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#so instead he hid with one of my English teachers and she made him do poetry work while hiding
semisolidmind · 1 year
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Since this was gonna be longer than a standard ask, I thought I'd submit it instead.
Here are my human x mascot OCs for Fuwa Fuwa Pandemic
Sakiko "Kiki" Djobo
They/she
Has a Togolese father and a Japanese mother. Raised primarily in the U.S. but spent a lot of time with family in their parents' home countries growing up.
Kiki was able to get a job as an English teacher at a Japanese school that happened to be close to where her maternal grandparents lived, so she spent some time visiting them before her job officially started. That is, unfortunately, when everything went down.
Kiki ends up escaping an encounter with a mascot, but her grandparents sacrificed themselves to save her. They hid her in an old bunker in the house, where she stayed until the threat of starvation forced her out.
Eventually, she meets up with a group of survivors, mostly around her age, who are trying to find the perfect place to settle, where there are few mascots or where they can more easily defend themselves from attacks.
The group travels far, but eventually they come across an old farm near a city that seems to be mostly left alone at this time and decide to make it their homebase. Kiki, who likes to garden, and a grad student who was studying industrial agriculture convince the group to try and farm it for a steady source of food. There's even a stream that bisects the farmland, a stable source of water they can exploit for themselves and the crops.
Suiko
He/him
Suiko is an apex mascot, inspired by a mythical water creature that, according to folk tradition, inhabited that very creek, the Kappa.
Because the mascot he was based on was actually made of waterproof materials, Suiko is one of the only mascots who has the ability to swim, as his skin is naturally smooth and watertight.
His swimming prowess has allowed him to supplement his carnivorous diet with water creatures, such as fish and frogs. But he'll drown a human if he's hungry enough and the opportunity presents itself. Transient survivors are often drawn to the creek because it's a good water source.
If he's not that hungry or he's too tired to hunt, he may engage survivors in polite conversation, but they should still be wary of him.
How They Met
At first, Suiko enjoys his solitary life, but he begins to grow lonely. Until, one day, a group of survivors overtakes the recently abandoned farm that surrounds his part of the creek. He revels in the prospect of a steady source of meals for the next week or so.
But one of them comes to the creek to do laundry, and he has to admit, he finds them kind of attractive. And he's not that hungry at the moment, so he reveals himself and promises not to hurt them if they don't try to run from him.
The human hesitantly agrees, eventually introducing herself as Sakiko, or Kiki, for short. Even though this mascot is polite to her, she can't help but feel disappointed that her group might have to move again. Until she remembers a bit of folklore about Kappas; they love cucumbers. And the farm has a few cucumber plants that are putting out fruits like crazy. So Kiki promises to come back and give him one. He's a little skeptical, but he lets her go because he's genuinely curious about this exalted "cucumber."
Kiki leaves to put the clothes out to dry and comes back with a handful. Suiko's face lights up when he tries the strange fruit and he becomes somewhat obsessed with them.
So he and Kiki strike a deal that, if she brings him cucumbers whenever she can and talks with him for a while, he'll leave the other survivors alone and will hide from them while continuing to defend his territory from rival mascots.
—————-
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they sit by the river and “talk” (suiko talks, kiki listens and tries not to think about how easily he could tear her apart)
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draguta · 1 year
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.fairytale of new york | three.
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pairing: professor!bucky x fem!reader
summary: a semester in new york. a handsome man in a bar. whiskey neat. to the lighthouse. christmas lights. this is the tale of a whirlwind romance. a forbidden fairytale. college au.
chapter word count: 3532
warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, age gap (reader 19, bucky 34), student/teacher relationship
a/n: not me adding in a little smut based on one of my actual fantasies (sex in a library honestly sounds like a dream to me).
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Bucky
Bucky was in an impossible position. His career had always been the most important thing to him, that was why he hadn’t had a relationship in nearly six years. It was the only thing he had ever focused on, always telling himself that everything else can wait. There had never been a point where he’d ever questioned his priority before. But now? Now he had a problem.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. The girl that had fallen into his lap when he had least expected it. The way that their encounter had occurred, the way that the coincidences seemed to simply pile up, made him think that it was something more. He felt drawn to her in a way that he’d never had with any other girl before. Her words spoken in the bar that very first night played on a loop in his brain during his waking hours, and the sight of her face as he brought her to finish on his tongue haunted his dreams each night.
He tried not to think about her, tried to avoid her. He kept himself distracted with work, with his colleagues, but every time he received a piece of work with her name written at the top in curled cursive letters, his mind snapped back to those memories.
He really was in trouble, but not in the way that he had originally thought. Not because there was the chance of them getting caught, but instead because he actually wanted to get to know her. Because he could see himself reading late at night with her cuddled up to his side. Because he could imagine waking her up in the morning with a kiss, making pancakes for her whilst she sat on the counter beside him with a cup of coffee, wearing his t-shirt from the night before.
It made no sense; he barely knew this girl. Sure, they’d had two incredible moments of intimacy together, moments that he would cherish, but he didn’t really know anything about her, besides the fact that she liked to read and that she wanted to be a writer some day. How could he possibly be feeling something for her already, even if it was miniscule.
“James.” The voice pulled Bucky out of his thoughts, and as he glanced up from his morning coffee he found Rhodey, one of the professors that worked under him in the English Department, taking a seat at the table that Bucky had found himself at during his lunch break.
“Rhodey,” he smiled. “Sorry, I was in my own little world there. What can I help you with?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Rhodey explained. “Do you have a student named Y/N?”
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Y/N
Days passed by, which quickly turned into weeks. You found yourself getting into the swing of college, the nerves that you had felt upon first arriving now long gone. You had finally met all of your roommates, from the quiet and slightly moody MJ who was studying Biology, eccentric and slightly clumsy Kate who was studying Art, and finally Shuri, who had an incredible mind according to her professor, Professor Stark, Head of Physics.
Ever since that moment in Bucky’s office so many weeks ago you had kept your distance from him. You often found yourself sitting at the very back of the lecture hall for your three lectures per week, hid behind your laptop refusing to make eye contact, and went to Professor Rhodes, another professor in the English department if you had any questions about the material. Whilst Professor Rhodes seemed rather confused as to why you would go to him and not your own professor, he was always happy to help.
You were doing well in your classes, and had become close with Yelena and Wanda, who still remained your favourite people on campus. You did everything that you could to distract yourself from him, but nothing seemed to quell the aching that you had for him. It was like nothing you had experienced for a man before, and there ultimately seemed to be no stopping it.
When you had seen him in line at a coffee shop near campus one afternoon you had rushed out of the door without him even seeing you, trying desperately to swallow down the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. You’d caught him one morning outside of the lecture hall laughing happily with a red-headed professor, one that you recognized from Kate’s course brochure as the head of the Art department, Professor Romanoff. He had his head swung back in raucous laughter at something she had said, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy that rang through your chest at the sight. You had rushed home and emailed in sick that day.
No problem, Y/N. Are you ok? Do you need anything? Let me know - Bucky.
That had been the only correspondence you’d had with him since that day in his office. He had signed it Bucky, an email from his work address, and a small moment of panic came to you, but passed quickly when you double checked and realised that he had replied from his personal account instead.
Around three days after that you found yourself in the school library. Professor Rhodes had suggested the day before that an extracurricular analysis of one of your favourite books was a great way to hone your skills, so you had taken his advice and begun work on it. He had advised handing it into ‘Professor Barnes’ for extra credit but you couldn’t bear the thought of having to speak to him face-to-face again, even if you knew that it would happen eventually.
‘To the Lighthouse’ is Woolf’s most autobiographical work of fiction, drawing on her own childhood and family experiences in the 1890s and early 1900s.
You wrote quickly and carefully, your fingers running over the keys of your laptop as if it were muscle memory. ‘To the Lighthouse’ your favourite book, the copy on the table beside you the same one you’d had since a child, filled with annotations and highlights.
Note that the title, ‘To the Lighthouse’ could suggest a journey steadily progressing towards an end goal, but what the novel actually gives us is a narrative in which that journey ‘to the lighthouse’ is delayed until the end of the novel.
You took a sip of your tea, still hot from the shop on the corner of campus, checking back to the book to compare your notes to your analysis. It was dark in the library, late in the evening, and quiet, with few students still there studying due to the lateness of the hour. But this was where you were happiest, the most at peace.
In the final section, pointedly titled ‘The Lighthouse’, the preposition is dropped, but has the trip to the lighthouse really been achieved? It has, with the lighthouse simply resembling the goals that the children have for the future, not a tangible lighthouse to visit.
“Still working so late?”
It was a familiar voice that pulled you away from your work, away from the words of Virginia Woolf and back to reality. You swallowed but your throat was already dry from the thought of seeing him. Slowly you turned, coming face-to-face with Bucky. He was wearing a button-up shirt under a dark-blue blazer, a laptop bag draped over his shoulder, a pile of papers in his arms. He looked good - he always did.
“Just some extracurricular work,” you explained with a shrug. “Someone told me that it would be a good way to keep myself on track with my work, and maybe get some extra credit while I’m at it.”
He took a step forward, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Would that someone be Professor Rhodes?”
He slowly moved forward again until he was standing beside you by the desk.
“How did you know about that?” You asked slowly, your thumbs fiddling with each other in your lap awkwardly, nervously.
“We work in the same department, Y/N. You think he wouldn’t tell me that one of my students has been going to him for advice instead of me?” He pointed out, and you had to admit it made a lot of sense. You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky beat you to it. “I get it, I really do. And if that’s what you have to do to feel more…comfortable, then I’m ok with that.”
You frowned, taking in the words that he had just said, letting their meaning sink in. He thought that you were more comfortable around Professor Rhodes because of everything that had transpired between you and Bucky.
“You think you make me uncomfortable?” You asked slowly, looking up at him. He shuffled awkwardly before finally perching on the seat beside you, planting down the pile of papers in his hand on the desk.
“T-That’s not what I meant,” he stuttered. “But I would understand if you did.”
A light laugh echoed around the library, quickly followed by a ‘shush’ from the librarian at the front desk. Bucky looked at you with a deep frown, clearly thinking you were completely mad.
“I don’t feel uncomfortable around you Bucky,” you explained. You lowered your voice slightly for fear of being overheard, moving closer to him as you spoke. “I was just worried about you getting in trouble.”
It was Bucky’s turn to laugh, a beaming smile on his face. It was nice, knowing that his smile was because of you, not some red-headed professor. “You don’t need to worry about me, doll,” he beamed. “I can look after myself. Now, let me have a look at this analysis you’re working on.”
The two of you sat there for the next few hours, Bucky reading over your shoulder as you wrote, pointing out errors or sentences that he thought could be expanded on. Your mind drifted back to the very first day of your course, his very first rule.
“One: I am here to support you, not do your work for you. I will not push you to the right answer. If you don’t know the answer, listen and study.”
It didn’t seem as though he was following his own rule as the two of you sat in that library. He was giving you hints, edging you in the right direction, even leaning over your shoulder to rewrite an entire sentence for you, which you were certain was completely against the rules that he had created for his class. But you didn’t care. He was with you again, even if it was in an academic sense. You could smell his scent once more, now close enough for it to engulf you again, the paper, the ink, the sandalwood, tobacco, leather, the vanilla, each one filling your nostrils, almost making you forget about the paper entirely. He placed a hand on the small of your back, leaning closer as he discussed a comparison paragraph between two characters, and you could help but clench your thighs at the contact. What you didn’t realise was that Bucky had noticed it, and a small smirk began to play at his lips.
“Out of curiosity,” he said suddenly after a few hours, leaning forward in his seat and leaning against the desk, placing a hand on the cover of your novel. “Why did you choose ‘To the Lighthouse’?”
“I first read it back in middle school, and I found it fascinating how it completely steered away from all of the literature that I’d read before from the same era,” you explained with a shrug. “Woolf used her own personal memories to create a story that is so intimate and poetic, and I just thought that was incredible.”
Bucky nodded slowly, his eyebrows raised in thought. “That’s a very analytic take on it,” he said, looking at you pointedly. “But what is the personal connection?”
“What do you mean?” You asked, leaning back in your chair and taking a sip of your tea, now cold.
“From experience, when someone has a favourite book, it’s usually because there is some kind of personal connection,” he urged. “Something that makes that story, that book, so important to the person. So what’s yours?”
You paused, shooting him a small smile before looking down at the cup in your hands. “Do you really want to know?” You asked quietly, and from the corner of your eye you saw him nod firmly. “That copy there was my grandma’s. It was her favourite book when I was growing up, and she always talked about it. I never read it, but after she died I found her copy.”
You spared a glance in his direction, but he didn’t speak, sitting patiently waiting for you to continue.
“It was filled with annotations that she’d made, and when I read it for the first time, it brought back so many memories,” you explained. “Every time I reached a part that she had talked about, or a paragraph that she had quoted, it felt as though she was with me at that moment. I began adding my own annotations to the same copy, started re-reading it over and over again to get that feeling back. After a while, it simply became my go-to book, the one that I always pick over anything else.”
You looked over at him when you had finished and found that he was smiling at you. It was a soft smile, understanding and perhaps a little sympathetic, and it made those butterflies in your stomach flutter to life once more. You wanted to pull him towards you, to kiss him and tell him how difficult it was to stay away from him. But you knew that you couldn’t - it was too risky.
“You know, this is my favourite book too,” he said eventually, lifting up your copy and flicking through the pages carefully. “It was the very first book that I ever studied, the one that made me find my passion for English and for writing. I owe my entire career to this book.”
You’d never had a conversation like this with him before, but you found that you were actually enjoying it. It was nice to know that he was someone outside of your professor, that you had so much in common with him.
“Looks like I picked a good book to analyse then,” you smiled, turning back to your laptop, trying to push away the smile that was threatening to spread across your face.
He leans forward to look over your shoulder once more, but this time it’s not the small of your back that his hand goes to. Instead, it finds its way to your thigh, squeezing gently at the flesh there as if asking if it was ok. Slowly you dipped your hand under the table, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one was looking, interlacing your fingers with yours.
He leaned in close to you, his voice low, his cheek brushing against your shoulder.
“You’re dangerous,” he whispered. “You have no idea what you do to me. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Turning your head slightly you realised just how close you were, close enough that you could smell the coffee on his breath, and if you moved forward even just a few centimetres your lips would be connected.
“If I’m dangerous,” you whispered back, blinking at him slowly. “Then you’re irresistible.”
He twirled his hand around in yours, playing with your fingers, glancing down at your hand intertwined with his before glancing back up at you. You knew what was running through his mind - it was running through yours as well. You nodded, and he smiled back at you, rising to his feet, his hand never leaving yours as he led you away from the desk, leaving your computer and papers behind. He let go of your hand for only a second as you passed by the front desk, with him calling a ‘hello Maria’ to the librarian, before grabbing it again as soon as the pair of you were out of sight. He led you to the corner of the room and up the metal spiral staircase in the corner, one that was rarely used, leading to the section for the older books.
“No one comes up here, don’t worry,” he explained as he pulled you down a corridor, finally finding an aisle to his satisfaction and pulling you down it.
Within a moment he had slammed you against the bookcase, his lips crushing against yours, his hands sliding down to your thighs to help hoist you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist as if it were habit.
You both knew that you didn’t have long, and so as your hands trailed down to his belt buckle, he did the same, undoing the button of your jeans and hoisting them down your thighs as you pulled his suit pants down to his knees. He was inside you within an instant, and you both groaned at the sensation of being connected once again, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder as your hand reached out to grab onto the shelves beside you for support.
He began to thrust upwards, rough and quick, his hips snapping against yours in perfect rhythm. His hand tugged at your hair, revealing your throat to him, and he took it upon himself to latch his lips onto the skin just below your jaw, sucking and biting, before kissing it sweetly to null the pain.
“Tell me why I can’t stay away from you?” He mumbled against your skin. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”
“Me too, Bucky,” you whispered, gasping as he readjusted your hips, meaning that he hit your spot perfectly. “T-Think about you all the time.”
His thrusts became faster, messier. The bookcase rattled behind you, books falling from the shelves with each movement, but neither of you cared. You were simply chasing your highs, edging closer and closer to the fall. You wanted to fall with him, to feel him finish with you, at the same time. You slid your hand down his arm, finding his hand on your thigh, tangling your fingers with his, sweaty hands clasped together as you got closer and closer to ecstasy together.
“Stay with me tonight.” It wasn’t a request or a question, it was a command. He was telling you that you were staying with him even if you didn’t want to. Little did he know that was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to fall asleep on his chest, your skin sticking together, his spend dripping out of you onto his sheets.
The coil in your stomach snapped at the thought, and you leant forward, your teeth digging into his shoulder slightly as you tried desperately to swallow your screams from the bliss that took over your entire body., causing him to hiss at the slight pain. He finished at the same time, just as you had hoped for, the hot seed filling you up, certain to be dripping down your legs on the way back downstairs. He cursed, mumbling your name against your shoulder as he finished, his hips slowing to a stop. You were able to see his face this time, his lips parted slightly, eyes closed as if he were seeing heaven itself. You had never seen a sight more perfect.
The pair of you stayed like that for a moment simply catching your breaths before he finally pulled away, helping you down from your perch on the bookshelf.
“Did you really mean it?” You asked, buttoning up your jeans and looking back over to him as he tucked his shirt back into his trousers.
“What?” He asked with a frown, satisfied with his shirt, and moving on to wipe the fog from his glasses on his sleeve.
“When you asked me to stay with you tonight,” you explained slowly. It was very possible that he had simply said it in the heat of the moment, passion providing clouded judgement. But he paused, looking at you as if you had just said something idiotic.
“Of course I meant it.” He moved closer, placing his hands on your arms, and you took his glasses from him, slowly sliding them back onto his nose with a smile as he looked down at you. “I meant everything that I said. I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s really becoming a problem.”
“So first I’m dangerous, and now I’m a problem,” you laughed, sliding your hands around his neck as he slipped his own around your waist. “I don’t know if I should be insulted, professor.”
Bucky groaned, his eyes squinting and his mouth curling into a smirk, and you raised your eyebrow at the view. “So, you like it when I call you professor, do you?” You asked, wearing a matching smirk. “I’ll have to remember that.”
You reached up onto your tiptoes, and planted a sweet and tender kiss to his lips, before the pair of you made your way back down the staircase, hand-in-hand.
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| @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer | @moonlightreader649 |
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new-44556678 · 6 months
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Sprawling Mansion Tickles
So this is a Narrative that I made in school about a Haunted House, the whole class worked on this kind of narrative for the full month of October. And I actually ended typing this on Google docs and also submitting it to my English Teacher. But this one of Tumblr will be just slightly different, instead of it just being entirely scary there will be a bit more of a happy ending, but anyway carrying on.
Characters: 6 yr old Jack, The Tickle Ghost Girl.
The Night was cold, the wind whispered in Jacks ears. As he walked inside the abandoned mansion he saw that the inside was darker then he expected, rather old and dirty. Jack began walking around and saw a torn up, nasty sofa nearby, he didn't feel like standing the whole time so he decided to sit on it. Jack was only years old, so he snuck out of the house at 3:00 AM so his parents wouldn't notice. And despite being young he never believed in paranormal activity or ghost stories, he just saw it all as silly but clever stories to tell before bed. However not all stories are entirely fake. Then suddenly Jack hears a noise, a sound of some kind, like footsteps heading his way. Jack jolted up from the sofa and looked desperately for a place to hide, he then saw a large chest nearby what he hid himself in. "Who or what is that?" Jack whispered to himself thinking until "Hello, who's there? Who's in my house?" The voice of a little said. It was The Tickle Ghost Girl! The legends were true! Jack began to get scared by the second as The Girl began looking around the area, searching for who could've made the small sound. Eventually she saw Jack peeking out of the large chest nearby.
"Aha! There you are!" The Girl said as she began to walk up to the chest, making Jacks blood run cold. "What brings you here new friend?" The Girl asked the boy, a smirk forming on her face. "Hi, I'm just walking around here, sorry I'll leave." Jack replied to The Girl nervously, trying his best to lie. However he wasn't that convincing. "First of all that lie was terrible, second of all why?" The Girl said, just wondering why he would leave. "I need to get back to my parents, that's all." Jack said, as he was walking out he heard The Girl yell "NO! You are NOT leaving, ever!" Jacks hearting began to pound out of his chest as she said all that. "No please, I have to get back to my parents!" Jack said, his voice trembling. "No, you are staying here!" And as soon as The Girl said that giant, slimy, black tentacles began to come from the walls. Grabbing Jack in the process, the tentacles began to tighten on Jacks body, making sure he was completely caught to the wall. "What are these!? I can't move! Let me go!" Jack snapped at The Girl, trying to be intimidating. Jack was young, 6 years old, and also quite small and short. So his attempt at trying to be intimidating only made The Girl smile at him. "Ok boy, you wanna play mean huh? Ok!" The Girl said as she began walking up to the poor, young defenseless boy. "No! Stay back!" Jack said, his heart skipped a beat.
When The Girl got close enough to the boy she began to lightly trace her finger on his stomach. All Jack could do was bite his lower lip. Trying his best to stop the laughter from coming out. "I know you can feel this, and I know your ticklish! I can see it all in your face! So, why are you fighting back? It's pointless you know." The Girl teased the boy earning a bright red blush from him, all the boy could mutter were the two words. "I'm sorry!" The Girl was looking directly at the boy now, was completely red in the face, she didn't know if it was from fear or embarrassment. So The Girl asked. "Are you scared?" The boy replied with a common sign of no from his head. "So your embarrassed?" The Girl asked the boy, once receiving no as an answer. "Do I have to dig deeper until you decide to tell me?" The Girl asked the boy, Jack eventually began to get scared of this situation as his shirt was pulled up and The Girl immediately dug her finger into Jack's bellybutton. "Hahahahahahahaha hahahahahah!" Jack laughed with shock because he was not expecting it all to happen so quickly. Jack was ticklish! Very ticklish on every part of his body! So he was really not expecting the sudden the tickle attack out of nowhere!
The Tickle Ghost Girl realized that this was not exactly doing it for her, so she dragged one of her other hands to go squeeze at his side. Making the boy squeak with both shock and confusion due to the other spot being tickled out of the blue. "Hahahahahahahaha*squeaks*hahahahahahahaha!" Jack laughed harder and squeaked just as much. The Girl began to see the new reaction as something positive and also rare, not much people who enter the house squeak. Or laugh nearly as adorably as Jack was. "Aw look at you boy, so cute!" The Girl teased Jack once again, making his cheeks turn into a crimson red! "Shuhuhuhut uhuhup! FUCK you!" The boy Jack cursed at The Girl. "Oh you think that's funny!? Oh I'll show you something funny!" The Girl said as she began to dish out the most brutal ticklish part on him, his feet! As The Girl grabbed a hold of his legs she decided to let the tentacles tickle Jack as well just to make it ten times worse. "Hahahahahahahaha! Wait! Nohohohohohoho! Nooooo! Not the f- Hahahahahahahaha HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*squeals and squeaks*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHA!"
Jack shrieked as his laughter went up a few octaves, he was really not expecting this attack on his most sensitive part ever. He was really wanting mercy but he didn't feel like giving in without a fight so he just said yelled through his laughter and squeals and squeaks. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Obviously he was just playing with The Girl, because, well, "Oh you know what I want!" The Girl said as she began to up the pace on her fingers tickling his feet. That was when Jack realized the more dumb he played the more the tickles got worse. So he just had to confess or else he would eventually die in this very mansion. "OK OK I'LL HAHAHAHAHA I WILL TELL YOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Jack yelled through laughter and snickers, and as soon as he said that all the tickles stopped. "Ok... I... I was... I... I was embarrassed and scared... At the same time." "Really?" The two began talking for awhile but The Girl then saw the sun come up and decided it was time for him to go. "Go." The Girl said. "What?" Jack replied. "Your letting me go? Really?" Jack was trying his best to wrap his head around this. He was really, really confused. "Yes, your are, a good boy. I can tell because you told the truth. Everyone else who dared to step foot in my house would never tell the truth and just suffer the consequences. But you are different..." The Girl explained. "Ok, well thank you!" Jack said with a smile on his face as he began waving good bye. But then The Girl told the truth "Wait!" She said as she caught up to the boy and gave him a light a affectionate kiss on the forehead. "I love you, really." The Girl said. Jack was super confused now. "What, why?" The Girl loves him, how? Why? "I don't know, I just felt some sort of connection with you!" The Girl explained to the boy once again. "This time tears of both happiness and sadness began rolling down Jacks face as he walked away.
And The Tickle Ghost Girls tears were the same way "Are those tears of happiness or sadness?" The Girl asked Jack "Both!" Jack replied "What about yours, are they tears of happiness or tears of sadness?" Jack asked The Girl this time. "Both!" The Ghost Girl replied, and that's when Jack ran out the building crying, but he then looked back. Maybe another time at 3:00 AM he could come back and say hi to his new friend once again.
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messers-moony · 3 years
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Serene | F.H
Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader
Summary: Five’s wife has a room in their apartment for her own safe keeping. But Diego’s daughter accidentally reveals her biggest secret.
Her scent was heavenly—a beautiful desired mix of coffee, chocolate, and old books. Waking up beside her was like waking up in a coffee shop during sunrise. Her scent resembled her nature and her personality to a tea.
She was calm, collective, resourceful, and quiet. Much different than he himself. Number Five was just as innovative as her. But he found himself more different than similar. He often acted upon impulse and unable to rest. To his siblings, they were bewildered at how the two of them spent a multitude of years together in an apocalypse.
Nevertheless, opposites attract.
Regardless, she didn’t speak up. Instead, she hid in a corner with a book agreeing with the other person instead of saying her point of view. She hated conflict more than anything. Five, on the other hand, would only make conflict when necessary. He always stood up for himself and his opinions.
It was a communication issue they both had to solve. While in the apocalypse, she didn’t speak for the first month. He was lucky if he even got some form of communication other than a nod or a shake of the head. Eventually, he learned her name was Y/n. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. She looked like her name.
She moved so delicately and smoothly it drove Five crazy. This woman he met was so opposite to him it drove him up the wall. The conflict between the two usually ended up in her quietly leaving the shared apartment and returning later than expected. Which left Five to pull at the tuffs of his brown hair in frustration.
Five overthought everything. This woman was the light of his life, but she couldn’t deal with conflict to save her life, and it made him wonder. Maybe she went through a dark time before the apocalypse. Perhaps the scars on her arms weren’t from accidental burns on the fire. He paced in their main room for hours. It seemed before a knock on the door caught his attention.
The boy opened the door to see his brother, “ Hey, Diego. “
“ Um, hey, Five. “ Regardless of Diego’s nervous greeting, Five gave a reassuring smile, “ Artemis wanted to know if she could stay here for the time being while I’m at work. “
The little girl was Y/n’s pride and joy. The two were so highly similar. Even Artemis found herself cowering at Five sometimes. Five was just a ticking time bomb no one ever knew when it would explode, and it made people nervous. Henceforth Diego was hoping Y/n would answer the door with her soothing nature.
“ Yeah, she can stay here for as long as she wants. “ Five replied softly, looking at the ten-year-old girl, “ Is Y/n here? “ Diego queried.
Five shook his head, “ She went out. I’m sure she’ll be back later. “
“ Alright, well, thank you for taking care of her. “ Diego sighed as Artemis went inside Five’s apartment, “ It’s no problem. “
Diego gave another nervous smile and walked away. The brunet male shut the door and locked it afterward. The little girl never really got along with Five. He didn’t know what to do. Children didn’t mix well with Five, especially an introverted, antisocial ten-year-old girl.
Artemis was gorgeous for her age. Long brown hair that resembled Vanya’s at her age with bangs across her forehead. Striking blue eyes like no other. A pale complexion compared to Diego’s naturally tan one. Her name was almost a contradiction to who she was. This little girl was no independent, strong, brave goddess. Instead, she was intelligent, quiet, and careful.
There was one room in the apartment Y/n didn’t really let anyone into. It was the ‘spare’ bedroom that wasn’t really a bedroom anymore. Five had only been in there a handful of times. It was known as her safe space, so Five respected that. But Artemis seemed to walk right inside. To say it made Five uneasy was an understatement. He didn’t know if she was allowed inside or not.
Five walked into the room and was greeted with bookshelves. It looked much different than the last time he saw it. The room wasn’t huge, maybe the average size of a square bedroom. Black bookshelves covered the walls with a desk sitting in the middle of the room planted on a rug. The only wall space not covered was a window with a tiny navy blue couch placed in front of it.
That’s where Artemis sat with a book in hand; she giggled at her uncle’s lost complexion, “ You haven’t been in here before, have you? “
“ I- I haven’t been in here a lot. “ Five replied in awe of the room, “ Aunt Y/n says she doesn’t let a lot of people in here. “ Artemis’ voice was soft and serene.
“ Yeah, it’s been a couple of months since I’ve been allowed in this room. “ He reminisced, “ Is this where you two talk? “
Artemis nodded, “ We talk a lot in here. This is where she works, and she shows me all her drafts. “
“ She works in here? “ Five queried, completely baffled, “ Mhm! You didn’t know? “ The young girl asked.
“ No, I- I didn’t know. “ He muttered, “ She’s not just an English teacher. She writes books in her spare time. “ Artemis smiled.
“ She does? “ Five spoke, “ Like how Vanya wrote her autobiography? “
“ Kind of. “ Artemis answered, “ She writes fiction novels. “
Five spun around the room, “ Can you show me? “
The young girl didn’t reply. Instead, she looked at Y/n’s desk sitting in the middle of the room. Under the rug laid a key which she picked up. Carefully she unlocked the bottom drawer on the left side of the desk, which held multiple different notebooks full of drafts and notes.
Artemis picked up a navy blue-bound notebook and handed it to him, “ This is her most recent stuff. “
Shocked and astonished at what his wife was hiding from him, he took the navy blue book. He took a spot on the rug sitting next to the open drawer while Artemis went back to reading on the couch. Her handwriting was elegant cursive that she taught herself how to do. The notebook was as messy as Five’s lesson plans for his college students. Nonetheless, he read on.
Life is a journey and full of different surprises. People from all around the world meet in the center for one leading cause. What occurs when tomorrow doesn’t happen? What is indeed on the other side? People tend to believe there’s an afterlife. Others think that it’s game over.
Brooklyn James takes a path into the unknown. A scared adolescent. She takes a brave step to find the answers for everyone. But at what cost? Prophecies advise and warn. People intrigued and fascinated.
When happens when both ends meet?
Five sat on the floor, entranced in her writing. He couldn’t believe his eyes. How has he never seen this before? How was she doing this without him noticing? Eventually, he closed the book and looked inside the drawer. Inside was an envelope with his name on it. Curiosity peaked, he took the envelope and opened it. Inside he found more writings, but all addressed to him. It even went back to the apocalypse.
It’s been about a month now. I was able to find some parchment and ink in an old book store. I can imagine they were selling for the aesthetic of old ways of writing. Thankfully I learned how to write with a quill, or perhaps this note would look like one big black blob. Five seems to be adjusting to me better. I’m scared of him. He’s terrifying.
We’re so different it hurts. He likes to express everything, and I don’t know how to feel about it. My entire life, I’ve been shut down to the point where talking feels like a fruitless effort. Maybe talking to him will help me. But I’m scared. What if he shuts me out as everyone else did.
This is so surreal. We’re stuck in an apocalyptic future—stupid healing powers. I wish I never healed myself sometimes. I didn’t know that after climbing out of my burnt house, this is what the world would look like. Five’s been a great help, though. Sometimes he takes my mind off things. At night he’ll ramble about the constellations, and I like learning about them.
Maybe he thinks I’m asleep or not listening because I don’t talk much, but I’ve learned a lot from him. He makes me want to be a teacher, step out of my comfort zone. I hope he becomes a teacher. He’d be a fantastic math professor.
He continued to read through until a voice made him jump, “ So, you’ve found my locked drawer. “
“ I- I didn’t- I didn’t mean- “ Five suddenly became a stuttering mess, “ I showed him. “ Artemis admitted.
Although Y/n wasn’t mad, Artemis cowered with her head, looking at the floor. Y/n’s voice never held anger, even when she was angry. Her voice was calming, soothing, and laced with honey. It was one of the reasons Five fell so in love with her.
“ Artemis, can you step out to the living room, please? “ She knelt before the girl giving her a tiny smile, “ You aren’t in trouble, my princess. I just want to talk to Five, okay? “
“ I’m- I'm sorry. “ The girl whimpered, and Y/n kissed her cheek gently, “ It’s okay, you aren’t in trouble. I’m not mad. I just need you to sit in the living room for a moment. “ Five stared in wonder at his wife comforting the tiny girl.
The young girl got the message and padded to the living room. Y/n stood up from her spot and stared at her guilty husband. His green eyes looked everywhere except for her e/c ones. He wanted her to yell or be angry with him, but she never was. No matter what, he couldn’t ever make her mad. Her patience were infinite.
“ I suppose you found what I’ve been working on. “ She stated, and Five nodded, “ And you saw my parchment from the apocalypse. “
“ I really didn’t mean to. “ He murmured, and she chuckled, “ You were going to have to find out sooner rather than later. “ Y/n replied.
Without warning, he was embraced. Her arms were wrapped around his torso while her head rested on his heart. The scent of her shampoo reached his nose, a glorious mix of honey and coconut he couldn’t ever get enough of. His arms gently wrapped themselves around her shorter frame while his chin perched on top of her head.
He kissed her hair gently, “ I didn’t mean to snoop. I’m sorry, love. “
“ Well, do you like it? “ She asked, “ Like what? “
“ My drafts, my room, my notes? “ Y/n listed, “ I love it because it’s who you are. “ Five replied softly.
He pulled away to meet her soft e/c eyes, “ This room is who you are as a person. If I had to describe you in one room, it’d be something along these lines. “
“ You aren’t mad I didn’t tell you? “ She whispered, and he shook his head, “ Never. We spent forty-five years together with no privacy because we didn’t have that. When you said you wanted this room to yourself, I didn’t hesitate to agree with you. “ His voice was soft like silk.
His green eyes glittered like gems, “ This is your private room, your safe place, and I shouldn’t be mad at you for wanting privacy. “
She kissed his cheek gratefully, “ Thank you. “
“ Anytime, darling. Anytime. “
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Midnight Quidditch Games | Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry Potter x Gryffindor!Reader (written with a female reader in mind, though the gender is not stated)
Wordcount: 3800 words
Warnings: none, just fluff and friends-to-lovers
Summary: Fred and George come up with the idea of hosting illegal Quidditch Games for all four houses every Friday night. Harry convinces Reader to play with him and they end up on the same broom.
a/n: No Voldemort Au, set in Harry's fifth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (Based on a headcanon by @/ murphcooper on tumblr)
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Friday was my favourite day of the week, and there were two reasons for that: One, it was the start of the weekend, and two, we played Quidditch.
Up until fifth year, the most I had to do with the popular wizarding sport was cheering at the official school games for the Gryffindor team and attending the Quidditch World Cup in 1994. Then Fred and George came up with a very illegal, yet very exciting and fun idea, which was to host unofficial Quidditch games in the middle of the night that any student could attend. Whether it were First Years who could barely fly, or simple people that never made it onto their house's team, anyone was welcome.
The twins had planned it the first two months of their sixth year together with Quidditch fans from the other houses and had created lists for every common room, which wouldn't be readable by the teachers or Filch.
“It's illegal! What if something happens? What if someone gets hurt, how do you want to explain that to Dumbledore, or worse, to Professor McGonagall,” Hermione argued as soon as Fred and George had prompted their idea to us one Sunday evening.
“I'm disappointed. Do you really think we would work that sloppy?”, Fred asked.
“The house elves are in,” George explained. “Which means free food and free healthcare, all in one!”
“Awesome,” Ron said, and he should be proven right.
The only rules to attend were the duty to remain silent and to come in your pyjamas, just for the sake of it. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws would be playing against Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, Lee Jordan would be commenting as always and because Madam Hooch wasn't available, Hermione would be our judge. This was decided unanimously.
The first two games had occurred at the end of November, and they had been a complete mess. We had to raise the number of players on each team so everyone who wanted to play fit in, which led to three Keepers, six Chasers, four Beaters and two Seekers for each house. Furthermore, there had been a dozen of first years who couldn't fly yet and who had to be taught by voluntaries.
Those first two Friday nights I had spent with Lee, Hermione, Luna and Dobby on the commentary stand, cheering and eating chocolate biscuits. Once in a while, I had thrown a biscuit in the air for Harry to catch.
Because of the bone-chilling cold and pitch-black darkness brought by the Scottish winter, Fred and George had invented glass bulbs which carried bright orange, warm fire and hovered over the Quidditch pitch.
With the first Friday of December approaching, the excitement grew bigger and it was basically the only topic during every meal. Now that the rules and positions had set and the First Years could fly, we were awaiting the first serious game – as serious as playing Quidditch in pyjamas with Hermione as a judge could be.
“You have to play, too,” Harry said to me during lunch on Friday. My friends had tried all week to persuade me to play instead of only keeping Hermione company, while I had constantly declined.
“Yes, come on,” Ron agreed. “We know you can fly, you played with us this summer.”
“No, no way.” I shook my head and pulled the pumpkin juice jug closer.
“Why not?”, Harry asked, covering my glass with his hand. I raised my eyebrows, but he only grinned, which made my stomach tingle. But I glossed over the unwanted feeling and shoved his hand away.
“Because all positions are filled. And besides that, I would be a terrible Chaser,” I answered. “Or a terrible anything, really.”
“You could play as a Seeker,” Hermione suggested and poured herself a drink. “You're good at noticing details.”
“But Harry and that boy from third year are playing as Gryffindor Seeker,” I reminded her, cutting my toast in half.
“You could fly with Harry,” She said plainly. I stared at her with wide eyes. I should had known the moment I had told Hermione about my not-so-tiny crush on Harry that it had been a bad idea. Now she did what I should had expected: Trying to set me up with him.
“No, I – no.”
“But I wouldn’t mind,” Harry said. “And if you don't like it, I can drop you off at the stands again. Come on Y/N, say yes.” He nudged my shoulder, looking at me with sweetest puppy eyes. I couldn't say no to him, he knew that. I sighed.
“Fine.”
A content smile lit up on his face. “Brilliant.”
Around half past nine, we made our way out of the castle and down to the Quidditch pitch. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, as well as a dozen other Gryffindor students had their brooms shouldered, following me and Hermione through the dimly lit corridors.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” I whispered, tapping the Marauders Map, which soon revealed Hogwarts’ grounds, ink lines flowing over the parchment. Filch was strolling around in his office, and so was Snape. McGonagall’s ink dot hovered in the East tower of the Fourth Floor. “Everything’s clear, but keep quiet,” I informed the others.
Hermione linked her arms with me.
“How are you?”, She asked, a knowing smile on her lips.
“Shut up. What was that at lunch?”
“Oh, come on, I just said what you were thinking. Everybody knows you have a thing for each other,” She said, and I quickly turned to make sure Harry was still talking to Dean and Ginny. Hermione chuckled. “I made a bet with Ginny that you will kiss after catching the Snitch together,” She added.
I swirled back around. “You what?”
“But Ginny thinks you'll snog in a broom closet afterwards.”
Before I could reply anything, Harry had caught up with us.
“What are you two whispering about?”, He asked, leaning closer so I could smell his deodorant.
“Nothing,” I said and was glad that the darkness hid my tinted cheeks. Hermione let herself fall back, leaving Harry and me alone at the front of the group.
“You're a terrible liar,” He said.
“Says you. Remember last year when we had detention with Snape –”
Harry wrapped his left arm around my shoulders, pulling me unintentionally closer, and placed his hand over my mouth to stop me from talking any further.
“You promised you'd take that to the grave.”
I grinned and pulled his hand away, though his arm stayed around me.
We made it out of the castle without any inconveniences, thanks to Peeves, who – on orders from the twins – created some chaos in the trophy room and distracted McGonagall.
We were the first to reach the pitch, and Harry unlocked the door under the stands with the key on the necklace around his neck, which led to the changing rooms and the spare brooms. Fred and George had stored the fire bulbs under a loose floorboard and were now freeing them so they could fly over the pitch. Hermione directed her wand towards the sky, sending out a Muffliato Charm, then winked at me and climbed up to the commentary stand with Lee.
In the meantime, the other houses arrived; the Hufflepuffs were followed by a tiny body of house elves carrying fast food on tablets over their heads. They spread over the stands, consorting with the students watching the game and providing them with hot meals and drinks.
“Welcome back everyone!”, Lee's voice echoed over the pitch and the crowd cheered. “And also welcome to everyone new here who wants to play or just likes to break the rules.”
“Hello from me too. We have some new players I want to introduce,” Hermione continued. “Marina Florence playing Keeper for Slytherpuff, Arthur Mitchell deputizing for Gryffinclaw’s Chaser Demelza Robbins, who is currently stationed in the hospital wing, and Y/N playing Seeker for Gryffinclaw together with Harry Potter.”
“That's ridiculous! Since when are we playing in pairs?!”, Draco yelled out of the crowd of Slytherin players.
“Since I'm making the rules, you daft idiot!”, Hermione called back, and laughing echoed over the field. Ron's language was clearly leaving a mark on her. “Now get on your brooms, everyone!”
“Make sure you don't slip off your broom in those silk pyjamas, Malfoy, ” Fred snickered loudly, and Draco held up his middle finger.
Slowly, the huge crowd of players on the pitch flew up into the air, positioning themselves on the right spots. I turned to Harry, who climbed on his broom. That was the part I had avoided to think about all afternoon: How would we fly on that thing together?
My heart drummed so loudly against my ribcage it was a miracle he couldn't hear it. We were friends, I reminded myself. And I would not ruin this friendship for the sake of some stupid feelings.
“Come on, Y/N,” Harry said, stretching out his hand. I grabbed it, and he helped me to climb onto his Firebolt, so that I was sitting in front of him. His fingers gripped around the broom stick, not very far from where I had placed my hands.
“You alright?”, He asked and I nodded.
“Brilliant,” I said, and he chuckled. He then wrapped his left arm around my waist before he kicked us off the ground and the Firebolt shot through the cold night air. My back got pressed against his chest, his knees squeezing my thighs, and out of shock, I held onto his arm around me.
I hadn't flown since last summer, and even then it had only been on Ron's old broomstick a few feet above the earth. This here was the complete opposite: Harry's Firebolt was a hundred times faster, and it barely took us three seconds to be the ones flying the highest over the stadium.
“I got you, everything's fine,” Harry said somewhere close to my ear as he had noticed my hand clenched around his arm, and a warm shiver ran down my spin. I looked down on the Quidditch pitch.
“It never looks that high when I’m down there,” I said.
“Are you afraid of heights?”, He asked, but I shook my head.
“No.” Not with you. I could feel his heart beating against my back and absently stroked over his hand on my waist, until Hermione's voice ripped me out of my thoughts.
“Okay, I want a fair game and no injuries, is that clear? And show some respect to the youngest players! Now ready, steady, GO!” With a wave of her wand, the trunk with the Quidditch balls snapped open and the Quaffle flew high into the air, followed by two Bludgers. For a short moment, I saw the Golden Snitch, then it rushed off into the darkness.
“So, what do we do now? Any secret strategies?”, I asked.
“No,” Harry answered, placing his chin on my shoulder. “We just wait and watch.”
A tingling warmth spread through my body at the subtle touch. Gently, Harry steered the broom around the pitch, while the others beneath us played.
“Katie wins the Quaffle – passes to Montgomery – Rick close to score, come on – YES, Gryffinclaw scores 10 points!”, Lee bellowed and loud applause erupted. “And Slytherpuff in possession – Blaise with the Quaffle – Josephine Gordon from Hufflepuff takes over, excellent Chaser that girl, and rather attractive – OW, I'm just stating facts!”
Hermione had smacked Lee on the back of his head.
“Anyways, Blaise in possession once again – now First Year Conan Ivory – Smith overtakes – and he scores. Ron, look at the Quaffle, not at Hermione – OW! – But Gryffinclaw still leads – Ginny overtakes – fights off some Slytherins – hey, careful Harry, Bludger coming your way –”
Harry quickly leaned over me and the Firebolt dropped a few meters, dodging the Bludger rushing over our heads. George (or Fred?) darted after the ball, calling a quick “Watch it, lovebirds!” at us, and hit the Bludger towards a Slytherin Chaser.
The other twin was close behind, shouting “Less snogging, more seeking!”
“Shut it!”, I yelled. For Merlin's sake, did everyone knew about my crush? Was it really that obvious for everyone except Harry? Not that I wanted him to find out – he would be embarrassed, he didn't think of us as anything other than friends.
Harry's arm slipped from my waist and he cleared his throat, but a broomstick did not provide much space, wherefore his chest was still pressed against my back and I could feel his rather fast heartbeat.
“Do you, uhm... want me to drop you off?”, He asked.
“Oh. Uh, no,” I said, trying to turn so I could face him, “I like it, but if you want to –”
“No! No, I just thought...” Harry’s eyes danced over my face like they had never before and we were quite close.
“ – Applebee has the Quaffle - and that's a score! Sixty to sixty!”, Lee called, and Hermione blew her silver whistle. I ripped my eyes off of Harry and looked down to the commentary stand. “Now, we’re gonna have a short break, because Dobby thinks you're gonna starve otherwise. All the first and second years are asked to go back to their dorms, because it's almost midnight – don't complain to me –”
Harry carefully steered his Firebolt back to the ground where he landed near Ron and Ginny. I climbed off and was glad to be spared an awkward conversation, because Ginny grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side of the pitch. The sudden loss of Harry's warm chest made me shiver.
“Now, have you ever thought about making out in a broom closet?”, She asked, a mischievous grin on her reddened face. I rolled my eyes at her.
“Hermione told me about the bet, so don't even try! No one's gonna make out in a broom closet,” I said.
“Except you and Harry,” Ginny replied. I opened my mouth to talk back, but was interrupted.
“What’s going on with you and Harry?” Cho had caught up to us, snatching a plate with fish and chips from a tablet an house elf carried through the crowd. “I have watched you, it's adorable, honestly.”
“First off, there's nothing to be adorable,” I said and stole a fry from her plate, “and second, you are supposed to watch the Snitch, not us.”
“So is Harry, but he only has eyes for you.” Cho smiled and tapped my nose with her finger. Ginny giggled and ate a piece of fried fish. In the same moment, Hermione breathlessly jogged up to us.
“What – were – you – waiting – for?”, She panted. I furrowed my brows.
“Huh?” Hermione sighed and shook her head.
“You were this close to kiss him, why didn't you do anything?”
“Is my love life this much more interesting the Quidditch game?!”
All three girls answered “Yes” in union.
“But he doesn't feel the same way for me!”, I argued. “We are friends –”
Ginny grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around. “Do friends look at each other that way? I don’t think so.”
Harry stood a few feet away with Ron, Seamus and Dean, though he seemed not to listen to their conversations and instead stared over at us. At me. When he realised he had been caught, he waved shyly and almost spilled his pumpkin juice. I waved back at him before turning to the girls again, all of whom were looking temporising at me.
“Oh, I – I don't know. Even if you're right, I can't just kiss him out of nowhere on his broom.”
“No, you gotta snog him in a broom closet so I get my Galleon,” Ginny said smugly, and Hermione nudged her with her elbow and looked at her watch, before blowing her whistle again.
“Everyone back on their positions, break's over!” Then Hermione shot me a serious look. “Get the boy, we're all done of you pining over one another. Ron can get the other boys to crash somewhere else, if you need the dorm.”
“Hermione!”, I gasped, but she was already rushing back to the commentary stand.
“Good luck,” Cho said, and Ginny winked. I glared at them before making my way over to where the Gryffindor boys stood. I saw how Ron said something to Harry, patted his shoulder and flew off.
Harry turned to me, smiling. His hair was even messier than usual due to the wind, and he had put on a black hoodie over his pyjamas. He looked cute and hot at the same time, and I couldn't quite believe that he was supposed to like me back.
“Do you want to – or?”, He asked.
“Yeah,” I smiled and he got on his Firebolt, making space in front of him for me.
“Good. I mean –” He cleared his throat as I climbed on his broom. The next second, we were high up in the air, his chest against my back again.
“Okay, guys, game's on again! Go!”, Hermione shouted and waved her wand at the Quaffle, which flew upwards and was caught by Ginny instantly.
“And we're back – Katie passes the Quaffle to Valentina – She flawlessly dodges a Bludger – Back to Peters, almost made it onto the Ravenclaw team – and he scores! SEVENTY TO SIXTY.”
I took a deep breath and leaned back against Harry, watching the game unfold. He propped his chin back onto my right shoulder, like an unspoken routine.
“I think I'm gonna play again next Friday,” I said out of the blue.
“Really?”, He asked, sounding surprised. I smiled. The crowd underneath us cheered.
“Yes. If you save me a place on your broomstick.” I turned to look at him, and he smiled brightly at me. We were as close as earlier, maybe even closer. I held my breath, until I noticed something small and golden buzzing through the air behind Harry, illuminated by one of the fire bulbs.
“There!” I pointed at the Golden Snitch, and Harry's head spun around to assure himself.
“Do you trust me?”, He asked.
“Of course,” I replied. Instantly, his hand was back around my waist and he yanked the Firebolt around.
“ – Seamus throws the Quaffle to Dean – Dean passes Nott – and he scores! NINTHY TO EIGHTY FOR GRYFFINCLAW! And Potter seems to have spotted the Snitch, Draco, Cedric and Cho close behind – Come on, show them what that Firebolt can do!”, Lee's voice roared from somewhere deep down, but my eyes were glued onto the Snitch: It whirred through the ice cold December air and up to the left ring of the Slytherpuff team.
Malfoy had almost caught up to us; even though the Firebolt was the fastest broomstick on the market, it was obviously slower when carrying two people instead of one.
The Snitch twirled around the pole, then dropped down and headed for the floor. Harry followed, and now we where almost vertically flying downwards. Because of the sudden shift of direction, I swore loudly and clenched my hands tighter around the broom.
“I won't let you fall, I promise,” Harry called over air rushing past us.
“I know, but a warning would have been nice!”, I yelled back, and he chuckled.
The weight of two people on one broomstick also meant that we got dragged downwards way faster, which meant we were outdistancing Malfoy. The Golden Snitch took a sharp right turn and now buzzed two meters above the ground to the other side of the pitch.
“You have to catch it!”, Harry yelled.
“WHAT? No, I can't –”
“Yes, you can! I have to steer!” And hold you. But he did not say that. I swore under my breath and carefully loosened one hand from the broomstick, stretching it forward. The Snitch was inches away from my fingertips and I pushed myself up, Harry's grip around my mid tightening. The silver wings touched my fingers, I stretched my arm further and in the same moment my hands clasped around the tiny, golden ball, we fell forward.
“ – And that doesn't look – Oh, Potter and Y/L/N are on the ground. I can't really see, if someone caught the Snitch –”
As one tangled mess, we landed on the frozen lawn, rolling over one another and stopping with Harry half on top of me. My whole body ached and I would definitely get bruises from the fall, but that was something I could worry about later. I caught the Snitch!
“Shit, sorry, fuck. Y/N, are you alright?” Harry's face hovered over me, a bloody scratch on his cheek. I grinned happily and held up the golden ball.
“Yeah, more than alright.”
“Y/N caught the Snitch! TWOHUNDRED AND FORTY TO EIGHTY! Gryffinclaw wins!”, Lee bellowed and the crowd cheered and applauded loudly. Harry held out one hand to help me up, and I took it.
“I'm sorry, I know I promised, but I couldn't hold you any longer and –”
“Shut up.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. My hands found their way into his raven hair, and he hugged my waist, pulling me so tightly his fingers almost touched his own rips with the opposite hand. I kissed him, and he was kissing me back; it felt like someone had lit a firework in my heart, and for one marvellous moment, we were the only two people in the whole wide world.
Then the other players landed on the field, and we broke apart, catching our breaths. We were both grinning, and I felt drunk from the cold night and catching the Snitch and kissing Harry.
The raven haired boy bent down to kiss me once more, this time softer, and he intertwined our fingers before leading us over to our friends, where Ginny flicked a Galleon into Hermione's open hand.
“Took you long enough,” Ron said, who had both his and Harry's broomstick shouldered.
“Well, they got around in the end,” Cho added, leaning against Cedric, his chin propped on her head. “Sleepover at the Ravenclaw dorm?”, She added, and we all nodded in agreement.
While Fred, George and Lee collected the fire bulbs and Quidditch balls, and the house elves cleaned up the dirt with a snap of their fingers, we made our way back to the Hogwarts castle:
Ron alongside Hermione, followed by Seamus and Dean arm-in-arm, Cho with Cedric, one arm around her waist, Ginny carrying a tired Luna on her back, and lastly, Harry and me, holding hands.
“You know, I'm glad I agreed to play with you,” I said. Harry smiled.
“Yeah, me too.” He pressed a kiss on my cheek. In spite of the shivering cold, I had never felt more warm and comfortable than in this moment.
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nanatsumu · 3 years
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HIGH SCHOOL!SUKUNA x F!READER
thinking about bad boy itadori sukuna who all the kids at school try to steer clear from because they know he’s bad news and if you get involved with him then you’re bound to be tied with bad luck for as long as he lives. well, that is everyone except for the president of the student council who so happens to be his childhood best friend turned lover.
this is mostly written for my own self indulgence and to project my fantasies of having a boyfriend onto sukuna but feel free to treat this as any other headcanon! ps i am pretty sure canon sukuna would kill a baby at any given situation, but this is going to be a revamped version of sukuna written by yours truly ;) and its a high school au so sukuna won’t be a complete menace to society and will actually have a heart heh
also i didn’t realize how long this was going to be??? this is kind of all over place too because i just wanted to throw all of my thoughts onto this post so there might be some plot holes in this LOL
i feel like sukuna would be the type of bad boy who isn’t necessarily a bad boy but everyone at school just paints him as some kind of delinquent because of all the tattoos and piercings he has.
he actually shows up to school more often than you think he would (but that’s only because you’re in most of his classes so long story short: you’re his only motivation for attending class)
“forgets” to bring his work books to class more than usual (in reality he does this on purpose so he has an excuse to be near you) so he requests to sit next to you the entire class period so he can share with you for the meantime but whenever the teachers not looking he’ll go back to admiring your face.
his older twin brother, itadori yuji, is very fond of you since you three grew up together and you both had your chances of being a victim to his antics!
exhibit a: in middle school when you and yuji were watching tv together, the show you two were watching would keep switching to some wrestling match broadcasting on a sports channel and no matter how many times you turned the tv on and off, it just would not stop. but it wasn’t until you heard snickering from the kitchen that you realized sukuna had a spare remote and was the mastermind behind the whole thing.
exhibit b: sukuna and yuji’s mom was the owner of a bakery so every now and then she would have either one of the twins come deliver freshly baked pastries to your household! oh how wrong was she to trust her youngest. sukuna was now a freshman in high school, and by now you would’ve thought that sukuna would have grown out of his childish phase, but WRONG! sukuna was still a menace in your life even past childhood. so when you bit into one of the macaroons, instead of being hit with the overwhelming taste of [favorite flavor], all you could feel was the burning sensation of wasabi kicking into your tastebuds.
yeah after the whole wasabi macaroon freak accident, you stopped accepting everything sukuna offered to you and opted to only eating pastries out of the boxes that yuji delivered to you. (sukuna eventually caught onto this and was just TEENSY bit upset but he would rather down a whole tube of wasabi than to tell you upfront)
now, how did you two even end up dating??? oh boy now that is a story
you see, yours and sukuna’s dynamic growing up was similar to that of tom and jerry’s— you being jerry and sukuna being 10x worse than tom of course
but it wasn’t until a confession after school behind the cherry blossom tree that was known for bringing good luck to successful confessions that sukuna finally realized that maybe he really did like you just a little lot bit
sukuna overheard the boy who was planning on confessing to you talking to his friend group about how “sweet and caring” you are (although sukuna could argue otherwise, you were a little brat. *LIKE HELLO?!&:&:& YOU WEREN’T THE ONE WHO ATE A MACAROON FILLED WASABI**) and obviously his ears perked up at the mention of your name. he grew up with you after all so naturally he would be interested in a conversation that revolved around you.
but then the boys started going on about how “you looked like an easy catch” and how “your body was bangin’!” yeah no, that’s where he drew the line. sure sukuna was an ass and talked shit about you most of the time (in his defense it wasn’t like he was doing it behind your back) but if he ever caught someone else talking about you like that then he would be sure to give them a hard time.
he hid behind one of the bushes near the cherry blossom tree while the boy was professing his love for you. funnily enough, for a moment sukuna forgot why he was originally there because he was too busy trying to stifle a laugh as he watched the boy stumble over his words.
“okay shows over” sukuna thought as the confession was reaching its conclusion, but just as he was about to step in and give the poor boy a piece of his mind, he stopped in his tracks when he heard you roaring with laughter.
“did you really think that i wouldn’t hear about what you and your friends said about me earlier? you’re really pathetic if you think any girl would be easy enough to fall to her knees for you because news flash! you’re a disgusting pig and you deserve to rot in hell for speaking about a girl’s worth like that.”
“it’s kind of sad too, i thought you were a nice boy and i probably would have given you a chance but it seems like you’re even worse than scum! damn it, to think there was somebody out there who’s even worse than sukuna.”
of course sukuna was not pleased to hear that last bit, but he did have a proud grin forming on his face as he watched the boy run away, flustered from your rejection and the embarrassment he was put through.
“sukuna i know you’re hiding behind the bush.”
“huh? i came here way before you got here, there’s no way you could have seen me.” he said as he stood up to his full height.
“well, your laughter isn’t exactly the quietest, plus i can spot that hair of yours from a mile away.”
lets just say, sukuna was glad you didn’t ask him what he was doing there because he wasn’t sure if he could spare the embarrassment of telling you that he was planning on ruining the confession.
after that whole fiasco happened, sukuna started to feel(!&:&::&) things
like he started to notice how you styled your hair differently one day and how you switched to a new perfume that smelled like spearmint (was that weird? for sukuna probably not. he just excuses it as being highly observant)
you weren’t dumb either, you had a feeling sukuna was there that day of the confession because he too had overheard the conversation between the boy and his friends as well (you knew he was prideful and if you brought it up then he probably would’ve denied it)
so from there on out it was just mutual pining at the point except... well.... not really??
i feel like it was just an unspoken agreement between you two that you guys were “together” but not “together together” because he started to treat you differently than he would before. like for example, he’d carry your bag for you whenever you guys would walk home (yuji was confused by this at first because if anything, it would have made more sense to see sukuna make you carry HIS bag, but he eventually caught on to sukuna’s feelings for you because they were twin brothers after all), he started walking you to class more often even though his class was all the way on the other side of the school (you asked him why but he just shrugged and said he was just “killing time” so that he wouldn’t have to go to class and then you ended up scolding him), and there was also that one time you miraculously found a $20 bill in your backpack after mentioning to sukuna that there was this cute top you saw at the mall the other day but didn’t have enough money at the time to purchase it (you asked him about this but he said it was probably yuji, but you didn’t want to pry any further since you wanted to cherish the fact that sukuna cared that much)
but eventually you got sick of this whole push and pull game that you physically had to tug the collar of his school uniform and pull him in for a kiss (he was visibly shocked at this because he never would’ve imagined you as the assertive type. not that he was complaining though)
“oya? didn’t think you liked me this much kitten.” he said laughing while you rolled your eyes.
“as if, i got tired of you being a wuss so one of us had to wear the pants in the relationship.” you snorted, causing him to irk.
to be honest, your relationship with him is smooth sailing because you both were pretty chill people and you didn’t have to worry about him sneaking behind your back to see other girls because 1. literally all the girls at school are terrified of him and 2. he knew what you were capable of doing to him if you were to ever catch him cheating on you so he wants to stay on your good side
jealous and possessive don’t exist in his dictionary because he is the epitome of those two words. remember what i said about how your relationship is smooth sailing? i kinda lied.
he’s easily jealous like for example: when you were in english class and the teacher had you guys jot down some notes, you realized you forgot to ask for your pencil back when you lent it to your friend last period.
so you asked sukuna to borrow a pencil but instead of giving you a pencil, he called you an idiot for being so forgetful.
this makes you mad so you turn to your male classmate since he was sitting on your opposite side and ask him for a pencil instead.
sukuna was practically fuming the entire class period and once the day ended and you two were back at your place, he made sure to mark you real good. (oh he also went out to buy a pack of mechanical pencils to sneak into your backpack so that next time you forget your pencils, you’ll have 10 extra pencils sitting in your backpack as backup)
he’s not a big fan of pda in public, but on the chances he will show some of it, the most he will do is wrap an arm around your shoulder or waist whenever some dude is trying to hit on you.
BUT IN PRIVATE? better buckle up because your in for a ride wink wink
really likes putting hickeys on you to a fault! but will never put any visible ones on your neck because he doesn’t want your parents to view him as some kind of animal (but he has nothing to worry about because your parents really like him and are grateful for the fact that he’s very loyal to you, and you guys grew up together so it’s only natural that your parents are accepting of him since they already know he has a good heart underneath that tough facade of his)
oh, and yuji starts learning how to knock whenever you come over (or shuts himself in his room for the meantime if he thinks it’s unsafe to step out of his room) because chances are, you’re probably making out with sukuna in his room or smth.
now onto the spicy stuff
when you and sukuna first started dating, the first thing you told him was that you weren’t ready to have sex yet because you were nervous and sukuna understood and told you that he was willing to wait for whenever you were ready.
but when you were ready though, it was kind of spontaneous and you weren’t even wearing a matching pair of bra and underwear that day
you two were chilling in your room watching some stupid (according to sukuna) animal documentary when suddenly you felt his hand on your thigh
dating sukuna and all, it was normal for him to have his hands on some part of your body (whether it be your thigh or your waist) while you two were in bed.
but you were feeling a bit bolder HORNEE than usual so you began to leave a hot trail of kisses starting from his jaw all the way down to his neck.
sukuna obviously got the memo but before those kisses could escalate into something more daring, he asked you once more if you were completely sure you wanted to do it and once you gave him the green light, he was quick to tug his shirt over his head and pounce on you.
he started getting really into it though and accidentally bit your thigh which made you loose your high and scold him for it, but he let out a hearty laugh and muttered a quick apology before getting back into business
sike i lied, remember what i said about it being spontaneous? yeah, you technically didn’t loose your virginity to him that day because after he finished prepping you, you both came to a realization that you didn’t have a condom.
oh well, there’s always next time!
i think sukuna is a sucker for pet names: his favorite thing to call you is either kitten or princess and that’s it LOL he finds calling you baby or babe is a bit too cheesy for him
but he likes it when you call him baby or babe ;)
date nights consist of either staying in and cuddling in his room, going out for a walk at night (but very very late though. there’s still lamp posts that guide your way through the streets but it gives you the heebie jeebies to be out walking outside so late. sukuna always reminds you that nothing bad will happen as long as he’s right by your side), or just spending time with you and your families.
but if you’re really down to do it, he’ll probably initiate a make out session that’ll lead to y’all fucking one way or another (he only ever does it if he is 100% sure that you’re feeling it because he knows you get easily embarrassed if he asks you straight up)
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(this part is mainly written for me because i love the idea of sukuna being over at family functions, but it can be applied as part of the general hc heh) if you took him to any of your family functions as your plus one for the first time, all the aunts and uncles would be a bit wary of him at first due to all of the tattoos and piercings he has (sukuna swears he has never felt so self conscious before) but after they strike up a conversation with him and find out that he’s actually a good guy who knows what he wants to do in the future and is very loyal to you, they start to like him more.
your little cousins adore him and love it when he comes over because sukuna is a very tall high schooler which makes him the perfect candidate as a monkey bar
so when you noticed that all the little ones started to climb on his body and mess around with his hair, you were quick to react because you knew your boyfriend was easily irritable which prompted you to think he hated kids
but there was nothing to worry about because when you saw him playing around with them and even crack a smile, you felt your heart grow fuzzy at the sight and you knew right then and there that you wanted to stick by sukuna’s side for the rest of your life
and in the unfortunate circumstances that sukuna is too busy to make it to one of your functions, the first thing everyone asks is “where’s your boyfriend?” or “where’s ‘kuna? i wanna play with him!”
so you have to facetime him and let him know that everyone is wondering where he is (your phone is dead by the end of the night because after the adults get their turn at saying hi to your boyfriend, the kids snatch your phone and end up talking to him for the rest of the night)
but in conclusion, everyone is waiting for the day he gets on one knee to propose to you and your parents are itching to get to get call sukuna their son-in-law :))
also don’t forget that your parents want two grandchildren: one boy and one girl!
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youngcollectedtired · 3 years
Text
Class 1-a x New Student Reader
I wrote this to go along with a quirk I made for myself. I'd already made a quirk for a character who's gonna be paired with Kirishima so this is basically just if I was in MHA. It's still an x reader so enjoy. This story is mainly for fun and practice so I can get to know the class 1-a characters for my newest book. It may or may not turn into an actual book.
I just wanna say if I could draw this would probably be in a comic book. But I cannot draw so here we are. Also I haven't read the manga
Warnings? Mineta being a perv
Pairings? Possibly Sero or Todoroki or Shinso... or literally any of the guys I'm in love and i have a problem
Part 1/?
Quirk? It's complicated but based on the chronic illness called Lupus
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You'd heard rumors about how easily Class 1-a attracted trouble. This made you feel better about yourself, but it also made you feel bad. You too had your fair share of trouble run ins. Being sister to the leader of the league villains left you with many watchful eyes in the underground world.
Few heroes knew of your relation and even fewer knew of your quirk. Your mentor, Hawks thought the safest place for you to be was UA. Yes, they'd had a run-in or two with villains, but because of it, they were the most capable to defend and fight with you. And Eraserhead it seemed was a great teacher, maybe he could help you learn to control it.
It was false hope, you knew that. Still, you were excited to meet your new classmates.
"Alright, class we've got a new student. Today's morning lesson will be replaced with you helping her settle in and getting to know her," you could hear Mr. Aizawa's voice from the hallway. He sounded bored and tired almost, but you assumed that was just his nature.
You heard excited chatter and that caused the nerves to worsen.
The principal Mr. Nezu smiled, "Don't worry they’ll like you."
You nodded your head, your fingers pulling at and adjusting your tie. You liked the school uniform, the skirt was shorter than you thought it would be that was an easy fix. Knee-waisted white socks with two red stripes on the top made you feel better.
The door opened and you entered. Aizawa barely glanced at you before nodding to Principle Nezu, "I'm leaving her in your trusted hands." You could hear the door attempting to close behind you which forced you forward. You felt every eye on you.
"This is Y/N L/N," he gestured to you. You'd forgotten your last name was changed, the Tomura sure to drag attention.
You bowed deeply.
"Hello, sorry to barge in your class. Nice to meet you."
You could hear whispers and you unconsciously touched your white horn, one on another side of your head. They were filed down to about two inches, still noticeable in your curly hair. You knew the grey streaks in your hair and in your eyes would cause many questions.
A boy with green hair raised his hand quickly, "What's your quirk?" He asked his eyes sparkling it seemed like.
You bit your lip but before you could answer Mr. Aizawa cleared his throat, "You're all dismissed. I expect her moved in by lunch, you have combat training this afternoon."
A girl with pink hair and yellow horns shook her fist excitedly, "YES! Feels like forever since we've had a lesson like that." Everyone stood up, while Mr. Aizawa slumped into his seat his eyes closing as he rested his head on his desk. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
"Don't worry, he does that a lot. I'm Uraraka," one of the girls said and you immediately put her name to her face.
"Nice to meet you," you beamed.
"She's so cute! I'm Mina," the girl with pink skin and yellow horns yelled excitedly.
"Hi! Thank you," you bowed slightly, causing her to shake her head wildly, "Don't bother we're all the same here! I'll introduce you to everyone."
On the way to the dorms, you found easy ways to remember everyone. Somehow each name fit a person. Plus you'd recognized a few people from the sports festival. You were thankful none of them asked personal questions, instead they choose to get to know you on the surface.
"Is your hair naturally that color?" "Yes, it changed its color when I was 6." "Do you play any instruments?" "Kind of, but I can paint better!" "Are you a good fighter?" "I'd like to think so but I guess we'll see this afternoon."
You also began to piece together the groups of close friends, the rivals, and even those who shared certain hobbies or hardships.
"You look nice in a skirt," Mineta complimented a smirk on his face, his mouth-watering. You knew his intentions, still glaring at him seemed to do nothing until Bakugo stepped in front of him his hand filling with small puffs of smoke.
"Thanks," you mumbled as you adjusted your skirt attempting to pull it down.
Bakugo let out a gruff, "Whatever," and joined his group of friends' hands tucked in his pocket.
"Sorry about him," Tsu stepped up next to you, "Mineta is our resident pervert. Be careful around him."
You nodded in thanks.
Your room had most of your bigger things moved in, you figured that was Hawks doing. On your bed were a few pictures clipped together with some picture frames, and journals.
The only thing you had to do was hang your clothes up, fix your desk and put your pictures up. The girls all volunteered, the boys cleaning around the dorm to make you feel more at home.
You hid the pictures figuring you'd go through them later tonight. Besides, being pictured next to a number 2 hero would definitely turn some heads.
"Your Japanese is good but it doesn't sound like your first language," Momo began as the girls made their way down to the common room, "What is your first language?"
You chuckled, "You're very observant, my first language was English, then Japanese, and then Russian," you explained.
Cue excited boys and curious girls.
Denki grinned, "Wow how did you learn?!"
Before you could answer, the bell rang the dorm common room almost seemed to shake. You decided it was only because it was your first time hearing it.
"Come on Dunce face, you'll get your answer at lunch," Bakugo grunted the first to make his way towards the doors leading out of the dorms.
No one argued with him food also on their minds and stomachs.
I hope I can fit in well, you thought to yourself grateful for Mina and Uraraka both of them explaining different things to you. Whether or not you knew what they were you were happy all the same.
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wizkiddx · 3 years
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heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕
ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:
Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader
implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox
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Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now. 
You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too. 
However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy. 
In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English. 
Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.
“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response  Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke. 
So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that. 
Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her. 
Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest. 
“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over. 
“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“
“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language. 
“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly. 
Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak. 
“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing. 
With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly. 
“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.
“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors. 
“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”
“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”
“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest. 
“Oh come here my little bean.”
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When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay. 
It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together. 
But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions. 
So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately. 
“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”
“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes. 
“I hate you, you know that right?” 
“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it. 
“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.” 
Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction. 
“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”
“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”
“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”
“I really don’t think I could ev-“
“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”
It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat. 
“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed  his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees. 
“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”
“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips. 
“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous. 
“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.
“Fine, how was your day love.”
“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”
That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.
“Oh darling… you have no idea.”
273 notes · View notes
five-rivers · 3 years
Text
Danger First
Chapter 6
@pocketramblr another :)
.
Shouta trudged back to the staff break room. His counseling session with Midoriya had lasted a little over an hour, so while there were still teachers in the building, many of them had left. With the exception of semi-retired heroes like Recovery Girl, everyone working here had two full time jobs. Hizashi, despite his carefree air, had even more than that in the form of his radio show. Hizashi had probably left with the students.
But Hizashi wasn't either of the ones he wanted to talk to. Not today.
He opened the door. Three, no, four teachers were there, but Snipe didn't count, seeing as he was completely passed out on one of the couches with his gas mask half off. He must have had an early shift patrol today, poor sucker.
Nemuri was there, too, with most of her hero outfit on. She was applying her hero-grade makeup (water proof, resistant to three common contact poisons, and guaranteed not to react badly with mace).
More importantly, Kan and Yagi were both there, poring over papers on the same desk, no less. Shouta walked up to the table and looked down at sheets and sheets full of incomprehensible numbers.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"We-"
'Don't tell him!" said Kan, urgently. "This is going to be my class's leg up on Aizawa this time around."
"Haha! Good one!" Yagi slapped Kan's back, and apparently even in his skeletal form he could pack a punch, because Kan had the air knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Yagi continued, "I'm making personalized nutrition plans for his class!"
"What?"
"One of my undergraduate degrees was in nutritional and health sciences, after all!"
Wow, there was a lot to unpack there, but Shouta was more than happy to leave it in its box. He had other fish to fry and topics to interrogate. Small talk requirement fulfilled, he moved on.
"How well do you know Midoriya?"
Yagi blinked and put down his pencil. "Moderately so? We met about this time last year and have been meeting regularly since then."
So, so much to unpack.
"Why?"
"Ah, he... impressed me, I suppose? He was involved in the bodysnatcher incident last year."
That was an understatement.
"He had a lot of heroic spirit!" continued Yagi. "But... not so much in the, ah, body category. I thought it would be a shame, a waste, really, if he wasn't able to pursue his dream, and a hero school prep course wasn't really in the cards for him, considering his quirk status and the timing... And I did have this degree..." He waved his hands vaguely at the table. "I just gave him a little help."
"What brought all this on, anyway?" asked Nemuri. "Midoriya is the little green haired kid, right? One of Chibiida's new friends?"
"If you keep calling him that, I won't be held responsible for when he snaps and attempts murder. But, yes, that's Midoriya."
"So...?"
"He told me I was the best teacher he'd ever had."
Nemuri started laughing.
"Oh," said Yagi. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along so well."
"I think he's pulling your leg, Shouta," said Nemuri, coming over to pat him on his shoulder. "Man, I didn't think a friend of Chibiida's would have it in him. Such youth!"
"I cannot even begin to tell you how much he wasn't."
Nemuri's laughter died off.
"Judging from some comments he made today," said Shouta, "not to mention the discrepancies between his record and his observed behavior in the classroom, I'd say he's been the target of severe quirkism in the past, particularly from his teachers. Did he ever mention anything like that to you?"
Yagi's face darkened and the mood in the room grew much more somber. "Not in so many words, no. However... some of his comments about his teachers disturbed me enough to bring it to the attention of the Musutafu Educational Services District, but as an unrelated stranger without concrete proof..."
("You can use the acronym, you know," muttered Vlad.)
"You're telling me they ignored the number one hero."
Yagi made a face. "I didn't go to them as All Might. Can you imagine the media frenzy if I did that? I didn't want to paint that kind of target on young Midoriya's back."
That was fair, actually. If largely-anonymous Shouta had enemies, All Might had ten times as many. Not to mention supposed fans.
"Other avenues of inquiry were also fruitless," said All Might, countenance darkening. "I asked some of my police colleagues, but they don't have full discretion over the direction of their investigations, and, again, if I were to use my weight to move them... It would get out, and people would wonder why I was so concerned with an apparently normal middle school."
"Did you try talking to Nezu about it?"
"No? Why?"
Shouta reminded himself that although Yagi was an alumnus, he was also very new as a teacher, and was as of yet unfamiliar with Nezu's more interesting traits.
"I'm going to," said Shouta, "and you're going to come with me." He turned to Kan. "Have you heard anything from Bakugo about quirk discrimination?"
"All I've heard from him are explosions, threats, and some kind of complex I don't have nearly enough psychiatric training to- They're from the same school," he realized.
"Yeah."
Kan pinched his brow. "So, the sweet shy kid you keep gushing about-" Both Shouta and Yagi attempted to reassure Kan they weren't gushing, "-and the demon brat are from the same school."
"That is what their records say," agreed Shouta. "Did you know, Yagi?"
"Oh, that they knew each other? Yes. Actually, I was rather under the impression they were childhood friends, as Midoriya ran out to help him during the bodysnatcher incident."
Shouta grunted. It was possible. He hadn't seen the two of them interact, at any rate.
"I'm going to Nezu with you," said Kan, standing up. "No matter what else this hell school did, they deserve to suffer for inflicting Bakugo Katsuki on me with those recommendations full of lies."
"Why don't you just expell him if he's that bad?"
"Because he's talented, hardworking, and hasn't actually broken any rules except for the swearing. He's just a pain I wasn't prepared to deal with and will probably contribute more to my hearing loss than Yamada by the end of the year."
"Wait, wait," said Yagi. "What exactly are you expecting Nezu to do in this situation?"
"Well," said Nemuri, who still hadn't left yet, "let's just say there's a reason hid name is 'god' in the staff group chat."
.
Terrible did not even begin to describe how Izuku felt when he woke up. His skin was static. His mouth was dry in a way that hurt. It felt like a siren was going off in his brain, and also like it was too quiet. He wanted to both run all the way to the school and hide in his closet.
This, of course, left him paralyzed in bed.
He hadn't felt remotely like this since the first time someone had left spider lilies on his desk at school. What was wrong with him?
No, that was the wrong question. All signs pointed to him having Danger Sense. He was in danger. And also immobile in bed.
With a great deal of effort, he turned to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. The clock in the corner read 4:42. Far too early to call anyone. And yet...
With shaky fingers, he navigated to Mr. Yagi's contact information and pressed dial. To Izuku's surprise, it only rang once.
"Young Midoriya? Is something wrong?"
The sound of his voice loosened the terrible knot under Izuku's breastbone. "I- May-maybe? I don't- I don't know, I think so."
There were sounds of movement on the other side of the line. "What happened?"
"I just- just woke up, and I- I think it's Danger Sense. It- Something bad is going to happen."
"I'm on my way. Is your mother with you?"
"N-no. She's at a- at a tech conference in Tokyo. She won't be back until- until tomorrow. Mr. Yagi, I don't- I don't think it's something here. I think it's later... at the school."
There was a pause. "My boy, are you quite sure?"
Izuku's laugh was just a little hysterical. "I mean, I'm- I'm pretty new to this, but..." he'd like to think his flight or fight reflex would have a more constructive response to am immediate threat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you up, I should have waited-"
"Nonsense! Forewarned is forearmed, and time is one of the most valuable resources a hero can have! I'm still picking you up, I'll just-" Mr. Yagi coughed, "-take the car instead."
"The car? You mean Hercules!?" The excitement was enough to free Izuku from his paralysis and propel him into a sitting position.
"Well, yes, but, my boy, how did you know? I don't think I've ever mentioned the name in my interviews..."
"But you did! In one of your American interviews. It was for a local station and you and Mr. Shield were on together."
"But those were in English."
"I know! When I found out about them, it really motivated me to work on my English! I think I could probably pass the Level Two fluency test..."
"Young Midoriya, have I ever told you how glad I am that you aren't a villain?"
.
"Hikage, did Danger Sense ever make you feel this bad?" asked Nana as Yoichi fussed in the background.
"Super Anxiety made me feel this bad all the time. Sometimes, it made me feel worse. I got used to it."
Nana let out a sigh of relief. It sucked to Ninth right now, but if it was normal for the quirk...
"That's good, then," said En. "Not for Ninth, obviously, but if that's just how the quirk works, he'll be able to figure it out. What did it usually mean, when you felt like this?"
"Generally, that someone was planning on killing me in the next few hours."
Dead(er than usual) silence.
"Ah," said En.
"You know," said Nana, "sometimes the kinds of lives we led slips my mind, but then the universe is always real happy to turn around and slap it back into me."
Yoichi started screeching.
.
"Do you feel any worse now that we're here?" asked Mr. Yagi after shutting Hercules down.
"Not really," said Izuku. He slumped down in his seat and looked away. "I'm sorry, I dragged you out of bed and this is probably just a stupid pointless meaningless panic attack..." He felt tears begin to prick at the edges of his eyes. He was so stupid. And selfish. All Might could be out helping people right now. Or taking care of himself (which, according to Recovery Girl's comments during their training sessions, he didn't do nearly enough of).
"Hey, hey, there's no need to cry, it's alright."
"Because you're here?" asked Izuku with a sniffle.
"Well, yes, but also, even if it was 'just' a panic attack, I'd still want to be here for you." He reached across the central console to pat Izuku on the shoulder. Then his face twisted into something rather sheepish. "But on the subject of panic attacks, something did occur to me on the way here."
Izuku looked back down at his knees. "What is it?"
"This is the anniversary of the day we met."
Izuku... had known that, actually. Waking up as he had had driven it from his mind, but the date was marked on his calendar. He'd even gotten All Might a gift, although he hadn't yet talked himself into being brave enough to give it to him, and with what happened today, it would most likely languish in his desk drawer for an indefinite period of time as the idea of giving it became progressively more awkward.
"My boy? I can't quite make out what you're saying. You're mumbling."
Izuku clapped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry."
"It's quite alright. I'm just an old man with hearing problems."
"You're not old! It's... I just- I just don't see how- how that's connected to this." He gestured at himself in all his vaguely-trembling glory.
"Young Midoriya... you almost died three separate times that day. That's traumatic. And sometimes anniversaries are... reminders."
"I only almost died once?"
"The first time with the sludge villain, grabbing on to my leg- and I don't think I ever apologized for telling you to let go, I was just so surprised- and then the sludge villain again."
"But I only almost died the first time..." He trailed off as Mr. Yagi gave him a look. He'd thought his mother was the only one who could give looks like that... "Do you really think this is connected to that?"
"I don't know," said Mr. Yagi. "Do you feel like it might be?"
"I don't know," said Izuku. He bent over and knotted his fingers in his hair.
"Do you think it might help to stay home today?"
"No!" yelped Izuku. "No," he repeated, trying to calm his racing heart.
"Alright, alright. Never fear, my boy." Mr. Yagi gave him another steadying shoulder pat. "In that case, let's go into this with the assumption that this is danger sense, and it is attempting to warn you of a real threat."
"Okay," said Izuku. He rubbed at his eyes. "What do we do first?"
Mr. Yagi tensed and looked up at the top floors of UA. "Well..."
.
"Hm!" said Nezu. "That is something of a conundrum! The extent of your quirk is unclear, and it is not properly registered, so we cannot go through the official routes we normally would for a warning given through a precognitive or clairvoyant quirk, even given that we are aware of One for All and the probable nature of Danger Sense."
Nezu knowing about One for All had been a bit of a surprise. In retrospect, maybe it shouldn't have been. All Might would have had to tell Nezu something so that Izuku was allowed on campus before he was really a student, and seeing as how All Might was originally teaching here to find a successor... well, it made sense. Izuku just wished he'd been told.
How many other people knew was a question for later, however.
"Your inexperience with the quirk and other circumstances further complicates the matter."
"Sorry," said Izuku.
"Whatever for? It isn't your fault." Nezu did not wait for an answer. "Then there is yesterday's incident to consider... You say you felt something with the reporters?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"Hm. Yes. Toshinori, I so believe you have a contact who could clear this up much more efficiently."
"I know," said Mr. Yagi. "He isn't picking up his phone."
"You don't think-?" started Izuku.
"No, no, he just hasn't been speaking to me lately."
"Oh? I was under the impression you had been communicating with him regularly since returning to Musutafu."
"He thought I would change my mind about something I didn't change my mind about, apparently. It doesn't matter. What else can we do?"
"A good number of things, luckily. Midoriya, I am going to make a series of phone calls. I would like you to tell me if the sensation you are experiencing changes at all while I make them."
"Yes, sir."
Nezu began methodically going through Izuku's list of teachers, warning them that something 'like yesterday' might happened and going over lesson plans and safety procedures. Nothing really changed. Until Nezu called Thirteen.
(Oh, gosh, they were going to go to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint on a field trip today? That was so cool!)
But after Nezu talked to Thirteen about checking safety systems, a little bit of the tension he'd been holding onto leaked away.
"Interesting," said Nezu. "Perhaps we should reschedule rescue training until-"
Izuku dove for Nezu's garbage bin.
"-or perhaps not," mused Nezu as Izuku expelled the meager contents of his stomach.
It was a good thing he hadn't eaten breakfast.
.
"Hikage," said Banjo. "I'm sorry for calling you a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard with a warped sense of humor if this is what you had to put up with all the time."
"You called me a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard?"
"Not to your face, but yes."
"Well. It isn't as if those things aren't all true..."
.
"I'm okay," said Izuku. "That just... felt bad."
"No cancelations in that case," said Nezu as Mr. Yagi hovered.
"Y-yeah. Oh gosh, now I know how Uraraka feels..."
"Perhaps you should stay home-"
"No! I can't! That would be..."
Nezu held up his hands- paws? "It was merely a suggestion. Can I offer you some tea?"
"Yes, please," said Izuku, voice catching uncomfortably on his raw throat.
"I do have a few more calls to make. Do you feel up to staying, or would you prefer to head down to Recovery Girl? Or perhaps even the cafeteria? I imagine you haven't eaten breakfast."
"I'd like to stay."
"Very well." Nezu picked up his phone again. Izuku could just make out the click on the other end when it was picked up. "Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? One thing's for sure! I'm the principal!" There was laughter on the other end of the line. "No, not at all! I am in fact calling for you, Tensei. Or should I say, Ingenium? I'm aware this is last minute, and you were planning on taking the day off- How do I know? It was quite simple, really- but between the break-in yesterday and a tip I received this morning regarding a threat to the school, I would like a few more hands on deck than usual. Why, yes, you can stay with your brother's class. Do try not to tease Shouta too much. He has a reputation to maintain." After a few more pleasantries, Nezu hung up. "Midoriya?"
"I... think that's better? I'm sorry, it's hard to tell what could be the quirk and what's just me feeling bad."
Nezu nodded. "In that case, I do recommend that you head to Recovery Girl's office. My other calls will be similar, and the other heroes will not be with your class."
"Why not?" asked Mr. Yagi.
"Because Midoriya's reaction to the field trip being canceled suggests that the danger may not be limited to himself or his class. Oh! And one more thing. Midoriya, I noticed that you put in some costume alteration requests. Naturally, most of them will not be finished until some time next week, however, some of the support items you mentioned are fairly common. If you have time before the field trip, you should pay a visit to Power Loader."
.
Izuku hadn't expected it, but he did feel much better after eating, despite his continuing sense of impending doom. It was also about half an hour from the beginning of homeroom, so he had the time to go to the support department and check if they had anything he could take.
He hoped they had grappling hooks. Izuku had always wanted a grappling hook.
Mr. Yagi took him most of the way there, but students had started to arrive at this point, and Izuku convinced him to go prepare for classes (and hide in the staff area so that no one would wonder why he, a skeleton man not recognizable as a hero, was at the school). Before too long, Izuku stood in front of a rather sturdy-looking metal door. He hoped this was the right one.
He raised his hand to knock just as something crashed into him. Ah. This was it for sure. The way he would die. The danger he had foreseen.
No. Wait. Never mind. He was fine, just on the ground.
"Oh! There was a person there! You okay?"
"U-um," said Izuku, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I'm fine, just a little startled."
"What're you doing here, anyway?"
"I- I'm here for... support... gear?" He sort of trailed off as he looked up.
It was the intense pink haired girl from the other day. As he watched, her expression changed from one of mild concern to calculating interest.
"Support gear, you say?"
.
Shouta answered his phone as he walked down the hall. "Nezu, I've already done every security check I can think of that'll fit-"
"Not quite why I was calling, although I can see why you would think so. One of your students needs to be rescued from the support department."
Shouta changed direction without missing a beat. "It's Midoriya, isn't it?"
"Why, yes."
"Did you send him down there without warning him?"
"Yes, again. You know me so well!"
Shouta hung up.
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appleteeth · 3 years
Text
Bruce Week Fic #6
Sunday (July 25): Grief, Magic
(Warnings for mentions of domestic and child abuse.)
It was funny, being friends with someone who knew magic. Loki had somehow, after everything they had been through, become one of Bruce’s closest confidant on board the spaceship taking them to Earth. First they would merely nod at one-another in quiet respect, then Loki stopped Bruce in the corridor one day to explain how something seemingly innocuous he had done was actually offensive in Asgardian culture and Bruce, though wary he was tricking him, thanked him. 
Then Bruce would make a habit of finding Loki in the makeshift dining hall and sitting with him, not exactly striking up conversation but letting him know they could talk, if he wanted to. 
A few months into the journey and Loki was spotted laughing loudly at something Bruce had said, and whilst it made Thor a little nervous to see them getting along so well, it was also a relief. They were both part of his Royal Council, after all, so they needed to get along for the sake of his people. 
Then, when Bruce moaned to himself about being unable to find what he needed in the cramped medical bay, Loki produced the vial out of thin air and handed it to him. 
“That still freaks me out,” Bruce told him before taking the vial tentatively. 
“I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t,” he said with a smirk.
“How does it work? Are you pulling items from somewhere else? Are you taught how to use magic or is it instinctual? Could I learn magic or is it an Asgardian thing?”
“No, I was taught by my mother and yes… to an extent. You wouldn’t be able to conjure items or control objects but you can learn basic spells.”
Bruce was excited for barely a second before he frowned. “Are you messing with me again?”
“Bruce, I have come to find you… relatively welcome company. I enjoy our conversations, even if you are a Midgardian.”
“Bit prejudiced, but thank you.”
“So I’m not messing with you,” Loki concluded. “I can give you some basic spells to try that will give you more insight into your being.”
“I, uh, think I’ve had enough insight lately," he said warily. 
And Loki smiled, this time without a mischievous glint in his eye. 
"What if I were to teach you a spell that helped you in ways you never knew you needed?"
Bruce snuck into the medical bay late into the evening whilst the rest of the ship went to sleep. It was the one place he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, especially as Asgardians were so resilient to injury, they barely came to him with less than a severed limb. 
He read through the instructions Loki had written in elaborate cursive, mostly in English but certain words wouldn't translate so he had to work through how to pronounce them before starting. It was oddly pleasant following the instructions step by step, like he was trying out a new recipe, only this was more writing specific phrases in runes than measuring out ingredients. 
He had to write the words as naturally as possible, like he had been writing in the language his entire life, recite them outloud and then… go to sleep. Which was easier said than done when he was expecting something miraculous to happen. He crept back into his shared dorm with seven other passengers and lay down, hoping that whatever was supposed to happen would actually help him.
He finally drifted off and there he found himself travelling, not sure what he was facing was a dream or effects of the spell, but welcoming it nonetheless. 
He was standing in an old-fashioned kitchen, meticulously clean down to the top of the cabinets where nobody would ever bother to look. Whoever's domain this was, it was so well looked after it could very well be a showroom. 
There were a few signs of life, however. There was a small stack of plates ready to be cleaned, a few novelty magnets on the refrigerator, a Captain America action figure on the table…
Bruce stopped, looking at the toy and realising where he was. He had spent so long trying to forget his childhood home he didn't even recognise the kitchen anymore. But he knew that toy like it was imprinted on his mind, having spent many hours clutching it, talking to it, wishing the real Cap was there to save him.
"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, would you like some water?" 
And he spun on his heel to see her. It was so odd to view her now that he was a little taller than her, instead of being small enough to wrap his arms around her legs. She was still as beautiful as the pictures but she wasn't memorialised in his mind like some sort of perfect being. Her sweater was threadbare at the elbows, her hair was a little frizzy (thick curls like his, almost identical in colour) and she had dark circles under her eyes. She also wore glasses, which Bruce had completely forgotten because she took them off for photos. 
"Uh…" he didn't know what to say to her. 
"You must be parched, here," and Rebecca poured him a glass of water from a pitcher she kept in the fridge. "Piping in new houses is never deep enough to keep water cool, not like the old days." 
He was still trying to find words when he realised a vision shouldn't be able to hand him things, and he shouldn't be able to feel the cool water tumbling down his throat. 
"So, you wanted to talk about Robbie?" 
He nearly choked on the last mouthful and hid it with a loud cough. 
"Um, yes," he said, not sure who he was supposed to be in this scenario but going along with it all the same. 
His mother nodded and indicated for him to sit down with her at the kitchen table. Again, it felt so strange to be big enough for a chair he used to sit at every day as a kid, his legs swinging and needing a cushion so he could reach the table properly. 
"His teacher said he's been excelling," she said proudly but then immediately frowned. "You didn't speak to my husband, did you?" 
"No, of course not," and he now knew his role like he had read the script. "Yes, young Br… Robbie has been working really hard and it's clear to see he is clever." 
She smiled, but it was juxtaposed by her sad eyes. "You're going to say he should be in a gifted school, aren't you?" 
"Uh…" 
"Well I'm sorry but he can't. He just… can't." And she sighed tiredly before collecting herself. "I'm sorry, it's just--" 
"I know," Bruce said quietly. "You don't have to explain your reasons. I know you would want the best education for him, but sometimes that can't happen." 
And he couldn't help himself, she was right there in front of him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it in comfort. 
"Thank you," she said quietly. 
"And it's not like kids won't excel as adults just because they missed out on extra tutoring," he continued. "They'll catch up in no time and go on to do great things." 
She smiled warmly and Bruce recognised his own features in hers. He never thought he looked like her, always hating how he was the spitting image of his father, but he saw himself in her smile. 
"I hope so. Do you know he can name every bird he sees? Even the scientific names. He read about bird watching and within a day he was telling me facts about each one." 
Bruce couldn't help but grin, having forgotten about that particular hyperfixation. "Is that so?" 
"If he could… that is, if we agreed he could go to a gifted school, I suspect he would get a scholarship for college, maybe even go early." 
She looked furious, if just for a moment, letting her guard down enough to show how she really felt. Bruce had never seen her angry; she had hid it well when he was small and already so scared of someone else's anger. She had shown him nothing but smiles and positivity, desperate to make his life as normal as possible. 
But he remembered hearing her crying behind the bedroom door, trying to suppress her sobs so she could go read her child a bedtime story like nothing was wrong. The illusion was shattered that day.
"You are doing everything you possibly can for your son. More than everything. You--"
He stopped himself. Was this really a dream or had he really travelled back? What would it mean if he told her?
"I will lay down my life for him," she finished, eyes defiant and full of fury. 
He felt his facade fading, no longer able to pretend he wasn't who he really was. 
"You're going to save my life. Over and over. Until that bastard kills you for it." 
He cried, clutching her hand and unable to look at her. She shouldn't have sacrificed herself for him. She wasn't supposed to be known as just a wife and mother. She was exceptionally bright in her own right, never one to boast but able to keep up with her husband and nudge her son towards harder sums and thicker books. It wasn't her fault the man who told her he loved her had used that love to control her, to make her feel weak and stupid.
Had she escaped that night, she would have done great things. 
"I know," she said quietly, tears in her own eyes. "I figured I had a shot that night. He usually stays late at the bar and left the car at home, so I thought I had three hours. But I didn't know he had a meeting the next morning and drank a whole bottle of whiskey walking home instead. I miscalculated." 
"It's my fault. You told me to pack but I couldn't find my stupid Captain America toy and…" he wiped his eyes angrily. "I held us up." 
Rebecca reached across the table to wipe the trails of tears from his cheeks.
"You were a child," she said. "It can never be your fault. Hey," and she cradled his face in her hands. "It was never your fault." 
"It wasn't yours either. None of it," he said defiantly. 
She nodded. "Thank you." 
The vision was starting to waver, like an old projection flickering as the film ran out. He clutched her hand desperately, wanting to tell her so much more, to tell her he hadn't wasted the gift she gave him that night. That he had excelled despite everything that happened. That he did everything to make her proud. 
He felt her hand slowly fading, getting lighter in his hand as it faded away. He managed to tell her he loved her before he awoke back on the ship, his face wet with tears. 
The next morning, much to everyone's confusion, Bruce marched straight up to Loki, grabbed him by the shoulder, and hugged him tightly. 
34 notes · View notes
slowly-writing · 4 years
Text
More Than Okay
Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader
Word count: 1.8K
Requested by anons:
- Can I request a Nat x kid!reader where the kid was in foster care and She just recently went to live with Natasha. And it’s taking her a while to warm up but eventually starts calling Nat, mom? Thank you.
- ooh can I request a nat x (adopted)daughter reader where the reader is the kid of a couple that was killed off by a villain because of their powers. avengers and reader don’t know she has powers mostly because they’ve never shown. they finally find out when said villain comes back for reader by attacking avengers and her powers burst out of her unexpectedly and she saves them all?? thinking something of a mix between Wanda’s and Thor’s powers. thank you, love your writing so much!!
- Nat's daughter telling her she doesn't wanna be a shield agent/superhero.
Your parents didn’t work for the avengers but they were avenger-adjacent. They worked with them on multiple occasions. Your parents had powers and they fought to keep the city safe as best they could. They just hid their identities and stayed out of the public eye as much as possible while doing it. They had a child after all, and their main priority was keeping you safe. Unfortunately no secret ever stays hidden forever.
You remember that night vividly. You had woken up in the middle of the night, your throat was so dry that it was hard to breathe. You quietly made your way downstairs to the kitchen, not wanting to wake your parents, but what you saw still haunts you to this day. There were dozens of men in masks fighting with your parents. The walls were broken and crumbling around you, you feared the entire house would collapse soon.
“Y/n, run!” Your father screamed. You hesitated for a split second, wanting to stay to help but you knew there was nothing you could do. They were the ones with powers and they were clearly losing. If their last wish was to keep you safe you’d grant them that, no matter how much you’d rather stay with them and share their fate.
You ran, forgoing about the door and slipping through a crack in the wall. You looked over your shoulder, relieved to see that nobody was following you. Instead you saw a sword pierce your mother’s chest. To this day you could still hear her cries of pain, but she didn’t look scared. She had simply nodded to you, a clear side she wanted you to keep going. So you did, until you got to the one place you knew was safe.
xxxxx
When you arrived at the avengers compound hours later you were exhausted and you knew you looked awful. The sun was starting to rise, showing the tear tracks cutting through the blood and dirt from various falls, your still bare feet cut and bruised, and your pajamas torn in various places. Steve was the first to see you, as he was up first for an early run. He didn’t say anything, simply brought you inside and led you to the common room. He walked off as you sat on the couch, glancing around the room you’d only seen a handful of times when visiting with your parents. You felt tears well up in your eyes again at the thought of them. You stared down at your hands in your lap, not wanting to see the room full of memories.
When Steve returns he has a first aid kit and Natasha in tow. She knows you the best out of any of the avengers, having been close with your parents.
“Hey, do you wanna talk about what happened?” Natasha's voice is soft and comforting which gives you the courage to look up, as soon as she sees the tears she knows whatever happened was nothing good. You shake your head and she pulls you into her arms. “That’s alright. We don’t have to talk right now. Is it okay if Steve and I clean you up? You’ve got some pretty nasty cuts,” she waits for your nod before motioning for Steve to pass her the first aid kit.
xxxxx
That had been over a year ago and things were still rocky. Tony has given you a room in the compound and that’s where you spent most of your time. While all the avengers cared for you, and you for them, you rarely opened up to them. The events that happened were the worst memories you had, and you didn’t want to share the most painful parts of your life with people who were practically strangers. You’d send a small smile in Peter’s direction at school and sit in on movie nights, but heart to hearts were unheard of amongst the majority of the team. You were content to be the quiet girl nobody truly knew. Well nobody aside from Natasha. You had a few conversations with her and you’ve unpacked the whole event with your therapist, but nobody else knows the details of what happened that night, and you planned to keep it that way.
“Hey y/n, wanna go shopping with us?” Clint asks you as you walk through the kitchen after school.
“No thank you,” your response is quiet and he nods, having expected as much. He always makes an effort though.
“Alright, have a good afternoon.” With that he leaves the kitchen and you head towards the living room. Bruce and Tony are on a mission and Steve always joins Clint to go grocery shopping, it’s the only way to make sure we have more than junk food. That only leaves you and Natasha in the compound so you don’t feel the need to hide.  
You sit on the floor by the coffee table, pulling out your homework with a sigh. You’re debating if you want to get your chemistry over with or get some work done on your creative writing story when you hear Natasha entering the room.
“How was school?” Her voice comforts you. It’s calming. Drastically different from the bickering and teasing the boys normally throw around.
“It was fine,” you say simply, turning around to face her as she sits on the couch behind you. Anyone else would’ve taken your short response as a sign that you didn’t want to be talking to them, that’s probably why Natasha was the only one you talked to. While Steve was technically your legal guardian you only had brief interactions with him. They never told you for sure, but you’re pretty sure the only reason it wasn’t Natasha was because she’s in America on sketchy terms and some of her missions prior to her days as an avenger could probably be classified as treason. It was best to keep her out of the mandatory background check that came with fostering a kid. You didn’t need anybody else digging into her past.
“Still dreading that chemistry homework I see,” you follow her gaze to where your textbook is pushed away and you laugh a bit.
“It’s so hard. And I don’t need it anyways! I want to be an English teacher. I don’t need to know chemistry,” you tell her and it’s her turn to laugh and place an arm around your shoulder as you flop on the couch next to her.
“You’re right, you don’t need it to teach English. But you do need it to graduate high school so you have to do it eventually. If you need help Tony will be home tomorrow, and I think Peter is coming over tonight to do some training. He’d be more than happy to help and it’d be good for you to talk to him. Remember what Dr. Tan said-“
“I need to have more interactions with people my own age. I know,” you cut her off, “But how am I even supposed to start that conversation? ‘Hi I’m Y/n- oh you already know that?-oh because I’m Stingray and Rogue’s daughter and their identities got leaked after their murder, right. Yeah I’m super sad they died too.’ Sounds like a delightful conversation to have.”
“I know it’s hard y/n, but Peter is a good place to start. He’s plenty different too and he���s not going to judge you for it,” Natasha’s argument makes sense but before you can respond you hear a crash from the kitchen and you’re grateful for the distraction.
“Is Clint back already?” You ask, pulling away from Natasha and walking towards the kitchen. You freeze in the doorway, seeing the people that have haunted your nightmares for over a year now.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?” Natasha calls but before she gets to you the closest figure charges. You duck out of the way and Natasha takes him out. She starts fighting the men but she’s beyond outnumbered. You’re frantically looking around for somebody to help, but it’s just the two of you. When you look back you see a man charging her with a sword, just like last year.
“Mom, look out!” you scream as you flail your arm in the attacker’s direction. Before Natasha can try to dodge him he’s thrown back and he’s seizing. You glance at your hands seeing a mist sparking with electricity surrounding your fingers. You don’t have time to overthink it as all the intruders’ attention turns to you. You zero in on the closest one and send a pulse of electricity in his direction. You repeat the process until they’re all on the floor. At that moment shield agents and the rest of the team come flooding in, FRIDAY having notified them of the break in.
“Holy shit,” Clint says and you look between him and your hands, eyes wide in fear.
“Did you do that?” Steve asks and you swallow hard before nodding. “You could be a good addition to the team.”
“You really could. Pulse you’re a legacy, what with your parents and everything,” an agent says and your breathing starts to speed up. Everything's happening so fast. There’s too much and you’re starting to spiral. You’re about to run when Natasha steps in front of you.
“Let’s go somewhere a bit more quiet, okay?” she offers and you nod, desperate for an escape. You both walk in silence until you’re in your room and sitting next to each other on the bed. “Did you know you could do that?”
“No! I swear I didn’t. I would’ve told you, I promise I-”
“Hey,” Natasha cuts off your rambling, placing a calming hand on your shoulder. “I’m not mad. I just want us to get on the same page. We need to figure out what this means and start training you.”
“I don’t want to be an agent,” you say bluntly. “I’m sorry. I know I should want to help people. It's the right thing to do, it’s what my parents would want me to do but I just can’t”
“That’s fine. You don't owe anyone anything and if you don’t want to use your powers then that’s okay. We do need to do some training though. Just to make sure you’re in control of them, but we don’t have to tell anyone outside of the team if you don’t want to,” Natasha promises and you nod, throwing yourself into her arms as you sigh in relief.
“Thank you,” you whisper and you feel her sigh this time.
“There’s one more thing. You called me mom in there. I know that was all probably really mentally draining and I have no idea what kind of memories it triggered. I know it was an accident but-” it’s your turn to cut her off.
“It wasn’t an accident. I know you’re not legally my mom, but you’re the one who stepped up. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened to me if you weren’t there. I get it if it’s not okay with you, but I think of you as my mom,” you explain, wringing your hands as you wait for her response.
“It’s more than okay with me,” Natasha tells you, placing a hand over yours.
Tag List: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff
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skullchicken · 3 years
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On the 30.04.2021, Meinhart Bonifaz Brant, at that point an unassuming spindly 15-year old human reading Stanislaw Lem's "Star Diaries" on the living room couch, goblinized into a giant. About 50 years later, he would go on a few adventures under the street name "Alberich" (you see, it's very funny because he's not a dwarf).
In honor of goblinization-day, I'm compiling all of the art and (hopefully entertaining) stories I have of mah boi and the chicago shadowrun-group - so these are going to be some long posts. Everything under the cut so I don't clog up your dashboards and cut up into chunks. If you don't want to see it, blacklist "goblinization".
Part 1, the first mission:
So, why is Alberich? When I joined the shadowrun-group that would start my obsession, my english conversational skills weren't that great. Mostly trouble finding words and having a really thick german accent. Since I was a bit self-conscious about that, I decided to instead lean into it. Thus Alberich was a german-born ex-museum director turned shadowrunner since he did a Very Stupid Thing and had to leave the Allied German States for Chicago.
What did he do? He made a deal with a dragon. Specifically, he sold a forged piece of art to Lofwyr, CEO of Saeder-Krupp.
Alberich was introduced into the already formed group something like this: "At the entrance of the building, arriving punctually, you spot the biggest troll you've probably ever seen, looking very uncomfortable to be here and slinking as much as is even possible. All in all, he somehow doesn't look very threatening. In fact, he looks as if an art teacher had been stuffed with a 3 meter/10 feet tall horned giant. His face lights up as he sees you, though."
So the first thing he does is shake everyone's hand, politely assuring them that it's a pleasure to meet them and yes, he is Alberich, and who are you? Ah, yes, lovely names, very creative.
For reference, this is the average shadowrun-group:
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Speaking of which, the gang's line-up did change a bit unfortunately, but the ones that stayed from beginning to end were:
Speedrun, street-samurai. An adrenaline-junkie who has styled himself after anime. Very much trying to be cool, to the point that he has adopted a deep-sounding voice that's rather obviously not his natural speaking voice. We pictured it as him talking with his head on his chin. Here he is, trying to impress the fighting adept shere khan:
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Elf_Queen, decker and elf-poser. An elf-poser is someone who tries very hard to be elf-like - in her case, she wanted to actually *be* an elf. She ran away from home since her parents were metahuman-racists (Humanis policlub). Notably, her online and offline persona were very different. Online, she's very assertive and the guild leader of an mmorpg. Offline however, she's pretty much scared of anything. When Alberich joined the group, she hid behind Speedrun - you don't live with humanis for that long without picking up some xenophobia as well. And trolls aren't well-liked in the game world.
So the first mission: De-kidnap a kidnapped singer called Jericho. First we took a look at the bus-line she had last taken, a task for which Elf_Queen had to jack into said bus. Only three problems: A) She had to get behind a metal covering inside the bus B) her character sheet is min-maxed to hell and back, thus she has ONE measly point in strenght. Which wouldn't be a problem since she's in the presence of three pretty strong dudes if not for C) Massive Social Anxiety.
After looking around like a wet bunny for 5 minutes, Alberich (who has also cramped himself into the bus) finally catches on and goes "... can I help you, little lady?", pops the cover open and she can get deckin'. You might call this strike 1. You'll see why.
After visiting her appartment and some more investigation, we gather that Miss Jericho has been taken away into a bunraku (think brothel but with more brainwashing) to be re-programmed to the liking of her ex-boyfriend whose band she left to make it on her own (and quite successfully so). Which means we'll have to deal with Yakuza.
The bunraku turns out to be disguised as a night club. After I tried and failed to casually infiltrate the place (... I... er... wasn't a very good player at first?) we had to flee forwards, take out the guards at the door and make sure we get in and out of there as soon as possible.
In the club, almost before we made it backstage, Elf_Queen got held up by a guy bent on talking to her and froze up. Well, at least until Alberich very casually bent over the two of them and informed the guy that "she's with me". I tell you this, because this was strike 2.
Backstage, past a kitchen and into the cellar, we finally got into a room with two rows of plexi-glass cells - and in the middle, a bound spirit, a thing that feeds on negative emotions. Our muscle (Speedrun and Baba Yaga - yes, we had a John Wick in our midst. And yes, Alberich technically doesn't count as muscle, he's a mage. It's complicated) were outside, fighting off Yakuza. So it was up to EQ to hack Miss Jericho's cell open as quickly as possible and for me to make sure she wouldn't die while doing so.
After like three rounds of unsuccessful banishing (as I said... not a good player), the cell was open. But...
But.
There were the other victims.
What about the others?
Now, when I thought up Alberich, my core idea was "Daryl Whitefeather and Don Corleone having a mental fistfight". I tend to play good characters and this time around, to honor the setting I set out a morally grey character, someone who mostly looks out for himself and only indulges in kindness when he has the luxury to do so. Being kind and polite, if you think about it, is really just usually the easiest and most pleasant way to get people to do what you want. And if people are convinced you're scary by nature, seeming less so is just a smart survival strategy.
But then he looks at this little socially anxious nerd, who very much reminds him of himself, when he used to be a little socially anxious nerd, long, long ago and she says with big eyes "please! can you give me a bit more time? We need to save the others! We have to try!" and it's just... strike three. He's taken the little decker into his heart. So internally he goes "welp, I'm old anyways" and externally he shrugs his mana-burned shoulders, sighs "okay" and keeps trying to banish.
Unfortunately the spirit almost eats him alive. EQ fails to open any more gates, so they make it out once he as but 2 life points left, run into the elevator and evade the fast approaching small army of Yakuza on the way out.
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Elf_Queen jumps into his arms, Alberich holds her like one might hold a chihuahua, Baba Yaga is trying to gauge their time and speedrun's reporting back from outside.
In the end, it was bittersweet. Because while we did save Miss Jericho, the brainwashing still took hold. Her last 1 1/2 years of life wiped away, she asked for her ex-boyfriend as soon as she woke up.
End of Part 1, thank you for reading this very self-indulgent text!
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It Takes A Village Chapter 5
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Chris Evans x Pregnant!daughter!reader
Series Master List
Series summary: You find out that your pregnant. After being kicked out of your mom's house you go to live full time with your Dad who you only saw once every few months. Will he react badly to you being a mom at such a young age?
Chapter Summary: It's your first day at school in boston and you make a new friend
Series Warnings: swearing, fighting with a parent, teen pregnancy, speak of abortion.
Chapter Warnings: none that I know of
You should know the drill by now Y/n means your name, n/n means nickname.
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It Sunday night and all weekend since you told your family about the baby on Friday, you were mostly left to your own devices which for the most part you did hang out with family but today you were just relaxing since your dad was making calls for work, and you just felt like being alone. Your walked around the neighborhood with Dodger, but right now you were in your bed scrolling through Instagram. You came across a photo Jake posted. Him at the skatepark seemingly unbothered by the fact he broke up with you cause he was sitting with another girl cuddled on his side. The post was captioned "Skating with Friends." You frowned deeply, he was already moving on. You finally have a minute to grieve the breakup and he's already moving on. You sighed cuddling up under your blanket deeper. Sniffling you hid your face in your pillow. You should've known it wasn't going to last but you didn't think it would end with you moving back in with your dad pregnant.
"Bubba?" Chris knocked on your door. "Can I come in?" He asked.
"One second!" You hollered wiping the few tears that managed to escape then you closed Instagram opening Netflix on you phone to make it look like you were going to watch a movie instead. "Come in!"
"Hey, Sweetpea. So I have a bit of news." He said walking in and sitting on your bed. You nodded turning your phone off before you sat up. "Well this summer I have to go to LA to film a movie and we'll be there for a few months. You'll have come with me." He told you.
"Okay.. But I'm due in november will we be back here by then?" You said.
"I'm not sure but I can't leave you here alone especially when you'll be pregnant. Bubba it'll only be for a few months and even if the baby is born in LA we'll come back to Boston in no time." He tried to reassure you.
"Okay... Oh dad! I wanted to talk to you about me getting a job so I can pay for the baby..."
"I'll help you pay." He said.
"Dad... But I have to do this on my own.. You can help but more with babysitting not paying for them... Do you know anywhere that might hire me?" You asked. He sighed nodding.
"Probably the McDonald's close to your school. I'll help you get a work permit filled out. If you promise me you won't over work yourself with at your job and with school." He negotiated.
"Deal!"
"Okay now go to bed you have school early in the morning. I'll drive you there." He kissed your forehead before leaving your room. He really hopes you keep up your side of the deal.
---
You jumped out of the car waving to your dad. "Bye!" You hollered smiling at him before making your way up to the school. Joining a new school in the middle of March isn't exactly what you wanted but none the less you can't just not go to school for the rest of the school year. You made it in eyes darting around the hoard of your new classmates all pushing around to get to their lockers.
"Hi! You must be the new girl!" A girl with bright smile said out of no where making you jump.
"Yeah.. I'm y/n... Who are you?"
"I'm Darcy! I'm going to help you find your way around the school! Do you know your locker number?" She asked you cheerfully.
"Uh.. Yeah, uh." You pulled your paper out of your backpack looking over it for your locker number. "Locker 543." You said looking at her smiling.
"Okay! Follow me! So did your family just move here is that why your joining the school so late in the year?" She asked as you began walking.
"Not really I just moved in with my dad." You told her.
"Oh cool!" She said happily as you guys turned down another hallway.
"Yeah..."
"Okay! Here's your locker. What class do you have first?" She asked. You held up your schedule to her before opening your locker. "Mr. Sparks English class. Cool! He's my favorite teacher he's pretty chill." She told you a her bright smile still on her face.
"Cool. Uh where is his class?" You asked her.
"I have to go the opposite way for my class but it's down the hallway on the left second door." She explained. You nodded before began going the other way for her class. You followed her directions to a door. You walked in seeing most of your classmates already there only a few desks empty.
"Hi? Who are you?" He asked giving you a welcoming smile.
"Uh y/n Evans. I'm new." He nodded.
"Okay take a seat."
You went to a empty seat and sat down looking around the classroom. Nothing to strange. "Sorry I'm late!" A boy with black tousled hair and a outfit that looked like it had been thrown on in minutes which you presumed by the fact he was wearing his sweatshirt on backward and inside out.
"It's fine Mr. Conley. Sit down." The teacher said. The boy came over and sat in the empty seat next to you.
"You new?" He whispered to you. All you did was nod.
---
At lunch you sat alone, you haven't made any friends yet. "Hey new girl." The boy from earlier slid into the bench across from you at the table. "I'm conley, Oscar Conley." He said in a slick voice.
"Well Conley, I'm Evans, Y/n Evans." You mocked his slick voice a smile on your face.
"Well, Evans welcome to the school!"
"Mhm.." You nodded noticing his sweatshirt was still in backwards. "Your shirts on backwards and inside out." You pointed out. He frowned looking down at the tag.
"Oh come on no one told me!" You giggled. "It's not funny I've been walking around like this all day."
"It's a little funny."
"Okay new girl, what's your story?" He asked.
"What?"
"Oh come on no one just comes to a new school near the end of March. Let me guess you got into a fight and got expelled from your last school." You shook your head. "Your secretly a spy for the fbi here to spy on one of my classmates because they're apart of the mafia!"
"No!" You laughed.
"Your actually an alien from Mars here to wipe out all of the human race."
"No. I just moved in with my dad." You said rolling your eyes at his crazy assumptions.
"That's boring you should tell everyone your an alien." He said smiling. You laughed.
"Okay. What about you Oscar? Do you sit and talk to all the new kids?" You asked before taking a bite of your lunch.
"Only the ones that look like a secret spy." He joke. You cracked a smile shaking your head.
---
After lunch you and Oscar swapped numbers before Darcy took you away to show you your next class. Right now your sitting outside waiting for your dad to come pick you up. "Evans." You heard Oscar say from behind you. "Waiting for your flying saucer?"
"Yeah." You chuckled looking at him for a second then back ahead at the street. "Well Conley that's my ride see you later!" You stood waving at him before running to your dad's car.
"Thought you said you were taking a break from boys?" Chris asked once you got in.
"Dad he's a friend the only person who talked to me without the school telling them they had to."
"Okay how was school?"
"It was good I made a friend."
He smiled at you beginning to drive as you looked out the window. "Well. Your gonna have to tell him about the baby since he's your friend now."
"Oh yeah." You said.
"Okay I got the paper work for your work permit we'll fill it out then you can apply somewhere you can walk to from school." He said.
You nodded giving him a smile.
A/n: kinda got carried away oops.
Taglist: @toastisgood @coldmuffinpartycloud @thevelvetseries
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laineystein · 3 years
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I made this post because my typical anxiety over 9/11 is overwhelming this year. I don’t know why it feels so raw. I mean…I have my guesses but none of that really matters. Some people seemed to take issue with the post. Some people on this website weren’t even alive when it happened and most of you, if you were, likely didn’t experience it firsthand. But some of us did. I did.
I grew up in Brooklyn, NY. On October 8, 2001, my uncle and his wife were in town visiting from Israel. We went to Windows on the World which at the time was this very fancy restaurant at the top of the North WTC tower. It had a panoramic view of Manhattan with Jersey and my neighborhood in Brooklyn in the distance. That day it was so cloudy that we couldn’t see anything. I don’t remember much; I thought it was odd that my parents allowed me, an 11 year old, to come to this fancy restaurant. What was even more bizarre was the sweet lady in the bathroom whose job was to stand there all day and offer hand towels to patrons after they washed their hands. It was all just a very surreal experience — and this was before I knew what would happen only a month later.
On September 11, 2001 I was in yeshiva. Math class. A teacher showed up at our door and walked right in, interrupting my teacher in the middle of her lesson. They stepped out into the hall. Before my teacher had even come back into the room there was an announcement over the intercom saying we were going into lockdown. Let me preface this with: yeshivas get death threats and bomb threats often. We were practicing lockdown drills long before Columbine and 9/11. This is part of being a Jew. As an Israeli Jew, I knew it all too well. Unlike most of my fellow students, lockdowns were common place. At 11 I’d spent a collective of 50+ hours in mamad (bomb shelters) back in Israel…at least of what I could remember. But we didn’t know what was going on. We figured it was just a threat, that the police would come and do their usual sweep, and then we’d return to our lessons. But that didn’t happen. We stayed in the safe rooms for hours. Then, we were told to quickly and quietly return to our classrooms to collect our belongings. We were going to go to the gymnasium and wait for our parents to pick us up. We still had no idea what was going on. 
Both of my parents worked in Manhattan at the time: my father in the village and my mother in midtown. Some students were picked up right away. My brothers and I were not. We weren’t alone. There were probably about 30 of us that didn’t have parents show up. Again, we had absolutely no idea what was going on but we knew at that point that something wasn’t right.
The teachers scrambled, doing their best to appear calm while they made phone calls and talked amongst themselves. At one point most of them left and it was just us and our principal. In true Jew fashion we read Torah and passed the time learning. Eventually all of the teachers returned and we were split up - unnervingly, my brothers and I were in different groups. They explained that there had been an accident in the city that made travel difficult so instead of making us wait for our parents to pick us up, they’d arranged for us to go to the homes of our classmates. My brothers and I were split up because they were going to a male classmate’s home and I, a female, was going to my best friend’s house. That was comforting. It was comforting until we left school and walked to one of my teacher’s cars. The sky looked different. Everything felt *off*. Across the river was a scene of pure chaos and we still didn’t understand the magnitude of things.
My best friend’s mother met me at the door with a warm smile. If she knew what had happened (I know now that she did), she hid it well. She welcomed me inside and then shut the door, the teacher and her standing on the stoop talking in hushed tones while I walked with my best friend toward her room. Her mother came back in the house and checked on us. She shut my best friend’s bedroom door behind her - a weird occurrence, to say the least. We finished homework and then sat around eating snacks and chatting. We heard the door downstairs signaling that my best friend’s father was home. With his presence, shadows moving behind the door, all of them talking in hushed tones. It was my best friend’s brother speaking with his father. The deeper tones of their voices made it easier for us to make out what they were saying but it still wasn’t much: tragedy, airplane, towers.
At dinner things seemed normal. All the while I was panicking, not understanding why my parents had yet to come pick me up and take me home. After dinner it was baths and bedtime for the younger kids. My best friend and I thought we were so cool being allowed to have a sleepover on a school night. We snuck down to the kitchen for more snacks. In the living room was her parents and brother. We stood outside the room eavesdropping. They were watching American news…so it was in English. That enough put us on alert (we all had special tv packages back then that broadcasted Israeli channels, ie. everything was usually in Hebrew). We waited and listened. I couldn’t help myself. I walked right into the room and sat down on the couch next to my best friend’s brother. I don’t think their parents knew what to make of it. My best friend joined me and at 11 years old we watched as the news continuously played footage of the planes hitting the towers and the absolutely horrific photos and footage captured afterward of New Yorkers scrambling, running, crying . Aside from the TV, it was silent. All of Brooklyn felt silent. The usual street noise failed to exist. It was as if that television was the only sound in the world.
I panicked then. All at once. I realized what this meant. My parents didn’t work in lower Manhattan but they did both work in the city. Why hadn’t they at least called? There were still so many unanswered questions about the attacks that I as an 11 year old couldn’t possibly understand. At the time they still didn’t know who had orchestrated the attacks and without that information they couldn’t figure out why. That night we watched the Presidential address. We got some answers. I still couldn’t believe that my best friend’s parents were allowing us to stay. Brooklyn was still quiet. I still didn’t know where my parents were and I started to wonder if they were dead. At one point, for a few minutes I accepted that they were. That didn’t hit me until the television was turned off.
We were ordered off to bed. My best friend seemed so relieved and she jumped off the couch and bounded up the stairs. I moved much more slowly, her brother trudging behind me. At the landing he grabbed for my wrist to stop me. Now, mind you, this is a modox household - any physical contact between unrelated girls and boys is prohibited. I turned to look at him and he asked if I was alright. I was crying but I don’t remember that (he told me years later). He hugged me. I don’t know how long it lasted. I didn’t think about the ramifications of what we were doing. I just thought of my parents. He walked me to his sister’s room and just smiled before disappearing into his own.
School was cancelled the next day. My best friend’s father didn’t go to work. We now knew how unreal all of this was but the younger kids in the house had no idea. I was jealous of them. Their parents were home and safe. I still didn’t know where mine were or if they were alive.
My best friend’s mother handed me the phone after breakfast. It was my eldest brother. They were fine. He knew what had happened but my two younger brothers did not. The call was brief. I didn’t have to ask; he just figured our parents were dead too.
If you weren’t alive and especially if you weren’t in New York during the attacks, you can’t possibly understand how much was unknown. The attacks had completely obliterated any semblance of order in Manhattan. One of the city’s largest cell towers was on top of WTC so when the towers fell, with it went the cell service. Trains were shut down. Cabs weren’t running. Landlines were clogged, reserved for emergency personnel. There are photos of New Yorkers running across the Brooklyn Bridge to just get out of the city. So many of these people lived in the Bronx or Queens (other way) but the goal was to just be away from lower Manhattan. Everyone and everything was displaced.
When you’re 11 you don’t reason that your parents found friends to stay with and would call and get home as soon as they could. At 31 I still can’t comprehend how people could hate other people so much that it made sense to commit mass murder in such a horrific way…so it certainly didn’t make sense to me then.
September 11th was a Tuesday. I didn’t hear from my father until the afternoon of September 12th. I didn’t get back to our house until that Wednesday night and then it was a waiting game of wondering where my mother was. We heard from her finally on Thursday morning. She didn’t get home until Thursday night. Like my father she was in the work clothes she’d left the house in on Tuesday, as if she’d existed somewhere else completely for a short bit of time, before returning to reality.
My parents were fine. The parents of many of my classmates were not. We attended so many funerals that year. Classmates were constantly sitting shiva. It completely disrupted the flow of that year. School was shut down for over a week. My parents didn’t go to work for almost two weeks. Trains still weren’t running. People were nicer, more patient. The sky looked weird. The city smelled different. These are the things I remember — things I don’t know how to properly explain to anyone that was not there.
I don’t remember how we transitioned out of that changed world because when we were in the middle of it, we felt like it would never end. Things somehow returned to “normal”…a new normal.
I don’t know if non-NYers know this but after the attacks you could visit the site. It was a pile of rubble but you could go and stand on a platform and watch construction equipment move dirt and beams. There was a gaping hole in lower Manhattan. Too much sky; too much space. I couldn’t believe that at one point I’d been over 100 floors up, letting some woman hand me a towel so I could dry my hands. I think about that woman a lot.
9/11 is actually a big reason I’m a doctor. It’s the first time in my life I felt truly helpless and I decided I didn’t like that feeling and I didn’t understand why more wasn’t being done. I don’t know what “more” was but I wanted to do it. And now I can do “more”. During the pandemic in 2020, “more” was all we did.
I don’t like in Brooklyn anymore. I actually live in Lower Manhattan, only 6 or so blocks from the 9/11 memorial. That boy that hugged me on the stairs is my boyfriend now. Ironically he works in the new One World Trade Center. Occasionally he sends me photos from work, views from his desk. Thankfully he’s nowhere near the 100th+ floor. Thankfully, the 20 year anniversary fell on a Saturday. I honestly don’t think I would have allowed him to go to work today if it hadn’t.
It’s all so surreal. Every year passes and it feels further away but every anniversary these feelings of helplessness and uncertainty flood back in and I feel paralyzed by them. This is the first time I’ve ever really organized these thoughts. I don’t like to talk about it. I don’t like to think about it. Images or recordings from that day make me physically ill. I can’t explain it. My father thinks it’s because if I was a doctor back in 2001 I would be dead now because I would have absolutely run into that building to help. He’s probably right.
Every year when I see some ignorant fuck on social media spouting off about conspiracy theories or the American government bringing this upon themselves, I want to scream. If you look at the anniversary of 9/11 as anything other than a day to remember the almost 3,000 people that lost their lives, please sort of your priorities. This isn’t the time to get political or to take a side. There is no side. 9/11 isn’t a talking point. It was a real thing that happened to real people. Hate existed and people lost their lives because of it and then the world changed. Whether you were alive or not - whether you were there or not: It’s shameful to make this day about anything other than that.
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Korosuu Translation - Chapter One
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Some notes before we begin: 
This is the only piece of official Ass Class content that - to my knowledge - is not translated anywhere. It doesn’t look like anyone has any plans to, so I’ve decided to take the task upon myself. This book is kind of like the korotans, but teaches maths instead of English. It also has a Chiba and Hayami focused short story, which is what I will translate here.
I am not fluent in Japanese. I’m a mere university student who has been studying for about two years now. Whilst I feel confident enough to get the general meanings of things, I have had to use a dictionary pretty heavily with this and some word meanings and grammar parts might be incorrect. I’m only making this because I want people to be able to enjoy the book, so it’s no professional calibre translation and I please ask that you take everything with a pinch of salt. I know there are mistakes and sentences that don’t feel right, but I think you can still get the general meaning.  
The tenses are weird because Matsui kind of wrote them that way, and I generally decided not to alter them. This is my first time translating prose (I’ve only done manga panels in the past), so I’m not sure if this is a common thing in Japanese books or not. 
Whilst I’ve naturalised some sentences, others are a little more hard for me to reword so a prewarning that they may come across as a little stiff and awkward in parts. I’m still learning with this. 
Okay now that’s out of the way, the chapter! 
Chapter One - Invisible Sniper Time
During the usual E Class’ usual lunch break, Chiba Ryuunosuke, Okajima Taiga, and also Takebayashi Kotarou are gathered together, and are enjoying chatting as usual. This was the usual scenery that happened every day.
However, the usual atmosphere was a little different that day. The trigger was something that Chiba murmured.
“That’s why Chiba, you’ve tried that method over and over again, yeah? I realised that it wouldn’t be enough, so right now I’m using it in combinations with other methods.” Okajima said with a dumbfounded face, whilst holding a camera.
“I get it, that’s why I wondered if you could do it.” Chiba answered in a way that might seem blunt to people who he didn’t know. Since he covered his eyes with long bangs, he was easily misunderstood by a few people, but his close classmates knew that with the same old warmth, he was a cool and collected guy.
Takebayashi heard that, and points out whilst fixing his glasses with his index finger “if you snipe with a single shot, the sound of fire will always arrive before the bullet. Korosensei will sense the trajectory in the direction of the sound and easily avoid it. Afterall, he’s a Mach 20 monster.”
“What are you talking about?” They were interrupted by Hayami Rinka. Alongside Chiba, she’s the girl with the highest sniper results.
“Nah, Chiba was saying there isn’t a way to assassinate Korosensei with just a sniper.” When Takebayashi answered, Hayami tilted her head.
That assassination had been tried many times by Chiba and two people. There were shooting results from the two top participants. However, it all failed due to the reason Takebayashi said, and the superhuman ability of the target teacher. A simple sniper alone cannot kill him first. That should be the conclusion made between the two of them.
Chiba saw Hayami’s expression and immediately understood her thoughts, and then connected them to words. “I know it’s impossible, but it feels regrettable to do nothing like this.”
“Yeah,” Hayami nodded.
“Class, please listen.” Karasuma Tadaomi entered the classroom, and stood on the platform as he spoke to everyone on the spot. “I’ll tell you whilst he’s gone. The government has hired a new assassin.”
They weren’t surprised, because this wasn’t the first time. The government has hired professional assassins several times, but it was the usual pattern to give advance notice when there was a risk of involving the students in the E Class.
“Karasuma Sensei, what type of assassin is coming this time?” Kataoka Megu, who was chatting close by, asks.
“A slightly famous person. According to the source, they’re called the ‘Legendary Sniper’.” When Karasuma answered, Chiba and Hayami’s faces immediately perked up.
“A nickname without a twist…” Okajima forces a smile.
“Their exaggerated name means they’re not ashamed of their great skill. In everything, they seem to have succeeded in sniping many times from an impossible position.”
“Impossible position?” Takebayashi shook his head at Karasuma’s words.
“If I’m talking specifics, they would be behind the building, but still hit the target on the other side with a bullet. Of course, without shooting through the glass or anything like that. Is that an interested face?” The last word that Karasuma spoke was directed to Chiba and Hayami, not Takebayashi.
The pair nodded at the same time.
“From this standpoint, you can’t help too much, but there’s probably something you can investigate. Especially for you two and the others, it might be a reference for future assassination?”
“I don’t think there’s any reference if the sniper kills Korosensei.”
At the sound of Takebayashi’s voice, Karasuma shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think so. He can’t be killed by a human who doesn’t even know him at all. Even if this opponent is called the Legendary Sniper. Isn’t it better for you?”
-
Gathering information had never been so difficult. They searched their smart phones and their own laptops for sniper related incidents in the international news, and found many such articles. Most of it was written in English, but thanks to Nakamura Rio, who was close by to Takebayashi, it didn’t take long to read.
“That’s exactly what Karasuma Sensei said… Look at this, they were shot between the bullet proof limousine door the instant it opened. The line of fire should have been from this direction.” Chiba lifts the screen of the laptop he was looking at. Right there, there was an article that said the leader of a criminal organisation was assassinated under strict vigilance.
“Is that difficult?”
When Okajima looked at the screen, Chiba nodded.
“It seemed that it they were surrounded by bodyguards when they got out of the limousine, and the building they were trying to enter was an organisational building. There is no sniping point you can use to shoot into a limousine from over there.”
“Is it possible to hide and shoot?” Additionally, Okajima leant over.
Chiba shook his head. “They were only about ten meters away from the building. No matter how well they hid, they were probably able to shoot at such a distance. But this article isn’t sure where this sniper was.”
“That’s also true. They were shot from the front of the building whilst the police force were guarding. Not only the front, but all surrounding buildings were closed, and they were being monitored from above.” Hayami was looking at a case in Europe where a top enterprise was shot.
“The headline is also ‘A Magician’s Work? The Fear of the Invisible Sniper’. If this is a tabloid paper, I won’t do it anymore,” Nakamura said, looking at his laptop over Hayami’s shoulder.
“I found a number of different articles dealing the same case, so it seems like it really happened.”
“That’s right. But doing this is refreshing, hmm.”
Hayami thinks about Nakamura’s words.
“Hey, look at this. ‘Strangely, the bullets found on the scene were spherical, reminiscent of muskets’. Could this not be a hint?” At the point where Nakamura pointed, there was an English sentence she translated, and a small photo next to it was a silver bullet like a pachinko ball placed side by side with a rifle bullet for comparison.
Chiba also leaned to look at Hayami’s smart phone, and gave a big nod.
“Yeah, it helps, Nakamura. I think this is probably a really big hint.” Chiba, who usually doesn’t express many emotions, gazed at the screen whilst speaking with an unusually warm tone.
“Hey~, what have you been doing for so long?” Kurahashi Hinano called from behind Nakamura. When they explained clearly, Kurahashi replied with a smile. “Huh, it looks interesting doesn’t it? So, did you understand anything?”
“Originally, there isn’t enough information in online articles. I think we need to do something more.” Takebayashi answered.
Chiba nodded whilst Takebayashi was speaking.
“Right?” Kurahashi’s face perked up as she looked at Takebayashi’s laptop.
“If that’s the case, why don’t we go to the article and look at them?”
“That’s a good idea, but it’s all about Europe and America… right?” After answering Nakamura, Chiba looked at his own smartphone and frowned. “This article is in English, but it looks like the scene is in Japan.”
“What happened?” Nakamura used the smartphone and clicked on the screen that appeared. “Ah, there was also an article in Japanese. It looks like they did it for the news. It’s in Shibuya, Tokyo. It looks like they wrote about a mafia boss of the international expanding yakuza.”
“It’s decided~ This weekend, let’s have a picnic at the crime scene in Shibuya!!” Kurahashi pounded her hands on the table.
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That’s the end! It took me quite a while to do this, so don’t expect the next chapter right away! I’ll try my best to complete the whole book, though! 
Chapter two
My comments under the cut 
I don’t really get why Karma and Nagisa are in the illustration, when they’re literally not even mentioned lmao. 
Karasuma acts like this is a regular thing? That they just get random assassins joining their class every now and then? I guess it’s OC time for those wanting to write missing episode fics! 
It’s really nice to get some proper Chiba and Hayami dialogue, I hope this will be helpful to those who want to write them. I also love the dynamic of Nakamura joining in. 
It seems like the students bring their own laptops to class? That’s an interesting canon addition. 
And can we just have a moment to talk about Kurahashi? Literally slapping the fucking table in excitement at the prospect of having an assassination picnic? Incredible. We stan. 
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Damian’s Sister
So I read @unmaskedagain‘s Lady Noire In Gotham and @monkeebratz‘s SMOL DAMIEN MARIBAT AU. Which created this idea.
A tad bit of background info.
Marinette, as well as most of the class, is between 15 and 16.
Damian has barely turned 11, having spent barely a year with the Wayne’s, so some of the things that they are teaching him are slowly root in his mind, which is why in the beginning he will come across as a bit of a lost boy. Not entirely sure of himself but sure of what he wants.
Marinette has the Black Cat Miraculous, and is notorious among everyone in her class for taking phones. Everyone just laughs about it whenever a phone is missing because it is most likely with Marinette.
*Line Break Inc.*
Marinette sighed as she looked around her classmates, everyone very unimpressed. They all realize that their lives are at stake and that a gun is being pointed at Marinette’s head. But Marinette wasn’t panicking, so why should they?
Marinette wasn’t panicking because she realizes that she had died before. While they aren’t pleasant memories, she still knows how it is to die, and she doesn’t panic just because some villain thinks that they can have a large pay day from the people in her class, from the French government.
Only thing is that they never negotiate with terrorist.
So, no. Marinette was not worried. Not for her life. For her parents, yes, she is worried for them. But not her life.
Marinette looked back to her class and see that the men that have surrounded the class with guns, weren’t paying attention to their guns, very much. Allowing Plagg to slip in and go through the guns, doing whatever it is that Plagg will do to cause luck on their side.
“Hey,” The class president called to her class. Every single one of their eyes turned to her, while also keeping an eye on the men in front of them. The men also turn their entire attention on the young Parisian fully ignoring their guns at that point. “Have we or have we not survived akuma after akuma?” The teens straightened their backs and looked more defiant. “And how did we survive them?” Marinette saw Alya and Cholé smirk before the two and every other female kicked the men in front of them, in the pelvic.
Marinette looked away from her classmates as they cause havoc and escape. The man in front of her smirked as he pulled his trigger, causing nothing to happen.
Marinette is so lucky she is Lady Noire.
The Asian Parisian raised a single eyebrow before she kicks the man in his jaw with her heel. Shame she was wearing her flats that day.
She looked around to her classmates and how they captured the group of men. Adrien and Nino were rounding up the guns and putting them a safe distance away from everyone. Ivan and Myléne were sitting on one. Cholé and Sabrina were putting makeup on one, who looks to be happy to be having makeup being placed on him, or her, Marinette wasn’t getting into that. Alya and Alix had one on his knees and were each pulling his arms behind him. Nathaniel had somehow convinced one to pose for him, every time that the guy tried to move Nathaniel would scream about aesthetic, in French. Rose, Juleka, and Lila were talking to one about all of his regrets in life, well Rose was getting him to talk about it and Juleka was there while Lila was digging into for everything that the man said. Kim and Max were arguing over the best way to hold a person down while demonstrating with two different guys.
“Alya, switch me and call it in.” Marinette walked over to where Alya was with Alix and took her spot, planting her foot in the man’s knee cavity and pulled his arm back towards her. Alya walked away and pulled a phone out from somewhere on her body. Marinette wasn’t going to question it. “Adrien, Nino, will you two check on Madam Bustier?”
Their teacher was rather violently knocked out when she took a stand, alone, against the men. They waked her with one of their guns on the side of her head, she fell over and has been bleeding from where she was hit.
It took another twenty minutes before police or paramedics showed up. Twenty minutes listening to Max and Kim argue, of listening to Rose comfort and Lila berate the same man in broken English, of listening to Cholé give the man (or women) makeup tips in perfect English and listening to Nathaniel occasionally scream in French about aesthetic.
Marinette was proud of her class.
Yeah, they could survive in Gotham as long as they were together.
However.
Three hours later, Marinette has winded up alone. She simply got lost in a crowd and thought she had heard her teacher call for her in one direction, the paramedics had slowly cleared the class and the teacher. The mass hysteria of the area, from the police, to the paramedics, even ten different new reporters (some yelling over each other after having set up too close to one another, both looking like they want to destroy the other one with their mic) has caused Marinette to completely miss her class getting onto their bus back to their hotel.
So, Marinette made a mistake and ended up walking down Crime Alley. She admits it is her fault.
And looking a group of three men in the eyes, all of them having knives, Marinette has had it for the day.
“Plagg, transform me.” She felt the power of creation wash over her as she continued to look the men in the eye. “You are all the worst. I just wanted a vacation from my own villain, but instead I had to come here to deal with other heroes’ villains.” They were in such a state of shock she was easily able to take them down tie them up to a light pole and left an anonymous tip on the GCPD website. When she turned around, she saw a jaw dropped Robin.
“Welp. I’m died.”
“No, no you are not.” He quickly countered and started muttering about five different things and he paced back and forth in front of her. He was talking so fast and so low it was hard for Marinette to understand completely.
“Uh, so sorry but I must be going to my temporary home.” Marinette waved to the side before taking her staff and launching herself the other way that she waved. Marinette got all the way to her room, with there being nine girls on the trip Marinette ended up with her own room. She had just closed the window and dropped her transformation when she heard a tapping on her window.
“AH!” Marinette screamed, jumped, and spun around wielding her purse as a weapon. A throat cleared, making Marinette open her eyes, finding Robin there. “Oh, hello.”
“Hello, I wish for you to be my sister.” Robin stepped off of the windowsill and took a step into the room before turning around and closing the window and the curtain.
“What?” Marinette did not know what was happening, do people just adopt other people in the States?
“You’ll get to know who I am under the mask as well as the rest of the dubbed ‘Batfamily’.” He kept his back towards Marinette as he talked.
“Wait.”
“As well a bit more formal training. You are good; however, you could use some work.”
“Stop.” Marinette finally got Robin to stop talking and turn towards her. Marinette also saw how tense he is. His posture, his face. Marinette was sure that if she could see his eyes, she’d see tears welling up in his eyes.
“Do you not wish to be my sister?”
“Well, it’s just that…”
“Yes of course, it was foolish for me to assume.” He turned away from her and clenched his fist at his sides, Marinette swore he had his eyes clenched underneath his mask.
“Robin, stop.” Marinette reached for him and brought him to sit on the bed with her. “I have parents.”
“Better than mine, I’m sure.” He continued to not look at Marinette, his fists tightened even more.
“I was a sort of miracle child. My parents never thought they could have me, or any child.” Marinette brought his face to look at hers.
“You have no siblings?” His fist unclenched as realization came upon him.
“I’d like one though.” Marinette opened her arms to receive a hug. She kept them open while Robin turned away and took off his mask, bringing his hand up to his face to rub at before turning back around, without his mask, and buried his head in her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her middle.
“I have three brothers and one sister as well as two sorts of sisters. But I had no say in them. I had no say in my parents. But I want a say in who my family is. It would mean the world to me to be your brother and your parent’s son.”
Marinette knew that this moment was very delicate. She had to remind him of his own family, but she didn’t know the situation of his family or how they treated him. Marinette sighed as she ran her fingers through his hair, deciding to just be quite for now and talking to Robin either in the morning or the next night.
A knock at the door interrupted the moment. In a second Robin had gotten across the room and hid in the bathroom and had silently closed the door. Marinette just blinked not sure if what she saw was correct. She slowly stood up and got to the door just as the person on the other side knocked again.
Marinette waited for the knocking to finish before opening the door to her teacher.
“Hello, Madam Bustier.” Marinette smiled brightly and subtly kicked her shoes off, to show that she has been there the entire time.
“Hello Marinette. I need you to do bedroom checks. You know where everyone needs to be. My head is still killing me.” Caline Bustier held up a clip board with a sheet with names across the top, room numbers right next to the name, as well as boxes underneath the names and numbers.
“It is a good thing that tomorrow is supposed to be a free day.” Marinette grabbed hold of the clip board and held it to her chest.
“That is another thing. Everyone is supposed to report to me tomorrow, but you mind if they reported to you?” Bustier leaned against the door jam, seeming to have a difficult time to just stand at that point.
“Not at all. Let me just get my slippers to walk around in the hall with, and I can get started on those bedroom checks as well as tell everyone that you will need to rest tomorrow so they will need to report to me.” Marinette backed out of the doorway a tad to start heading towards the bathroom to put her slippers on her feet as well as warn Robin of what was going on.
“Thank you, if anyone has any questions have them email me.”
“Of course. Rest well, Madam.”
“You’ll also need to do a morning check in and check ins through the day tomorrow.”
“How often do I need to have everyone check in with me?”
“Once an hour, use the clip board to keep track of the times.” Marinette nod and ensured that Bustier made it to her room before slipping back into her own and heading to her bathroom.
“Hey, I need to go…”
“Room check, I heard. I know French.” Marinette nodded, he seemed more hesitant.
Marinette after a moment of neither saying anything asked,  “Do you need to go home?”
“Yes, unfortunately.” He moved back to the bed and picked up his mask and turned back to her still as hesitant. “I’d like to spend the day with you tomorrow. If you are alright with that?”
Marinette smiled and pulled him into a hug. “I’d love to spend the day with my brother.”
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