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shokobuns · 3 years

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“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨?”

your irritating step brother likes to come in your room during your zoom classes.

PAIRING: stepbro!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE(S): smut, quarantine!au (au? LMAO), college!au, taboo

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNING(S): darkish, smut, drug use (weed), high sex, stepcest, taboo, slight dubcon, slight manipulation, exhibitionism (if you squint), sensory deprivation (blindfold), degradation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), squirting, dacryphilia (if you squint)

(A/N): this rly do be my first time using proper capitalization huh, anyways all characters, SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THE READ MORE I FIXED IT

More.

One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.

It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.

When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.

Knock. Knock.

You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.

Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.

The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.

Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his persistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”

“Go away, Satoru.”

Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.

He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.

“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.

“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”

“Yeah, can you go now?”

“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.

It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,” a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.

“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”

“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”

“I don’t need your help.”

He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.

“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”

“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”

“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”

Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”

He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”

“Nah.”

“Ooooo,” he hums like a child, “That’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.

“I guess.”

He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.

The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.

Satoru.

Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.

You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”

“Sure.”

He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.

Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.

And he’s your step brother.

Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”

“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in and close the gap.

“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.

“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.

“It’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”

“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”

“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.

You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”

“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”

You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.

“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and slurps like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines along with to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.

The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.

The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.

You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.

Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”

“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.

The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.

“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.

You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.

His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets.

Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“S-shut up-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”

His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, your little cunny milking him for all he’s worth.

He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.

“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”

Your face drops in horror, your hand immediately pulling off the blindfold, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”

He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.

Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

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Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Albedo #Yandere x reader #Honestly it's not very yandere #My sleeping pills don't work again #my writing

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

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The Long Con Part Two

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: Thanks for all of the encouragement on the first couple of parts of this 🥰💕 I hope y’all had a good week! 💖 Warnings: Cursing; some angst Summary: “Shitty liars need to practice, Pike.”

“Alright, I’ve got a list,” You said, shrugging off your bag and setting it down beside Marcus’ couch. “A list?” Marcus repeated, coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water for you, “Of what?” “Thank you-- Things that we need to sort out before we get to Austin. Look, you’re a shitty liar, right? Your words, I’m paraphrasing,” You tacked on, reaching into your bag and pulling out your notebook and a pen.

“Uh-huh,” Marcus agreed amusedly. “Right, so hopefully if we sort out our details now, you won’t feel so freaked when we’re down there. And you won’t be trying to cobble together facts on the fly. That would get incredibly messy— especially if we’re going to pull this off all week.” “A full week of lying to my family,” Marcus sighed, “Talk about a long con, huh?” You glanced up at him from under your lashes, amused. “God, you’re such a boy scout. And technically you’ve already lied to them, you started the second you told Marnie that you were bringing me— though that’s technically not a lie anymore. Just...Don’t think about it as lying, pretend you’re undercover or something,” You shrugged, flipping your notebook over to your list of questions. “So I’d be lying to myself about the lie? Isn’t that compounding it?” “You’re overthinking it, Agent.” “You might want to start calling me Marcus.” “Right,” You muttered, “I will...Remember to do that.” “So what’s on the list?” Your eyes darted up from your list as you watched Marcus shrug out of his suit jacket. You’d seen Pike in less-than-pristine states before, especially throughout the Coleman case. You’d seen him with his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and when you were half-tweaked on caffeine in your cramped office, it was… more than a little distracting. You leaned forward, picking up the glass and taking a pull from it before setting it down and settling back again. “Basics first,” You said, “How we met. I say we stick with ‘work’.” “That’s not a lie.” “I know, I thought you’d like that.” “I do.” “Okay. How long have we been together?” “Uh...Few months at least-- Five?” “I can handle five,” You jotted it down, “How come you haven’t mentioned me to them before?” You glanced over at Marcus, smiling a little when you saw his panicked expression. “Or have you gotten this one already?” You added. “No, I haven’t-- Work has been busy? Again, I think that would be sufficient, so-- Hang on.” You raised your brows as Marcus leaned back against his couch. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “What’s happening over there?” You asked. “We should change how long we’ve been together to...Maybe two or three months? If we’d been together for five and I hadn’t said anything, my family would be very suspicious.” You nodded, scribbling out ‘5’ and writing ‘2-3’. “‘Kay. Are there any significant past relationships - serious girlfriends, fiancés that I should know about? I don’t need full details, just, like, broad strokes so that if someone mentions something, I’m not completely in the dark.” “One ex-wife, one ex-fiancé,” Marcus answered without hesitation. You nodded a little, jotting that down, and stilled when he added, “My ex-wife will be at the wedding.” “Good to know. Is that contentious?” “No,” Marcus shook his head, “No, it ended amicably.” You considered Marcus, his puppy-dog eyes, soft smile and kind nature, and you couldn’t imagine it ending any other way. “She’s still close to my family,” He tacked on. “Oh,” You laughed a little, “Great. That’s gonna be fun for me.” “What do you mean?” Marcus frowned. You shot him a look. “Your family is still close to your ex-wife. You’re bringing a new girlfriend home. You don’t think this could get a little tense? Or is your entire family just as nice as you are?” Your brows rose as Marcus laughed a little, his head ducking bashfully at the question. “We try not to judge,” he conceded, shrugging, “I’ve brought a couple of other people home since the divorce. They’re not going to jump to conclusions.” You hummed, glancing further down your list. Your stomach twisted at one question, but it was one that you knew that you had to ask. “Speaking of jumping to conclusions,” You shifted in your seat, “Is there anyone in your family that might run a background check on me?” “A background check?” “Yeah,” You nodded, “I mean, I know my records are sealed and wouldn’t pop if someone ran a normal background check on me, but if anyone in your family is in law enforcement like you and...And went poking?” “No, they wouldn’t,” Marcus shook his head. “You sure?” “I’m positive.” You lowered your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to stopper asking for a third reassurance as you jotted the note down. “...You don’t trust easily, do you?” Marcus asked softly. The question turned your blood icy for a moment. But for as much ire as it raised in you, you were careful not to take offense. You knew that he wasn’t trying to get a rise out of you - you were doing the guy a favor, and it would be pretty ill-advised of the man to piss you off at this point. “What ever gave you that idea?” You teased instead, giving him a look out of the corner of your eye. Marcus’ lips twitched with a smile and you returned it. “Alright,” You added, looking through the rest of your list, “Let’s see what else we’ve got before we start drilling this stuff.”

“Drilling?” “Shitty liars need to practice, Pike.” “Marcus.” “Hey, it was better than ‘Agent’.” “At least I’m not the only one that needs practice.” --

“Run it by me again,” You requested, tucking one leg up under yourself and leaning back against the arm of the couch. Marcus sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He’d ditched the tie, had popped the top few buttons of his shirt, and his sleeves had been rolled up around his elbows. The man looked a little haggard - it was precious. He straightened up, brow scrunching before his head tipped to the side just a little. “Okay. Okay, we met a year ago when I moved to D.C... You work with the Bureau, assisting on cases, mostly art forgeries.” You nodded encouragingly, waving him on. “We started dating two and a half months ago,” He’d settled on that, finally, not wanting to pick two or three, “After we spent so much time together on the Coleman case. You’re an art history professor, you...Have been engaged twice before,” He added, pointing a finger at you. You rolled your eyes a little bit. “Keep going,” You ordered. You raised a brow as Marcus’ brow furrowed a little more, his head turning just a bit. “You don’t have any siblings, you’re not close to your family, and we have not set any plans for the future in stone...Yet.” “Why do you keep tacking on that ‘yet’?” “Because my family knows me. They know I think about those things, and they know I don’t get into relationships unless I really think there’s something there. If they feel me pulling back on that, they’ll think it’s because I’m worried about scaring you off.” “You’re bringing me home not only to meet your family, but to stay there for a week and for a wedding-- which your entire family will be attending. I think that’s a healthy fear,” You retorted. Marcus smiled a little bit, raising his hand in concession. “How’d I do?” He asked. “Much better. You didn’t close your eyes halfway through to remember the details and you stopped ticking things off on your fingers. You do this thing, though, when you’re getting ready to lie, it’s like watching someone wind up for a pitch.” “What do I do?” “You do this--” You imitated Marcus’ furrowed brow and tilted head, “It’s subtle, but you always do it.” “You think my family’ll notice?” “Only if you play poker with them.” Marcus chuckled, slouching back against the arm of the couch and scrubbing his hand over his face. “God, I’m beat,” He muttered. You nodded a little, shutting your notebook and getting ready to tell Marcus that you would get out of his hair. “Wanna go get some dinner?” Was his next question. -- “Did you seriously just order pancakes?” You asked, brows raised. You’d wound up at a diner not too far from Marcus’ apartment - somewhere where the staff seemed to know and were very fond of him. “Yeah,” Marcus nodded firmly, “Dinner is the best time for breakfast.” You chuckled a little, reaching out and taking up your soda. “So, engaged twice?” He asked. You rolled your eyes a little. “Once in college, when I was young and...Quite stupid,” You admitted, “And then once a couple of years ago.” “What happened the second time, if you don’t...Mind?” Marcus cringed a little as he asked. It took you a moment to answer, and he rushed to add, “You don’t have to tell me.” You shook your head. “It’s okay,” You promised, “I, um… I told them that I had a record.” Marcus’ expression softened. “You hadn’t told them before?” “We moved really fast, which I usually don’t when it comes to relationships. I don’t know, usually that stuff is always on my mind when I’m with someone, but with them it never really felt like it mattered. When I did tell them, though, it…” Your eyes lowered to the table as regret twisted in your stomach, “It broke everything.” “Did you tell them what happened?” “They didn’t give me the chance.” The two of you were quiet for a few moments - Marcus digesting this information as you sat in the swirl of bitterness that it had dredged up. “Anyway,” You shook your head, drawing the both of you out of it, “Guess it shouldn’t really matter that they left when they did. I realized later that, given their reaction, they were going to leave no matter when I told them… How much of that you disclose to your family is up to you.” Marcus didn’t say anything for a few moments, searching your face. “Know what I never understood?” He finally asked. “What?” “Why they never nailed any of the people buying from you or your grandmother.” You shot him a skeptical look. “You know that it’s not punishable by law to buy a forgery or be a rich piece of shit.” “You were a kid,” Marcus frowned. You considered this for a moment, directing your eyes to the ceiling to find the best way to order your thoughts. “...I was a minor,” You contended, “But I was old enough to know that what we were doing was wrong. I… I knew that we were duping people, I knew that it was illegal. I knew the paintings were forgeries, and I knew that the people that we were dealing with were dangerous. I’m just lucky I wasn’t tried as an adult.” “You were raised to do all of that and then left hung out to dry by the person that was supposed to protect you,” Marcus argued quietly. You swallowed thickly, hurriedly looking to the table as you felt tears spring up in your eyes. You tried not to think about these things most days. And for Marcus to have this level of empathy, of understanding...You were sure that the man had glanced through your case file at some point when he started working with you, but hadn’t expected this. Most people didn’t look too far past what you were doing to try and understand how you’d come to be in your position. But then, most people weren’t Marcus. “...No wonder I don’t trust easy, huh?” You tried to joke after you’d blinked the tears away and lifted your eyes back to his, a thin smile on your lips. Before he could say another word on the matter, the food arrived.

The two of you tucked in quietly, After a few minutes, you nudged his foot with yours.

“Tell me about Marnie? And her fiancé, um… Hazel, right?” You requested.

Marcus’ face pulled with a fond smile, and you felt ease wash over you again. -- “So, just let me know what the wedding colors are so I don’t wind up wearing a dress that matches them and we should be all good,” You reached for your bag as Marcus pulled his car up in front of your apartment building. “Sure thing.” “And if you think of anything else that your family might ask about us, you know, so we can plan ahead.” “I will.” “Okay-- Oh! Uh… Are you a big PDA guy? Like, is that something your family’s going to expect?” “I tend to be kinda touchy, yeah, but I can tone it down.” “Well, what are we talking about here? Hand-holding, hugging?” “Yeah,” He nodded, “And probably a hand on your shoulder or your back, maybe a kiss on your cheek or forehead or…” Anticipation thrummed through you as his gaze darted to your lips. “‘Kay,” You nodded a little, feeling your heartbeat tick up in your chest. “We don’t have to--” Marcus started to reassure, but you waved him off. “It’s totally fine,” You reassured him, “I trust you.” Marcus smiled at you, a gentle smile overtaking his lips. “Glad to hear it. I’ll get you those wedding colors as soon as I can.” “Thanks,” You smiled, “Night, Marcus.” “Goodnight,” He chuckled as you got out of the car. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana

#The Long Con #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike Fic #Marcus Pike Imagine

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Outro: Love Is Not Over (2)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Nothing, just very cute moments between mom and son.

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: Heyo, if you want to be added to this story's tag list, you can reply to this post or message me!

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou

“Yunho! Are you dressed?” I called up the stairs. “Yes! I’m coming!” Yunho called back in an excited voice. It was a wonder how he could be so awake and peppy at 6am. Maybe it was his hybrid genes... Golden retrievers are notorious for being cheerful dogs.

I heard Yunho’s rapid steps, and he quickly came skipping into the kitchen, immediately hugging my leg. I set down the butter knife I was using to make his lunch and gave him a full hug, kissing his forehead.

“Are you excited for your first day of school?” I asked, picking off some lint that was on his shirt. “Yes! I get to make new friends!” He exclaimed, hopping up and down. It made me chuckle. Even if I was exhausted, he was like a dose of happiness medicine. “I’m glad.” I smiled.

I got Yunho his breakfast and finished preparing his lunch. I did a check over all of his things to make sure he had everything he needed. I checked off every box in my head. Pencil case... Notebook... Water bottle... “Eomma!” Yunho called out for me. I walked over to the dining room and saw him sitting in his chair, still eating his breakfast. “What’s up bub?” I asked. “Can you sit with me? Please?”

I nodded, walking over and sitting in my seat. Yunho smiled and went back to eating. We sat in comfortable silence while I pet his head. I just admired him for a minute. I don’t know what God blessed me with such a son, but whoever it was, I’m indebted to you for life.

Yunho was a calm baby. In the way of, he wasn’t a screamer. I remember Hyejin telling me horror stories about Hajun screaming in the middle of the night, startling both her and Yoongi awake. They worried me when I had Yunho, but he never screamed, maybe once or twice, but he normally kept his volume to a reasonable decibel level.

Yes, Yunho was enthusiastic, but he never raised his voice enough to where it was anything but childlike excitement. As a baby, he’d just cry, but he’d cry softly. There wasn’t a right way to describe it. If I was in the kitchen and he was sitting on a blanket in the living room, I would hear him cry, but it wasn’t ear piercing. Maybe it was due to the small house that I could easily hear him... He was just a calm baby.

When he was around 3 and 4, he started being very emotive and enthusiastic. At first he’d do it all the time, even when he was supposed to be extra quiet. But after teaching him that there's a time and a place to be expressive, he caught on pretty quickly.

That didn’t mean we didn’t have problems though. More than once he’d draw on the walls or walk through the house with his shoes on. Sometimes he was in a foul mood and would throw a fit, but that was rare. There was a time he refused to clean his room, and it hurt my soul to put my foot down, but I was still his mother.

Point being, Yunho was the sun. A sun that deserved the universe.

“Alright bub, are you ready?” I held Yunho’s hand as he stood wide-eyed in front of the school building. Yunho had only been to a small daycare that was also a kindergarten, so this is all new to him. I slowly started walking forward with Yunho walking behind me. It was cute, but I knew he couldn’t hide from school forever. I don’t want to go to jail.

The building was dazzling and straight out of a fairytale. Artwork lined the halls and the walls were painted with dragons and princesses, the occasional mermaid here and there. All in all, a very welcoming place. I could see Yunho’s eyes light up as he looked at the walls, and he was slowly walking next to me again.

We stopped in front of a room labeled, “Mrs. Hopkin’s First Grade Kingdom!” It made me chuckle. The building seemed to have a theme going on here. We walked in, hand in hand, and if I thought the hallways jumped out of a fairytale, this room jumped out of a Disney movie.

It was set up like the ordinary first-grade classroom, but the one wall had a whole mural. There were fairytale decorations hanging from the ceiling. The floor tiles were white with dots of rainbow colors, and they set the desks up in clusters inspired by different fairytale creatures. As in, one table cluster was mermaid-inspired, decorated with scales and a seashell rug underneath. One was dragon-inspired with flame details and a dragon stuffed animal in the middle of the table. A green rug was also underneath the table.

It made you wonder for a second if you stopped at the wrong school because this seemed expensive and you definitely didn’t have the money to send Yunho to a rich kid's school. Being a writer paid well, but not THAT well.

Soon, an old woman walked up to us. She was wearing a floral, floor-length skirt and a white button up. “Hello! I’m Mrs. Hopkin. Welcome!” She smiled, and it was the classic grandmother smile. “Hello! I’m Y/n and this is Yunho.” Yunho waved, still holding my hand. “Lovely to meet you, we’re just about to start!” Mrs. Hopkin exclaimed, so I let Yunho go and ushered him to go play while I went to stand with the rest of the moms and dads.

This was a primarily hybrid school since Yunho and I lived in a predominately hybrid community. Meaning, most the parents were also hybrids, but I didn’t care. I hung around hybrids for 2/3rds of my life. Funnily, hanging out with another human would be odd for me. However, that didn’t stop the occasional side glances and looks I would get.

I was used to it at this point because I stuck out like a neon sign. It happened everywhere I went. We lived in a pretty sizeable community, meaning I didn’t have to go out of town a lot. At first, it made me insecure, but Hyejin and Yoongi snapped me out of it and told me they weren’t judging me; they were just surprised. I remember Yoongi’s wise words... “Look, dumbo, what the hell are they gonna judge you for? Living? Breathing? I already do that, so no need to worry.”

He got a pretty good punch from Hyejin for that one.

Mrs. Hopkin clapped her hands, calling everyone's attention to the front of the class. “Hello everyone! Welcome to first grade!” She exclaimed enthusiastically, “We’ll be going over the rules and then we will say goodbye to our mommies and daddies.” And just like that, she started explaining the basics. It made me think she rehearsed this in a mirror last night. She flowed as if she was running on muscle memory. Or maybe she's been teaching for way too long.

It was fairly simple. Keep your hands to yourself, listen to whoever is speaking, raise your hand, yadda yadda... I’ve been to first grade before. After Mrs. Hopkins finished speaking to the parents about expectations and what happens if one of our kids is bad, she let us all say our goodbyes. Yunho ran and jumped on me, burying his face into my chest.

He was scenting me, showing me he was nervous. “You’ll be okay, bub. I’ll be here to pick you up before you know it.” I pet his head and his tail started wagging. “I don’t want Eomma to go...” He whined. I swore that my heart exploded. “But you were so excited this morning?” I chuckled. “I take it back.” He grumbled. I cooed and softly put him down, unraveling the scarf I had around my neck.

“Here you go. Just for today, okay? You’re a big boy now, Yunnie.” I smiled at his big puppy eyes. Yunho held to scarf to his nose, and I gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, baby.” I whispered. “I love you too, Eomma.”

Stepping out of the school, away from my son, was eye opening. Yunho was growing right before my eyes, and before I know it, he’ll be walking out of this school grown. Ready to tackIe the next level of school. It makes me tear up a bit and I feel like a mother in a slice of life film. I chuckle, shaking my head as I get into my car.

Just as I’m about to start it up, my phone rings. Hyejin. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask, deciding that I’d drive after this call. “Y/n! Thank god you answered!” She sighed in relief. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” She hums and I can hear ruckus in the background. “Yes... No...? I’m in a predicament.”

“What?” I chuckle nervously, unsure if I should be worried. “So... Um... I forgot today was the boy’s first day of school, so Hajun is not there...” She cautions. “Okay? He can go tomorrow.” I reason. “He’s with me... And I can’t watch him, I have to go to work.” If I was in The Office, this would be the moment where I would look directly into the camera with a blank stare.

“Hyejin-”

“I know! You can scold me later... Can you come pick him up? Please~” She begged.

“Yeah, I can... I’m at the school right now.” I grumbled.

“Great! Meet me at the daycare so you don’t have to drive as much. I love you!”

I sighed, shaking my head. She’s going to be the death of me.

#bts #bts fic #bts one shot #jung hoseok #bts hoseok #hobi #hoseok x reader #jhope #jhope x reader #bts hybrid au #hybrid

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marvelgurl · 3 years

Text

Off-Limits: Part 1

Characters: Tom Holland X Reader Osterfield, Harrison Osterfield

Word Count: 2005

Warning: language, fluff (I think that's it...)

A/n: This is the first of many parts. I want to apologize now, this part is a little on the boring side (well that's what I think) but I needed to set a lot of things up in this in this one. It gets better I promise.

Also Feedback is more than welcome, the good and the bad.

Tumblr Masterlist. Off-Limits Masterlist

Today was a hectic day for you to say the least. You had to make sure everything was set for your move back home tomorrow. You have been living in the states for the last four years. You had left home to pursue dancing. You had gotten into Juilliard. It was something that you had dreamed of since you were a little girl. Your mother had signed you up for dance when you were about 4 and you just never took off your ballet slippers. When you had gotten accepted, you were in shock. Only 7% of applicants are actually accepted. With the support of your amazing family, you were able to follow that dream. You had left home at 17, now here you are 21 and a Juilliard graduate.

*Ring

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n!”

“Harrison, how are you?

“I’m good, Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Well since you called me in the middle of me packing, I’m going to say no, I’m not ready at all Haz.”

You were so excited to hear from him. It felt like you haven’t talked to him in ages. When in reality you talked to him almost every day. You were looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. It has been hard on you not being able to see him. You guys were super close before you left. Which made you try that much harder to keep in touch with him. There were nights where you were up extremely late, because of rehearsals, and you still wanted to talk to him. So, you would call, and every time without fail, he would pick up. Some nights you guys would just sit on facetime and not actually be talking. You have fallen asleep on the phone with him many times, but you wouldn’t change those moments for anything.

“Well maybe you should have started earlier.” The sass coming from him made you chuckle.

“I started three days ago. I just get sidetracked easily remember.”

“With what? Have you collected that much stuff in the last four years?”

“No, it’s just I have tons of photos and things that bring up memories. Mostly it’s the stuff that I brought with me that keeps distracting me.”

“Oh well, soon you will be back home, and you won’t have to look at my adorable face through photos anymore.”

“Bold of you to assume that they are all of you.”

“Well who else would they be of?”

“Hold on.”

You switched to facetime. After Haz popped up on your screen you propped up your phone on the table. You walked over to one of your bags and pulled out a box. Bringing it over to the table before opening it. The first photo was of you and Harrison. You were about 6 and he was 5. You had your hand on your hip, you were also kind of glaring at Haz because he was making fun of you for being shorter than him.

“I know this one has you in it, but I absolutely love it. Do you remember when mum took us to that studio to have professional photos taken?” You flipped the photo around for him to see.

“Yeah, I looked good in those photos.”

“Haz, I’m in those photos too.”

“Sorry, my eyes went straight to me.” He gave you a little smile.

“Of course, they did.” You picked up the next one. “This one is of me and my favorite Holland boy.”

You showed him a photo of you and Paddy. It was from the day before you were leaving for New York. He was super upset that you were leaving. He was hugging you and didn’t want to let you go. You asked him if he had a photo of the two of you, would it help him. He of course said yes. So, you pulled your phone out and took a photo. Later you had two of them printed, and you gave one to him and kept one for yourself.

“Aww Paddy. Okay I will give you that one. He’s my favorite too. Next one.”

“You do realize that this isn’t helping me get any packing done.”

“I know but would you rather be doing this or packing?”

“You got me there. Moving on, this one is of Tom and I.”

You show him the photo. Tom had picked you up and had you hanging off his shoulder. You were laughing pretty hard at his sudden movement. You remember being too far back, you thought that he was going to drop you. So, you had wrapped one of your arms around his waist to make sure you had an anchor if you slipped out of his hands.

“If I remember correctly, I took that photo.”

“Okay, I am so done with you.”

“No, wait what else do you have in that box?”

“Umm, a bunch of little things. Like movie stubs, a small notebook that has drawings, concert tickets, some old jewelry that is too small for me now, my first pair of ballet shoes, some cards, figurines and a few other things.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so sentimental.”

“Well I am. This box is basically my life. Everything in here has a memory or a feeling attached to it. Whether it was mine, someone gave it to me or even just one of the photos. I would be absolutely devastated if something happened to it”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a box Y/n.” This caused both of you to chuckle, you could tell he was trying to lighten the mood.

“I guess it is, but it is literally my world in a box.”

You started hearing talking in the background. Harrison looked off to the side and started talking.

“Oh, sorry mate I didn’t realize you were on a call.”

“It’s okay, she won’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Harrison turned his phone slightly to the side so that half of his face was still on screen. The other half was to dark to make out a face. You started looking around at how much you had left to do.

“Y/n?” The voice sounded familiar, but you looked around for a few more seconds.

“Yeah. Hey Haz, I think I should…” When you finally looked back Tom’s face was next to your brothers. “TOM!!”

“Hey! How are you?” He seemed genuinely excited to see you.

“I’m doing alright. I have a lot of packing to finish up in the next few hours though. How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m on holiday right now. I must go back to work in a few months. So, I’m enjoying the time I have at home.”

“That’s great. Soon you will be back to saving people around the neighborhood, right Spiderboy.”

“Oh, now that hurts. It’s Spider-Man Darling.” He put his hand on his heart like you had really offended him.

“Umm… I like Spider-Boy better.” You had a cheeky grin on your face.

“Wow… I didn’t realize how much of an accent you had gotten from being over there.”

“I don’t have an accent.”

“Yes, you do. It would be weird if you didn’t though. You have been there for four years.”

“I personally don’t think I have an accent, but I guess I can’t really hear it while I’m speaking.”

Harrison was just looking between the two of you. He didn’t like the fact that you were flirting with each other, but he didn’t say anything. They have been friends just as long as he and Tom have. He decided to let the two of you talk for a little bit longer.

“I would love to keep talking but I really do have a lot of things left to pack.”

“That’s okay, I will see you when you get back.”

“Absolutely.”

“Bye Y/n. See you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Bye Haz, love you too. Bye Tom.”

“Bye.”

-The Boys-

Harrison ended the call he looked over at Tom, who was looking at his phone with a large grin on his face. Tom quickly noticed that Harrison was looking at him, and his facial expression changed.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Tom had a confused look on his face.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, what’s wrong man?”

“I’m fine.”

“I have known you long enough to know when something is wrong. So, let’s just skip this and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He paused for a few seconds. “How long have you liked Y/n?”

“What?! I don’t, we are just friends.”

“Then why are you flirting with her?”

“I wasn’t. Like I said we are just friends.”

Harrison got up and started walking to the door to leave. “Let’s keep it that way Tom.”

-Back to Y/n-

After the call ended you got back to work. You were able to get the rest of your things packed with little to no distractions. Once that was all done you started on the cleaning. You also made sure to lay out everything on the counter that you would need for the morning. After going through your mental check list, you packed it all into your backpack.

Once everything was done, you looked around the empty apartment. Thinking about all the memories that you have made here. You were going to miss it, but you couldn’t wait to go home.

You remembered back to when Tom and Harrison were in New York. You had been able to see Tom in action. Harrison brought you to set a couple of times while Tom was filming. You had an awesome time seeing how all the things on set work. How even though there are a million different moving parts, they worked like a well-oiled machine. You were also able to meet a few of the cast members while you were there.

In return, you had taken Harrison and Tom with you to a few rehearsals and then your final showcase. You know that it wasn’t as exciting as watching a Marvel movie being made but you wanted to show the guys what you had been doing. They were excited to go with you. After the showcase you had found them, they were telling you how awesome you had done. They also told you how proud of you they were. Tom had gotten you a bouquet of flowers, which was another thing you had in your box. You had taken a couple of the flowers and pressed them until they dried. Then you sealed them so that they would stay like that forever.

The next day, you were up early enough that it didn’t seem like you had gotten any sleep. You packed your rental car with all your bags before going to return your keys to the landlord. Then you were off to the airport. After the car was returned, bags were checked and you were on the plane, you finally felt like you could relax. You had a 7-hour flight ahead of you. You had plenty of things to distract you for that time. You would be getting to London around 20:00 (8pm) Due to the time change.

Once you landed, you had to get a trolley for your luggage. Your Mother had dropped off a car for you. Thankfully she had given you a spare key before leaving. You packed the car and drove home. You had so much anxiety built up from the last few days. Now as you were getting closer, you could start to feel all of it melting away.

You pulled the car up in front of your childhood home. You decide to sit there for a few moments. You couldn’t believe after all this time you were finally home. You loved America, but nothing can compare to being back in London. You took a deep breath before getting out of the car. You decided to unload all your bags and carry them up the stairs to the door. After you had everything there, you were finally ready to opened the door.

Off-Limits Tags:

@aidinniram @houseofflufff @justafangirlduh @shrutipatel08

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #harrison osterfield #reader osterfield #mcu imagine #mcu cast #rpf #rpf tom holland #fan fiction #fanfic #off-limits #new series #fluff #angst #part 1 #holland brothers #Tom holland X Reader osterfield

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

hello, im always on the hunt for new funky fresh yandere!suga content! i really enjoyed the post you made for him, it's exactly up my alley! would it be possible to request a gender neutral reader finding out just how much suga's been stalking them after they left him? by stumbling on something they shouldnt see (could be a dark room, or a journal, whatever youd like) and have him walk in on them then?

Suga will always be my first Haikyuu love, so of course!

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

TW stalking

Red Handed

When you were a little kid, your mom told you a story.

It was about a handsome man with a blue beard, the woman who married him despite the warning signs, and a locked cellar that was never supposed to be opened. You were too young to hear it, but as horrifying as it was - it stuck with you.

Curiosity can be a dangerous thing.

But sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help yourself.

In your defence it wasn’t so much a wilful breaking of trust so much as it was an honest mistake. Sort of.

It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself pouring over textbooks and hastily scrawled notes with Suga, but it is the first time it’s been just the two of you - and the first time it’s been at his place instead of yours.

“I give up,” you moan, letting your head fall flat against your notebook. “I’m gonna fail this stupid exam, drop out of school and have to resort to finding some rich, attractive guy to marry and support me instead.”

You’ve been at it for hours, the two of you spread out on his couch, a mountain of snacks between the two of you. You have to give Suga credit for that - the man knows how to keep you motivated to stay but this, this was beyond your limit. It’s never a good sign when you reread the same sentence five times and still have no idea what it says.

A soft laugh sounds and there’s a hand rubbing soothingly at your back, “Aw c’mon, don’t be so dramatic. You got me, right?”

You lift your head slightly to find him smiling at you with that same fond exasperation, and almost without meaning to you find your frown softening. It’s true. Suga’s pretty much your lifeline at this point - not to mention the reason you’re actually doing pretty well in most of your classes this semester.

God only knew where he found the patience.

“What, you gonna marry me when they kick me out in disgrace?” you ask with a wry half grin, pushing yourself away from your notes. “Take care of my freeloading ass?”

Suga doesn’t say anything for a moment. You brace yourself for the lecture and/or pep-talk he’s given you a thousand and one times before, but when you glance up at him again, the look on his face isn’t the one you’re expecting.

He’s still smiling, but there’s something… odd about it.

It’s just a flash, a flicker of something fleeting in his eyes-

You blink, and whatever it is- was - it’s gone and Suga’s looking at you with the same expression he always wears whenever you start bemoaning your future and the possibility of failing.

Huh… your eyebrows draw together, the faintest hint of unease teasing at your gut. Just for a moment - a split second - you could have sworn that…

But no, you’re just tired. Your brain is absolutely fried after hours studying, whatever you thought you saw, you must have imagined. Because Suga’s your friend. A good friend, maybe the best one you’ve ever had. Still… you really shouldn’t tease him like that.

“Hey, you know I’m kidding, right?” you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Anyway, I think I’m done. I can’t look at these stupid notes anymore - they’re making even less sense than when we started.”

Suga sighs, rolling his neck and flipping the cover of the textbook shut. “Well I suppose it is getting late. Are you hungry? I can order some take out if you want-”

You shake your head before he can finish, “Nah, can’t tonight. I have a date,” you say, shooting him a wink. “Next time though? When everyone’s free. I feel a little guilty stealing all of your time for a one on one session as it is.”

Suga stills for a moment, glancing up to find you smiling sheepishly back at him. “Oh, a date? With that guy from class?” he asks, busying himself in tidying up the notes spread out across the coffee table.

That guy from class. Yeah, the one you haven’t been able to shut up about for weeks. That one.

“Yeah. Nothing crazy, just dinner and a movie - still, I think it’ll be fun, y’know?” You were trying for a blasé tone, but somehow you think the slight dusting of pink on your cheeks kind of ruins it a little bit.

So maybe you were a little excited about it - it wasn’t a crime was it?

Suga gives a non-committal hum, but doesn’t say any more on the topic. Together it doesn’t take the two of you long to clean up, gather your notes and stash the snacks back away for the next study session.

You still have enough time to dart home, have a shower and get ready, but- “Hey, before I go, is it okay if I use your bathroom?” you ask a little shyly. You guys have been friends for months, and you definitely don’t want to come across as rude, but you can’t deny there’s still something slightly embarrassing at having to ask permission.

“Yeah, of course. Down the hallway, last door on the right.”

You nod, thanking him quietly.

It’s a simple mistake. At the end of the hallway, there are two identical doors, both closed over.

Last door on the… left? That’s what he said, right?

You twist the doorknob, easing the door open and within a split second you know that you’ve got the wrong door because this is definitely not a bathroom, but…

Curiosity pushes you forward.

It’s Suga’s bedroom. Your feet move like they have a mind of their own, drawing you in further into his room. You’ve never been to his place before, and you’ve definitely never been in his bedroom before, but you can’t deny that you’re curious. Surprisingly it’s not the mess that you’re expecting - the double bed neatly made and aside from a sweater tossed haphazardly across the back of a chair and a pair of jeans that hadn’t quite made it into the laundry hamper, there’s no dirty clothes littering the floor.

You know it’s rude to pry. You know that, but in that moment you can’t seem to help yourself. Suga won’t mind, really, and it was an honest mistake.

There’s an acoustic guitar in the corner (does he play it, you wonder) and a volleyball covered in signatures sitting on one of the shelves above his desk. Even now, you know that he loves the sport with his whole heart. You’ve never been to a game before, but part of you thinks you’d like to, Suga always makes it sound so exciting. You find a smile creeping across your face as you wander over to have a closer look - there’s photo’s everywhere, in frames, pinned to a cork board on the wall - him with his family, with his friends, even one of the two of you together… and is that a medal?

You’re startled out of your thoughts by your phone vibrating in your pocket.

It should have been a wake up call, a sign from the universe to snap out of whatever nosy spell you’d managed to find yourself under and get out of Sugawara’s bedroom before he comes in to find you blatantly invading his privacy. It should have been - except instead you reach for your phone and fumble.

You’re incredibly thankful for the carpeted floor because you can only watch in horror as your phone clatters to the ground and bounces (bounces!) under his bed.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath, dropping to your knees and resting your cheek against the mattress as you reach blindly into the dark space.

It takes a second of fumbling before your hand lands on something. It’s not your phone, you can tell that much right off the bat - it’s bigger, a box of some kind.

You should have left it.

Really, Sugawara’s a young, healthy guy like any other - you have an inkling of what could be inside the box. And it’s not like you want to see whatever spank bank material your friend has stashed away, you don’t, but…

But there’s a voice in your head that ignores all of that. A voice that whispers so delightfully, so eagerly, for you to just open it.

Open it, it whispers as you slide it out and set it down on the bed, settling yourself down beside it.

Open it, it whispers as you run your fingers along the wooden lid, sanded smooth except for the intricate carving in the centre. It’s strangely beautiful you think - not exactly the kind of box you can imagine filling with something so lewd.

Maybe it’s not what you think… maybe Suga has something else stashed away in this pretty little box. What else could it be? What does a guy like Sugawara Koushi have hidden away under his bed?

Open it, it whispers as your fingers find the edge and you slowly slide it open.

You immediately wish you hadn’t.

It’s you.

The photo’s a little blurry, taken from a distance and zoomed in, but it’s definitely you, lying in your bed, head thrown back with your eyes closed, bottom lip caught between your teeth-

The sheets obscure the rest, but from the flush on your cheeks and the arm disappearing between your spread legs, it’s obvious what you’re doing.

There’s more. You with your friends, laughing. You out with your ex, maybe a month or so before you’d broken up. You in your bedroom again, a white fluffy towel wrapped around you, your hair still wet from the shower.

You walking home from class, taken from behind.

You in your favourite cafe, sitting by the window with a steaming mug in hand, staring out with a soft smile.

You tucked up on the couch, eating dinner with the TV playing in the background.

You.

Every single photograph was of you, and every single one of them taken without your knowledge. Pictures of you from last year, long before you ever met Suga. How long has he been-

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the thought. You feel sick, violated, your hands trembling as you flick through the images. You don’t want to see any more, but you can’t seem to stop yourself. You at the park with your friends, walking their dogs and chatting aimlessly. You bending over to pick up something, the shot framing your ass in a way that seems almost… lewd.

When did he take these? H-how had you never noticed?

Oh god, some of these are from outside your home.

Your stomach churns, you might actually vomit…

“Got lost, baby?”

You jump at the sudden interruption, quickly snapping the lid shut and shoving the little box of horrors away from you like it’s poison, hurried excuses already on the tip of your tongue - but it’s too late for that.

One look at Sugawara, standing framed in the doorway, watching you with an eerily calm expression upon his face and you know that it doesn’t matter what you say. There’s no denying what you’ve seen.

No coming back from it.

His eyes drift to the box, the incriminating pictures spilled across his sheets and he sighs. “You know, I wanted to make this special for you. I wanted to do this right.” His hazel eyes flicker back to you as he steps inside his bedroom and shuts the door behind him. The soft click has never sounded so deafening. So final. “But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just couldn’t keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong.”

Your heart thumps painfully against your ribs, the sound so loud that you’re sure he has to be able to hear it too. It’s not nausea that seeps through your veins, keeping you frozen in place, but fear. Suga’s always been such a gentle presence in your life but there’s no trace of that person left as he closes the distance between the two of you.

It’s all been a lie, a carefully crafted facade designed to pull you in. Do you even know him at all?

“S-suga, what-”

“Shh,” he murmurs, placing a finger across your lips, a soft, delicate smile playing across his features. “Didn’t your parents ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?” He pauses for a moment, watching with wicked delight as your face pales and you jerk away from his touch with a strangled gasp. “It’s okay, baby, there’s no need to look so worried. Don’t you know I’d forgive you anything?”

His lips crash against yours before you can even think to reply.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere suga #yandere suga x reader #yandere sugawara koushi #yandere sugawara x reader #yandere sugawara koushi x reader #yandere imagines #my writing #yandere hq #yandere fic #sugawara x reader #suga x reader

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silverynight · 3 years

Text

What does your heart want?

Reki starts thinking that something's going on when Miya comes into the shop to invite him to watch him race Shadow.

"I want you to see me beat him," Miya says with confidence, he doesn't need to appear that smug since Reki knows he's probably going to win. "Bring Langa as well."

Even though it's very common for his friends (and actually everyone at school) to ask Reki instead of Langa himself somehow that day it's the first that he realizes it's a little bit weird.

"You can invite him yourself, he's inside," Reki tells the boy, pointing behind himself.

Miya chuckles, looking smug again, like he knows something Reki doesn't. It's a little irritating.

"There's no need," he says. "If you go, he goes."

Frowning in confusion, Reki leans over the counter to look at Miya more intently.

"What if he has something else to do... What if–"

"I can't believe you haven't noticed!" Miya rolls his eyes at the redhead, although the things he's saying only confuse Reki even more.

Langa walks out of the back door, smiling at Reki as soon as he sees him, then he turns his head at Miya.

"Fine..." The boy says. "Just watch this, Reki. Hey, Langa! Would you come to 'S' tonight to see me beat Shadow?"

Langa doesn't answer him, instead he looks at Reki.

"Are we going to 'S' tonight?"

Reki knows that's something Langa has asked many times before, but he had never questioned or actually thought about it. Not really.

"Yes," he says, feeling a little bit flustered out of the sudden.

Langa nods and smiles back at Miya.

"We'll be there," he tells him and the boy grins but he looks right at Reki before he finally goes.

***

Miya wins, although it's not a surprise; Shadow is already sulking in the background, but doesn't say 'No' when they invite him to celebrate Miya's victory.

"Where would you like to go to have dinner?" Cherry asks, holding his skateboard in his arms like it's his baby.

The boy's lips part as he's about to say something, however, he closes his mouth quickly before glancing from Langa to Reki with a mischievous smirk.

"I want Langa to choose," he says.

Knowing Miya is probably planning something, Reki frowns, Joe looks amused, Cherry irritated and Shadow confused.

"Okay," Langa nods right before turning to look at Reki. "What do you want to eat?"

Surprised, Reki's brows quirk up. Yes, he knows that's something Langa asks almost every single night, but this is different. He was told to choose.

"Miya wants you to choose," he insists, but Langa's expression doesn't change.

He's stubborn, determined and once he sets up his mind to something, there's not much anyone can do about it.

"I love food," he says simply. "I'll eat anything. But I want to know what you'd like."

"A burger, but–"

They don't even let him finish, they just get in Shadow's car and Reki rides on the bike behind Langa.

***

This time, they don't go to 'S', instead all of their friends stay in the park just to skate with each other.

Even though they have fun (Cherry and Joe tell them stories about when they started skateboarding) after a couple of hours they all start to get tired.

Langa looks particularly exhausted... Well, he's mostly hungry, but he doesn't have the energy to do anything else. At some point he sits on the ground, sulking, while Reki keeps talking happily about all the improvements he could do to Shadow's board.

"I'm hungry, Reki," he mumbles at some point, tugging at the redhead's trousers.

"I know, just a minute, alright?"

However, just as Langa nods, Reki realizes he's being unfair so he decides to do something he's never done before.

As Cherry and Joe are saying goodbye, Reki looks down at Langa.

"You should go with them," he tells him. "It'll take me a couple of minutes more to draw a new design for Shadow, so... Maybe you should head home. We'll see each other tomo–"

"I'm fine," there it is, that determined look on Langa's face again. "I can wait."

Joe, Cherry and Miya are watching with amusement, Reki has no idea why is that funny, so he glares at them.

"But you're hungry..."

"I'll wait for you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

***

They're back in 'S' and even though it's one of Langa's favorite places, he doesn't look that happy that night. Reki has tried to ask him a couple of times, but his friend insists he's fine so he decides not to bring up the subject anymore.

He's on his board, moving around the place, he doesn't seem interested in doing any tricks either.

"Do you know what's going on with Langa?" Reki finally gives in and asks his friends. Shadow is racing someone else at the moment, so it's just Miya, Cherry and Joe with him.

Miya rolls his eyes.

"That idiot is pouting because he saw you talking to that girl outside Joe's restaurant."

"Aiko?" Reki frowns, trying to remember the conversation, she was just telling him something about school. "Oh, I see..."

Everyone looks at him. They're staring expectantly, like they all have been waiting for this moment for a while.

Then Cherry looks into his eyes and he sighs, irritated. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"No, he doesn't understand."

"Yes, I do!" Reki protests, offended. He doesn't like the idea in his mind, but if it's what Langa wants... "He wants to talk with her. Maybe he's into her or something."

Miya facepalms himself.

"I thought he was the idiot, but you are even worse," he narrows his eyes, for a moment he looks like he wants to pull his hair out. "How can you be so blind? Langa is anything but subtle! He's in love with you!"

Reki freezes, but he feels all warm inside. His cheeks are bright red.

"He's not," he mumbles, weakly.

"He is. He always looks at you like he wants to worship you. It's honestly disgusting."

"I–I" the others are not helping, because no one does or say anything to deny what Miya is saying. It's almost like they believe he's right. "Listen, Langa is my best friend and we're close but–"

Miya grabs him by the arm and leads him towards a group of girls (Snow's fans) that are trying to get Langa's attention.

As soon as they get close, Langa turns around and even though he doesn't look that happy, he still smiles at Reki.

"Those girls have been trying to get Langa to do a trick for them, but he's still jealous of the girl you were talking to so he doesn't even pay attention to them," Miya whispers to him. "He's obviously not in the mood to show off."

"Why are you telling me this?" Reki, still blushing as watches Langa getting even closer to them.

"Ask him to do a trick for you, anything... He'll do it."

"I don't see why–"

"Reki! What is it? Do you want to go somewhere else?" Langa asks him.

Feeling like he's about to something ridiculous, Reki sighs.

"Can you... uh... Do a jump for me?" He's not sure why he feels so flustered at the moment, he's asked Langa to demostrate something a couple of times before. "But of course if you don't–"

However, his friend is already preparing himself to do it. Everyone looks at him and the girls giggle and watch in awe as Langa jumps over the ramp.

Everyone's cheering for him (he's still the one who defeated Adam after all so he's kind of famous now) and they try to get his attention, but it's useless, Langa moves quickly back to where Reki and Miya are.

"Did you like it?" He asks Reki with a grin. He's looking better now; his eyes glimmering with a little bit of hope.

"You were amazing," Reki says because it's the truth although he's not prepared for the way Langa beams at him.

"Do you want me to do another?"

"No... It's fine. I'm hungry actually..."

"Alright, let's go then," Langa says without hesitation.

Miya smiles at Reki knowingly but the redhead shakes his head when Langa isn't looking.

"This doesn't mean anything."

***

They're sitting outside Cherry's place, where they first met. Langa is staring intently at Reki while the redhead explains a new design for a board he has in mind.

Then, a girl from their class arrives.

"Langa, my friends wanted me to ask you to go to a party with us. It's this Friday. It's in my house..."

Reki is used to getting ignored when Langa is around so he keeps drawing on his notebook.

But then, Langa looks back at him.

"Do you want to go?"

Before he can say anything, the girl frowns.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have that much space in my house, so I... I'm afraid Reki can't–he's not invited."

Reki is about to say that it's fine when he notices the dangerous expression on Langa's face. Even the girl takes a step back.

"Then I'm not interested."

The girl pales. She's not happy, but she doesn't know what to say, she wasn't expecting such a response.

"I'll talk to him," Reki promises her just before she storms away.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Langa, listen... I appreciate your loyalty," he says sincerely. "But I promise I won't get mad if you go, alright? You're more popular than I am so it's obvious you'll get to be invited to places I don't. If you want to–"

"I don't want to go if you're not there," Langa says almost fiercely.

Reki looks back, blushing. His heart beating inside his chest like it's going to explode.

"Alright. But you have to promise that you're going to stop doing things just because I want to do them. You can tell me if you're not in the mood to do something instead of asking me every time."

"I want the things you want."

Reki rolls his eyes, he's still not sure if he's exasperated or charmed by Langa's response.

"What about the things you want? Tell me what you want."

Langa leans closer, he blushes as he takes Reki's hands in his. And that's when Reki notices the adoration in his eyes.

"I want to please you. To give you everything your heart wants."

That's all Reki needs to realize he's very much in love with Langa. Those words take his breath away.

"That's... Really sweet, but I mean something more, not just to please me... What do you want?"

Langa is still staring at him, his eyes are glimmering when he smiles at Reki.

"I want you."

For a moment, Reki relaxes and he chuckles.

"You already have me. We're best friends, remember?"

"I want more," Langa says in a whisper. His face is really close to Reki's. "I want to kiss you."

"Well... You can. I'm right he–"

He doesn't get to finish, Langa is hungry, desperate for him, almost like he's been waiting for a long time for that moment. His kiss is possessive and demanding, but it's the best Reki has ever had.

They're start dating after that and even though Miya claims they're disgusting, Reki knows he doesn't really mean it.

***

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#renga #langa hasegawa #reki kyan #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #miya chinen

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journalxxx · 3 years

Text

By Hook or by Crook (2)

May 1st, 2270

“Hello, Izuku.” “Hi, dad.” Izuku hadn’t exactly been dreading this conversation, but he hadn’t been looking forward to it either. He’d hoped his mom would do all the talking, having to break the news to his friends had been hard enough. For him. Most of them seemed to have gotten quite the kick out of it. “How are you? Your mother told me you’ve been having a rough couple of weeks.” “Mh.” “Still upset over that visit?” “Mh.” “Speak, son. Sulking doesn’t translate well over the phone.” His father chided gently.

Izuku sighed. “The doctor said I’m never going to get a quirk. I’m sorry.” “Whatever for? It’s not like you have any choice in the matter. Quirks are innate, surely you know that.” “Yes, I do.” Izuku said, staring at the paused frame of All Might’s debut video on the computer screen. The reflection of his own miserable face was superimposed with the triumphant silhouette of the hero. “But I’m sorry anyway. You have such a cool quirk… and mom’s useful too. I could become a great hero with one of them, but I’m never going to get any.” “Again, that’s none of your fault. And I wouldn’t be so sure of that anyway.” “Uh?” Izuku gulped, gripping the phone tightly. “Y-you don’t think I’d make a good hero?” “No, that’s not what I mean.” His father chuckled. “I mean that I wouldn’t lose hope just yet. You’re very young, there’s still plenty of time for your quirk to manifest.” “But the doctor said that all quirks appear before one is four years old. And I’m four. And I have the extra toe joint-” “Tsk! Some doctor they assigned you. As if one could unerringly guess the nature and development of something as unpredictable as a quirk with a single test. An x-ray, of all things. Ancient technology.” “The doctor said there was a study...” “I have an extra toe joint too, you know.” Izuku’s father laughed hearing his son’s surprised gasp. “Studies like the one your doctor mentioned draw conclusions based on the analysis of hundreds, thousands of cases. Those conclusions may hold true for the majority of them, but there are always outliers. Having that oh-so-precious joint and a quirk is indeed rare, but not unheard of.” “B-But…” Izuku’s eyes burned with the feeling of impending tears. He hadn’t expected his father’s reaction to be like this. No one had even remotely doubted the validity of the doctor’s opinion. No one. It almost hurt to hope. “I’m also too old…” “My own quirk didn’t show until I was… fifteen? Maybe sixteen. Way older than you are, anyway. Another important point to consider, don’t you think?” Izuku sniffled. Then cried, quietly. His father remained silent as the boy let the tears flow freely, wiping them on his arm now and then. There was a tangled ball of emotions deep in his chest, that he couldn’t quite unravel. After a couple of minutes though, the sobs abated and he felt better. Better than he had been feeling before his mom handed him the phone. “...Do you really think the doctor was wrong?” “You shouldn’t believe everything doctors tell you. My personal physician keeps calling me ‘the peak of biological and anthropological evolution’, but that’s because he’s been fishing for a raise for years. Clearly you’d expect a Darwinian champion to be able to walk under the sun without protection for more than five minutes without turning into a peeling tomato.” “Uh? Does that really happen to you?” “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that I’m albino? My skin is very sensitive to sunlight, and it burns easily. I have atrocious eyesight too.” “I didn’t know that.” Izuku winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.” “Not nearly as much as you think. I have plenty of skills and tools at my disposal to compensate. It isn’t an inconvenience at all these days, although it did cause me some grief when I was a child.” His father’s tone got softer. “Sometimes it does feel like our bodies are our own worst enemies, doesn’t it?” Izuku hummed in assent, very much agreeing with the sentiment. “I’m happy it doesn’t hurt you any more.” “And I’m glad you didn’t inherit this nuisance from me.” A sudden thought made its unwelcome way in Izuku’s head. “If… If I didn’t inherit your skin and eyes… maybe I won’t inherit your quirk either…” “Izuku.” His father’s tone was kind but firm. There were times when his presence, even just through his voice, felt way more real and solid than that of many people Izuku habitually shared a room with. “Your ability will emerge one day, I’m positive of that. Just give it time and don’t agonize over it.” Izuku nodded, even though he realized that wouldn’t translate well over the phone either. “...Okay.” “Now, what else have you been up to in this past month, other than brooding over a criminally incompetent diagnosis?” Not much, honestly, but Izuku told him anyway. As he kept chatting, his heart grew lighter than it had been in weeks. Mom did always say that his father was a good listener.

July 1st, 2272 “They were talking about it on TV yesterday. It’s an old incident from some years ago, before All Might met Nighteye!” “I see...” “Not many people know about it, because there’s no villain involved, and villains make all the stories more interesting! But it’s a great story nonetheless!” Izuku rattled on enthusiastically, taking advantage of his father’s unresponsive compliance. “Uh-huh...” “So this boy was having some big troubles, I think, and he jumped into a river because he didn’t know what to do about them. But luckily All Might was around! Do you know what he did?” “He offered to cover all the expenses for the years of therapy the boy would need afterwards?” “Uh… They didn’t say that on TV. I don’t know. I think he just rescued him from the river.” “That doesn’t seem to address the underlying problem.” His father commented icily. “Daaad, you’re ruining the story.” Izuku chided him. “Anyway, the funny part is that this boy had a quirk that could turn water into vinegar, and he activated it in a panic while he was drowning.” “Mh. A peculiar quirk...” “So All Might got all drenched in vinegar when he dove in to save him. He made this very silly face in front of the cameras, it was great! And when the boy apologized for causing trouble, guess what All Might told him?” “I’m sorry I’m the living embodiment of this unfair, hypocritical society that has driven you to the brink of despair?” “No. He said,” Izuku continued, breezing past his father’s petty remarks with practiced ease, “It is I who should thank you. My skin’s looking ten years younger now.” “Oh my God…” The man groaned, and a loud thunk-crash noise accompanied his words. “Oh, come on!” Izuku giggled, covering his mouth with his free hand. “It’s so funny!” “Just because they’re called ‘dad jokes’ doesn’t mean I’m legally obligated to laugh at them.” “But it is funny! All Might’s the funniest! Did you know that he just wrote a joke book? It’s called All Might’s Gags and Jokes: A Compendium. It already has amazing reviews! They say it’s warm and relatable and cy.. cyclical…” “He wrote a joke book. A veritable Renaissance man, this one...” His father muttered. Izuku heard something clink in the background. Probably the pieces of whatever his father dropped. “Mom says she’ll buy it for my birthday!” Izuku added, swinging his whole body on his chair in sheer excitement. “That is such a poor use of your remittance. I’ll need to have a couple of words with her…” “It’s for my education!” Izuku enunciated with solemnity, straightening his posture. “There’s a whole chapter of American puns and word plays! It will help me learn English!” “If you want to learn English on your own so soon, please choose a decent source. Start with basic grammar and alphabet books, watch some subtitled shows and movies to get the hang of the correct pronunciation-” “I’m learning a lot from All Might already! The catchphrase he used when he was in college in California was I am here! When he’s surprised, he says Oh my goodness! When he doesn’t believe something, he says Nonsense!” Izuku parroted, taking great care of imitating All Might’s confident, surprised and disbelieving expressions respectively. They would be lost on his father, but he needed to practice them anyway. “If that’s a good American accent, I’m the next Symbol of Peace.” “Dad.” Izuku said, suddenly very serious. He had a very important question to ask, and it had been a long time coming. “Why do you always make fun of him? It’s like… It’s almost like you don’t like him at all.” The words sounded so wrong he almost wasn’t brave enough to say them. Izuku would have been mortified if anyone had moved such an accusation on him. “I suppose he has a sort of… charisma about him.” His father admitted ruefully. “I can’t say it strikes any chords with me though.” “Are you just jealous of him?” Izuku asked shrewdly. “Kacchan also talks a lot of trash about All Might, but it’s obvious he’s just jealous. It’s all right if you are, though, I mean, he’s so-” “I’m this close to hanging up, Izuku.” “But- but how can you not like All Might?! Everyone likes All Might! Boys and girls, children and grown-ups! From age 0 to 100!” “...I guess I just don’t fit the target demographic then.” Izuku huffed. “You’re so boring, dad.” “Says the one who’s been talking my ear off about the same topic for the last forty minutes.” The boy frowned, nibbling at his lip. “...Sorry. Am I annoying you?” “I’ll admit I may have hit my monthly tolerance limit of All Might trivia. Don’t worry about it though.” Izuku did in fact stop worrying, his father’s amusement clearly detectable in his voice. “I think I’ll be able to bear with your unabashed enthusiasm until you hit your mandatory disillusioned teenage phase. Then we’ll see if that obnoxiously cheery act of his will still resonate with you.”

June 2nd, 2274 “His normal body temperature is about two degrees higher than the average. Around 38-39 °C.” “And what can you deduce from that?” Izuku’s father goaded. The boy stared at the scribbles in his notebook in deep thought. “Uhm… that it’s difficult to tell if he has a fever or not?” His father laughed, but not unkindly. “I wouldn’t think so. You just said yourself that that is his normal temperature. Therefore, I wouldn’t call Endeavor’s doctor unless his thermometer read more than 39.5 °C, probably.” “Right.” Izuku nodded. That was obvious, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he understood that on his own? His father didn’t seem to mind his blunder though. “Try again.” “I think…” Izuku’s eyes were just about to bore a hole into his rough sketch of the hero’s costume. He gave up after the silence started to make him uncomfortable though. “...I don’t know. What can I deduce from that?” “Hm… You did bring up an interesting point. Do you know how fever works, Izuku?” “Yeah. Your body temperature rises when you’re sick. If it rises too much, you can get in serious trouble, you could even die. It never really gets that bad though.” “But why does it rise? What does your body accomplish by doing that?” “Uh…” Izuku frowned. He was sure he’d read or heard something about that, but the details escaped him at the moment. “To help you fight off the sickness, right? You feel worse at first, but it actually helps you get better.” “Exactly. Most bacteria and viruses that infect men thrive and multiply optimally at around 37 °C, which is the average person’s normal body temperature. But the growth of these microorganisms is hindered when the environment gets too hot. That is the principle that makes fever useful for humans. As your body gets hotter, it debilitates the invasors, so that your immune system can remove them more easily.” “..Oh.” It was a pity that his father called him only once a month, Izuku could have easily listened to him for hours every day. He always had so many interesting things to say about so many different subjects, and he always exposed them so neatly. “So. Can you deduce anything new now?” “Uh, uhm… He… I guess he...” Izuku snapped out of his reverie. Right, this was a conversation, not a lesson. He went over the new information in his head as quickly as he could. Higher temperature than normal... Fever... Microorganisms... Immune syst- Oh! “He heals quicker than- no, wait! He doesn’t get sick at all! Because he’s always too hot for the microorganisms! They can’t grow in his body!” “Excellent reasoning!” His father’s warm praise made Izuku’s chest swell with pride. “Obviously he isn’t completely immune to any and all infections, there are lots of exceptions to the mechanism I just explained to you. But yes, I do believe it’s safe to assume that our esteemed Flame Hero suffers from the occasional seasonal maladies far less often than the general population, if at all.” “That’s so cool…” Izuku immediately added the new data to his notes, almost breaking the tip of the pencil in his enthusiasm. “Is that what you wanted me to deduce? Or did you explain that just because I brought up the fever thing?” “I was actually thinking of something else. But, on second thought, it may be too technical a topic for an eight-year-old.” “...Can you tell me about it anyway?” “Of course.” Izuku would never not be grateful for the patience his father had, never denying him any clarification on anything. He was just about the only adult who never got tired of his questions. Even his mom sometimes hid her fatigue behind a mildly insincere I don’t know. “High heat isn’t exactly conductive to the activity of human cells either. That’s one of the reasons why you feel exhausted and achy when you have a fever, your body struggles to keep doing what it’s supposed to do above its normal temperature range. But Endeavor not only is at peak condition at 39 °C, he can also withstand open flames with a much higher temperature. This suggests that his cells must be fundamentally different from the average person’s on a biochemical level, that his quirk must provide some particularly efficient cellular mechanism to prevent heat damage. One example might be some dedicated enzymes to protect proteins from denaturation, but now I’m entering mere speculation.” A pause. “Did you follow me?” “...Kind of.” Izuku said, kind of lying but not entirely. He had followed most of that. He scrawled and circled a couple of terms he hadn’t grasped - Biochemical - Enzymes - Denaturation - on the page. He didn’t want to waste his father’s time by asking him to explain the meaning of words he could easily look up later on his own. “The gist of it is that Endeavor’s Hellflame has at least two facets. Not only ‘creating fire’, but also ‘not incinerating himself’. The first trait would be a fatal liability without the second.” “Got it!” Izuku cheered. Now that he had understood completely. “You sure know a lot about quirks, dad! Like, a lot! About anything, really!” “For the sake of intellectual honesty, it must be said that it isn’t difficult to impress a primary schooler.” His father laughed. “I’m just older than you.” “How much older?” Izuku asked, realizing for the first time that no one had ever told him his father’s age. “Oh, by a lot. Centuries.” Izuku cackled. “You can’t be that old. You still go to work. Our neighbors are 80 and they’re already retired.” “I do try to keep a youthful outlook on life. But yes, quirks fascinate me quite a bit. And they make for the perfect topic to distract you from your incessant yapping about All Might.” “Speaking of All Might-” “No, I-” His father sighed theatrically. “I just walked into this one, didn’t I?” “Yep.” Izuku grinned. “What about his quirk? Do you know anything about it? He never gives straight answers when people ask him about it…” “That may be the single sign of intelligence he’s ever displayed. The more your enemies know about your quirk, the easier it is for them to find your weaknesses. I’m surprised the other pro heroes aren’t as reserved.” “I wonder why All Might does that, though. His quirk is… pretty obvious.” Izuku pondered. “It just makes him strong. Very strong. Like, the strongest ever. But that’s it.” “Allegedly, yes. But as you noticed yourself, if raw power was all there was to it, there would be no reason to skirt around the issue in interviews, no?” “So there must be something else… What do you think it might be?” “I think it would be no less than cruel to deprive you of the thrill of carrying out your own research.” Izuku let out a dissatisfied moan, and his father chuckled. “You are already so very proficient at it. Your mother told me you’ve already filled a whole notebook with hero and quirk analyses.” “Oh, ehr… It’s just stuff I read here and there…” “Mh, I’ve heard enough of your ‘stuff’ to know that there’s more than random factoids in that head of yours. In fact…” Izuku felt his cheeks warm for the compliment. “I think you’ve gotten old and judicious enough to be trusted with my emergency number.” “Uh? What emergency number?” “It’s a phone number I’ll always answer to, on any day and at any hour, in case you may find yourself in a bad situation. Hopefully you’ll never need it, but better safe than sorry. Now…” His father’s voice raised slightly, drowning out Izuku’s impending interruption. “Can I rely on the fact that you are aware that desperately wanting to tell me that All Might saved a kitten from a meteor does not qualify as an emergency?” Izuku pouted. “I know what an emergency is, dad.” “Good. Ask your mother to give you the number then. Don’t save it on your phone or write it anywhere. Memorize it, and be responsible with it.”

December 3rd, 2275 Sorry for the long silence. I had an accident on the job and I won’t be able to speak clearly for a while. We can talk with the included devices. Use your ring finger to activate them. Usual days, usual hours. Hisashi That short note held the first words Izuku had received from his father in the last five months. The first month he hadn’t phoned, Izuku had felt slightly disappointed, but understanding. His father was a busy man, surely something very important must have been requiring his full-time attention. It was fine, Izuku was confident he could manage to sweet-talk him into a double-length call the following month to make up for that. The second month, he had started to worry. His mother hadn’t heard from his father either. It was unprecedented not to hear from him for such a long time. Since Izuku could remember, his father had never skipped one of their monthly calls. They often talked on the first day of every month, and he kept trying to contact them exactly once each following day if his calls were missed. He never failed to reach them past the third day. He always called from a hidden number, so trying to get hold of him was not an option. The third month, Izuku’s mother had decided to use the emergency number. She hadn’t been able to get through to her husband, but the polite colleague of his who had picked up had reassured her that he was indisposed but overall fine, and would get in touch with them as soon as possible… which could still take a while. Curiously, the coworker had also instructed them to collect a sample of their fingerprints and send them to a specific address. Izuku had been mystified by the request, but his mother had readily agreed, commenting that it was “not the strangest thing Hisashi’s ever asked for”. The silent wait that followed had been a little uneasy, but not harrowing. Izuku and his mother reread the message a couple of times before opening the box they’d just been delivered. Inside were only the two mentioned devices with their respective chargers, snuggled among waterproof packaging and stuffing. They looked very much like ordinary mobile phones, except they had no buttons or ports on any side. Some quick experimentation proved that they could be turned on simply by pressing the indicated finger on the touchscreen. The display showed a very minimalistic chat interface, with a fixed red dot on the top left corner. No amount of tapping on the screen could bring up the virtual keyboard though, which was puzzling. There was no way to access the rest of the phone’s functions, if it even had any. It was the third day of the month, so technically still within the familiar communication window. Izuku kept poking and prodding at the buttonless phone for the whole afternoon until eventually, shortly after dinner, the red dot at the top of the chat became green. A minute later, a message popped up. Hello, Izuku. Izuku almost dropped his cup of hot chocolate in excitement, which was quickly replaced by frustration because he still couldn’t type anything in any way. How was he supposed to- Speak. I can hear you. “...Oh! Nice!” Izuku exclaimed. “Hi, dad! How are you? What happened?” I’ve been better. I got decked by a hysterical ape. Izuku frowned. “That’s not funny. Mom and I were very worried.” That wasn’t really a joke. What? What even- “...How? Did you break into a zoo or something…?” Sorry, you’re right. Let me rephrase. I had a violent disagreement with a brute. “Oh…” Izuku was about to ask for further explanations but he waited. The three bouncing dots at the bottom of the screen signalled that his father was still writing. We will have to communicate like this for a while. I hope it isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you. Judging by how long it took him to type even the shortest messages, Izuku thought it was going to be much more of an inconvenience for his father. He felt sorry for him. “No, not all. Is it… is it really bad? Shouldn’t you come home so we can help you get better? It sounds like you won’t be able to work anyway…” I’ll receive better medical treatment here, and I can still get some work done while I recuperate. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll recover fully sooner or later. Izuku picked at the lint of his blanket, choosing his words carefully. “You could… come home anyway. Even if you could work. When you’re feeling a little better. So we could spend some time together.” The three bouncing dots reappeared, but Izuku kept talking. He already knew what his father’s answer was going to be, but he wanted to take advantage of the delay to get a few more words in. “Some of my friends have parents that work far from home too. They’re away a lot, but… they do come back to visit sometimes. Usually for the holidays. At least… At least once.” At least his friends had actually met their fathers once in their whole lives, Izuku completed only in his head. You know how things stand. My job doesn’t afford me this kind of free time. “...What do you even do that won’t let you ever do anything?” Izuku muttered, out of sheer petulance. That was another familiar point of contention, to which his father replied with the same, word-for-word justification he always used. Every detail concerning my activities is classified by the government. We’ve been over this. Don’t be childish. And that was usually the end of it. Any further questioning after the ‘classified’ thing invariably turned Izuku’s father into a slippery wall of smooth deflections. But, considering the current situation, Izuku felt like he could get away with a little more nagging, if he played his cards right. “I know you can’t say anything. But how about…” He physically leaned forwards, trying not to let his tension seep through his voice. “How about I try to deduce something? About your job. Just… for fun.” No new message showed up, not even the typing dots. Izuku decided that it was as much of an approval as he was going to get, so he started to voice his thoughts as they formed. “...Your job is classified by the government. So it’s important, very important, so important that other people can’t know about it.” When he was very young, Izuku had obviously interpreted it as irrefutable proof that his father must be some sort of secret agent. He had exposed his conclusion to Kacchan and his gang once. They had… not-so-respectfully disagreed. Izuku had never brought up the matter with them afterwards. “Your note said that you got hurt on the job. So someone you know from work punched you so hard that, even after five months, you still can’t talk well.” Izuku paused. That was… a scary idea. It dawned on him, for the first time since the beginning of this whole ordeal, that his father may have really dodged a bullet there. What kind of a brute could possibly want to injure someone that much…? Surely a criminal… A villain, maybe…? “Your job is dangerous, and it leaves you almost no free time. It also pays well.” That last item was admittedly a shot in the dark, Izuku didn’t really know much about money handling. But he had noticed that his mother never denied him a gift or a treat on the grounds of its cost (his vast collection of All Might memorabilia was a testament to that), like so many of his friends’ relatives were wont to do. She didn’t need a job herself, and Izuku remembered overhearing a conversation she had with Kacchan’s mom where she had said that they were ‘well provided for’. “You know a lot about a lot of stuff, especially about quirks and heroes. You know a lot of things about quirks and heroes that I couldn’t find anywhere on the internet.” Izuku paused, racking his brain for anything else that stuck out. Before he could come up with more points to make, his father finally wrote back. You sure put some thought into this. I’m impressed. The lack of reprimands was an encouragement in its own right. Now came the hard part. These were all facts that he already knew, now he had to put them together… and no matter how much he tried to come up with different possibilities, there was only one explanation that rang true in Izuku’s mind. “Dad… are you some sort of… undercover hero?” Izuku waited with baited breath for the dancing dots to turn into a complete message. Definitely not. ...Aw, shoot. Although I guess I do happen to deal with heroes quite often in my line of work. Izuku gasped. That was the first real piece of information his father had ever shared with him about his job! And wow, he worked with heroes! And whatever support he lent them had to be pretty vital if he was always so busy and tight-lipped. “So you’re like… a policeman? An informant that tracks down villains for the heroes to catch? Or an engineer bound by trade secret? Or-” Enough, Izuku. I’m supposed to be resting. I don’t think being given the third degree by my own son counts as such. Izuku deflated. So close to the truth, and yet so far… Maybe he could manage to get some other clue out of his father later. But… there was one more thing he simply had to ask. “...Have you ever met All Might?” I’m just going to ignore you after this. Well, it had been worth a try. Izuku finally relented, reasonably satisfied with the result of his investigation. “Okay, okay. Sorry. No more questions. And no All Might stuff. Not that I have much to tell you about him. He hasn’t really been around lately.” Hasn’t he, now? Uh, odd. It wasn’t like his father to miss an opportunity to dodge All Might gossip. Izuku supposed there’d be no harm in taking advantage of this atypical spark of curiosity. “Yeah. It’s been like this for a few months. Rumors say he’s abroad, working on some large scale mission. Something very secret, that’s why there are no articles on him in newspapers from other countries either.” I wasn’t aware of this. That’s very interesting. Although I couldn’t imagine anyone less suited to hushed-up operations. Izuku couldn’t help but snort. In light of the recent revelation, he wondered if his father was so unapologetically critical of All Might because he had worked with him and they hadn’t gotten along… which seemed kind of impossible. How could All Might be the unpleasant type of coworker? Or maybe his father really was just jealous because he couldn’t work with All Might often enough. A sudden thought occurred to the boy. “...Sorry, I guess you don’t want to hear about hero stuff now that you’re, uh… on forced vacation.” Actually, I’d love to. I’ve been a little out of the loop lately, I need to catch up with the news anyway. Fire away all the information you have. Izuku smiled. “Even about All Might?” Especially about All Might.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #deku #all for one

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nerdypanda3126 · 3 years

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City of Love – Ch. 6

After Juleka teases him about 'his muse,' Luka confesses that he's written music about Marinette, and although she knows what he means when he says it, she has no idea how to respond.

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Luka went out and found Marinette in the same spot he’d left her, although now she had a sketchbook splayed across her lap and her head was bent over it.

“Hey,” Luka started, settling into place across from her. Her head snapped up and a bright red blush spread across her face.

“Hi.”

“Tikki said you wanted me to look at something?”

She hesitated before she passed her sketchbook over to him. When the pages settled into his hands, he ran a hand over her work, feeling the impressions her pencils had left. She was incredibly talented. She’d recreated his gas tank from a few different angles and redrawn her idea on each one. On top was a prominent bunch of flowers, blue in the center and tipped with white. Behind the flowers, she’d drawn a delicate fishnet lace that he had no idea how she planned to recreate in paint. Here and there, she’d drawn deliberate rips, and on the sides, there were swirls that followed the curves of the tank like she’d said before.

“What do you think?” she asked hesitantly.

“I… Marinette, this is…” He ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “This is… extraordinary.”

He popped his head back up to look at her and she was biting her lip, anxiously waiting for his appraisal. He lost all train of thought when her lip slipped out from between her teeth and she smiled. He handed the sketchbook back to her, still entirely lost for words.

On the ground next to her, her timer went off. Must be time for that last coat. She picked up the spray can and started shaking it, but he interrupted her.

“Do you think I could give it a try?” he asked, although it didn’t sound like his voice or feel like his words. He almost felt like he was outside of himself, watching as she shrugged and handed him the can of paint.

“It’s your bike,” she said casually.

The can was in his hand, and she hesitated before she untied the bandana from around her neck and offered it to him as well. His fingers trembled as he accepted it, although he hoped his face was doing something a little more normal. He cleared his throat and prayed that the next words out of his mouth were something clever.

“Um, yeah, so if I screw up, it’s no big deal, right?”

Nope, that wasn’t anywhere near clever. But she hid a giggle behind her hand and blushed before she shrugged to agree with him. He brought the bandana up around his face to hide what was probably a lovestruck, dopey grin.

He tried to take a deep, calming breath, which was when he realized that calming down at that current moment was impossible. The bandana smelled like whatever perfume she was wearing. Something light and floral with a citrusy background. Every breath he took in just intoxicated him more. He was getting lightheaded and he wasn’t even painting yet.

He glanced up and she was watching him curiously. Probably wondering why he hadn’t started. He gave the can a couple more shakes, then aimed it at the gas tank and prayed for steady hands.

When he’d finished, he handed the bandana back to her first, then the can of primer. The original dark blue paint that was underneath looked like it was frosted over. Marinette set her timer again. And again it was just the two of them. And again he could think of nothing to say to this amazing woman, only this time it was exacerbated by having her scent still lingering on and around him. He cleared his throat again, but no words came out.

This was going to be a long few hours.

***

Marinette had no clue what happened between when Luka went inside and when he came back out, but suddenly he was completely tongue-tied. He could barely look at her without raking his hair over his ears and he was smiling like he didn’t know how to stop. They took turns adding the base coat, and she had a shiny black surface to work on by the time they were done, but both times she’d handed him her bandana, he’d looked at her like she was handing him some priceless artifact.

She bent her head to her work with Tikki’s lecture ringing in her ears. He didn’t seem to mind her lack of conversation. At one point he must’ve ducked back inside to grab his guitar again because she vaguely registered the music.

Tikki hadn’t been a fan of her idea to do nothing about her attraction to Luka. She’d urged Marinette to go after him, to tell him how she felt, to make some sort of move, and when Marinette had steadily refused, Tikki had actually raised her voice to tell Marinette she thought she was being stubborn and that Luka deserved to know.

Maybe Tikki was right. She should probably at least tell him that she liked him, or ask to see him again in a more official setting. Not trying at all felt so counterintuitive. But she really wanted to know what this was between them. To do the smart thing for once and wait before throwing herself into the deep end of a new relationship. So instead of thinking about his kind smile or his soft eyes or his slender fingers, she focused on steadying her hands to paint the delicate lines of the lace and the outlines of the flowers.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” he asked after a while, breaking her out of her concentration.

She took a breath and pulled her brush away carefully before blinking out of her trance and looking up at him. He’d set his guitar aside again and had a notebook lying open beside him with a pen, his headphones, and his phone strewn out on top of it to keep his place. He’d been writing, then? She hadn’t even noticed. She nodded before she stood and stretched, surprised at how much light had disappeared while she’d been working and how stiff she felt from sitting hunched over her painting.

She took a few steps away to shake her legs out and he moved to look at what she’d been working on. She’d started in on the white of the flowers, and his fingers hovered over her work, following her lines as if he could feel them in the air.

“It’s beautiful,” he said simply, but when he met her eyes again, she knew he meant it.

“Thank you,” she murmured back, then smiled when she caught sight of his notebook again. “Do you mind if I take a look?” She pointed at it and he followed her direction.

“Uh… yeah. It’s… I mean, it’s just scribbles and notes, but… yeah, sure.” He swallowed visibly and moved again to grab it before he stood with her and handed it over.

He hadn’t been kidding about the scribbling. What he hadn’t scratched out in big, black blobs, he’d written in almost illegible scrawls. She could only make out a word here and there, and one he’d circled several different times.

“Is that the title? Miraculeuse?” she asked, pointing to it.

“Uh, no, I mean, I’m not really a lyricist, I’m just, you know…” He fiddled out to the side as if he were playing his guitar and let out an embarrassed chuckle. “But... if there were a title, I guess that’d be it.”

He had a few lines of music notes written down, and she hummed what she could make out. “Is it the same one you showed me earlier?”

He didn’t answer right away, and she looked up to make sure he was still there. He shook his head when she caught his eye.

“No, it’s just…” He blinked at her, dumbstruck it seemed, before he took another one of those breaths. Were they calming to him, maybe? After a slow exhale, he looked up at her through his hair. “It’s just something I thought of, watching you paint.”

She blinked back at him. “You… wrote this about me?”

He nodded and looked away as he ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know anything about drawing, you know? To me… that’s… what you do… it’s…” Another calming breath. She felt her heart start skipping in her throat as she waited for him to find his words. “You took something that I don’t even think about most of the time, and you made it beautiful. You made it art. It’s nothing short of a miracle, if you ask me.”

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks before she could stop it. As she handed the notebook back to him, she noticed someone walking straight towards them in the background.

She was tall and slender, with black hair like Luka’s except she had purple streaks instead of blue that peeked through when the breeze caught it.

When she reached them, she threw her arm over Luka’s shoulders and hung onto him casually. Luka shoved her off, although there wasn’t any meanness in the gesture. Marinette’s eyes flicked back and forth between them.

“You must be Juleka,” she said finally, when she’d put the pieces together.

“And you must be Marinette,” Juleka echoed; her smirk was identical to Luka’s. "I recognize you from the stupid look my brother has on his face."

She elbowed Luka in the ribs, grinning. He chuckled nervously at Marinette, then shot Juleka a look, rubbing his side.

“Has he played you the song yet? Please tell me you played her the song.” Juleka looped her arm through Luka’s and leaned her chin on his shoulder, blinking up at him with a pleading pout. Marinette hid a giggle behind her hand as Luka rolled his eyes.

“He hasn’t played it yet,” Marinette answered her, “but what he has so far seems like it’ll be really good.” She pointed to the journal in Luka’s hands and Juleka’s eyes followed her direction before they lit up with menacing glee.

“Another one? Already? Come on, let me see!”

She reached for it and Luka tugged it out of her hands. There was a brief battle between them, with Luka holding Juleka back any way he could and keeping the journal away from her and Juleka reaching every which way to get at it. He couldn’t even hold it above his head because she was just as tall as he was. He was winning, though, by a slim margin.

Finally, Juleka sighed as she relented, but punched him hard on the shoulder in irritation.

“N’importe-quoi. But you’ll show it to me later, right?”

"Même pas dans tes rêves."

Juleka stuck her tongue out at him, then moved towards the door. She smiled back at Marinette as she passed by him. “Good to finally put a face to your muse,” she muttered in Luka’s ear, just barely loud enough for Marinette to catch it.

Luka reached back and swatted her with the notebook and Juleka cackled as she ducked away and slipped inside. Marinette raised her eyebrows at him as he raked his hair over his ears for what must’ve been the millionth time in the few hours they’d spent together.

“What was all that about?”

“Nothing. She just—well, she likes to tease me and she’s had a lot more ammo recently.”

“She called me your muse,” she said, feeling her blush creep up her cheeks.

“She got that from Sass. I told you, it’s been a nightmare, living with those two.”

Rather than press the issue, Marinette sat back down to her work. He hesitated before he sat with her again. As she picked up her brush and lowered her eyes to her painting, he spoke up again.

“They're not that far off, though, to be honest."

She glanced up, if only to show him she was listening, and he continued after a pause.

"I haven't been able to write anything for… I don't know, months I guess, and then you show up. And my head has been so full of music ever since I can't get it down fast enough."

Her hands were shaking. She took one of his breaths—quick inhale, deep exhale, but it didn’t help her at all. It just made her think of how right before he’d leaned over to kiss her he’d taken a breath just like that. Which only made her realize that he’d been nervous but he’d leaned in anyways.

She kept her eyes down as she pulled her brush away from her work and swirled it into the blue paint that was up next, blending it with the white she’d been working with so she could create a subtle shade between the white tips of the petals and the deep blue of the center of the flower.

She should tell him. Shouldn’t she? He’d been more than honest with her.

“That’s probably a weird thing to say to someone, isn’t it? ‘I hear music when I look at you.’” He chuckled nervously and paused until she glanced up again, and when their eyes caught he continued. “But it’s the truth. You’re the song that’s been playing in my head since the moment we met.”

She probably went some shade of crimson based on how hot her cheeks felt. The bass from the club was back in her chest, but only because her heart was beating so hard it was thudding against her ribcage.

That sounded like a declaration. Of love. Which made no sense because he’d said he’d never been in love… had he said ‘before’? She couldn’t remember when her eyes were locked on his and he was smiling at her like they were talking about the weather and not that he was inspired by her. That he was in love with her.

Abruptly, she stood and pretended a need to stretch before she shook her hands out. They were still trembling and she wouldn’t be able to get any work done until they stopped but talking with Luka was having some sort of effect on her flighty nervous system and all she wanted to do was run away from him, but at the same time she wanted to fall into him, but at the same time she wanted to scream and laugh and cry and—

Luka’s hand fell on her shoulder and gave a small squeeze, which simultaneously sent butterflies fluttering through her and also calmed her spiraling thoughts. She didn’t know how he did that.

“That was forward of me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She shook her head, wanting to tell him he hadn’t, but her tongue was frozen. He was standing so close and his hand on her shoulder was sending a wave of warmth through her. She looked at the gas tank on the ground, so close to being finished, and resolutely pushed her panic away until she had time to think about what it meant.

Luka seemed to sense the calm that washed over her, because he took his hand off her shoulder, but his eyebrows knitted together as if he were confused at the sudden change. There was a little panicked Marinette still banging her fists against the inside of Marinette’s skull somewhere, and when she was alone with Tikki that panicked Marinette would probably come back full force, but for now, she was focused on the task in front of her.

“I should get this finished,” she managed to say, and he nodded, already pulling away from her to let her sit back down.

She finished up just as the sun started setting and he said a quiet thank you before he offered her his hand to shake and a warm smile. Sass paid her, throwing pointed glances at Luka the whole time, and Tikki linked arms with Marinette as they walked away together. Tikki was blowing kisses over her shoulder to Sass, but Marinette kept her eyes on her shoes as her paint kit knocked against her knees.

It had been a long, confusing day, and she was more than willing to let it end.

Translations:

Miraculeuse: Miraculous N’importe-quoi: no matter what (whatever) Même pas dans tes rêves: Not even in your dreams (not a chance in hell)

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #mlb fic #lukanette #lukanette endgame #LBSC Exchange 2021 #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #luka and sass #marinette and tikki #human kwami #fic title: city of love

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rpbetter · 3 years

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Sorry if this isn't the place to ask but I'm in need of advice. I have a canon character I truly adore, but I haven't gotten muse or any opportunity to write them at all. My blog is collecting dust and the fandom is kinda dead at this point. Not to mention, it's hard to find compatible writing partners, especially with how picky I can be. I'm honestly considering deactivating the blog (for the nth time), but I don't want to lose the writing I have. I know I could archive, but I hate having blogs just sitting around.

In short, I really want to write the muse/keep the blog but I'm not getting any incentive to do that.

Hello, Anon, it’s totally the place to ask!

I will say, though, that since finding and keeping muse can be flavored rather personally, I can’t promise that what works for me is going to work for you. I’ll even confess that in over two decades, I’ve never personally lost muse. I don’t know if it is due to underlying, neurodiverse style, fixating, or if it is due to keeping myself continually invested in both my muse and writing regardless of what else is going on. (Probably a combination of both, though, and the things I do to keep myself highly in touch with my muse I’ll be recommending.) I’m definitely happy to try to help, however.

That really is a very frustrating spot to be in, wanting to write the muse and keep your blog active, but logging in every day to be reminded of what little reason you have to do so. Since we’re drawn to the characters we are for reasons of personal appeal and writing in itself is a pretty personal form of art, it can also feel depressing on top of the frustration.

However, that’s also the good news, in my opinion, because your incentive here is, or can be, yourself.

You were drawn to this character because you connected with them. They mean something to you, you can relate to them, maybe they have qualities (good or bad) that you wish you could experience. Whatever it is, there’s a reason why you had this draw. Writing is like that as well, there’s a reason why this is a hobby that drew you, that you get enjoyment out of. Again, though all art (it doesn’t matter if it is a hobby) has personal bits of the artist in it, writing is uniquely personal. When you write, you’re exploring thoughts and feelings, giving them life in a character that matters to you. I know, all of that sounds really convoluted and hokey, but it’s true.

And it’s good! That means you always have a reason to write and that you have the tools necessary to find and keep muse without any outside push necessary.

I’d say, firstly, work on getting muse back.

Get back in touch with your muse the next time you feel a particularly strong urge to write. Instead of spending time trying to find people in a silent fandom or forcing yourself to write something you don’t want to, just do some exercises that will help you get back into your muse.

I don’t know what media type your character comes from, but especially if it is something like movie or show that you can have on in the background of what you’re doing, do that. If it’s a comic or a book, think about your favorite scene and read it over first. If you’ve ever made some playlists for writing/your muse, you can always do that instead or as well. The point is to do something passively inspiring while you actively create. Now, that creating...

You want to do something that requires you to think about your muse so you can get in touch with them, not something that is going to make you feel overwhelmed and shut down. So, maybe don’t pick writing prompts for this - you can work up to that. Try out headcanon and character development memes and other question lists instead for right now. Things you can scroll down a list of, find questions that jump out as interesting (or even simply answerable to you at this point, you’re jump-starting a dead battery, it’s alright) and answer them. You can also do something as simple as write down what you like best about the character or their story, or put down the basics of filling in missing information that has always bugged you.

The beauty of this is that it is all on your own terms, your only objective here is to answer what you want, as much as you want. You can stop any time, but you can also answer a single question for three hours, making it eight pages long if the inspiration strikes you. It’s only about recharging your inspiration and establishing a connection with your character again. (This is also going to help you with getting back into writing, or approaching it for the first time, with a more internalized focus of interest.)

When you feel like you’ve done that, you can branch out on these exercises more. Answer the memes more in-depth, answer more of them/the ones you don’t have immediate answers for. You can also try writing out scenes from the character’s canon from their perspective, if it wasn’t already so, adding in their thoughts and feelings, or changing the scene in some ways that would be interesting to write out. This is the point where it’s a good idea to try a writing prompt or two, as well! Take the prompt as a sort of starter sentence from a mutual, you’ve got the situation, fill in with your muse.

Write when you feel like writing. The RPC is great at saying this when it comes to muns not wanting to write, but kind of ignores the other side of the equation. The side where you want to write, have the inspiration and muse to do so, but it might not be the best time. As in, you’re not home/wherever you usually write, with whatever device you tend to write on accessible. No, you’re not going to be able to get as much done, but you can write without the usual situation and device regardless. You can write a scene or ideas down using your phone or tablet, or go old school and use a notebook. If you’re at work and your job isn’t applicable to being able to get down a single sentence, that still doesn’t mean you have to wait 8+ hours to get home; while you’re taking your break, write a little bit. It is a break, and writing is your hobby, it isn’t work. It’s good to do things you enjoy on breaks, and far more fulfilling to have also accomplished something you happen to enjoy.

Not writing when you have the drive to do, putting it off and holding it in until “the perfect moment,” is a great way to lose your inspiration and never actually have that moment. If you feel like doing it, that means it is the perfect moment. Life is restricting, don’t impose even more restrictions on yourself by having to be at home, in a specific spot, with a specific device, at a specific time, on a specific day. Was that annoying repetition? You’re right, it was. And that’s how your creative mind processes all the crap piled onto it that doesn’t allow for creativity.

Now, the other problem, the fandom situation.

There isn’t anything you can do about that, to be absolutely honest. I’m not going to blow smoke and tell you to be positive, wait it out, maybe the fandom will spring to life again. You know, maybe it will...but you could be waiting literal decades for that to happen. Not cool. Please, take my word for that, it’s personal experience that it blows even more than you imagine it will.

What you can do is take the matter into your own hands in other ways; putting yourself out there with more availability in multiple ways.

Are you a single-fandom blog, or are you crossover friendly? If you’re not crossover friendly, try to think of a single, relatively popular fandom that you enjoy. Don’t look at it like a hassle, but rather, just another creative exercise. A serious pitfall of creating alternate universe versions of muses is to take the simplest route, merely picking something you want from that other universe and applying it to your muse with no relevant changes that would naturally occur from it. It isn’t just reductive as hell, it’s not remotely creative, it’s like sticking a sticker on your muse’s forehead and saying that’s a whole different muse. It’s neither attractive to potential partners nor going to sustain your own interest for long. You want this to be a passionate investment on your own end, for yourself.

What not to do:

Let’s say the fandom you picked to do crossovers with is based around magic, the main characters are witches, and they are divided into factions based on how their magical talents display and develop. Not only do you decide to make your muse a witch, you pick the most badass faction. It’s the one full of assassins and action and (metaphorically or literally) sex appeal. Well, that’s also going to be the most popular faction in the fandom. That means there will not only be plenty of big name canons there but also that there’s going to be a plethora of OCs designed just for this universe...and other crossovers from other currently active fandoms.

While that might sound like it’s great for maximizing interaction chances, it’s really not when you’re just starting somewhere new with a character from another fandom that might not be known or liked. It can also take a minute in another fandom’s RPC to identify where the good partners are. Every now and then, it is the most popular and over-populous era/faction/etc., but most of the time, it isn’t. People who write with considerable dedication and talent fairly rarely are in the popular kids club even in their fandom choices. By inserting yourself into that area, you might be bypassing (and being bypassed) by better partners on the assumption that their characters are simply going to bore you to death since they’re not within the scope of your focal point.

It’s not a situation of not being allowed to be picky, you not only have that right regardless of your situation, you also should be. This is not a “beggars can’t be choosers” situation, you’re not beholden to anyone on the basis of being new and bored. However, some of my best, and longest lasting, writing partners over all 23 years I’ve been RPing didn’t/don’t fit with all the exact surface details that automatically draw my interest. It is as true within my own fandom as it is in dealing with crossovers. Opposites (with enough similarities) really do attract and work out well together!

Don’t judge and write people off for anything that isn’t an issue of compatibility with your muse, your writing, or yourself. Decline someone because they do one line only and you are novella, they write topics that are upsetting to you, you can see no way your muse and theirs can interact without instant murder, or because you cannot stand writing with someone who is pulling 90% aesthetics and purple prose. Not because their muse is a witch who uses life-based magic, loves nature, is a healer, and into their health...while your muse in this AU is all about the death, only appreciates an urban environment and is grossed out by animals, kills as an occupation, lives on cheeseburgers and caffeine. You see what I’m saying? Don’t limit yourself unnecessarily!

What to do:

Did you consider if, in that hypothetical idea of a fandom, your muse based on their purely canon self would even fit into that faction? Or is it just something you wanted to see? If you didn’t consider this, or it was the latter, fix that. That’s bad.

If you’re not absolutely dead set on that and only that, think about what really does fit the muse better. Maybe, they would be better as a healer, someone who messes with the very fabric of reality, or someone who manipulates natural elements at will. Then again, they might not even be a witch. They could be more mundane in terms of power, but more accurate and interesting as a normal, human (or whatever). They could even be greatly opposed to the use of magic and witches. Use your muse’s original canon as a base to decide these things.

If you are absolutely dead set on it, though, you have a lot of work to do making the character into what amounts to a markedly different one while still retaining some recognizable aspects of themselves. Consider what events, in this new universe of fandom, might have happened to alter the character thus. Keep in mind that even small changes can have great consequences in a character’s development, and you might need to think about the myriad ways in which that can display, how it changes still more things for this character.

While that job becomes so much more intense when you haven’t planned out a path that matches your muse’s canon characterization at all, it is still an important part of constructing an AU, of any kind, in general. Ask yourself what experiences led to the character you know as you already know them (including your own headcanons, yes). Then, find similar possible experiences within your new fandom verse that can have the same effect. Again, though, it’s important to understand that you are never going to have an identical set of experiences, so you need to explore relevant changes still.

When you do this, you’re allowing your muse to more seamlessly fit into this other universe in a fleshed out, interesting way. Interesting both new partners and yourself.

Okay, next obnoxious question from me! Do you have multiple verses, or are you single-verse?

Whether you are already exploring new fandoms or not, by creating a variety of verses for others to interact with, you’re increasing your chances for interest and activity. When you have a verse from a different fandom you can then, additionally, advertise your presence in both that fandom’s tags when you do a promo or applicable open starter and on active RPer lists for that fandom.

Every popular fandom has such lists. You can get on them by messaging/sending an ask to the blog or by reblogging their post to be added, following the directions. I haven’t seen one yet that doesn’t allow for crossovers. You simply have to tag it as stated in the post, such as “your canon’s name here - original fandom name - crossover.” By tagging your open starter or promo as “-insert fandom here- rp” and “-fandom here- open starter” you allow people in that fandom to find you to interact. Either way is excellent for getting started in totally new places with a character others might be unfamiliar with.

Please remember that if you tag a promo as “promo,” it’ll not show up in searches off of your blog. You know, where it actually needs to be searched. Thanks, tumblr, for being janky! Being more specific as to the fandom and character will help others actually find you. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by tagging it as “promo.”

Make your verses accessible on your blog itself, in the nature of those verses, and how you set up your page or post that lists them.

Don’t put any page behind an impossible or complicated aesthetic. You really shouldn’t anyway, but when you’re needing interactions, it’s actively hurting your chances. Many people don’t want to have to play a game with your theme, it’s a turn off. Try a pinned post that lists all of your links to important pages like rules, verses, and bio instead. It means that, even from the dash, that information can quickly be found while other muns are first interested, and also that anyone who might be using the app can access it more expediently. (I’m genuinely not a fan or big supporter of doing google docs for rules, verses, bios, etc., as it forces people off site, so I can’t personally say, in good conscious and honesty, that I’d recommend it, but you do you!) You want to keep things quickly accessible is the idea here; when people are interested, you want to catch them right then and there before they have a chance to forget and lose your blog.

As to the nature of the verses themselves, give people real options. Don’t have 20 verses that all read same way. Same themes, plot possibilities, and backstories, or incredibly similar names. Have a diverse list of verses that can act as foundations for a variety of different muns. As many fandoms as you can reasonably have a good portrayal of, and different types of fandoms; not all the same genre (all fantasy, all horror, all scifi). Verses where your muse has substantially different goals, occupations, and other life situations that will involve another muse; don’t make your muse A Warrior™ in every verse, you can keep plenty of those aspects without being that literal. People love “modern” verses set in our own universe and, usually, in our own era. That doesn’t mean you have to go stereotypical or otherwise bore yourself by doing the standard “high school/college verse,” for instance. You don’t even have to designate that sort of thing, let alone make it the focus; simply create the verse by considering what your character really would be like if they existed within your reality.

As a final note on verses as pertains to this point, when you’re doing crossover verses, it’s alright to do some verses where your muse from their own canon existence somehow ends up teleported or whatever to another fandom’s reality, or even our own. Just don’t make every verse like this, it puts the onus of a great deal of creativity and effort onto the other mun by default; your muse has cluelessly dropped into the universe, and while it is high drama time for you, the other mun has to babysit, educate, deal with fallout, etc.

On making the list of your verses accessible, you want to focus on ease of browsing and not being overwhelming. People tend to look through a verse page and not read every verse listed, rather, they look at the titles and breakdowns to see if it is of interest, then read it. Don’t try to make everyone read them all, it isn’t going to happen, and shouldn’t change your effort any as the right people are going to find the verses that interest them...if you make it clear and easy enough.

Have a basic format you stick to, firstly. I do it this way: small verse banner, title of verse (linked to its overall tag so that muns can look through the tag at headcanons, aesthetics, pictures of the FC, and threads), muse age/age range, small blurb, possible triggers found uniquely or just heavily within this verse. In that order, one following the other in a simple, but pleasing way. Below that, is a more in depth breakdown of the “verse canon.” Sometimes, that is giving a brief rehashing of canon itself and anywhere my muse differs, be it in this verse only or overall, ending with where my muse is in this verse. Not literally where. I mean their present occupation, emotional and general state in life. At the very end, I provide any other relevant links and/or an expansion on the triggers mentioned at the top of the verse description if they’re that serious/recurrent so that muns can decide this isn’t the verse for them. I happen to have a potentially triggering muse, triggering verses, and writing triggering topics, though. That’s not something everyone needs to do.

Secondly, group your verses in a sensible way. I do my short list of default verses first. (And, I do mean short, you don’t want this be any more than four or five, it is overwhelming right out of the gate.) For me, that is two default verses of canon at different points on the timeline, one default AU that is a bit of a reversal of canon, and one default “modern” verse. Then, I list the verses that are in line with the altered canon one, just different possibilities, changes, points in history. After that, the different “modern” verse options. Then, verses for other fandoms, the crossover verses. And so on. This way, a potential partner can find the type of verse that might appeal to them and have an easier time picking from those possibilities and getting ideas.

Lastly, don’t be so succinct that you give too little information and underwhelm, but also don’t be so excessive that it takes all of the mystery of interaction away and overwhelms someone. It can be a difficult balance to strike, and some verses require more information than others, just experiment a bit. Additionally, it’s fine to link to pertinent information for the other mun to view aside from this, but don’t just link people to a fandom wiki as your “description/bio.” That isn’t giving information on how you write this muse, approach this fandom, or what another mun can otherwise expect. Keeping your descriptions interesting is important, you’re not giving a boring lecture, you’re trying to inform someone while making them hyped for their choices. It’s more interesting, and informative, to read if you do them with an ear to the “tone” of your muse in that verse. Is it a sad one? Sound that way. These can, indeed, function as snippets of your writing, so be sure you are writing them with the same care you should be giving your replies; spellcheck, good word flow and use, mind the grammar, and read over what you’ve written for common, easy mistakes.

Again, by giving a genuine variety of verses to choose from, you’re allowing for a greater reach in potential partners. Everyone from those still in your original fandom to those in new ones, all the way to fandomless muses will be able to interact with you this way.

Finally, in regards to what you can change or do when you’re in a dead fandom and seeking interactions; make sure you are increasing your reach by using proper tags, being honest about what and how you write, and don’t wait for others to stumble across you.

When you use tags properly, you’re increasing your chances of being seen at all. Every time you post something at all applicable on your blog, tag it with relevant things. Tag as described above with whatever fandom it is and “RP,” your character’s name, “open RP,” character name and RP, indie RP, open starter, and so on. Be sure you are optimizing your tags by placing the most relevant to finding you in the first four, those are what show up in site-wide searches only. Anything after that isn’t going to appear in a search across all tumblr.

By tagging your character’s name, as a canon, you should know that you are likely to get personal blog interaction. I’m pretty against being nasty to personal blogs for no reason, as I don’t appreciate personal and fandom blogs being shitty to me for the sole reason that I am an RPer. Please, use clear, short, attention getting directions for them. If you want no interactions with them, put right in the description of your blog “RP blog, does not interact with personal blogs.” When you say things like, “personals dni,” or “personals blocked,” you’re not doing anyone any favors. Personal blogs often don’t even know what the hell a personal blog even is! They do not denote themselves this way, to a personal blog, they’re just a blog. By designating first that you are an RP blog, you’re making it clearer that they’re the personal; they’re obviously not an RP blog, so that must make them a personal. Follow this up in a pinned post, right on top. Give a note to personal blogs that describes them as “any blog that isn’t an RP blog” first, then either tell them in brief what they can and can’t do or that you don’t interact and will block.

I don’t recommend taking your blog off of being findable, however. That’s alright once you have the RP activity you are looking for, but until then, it’s working against you. Other RP blogs cannot easily find you either, they will only find you if you’re on a list or appear in their recommended blogs, if you interact with a mutual, or are recommended by a mutual. You’re not just lessening your chances of personal blogs finding you, so if you have that turned off, turn it back on.

Don’t entirely rely on others finding you regardless, though. You can’t be 100% passive when you have no interactions, and by relying solely on serendipity you’re far less likely to get them. I know that everyone here is terminally shy, but seriously, you have to do more than put your silent will into the universe that someone perfect find you. You have to make this happen. Once you get a few people, you can afford to be more passive. Not only do you have some people to write with, you will be more visible to their mutuals, and more established as a presence. I’m not saying this is easy, or that it will become easy, not awkward or stressful, if you have a legitimate issue behind the shyness. Just that it is the only way to really proceed, and I believe you can do it!

So, go looking for interesting blogs. Be crossover and OC friendly (again, this doesn’t mean “accept everyone,” there are valid reasons for not accepting people you won’t work out with that have nothing to do with their fandom or being an OC), and search those fandom’s RPCs, following any blogs you think you might work out with upon reading their rules and other pages. Search for fandomless OCs and do the same thing. Fandomless OCs aren’t just floating around in the ether, they just weren’t created expressly for a particular fandom and within its confines. What is excellent about that is their ability to have a wide variety of verses and many possibilities to fit into any fandom or verse. So, don’t count them out solely on the basis of being an OC and fandomless. It doesn’t mean what people seem to think it does!

Do not stop at having followed 50 blogs. I mean, other than that you probably should stop following people for a bit. That you should do, as you need to be building writing relationships here, not following so many people that you cannot get to them. Don’t just stop at the follow, though. Since you’ve read their rules and information like a good RP partner, you should have some idea of what their interests are and where they align with yours, as well as how they prefer to be approached, if they accept memes right away to start, need plotting, have a rules password. When they’ve followed you back, proceed with interaction!

Ask if they’d like to plot when they have time, you’re really looking forward to writing with them. But...have some idea of a plot, please. It is a serious turn off to have someone message you wanting to plot, only to reply and get “lol I don’t have any ideas, anything works for me/whatever you want to do.” That isn’t plotting, it’s one party coming up with ideas and constructing a plot while they’re being told “I’m fine with anything.” That may be true, but it’s disheartening and a red flag for many people. If you genuinely can’t come up with anything, pick verses that match up well and suggest doing something within them.

“When you have the time, would you be interested in discussing writing? I was looking at your verses, and I think your verse -name- and mine, -verse name-, would mesh well.” Is a good way to start. Once you have a discussion flowing about the verses meshing and the muses, it’s typically easy to organically develop some plot ideas to go off of.

If both you and the other mun are alright with plot-free interaction and memes, you can send a meme any time. If you can’t find any memes on their blog, look for a wishlist or navigation page that shows you the tags for memes/wishlist. Still can’t find it? Ask them if they’ve got a wishlist or meme tag you can look through.

Additionally, if open starters are a thing you both do and are alright with, find some of theirs and respond. Post your own, tag it appropriately to be found in general and on your blog, and reblog it once or twice. Don’t excessively reblog it, and don’t get upset on the dash if no one interacts with it or any memes you reblog. Both are demanding to outright guilting, and not a good way to get partners. Just provide them with the ability to easily interact by making the posts available in the first place and by making them findable on your blog search and navigation.

Provide something for potential partners to see. Since you said you already do have writing, that’s great! That’s content on your blog that your partners can view. However, since you’re also having the issues you’ve stated, it’s likely that you haven’t many new posts. Show that you are active, interested in being here, and how you write your muse (and in general) by posting some newer content. For original content, do a headcanon or some meta, or post about new verses you are adding, the changes on your blog, a promo. For reblogs, things pertaining to your muse like canon imagery, fanart, quotes from canon or that generally express your muse, and aesthetics relevant to your muse are all excellent things to queue.

Use that queue. Not only do very few people appreciate having dash spam of similar content for the comparatively short time you might be around, but also, running these things on a queue means you spread that out for maximum view. While there are hours of heavier activity, you’ll have mutuals who are on at unusual hours due to their life and preferences or their timezone. This way, you’re not appearing inactive, if not outright invisible, to those mutuals. It’s not a bad idea to use a queue tag so that people know if they interact with a post that’s been queued, you might be here to quickly respond.

Ultimately, to fix your fandom and lacking partners problem, you just need to up your availability and reach beyond that fandom alone. Be proactive in following and approaching, decline blogs based on not working out only, utilize tags and fandom RPer lists, have everything on your blog easy to follow and not overwhelming, and have your verses meet as wide of a range of people as possible while also not being overwhelming.

Try updating your promo, as well, by the way. They’re not dead, they just really tanked when people kept making them based solely on aesthetic principle instead of being at all informative about the muse. They do seem to be coming back, so it’s a thing to consider.

Yes, make it visually appealing, it will draw people to reading it. No, do not just use a song lyric or quote with words highlighted linking your rules, verses, bio. Tell people basic info like the age of your muse and yourself, if you are multiverse and multiship, your muse’s canon verse and a couple of big interest verses of other major fandoms or themes that tend to be of interest to people, and what kind of RP you write - one line/para/multipara/novella. Absolutely give links to rules, verses, bio, and either memes, wishlist, or open starters, but give them just like that; make it very clear what this link is to. Put a very short statement of interest on there denoting that you’re expanding to new fandoms and looking for writing partners.

Do not sound desperate, demanding, or devaluing of yourself. Don’t say shit like “because my fandom is dead,” “trying this before I give up and delete my blog,” or “I suck at interaction/writing/ooc interaction/being a person but welp giving it a try, so follow and hit that heart.” (Conversely, calling yourself derogatory things and implying that your partners are too, such as the “we’re all just losers here” shit.) All of the above are not attractive, and they’re not even surprising enough to stand out anymore. It’s another reason to scroll right by that promo because nothing at all was different or of interest.

And as a wrap-up/rehash of the first topic, getting muse back: try starting over at the beginning by approaching the media involving your muse that has really stuck with you emotionally over the years, and exploring and developing your muse again.

Don’t tell yourself you can only write, for example, at home, on the laptop, after 7pm, and with a pop toy staring at you. The best thing about writing, as opposed to so many other hobbies, is that you can do it anywhere! So, do that. Do it any time you both feel the inspiration to do so and aren’t going to get fired or expelled for it. This isn’t work, it’s something enjoyable that does take effort (like literally all creative activities and skills do), but approaching it as though you need to follow novel writing advice from someone who has never published anything of note and isn’t you on the internet, with strict rules for success makes it feel that way. So does being frustrated with a dead fandom, no interaction. It’s disheartening, feels as annoying and fruitless as work often does. You probably need to break out of that mindset, and you can only do it by beginning to allow yourself to be creative on your own terms, entirely for yourself.

Do write simple things at first that you are inspired to do (you can’t get a scene out of your head, or a bit of dialogue), and/or headcanon/character development memes and question lists. Build from there as you get back in touch with your muse, writing things primarily or entirely for yourself still. Expanding on headcanons, doing some meta, or maybe writing out a missing piece of canon or what you’d be interested in seeing happen in canon if some event was altered.

Doing this sort of thing, you are getting in touch with your muse again and back into the real spirit of writing creatively, simultaneously.

Whatever you find most inspiring, do it. If it’s watching the movie or show again, do that, have it on while you write or simply think on the character’s actions, thoughts, and emotions during those scenes. If it’s reading the material again, do that, and read snippets of personal importance before you write. Maybe it’s some past playlists you can have on while writing, or even while you’re cleaning, walking the dog, driving or riding somewhere. It could even be your own previous writing! Go ahead and re-read that, it sounds like you still appreciate it, and that’s truly promising. If you find that you’re horrified by some of the things you’ve written in the more distant past, hey...that’s not just valid as hell, it’s natural. You know what else it is? An inspiration. You can clearly see that you could do better, that means you now know how to do better and are ready to do so. Validate yourself, prove it to yourself by rewriting or fixing something.

Don’t delete the blog or archive it. It is unpleasant to have a dead blog around, but don’t keep it dead. Use the same blog and simply transition it into wider things that will net you more partners and the interactions you deserve.

Look, even if you weren’t the most popular blog in your fandom before it went quiet, you really appreciated the blog, muse, and writing you were doing. You’ve defined that it wasn’t something you did to cause this situation, you just had the shit luck we all run into eventually of being in a fandom that ran out of material or interest. People are really fickle, so by taking a wider approach and fixing on the writing and muse instead of fandom now, you’re stopping this from repeating. Seriously, on a long enough timeline, every fandom dies or goes into hibernation. If you make a whole new blog with a different muse, it is going to happen again eventually.

So, don’t feel like you’re ridiculously clinging to the past and need to move on, you’re just sticking to something and can continue to stick to it through the next five fandom deaths. Just because it is the most popular thing to do to drop muses, constantly add new ones, and have this attitude that you can “blog refresh” your way out of recurrent, and inherent, problem doesn’t mean it is actually the right thing to do. It’s not even the most sensible, and certainly not the best thing to do with anything you’ve spent time and effort on.

That’s your incentive; yourself, the time and care you’ve put in, and your continued interest in writing and the muse. You’ll find good people, and bluntly, everyone else can fuck right off when you’re incentivized by yourself. It becomes a self-fulfilling activity at that point, I swear, and it feels really nice.

Just get back in touch with your muse and writing itself so that you can begin to expand and start interacting again!

#rp advice #rp problems #rp help #muse loss #dead fandoms #rp better #Anon E. Mous #answered

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

A story by heroes and villains

Book 2: secrets revealed Virgil Anker: trust and caution

Masterlist book 1

It's not easy to know who to trust and who to be wary off. But Virgil better learn soon.

When Virgil got back to the new house, he took a shower and sat himself on the couch in his pj’s. He was listening to his ‘winding down’ playlist. He was grinning to himself. Someone else was wearing his design. Sure he’d made Janus a shirt way back in freshmen year, but he barely wore it outside the house. This would be seen by tons of people. And it looked so good! He couldn’t wait till Monday. He could imagine Roman’s reaction. Would there be pictures in the papers? On the news? He just might buy a paper so he could keep a clipping to look back on later. Thinking about gushing over the costume with Roman at school made him think about seeing Janus again. J had skipped school after what happened in the hallway, leading to him having detention all of last week. He hadn’t even so much as looked at Virgil since. Not in a, “I am mad and ignoring you way,”. He looked ashamed. Scared. That was what made it so hard for Virgil to stick to his plan. Janus looked so hurt and lost and ashamed. And during lunch, he was nowhere to be found. Virgil needed to talk to Picani about this tomorrow. It would be a busy session. He contemplated where things had gone wrong for the millionth time for a while until he heard the door and looked up to see his fathers enter the room. “You’re back!” he greeted as he sat up. “So I gotta know, who’s your fourth guy?” he wondered casually. His dad just looked at him confused. “What do you mean?” “For your poker nights,” he clarified with a chuckle. Imagining Patton or uncle Thomas playing poker was kind of funny. It seemed so out of character for them. Still he couldn’t imagine what else would take all three of them getting together like this. Thomas had taught musical theatre classes, back when he was still a professor, and now he was the dean. Then again, Virgil wasn’t certain his uncle was always present. Tonight might just have been one time he happened to be there. But Patton definitely had been part of this project as much as Logan was. The past six months at the very least, but most likely from the start. “No cardgames I’m afraid kiddo. We’ll tell you about the project once it’s finished. It’s all confidential for now I’m afraid,” Patton told him gently. Virgil looked long and hard at Patton. He wasn’t lying. And confidential stuff made a lot of sense. He shrugged, letting it go. Even if his first guess was right after all and his dad was doing some kind of superhero stuff as BrainStorm, if Patton was there to help him Virgil felt assured that they’d be safe. Though he wouldn’t know how Patton, or Thomas, got wrapped up with anything involving a former super villain. “Okay, keep your secrets,” he sighed as he stretched. “Night Pat, night Lo,” he bid before heading upstairs. “Goodnight Virgil, I love you.” Virgil looked back at his dad when he heard that. “Love you to dad,” he replied with a smile. “Love you three kiddo!” Patton added, making Virgil laugh. “Love ya Pat.” And with that he went upstairs to his room. His new room was bigger than the one in his old house. But he didn’t care much about that. His old room had memories. He missed it honestly. He started to worry that he’d been too quick to say that he wanted to move out. No matter how nice the new house was, and how conveniently it was positioned, it would never quite be like the one he’d known most of his life. He let himself drop on his bed. It was pointless to think about that now. At this point, another family had probably moved into their old home. They’d brought their own furniture. Probably painted over the walls. Erasing the little doodles he’d made when he was little and bored. Before his mind could go any farther down that path, he heard a buzzing. Roman sent him a text. “Greetings! I just got back. Sorry for not checking in earlier. Could not be helped. Did you get home alright?” Virgil chuckled and texted back. “LOL. You worry too much. Hope you had a fun night.” Virgil certainly did. Just thinking about it made him impatient. Oh why not? Before he could second guess himself, he pressed call. “Virgil?” Roman sounded surprised, but Virgil was already way to giddy about his news. “I had to tell you now. I saw him!” he whispered. “Who? And why are we whispering?” Roman asked, mimicking his volume. “I’m supposed to be asleep,” he admitted, earning himself a chuckle. “Ok… Who did you see?” Roman asked. “Dream Prince!” expecting the logical next question he edited his story a little. “I went for a walk and I guess he was doing patrol in my neighborhood, I caught a glimpse of him,” well, that was an understatement. But he couldn’t tell Roman everything. Not yet. He’d lectured Prince about being cautious just today. He trusted Roman. But anyone could overhear them at any time. “He was wearing my costume! You were right! I can’t wait to get a good look at it in action!” Again. “You think someone got a picture? I didn’t have a chance. God I should’ve taken a picture so I could show you!” Though he wasn’t sure if he could’ve managed to get a believable citizens picture of him. He doubted Prince could be photographed if he didn’t want to be. “I’m sure I’ll see your work plastered around the front pages Monday. Pretty sure you missed out on the Saturday edition. But the news stations might talk about it.” Virgil’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “You sure you don’t want your name attached to it?” Virgil considered that for a moment. It would be kind of cool, he supposed. But he was trying not to draw any attention to his civilian self so long as he did the vigilante gig. Asides from that, he didn’t want anyone to be able to claim any of his future successes were due to his connection to a superhero, or have expectations based on this one work. “Yeah… I just… I know I should want the credit. But, just in case he becomes like this big time hero,” which seemed very likely to Virgil. His powers were pretty amazing and he had the personality to make it big. “I don’t want my possible career to be defined before it starts, you know what I mean?” He hoped he did, because he was starting to get confused by his own phrasing. “Maybe I’ll come forth with the original sketch when I’m like, 30, to prove it was me if it still matters by then,” he concluded. “Sounds like a smart plan. I’m going to let you go. I do need my beauty sleep after all.” Oh, he made it too easy. “You said it, not me,” he chuckled. “Night Princey.” “Buenas noches. Mi querido amigo,” Roman replied dramatically. Virgil rolled his eyes. Though he smiled as he realized Roman just called him ‘dear friend’. Trying to hide the way that warmed his chest he let out a groan. “Bon nuit,” he huffed in retaliation before hanging up. Janus had taught him a bit of French over the years. And just like that his thoughts returned to his old friend. Janus had been well behaved the past week. He hadn’t gotten in a single fight. Maybe he should try and show that he noticed. Just saying ‘hi’ wouldn’t be that bad right? Show that he meant it when he said he wanted to get back to being friends, real friends, at some point. With thoughts of a happy ending for everyone, Virgil fell asleep. The next morning he woke up early. He made sure to be quiet as he got ready for the day. Once downstairs he turned on the tv. And sure enough, the local station was talking about Dream Prince. A professional picture of him leaping across the street from one rooftop to another serving as background. The anchors were talking about his heroic deeds of last night, ranging from walking a girl home to taking down those criminals ‘single handedly’. “No one can deny it. This young hero finds no feat too great or too small, and he does it with style. Looks like he’s settled on a look.” They thought his costume had style! Virgil was vibrating with excitement. He couldn’t sit still. He had to do something with all this energy. He started on breakfast. Bacon, eggs… It had been a while since he’d felt up to making a big breakfast and been the first to wake up. Patton was as much of an early riser as he and Logan. Which meant he hadn’t had Virgil’s secret omelet recipe yet. He was bouncing on his feet as the two anchors were analyzing the costume in as much detail as they could. They found the heels a bold choice and the mask an elegant way to incorporate a crown. When Virgil heard his dads move about upstairs he turned the news off and set the table. Patton really liked the eggs. That or he really wanted Virgil to think so. Three servings made him think that it wasn’t pretend though. After breakfast, uncle Thomas picked him up for their trip to the zoo. Virgil had been looking forward to it. It felt forever ago since he last spent some one on one time with his honorary uncle. “That’s a nice one. You really got the eyes down well,” he complemented as Virgil finished a sketch of a koala. “Thanks,” Virgil said, pretty happy with the result as well. “You are really talented. Guess it runs in the family. I remember your dad scribbling away in his poetry notebook all the time.” Virgil looked at his uncle with wide eyes. “You knew my father?” he asked perplexed. Thomas frowned down at him for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, no. I never personally met your birthfather. I meant Logan,” he clarified. Virgil was a little disappointed. For a second he’d hoped to learn a little more about his birthparents. But if Thomas had been talking about Logan… “My dad wrote poetry?” Thomas chuckled. “Yeah. He was pretty good. Though he’d disagree. He felt more comfortable using his sharp tongue on the debate team. He won us some prizes,” he recalled. Virgil took this in. He had wondered what his dad was like at his age before. Now was a good time to ask more. “So poetry and debate team… Guess that is why you two became friends, huh?” he asked. Thomas shook his head a little awkwardly. “Not exactly. With my social anxiety I probably wouldn’t have approached him if my mom hadn’t told me about his mom losing custody…” “What!?” Virgil gasped. He never knew that. Thomas cringed realizing he had maybe said to much. He looked down at Virgil. “Your grandparents weren’t parents of the year. Not abusive, but… neglectful I suppose. Logan never talked about it, so I don’t know the details. Just what little ” “He was in the system?” Virgil asked with a shiver. He’d heard about the system. He was glad he never had to experience it. “No, like for you there was someone ready to take him in right away,” Thomas told him. Virgil wanted to ask who had adopted his dad. But he had an idea… And he kind of didn’t want to hear he was wrong. He wanted it to be his parents. It would explain why Logan had such a hard time talking about them, but had so much love and respect for them when he did. “What was it like rooming with him? Was he secretly a slob in college?” he asked hopefully. Thomas relaxed and started talking about a few college stories, though he quickly veered into high school and early parenthood stories. At the end of the day Virgil had a good handful of animal sketches, an idea for his art project for the semester and Thomas dropped him off at Picani’s office. “Hello Virgil. How are you today? I heard you had a good scare earlier this week.” Virgil let out a deep sigh, sat down and started his story. Leaving Picani’s office a little bit later than planned, he felt a lot better. Or, well ‘better’ never had been the right word. He’d realized that sometime during the camp. After talking about Picani about what bothered him, he was still bothered by it. But he understood things more clearly. He felt less confused and had an idea of what to do about it. Picani never told him everything would be okay. He helped him understand what was wrong and how to either steer it in a better direction, or learn to live with it. He now felt less uncertain about wanting to give Janus a sign that there was still hope for them, even after what happened last week. He felt less guilty over indulging the people asking him out even though Roman was still very much on his mind. He even felt better about getting more information than he should’ve from uncle Thomas. It had been a relief talking about his theory that his dad had been in his parent’s custody for at least four years and that that was, maybe, the reason why he took him in when they passed. And the fact that he had at least one set of grandparents that might be still alive. He wasn’t going to ask about them though. If they held bad memories for his dad, he didn’t think he wanted to know them. It was very low on his list of priorities. The fact that his dad never mentioned them told him enough. The whole scare with the ceiling lamp was discussed and Picani left it alone when Virgil said that he didn’t want to waste too much time on it. “I’m home!” he announced as he came through the door. He heard Patton call a greeting from the kitchen and saw his dad come from the living room to meet him in the doorway. “Dad!” he called out eagerly as he gave his father a hug. “Virgil? Not that I do not appreciate you seem excited to see me. But is there a particular reason?” There were a few honestly. Knowing a bit more about how he ended up being raised by the smartest, most patient man he’d ever met had him excited. On top of that knowing what his dad was like at his age made him feel closer to him. He decided to focus on the latter. He’d turn sixteen soon. If Logan hadn’t initiated the conversation by then, he would. He could be patient for another month. “Uncle Thomas told me about your teen years. I didn’t know you were on the debate team!” he told him. He could imagine his dad thriving in that environment though. Maybe they should check out the debate team this year in between Roman’s play and Virgil’s art exhibit. Logan gave Virgil a small smile, a bit of pride in his eyes. It was rare for Virgil to see his dad proud of himself. He liked it. “Well, yes. It was a bit of a hobby of mine, as well as an attempt to get better at socializing,” Logan said modestly. Virgil picked up on the operative word in that sentence. ‘Attempt’. “You were a socially awkward nerd,” he concluded with a chuckle. He was so used to being nothing like his dad. Finding flaws and similarities to himself in the man he’d idolized as long as he could remember, it was strangely exhilarating. Logan, however seemed to misunderstand what had Virgil so thrilled. “Hey, that’s a complement! I’m a socially awkward artsy kid. Sounds like I’m your son after all!” he clarified. That reminded him though. “Speaking off. Uncle Thomas told me you wrote poetry back in the day.” “Really!?” Patton exclaimed from the kitchen. Logan was blushing. Scrambling for a way out of the conversation it seemed. “I… Experimenting with different forms of self-expression is a natural part of discovering one’s identity as a teenager. It was a phase. I would like to forget about it.” Virgil was about to argue against it, but Patton beat him to it. “Aw, but poetry is so romantic,” he pouted. And Virgil could see the way that affected his dad. Well, their date nights were about to get ten times more sappy. Hopefully going for the heart, and his ego, would work out just as well for Virgil. “That’s too bad. I thought I could make a project around your old work for art class,” he sighed disappointedly. And just like that his dad’s firm posture melted away. “I’ll see if I can find some of my old notebooks. Just ask my consent before you pick one.” Virgil couldn’t resist hugging him again. “Thanks dad. You won’t regret it. I promise.” He felt his father put his arms around him gently. A wordless “you’re welcome”. Virgil was feeling very chatty during dinner and so told his parents all about his day. They had to go to the university again tonight. Since Virgil was planning on meeting up with Prince and not sure if he’d be out all night or just long enough to talk to the guy, he bid them both a good night now. Just in case he’d be too tired to wait for them to get home once he got back. As soon as they were out the door Virgil dug in his closet for his face mask, something he wore when he was feeling sick and didn’t want to infect others. And his shades. He was going to take a chance on Prince today. He made sure he had his evidence at the ready. He’d updated it earlier that week and last night he hadn’t learned anything new. He decided to go with the same look as yesterday so Prince would recognize him more easily. He made his way to the street and vanished in the alleys. After a few minutes he found the rooftop they’d used as their rendezvous point last night. Hopefully Prince wouldn’t make him wait too long. He lowered the intensity of his cloak to be more easily spotted should someone be looking for him. Suddenly he heard a sound behind him. “Good evening my shadowy friend,” the grand voice of Dream Prince drifted through the air. Virgil turned around, his coat flaring out with the movement. “Hey there highness,” he greeted as he tossed him the evidence bag. Clear of any fingerprints or DNA as far as he could manage it, as usual. Prince studied it for a moment. “Is this…?” he sounded surprised. “A show of good will. I thought about it…” not enough. Maybe he was biased because he reminded him of Roman. Or because he’d seen him during his training wheel days. Maybe he didn’t want to be alone anymore. “You seem alright. I’ll… I’ll have your back. If you have mine.” They could help each other. Grow stronger together. Weren’t heroes always at their strongest once they learned to work together? “You do know that if I hand this in, they’ll know I made contact?” This guy. Virgil chuckled, finding this strangely endearing. “You mean you haven’t told them yet?” Prince’s posture straightened almost defiantly. “You didn’t say you were alright with that!” Was he actually insulted by the idea of reporting back to his people without Virgil’s permission? Guess he’d read him right. Good to know. “Okay. Well, consider this my permission. If I don’t want to be found, I’ll disappear Prince.” He’d find a way to avoid Prince if it was necessary. “Tell the chief all communication with me goes through you. If you don’t mind.” Because Virgil didn’t trust the chief enough to go anywhere near her. Prince nodded as he reached for his ear. “I am currently debriefing Phantom. I’ll let you know when I’m done here. Tell chief I’ll stop by with a package. Radio silence until further notice.” Virgil couldn’t stop himself from letting out a chuckle. This guy. He really needed to be more careful. “You ever thought I might be a bad guy? You shouldn’t cut off your back up like that in front of me.” Had they taught him nothing at the GTH? “You’ve had plenty chances to take me out,” Prince pointed out, much to Virgil’s surprise. “You could have let those goons get me the first time you saw me. You could have attacked me while I was busy with those guys yesterday. And who knows how many times over the summer. And on top of that. Who says my communicator is my only way of contacting back up?” Okay, so maybe Prince knew what he was doing after all. “Fair enough. So what now?” He had no idea what would come after this. He just knew that Prince reached out, and he’d accepted. The ball was back in Prince’s court. “Now… I warn you about the collector.” That sounded very serious. He almost wanted to get out before he could get involved, but a gut feeling told him that this was important. He eyed the edge of the roof. Well might as well get comfortable. “I feel like this is a sitting down kind of conversation.” Once they both sat down, Virgil put on his sunglasses and dropped his cloak completely. It was symbolic or whatever. Letting his guard down in a visible way. He turned to the prince expectantly, a little annoyed at how the dark glasses limited his vision. Prince took in a deep breath and started his story. “The collector is an old enemy of Manifestor. He recruits Gifted, and those he thinks deserve to be gifted for some kind of revolution. You and I are probably his kind of people. Young, full of potential. All that stuff creeps like that love to go on about.” Virgil’s eyes widened. That did sound bad. He was suddenly very glad he had not confided in anyone about his powers so far. Who knew if the Chief was on the Collector’s payroll? Or maybe Picani was being spied on. “So we should be careful, you and I. I want to help you out,” Prince told him as he offered him two small objects. A stone and lip balm? “These can help you hide your identity without having to use your… Do you have a name for it?” Prince wondered. Virgil wasn’t sure if he could disguise his voice. But if he did, he was not going to risk Prince being someone from school who might recognize his voice. “Cloak,” he replied before dropping his guard again. “Cloak… Cool,” Prince nodded as he showed the black stone. “So this, is a voice modulator. I adjusted it to fit your tempest voice as best as I could.” Virgil couldn’t help laughing. Tempest voice? That sounded so cool honestly. But man was it dramatic. “You clearly have not heard it,” Prince pointed out and he had a point. He sounded normal to himself. “What’s with the lipstick?” he asked. “This will paint your hair black faster than any hair dye. It’s also a very good hair gel and it washes out right away,” Virgil bit his lip as Prince offered him the items. He was not used to being helped. Not as ‘Phantom’ at least. He still struggled with it as Virgil. Letting Roman help him with his English assignment yesterday had been hard. But he had to let people help him. He had to take a leap of faith here. So he took the items and got up to try them out. “No peeking!” he warned, though he would keep his cloak up. It was more to test if Prince would be tempted to go against his wishes. He didn’t. Virgil placed the modulator on his throat where Prince had his red stone and applied the balm to his hair. He spread it out and took a moment to decide on the style he wanted to go with. He tried for windblown, though he wasn’t sure if he did it right without a mirror. “Okay, let’s try this,” he said testing out his new voice. Wow, if that was what he really sounded like then Tempest voice might just have been the most accurate description. He looked back at Prince who was getting up and waling over to him. “Okay. So… what’s the plan?” he asked, curious what Prince was expecting out of this collaboration. “Well… We could try and meet up here regularly. We might not always patrol at the same time, and you might be busy. But I could… If you are okay with it… I could help you coordinate with the cops. Like you kinda suggested earlier. Or we could like, do some patrolling together? Keep each other company…” Oh, that was cute. Prince could be insecure. Virgil was starting to think he was unshakable. “It might be nice talking someone who gets it you know? You’re my age right?” he wondered. Nice try. Very subtle. “I mean… I guess, but I’m not sure how old you are exactly,” he shrugged casually. He wasn’t going to give anything away that easily. “Fair point.” Or maybe there hadn’t been an ulterior motive. He was getting paranoid. “Anyway… What do you want?” Virgil thought about that for a moment. He hadn’t expected to be asked for his opinion. “I mean… Debriefings sound cool,” he said casually. “I’d like to patrol with you, but my parkour is no match to that walking on air trick you got…” He was kind of jealous of that one if he was honest. “I was thinking of hanging around the clubbing district at the end of the night and making sure some party goers get home safe. I’ll see you around there when you’re done?” This talk was fun and all, but Prince should probably check in with his team soon. And Virgil needed to think about things for a minute. “That sounds like a good idea,” Prince agreed as he gave him a bow. “Until then. Know that the GTA’s resources are now at your disposal through me. So if you want to get a proper suit or other fun toys, you need only ask.” And with that Virgil’s new ally sprinted of into the night. A real suit huh? Virgil shook his head. He’d have to think on that some more. For now, he had work to do.

Hero au

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

#sanders sides #ts sides #hero au #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #prinxiety #logicality

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tamcitrus · 4 years

Text

Senior year.

I had fun writing this. It’s my first time writing Ushijima and I like what I did.

A big thanks to @loneveenas for beta-reading my work and all the great advices she gave me 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰

I wrote this for the HQ Writers’ Net monthly prompt! My prompt is: New Beginnings.

pairing | Ushijima x f!reader

words | 4k (!!!)

warnings | curse, insult

work is under the cut ~

Who the hell changed school in their senior year? Probably only you. It's not like you had a ton of friends to left behind anyways. On top of that, the last person you dated turned out to be a shit, so maybe this family drama and moving to another city was good. More so when you got a recommendation to enter a great Academy, Shiratorizawa, your mom's contacts finally put to good use, or so she said.

You became friends with a guy in your class who saw you playing guitar after lunch and approached you.

"Do you play? That's cool," he said, casually, as if he didn't spot you from across the campus.

"Uhm yeah, thanks," you forced a smile.

"Semi-semi, is this the new girl in your class? Hi! I'm Tendou Satori, Semi's best friend," a redhead sang from behind this Semi guy.

"No you're not, ugh," Semi pushed the other boy off him and he smiled at you.

"Hi Satori, hi Semi. I'm [y/n][l/n], nice to meet you both."

-*-*-*-*-*-

Within a few months, a lot of talks and pranks and a ton of hours playing guitar together, you and Semi Eita became best friends. Your taste in music, your passion in pursuing dreams, your humor, it was like you were siblings.

With him, and Satori, you got to know the whole Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club, and of course their ace: Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You and Ushijima had encountered each other a few times. Well, a “few” to say the least. He had seen you multiple times hanging out with Eita-kun outside the gym, just killing time until he had to practice. Today was not an exception.

“Ushijima-san! Is it practice time already?” Semi stood up and dusted his pants.

“No, it’s not. I’m here early,” the tall guy said, serious as usual.

“I can set for you,” Eita offered.

“If you want…” he said and kept walking.

“Do you want to watch, [y/n]? You can stay until it’s really the time for practice” Semi said, offering you his hand to help you get up.

“Am I allowed to?” you said. “Your handsome captain kinda intimidates me,” you said, entering the gym behind Semi, and loud enough for Ushijima to hear you.

If he did he didn’t react, Semi set ball after ball for him to spike, and it was interesting to watch. You grabbed your sketchbook and pencil and started drawing a few lines here and there from both boys playing.

“Ooooh~ will you draw me too?” Satori appeared out of nowhere and was crouching by your side, looking at your sketches.

“Of course I will, if you play,” you answered. The boys in the court were looking at your interaction with the middle blocker.

“Are you drawing us?” Semi said, walking your way. “Let me see.”

Ushijima was intrigued, he’s not gonna lie to himself. All of you intrigued him and it was so confusing to him. He walked to the bench and drinked water while you showed his teammates your drawings.

“Wakatoshi! Yours is great, come to see it!” Satori pulled him from his shirt, and you held your notebook for him to watch. “This is great, you should be a mangaka,” Satori said.

“It’s just a hobby,” you laughed. You saw Washijo-sensei arrive to the gym. You got your belongings together quickly so the old sensei couldn't scold you for intruding his practice. “See you later guys!” you exited the building from the contrary door where the coach was standing.

Ushijima was flattered. No one before had drawn him and showed said draw to him. You really were intriguing.

-*-*-*-*-*-

The next day you get to the volleyball table, as people called it, looking for Semi. You were one of the few affortunates outside the team, if not the only one, to sit there from time to time.

“Can I help you?” Ushijima asked.

"I was looking for Eita," you said. Your eyes were red, as if you were crying.

"He's sick, he isn't coming today," Leon answered.

"Oh, that's why I couldn't reach him… Thanks and sorry for interrupting."

You turned around, leaving a table full of volleyball players confused. Satori took his food and followed you to another table.

"Are you ok?" He said, sitting in front of you and offering his food.

"Yep. All good," you forced a smile. "Just needed Eita."

"You're catching someone else's attention~" he said, gesturing with his head to his previous table. Ushijima was looking at you, no intentions of being subtle. Not that he cared about what anyone else thinks but he really wasn't trying. "I can get you his address if you want to check on him," Tendou offered.

"I'd like that, thanks Satori."

You ended at Semi's house after school, sitting at the end of his bed while he was just lying there recovering from a fever.

"I'm sorry to come and bother you when you're like this," you ended telling him your newest family drama. The fact that your father tried to convince you with material stuff, such as a car or money, so you went to live with him made you upset, it made you feel like he didn't love you, he just wanted to win something to your mom. You were almost crying again.

"It's ok, I told you I'd be there no matter what and I'm keeping my promise. I can't hug you right now so just hug my pillow instead."

"I'm definitely getting sick after this," you laughed.

"Ushijima texted me. He was worried about you," your friend said and waited for your reaction.

"Bullshit," you scoffed and Semi lent you his phone.

Eita-kun, [y/n] was looking for you and didn't look good. Is she ok? you had read the text a few times but still didn't believe it.

"I told him it was a family business and I'll keep him updated," he waited a minute for you to say something and took his phone back. "Oh my, you're speechless."

"This doesn't make any sense," you looked at Semi. "He doesn't even talk to me."

"He's just like that," he shrugged. "But obviously he has you in mind. Maybe you actually have a chance to get your crush."

"I don't have a crush on him," you lied.

You were observing him since you started the year at his same class. Besides his looks, he was handsome, his personality was intriguing. He was interesting. His stoic face, his direct manners, his apparent lack of interest in anything but volleyball, his persistence with practicing, all about him and the intensity he did anything with was outstanding for you.

"Yeah the ton of sketches you have of him don't say the same," your friend scoffed.

You thought Eita didn't notice it, but he did: how your gaze lasted a few seconds longer on him than on anyone else, the way you blush when he greets you every morning, the sudden shyness when he approached Semi and you when you were playing guitar on the breaks, the fact that you had an obvious fixation on drawing the ace of the team, and he could go on the whole day.

You left Semi's house that day finally admitting that maybe, just maybe you did have a crush on his captain.

-*-*-*-*-*-

A week later you were sick. It's your fault so come over here and bring me some snacks and any homework we get, you texted you friend. And of course his only brain cell found a way to try and help you become close to your crush.

"Ushijima-san, can I ask you a favor?" Eita took the captain away from everyone after class and when he nodded, Eita continued. "[Y/n] couldn't come today and she asked me to get her the homework from math class. I can't bring it to her today but she lives near your house, maybe you can drop it on your way home? Only if you want, I don't want to bother you," he didn't even have an excuse, but he hoped his teammate didn’t ask why. "I'm sorry, I don't really trust anyone else to do it," he bowed.

"I can do it, no problem," Wakatoshi said. He could be reliable, it was his duty as captain, right?

And there he was, knocking on your door. He would just drop Semi's notes and leave, maybe he'd have time to practice some more on his house.

"It's open!" you said from inside.

"[Y/n]-san? It's Ushijima Wakatoshi. May I come in?" he was standing at the entrance. He closed the door behind him and noticed that your house smelled like you. He heard you cough in surprise.

"Yes, come in!"

He saw you in the living room, on the couch and wrapped up in a blanket.

"Hi, Ushijima-kun. I'm so sorry to bother you. I don't know what happened to Semi, he's a douchebag. Thanks so much for coming," you stood up and got the notebook from his hand.

"You shouldn't have left your door unlocked" he commented. "Are your parents home?"

"Mom works late today, so, no," you stood up and started walking to the kitchen.

"And your father?"

"Not in the picture," you smiled but it didn't reach your eyes. You were mad and still avoiding him after the 'come live with me and you'll get a car' thing, it wasn't the best thing Ushijima could ask at the moment. "Can I offer you some tea? Or coffee?" You walked behind the kitchen counter.

"I’m sorry. Just a tea please," he sat at your table. He wasn't planning on staying but he made you uncomfortable by asking things about your family and he couldn't just leave now.

"It's nothing. He barely was around so now that I grow up it's not a big deal," you set a cup of tea in front of him and another in front of you. "Is your family waiting for you? I don't want to keep you."

"I let them know I was coming to a classmate's house, so it's ok."

He drank his tea in silence, your tv playing softly in the background. He felt something touch his leg and saw a big grey cat.

"Grape, leave him alone!" you scolded. "Sorry, he's excited to have visits. We don't receive much people besides Eita," you smiled. Ushijima thought this was the first genuine smile he saw on you, and he liked it. The cat made his way to your lap and purred.

"He's nice," he stated. What was it about you that he found so fascinating?

"Oh, I drawed something to make a flyer for the next tournament. Do you want to see it?" you offered and went to find it. You were back with a big drawing with him in the middle and the rest of the team from major to minor by his sides. "This was fun to do, and the fact that you're the tallest also made it easier."

"It looks good. Thanks for doing this, I’m sorry we can’t repay you," he felt kinda bad about it.

"I like to do it, so it's fine. Semi buys me snacks for this so he’s repaying," you giggled. You took his empty cup and yours and went to the kitchen to wash it.

Ushijima couldn't help himself and went through your drawings while he waited for your return. You were really good, Tendou was right. He saw there were a lot of him: him in lunch, him looking absentmindedly at the window in class, him in the court and spiking, him and Semi talking. Each one was better than the last. This was how you looked at him? You made him look way cooler than he thought he was.

You took a little longer than usual to wash two empty cups but you needed a minute to recompose yourself, you felt nervous and flustered, the fever you had wasn't helping either. Then you turned around, ready to talk about nothing again, and Wakatoshi was looking through your sketchbook. He was looking at your drawings. To be more specific, he was looking at his drawings. Shit, he wasn't supposed to see those. You walked slowly back to the table.

"Oh I'm… really embarrassed, you shouldn't have seen that," you were now standing at the opposite side of the table, his eyes still fixated on your sketches. “I can discard them if it makes you uncomfortable,” you held your hand open for him to return your notebook. He looked up. You were blushing.

“I like them. I really like that you draw me,” he admitted and returned your sketches. “I have to go now. Thanks for the tea.”

“Thanks for coming,” you said and watched him leave. You exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding as you saw his back fading at the distance.

That was fucking unreal. You felt overwhelmed and there was only a person to blame. No, not Ushijima, he was being nice, in his own way. I’ll fucking kill you tomorrow istg, you texted Semi. He felt triumphant and didn’t care about your death threat. Yeah you can thank me later, he responded.

-*-*-*-*-*-

The next day Eita received glares from you all morning, you refused to talk to him. He didn’t really care, he knew his little trick yesterday had been put into effect when Ushijima asked him that morning if you were coming to school today. You avoided your usual table and sat alone at lunch, away from the volleyball club table and away from your friend, maybe when he didn't find you he'd leave you alone for the day.

“Hey,” he said when he found you and he sat in front of you. “Come on, you can’t be mad forever [y/n], I’m your best friend,” he whined a little.

“Shut up, he saw all my fucking sketches. He might think I’m a stalker and it’s your fault,” you hissed. You felt Ushijima’s stare all morning and now you saw him looking at you and Semi when he stood up and followed the team to exit the cafeteria.

“He’s looking this way, isn’t he? He asked for you today, before you arrived. So, I won. You’re really on his mind!” he grinned.

"You're way too excited for this. He's probably thinking how to tell me that I throw all of the drawings I did of him!"

"I wouldn't ask you that. I like them."

Suddenly, a tall figure was behind you. You glared at Semi for not warning you and turned around to greet Ushijima.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he said in the same casual tone he used before.

"I'll leave you two alone. Find me later, ok?" Eita smiled at you and at his captain before leaving.

"Hi Wakatoshi-kun," you felt your cheeks turn red. "Thanks again for coming yesterday and keeping me company. I enjoyed it. I'm sorry that Eita bothered you."

"I'm… I had a good time too," how could he explain what he felt? It was all too confusing. "I was thinking if you would like to come and see me at our practice game tomorrow after class?" that couldn't fail. He saw his teammates asking their girlfriends to come and watch their games. Well- you weren't his girlfriend. Not yet. But this could be a good start.

"Oh… yeah I'd like that," you smiled.

Wait, did he just think about you being his girlfriend?

-*-*-*-*-*-

And there you were. Sitting on the floor by the door, sketching again while the guys did their warm up. Ushijima had seen you arriving and slightly bowed his head to say hi.

"Hey." Semi approached you. "I didn't tell you we were playing. What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry? Someone else invited me, you shitty friend," you smiled.

Eita knew that smile wasn't for him, you were still pretending to be mad at him. He turned around to follow your gaze and saw Ushijima looking back at you. It was almost imperceptible but he was smiling too. Wakatoshi was smiling at you.

"Oh, you so owe me one," Semi said and went back to the court.

You were going to insult him again but he was too far when you reacted. Well, maybe you did owe him, but you had something else in mind at the moment. When the game was over, and Shiratorizawa obviously won, Ushijima approached you.

“If you want to wait a bit I’ll walk you home, we’re having a meeting and then I’m done,” he explained.

“Of course, I’ll be sitting outside waiting for you,” you smiled. You were smiling a lot that day.

Ten or twenty minutes later, you didn’t really know, he was standing behind you and observing how you finished a drawing.

“Oh, Ushijima-kun! Sorry, didn’t hear you were here. Are you ready to go?” you closed your sketchbook and put it back on your backpack.

He nodded and offered his hand to help you stand. Remember Wakatoshi, ask her about how she feels and if she has someone in mind, like a crush or something, Tendou said before he left. No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t have a casual talk like that out of nowhere. But he could try.

“You played well today. I mean, you always do, but you were like even better today,” you said when you started walking out of school.

“I didn’t know you understand about volleyball,” he said. He felt in better shape today too, for some reason.

“Uh yeah, my… the last guy I dated played too. He was good and he explained it to me, so I have a pretty decent knowledge and I can tell when someone is good. You’re awesome.”

“You don’t… anymore? Date them, I mean,” well maybe he can do small talk.

“No!” that was too enthusiastic. “I mean, no, I don’t. That was one of the reasons I moved here, besides from my parents divorce. There’s this saying that goes like better be alone than in bad company. Well, my mom and I sticked to that,” you laughed. He liked that, your laugh and how you can laugh from the bad experiences.

“Am I a good company?” he was genuinely curious but it sounded like he was flirting, though he had no idea how to do it.

“Yes you are!” you said quickly, you didn't even need to think, of course he was. You stopped and looked at him. “I uhm… I like you, Ushijima-kun. Like romantically? I don’t know if that makes sense to you but…”

“I like you too, I think. I keep getting distracted when you’re around at school and today I wanted to impress you, so I tried to play at my %120,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, that sounds like you like me,” you giggled. He was so bold and sincere. “Can I kiss you?”

His mind went blank for a minute. Had he even kiss someone before? Yeah, at that dumb 'spin the bottle' game, on the party his teammates organized for the beginning of their senior year. Had he kissed someone he felt something for? No, definitely no. He wasn't even sure he liked someone before. His mind was put on volleyball the whole time.

He was staring at you. Your eyes were on his, expectant. He sighed and put his big hands on your waist, instinctively closing the distance between your bodies. You felt his warm through your shirt. You put your hands over his and made your way up his arms slowly. Even on your tiptoes you didn’t reach his mouth so when he finally nodded you pulled him down by the collar of his jacket.

It was a soft and chaste kiss, his chapped lips felt so good against your own. You caressed them with the tip of your tongue, hesitant. He mimicked your actions and your tongues explored each other's mouth shily. You retreated for a second to look him in the eyes. He smiled and kissed you again, this time with the same passion he did everything else on his life. It was more insistent, almost clingy. You tangled a hand on his hair, it was incredibly soft, and the other rested on his chest. When you separated looking for air, his hands were still holding firmly to your waist.

“Semi… Eita-kun told me you had a bad experience with your ex. I would never do such a thing. If you want, I can try and give you a new beginning, a new experience…”

“Ushijima, are you asking me to date you?” you interrupted, surprised. You also made a mental note to punch Semi. “Oh my, the Ushijima Wakatoshi is asking me out, for god’s sake” you didn’t want to tease him but you couldn’t help yourself.

He looked at you, unamused. This wasn’t a joke to him but he learned that your way of coping with things was through laughter, so he waited for you to pass the surprise and be serious again, the whole time holding you from your waist against his body.

“You’re not answering,” he said after a minute. You were just looking at him and blushing.

“I want to,” you said and caressed his face. “I’d like that, yeah. So… can I call you my boyfriend now?”

“Yes you can, you're my girlfriend now,” he simply said. He let you go and started walking again as if nothing happened.

“Can I hold your hand?” when he hummed in response, you kept talking. “And can I kiss you tomorrow at lunch? Oh everyone’s gonna be so surprised!” you looked at your hands held together.

He laughed at your silly questions and comments about how your classmates were going to react when they saw you together. You arrived at your home and he walked you to the door.

“For real, can I kiss you in front of everyone tomorrow? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you were just joking before but now you really wanted him to voice his thoughts.

“Yes, just not in class,” he answered. “Sadly, I have to go now so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Text me when you get home,” you said and he kissed you one more time before leaving.

-*-*-*-*-*-

"Maybe, just maybe, I owe you a big one," you said the next morning after greeting Semi.

"Yeah, how's that?" your friend asked with a satisfied smile.

"I confessed yesterday. And it went even better than I thought."

"Yeah, I know. Tendou told me. I can't believe you didn't call me yesterday after it happened," he whispered, he was offended. "Maybe the whole school knows by now."

You laughed out loud. Ushijima told you he mentioned the situation to Satori, he was his best friend and the one who advised him to confess his feelings, so you texted him too to thank him.

"I wanted to surprise you, I didn't expect the rumor to spread throughout the school like fire!"

And in fact, by lunchtime the whole school was talking about you and how could it be that the new girl conquered Ushijima’s heart in a few months? If the girls didn't like you before, now some of them definitely hated you. It didn't really matter, you would make it work. After almost a year of bad experiences, you were happy again.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Your relationship with Ushijima was easier than you expected, somehow your opposite personalities balanced each other. Your routine didn’t change that much, but now you walked home in your boyfriend’s company everyday. Your mom loved him, of course she did, he was a gentleman, he even bought her a present the day you asked him to come dinner to meet her.

Your senior year was coming to an end, and you were more than happy with all the new things that came with it.

"Would you come to prom with me?" Ushijima asked at the end of the day.

You were chilling on your couch after his practice, watching a volleyball game of a team he liked. Your legs were tangled together, your back resting on his chest and his head resting on top of your head.

"Of course, Toshi! I wouldn't want to go with anyone else," you took his hand and kissed it, both of you still focused on the game.

He didn't think you'd say no, but he had to make sure, just in case.

Almost five months have passed since the day he asked you to date him and he was sure of two things about his future: he wanted to be a professional player and he wanted to spend as many time as he could with you, maybe not necessarily in that order.

Neither of you believed in 'happily ever after', not with your respective parents' divorce, but you did believe in spending many years together, making each other happy.

#haikyuuwriters 0520 #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima oneshot #haikyuu ushijima #hq ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushiwaka #shiratorizawa #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyū!!

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seokiloquy · 3 years

Text

Bruised Ink - Kageyama Tobio

Soulmate AU: When you write on your skin it appears in the same spot on your soulmates body

Requested (though I changed it a bit to keep it as canon as possible)

Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, Kageyama being a bit of an airhead, mild swearing

Word Count: 1.7K+

Art club, morning, lunch, and after school. Though admittedly your art club supervisor / English teacher didn’t enjoy seeing an eager face so early in the morning. She, over a matter of days, had gotten used to your silent presence in the corner of the art room as she worked on papers, occasionally asking for your opinion on a topic.

“See you after school!” you called down the hall, before waving to your aforementioned supervisor who was talking to the art teacher in the corner.

You flicked your uniform jacket off, letting it hang off the top of a chair as you ran to your canvas. The clean paint brushes waited patiently next to the progressing piece of art and your pallet rested next to them, mummified and waiting to let it’s paints feel the air again. You delicately picked at the tape wrapped around the pallet, pulling it off to reveal the chemical smell of acrylics.

You gazed at your painting for a moment, admiring the contrasting muted colours that blended nicely into the slowly fading background. Taking a brush, no larger than the width of your pinky, you reached for a vibrant green and royal blue, ready to dollop small portions onto your pallet. You huffed through your nose as a clump of blue stuck to your fingers. With no paper towel in sight, you kept your mouth shut and rubbed the paint against the back of your opposite arm.

“You’re going to stain your skin,” your teacher huffed behind you as she walked to her desk, brushing a free hand through her bob cut. “It looks almost like a bad bruise.”

You sighed, picking up your pallet and brush, gently working the bright teal colour you mixed into the layers of your canvas. “Maybe, but if I’m lucky it’ll be gone before any of the other teachers notice just like every other time.”

She gave you a quirked brow sliding into your spinning chair that was tucked into the corner of the room. She grabbed a pen with one hand and sipped on her coffee mug with the other. “What do you mean by that?”

You laughed. “Every time I doodle, draw, paint, or just anything on my skin whatsoever, it’s gone before I see it again.”

“So your soulmate’s washing it off before class?” she hummed, turning her eyes away from your blocked-out painting and onto the sheets before her.

“I don’t have a tattoo or a red string, so most likely, ya. They probably don’t want to get in trouble. Or maybe they’re in a swim club and don’t even notice it?”

Chuckling she looked up but kept her head down, gifting you the sight of a mischievous look. “Or they could be sweating it all off.”

“How often does a person sweat to get rid of that much ink on a daily basis?”

“There are some dedicated athletes out there.” She shrugged, rubbing the golden tattoo on the back of her hand. “Then again, all soulmate connections are a bit different.

Humming, you turned back to your painting that leaned against the wall. “What are you working on this morning, Ms. Ono?”

Behind you, a page flipped followed by a groan. “First-year English.”

“First-year? I thought you taught second-year English?”

“I did for Sugawara’s class, but I usually teach the first-year.”

You pushed your brush into the canvas a little harder. “Damn, I thought I would get to be in your class.”

“Sorry, kiddo, but you wouldn’t be in my English class anyway. But your Japanese is improving!”

You huffed through your nose. “I’d hope so, the Sugawara’s really aren’t giving me a break.” You studied your canvas and took a step back, looking at how the light bounced off the surface and made the teal look with the less saturated colours.

“Good on them.”

“Don’t encourage it!”

“Kageyama, what happened to your arm?”

The boy’s grown out bowl cut swished as he flipped his arms around turning his head in search before eventually finding the offending colour that had spread into his skin. Twisting his arm, he gave the colour an indecisive look, before poking it his index finger. “Must be a bruise. Probably smacked it when we were setting up the net. Doesn’t hurt though. So hurry up, let’s get started.”

“Why does everyone have to get to school so early,” Sugawara mumbled to himself, pushing the door to the gym open as he ruffled his hair. He spoke louder, “Tanaka, can’t you stop these two?”

“Sorry, dude. But I’m having fun with this. Why are you here so early anyway?”

Sugawara sat down in the doorway, changing his shoes and rolling off his uniform pants to reveal his loose shorts for practice. “(Y/N) has been coming to school early to paint. And my parents said ‘they’ll get lost, you go too’ instead of ‘no, sleep a little longer.’”

Tanaka huffed through his nose, “Has (L/N) been settling in well?”

“Oh ya. Eichi loves the new company. But now I have to keep up with essentially two siblings instead of one and these two idiots.” The silver-haired boy yawned as he gestured at the two first years that yelled at each other while throwing balls into the air.

Tanaka gets out a gruff chuckle before running into the centre of the gym to join the duo with endless energy.

“Gone again,” you mumbled as you slowly packed up the bento box that Koushi’s mom had prepared for you.

Your arm, which had been covered in paint stains and ink marks across the whole colour spectrum, had been wiped clean. No doubt the work of your soulmate and whatever activity they partook in during their free time.

Grumbling, you took out your white ink pen and doodled a subtle frowning face on the inner crease of your wrist.

Ms. Ono rose from her seat, patting away invisible dirt that clung to her dark pencil skirt as the warning bell sounded through the speaker system. “Alright, (L/N). I have a class to teach, out you get.” She shuffled hat stacked papers in her hand, pausing for a moment as a look of realization was thrown onto her face. “Oh and, there won’t be art club this evening, so tell the other members too.”

“What? but that’s the best part of my day!”

“Sorry, (L/N) but I can’t be in here all the time.”

You whined, following the English teacher out of the room. Mr. Sato, the art head, walked into the paint-filled classroom as you left. You both gave him a friendly nod, before continuing with your conversation. “What can I do then? I’m not allowed to go home alone.”

Ms. Ono hummed, “Why don’t you sit in on Sugawara’s volleyball practice, you can use it as a figure study and sketch in your notebook.”

“I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

“Well, there you go. Alright, get, to class or you’ll be late.” She stepped into her sunlit classroom, walking straight for her desk with clicking heels.

You left the entryway of class 1-1’s homeroom and started making your way down the hall to your own room in class 1-4. As you weaved through the crowded hall of first years you kept your head up, looking for the nearest tunnel of space, only to get locked against the wall staring into the eyes of an intense schoolmate you were unaware of.

“Uh sorry,” you mumbled, looking away from his pinched brow and sharp eyes that only held your gaze for a moment.

He raised a brow, looking down the hall behind you to his classroom. Saying nothing, he huffed and schooled his expression. Placing the opposite hand on your shoulder, he spun your body to be behind him, switching locations, and continued down the hall. You watched his flat black hair bounce as he turned into class 1-3’s room.

“Well, isn’t he sweaty,” you mumbled to yourself as you made the last few steps into your classroom.

“Koushi, Koushi, Koushi. Are you sure it’s okay for me to sit in?”

“Just don’t encourage any foolishness and it should be fine. We still have to practice.”

You nodded, following your homestay as he led you to his club’s gym, rambling about his teammates.

“Ah, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi? They’re in my class. I didn’t know they played volleyball.”

“Do you talk to them?”

“No sir, I do not think Tsukishima's intimidating.”

Sugawara led you to the side where their manager stood, speaking with one of the teachers you had seen running around the school, you bowed silently as Sugawara quickly gave an introduction and ran off to change his shoes and clothes.

The group had an easy time ignoring your presence as you sat on the metal bench, flipping coloured pens between your fingers. Rough doodles filled the page as messily scribbled outlines took the form of the players you saw before you. Some were stretched out in the air while others dove to the ground in elegant swoops.

Your pen skidded across the paper.

“Damn,” you muttered, lifting the tip and forcing it into the papers again. Nothing.

Twirling the ink-filled tool between your fingers you shifted the sketchbook off your lap and taking the pen to the surface of your skin.

The ink skidded, leaving uneven marks in an indecipherable pattern along the surface of your skin before running dry. You reached for another pen, only for the result to repeat. You grabbed another, and another. The pattern continued, pushing and pulling, dragging the fine tips as they slowly began to cover the entire surface of the back of your hand in every colour including your white ink, which luckily still worked fine and contrasted brilliantly with the muddied mess on your hand.

You huffed out a quiet cheer of success, finding that a majority of your pens worked fine, and placed the forgotten book back into your lap, coloured pages ready to be drawn over with your trusty series of pens.

“Yo, Kageyama. Is that another bruise?”

God this one is vague as hell but I didn’t have to brainpower to make it any more decipherable.

It was originally requested that the reader be Sugawara’s little sibling but he only canonically has a little brother, not everyone physically looks like Sugawara, and the adoption trope is meh to me. So I went with a foreign exchange student that is being housed by his family. (if you couldn’t tell)

This au, in particular, is very hard because we try to keep our character (being Y/N) physically ambiguous for the purpose of allowing everybody to enjoy reading it. This au very much panders to those with lighter skin, so I apologize if I didn’t make it as open as I could’ve and please let me know if there are ways I can make this sort of au better. I want everyone to enjoy reading them and not feel excluded.

That’s all, and I hope everyone is healthy and safe. - Bacon

Posted: 06/12/2020

#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

Text

Alright, and I am back with another update! But first, some stuff a friend noticed in the first few pages and mentioned to me that I didn’t take in when I went over them on my own the first time:

The park they’re in as kids is pretty close to the apartment complex Izuku and his mom live in! Considering that said apartment complex is right there in the background. Which probably isn’t a huge thing, but a neat thing to note.

The age these kids manifest their quirks at seems to be more preteen / teenage years, though I don’t know whether that’s just because it is later activation or because there were (subtle) quirks before that, with the glowing baby just being the one that had people sit up and realize something was actually going on.

Endeavor ad! And it has the time of that event that day, too - 8:14 AM! I wonder what he’s advertising… or perhaps it’s a news report? An interview of some kind? It might just be a ‘breaking news, we got Endeavor on our channel’ sort of thing. The only part that I can read is the first three katakana for the biggest text, which is ‘E-n-de’ and matches the wiki’s katakana for ‘Endeavor’. If anyone can get a good enough look at the smaller text in order to tell me what the rest says, I would appreciate it!

Just a few things, but obviously I need to up my observation game if I want to catch all this stuff!

[No. 1 - Midoriya Izuku: Origin]

So now we’re at Aldera / Orudera Junior High, with Izuku’s class being in their last year before high school. Since Japan’s schools start on the second week of April, we know this has to be that first week of school, because Katsuki’s still 14 and his birthday is April 20th, which would almost always be the third week of April / second week of school.

What is that writing stance. You are going to have an old man’s back by the time you graduate high school. I mean, I wouldn’t know anything about that personally, cough cough…

Anyways! We get a look at Izuku’s class and their quirks, and what a collection. Also, with an attitude like that, no wonder this school is seen as bad, like, what the fuck dude. Not exactly a competent homeroom teacher, are you?

The ones that I can see, from leftmost row to rightmost row, are [1] floating hair, stretchy fingers, dark matter, [2] smokey arms, spike fists, stretchy eyes, frog throat, some sort of flash/illumination quirk, [3] rocky body, ???, stretchy neck, flamethrower arms, extra arms, [4] sharp hair, big chompers, wedge face, [quirkless], mouth face (seen in the next panel and holy FUCK new sleep paralysis demon), [5] horns, telekinesis, [explosion], buff bod, ???, [6] wind control, ???

WHY.

But yeah, this also establishes the first rule of ‘don’t use quirks in school’ thing that… also gets promptly ignored the several other times we see stuff set in this school. Which, what a shock, people sort of sliding around inconvenient rules.

Anyways, Katsuki has proven that he hasn’t changed since those first few childhood panels way back (checks) ten pages ago. And Izuku is being… very shy and trying to avoid drawing attention. But no shaking, particularly, just… wallflower mode, more like.

But yeah, Katsuki is not exactly on great terms with the rest of the class, who are rightfully pissed off at him treating them rudely and calling them extras. Though honestly, I’m surprised that they’re surprised he’s aiming for UA, it’s not like he wouldn’t have been obvious about that for, like, years at this point. You’d think they’d all roll their eyes and be like ‘yeah yeah we’ve heard this spiel before’ or something. IDK.

Oh man, and Izuku already KNOWS what’s coming, look at how he’s hiding his face!

Katsuki is, of course, Fucking Extra and hops on his desk, and gets right into bragging, where, AGAIN, this should have been stuff this class has known about for ages, why are they so shocked?? And huh, interesting, he’s not only interested in surpassing All Might, but also in being one of the richest people in the world. Wow, I cannot even with him, especially knowing he lives in this house in particular:

Which, it should be clear, is an EXPENSIVE lifestyle when most families live in modest apartments because of space being so valuable in Japan.

God this is a fantastic image. I wanna frame it on a wall somewhere. Hori managed to convey all the emotions in one face and I admire the man for it.

With the whole class laughing, there’s a thing I want to note that fandom seems to not pay attention to: they note that Izuku gets good grades! I’ve seen fics that basically have him forced to sabotage his own grades to avoid getting backlash, but like… no, I don’t think that’s actually a thing.

[Also an aside, we finally see one more class quirk, which seems to be some sort of bulked up arm? It looks a bit like mummy bandages, as far as I can tell.]

Izuku gets into defending himself, saying there’s no precedent, but he IS defending himself against them, so again, he’s not cowering as much as some people seem to think he does based on fics, and clearly he’s still willing to stand up for himself to some degree.

...then of course, Katsuki blows up Izuku’s desk and sends Izuku sprawling. And is pissed that Izuku apparently thinks he, who is quirkless, can somehow be on the same level as Katsuki. Izuku swears up and down that it’s not about Katsuki, that he just really wants to try, and this somehow pisses Katsuki off even more.

I want you all to remember this image - save it on your computers, bookmark this post, whatever you need to do. We’ll come back to it in, oh (checks watch) about 284 chapters. Or maybe sooner in a separate post where I can put it under read more and avoid spoiling people more than this does. Because DAMN can I gush on this moment.

Anyways, we have a change of scene, right after noon, with a thief with a sludge transformation and,,,,,,,, legs and pants,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Where the fuck did those pants go, sir. Sir. What the fuck, sir.

Also, we get our first meeting with the OG dad, the sunflower man himself, who blooms into 255 kilos of muscle in one panel. Also, man I forgot about the fucking giraffe neck Hori used to draw him with, holy heck, why are you so l o n g.

L O N G.

...right, anyways, back to the school, which is apparently over for the day. The rest of the class is heading out, and Izuku’s back to his chipper self, even humming a happy note as he grabs his notebook-

Before Katsuki nabs it from his hands. There are a few people who’ve hung back who notice the title and pick fun at izuku, so I guess Izuku actually… doesn’t talk about his desire to be a hero that much in middle school, if the others are all so surprised about it. He apparently doesn’t even make his notebooks obvious to them, since this is the first time any of them seem to be seeing it. Which I mean, it makes sense if the class will tease him for it, but like. Even with Katsuki stealing the book, Izuku’s not super panicked or having a nervous breakdown.

But yeah, Katsuki just blasts the book, but! It’s just the cover singed (and edges) when we know he could have demolished that book entirely. Again, he’s definitely being a bully and a jerk here, but he’s got way more self-control than fandom likes to assume.

Izuku’s upset because of his damaged notebook, and Katsuki just huffs and throws it out the window while saying he’s gonna be the only kid from Aldera to go to UA. And Izuku, EVEN WHILE STRESSING, thinks of him as vain for thinking that way! That’s not the first thought of someone too terrified to do anything.

Edit: As pointed out to me in [this post], it was Katsuki’s crony who was thinking of him as vain, not Izuku. My bad!

Also note the lack of damage to Izuku’s school uniform. I know I’ve seen fics where there’s a hole made and a burn scar left that Izuku has to tend to, but Katsuki, again, has not directly used his quirk against Izuku. We’ve never seen it, just the smoke and flash used for intimidation. I’m getting more and more confident that Katsuki has never actually used his quirk against a person, which I’m probably gonna get a bit more into during the battle training in a few chapters.

But yeah, the cronies / extras basically call Izuku lame and that he can’t face reality. And then we get this scene:

That’s not the face of someone afraid. That’s Izuku’s determined face.

Izuku is about to stand up to Katsuki again. The way he always has, the way he always will. There has never been a point in the series where Izuku has NOT stood up to Katsuki when he feels it matters, and that’s part of the reason Katsuki is so pissed with him every time he does - because Izuku REFUSES to see his place! Not once!

(Please, for the love of god, respect the Izuku who didn’t need a quirk to stand up to others. Who isn’t ‘broken’ or ‘terrified’ of Katsuki or anything like that. He’s a stubborn kid and we Stan That.)

Izuku, however, is not confident enough in this situation to want to press the issue, so he relents and says nothing when Katsuki prods him to escalate things. And then we immediately get to the ‘you idiot, don’t fucking suicide bait!’ but you can tell it’s been a stressful few moments for him.

So yeah, the summary of this section is ‘Izuku is not an uwu suffering babey, and Katsuki is way more restrained than people seem to think.’

I’m cutting it off here since, again, we got a lot of info and character examination, and honestly this whole chapter is a long ass one (55 pages!!!!) and it’s establishing the entire setting from the ground up. And honestly, I’m just vibing in being Right about how I’ve been viewing the characters at the start of the series… even if i am guilty of sometimes playing with fanon for my own means…

Still, this is fun! Hopefully y’all are having fun too!

#chapter 1 #opening arcs #readthrough #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #yagi toshinori #we respect canon characterizations in this household #I love how hori handles characters and I will definitely be taking notes through this #this time with the formatting done BEFORE I post it

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