugawara’s arms hug your waist and his head laying on the crook of your shoulder

“I think you’re pretty great. Even when you don’t feel so, I hope you know that you’re important to me and you can never let me down. I love you, don’t you know that (Y/N)?” 

((IM FUCKING VOMITING OMG I WANT HIMMMMMM ARHGABORBGYAOURGVAORY)) 

Oikawa Tooru x Reader 

((Ah yes, another I want to pe-))

He knows, the feeling of not being enough and working hard to achieve your own expectations and everyone else’s

He knows the worth and hardwork to prove that you can be good enough

You were and are always there when he overworks himself and self-doubts and self-loathing hit hard for him

despite everything, you helped him set up a schedule and helped him time manage his busy schedule, so he’ll be able to feel accomplished of what he did and able to rest even if its for a little bit, then getting great power naps for in-between the days that he decides to push himself harder than usual

Iwaizumi has never been so thankful for your existence and genius mind ((Oh wow, even got my bb praising you huh))

When Oikawa sees you pushing yourself harder than usual, training and trying to balance your studies

He notices that he doesn’t see you often, nor does your friends either

Oikawa-boo now knows the struggle of HIMSELF

Is this what you and Iwa-chan go through? Endless worrying and less cuddles ?? (As if Iwa cuddles him,,, Oikawa has proof, so do Makki and Mattsun)) 

When he finally catches up to you, you look at him, slightly pale and shaking a bit from how much coffee and energy drinks you’ve consumed

“Babe, I haven’t been seeing you for a while, are you doing okay?” 

You were immensely drained, even talking had been an effort, but Oikawa was your beloved boyfie

“Mhm.” 

Oikawa frowns. “Have you been getting enough rest?”

“Mhm.”

“Did you eat lunch? Your friends say they haven’t seen you at their table.”

“Mm-mm.” 

He cups your cheeks, brow furrowed and brown eyes filled with concern, “My lil-cutie, what’s going on?” He asked in the softest voice he can possibly muster. ((Possibly? Pretty setter squads are fuckin SMOOTH bitches to have soft voices. Yes, including Shirabu AND Kageyama. And Koganegawa. My HC, can’t change my mind, I take criticism but only if I'm ready to haunt you at 3AM))

“Mmm. Have to prove to my parents that I can be better.  I need to show them that I can be something they can be proud of. I don’t wanna be a disappointment.” Your voice shakes a bit, it could be from the caffeine or the emotions building up when Oikawa asked you so sincerely if you were okay.

“Don’t wanna be an embarrassment either. You don’t deserve that. Wanna be a winner.” You muttered, looking away in shame and guilt that has been haunting you. 

Pulling you into a hug, he laid his hand on your head and the other arm laid across your waist. “Listen to me. You think you can be better if you work yourself to death, that you forget about yourself and focus on reaching other people’s standards. Babe, if anything, you can prove them wrong when you are confident to tell them that what happened before and what’s happening now means that you’ve improved on yourself and your actions will speak for themselves. You can’t prove to them if you decided to forget to care for yourself and those who want to support you.”

Your tension in your body relaxed. He didn’t have practice today, or you would’ve smelled the excessive amount of cologne radiating of his body. Relaxing, your shaking minimized when you petted your hair and hugged you closer. 

“You can never be an embarrassment to me, (Y/N). When you’re working so hard to care so much for others, that’s never an embarrassment. You’ll go so far I don’t know if I’m able to catch up to you.” 

You weakly squeezed his side. 

He chuckles. “We’ll always be winners, (Y/N). I mean, you won my heart, and that’s the greatest feat, yeah?” 

You slapped his butt and he whined like a little bitch.

#akaashi keji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #sugawara x you #oikawa tooru x you

[breanime]

13. “Look, I know you’re a hardass, but can you play with my hair? It would really help.” & 118. “I know I can be pretty dense, but you’re giving me some…pretty big signals here, and I don’t know if I’m reading them right but…I hope I’m somewhere along the right track.”  & 65. “I didn’t tell you that I love you because I wanted to hear it back. I told you because I needed you to know.”  for Billy Russo

This is my last Billy Russo request/Ben Barnes’ character request and it... it kind of got away from me, haha. I hope you like it!

Billy had been more pissed than you’d ever seen him. When you’d first gotten to his place, he’d punched a hole in the wall. He’d calmed down a bit, making the necessary phone calls, and making sure you were okay, but you could feel the rage coming off of him.

You should have known he’d be like this when you came to him with a bloody lip.

You’d been robbed at knife point earlier on your way to meet up with friends, and you’d gone straight to Billy afterwards. The man who robbed you had hit you a few times, but once you’d thrown your purse, he’d taken your things and ran. Billy had called his guys and the cops, who took your statement, and now you were in Billy’s bed, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and dressed in one of his Anvil shirts.

Billy was pacing around the room, eyes hard. You knew he wanted to do something, to go out and find the man who hurt you, but there was nothing he could do.

“Hey Billy,” your voice was a little hoarse from crying so hard earlier, “Look, I know you’re a hardass, but can you play with my hair? It would really help.”

Billy stopped and looked at you, frowning. “Yeah,” he nodded, climbing into bed with you, “No problem.” He wrapped you up in his arms and put his fingers in your hair. You both relaxed immediately; you and Billy had been friends for years—since the Group Home—and while you had always had feelings for him, you weren’t sure what Billy felt for you—if anything.

You sighed, closing your eyes. This is where you wanted to be, always. There was no place safer or more secure than Billy’s arms. Carefully, as if you were made of glass, Billy ran his other hand up and down your back. “Is this okay?” He asked.

You nodded, eyes still closed. “Actually, can you…” You swallowed, feeling uncharacteristically bold from the leftover adrenaline. “Can you rub my back without all of this?” You scooted up, letting the blanket fall. “Like… skin on skin?”

Billy’s eyes widened, but he didn’t seem scandalized or offended just… surprised. He recovered quickly, though. “Like this?” His hand slid underneath your shirt, rubbing your back. You weren’t wearing a bra or anything else under it, and Billy’s hand was warm and firm on your naked skin.

“Mm hmm,” you rested your hand on his chest, “just like that. That’s perfect.”

Billy hummed, one hand in your hair and the other on your back. You could feel him relaxing more and more with each caress, and you snuggled even closer to him. When you opened your eyes to look at him, he was staring down at you, a soft smile on his face. It had been years since you’d seen Billy look like that—so open and unguarded, and you felt your heart soar at the sight of him. God, you loved him. And even if he kept up his bachelor lifestyle for the rest of his life, you would be okay with that—as long as you could still be his friend. As long as, every once and a while, he’d hold you like this.

“Thank you, Billy,” you said, smiling up at him, “for taking care of me and everything…” In another move of boldness, you reached out and kissed his cheek—something you hadn’t done since the first time he’d been shipped overseas. Except this time, you didn’t stop there. Giggling, you kissed his other cheek, and you felt him smile. Pulling back a bit, you kissed his nose next, making him laugh. “You’re the best,” you praised him.

“Mm…” Billy took his hand out of your hair and put it on the side of your face, and you leaned into his touch, curling around him happily. “I think you’re having an adrenaline crash, sweetheart.”

“No, I’m not,” you said, closing your eyes as you laid on his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, his other hand still rubbing your back. “I’m just comfortable.”

“Yeah?” Billy took a breath, and you felt his heart racing underneath you. “So…I know I can be pretty dense,” he said, and you opened your eyes to look at him, “but you’re giving me some…pretty big signals here, and I don’t know if I’m reading them right but…I hope I’m somewhere along the right track.” Slowly, he leaned down, giving you every opportunity to stop him—which, of course, you didn’t—until his lips were only inches away from yours. “…I feel like I’m on the right track.” And with that, he pressed his mouth against yours.

You sighed into the kiss, body sagging comfortably against Billy’s as you laid in his bed, in his clothes, in his arms. You and Billy had always been friends, you’d flirted throughout your friendship, cuddled at times, but this… You’d dreamt of kissing Billy, but you never thought you’d be able to. His lips on yours was so much better than you’d imagined, soft and firm and perfect—you wondered if you had been made for this, for him, because kissing Billy was better than anything else you had experienced in your life at this point. You rolled your hips against Billy, and he groaned. He moved so that he was on top of you, his solid body pressing you down into the mattress. One of his hands was on your waist now, and the other was still on your face, tilting your head so that he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You could feel him growing hard on top of you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him to be even closer.

Feeling your desire, and fueled by his own, Billy dropped his head to press hot kisses to your neck, and you gasped at the feeling. You opened your eyes and looked down at the sight in front of you: Billy Russo, your Billy, was on top of you, kissing you, holding you—in real life. This wasn’t another dream or lazy fantasy—this was really happening. Billy sensed your gaze and looked up at you, his eyes almost black with emotion. He grinned at you, and you felt your heart jump.

“I love you,” you breathed out.

His smile fell.

Mentally cursing yourself, you pushed Billy off of you and jumped out of the bed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to your chest. Billy sat up, watching you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, burying your chin in the pillow, “that was—I didn’t—I shouldn’t have—”

“—Did you mean it?” He asked, eyes unblinking.

You closed your eyes and nodded, burying your face in the pillow. You heard the shuffling of blankets, and then felt Billy’s hands on your shoulders. He was standing over you when you opened your eyes.

“I love you, too,” he said, his voice low.

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. You knew normally you wouldn’t have been so rash or emotional, but you’d had a rough day, and then Billy had been so soft with you, and hold you and… It hadn’t really hit you until now how much you wanted to be with him, and how impossible that was.  “No,” you whimpered, eyes closed again, trying to keep your tears at bay, “No, you don’t. I… I didn’t tell you that I love you because I wanted to hear it back. I told you because I needed you to know… and cause I’m stupid.”

Billy laughed, and you opened your eyes to look at him. “You’re not stupid,” he said, moving his hands to put on either side of your face, “Hey, look at me. You’re not stupid. You’re smart, and beautiful, and funny—and brave. And I love you,” he watched your watery eyes widen, and he nodded as he spoke on, “You just took me by surprise, but… I love you, and I think I’ve loved you for a long time. And now,” he took a breath, “if that’s okay with you, I’m gonna kiss you again. That okay?”

You nodded, a wide grin breaking out on your face. “Yes.”

Billy kissed you, his mouth warm and welcome on yours. You let him take the pillow out of your hands and lead you back to the bed. He laid you down, pressing kisses to your lips and face, caressing and holding you, until you were basically just a puddle of warmth and happiness in his arms. You don’t know when you started to fall asleep, but the next thing you knew, you were resting your head on Billy’s chest as he rubbed your back again, kissing your temple as your eyelids fluttered closed.

“I knew I was reading those signals right,” Billy murmured happily into your hair, “…even if it did take me a couple of years to figure it out…”

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

Thanks for reading! GAWD, I love soft, comforting Billy!

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#Billy Russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo #200 prompts drabble

[justkeeptrekkin]

The Library Is Open- a drag queen AU

This is a little present for my boo @ladycakepops​, with whom i have discussed 100000 Drag Race headcannons!! Luv u m8. 

000

“Girl, you know she’s been using that same wig all week, yo, there’s flies comin’ outta that shit it’s so stanky.” “Oh no, here she comes, Miss Thing, lookin’ like she think she about to slay the runway but she left her fashion sense at home next to her ratchet-ass 100 Yen fake-lash kit. Oh no, sweetie.”

“And- oh, ladies and gentlemen boys and girls, you know the house gonna come down when Miss Kamui Woods strut on stage acting like she own the damn place, bitch looks like Groot, motherfucker.”

Club Hero erupts into joyous applause and roof raising laughter. It may be dark, the audiences’ faces obscured by the low lights, but Hizashi knows that they’re all smiling. Present Mic knows how to work a crowd. He can always count on his drag persona to keep the customers coming back with her witty one liners.

“And here she is- it’s Best Jeanist, girl, you know what I’m boutta say. Denim? Again? Where’s the variety? That doesn’t mean she don’t look good, though- whew, that waist is cinched to the gods henny. You’d. Betta. Work.”

At this point their careers, all the queens know that Mic will roast them till the cows come home. None of them take it personally. Any more, at least. At first, the obnoxious delivery didn’t exactly make Present Mic a very popular queen. But it didn’t take long for them to see the kind heart and smarts behind the overbearing facade.

They’re family, now.

“Here she is, Miss Tiger is here, hide your boyfriends, people, she comin’ for yo man- oh, nah, rewind, too late, she already run into him in the gym and snatched him at the weights section. Damn, you seen those muscles on that queen? Girl, she could lift me and through me out the window, I swear to Gawd.”

The laughter ripples through the place, a backdrop to the music that makes the floor vibrate a little, the queens strutting to the beat on stage in their runway looks. Mic sits backstage, watching with her microphone and peering at them over her sunglasses like she’s judging horses at the Kentucky races.

It all started out with presenting. That is how Present Mic found her drag name, after all. One night, Hizashi had come to visit Nemuri at Club Hero, having no clue how much it took to run a place like this. And, having never stepped foot in drag. He’d watched the runway behind stage with Nemuri, found a running commentary pouring out as the queens worked. The team backstage had loved it, and so had Nemuri. And Hizashi had been addicted to their attention, their laughter and encouragement to keep going. It lit a fire in him and gave him a purpose- entertaining. The last thing he’d expected was to find such a thing through drag.

“Mm Miss Shigaraki walkin’ on stage with that weird, spooky drag I know y’all love but come on, girl, I said it last week and I’ll say it again, put on some mothafuckin’ chapstick, yo.”

The audience screams at the burn. Mic grins.

“Mic.” He looks up from his seat to see Nemuri watching with a proud smile. She loves this place just as much as the rest of them. At the end of the day, if they really were to become a family, it’d be her family. House of Kayama.

“What’s up.” “They’re really rowdy tonight.” “You know I always give them what they want.”

The two of them watch as the queens step into formation for a dance routine. So very much not Mic’s thing. She has two left feet and could probably take someone’s eye out with her hair, styled the way it is.

Mic’s gaze drifts to the audience. And although it’s usually impossible to their expressions, there’s a small group of salary-men at the front, in the light of the stage, that draws Mic’s attention.

There’s a big guy. A big guy with red hair and a grizzly face, looks like he’d give Tiger or Vlad a run for their money. A mean looking fucker with a mean looking smile to match. The guy next to him, who looks, impossibly, even bigger, but more the gentle giant type- blonde and dopey and excited to be there. And then there’s the third guy. The third guy who’s shorter and less stocky but still broad shouldered. His tie is undone and his hair is slicked back, there’s stubble across his chin and a wicked looking scar on his cheek that makes Mic a little hot under the collar.

What troubles her most isn’t the big mean guy’s sneer as he laughs at the queens on stage- superior and mocking and all the things Mic hates. No, the thing that distresses her most is the look of utter indifference on the third guy’s face.

Bored? Here? Present Mic doesn’t settle for bored.

“Those assholes at the front,” Nemuri mutters, hands on her hips and a deathly look in her eyes.

Mic stares at them. The mean guy is shouting something, probably nothing worth getting kicked out over, but it’s getting the queens riled up. Nothing abnormal in a place like this- plenty come in just to laugh at them. But what they don’t know is that this place is protected. This is Club Hero. Every queen in here has her power, her own little quirk.

Mic’s about to show this dickhead her quirk.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Mic assures with a grin and wild, wide eyes that she knows freaks people out. She lays a gentle hand on Nemuri’s arm. “I’mma get him, yo. I’mma get him.”

When Mic stands, leather creaks. Diamante studs shine from the disco ball above her head and her heels take her to six foot seven. With the hair- almost seven foot tall. And as she walks towards the stage, thigh-high boots squeaking and leather mini-dress riding up just the right amount, Mic feels as if she could take over the world.

It’s the confidence she needs to do this job. And do what comes next.

The place smells like hot stage lights and booze. The backstage crew sense her approaching quickly- a seven foot tall, leather and diamante clad drag queen is hard to miss. They all step aside and let Mic pass, business-like but hiding smiles, knowing what’s about to go down. Mic passes through, deadly and determined.

One of the crew speaks into the microphone. “Settle down ladies- the cockatoo is flying to the stage now.” As code names go, Mic supposes it’s pretty accurate. The wig is kind of bird like.

The sound of her heels click-clocking against the floor gives her the momentum she needs to step into the stage lighting and take a stand besides her sisters. They turn to measure Mic’s arrival, expressions mixed- some relieved, some just outright pissed at the fact that their dance routine has stopped. The red haired guy is drunk, it’s obvious- he’s shouting some bullshit that isn’t all that offensive, but it’s annoying. The blonde guy is trying to shut him up, looking just as angry as the queens. And the third guy- he looks downright threatening. The look of disgust and disdain that he’s throwing at the red haired guy is impressive. That’s some shade right there. And he’s saying something that the dude can’t hear, but Mic can guess is biting.

The queens hang around on stage, deflated- they’ve stopped the dance routine in anticipation, and look at Mic. The audience have noticed Mic appear, too, and applause and encouragement seeps through the sewage of heckling from red-haired guy.

“Read him, Mic!” “Slaaayyyy!”

“Yas, come through!”

Gunhead is the first to walk up to her, removing her mask to look her in the eye. “You’d better get out there fast. You know our security team won’t throw him out yet.” “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

“You always do,” she smiles. So gentle despite that badass drag she’s got going.

The queens flow off stage. Jeanist stops her for a moment with a hand on her arm. She looks like she can barely breath in that corset. Why it gotta be denim, though? Mic thinks. “Don’t go too hard, Mic. I think this one could blow up in your face. This is one angry bastard.”

The grin that spreads across Mic’s face is evil. Jeanist doesn’t recoil from the expression- she’s used to it by now.

“I’mma have to try not to pop off too hard. Hold onto your wig, girl, I’m comin’ for him.” Jeanist rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh, before removing her hand and walking off stage.

Mic turns to the microphone that’s been quickly set up in the middle of the stage for her. She slowly steps towards it, painfully slowly with a cruel smirk, teasing the audience who know that she’s about to read this motherfucker so hard he’ll run out crying. The heeled boots click against the floor. And Mic is no pageant queen, or a pretty queen- especially not with the highly controversial moustache that she refuses to shave off- but she’s got legs for days. People whoop throughout the room as she stalks to the end of the runway.

She slowly wraps each individual finger, nails painted black, around the neck of the microphone. It’s particularly suggestive and earns a few more whoops.

The three salary-men are sat directly below her. The red haired one tch-ing like he doesn’t know what’s coming. The blonde one equally oblivious. And the third one- the third one is staring up at her, entirely transfixed. Looking like he’s already impressed, and Mic hasn’t even opened her mouth, yet.

Ooh. She likes this one.

“Yo yo yo, how’s everyone doin’ tonight, peeps?”

The crowd explodes with cheers and werks and slays and yas queens. Mic removes the microphone from the stand and twirls the cable around her index finger as she effortlessly steps across the stage in seven inch heels. Looks into the dark of the crowd through red tinted sunglasses.

“There are some ugly motherfuckers in here tonoit.” There’s sporadic of applause and laughter. No one is safe from roasting when Mic’s on stage. “You know I don’t like coming out here.” Some aaws, some boos. “Ok, I’m lying, I love it, I love reading y’all to filth.” Laughter. “I just know that whenever I come out on stage like this, it’s because some asshole is getting in the way of my sisters’ show, and you that ain’t cool, yo.” Some people clap. “Nah. That’ ain’t cool. We show respect in Club Hero, am I right or am I right?”

A chorus of whoops and cheers and yaaassssses. She feels all eyes on her, and whilst she feels more confident commentating backstage- she’s always half-joked that she’s got a face for radio, not TV- she knows that she owns the room right now. She just has to remind herself of that when the nerves kick in.

Her eyes fall on that handsome stranger again. He doesn’t look bored anymore.

“I need some help now, people, I need some help.” She walks up and down the stage, dragging the microphone cable with her as she paces. “Now I just- I just don’t know what to do this weekend, you feel? I need recommendations. I got a whole-ass day free tomorrow and I wanna do something nice, do something special, and I thought about getting out of the city for a bit, but I’m not about hiking in the mountains or some shit- I know some people have arbor ardor but I'm more of a city kitty ya dig? Nah, I wanna do something relaxing. Something super chill. Maybe I’ll go see a movie. Or. You know. Maybe I’ll take out a book from the library.” The crowd bursts into cheers. Mic grins, looking down at the table of highly confused straight boys. That red haired bastard is talking loud, angry nonsense to the big blonde guy, who’s glaring at him. Redhead isn’t paying any attention at all.

“Now, for those of you who need educating on drag lingo- when the library is open, and it’ll open real soon-” More whooping. “- it means that I’m gonna pick one person in this room and roast them so hard the smell of them burning makes everyone hungry, you feel me?”

Redhead continues to have a one way argument with the blonde guy, who’s now noticed Mic watching them. One hand on her hip and one hand on the microphone. Waiting.

“This bitch. This bitch doesn’t even know what’s coming, he ain’t even noticed that I’m staring at him yet, the disrespect, you know what I’m saying?”

Handsome stranger battles against a smirk, peers over at the two other salarymen. Blonde guy nudges red haired guy. And he finally notices Mic. He looks her up and down with a disdainful frown. Mic just stands there, seven foot tall and plastering on her most terrifying, shit-eating grin.

“What’s your name, sweetie.”

Some people applaud in excitement, the rest of the room hushes in anticipation. Red haired guy just stares at her, frowning and apparently unable to believe that he’s being addressed like this. Blonde guy is covering his mouth- he’s shaking with laughter.

“Sorry I- I couldn’t hear you, what’s that?” Mic stoops forward with a hand on his ear to listen to nothing. Red haired guy won’t open his mouth. “Right, right, right. I see what this is, you got some pride to withhold, haven’t you. I get it. He likes being centre of attention only until someone calls him out, huh.”

“His name’s Todoroki.”

Mic looks down at the dark handsome stranger who’s shouted out this name. He’s looking smug, not deigning to give his colleague any eye contact as he warns him to keep your mouth shut.

Mic steps to the edge of the stage and sits down, legs hanging off the edge and continuing to twirl the microphone cable flirtatiously.

Those dark eyes fixed on her. It almost makes her shiver. “And what’s your name, sugar?”

A grin. A grin, just as terrifying as Mic’s. “Aizawa.”

“Aizawa?” She says the name with a responding smile and blonde guy nudges Aizawa conspiratorially. “Aizawa, I think you and me gonna be friends. Can you help me read this son of a bitch right now?” He nods. Mic barks a laugh, loud and abrasive just like the rest of her. “Oh he don’t even care, he’s betraying his friend just like that-”

“He’s not my friend. He’s my boss.”

“Oh my- holy shit, yo, my boy’s shameless. You got more balls than I do, honey, that’s for sure. Shit, I like this one.”

People are calling out suggestive noises and laughing, and Mic has to admit she wasn’t expecting it to go this way. Flirting with audience members is fairly normal, but this is the first time that it’s been so reciprocated. This Aizawa man could snatch all of her attention if she isn’t too careful.

She looks out into the crowd and spots red haired dude, Todoroki, sneering with his chin jutting out.

Mic turns towards him, shuffling in her seat. “Oh shit, sorry girl, I totally forgot about you.” That sneer only increases. Ah, there it is- she could tell from the start. It’s always so, so easy to tell when a guy thinks he’s the most important and deserves all the attention.

This guy’s problem is ego, and egos are easy to deflate.

“I was just flirting with this nice man over here,” Mic continues. “What’s your name again? Todoroki, wasn’t it? Yo, you should move seats. For real, you shouldn’t be sitting next to your friend Captain America, he makes you look like his smaller, bitchier, less impressive version of him, you know what I’m saying?” That earns some cackles and cheers. Captain America’s eyes widen in shock and he continues to hide his face. Aizawa purses his lips against a smile. Eyes still fixed on Mic.

Todoroki goes rigid in his seat, squares his jaw, tenses his shoulders and clenches his fists on the table, beside the empty glasses.

“The library is officially open, people. Oh, shit, I knew that would piss you off- you’re a big man. Big important man who likes to be in charge and wants to be the best. Yeah, I’ve seen you before.” Mic pauses. “Bet you got a small dick.”

It’s not clever comment, but it’s an effective one, one that always gets laughs, and one that always, always works with a man like this- who looks the other way, fist clenching so hard his arm muscles are twitching.

“He about to hulk out, I can tell.” And Mic’s playing a dangerous game, but she knows what she’s doing. She slips off the stage, the spotlight following her as she steps towards the table. There’s a round of oooos as she makes her way with flamboyant purpose towards Todoroki. She pauses in front of him, looming above him, merely staring him down. It’s a testament to his pride that he plays that game, stare locked on her with his chin jutting out.

And then, Mic perches on Todoroki’s knee, legs draped over him and an arm around his shoulder. The audience scream in delight.

“I’ve got some nerve, don’t I?” Mic smirks. Todoroki looks both horrified and furious, in amusing measure. Mic bats her eyelids, puts on her best Betty Boop voice. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Mr Todoroki, sir?” Todoroki stares in the other direction, and he growls the following through his teeth. “Get yourself off of me.”

“He speaks!” Mic proclaims, and the room cheers. “Your voice, oh man, you’re sounding like the shitty porno version of Batman right now.”

She feels Todoroki tense under his arm. She hastily complies, though, removing herself and peering at him over her sunglasses. “Yo, he’s about to kill me just now. Well, maybe I’ll just resort to the safety of my friend Aizawa over here-”

She takes herself to Aizawa’s lap instead, settling on his knees with a feigned bashful expression. And Aizawa looks at her with a mixture of amusement and interest. There’s a furious blush on that face.

“Oh, yes, this seat’s much more comfortable. Shit, when I came on stage I thought this boy right here was straight, I was wrong.” Aizawa smirks, watching her as she speaks, eyes full of interest. “That’s a joke, right? Look at him now, he’s feeling right at home with a seven foot drag queen in his lap. Almost as funny as the joke that people are spreading around saying I’m a top.” Wow. This is one handsome bastard. And not only is he unfazed, he seems to be enjoying Mic’s performance substantially.

Mic likes the attention.

She leans forward a little, resting a hand on the back of Aizawa’s chair. Aizawa doesn’t lean away, eyes on her. “You a top, baby?”

The crowd is going insane, and she hasn’t even started properly roasting this guy Todoroki yet.

Oh shit, yeah, she’s meant to be reading that asshole right now.

This Aizawa guy is way too distracting.

“Oh, honey-” she says in realisation, turning to Todoroki, waving a dismissively apologetic hand. “-Shit, sorry girl, I totally forgot about you again. You’re just that forgettable.” And behind the joyous applause, she hears Todoroki say something. She can read his lips, and that’s the only reason she can pick up what he said: Fucking freak.

Captain America looks furious on her behalf, but sort of like he wants to stay to see how this pans out, rather than drag Todoroki out. And Aizawa doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to Todoroki at all.

That possibly makes her a little smug.

Mic’s had a lot worse before, though. People have called her all sorts of names. People have called Hizashi all sorts of names, even out of drag. But they’re resilient.

A hand flies to her chest theatrically and she makes a motherly gasp. “He called me a fucking freak, ladies and gentlemen!” They boo and jeer. “Mr Todoroki, , how rude. You eat asshole with that mouth?” Even the implication that he might be anything other than straight makes him shift angrily in his seat. The only reason he hasn’t got up to leave, like some people do when they’re being read, is because of his pride. Mic assumes, anyway. That makes it so much more enjoyable.

“No, no, no- I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mic adds, waving another apologetic hand and crossing her legs, still settled nicely in Aizawa’s lap. “I shouldn’t be so mean to you right now, you didn't know what was coming. I should tone it down, huh. OK, let’s get to know you a little better- what brings a boy like you to a place like this?” Todoroki, predictably, doesn’t reply, just looks stoically the other way. Captain America takes this question, leaning towards Mic so she can hear over the rapturous audience. “My friend recommended it, she’s a drag queen too.” Mic’s mouth falls open. “These boys are full of surprises- what’s her name?”

“Nighteye.”

“Nighteye? Holy shit, you friends with Miss Nighteye? I didn’t think anybody was friends with Nighteye, the skinny, shady bitch.”

Captain America laughs knowingly. Mic drapes an arm around Aizawa’s shoulders, and is momentarily captivated by that look he’s giving her. Like he just wants to eat her up.

She stares back.

And then shakes her head, trying to snap out of it. “I’m gonna have to remove myself, yo, you distracting me too much,” she announces with a nervous laugh. This isn’t usually how this routine goes. Aizawa looks a little disappointed, but no less interested in her as she steps away, little leather mini-dress squeaking as she returns to sit on the edge of the stage.

Todoroki glares at her.

“OK, OK, so Mr Todoroki, you got family?” No answer, of course. Mic swings her thigh high boots off the edge of the stage happily. She gesticulates with her free hand as she talks, Todoroki looking at her like he’s willing her to burst into flames on stage, Carrie style. “He ain’t best pleased, ladies and gentlemen, he ain’t best pleased. Girl why you look so pissed? It’s just a game. And that’s what you get for disrespecting my sisters on stage, you know what I’m sayin’?”

Applause fills the room, and Mic smiles down at Todoroki’s fuming expression. He won’t last much longer. She can see the security team stepping through the crowd.

“Oof. Look at that angry face. He’s so pissed. What’s the tea, sweetie? What’s the tea?” Mic leans forward, elbow on her knee and staring Todoroki down. “I wanna know, what’s the matter baby? Did someone steal that red sharpie pen you colour your hair with?”

And then he snaps. Todoroki finally stands up, but before he can get anywhere he has three security guards on him, pulling him away. There’s always that short moment when Mic is genuinely frightened. But she knows she’s safe. And she knows what game she’s playing when she’s reading men like this. She takes the risk because, in her mind, it’s worth it. And so she calmly watches Todoroki being escorted away, the audience exploding with applause and booing.

Meanwhile, Captain America picks up his stuff and confidently walks towards Mic, brows knit together anxiously. He leans forward so that only she can hear, and she removes the microphone so it doesn’t pick up his words.

“I’m sorry for my colleague. He’s a bully. Aizawa and I loved your show.” Even through all the hate in the world, little rays of sunshine like this man peek through. Mic smiles, heart genuinely warmed. “Thank you. Mr?” “Yagi. Yagi Toshinori.” She nods, committing the name to memory. “You’re a good man Mr Yagi Toshinori.” Yagi smiles apologetically and turns away, broad shoulders practically bursting out of the suit. And Mic is about to stand up and get back on stage, call the queens back out- but here comes Aizawa, a calm look of purpose on his face. He stretches out his hand, passing her something she can’t see in the dark of the audience. She reaches to take it.

There’s butterflies in her chest. Christ, it’s like she’s a thirteen year old girl.

It’s a card. Aizawa turns back into the crowd, walks lazily out of the club with his suit jacket over his arm. Mic looks down at the card.

His business card. With his mobile number.

She can’t help but laugh out loud in disbelief.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” she announces with no small amount of excitement. There’s fireworks going off in her chest. Combined with the adrenaline of her reading, this is almost too much. “This is a Club Hero first. I just that nice man’s number.”

The crowd explodes. She turns to look behind her, where the queens are catwalking back on stage and waiting for their cue to being their routine again. Some of them applauding her and cheering her on. Nemuri peers from behind the stage curtain, giving a giant thumbs up. She’s never going to let Mic live this down.

Mic stands up on stage, looks into the crowd, who are still cheering. She laughs again.

“I’m clearly not doing this reading thing properly if I’m coming away with a date.”

#my writing #bnha #erasermic #drag au #fic prompt