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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 1 year

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Midoriya-sensei AU

Chapter 12: Sports Day

I've decided I'm going to officially change updates to the 15th of every month, because I just don't have to time to post twice a month considering the chapters seem to be getting longer (who's fault could that be? ^^') and I don't want to disappoint

Also, I made a POLL regarding a minor side plot, so let me know if you're interested or not!

Part 11 | Ao3 | Part 13

[Sunday 8th October]

Me [1812]: I'm sorry im watching ths news and.erm did you jut use YOUR FIRE???

Me [1813]: Thats so amazing you look great I'm so proud of you!

Me [1814]: I will be screaming to you about this next time I see you but for now I'll just scream over text

Me [1814]: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Shoto-kun 🙏 [1833]: 🔥

***

Izuku, understandably, felt extra excited when he walked into work Monday morning. It had been over a week and not only had Shoto taken what he’d said to heart, but he’d actually started training his fire!

Initially, Izuku had been concerned—Shoto’s replies had been slow and abrupt since their hangout, and Fuyumi had even noticed that he’d been staying back at the agency later than usual—but after his friend’s shift yesterday evening, a phone call had quickly put those worries to rest. It turned out that Shoto had simply spent the past week training his left side; he’d even called for private coaching from Eraserhead and Endeavour, the latter of which was surprising but logical.

‘He’s not a complete bastard wank anymore, and what good is my father if I can’t take advantage of his knowledge?’ He could practically hear the shrug in Shoto’s voice. ‘He was pretty helpful, and Eraser was his usual brutal self. I learnt a lot.’

‘I’m really glad!’ Izuku’s cheeks hurt from smiling. ‘So you’re feeling more confident?’

‘The past week’s been hell, and I still have a lot of catching up to do, but yeah.’ A pause. ‘I feel confident to begin using my… my fire, in the field.’

Izuku honestly couldn’t wait to see Shoto’s growth. He was already so proud of his friend, and he knew his family would be too, especially Rei. It was a huge step—he was going to need to compile a new notebook dedicated solely to Shoto's left side.

He was still grinning about it, even as he walked across the field, setting up the obstacle course for the students.

Part of Izuku was also thankful for the timing, as Shoto's news was what was currently suppressing the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. After all, today was sports day, and while the event was typically one of his favourites in the academic calendar, they were also using it to implement their last minute plan to help Hiru.

They couldn't afford for anything to go wrong.

‘Hey.’ Fuyumi walked over, smiling gently. She’d already finished helping one of the other teachers set up the beanbag toss. ‘How’re you doing?’

‘Ask me again in approximately eight hours.’ He chuckled humorlessly as he lined up the tunnels, before positioning the skipping ropes on the other side. 'I'll be honest, I'm feeling a nervous poop coming.'

'You sound like Natsuo.' She snorted, immediately reaching down to help him with the equipment.

‘I’ll take that as a complement.’ He stuck his tongue out in response. ‘Thanks.’

His lower body grumbled with discomfort and he pulled a face. ‘Once this is finished, I’ll pop over. Just the sacks left after this.’

‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll finish off here.’ Despite her kindness, there was an assertive air to her voice which told Izuku that she wasn’t accepting no for an answer.

That was fine with him.

‘Really? Thank you! You’re the best honestly!’ He immediately dropped everything and ran to the building. Once inside, he beelined for the staff toilets. ‘Thank fuck…’

Once he was finished, Izuku checked his phone to find that it was only a few minutes before the first bell. Luckily, his classroom wasn’t too far. Anxiety still lingered in his body—he suspected it would for the duration of the school day—but it wasn’t overwhelming; he still smiled brightly as he greeted his students and took the register, before leading them to the assembly hall. They had all come to school in their PE kits, so it was rather amusing to see them wearing their usual school shoes instead of their trainers, due to being inside.

Izuku then took his place next to Fuyumi, like clockwork, and the two of them watched the other students filter in.

‘Did you get sorted okay?’

‘Yeah, all good.’ She shrugged. ‘Did you have a good poop?’

‘Y’know, I’m still not sure… but I certainly needed it.’ He answered shamelessly. There wasn’t really a filter between them at this point—they’d seen their students do more horrifying things over the years.

The Head soon began with the usual topics—reminding the faculty about the HQA information session that was coming up in a few weeks—before he eventually brought up the giant elephant in the room.

‘I can practically hear you all vibrating with excitement, even without my quirk, so no point delaying. As you’re aware, today is sports day!' He paused while the students cheered. 'This year, however, we’ve put a special twist on it…’

Usually, grades were kept separate—the two classes competing against each other—but this time, there would be four distinct teams: Lemillion, consisting of classes 2B, 3A and 4B; Dynamite, including classes 2A, 3B and 4B; Shoto, of which Fuyumi’s class, 1B, was a part of, as well as 5B and 6A; and All Might, encompassing the final three classes—Izuku had been fierce in his demand to be put on the latter team. So, while each grade would still go around each activity together as a whole, the allotted points they’d accumulate went to their designated teams.

That meant that Hiru and his antagonists had to rely on each other to win, and the prize was a trophy for each winning class.

The formal reason behind the team set-up was to encourage the different grades to support each other and build a rapport. Hopefully, it might also allow certain individuals to reflect on their differences.

Hopefully.

‘Now that you all have your teams, it’s time for the schedule.’ The Head brought up the next powerpoint side, showing a table. ‘Some of you will notice that your homeroom teacher is running an activity. That is why each grade will walk around together. So, for example, grade one will follow Todoroki-sensei, while Midoriya-sensei runs the obstacle course. Make sense?'

A sea of heads immediately bobbed up and down.

The Head smiled. 'Great! Now, your teacher will also have a copy of the schedule, so there's no need to memorise it…'

There were a few more minutes of technicalities—a few kids clearly becoming impatient—before everyone was finally released. While Fuyumi gathered their students together, Izuku quickly made his way back out to the field, along with a few other teachers. Some parents were already congregating around the activities, eager to support their kids. He smiled in greeting and exchanged pleasantries with a few, but otherwise remained silent as he waited.

He rocked back and forth on his feet, imagining all the different outcomes of the day. Hiru was the fastest runner in his grade—probably the older ones too—due to his quirk. That was why they’d deliberately scheduled the whole school for the relay race at the end of the day. That way, they could set it up so each team could cheer each other on for the final event.

His thoughts were interrupted before he could truly get lost in them, as a flock of children suddenly swarmed the field.

There were five other events, not including the obstacle course and relay. Tug of war was fairly self-explanatory, as was dance; along with the bean bag toss—throw as many beanbags into your team’s basket as possible before the time runs out—and the cavalry battle. Admittedly though, the latter wouldn’t be as impressive as UA’s infamous cavalry battle due to the lack of quirk usage.

The event that was often the most confusing for foreign students was oodama, but that was just because of the name, which was just “giant ball”. Essentially, each team had to carry a giant inflatable ball together to the goal point; if they dropped it, they’d have to start again. Izuku really hoped Hiru had brought along his personalised cover for his quills, otherwise they might have some issues with that one.

‘Namaste, Midoriya-sensei!’

He smiled as the sixth graders surrounded him, all bowing simultaneously. They were the year below his previous homeroom class—when he’d had India for global month—so naturally, they’d all joined in during the legendary “Namaste phase” and made sure not to let it die out entirely.

Indulging them, he put his palms together and bowed.

‘Namaste, bachche! How're you all doing?'

He snorted when they immediately began speaking over each other—clearly excited—and waited until they’d all calmed down before taking them through the usual rules. There would be six races, with roughly ten students per race. Then, the winner of each race would enter the final, and points would be assigned based on their placement.

It wasn’t too difficult considering the sixth graders had already done the course before—with just a few minor changes—but once they’d moved on, his next group was the first graders.

‘Hey, Sensei!’ His students greeted excitedly. ‘We just did our dance routine!’

‘Did you?’ He gasped. ‘How did it go?’

‘It went really well!’ Hana jumped up and down. ‘Our parents all watched as well, which was super fun! Okaasan took pictures!’

‘We didn’t win though.’ Haku pouted, crossing his arms as class B joined them.

‘It was really close!’ Fuyumi tried to placate. ‘You were all really good! Like professional dancers!’

‘Like Pinky?’ Izuku offered, knowing his students would appreciate the comparison. When Fuyumi quickly agreed, they brightened up significantly, and he explained the rules.

It ended up being a close one, but after the first set of races, the finalists were decided: four from class B and two from A. Luckily though, Hiru and Touta managed to bag the top two spots, bringing the scores to a tie as they went off to the next activity. Izuku waved farewell as he quickly prepared everything for the second graders.

By the time lunch came around and the scores were tallied, team All Might were in joint second with Dynamight, while team Shoto was in the lead. It was pretty close, which was to be expected—especially to build suspense and competition—but it still made Izuku nervous.

His leg was twitching.

'Stop overthinking.' Fuyumi nudged him from where they were sitting: a picnic bench in the playground, as the children played around them. 'We've set everything in motion, it's up to the kids now.'

'I know.' He sighed, exasperated. 'But I'm a worrier!'

'And I'm not?' She scoffed with a laugh. 'Come on. There's nothing else you can do for now.'

'Only because I haven't thought of something yet.' He argued weakly.

Maybe there was some way he could figure out a plan to have the different grades work together, or set up an ethical way to jeopardise-

‘Nope. Not going there.' Fuyumi interjected, before slurping up more noodles. He must've been staring at his bento for too long and mumbling out loud. 'Tell you what, I'll change the subject. How was your weekend?’

Not even subtle… but Izuku chose to take the bait. Worrying made his stomach hurt.

‘Pretty uneventful…’ He shrugged, using his chopsticks to move his food around. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't quite keep the smile from his face as his mind recalled a certain hero. ‘Y’know, other than the obvious. You?’

‘Yeah, I was pretty much the same.’ She laughed halfheartedly. 'You really must be nervous for Hiru, considering you haven't even brought up Shoto until now, and that was with some prompting.'

'I've just not had the time to properly gush about it.' He placed a hand over his chest, then eyed his friend cautiously. 'Plus, I wanted to check first: how're you feeling about it?'

She flashed him a grateful smile, then shook her head affectionately.

'It's… I'm feeling hopeful, I think.' She pursed her lips, pondering. ‘It was just… surprising, to say the least. As you know, we were all concerned about him the past week, but then, before he went to work yesterday, he told us to keep an eye on the news and promised that it was nothing bad…' Her tone turned sarcastic. 'That didn't worry us at all.’

‘Of course.’

‘So we kept the tv on during dinner, then all of a sudden, okaasan called my name, and I rushed in, and on the screen was Shoto using his fire to catch a villain, like some kind of fever dream!’

She hesitated then; Izuku tilted his head to the side.

‘Was that good or bad?’

‘Oh, definitely good!’ She was quick to clarify, then looked down at her noodles in thought. ‘We just… never expected it. Shoto had always been so against using it in combat. Something must’ve happened.’

She paused and slowly looked up to meet Izuku’s eyes. ‘Hang on.’

He chuckled nervously.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘You never said what your argument was about when you hung out at the house, just that you disagreed on something. Come on, spill.’

As she looked at him expectantly, Izuku tapped his index fingers together and bounced his legs under the table.

‘He kinda… told me about why he didn’t use his fire, so I kinda… to sum it up, basically called him immature and explained why he was being dumb.’

‘Izuku!’

‘I know, it was stupid, I don’t know what I was doing. I guess I was just…’ He faltered. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. 'I was just…'

‘Being your usual self.’ Fuyumi eventually finished for him, causing him to look at her quizzically. ‘He’s needed telling for years, but he’s stubborn and all of us were afraid of the consequences. Our family’s been through so much, we didn’t want to risk breaking it again.’

She sighed. ‘After everything that happened, I think he’d resigned himself to not using his left side… because otherwise he’d have to admit to not “giving it his all” against Touya. He didn't "try hard enough" to save him, if that makes sense?’

‘I didn’t think about that.’ Izuku murmured, guilt immediately washing over him as he slapped his forehead. ‘Of course he feels responsible for what happened, and I was so insensitive.’

He groaned, twitching as he recalled the argument. He made several more little noises of annoyance and shook his head. Fuck, it’s a wonder he doesn’t hate me…

Fuyumi regarded him carefully, chewing the inside of her cheek. She was used to his stimming by now, so didn't mention it, which he was thankful for.

‘I don’t know what you said specifically.’ She began slowly. ‘But whatever it was… it worked, so don’t beat yourself up too much like I know you’re currently doing.’

‘You know me too well.’ Izuku snorted. 'Gahhh, I just… he looked so sad and angry.'

‘He’s been sad and angry for a while, but he used to be worse.’ She conceded, but her tone wasn't accusatory. ‘Therapy has done most of the work to get him where he is today, but he’s always been so adamant about his fire… until now. You don’t need to feel bad for telling him what he needed to hear, promise.’

Izuku tightened his lips and searched her expression.

‘Are you really sure?’

She snorted.

‘If Shoto hated you, you’d know it by now.’ She told him simply. ‘Has he messaged you today?’

Izuku paused.

‘Well, yeah... He wanted to wish me luck.’

‘See?’

‘All right, all right, fine.’ Izuku smiled despite himself, as he took his phone out of his pocket. ‘It was really thoughtful-’

He paused when he realised Shoto had actually messaged him a few minutes ago.

‘Yeah, he fretted over the wording for ten minutes this morning.’ Fuyumi divulged—Izuku doubted her brother wanted him to know that little bit of information—before taking a sip from her drink. ‘So you’ve got nothing to worry about… and I know that smile, you’re looking at his messages, aren’t you?’

‘Hush.’ He stuck his tongue out, but before he could unlock his phone, one of his students suddenly appeared at his side. ‘Oh, hello, Nagisa-chan.’

‘Hi.’ She swung her arms out. ‘What happens when you die?’

Fuyumi choked on her drink, while Izuku just took a moment to process the question.

‘Erm… me specifically, or just people?’ Despite asking for clarification, the answer would remain the same: he didn’t have a clue.

‘Well, is it different for you?’ She tilted her head to the side.

Point taken.

‘I’ll be honest, Nagisa-chan, I’m not sure.’ He admitted. ‘That’s the thing about dying… you can’t really come back and let everyone know what happens.’

‘What about people who die and then they come back to life with the electric oven gloves.’

Izuku’s left eye twitched.

‘You mean a defibrillator?’ He asked, slowly.

‘I like my name better.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Fuyumi chipped in.

Izuku hoped the name comment would distract her from the question, but alas, Nagisa continued to stare at him expectantly.

‘Er… well, I guess if they’re brought back to life, they couldn’t have been truly dead?’

‘Even Jesus?’

‘Do you… believe in Jesus?’

‘Not really.’ She sighed, looking over at where some students were playing hopscotch. ‘So what DOES happen when you die?’

Izuku bit his lip to prevent any muttering—he could go to various lengths about different religions and their beliefs, along with potential theories—but figured no one would appreciate that.

‘What do you think happens?’ He asked instead.

‘Hmmm.’ She placed a contemplative hand on her chin. ‘Probably… if you’re a good person, you turn into a dog or maybe a butterfly, but if you’re bad, you turn into… a wasp.’

‘A wasp?’

‘Yeah. No one likes wasps.’

‘What about good people who don’t like dogs?’ Fuyumi asked.

‘I guess… then maybe you turn into your favourite animal if you’re good.’ She twirled some of her hair around her finger. ‘And if you’re bad, you turn into something you don’t like.’

‘I can get behind that.’ Izuku agreed, then finally asked what had been on his mind since the start of the interaction. ‘What made you ask the question?’

‘My goldfish died last night.’ Nagisa pouted. ‘Okaasan flushed Floella down the toilet.’

‘That’s sad.’ Izuku frowned.

‘Yes, very.’ She put the hair she was playing with in her mouth and started chewing. ‘Anyway, see you later, sensei.’

Before he could say anything else, she sprinted off to join those playing hopscotch.

‘That was lovely.’ Fuyumi commented, as the two of them watched her go.

‘I think I have whiplash.’ Izuku deadpanned, before finally looking at his phone.

Shoto-kun 🙏 [1239]: Hope it’s going well

Me [1250]: So far so good! How’s work?

Shoto-kun 🙏 [1251]: On my lunch now, so can’t complain

‘Mei-chan, don’t you dare put that worm in your mouth!’ Fuyumi suddenly shouted, before bolting off towards the aforementioned student. ‘It’s every other day with this girl.’

Izuku snorted, then scanned the playground. The rest of the children seemed to be enjoying themselves, whilst most parents chatted with each other around the many picnic benches; some families stayed together, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Me [1253]: Same… 7 more minutes left tho

Shoto-kun 🙏 [1254]: That’s rough buddy

Shoto-kun 🙏 [1254]: What time do you get off?

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows.

‘Have you finished your lunch?’ Fuyumi was suddenly at his side, a little out of breath. When he nodded, she scooped up his container. ‘No problem, I’ll pop these back in the staffroom while you chat up my brother.’

‘I am not-’ He faltered when she quickly sped away out of earshot, then grumbled as he turned back to his phone. ‘I wish.’

Me [1255]: The school day finishes at 3 15 but I won’t be leaving till half past. Why?

He tapped the edge of his phone as he waited for a reply, periodically monitoring the students.

Shoto-kun 🙏 [1257]: Just wondering for when Fuyumi comes home

Izuku tried not to feel disappointed with the answer.

Me [1258]: Fair enough. Anyway, I gotta start rounding up the kids. Speak to you soon!

He quickly put his phone in his pocket and got to his feet.

Once everyone was organised and lunch was officially over, Izuku left the first graders with Fuyumi and jogged back over to the obstacle course, anticipating the fourth graders. In truth, he handled them relatively easily. They were especially boisterous, but the rowdiness didn't manifest into disobedience, and the parents watching from the sidelines cheered them on in good sport.

It wasn't until they left and grade five appeared that Izuku felt anxiety return. He tried not to let it show as he explained the rules to the students, who seemed particularly riled up, as teams All Might and Shoto were currently tying for first place.

'Ugh, I hope those annoying first graders don't ruin it for us!' One rolled his eyes, while his friend groaned with frustration.

'I bet they do! They're so useless!' Hiru hadn't provided him with names, but Izuku knew enough to suspect who the bullies were. 'Especially that mutant porcupine-'

'Have you got something you want to share with everyone?' Izuku interrupted, stern. When the rest of the grade turned to share at the duo, embarrassment flooded their cheeks and they shook their heads. Izuku tried not to pay attention to the way some parents turned to whisper to one another and even point at him. 'Well then, I hope you were discussing the rules, because it’s time to split into teams.'

His smile returned as he continued on with the event. However, his eyes did occasionally scan certain individuals for longer than he usually would.

'Is that him?' He'd hear some of the adults whisper. 'The Quirkless one?'

He'd heard similar questions and hushed comments throughout the day—not all malicious, mainly curious—but right now, Izuku was struggling to ignore them. Maybe it was because there were parents among them who were overtly and dangerously quirkist. Realistically, he knew that he was safe and that he was doing his job to the best of his ability, but he still felt like he was under the spotlight; if he fucked anything up in front of them, then he was setting a bad example for his fellow HQ community.

Luckily, whispers aside, the remaining forty five minutes passed without any incidents, and Izuku exhaled with relief once he was left to pack everything away while the students and parents made their way to the athletics track. It was only a brief interlude—it was easier putting everything away compared to setting it all up this morning—but he welcomed it all the same. It gave him a chance to briefly recharge and gather his bearings.

Once everything was sorted, he—along with a few other teachers who had also been on clean-up duty—jogged over to join the rest of the school. It was loud, many voices cheering and whooping. From the look and sound of it, the third graders were competing, which meant that there were only two more races left.

He hadn't missed the final then.

Izuku spotted the first graders sitting together with Fuyumi, and smiled as he strode over

'How's it going?' He nudged her gently and joined her on the grass, leaning back on his ankles. He tried not to alert the students of his presence so they could enjoy the race. 'Miss anything?'

'Your initial predictions were right, as usual.' She crossed her arms and nodded towards the blackboard by the finish line. 'If team Lemillion win, which looks like it's about to happen, then no matter how team Dynamight do in the grade two race, they still won't be higher than third. That puts our kids competing for the overall first place in the final round.'

'Seriously?' His eyes widened. 'I never expected it to go that smoothly, especially considering I don't know the other grades as well as ours.'

'Yeah, but I distinctly remember walking into your classroom after school to snap you out of your three hour strategizing session because housekeeping was about to kick you out.' Fuyumi shrugged. 'Once you get fixated on something, that's it, so I was pretty confident with what you'd come up with... even if it requires me having to console my poor students after their inevitable defeat.'

'Look, it's not my fault the fastest first grader is in my class.' Izuku grinned when Fuyumi mock sneered at him. 'I just hope it's worth it.'

His friend hummed, but didn't comment further, as the race came to an end. As expected, team Lemillion won—which meant both teams were out of the running for first—but that didn't prevent the second graders from giving it their absolute all in their race for third place. While that was going on though, Izuku tapped his class's four candidates on the shoulder.

'Hey, sensei!' Hana and Tomoyo both exclaimed, while Hiru waved.

'Are you here to escort us to the start line?' Touta asked, straight to the point.

'You bet I am!' He smiled, gesturing for them to get up. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fuyumi do the same with her students. 'Are you ready?'

'Yes!' They jumped up.

'Do your best!' Haku called out, prompting the rest of the class to shout their good luck.

'I believe in you!' Nozomi pumped her fist. 'Show them what you're made of, Hiru!'

'Gotta go fast!' The aforementioned giggled, as they made their way around the course.

Instead of the typical 400m relay, they had painted a track half the size; therefore, to run a full lap, each student participating would run 50m. It was the ideal size, as it meant everyone had enough space to spectate, including the parents.

By the time they made it to the starting line, the penultimate race concluded, as teams Dynamight and Lemillion shouted accordingly—the cheers outweighing the groans of the losing team. Izuku wasn't quite sure who had won, until he heard Tomoyo inform Touta that Lemiilion had made a last minute comeback and had beat Dynamight by one point.

'Alright, everyone!' The Head announced through a loudspeaker; Izuku winced at the volume. 'Has everyone enjoyed today?' He paused as the field filled with whoops and excited "yeah"s, before continuing. 'It's time for our final race of the day and the battle for first place! Show some support for the first graders!'

Amongst the noise, the students got into position and the first runners were given their baton.

'I was telling the others about how you can start running before your partner gets to you.' Touta informed Izuku. 'That way, there's no stopping, which could slow the race down, but I also told them not to start running too early. Don't worry, we practised yesterday during playtime!'

'Is that so?' Izuku nodded in understanding. 'How did that go?'

'Very well! I'm confident we'll win!' Touta nodded firmly, before getting on the ground into the proper position, unlike the other student, who was just standing normally and side-eyeing him.

Izuku quickly stepped to the side and gave a thumbs up. Anticipation set in as the Head counted them down, and suddenly they were running. Touta—ever idolising Ingenium—had an intense look of concentration as he hand chopped with each stride; somehow not losing the baton.

True to his word, Tomoyo started running as he came closer—not too fast and with her arm stuck out ready—and the transition was fairly smooth. Despite Touta's start, the race was still neck and neck; the class B girl running against Tomoyo was very fast—Izuku could feel Fuyumi’s smirk from here—so they quickly took the lead. His heart almost burst as Tomoyo’s face went red in her attempt to frantically catch up, but it was no use.

It wasn’t over yet though. Once the baton went to Hana, they were able to make back some of the gap. By this point, everyone was cheering and shouting—Izuku included, whilst trying not to let the desperation show in his voice—hoping for victory. Hana did well to pick up their pace, and once Hiru started running, nothing could stop him; he easily overtook his opponent and sprinted towards the finish line. His quills shook where his sports shirt had been modified, his nose bounced with each step, but his face was determined, focusing only on one goal.

Izuku looked around him, searching everyone else’s expressions. Most were watching with amazement, others with delight, whilst those on team Shoto were clutching their heads in anguish. When his eyes scanned over the fifth graders from earlier, he was glad to see them staring at Hiru with wide eyes; their mouths agape with shock. That was progress, at least, and when Hiru crossed the finish line—an easy victory—they punched their fists in the air and cheered with everyone else.

Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and turned back to Hiru—who was being crowded by the rest of class A—and joined them in their congratulations, making sure to commend the other runners as well. The background noise all mingled into one, so once he'd said his piece, Izuku made his way back to Fuyumi, a smile on his face…

Until he passed the adults.

'To let a mutant participate in this event is ridiculous.' He overheard one of the parents complain. 'They clearly have an unfair advantage.'

‘Exactly! That’s what I’ve been saying for the past three years!’ Another chimed in. 'They should have their own category or something, especially when the normal kids aren't allowed to use their quirks.'

Izuku's jaw tightened and he turned.

'Excuse my intrusion.' His heart pounded against his chest. What was he doing? 'But I hardly think a children's sports day warrants any extra categories based purely on physical attributes—we don’t split the beanbag toss up depending on height, after all. Plus, one member of class B's relay team also had a heteromorph quirk, so I don't think there was any "unfair" advantage.'

'Of course you would think that.' The first parent rolled her eyes. 'Everyone has an advantage over someone quirkless, so it's all the same to you.'

Wow, no hesitation there.

That stung, but Izuku wasn't about to submit.

'I have a joint-honours degree in both teaching and quirk studies, with a postgraduate specialisation in the development of quirks.' He replied, easily. 'So I don't think you can just write me off as not knowing what I'm talking about simply because I'm quirkless, which is a prejudiced argument if I've ever heard one.'

'Well if you're so smart, then you should know about how these genetic mutations are illnesses-'

'Illnesses?' He couldn't help but scoff. 'Do you believe everything Speak Out tell you? Do you know the studies they cite are super dodgy and often anecdotal?'

'That's because the scientists doing peer reviews are politically motivated.'

'No, it's because the studies' methods are shi- rubbish, and the word "illness" is thrown around too liberally.' Izuku remained steadfast. Luckily, they hadn't attracted a crowd yet, but he could tell some of the other parents were looking at them. 'Anyone with critical thinking knows that.'

'Are you saying I have no critical thinking?'

'Well, if the shoe f-'

'Midoriya-sensei.' Fuyumi suddenly appeared at his side, her smile placating. 'Why don't you let me take over? Kimura-san and Shimizu-san’s children are in my class. I'll meet you in the staffroom.'

She looked at him deliberately, but Izuku didn't retreat straight away. He held her gaze for a few seconds first, clearly not happy about the situation.

'Alright.'

Casting the parents one final glance, he took his leave. As he made his way through the crowd though, he clenched his fists tightly and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent any angry muttering.

It's always one step forward, two fucking steps back.

***

'So, you told me to ask again in eight hours.' Fuyumi said as they walked out of the school building. 'How're you doing?'

Izuku sighed, kicking a small stone.

'At least the kids are acting in a friendly way.' He tried to focus on the positives. 'Those fifth graders even called Hiru cool.'

'Yes… But that's not what's on your mind.' Fuyumi stated pointedly. 'It's that conversation with the parents that would’ve escalated if I hadn’t intervened.'

Izuku chuckled humorlessly, still staring at the ground.

'You got me.' He conceded, spreading his palms in surrender. 'It was just so frustrating.'

'I know.' Fuyumi waved at the school caretaker over by the bins, prompting Izuku to also wave politely. 'I wasn't able to talk much sense into them after you left, I'll be honest, but I pointed them to the information session we'll be hosting—they said they'll be there.'

'Yay.'

'You stop that now.' She swatted him without any real malice. 'You were the one who…'

Izuku turned to look at her when she trailed off, only to find her staring at the school gate, mouth agape. Confused, he followed her gaze and baulked when he saw red and white hair.

'Shoto-kun?'

The aforementioned was leant against the wall, still in his hero costume, and scrolling through his phone. When he noticed them approaching, however, he pocketed the device and nodded in greeting.

'What a lovely surprise.' Fuyumi sounded almost amused. 'What brings you to this side of the world?'

'Midoriya told me what time you'd both be finishing, so I thought I'd walk home with you.' Shoto answered easily, like this was perfectly normal behaviour. 'I figured if he was going to scream at me, may as well do it in front of an audience.'

'Scream?' Izuku took a moment to process what he meant. 'Ooooh, the texts. I said I'd scream at him next time I saw him because he used his fire… Good screaming.'

'I was beginning to worry.' Fuyumi snorted. 'Good idea. Izuku could definitely do to let off some steam with a distraction.'

Shoto's expression immediately shifted into concern.

'That bad?'

Izuku sighed.

'I'll tell you about it later, but for now…' He paused for dramatic effect. 'Tell me everything about your fire!'

By the time they parted ways—the Todorokis turning left at the crossroads and Izuku going straight on—he couldn't deny he was definitely in a better mood than he had been an hour ago.

#midoriya sensei au #tododeku #todoroki shoto #midoriya izuku #todoizu #todomido #dekutodo #izushou #teacher au #teacher midoriya izuku #teacher todoroki fuyumi #quirkless midoriya izuku #quirkless discrimination #todoroki fuyumi #platonic fuyumizu

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whatdoesshedotothem · 1 year

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Tuesday 1 January 1839

8 ¾

12 ¼

boisterous windy damp morning F41 ½° inside and 45° outside study window – breakfast at 9 ¾ in about ½ hour – then out – about – the horse Captain better – had a bran mash – it was after 11 before he had the 8oz. Epsom salts I ordered him – George quite satisfied with his own knowledge of the case which he pronounced to be inflammation of the mucous membrane of the stomach – the fact is, the horse had got a chill and consequent indigestion – had the box in the old farm stable cleared out, and had the horse comfortably bedded up there as soon as he had taken his solution of salts – the poor animal would gladly have had something to eat but must now be contented with bran mashes till after the operation of his physic – with A- a minute or 2 and came upstairs at 12 ¼ - the blood taken from the horse last night looked very well – bucket and all weighed 26lbs. of which blood 16lbs. and measured 13 pints – wrote the above of today – sat reading White vol. 1 farriery – inflammation – had Holt before 1 about the fireman – the engine to be ready for starting next week – spoke to Holt about shifting the scale from the engine pit at Pearsons’ – I thought 2d. a load enough for filling – 3 carts to carry off 36 yards cube per day to the meer – and 2 fillers at 2d. per yard would earn 3/. a day each – went out at 2 ¼ - in the stables and about – then along the old road to Sun wood quarry – nobody there – very high wind – could scarce stand in returning met Thomas Pearson at L.E. Pit – stood talking sometime about my hay etc. – he wanted to settle with me about the cows he had pastured here – no! settle with SW. – his (SW-‘s) affair and I had rather he settled all he had the ordering of – then to John Oates – 50 minutes with him – Holt said the engine would be ready for starting next week – JO. said it would be the end of the month 1st – said both to him and Thomas P- I thought I should not be at the rent day tomorrow – Thomas P- told me the Manns had taken Mr. Freemans’ colliery at Liversedge – coal at £150 per acre – no money to lay out – yes! said JO. but it is John Mann who has taken it – perhaps Joseph may be in partnership with him but not Robert – bound to get 2 acres a year – home at 4 – sometime in the kitchen court looking about – then dressed – had A- with me – at 5 20 wrote 2 1/3pp. to M- and the last 13 lines till 5 50 – ‘Shibden hall – 1 January 1839 – my dearest Mary – the gardener brings word that you had set off to York the morning he arrived at Lawton – I hope your journey was one of pleasure, and I shall be glad to hear that you yourself are well, and that you found all your friends so – I am sure you will spend all the time you can with us, on your return – and that you will find no fault with your welcome – two joiners have been at work in the house since you were here last; but I fear you will

SH:7/ML/E/22/0091

hardly be able to discover what they have done – we cannot make you more comfortable in point of accommodation than before – but you will not think of this – we ourselves are even less comfortable, being without maid; and even one footman we owe, and lately too, to the kindness of Mrs. Duffin who has really done us a great service – how is poor Watson? what becomes of you without her? the gardener took the little parcel; but, as you will see from the short note that accompanies it, the remembrance seemed less happy than better fortune might have made it – you will come if you can – my love and Miss Walkers’ kind regards to all immediately around you, and to our good friends in Micklegate and those who never write in Petergate – affectionately yours AL’ – sent off my letter to ‘Mrs. Lawton Dr. Belcombes’, Minster-court, York’ dinner at 6 ¼ - A- crying afterwards as yesterday and .:. I asleep but she was not wrong coffee at 8 – read the newspaper – A- read 2pp. French and I looked over her – came upstairs at 10 55 when I put the clock forwards ¼ hour – very high wind all the day – and high and boisterous tonight F43° outside and 43 ½° inside study window now at 11 3/4pm according to the clock put forward – Letter tonight from Mr. R. Walker 2 Jones street Berkley square London – for 1 years morning Herald London newspaper = £7.3.0 + 11d. postage of letter - .:. I will not pay the postage of my next letter

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miss-mishka · 3 days

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I have an ex that I tried to cut from my life in 2016. Could no longer handle their issues when they stopped taking their meds, tried to reason with them & get them to get help, but they never did so I cut ties for my mental & financial health since I was suckered for years into doing/buying things for them that cost me without any repayment. Over 7 years, I have blocked them & legit ghosted like a pro even tho we live in a smallish community where people know and/or related to us. I have been ice cold on the topic of her & all who know me know that is a bridge I will not go back over or discuss.

She, tho, kept trying to get around my blocks, leaves notes & gifts periodically on my porch or at my front door, tries to get my family to get me to talk to her & has used her famil connections to try & get in touch with me, even using local police to call in "welfare checks" on me a few times before I made clear that I would not tolerate such interference again unless it was MY family or employer calling in a check because they could not contact me. She's never been a threat, in my opinion, just a nuisance.

Today, tho.

Today.

My parents, who are known in our community to have moved in with me as my single story home is better for them after having suffered back injuries, today my parents found a little battery box wedged in the screen door with a note on it not to throw, note inside. The note was to tell me that, 7 years after I have had anything to do with her, she had dumped her cat Fluffy at a property connected to my family in the town I used to live in. Fluffy is a gorgeous calico that I loved of hers that she found as a kitten 12 years ago & has, to my knowledge, kept as a housecat since then. She did not say she left them Fluffy at my grandad's old house, where I lived all but the last year of my relationship with her when I took my lifetime savings & bought a home of my own. She didn't say it was my parents or either of my brothers or my aunt's place, just that she had made a choice, asked God to forgive her as a pet mom & I might be seeing Fluffy around "my place" in Cacapon (hometown, over a mountain & literally 8 minutes by car from where I live now.) I work weekends. Everyone, including her, knows that as I have had the same job & schedule for 15 years now. So she brings chaos to my door while I am trying to do the teleworking I need to & I'm just thankful I work from, but I still have 3 hours left in my shift. And I am freaking out that a poor, innocent housecat has suddenly been unleashed in the wild in a place it has never been. So my parents start making calls & have left to go look for the cat. My aunt, who lives next door to & is caretaker for my now deceased grandad's home is checking there, but says this is just a ploy to get back into my life. She(ex) knows that I will never abandon an animal in need. (Sorry, but people have to fend for themselves at some point & that is why she us & must stay my ex.) She knows, especially, that I would not want any harm to come to Fluffy so I 100% would have taken the cat, if asked. Why ask me, tho? She has friends, co-workers & family that I absolutely know would have also taken Fluffy if something came up that required rehoming the cat. Instead of doing that or just leaving Fluffy on MY property here, she says she has left the cat loose in the next town over on some property connected to me where I may now begin seeing Fluffy??? Also gives me $16 & says she'll give my mom cat food at some point in the future for the caring for Fluffy. The number of times I have just ranted & yelled WTF in the last hour has my cats legit stressed & trying to comfort me because they're not used to me being upset, angry or stressed like this. I have removed & blocked all of my ex's contact info along with her parents & cousin who I had the most contact with while we were together so I cannot call anyone up & ask WTF is happening right now. I know where everyone lives, but again, 3 hours before I can even think of going anywhere & time, imo, is of the essence to get Fluffy back indoors even if she doesn't know my house or cats.

I am absolutely taking Fluffy in & keeping the "God forgive me" note as proof that my ex gave the cat up in case she tries to get Fluffy back later or use the cat as a way into my life or home, but what if my aunt is right & Fluffy isn't even in danger???? I'm stressing because I ran into my ex's cousin yesterday at the courthouse where we both happened to be early voting in the primaries. We exchanged rushed, generic, "Nice to see you, how you been, we should hang out sometime" conversation before the very patient county clerk asked me to follow her to get my vote cast as the ex's cousin was all done & leaving. I honestly thought nothing of it except that maybe I should spend time with the cousin again because she was a good friend & she & my ex weren't always on good terms. But family is family around here & I have to believe now that the cousin told my ex that I have been spotted in the wild & the very next day my ex does this????

Do I do everything I can to make sure Fluffy is ok, including going to see my ex or is this just her finally finding a way to get me out that she knew I could not ignore? Because I cannot take the risk that a housecat that old is just suddenly dumped out into a place she is not likely to survive without help. Depending on where she was left, she could be near the main road & struck by traffic, in town with an a*hole neighbor on the street that poisons & shoots stray cats or out in the boonies where a cat could be eaten by wild animals. WTF was my ex thinking & why has she done this. It's been OVER SEVEN YEARS. My last words to her were literally "Consider me dead." Not because I was going to harm myself, but I knew I was done & out of her life & she needed to accept that with a finality as if I were no longer here. For all I know, in all that time, Fluffy might have passed. I know I just lost my dog, Brando, in October after 10 days shy of 17 years. This could be a trap. She has to know this will not have a positive effect, but it might make sense to her if she's off her meds. Should I call in my own welfare check to have an officer go to see if she's ok & ask about Fluffy or don't do that when I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of those checks? Do I send my parents to talk to her or should I go visit her parents to try & see what is going on?

This is what she has always done to me. Tangle me in knots, throw chaos into my life & get me to do what I can to appease her & solve whatever problem she is bringing to me.

I think my mistake was telling her cousin yesterday that I'm happy. I did not go into any other detail. When she asked me how I was, my answer was I'm happy & did my ex hear that & decide it's unacceptable for me to be happy without her in my life?

#personal #tw: toxic relationship #venting #but also seeking advice

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tiredsalaryman · 6 months

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11/24 (Fri) TS blog #3

Good morning. 🌨

This is Tired Salaryman Tim. 🏂

The weather where I live is unpredictable sometimes. I wasn't expecting it to start snowing on the way out of work, so I'm glad I dressed warmly.

Today's ranking: 3

Work was a hassle due to the new layout of my workstation. I don't understand why they decided to relocate Quality Assurance to my area, but it's made moving around extremely difficult. 😓

There is this girl I've been paired with at work lately. Her daytime job is a Correction Facility officer. I have some respect for her since she is usually pleasant when talking to me. But if conversation is not directed at me, she is loud. So loud. I don't mind this usually, but the way she talks makes me feel like I'm hearing my 12 yr old nephew. Not only that, but my annoying coworker Grumpy J gets along with her, and usually they're making a riot right next to me where they complain about work and why the managers don't seem to have good ideas. I don't get off on hearing my own voice, but I understand where they're coming from. I wish they'd just be a little less crass about it. 😮‍💨

Also, I'd like to defend that our managers are doing the best they can, and while good ideas aren't implemented right away, they do take suggestions seriously, and things are done about it. 🙆‍♂️

Moving on. I tried making conversation with this girl mentioned. Let's call her M. I've known about her for a while because when she first started working here about two months ago, my roommate T had a crush on her and would tell me what he found out from their conversations. We found out that she loves fairies and that yes, she has a boyfriend. RIP T. 🥀

Using this knowledge, I asked her what kind of fairies she favored. As an artist, writer, and DND player, I've ended up knowing a fair bit on the subject. She responded, "Oh, I don't really have one I like in particular. I like them all."

Usually, when people tell me they love something, they go into depth about it. This one made no mention of light, dark, kitchen, woodland, not even a Pokémon. The conversation died for an hour because I wasn't up for it anymore. I later suggested she play Fae Farm (Switch) since that seemed to be up her ally. She was enthusiastic when I mentioned it being similar to Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing combined. I also found out from that conversation that she was a Minecraft lover. Mm.

Let's see. Girls... One of my managers, S, is usually the one overseeing my area. We have a good relationship. I'm giving her my $700 espresso machine because I need space in my kitchen, and because she likes espresso as well. ☕️

Another coworker called J, but an elder lady, she came up to me to ask if I was the one who was injured awhile back. I don't know why they asked all of a sudden, but I said yes, I had a metal bedframe get dropped on my foot, as well as a fire hydrant on the same foot two weeks later. Clearly, my left foot is an EMT magnet. I don't know how I still have all my limbs after all the work injuries I've fucked myself up with. God must love me. 🙃

An older coworker, transporter, he always asks if I brought my helmet to work. He's referring to my bike helmet because I used to bike to work. I always say no because I get car rides now from T. I've been considering the merit of bringing my helmet to work lately, but I know that's not allowed. No personal helmets are allowed. I just have to gear up on knee pads and be careful when I use my head to leverage stuff above me. Not OSHA approved. 🪖

After my shift, I met up with my favorite girl, C. She's become my fondest friend IRL, and it brightens up my day whenever I see her. Because PDA at work isn't allowed and we don't like fist bumps or waving hello, we have a special dance we do when we greet each other. Everyone who sees this is befuddled, bewildered, bedazzled. 🤨

On the way to deposit my gadgets, I encounter one of the lovely new admins, S. I met her last week and I always have a compliment ready for her beautiful smile. Whenever she does that thing with her face, her whole aura glows. I feel like a snake sunbathing on a warm rock when she gives me her full attention. I'm going to try making more conversation as the days go by. We usually only have a short window of time since I don't stay in the office long to chat. 💙

The last girl worthy of mention is G. We're from the same "ethnicity" and she usually speaks to me in our native language because she finally has someone who understands her. I respect her very much. She is very strong. 🏋‍♀️

The day isn't over yet. The break room was giving out free hotdogs and burgers, and the managers grilled it themselves. Now, if that's not love. Last week, our branch manager made macaroni and cheese for everyone, but only me and C got special dilled pickles he made himself. Why the special treatment? Because we love pickles and it was by special request. I am being completely honest when I say those were the best pickles I've had in my life. They were so spicy... 🥰

Anyway, even after all that. I was still craving. I had been thinking about croissants ever since I woke up. Roommate T is also my coworker. We drove to Starbucks to get our cravings.

T: Vanilla Chai Latte

Me: Pan au chocolat, oatmeal with every topping, and a peppermint mocha latte.

I usually never go for seasonal treats because I prefer drinking just pure espresso, but I've been spoiled ever since I moved here. Peppermint and chocolate in a drink is a delight I never knew I would appreciate.

Today, the drive-thru window voice was very perky. It pleased me to hear such a pleasant tone. Lately, I have been more vocal about complimenting random strangers but especially retail service workers. When we met him at the window, I said that he brightened up my morning after a long night shift. Then he gave me TWO peppermint mochas. One hot and one cold. I love people. 🤩

Guess what? This journal isn't over yet. More things. My former pen pal and now regular online friend D mentioned that they would like to receive the Huion tablet I wanted to give them. Finally, it will be put to use by someone who will use it more than just a small 4k gaming monitor. I haven't been drawing lately because of all my moving and former roommate drama and since I downsized to an even smaller tablet and have a proper laptop now, I have no need for big appliances anymore.

Last fortune things. I will assume the navy was my pants? And I don't know why it mentioned my house plants but I'll be sure to water Cash and Money later. Cash and Money were these plants that were gifted to me awhile ago by another online friend.

Cash: Chinese Money Plant (Pilea Peperomioides)

Money: Green Princess (Philondendron)

TS Radio random song of the day:

I'm not in love, but it's easy to feel fond of everyone who smiles so sweetly ☺️

It makes me feel like they gave a little bit of their spirit to me, and I want to hold it in my hands like a small bird burrowing into my cupped palms for a nap.

#life #coworkers #safe space #starbucks #plants #relationship #aromantic #fae farm #Spotify #tiredsalaryman blog #tiredsalaryman art #dear diary

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destinyimage · 1 year

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Bill Johnson: ‘The Biggest Lie Sold to Christians’

Almost every believer confesses that God is good. We have to. It’s in the Bible.

It’s not the belief in His goodness that threatens us. It’s our definition of this goodness that has brought much debate and sometimes conflict and turmoil into the family of God.

If He is as good as many claim, how we respond to this truth will require massive change in how we do life. Instead of creating doctrines that explain away our weakness and anemic faith, we’ll actually have to find out why “the greater works than these” have not been happening in and around us (see John 14:12). Creating doctrines of no miracles today not only contradicts His Word, it is a sneaky way to avoid responsibility. Instead of changing the standard for life given by Jesus, who walked the earth two thousand years ago, we are to embrace it and follow His model. We were designed with the capacity to be conformed into the likeness of Jesus, the One who is resurrected from the dead and is seated at the right hand of the Father (see 1 John 4:17). We’ll deal with that later. But the bottom line is, it was never meant that the hour we live in was to be inferior to Jesus’ earthly ministry. It’s quite the opposite.

Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do, because I go to My Father (John 14:12).

The Pharisees saw Jesus as a threat to their positions of power and influence. In a similar way, many leaders today feel threatened over a possible shift in theological positions that implies we’ve not been as successful in ministry as we could have been. We empower the lie we believe. The fight to protect the sanctity of our history has kept us from a more significant future. I’m thankful for my past. I’m thankful for what our forefathers fought for, so that we might live in greater liberty in Christ. But there is more. And things are about to change because the greatest harvest of souls of all time is about to come in. And it won’t come because of our advanced skills in preaching, our use of media, or even our powerful music. Each of those areas has importance, but they do not exist unto themselves. They are important in that they are vehicles that carry the greatest revelation of all time—God is good, and He is a perfect Father.

His goodness is beyond our ability to comprehend, but not our ability to experience. Our hearts will take us where our heads can’t fit. Understanding is vital, but it often comes through experiencing God. Faith for the journey of walking with God leads to encounters with God. It results in a growing knowledge and understanding of truth, as in “by faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God” (Hebrews 11:3). Having said that, one of the great commands of Scripture pertaining to the experience of His goodness is “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). If you’ll taste it for yourself, you’ll see it more clearly. Your perception of truth will increase as you experience truth more deeply.

As it is with this most important doctrine of being born again, we always understand a subject more clearly once we’ve experienced it. Hearing someone teach on being born again who isn’t born again is almost laughable. There is hardly a group of believers anywhere that would treasure that teaching. Yet a similar practice is almost applauded as noble in much of Christendom—theology that requires no experience. I realize that some may assume I mean that theology is based on experience, which implies to some we throw reason out the door. That is a true and present danger. But the issue that has had much more damage in present-day church life is theology without experience. The Pharisees were known for theories that never had an effect on their own lives. To combat this, we must exercise our faith to put a demand on what we believe. Simple mental assent must not be the end of the story.

Common Beliefs Must Be Challenged!

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Changing our theology doesn’t change Him. Either He is authentically good, or He is not. I would never suggest that we pretend He is different than He is. Nothing is accomplished by allowing our imagination to create our own image of God. He would then be no better than the gods made out of wood or stone, also created by human initiative. Inventing Him in our minds or building Him with our hands is a similarity that is both vain and ultimately destructive. Discovering who He is and what He is like in reality is the only possible way to discover His true goodness. This eternal journey into His infinite goodness is the one we are privileged to embrace.

I’ve heard people say they don’t believe in God anymore after experiencing a disappointment or tragic loss of some sort. I don’t mean to treat their situation with disregard, but you can’t turn a consciousness of God on and off like that. You may be mad at God. You may accuse Him and refuse to serve Him. But you can’t decide He no longer exists. To claim atheism as a belief system doesn’t get rid of Him. It merely deadens a person’s awareness of Him and attempts to remove the awareness of his need for Him from the context of daily life. Merely changing our theology changes us, not Him. But when what we believe is anchored in the reality of who He is, earth comes into agreement with Heaven where the reality of His world increasingly invades ours, manifested in both power and glory.

It’s impossible for us to create a concept of what He is like that is greater than He really is. He is either greater than we can understand, perceive, describe, or imagine, or He is not God—we are. Neither can we exaggerate His goodness. We can twist it, pervert it, dilute it, and misrepresent it. But the one thing we cannot do is exaggerate the goodness of God. It will take us all of eternity just to broach the subject of His goodness. The apostle Paul gives us an extremely challenging promise in this regard. Ephesians 3:20–21: “Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.”

The phrase “beyond all that we ask or think” is quite impressive. “Beyond all we ask” addresses the impact of our prayers, which include both those that are outwardly expressed and the secret cries of the heart. What God does for us is beyond the reach of our biggest prayer on our greatest day with our highest level of faith—He exists in that realm to work for us. “Beyond all we think” is another very powerful statement dealing with the impact of our imagination. This describes us on our best day, with our most well-thought-out dreams, plans, goals, and imaginations. His commitment to us is to function beyond the limitations of our imagination and perform the unthinkable on our behalf. These are expressions of His goodness, which come from His being. He is perfect goodness personified.

I said “yes” to this journey many years ago and have since dis- covered that His goodness is beyond my wildest dreams. My yes started by simply recognizing that I have sinned and fallen short of God’s purpose and design. Jesus then became for me the perfect manifestation of goodness. He rescued me from all that would destroy me and brought me into a relationship with Him where more of His goodness could be discovered. Many have taken that first step but tragically have stopped after step one, picking up the view of who God is as seen in the Old Testament stories. Those stories are important and necessary. But the fact is, Jesus came to replace them with a clearer view of what God is like. There are few deceptions more devastating than this one. It is tragic and so completely unnecessary.

Civil War in The Church

The one thing that concerns me most in the day in which we live is the possibility of another civil war. The reality of that potential conflict is upon us right now. However, it’s not racial, political, or economic. Neither is it fought between groups with differing moral or social agendas. While those tensions obviously exist in society, they have permission to exist because of the division that is celebrated in the Church. We set the stage. It’s tough to get reconciliation in the factions that exist in the world around us when the Church itself sponsors the wars of internal conflict with religious delight.

I’m referring to a war within the family of God—it is spiritual. This one is not being fought with guns and bombs. It’s being fought with words of accusation, character assassination, ridicule, and slander. The conflict is over the goodness of God. That spirit of accusation is welcomed in many circles as the voice of reason, the voice of discernment. My prayer is that through an arresting revival in the nations, we will see another Great Awakening that dismantles the tsunami of the demonic that thrives on our self-righteous theology and the corresponding division it creates.

The Church isn’t known for handling conflict well. We tend to be the only army in the world that shoots their wounded, especially if they were wounded through their own doing. When there are doctrinal conflicts, there are books written and radio shows broad- casted to expose and shame those attempting to serve God with their best effort to teach truth. Good theology is essential. But theology without love is a loud clanging cymbal—annoying at best. I believe that a true discovery of the goodness of God could heal this issue for us all.

The Heavenly Mind

The biblical concept of the renewed mind is in part an answer to this problem. It is made available to us as a gift from a good Father—it is the mind of Christ. The renewed mind is more than having the ability to give a biblical answer to a problem. It includes that, but in reality, it is so much more. It is seeing from a divine perspective.

And do not be conformed to this world, but be trans- formed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:2).

In the Romans passage, the renewed mind proves the will of God. That is fascinating when you realize that the best definition for the will of God in Scripture is “Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). It can be said that the renewed mind is what reveals and illustrates God’s will on earth. The mind of Christ, seen in Jesus’ lifestyle, illustrates this beautifully. He confronted storms, healed bodies, multiplied food, and did countless other miracles to reveal Heaven’s effect on earth. The renewed mind in us should do the same. We will know our mind is renewed when the impossible looks logical.

Yet there’s another twist provided in the word prove. It can also be translated “approve.” Let me illustrate. If I were the world’s greatest art specialist and authority on Vincent van Gogh paintings, and you discovered a painting signed “Vincent van Gogh” in an estate you inherited, you’d want my services to evaluate whether or not it’s an authentic masterpiece. If it’s real, it could be worth one hundred million dollars. If it’s a fake, it may be worth one hundred dollars. My approval makes quite the difference in what someone would be willing to pay to purchase such a potential treasure. The burden of proof is then put upon my shoulders. If the painting is authentic, it will be celebrated worldwide as a great new discovery. If it’s a fake, it must be labeled as such so no one is duped into buying something that has very little value.

My process of study would include the examination of every brushstroke of your painting to see if it’s consistent with his style. I would also test the colors, paints, and canvas to see if they’re similar to ones we know are consistent with his known works. It would also be prudent in my examination to research the subject of the painting to see if I could place the location or content with what we know about his life. If after weeks of examination, I put my approval on your piece of art as a previously unknown Vincent van Gogh painting, you, of course, would be ecstatic. The news of my authentication of your painting would hit the art world worldwide within minutes. You would then need to decide whether you wanted to keep the piece for your own enjoyment, display it in a museum for others to enjoy, or auction it to the highest bidder. Please note that such an approval is not a careless opinion, as my entire reputation as a specialist is at risk. It has to be a scholarly conclusion based on the study of previous works as well as the known nature and life of the artist himself.

Discovering the will of God in some of our most difficult situations is often as easy as using the same reasoning offered through this illustration. For example, if someone calls me on the phone and tells me that the sickness I am suffering from has been given to me by God to teach me to trust Him, I need to examine his word to see if it is an authentic word from God. God, the Chief of all artists, has left us with many masterpieces throughout Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The stories of the Master’s touch abound as person after person is healed and delivered by the love of this perfect Father. As I study these four Gospels, I must take note that I can’t find any “painting” with the same strokes or colors. There’s not one example of Jesus giving a disease to anyone. In fact, His lifestyle was the opposite. What the person claims is an authentic word from God contradicts the examples of His known works. The renewed mind is able to come to the conclusion that what was given to me with God’s signature at the bottom is in fact a forgery. The nature of this deceptive piece is so severe that it requires me to expose it as a fraud so that no one buys the counterfeit art in His name. And even though I soundly reject this person’s word to me, I don’t reject the person. I know that my approach to that person sets the standard for how I am to be treated in my day of need. “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy” (Matthew 5:7). He is to be valued for who he is in God, not because he gets everything right. None of us do. In the Old Testament, the prophet was judged if he gave a wrong word. In the New Testament, the word is to be judged.

Tragically, many forgeries are accepted by believers day after day and then sold to others in the Christian marketplace as authentic revelations of the will of God. They in turn distort the revealed will of God throughout the Scriptures, perverting our sense of what He is like. The biggest forgery of all just might be the teaching that Jesus no longer heals people from sickness and delivers them from torment. Simple examination of Scripture proves that such a concept is a devilish misrepresentation of the One who gave Himself to reveal the Father and redeem humanity. Many good people believe such lies. They must be treated with kindness—they were poisoned with a lie. But it’s equally true that the lies they promote must be exposed as forgeries. What causes me the most grief is that this way of thinking misrepresents the nature of God. It hurts our approach to life, seriously damaging our ability to represent Him as good. Perhaps it’s these forgeries that have been marketed for decades by well-meaning believers that have contributed to the single greatest vacuum in human consciousness—the knowledge of the goodness of God.

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infernal-fire · 3 years

Text

suburban dream

summary: how do you wake up from a nightmare? is it a nightmare if you’ve been asleep the whole time?

major warnings: noncon/dubcon smut, stalking, mention of pregnancy, some cum play (check the prompts for indications of other warnings)

a/n: this is for @iraot’s 1.1k writing challenge. BIG congrats on 1.1k (i cannot explain how glad i am that others get to read your amazing work) and another BIG thank you for hosting this challenge.

Here are the results of my wheel spins:

Kink wheel: daddy kink, somnophilia, breeding kink Character wheel: Jake Jensen Situation wheel: Neighbours AU

You let out a breath of relief as you dropped the last brown box into the corner of the room. How you managed to own this much stuff, you’d never know. Glanced around the living room, it was difficult to decide where to begin. After much contemplation, you huffed and picked up the pizza catalogue, deciding to call it a day.

It was unbearable to leave the house in the mess that it was. On the other hand, your right hip wailed in agony every time you bent down. Lacking the much-needed support of friends or family, you had no option but to suck it up and unpack… but that can wait till tomorrow.

Fishing out just the necessities for the night, you climbed up the stairs and headed into the master bedroom. Massive house for one person, you noted. You did insist that an apartment would suffice but Tony was a stickler for rules.

All Stark employees have to be residents of a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood.

Before getting the job, you weren’t even aware that “Stark-Jensen” neighbourhoods were a thing; it was a term coined by the tech company itself, referring to neighbourhoods that are protected by Stark-Jensen technology. The crime rate in these neighbourhoods are always startlingly low, the odd criminal or two being from inside the community itself. All things considered, how could you say no to free housing?

Sure, the security measures assured that you never had to worry, but it also made you wonder why they were there in the first place. This place was as secure as the Stark Tower; why? You tried not to ask too many questions, afraid of getting on Tony’s bad side. Besides, it isn’t characteristic of him to give you a straight answer anyway.

Life is good, your most harrowing concern at the moment being that your new place had no curtains. It had been a long time since things were calm and you were just recognizing that your days had been free of storms for some time now. Counting your blessings for the second time that night, you stepped into the shower and reminded yourself of all the things to be grateful for.

To say you were in a good mood was an understatement. You finished your night routine right as the pizza was delivered and excitedly skipped down. No one told you how fun living alone was but they didn’t need to - you quickly found that independence is a glorious necessity in everyone’s life.

Jake stood bewildered at your person throwing the door open. He gripped the pizza box tight to ensure he didn’t drop it and continued to look at you like you had grown a third head. He never was very good with his words, but your beauty truly inhibited his ability to think.

“Hi?” you asked.

“Hey, I-I’m your neighbour, Jake. Saw that you were moving in and I came to ask if you need any help.”

“Oh,” you contemplated, looking past him. “Where’s the pizza person?”

“I paid for it. Housewarming gift?” he said like a question and handed it over.

You received the warm box and waited for him to say something as he fiddled with his hands. His smile looks so familiar but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“So…Do you need help?” He looked up right at the end. You grinned at how shy he was.

“I would really appreciate the help tomorrow,” you replied casually.

“Oh, so… I’ll come by tomorrow morning?” He looked hopeful, as if you were the one handing him the olive branch. You took a once-over of his build, sure that he would come handy when your hip gives up again and nodded in response.

He nodded back slowly and turned around to leave, but seeing him at your doorstep felt eerily similar to a puppy left out in the rain.

“I don’t think I can finish this pizza alone,” you called out. He turned around, a glint of happiness apparent in the shine of his eyes.

“Do you have time to help me with this right now?” It was your turn to look hopeful and you really hoped this cutie took the bait.

He did.

You couldn’t ignore the nagging at the back of your head that you had seen him somewhere. You also couldn’t dismiss the fact that dinner together was just a little awkward. The conversation started off with small talk, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that neither of you enjoyed it. Luckily, it shifted to talks about the neighbourhood and your old job. After that, the words flowed easily, the two of you bonding like you had known each other forever. Although it was smooth sailing, you couldn’t help but wonder how he knows so much about the neighbourhood security measures. When he mentioned that he had lived there for about 6 years, you chalked it up to a simple accumulation of knowledge he must’ve acquired from being around for so long.

“So everyone who lives around here works for Stark-Jensen, right?” you questioned, trailing your finger on the rim of your second wine glass for the night.

“Yeah, for the most part. Though it’s hard to tell who works for who.”

You chuckled in agreement.

“What is it with that? I mean, I work for Stark, and my colleagues, too… but exclusively for Stark. Jensen does exist right?”

“Yeah,” he snickered, “He does. Stark makes the tech and Jensen does the coding.”

“So they’re a two-man team, but Tony’s the face of the company? Seems sort of unfair,” you muttered, quirking your brow a little.

Jake smiled at your comment, glanced at his hands and looked back up at you.

“Maybe he wants it to be that way.” He nudged his glasses up and took a little sip of his wine while peering at you.

You cocked your head to the side and considered the information. Your head was hazy and you needed to stop drinking; alcohol and cute guys are not a good mix.

“Wait.” You squinted at him.

“Does that mean you’re a Stark-Jensen employee?”

He let out a chortle and took your glass from you.

“Hey, hey I want that back!” you whined, not even caring that you’re embarrassing yourself.

“I think that’s enough for today.” He gently helped you up, waiting for you to move.

“I can usually handle my liquor,” you promised, clinging onto his broad form for support.

He started moving you up to your lone mattress in the corner of your room, softly laying you down.

“Jake,” you caught his arm. “You didn’t answer the question. Do you work for Stark-Jensen?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

You pouted at his answer, still gripping his wrist like you owned him. He tenderly pried your fingers off him and placed them on your belly.

“See you tomorrow,” he mumbled as he left your room. You drifted asleep easily, blissfully unaware of how you’d never be able to live down the humiliation of your drunken stupor.

The next day, you hoped Jake wouldn’t show up. It would save you from the burning heat that crept up your neck every time you recalled the night before.

Unfortunately, Jake had found it way too amusing an opportunity to tease you, showing up at your doorstep at 10 AM on the dot.

The day went on without a hitch, the conversation picking up easily from where you left off. Jake found it endearing when you groaned at the mention of your state, only after three glasses of wine. The question of his employment never crossed your mind again, both of you having way too much fun unpacking. You felt ten times better knowing that your neighbour was a loveable, single, hunky nerd; it made the stress of settling in that much better.

Of course, like all good things, the weekend came to an end. Monday morning, you eagerly prepped yourself for a new week at the office. Being Tony’s right hand took five rounds of interviews as well as background checks into every living relative you had. After the turbulent hiring process, you found that the job was not any easier. Luckily, the move had you feeling more thankful about being in sync with all the Stark tech; with FRIDAY managing your house and personal appointments, it was easier to keep track of Tony’s day.

You stepped out of the house and shielded your eyes from the beautiful day. Just then, your lovely new friend stepped onto his porch wearing casual attire.

“Have fun at work!” he called after you.

“Thanks! Are you going to work?”

“Yes, I am.” You took in his outfit one more time, chuckling as you wondered what job would pay enough to live here while dressed in sweats.

“Well, in case I don’t see ya’... Good afternoon, good evening and good night!” you exclaim loudly.

Jake giggled like a schoolboy and waved goodbye before ducking into his car.

Tony’s 10 AM meeting has been pushed to 11 AM, Miss L/N.

“No, no, that won’t do! He has another meeting at 12 PM, the timing will clash. FRIDAY, who was he supposed to meet at 10 AM?”

Speaking to the AI felt more like talking to yourself, but with time, you assured yourself that it would look as cool as Stark when handling your things.

He’s meeting Mr Jensen, the co-founder of Stark-Jensen. I believe you have not met him yet.

“Yeah, I haven’t. Could you call him for me, FRIDAY?”

Sorry Miss L/N, Mr Jensen’s phone is switched off. He has already notified Tony of the change in plans.

“What an asshole,” you grumbled.

On the contrary, I think you would like Mr Jensen, Miss L/N.

“You can just call me Y/N, FRIDAY. Oh, and, send out a notification to all of today’s meeting hosts and tell them to push it by one hour. If they complain, send them my number to take up any problems they have.”

It’ll be done by the time you reach your office.

“Thank you,” you smiled and pulled into your parking spot, right beside Tony’s.

It was hard to imagine what would’ve happened today if Tony didn’t give you access to FRIDAY. Calling each meeting host and personally asking them to push their meetings seemed like a tedious and mind-bending task. And frankly, you didn’t ever look forward to talking to Karen’s. But now, you would never have to know; FRIDAY was an absolute godsend.

You stepped onto the other side of security clearance just as the clock struck 9 AM. Strutting up to your office, you made a mental checklist of everything you need to do during the day. Usually, Tony didn’t require you to sit in for his meetings. He has a different set of assistants for note-taking purposes.

Too consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the large picture of Jake and Tony sitting side by side on the wall beside the elevators. You also didn’t notice Jake’s smirk as he passed by you with ease. He would’ve stopped to say hi, but he knew that you didn’t realize who he was yet. Now he just had to figure out a way to get you to show up to his and Tony’s meeting and give you the heart attack of a lifetime.

Beep, beep.

The Stark-watch buzzed on your wrist, letting you know that Tony was calling for you. You had barely even stepped into the elevator and he was already whining like a baby.

You shook your head and stepped into the doorframe of his lab.

“Come here!” his voice called from the far end of a lab. Your suspicions of him being under the work table were confirmed when he wheeled out on his back and handed you a wrench.

“Do me a favour. Tighten this for me?”

He handed you the arm of an Iron Man suit, what you assumed was his latest mark. He already lived at the lab as it was, you wondered how he ever had time for Pepper.

“Come on, put your arm into it L/N! You know what, you’re distracted, give it here.”

“Did you call me here to tighten your screws?” You shifted your weight onto one leg and crossed your arms. It was sassy of you, but Tony’s assistant needs to have some backbone, famously said by Rhodey.

“Well, you know me, screws always loose.” He knocked on his head and chuckled at his own joke. You sighed and turned to walk out.

“I need you to sit in for my 11 o’clock. And cancel everything else today.”

You gasped and turned again, marching to where he was lying down.

“Tony Stark, you have no regard for anyone’s time! I already pushed everything back by one hour because of your buddy Jensen and now you’re asking me to cancel everything?”

“I know, and I agree. I wish I could go to the mind-numbing meetings with corporate clowns, but I want to show you and Jensen something cool.”

He stopped fiddling with his toy just long enough to glance at you.

You sighed and called for FRIDAY, groaning for the umpteenth time since that morning. Why were you acting like this was the first time he’s done this? It was probably your lack of energy from moving. You couldn’t wait to get home and maybe call Jake over for dinner. Now that you considered this possibility, time seemed to pass slower, but at least there was something worthwhile to look forward to.

When 10:55 rolled around, you were sitting in Tony’s lab, patiently waiting as Tony set up his latest invention for demonstration.

“Where’s your buddy?” you asked, checking your watch for the time again.

“On his way,” he replied without turning away from his work.

He paused and took a step back to admire his work before facing you.

“You haven’t met Jake, have you?”

“Jake?”

Right on cue, Jake walked through the doors of the labs and you whipped around to find your grinning friend.

“Howdy neighbour,” Jake sneered.

“Oh, right. You live beside each other,” Tony muttered as he gathered some more things from his desk.

You shamelessly inhaled the pinewood and vanilla-infused scent of Jake as he sat down beside you. To have him so close to you was a dangerous thing, your cunt unknowingly clenching every time he moved his biceps.

“Stop making heart-eyes at him.”

You threw whatever was in your hand at Tony’s head, and it happened to be a pen. It narrowly missed as he ducked and doubled over in laughter at your embarrassment. The bastard took sick pleasure in it so he often made it a point to humiliate you, but it usually wasn’t in front of the co-CEO of the world’s largest tech company.

The rest of your time in that lab went on without any heart attacks - as far as anyone knew, the slick between your thighs doesn’t account for a ‘heart attack’, per se. You shouldn’t even be thinking about Jake like that. He was technically your boss too.

Tony dismissed you at lunch and told you to take the rest of the day off, much to your delight. You slid into your car and dropped your head onto the steering wheel.

You had barely moved into the neighbourhood and you’re already finding ways to be fired.

~Time skip~

You sighed and laid back in the over-the-top maternity chair Jake got you for feeding. Your baby gurgled as curled his little fingers into his palm before knocking on your breast once. With a light chuckle, you cooed as the little bundle began falling asleep.

This was the only place in the house that had a sliver of sunlight gracing the inside of the house.

You could have outdoor privileges if you didn’t pull that little stunt.

Could you really blame yourself for trying to leave? How were you to know that it’s impossible to leave a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood?

Because it says “Stark-Jensen” in the name, you dumbass.

Fair enough.

You lost count of how many times you sigh on the daily, instead opting to count the number of times you’re able to hold off a mental breakdown. Today, you got the rare privilege of privacy, with Jake being gone to another one of Stark’s presentation.

You reminisced about the last time you sat in Tony’s lab and watched him explain his latest creation. Little did you know that the first time you sat with Jake in there would also be the last time you ever sat in there.

You gently placed the Jim in the cradle. Again, one of the many over-the-top investments made by Jake to ensure the baby got state-of-the-art care. The way Jensen had made you sit beside him as he put the contraption together almost had you lurching. But you didn’t want to wake the baby. The horridness of the memories cannot outweigh your will to keep Jimmy from crying.

“Look at it!”, Jake excitedly spun the box to show you. It must’ve cost an unreasonable amount of money - not that he couldn’t spare to spend the coin, but the purchase confirmed your worst suspicions; he was serious about this all.

Your eyes, puffy from the days of crying, were barely open. Yet you still nodded, figuring that if you put up with his enthusiasm now, he’ll let you go to sleep without raping you like he did every night.

Anyway, you were wrong.

When did everything go so wrong?; How?

You picked up your phone. Your eyes flickered between the only two contacts saved on it. Jake made sure you couldn’t do anything except call him or Tony.

You missed your ex-boss (who was always more of a friend to you). But, it was obvious that calling him wasn’t worth it and would rarely yield any fruitful conversation. Tony always spoke as if he were walking on glass around you and your words were always monitored and censored by Jake. It didn’t take long to figure that one out.

“I don’t know what happened, Tony, she’s just unhinged,” Jake explained over the phone. In the background, you struggled against the bonds that held you to his bedframe. You sobbed harder into your gag and tried to scream ‘help’. All that came out was a shriek.

“You hear her? She’s completely unfit to come into work… What happened? I don’t know man… She’s breaking down under all the stress. A few days of rest might do the trick. No, no, you don’t have to come down. I’ll take care of it.”

He ended the call and you went limp, pausing your hysteria. He smiled at you as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. As if he hadn’t just made Tony believe that you were off your rockers. As if he hadn’t just fucked you five times over the span of 48 hours.

He had planned every step of your entrapment to the letter and it was all going according to his plan.

You put your phone facedown on the dining table and walked back upstairs to your room. His room. Your room, too.

Never, you internally screamed.

Well, it’s too late to debate it.

You stood at the foot of your bed and traced the footboard. He took you countless amount of times on this bed and every instance held some clue that he was working up to what was happening now. You could see that now - but what was the point now?

You giggled as Jake pushed you onto his bed. Who knew this golden retriever could be so rough?

“Shhshshshhh” you slurred and Jake laughed in response.

“Tony’s not here, baby,” he replied, climbing on top of you.

“We’re not gonna get fired?”

“He can’t fire me, sweetheart.”

“Oh… yeah.” You frowned, remembering that your risqué relationship was only risky for you.

In your drunken haze, you didn’t realize Jake was rubbing his bulbous tip against your folds, gathering slick.

“Condom?”

“Don’t have,” Jake lied.

“Oh,” you hesitated.

“It’ll feel so good, baby.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck and sunk in before you had the chance to protest.

“Jakeeee,” you whined. Writhing under his grasp, you shook your head side-to-side as he vigorously fucked into you.

He abruptly stopped and pulled out. “What have I said about saying my name?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you sheepishly say.

“That’s right, slut. You’re gonna make me a daddy, right?” He pushed back in.

“Yeah, you are. Gonna make me a daddy, so call me daddy.”

The implication of his words flew right over your head in your drunken haze and blank mind. Any ounce of sense that you had left was being fucked out by his thick length.

“Gonna blow my load. Fill you tight cunt, not gonna last long.”

His words were broken with loud moans. He couldn’t think straight with your warm, wet pussy inviting him in over and over.

As you shook from an overwhelming orgasm, your pussy involuntarily clenched, causing Jake to lose any last bit of restraint he was holding onto. He pushed in as far as he could go as you flailed around. He pinned your arms down and pressed his mouth into yours, delivering a hot and heavy kiss that had you panting.

He pulled out, but the string of cum that followed made you blanch. You never were one for cum play. Still, you didn’t protest when Jake pushed everything back in with two fingers.

“Gotta’ make sure you’re full baby.”

You shake your head now, but again, what’s the point? It’s all done and dusted. Though, you should give yourself some credit. Even if you had realized earlier, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He would’ve realized that you knew before you could’ve even thought about escaping.

As you drifted asleep, you adjusted the volume of the baby monitor one last time and slumped into the fluffy pillows.

How do you wake up from dreams? Was it by pinching yourself? You couldn’t wake up from the nightmare that was your reality when you pinched yourself. You doubted that would work right now. You couldn’t recall how to open your eyes. Instead, you whimpered in your sleep, reliving the moment Jake finally revealed his ulterior motive

“You did what?” Jake was seething, but the only indication of it was his clenching jaw and red face. His tone was the perfect embodiment of the calm before a storm.

“I know you aren’t happy… but Jake, you- you’re always talking about babies and a family. It was so overwhelming and I… I-I…” You were shivering now, unable to withstand the heat of his glare. You had never been on the receiving end of his anger. Hell, you had never even seen him angry.

“I didn’t have an abortion, Jake, for god’s sake stop looking at me like a killed a baby! Plan B is not a crime. I’m only even bringing this up because I started on birth control anyway. Plan B every time we have sex is just not practical or feasible.”

At this point, you could’ve been speaking to a wall. Jake still hadn’t said anything and you were beginning to wonder if he had even been listening.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he whispered, at last.

“What?”

“I watch you do everything, I can’t believe I didn’t know about the Plan B.”

“What… What are you saying?”

“I said,” Jake stood up, “I’ve basically been watching you 24/7. And I don’t know how I didn’t notice this.”

“What do you mean watching me?” Tears in your waterline were threatening to blur your vision but you blinked furiously in an attempt to keep looking Jake in the eyes.

“You think FRIDAY works for you?”

Jake leisurely cracked each knuckle and took a step towards you. You took one back.

“Oh, now, don’t be like that.”

You woke from your nightmare that was the boiling pot and jumped straight into the fire. Jake was already moving in and out of your channel, moaning about how he missed you too much.

You tried to adjust yourself but he caught your arms and pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach.

When he pushed back in, the hopelessness of your life manifested as tears; it happens every once in a while.

Today, you had a new record: you were able to hold off a total of 7 breakdowns.

But, of course, that was right before he pinched you awake every time.

Masterlist

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writing-on-the-wahl · 3 years

Text

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero and villain #hero #villain #snippet #my writing #write #writeblr #ive donated blood exactly once #thanks again for the medical expertise #don’t lie on medical forms pls ppl #chaotic good heroes #protective villain

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Shenanigans and Love (Adrenaline Junkie Part 13)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: the Warden, mentions of death, phantom pain syndrome, extreme fluff

Word count: 3,226

The light glow of the redstone lamp illuminated your work space. Currently, it was about two hours before everybody was due to wake up and you were hovering over your journal containing your notes on the Warden. Not much was known about the cave-dwelling creature, but you found a couple of books about it at the library. So far, you found out that it indeed didn’t have eyes; it navigated via a mixture of hearing and a vibration network found in the blocks that had the glowing tentacles on them (you now knew that they were called ‘sculk blocks’). The sculk blocks would pick up on movement or touch, it would send vibration waves through the air, where it would reach the Warden’s own sculk stalks. Without the sculk stalks on the Warden’s head, the Warden was defenseless.

You also read about the anatomy of the creature. Known juvenile specimens ranged from seven to eleven feet tall while adults spanned from twelve to a whopping twenty feet tall. While their average lifespan is unknown due to the parasitic nature of the beast, it is known that they are out of their juvenile stage once they are approximately twenty years old. Thinking back on the one in the cave, it was about twice as tall as you were. That was a juvenile mob and it’s probably grown rapidly since then. The thing that killed you so viciously was a juvenile. You shuddered thinking about what an adult could do.

Juveniles are charted to be more erratic in their decisions while adults were known to be calculating and alert. Known weaknesses were known to be the sculk stalks and the heart. It was going to be incredibly difficult to take it down by yourself, but if worse comes to worse, you’d gladly take the beast down with you. Just in case, you left behind a small will with things you were planning on giving to your family. You were going to leave your workshop and your blueprints to Arthur, your collection of diamonds to Tommy and Wilbur, your stock of netherite and gold to Technoblade, and your wealth and life savings to Philza. You requested that Philza take care of Arthur, you couldn’t ask for a better father figure to have than Philza. Only the best for Arthur. In addition, you had a letter prepared for every member of your family. They were still in their first drafts, but they were coming along fast. In them, you detailed how grateful you were for every single one of them and reminisced on your favorite memory you shared with them. You still had about a week and a half left before you planned on attacking the cave, but you always liked to have extra time to complete things.

Your alarm clock sounded with harsh, lazer like beeps before you quickly silenced it. You didn’t need Arthur or Philza waking up so early. Sighing, you hid your journal and letters under a false bottom drawer and gently closed it. You trudged up the stairs quietly and made your way to the bathroom to shower for the day. When you took off your prosthetic, you could feel the phantom pains shoot up your nonexistent wing. In addition to that, the feathered stump and the areas around it felt stiff. The warmth of the shower did nothing to alleviate the pain.

After your shower, you started to make breakfast. Soon after, the other members of the household filed into the kitchen with differing energies. Arthur, the hyper, knowledge craving kid he was, walked into the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his head held high while Philza followed him with disheveled hair and tired blue eyes. With breakfast situated at the table, everyone started eating. You continuously shifting uncomfortably in your seat didn’t go unnoticed by the two as they eyed you after they woke up a little more.

Finally having enough of your constant movement, Philza finally spoke up, “(y/n)?” You hummed, turning to look at him, “yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

You suddenly become hyper aware of your movements as you force your body to sit still. “Everything’s fine, why you ask?”

“You look a little uncomfortable. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

You sighed, “I’ll tell you later. Arthur did you have anything specific you wanted to learn today?”

His eyes shone with the brightness of all of the stars in the universe as he made quick work to swallow his mouthful of toast, jumping in his seat slightly as he chewed. “Yes! I was wondering if you could teach me how to work with comparators!”

“That takes a lot of time and patience to learn, we probably won’t get it all done by the end of the day today. Is that alright?” He enthusiastically nodded, shoving the last bit of toast in his mouth and running off with a mouthful of unchewed bread.

You could feel a slight worry stab your gut, “Arthur, swallow your food before you run! You could choke!”

You watched as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, vigorously chewed, swallowed, and resumed his sprint upstairs. You dragged a tired hand through your hair and sipped at your coffee.

“Ender, now I know how you felt with us when we were kids. Kid’s gonna be the death of me.”

Your dad chuckled, sipping at his own coffee. “He’s a lot more tame than you four were. Techno and Wilbur weren’t that bad, you were just a tad bit more chaotic, and well, you remember how Tommy was. You’re just way too worried about him. Kids will be kids, they do crazy things and sometimes you can’t stop them. After the couple months of adopting Tommy, I just let him learn from his mistakes. You gotta let them learn from their mistakes or else they’re never gonna learn. It’s just something all parents have to do if they want their kid to grow as a person.”

“That’s tr- wait, parent? Arthur’s my protégé, not my kid.”

He smirked over his mug and raised an eyebrow at you, “really? Cuz you seem awfully worried about him.”

“Dad. I’m just worried that he’s gonna accidentally kill himself. What, can I not be worried about my protégé?”

“No need to get defensive, just trying to point out the obvious-”

“The obvious? Dad, I'm only twenty. I’m not adopting anyone anytime soon.”

“I adopted Techno when I was twenty three,” he pointed out with raised eyebrows, “besides, I think you’d be a great parent. You’re already a parental figure for Arthur anyways, so nothing would change too much.”

You were silent for a moment as you stared at him blankly. You never viewed yourself as a parental figure type before. Your current lifestyle of never leaving your workshop would never be able to accommodate having someone that depended on you. You could hardly take care of a goldfish (you still had Bubbles’ grave in the backyard at your house in L’manberg), let alone an entire human child. Sure, you babysat Fundy when Niki was too busy to, but that was your nephew and it was only for a day at a time. You planned on taking Arthur with you back to L’manberg (only if he wanted to of course), but you didn’t think that far ahead. He was probably going to have to stay at your house. You weren’t cut out to be a parent, you wouldn’t be good enough for Arthur.

Philza, noticing your slightly panicked zoned out state, quickly reassured you, “you don’t have to make a definitive decision right now, you have time. Just- just consider it. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to come to me. I think I’ve raised enough kids to know what I’m doing,” he chuckled to himself.

Your feathered wing dropped in relief as you gave him your best smile over your coffee mug. “Thanks Dad, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re a lifesaver.” Right after that, a particularly large burst of pain shot along the length of your nonexistent right wing and loitered in the area around the base of your wing. You bit your tongue at the sudden pain as you felt the muscles twitch.

“It’s no problem, I’ll always be here to help ya.” He smiled at you before his eyes snapped to something behind you. His smile dropped as he eyed you concerningly, pointing behind you. “Is- is it supposed to do that?”

You followed his eyes behind you to your prosthetic wing. The metal was twitching in sporadic bursts with varying intensity. You could hear the slight scratching of the metal clashing lightly against the wooden chair. Though it was very inconvenient, you supposed you should be glad that it was moving with the muscle impulses of the muscles you used in flight. Suddenly, you could feel a muscle directly on the base of your wing twitch as the metal moved in tandem with the impulse. The entire wing extended to it’s full length and knocked over the chair next to you. It stood erect for a bit before another twitch caused another spasm that worked its way throughout the length of your metal wing. This time, the wing reared back to your body and almost smacked you in the face. If you didn’t move, your eye would’ve probably been plucked out by one of the metal feathers.

Your flesh wing puffed up slightly in embarrassment as you turned to look back at the blond man in front of you, “technically? I mean, it’s just the sensors picking up on the twitching. I-I’ll get the chair.”

As you stood up, you grunted in pain as another spasm hit you. This time, your wing extended fully perpendicularly to your back causing the muscles in the base of your nubby wing to be pulled unexpectedly. Hissing, your hand shot to rub at the base of your wing. “Fuck that was a bad one.”

You heard the screech of wood on wood as Philza stood up and hurried over to you, dodging a couple of swings from your wing. His hands were hovering indecisively in front of him. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Take it off. Just- hhh, just take the sensors off. There should be seven of them, all on my back and shoulders.” You bent over with your hands gripping the table with each spasm of your muscles. You could feel the fabric of your shirt being pulled slightly from your body and the warmth of your dad’s hand brushing against your twitching skin as he hurriedly ripped the sensors off your skin.

Once they were all off, the metal wing drooped limply downwards, occasionally being moved slightly when what’s left of the flesh stiffened. “Good, can you unfasten the belts? There’s three of them, they’re a little- ah, a little tricky. After that, carefully pull the metal out through the slit in my shirt. Make sur- sure the sensors don’t rip.”

You sighed when you felt the wing being taken off from you and pulled through the slit in your shirt. Slumping back down into your chair, you reached a hand around to nead the skin on your back. You could feel the twitching slowly decrease in intensity, leaving a sore feeling in its wake. Your wing was placed gently onto the table in front of you, some parts hanging off the side. “Goddamn, I haven’t had an episode that bad since I grinded out making weapons for the War.”

You could hear water running before a glass was placed in front of you and Philza picked up the chair you knocked over and pulled it up next to you. He started to rub circles around the muscles around your wing. You sighed in content, feeling the knots in your back being relieved, “thanks. That feels good.”

“(y/n)?” A small voice said from the doorway of the kitchen. You shot up and bit back a groan when your sore muscles were moved. The young boy was leaning into the doorway with his hands on the sides and his mop of brilliant copper hair hung downwards. He looked worried and slightly scared.

“Hey Arthur, we can start your lesson soon, I just need a sec.”

“Are you okay?” His wavering tone and small voice combined with the tears slowly filling his eyes broke your heart. Eyes softening, you stood up and walked over to him, pulling him into a soft hug. “Of course I’m okay, you don’t need to worry buddy,” you deepened your voice and spoke dramatically, ‘(Y/n) Minecraft the Great, Conqueror of the Unknown’ will never be taken down!”

He gave a watery chuckle against your shirt and burrowed his head deeper into your shoulder, gripping you tighter. You reached up to stroke his hair and wrapped your left wing around him loosely, shielding him from the world with a protective feathery barrier. You could hear Philza picking up dishes from the table and quietly start to do the dishes. Despite the occasional twitch in your back and the phantom pain shooting down your wing, you directed all of your attention to Arthur. Eventually, he pulled away and wiped at his blotchy face. “Are you still up for the lesson?”

Just as Arthur opened his mouth, Philza interrupted him from behind you, “you’re not doing anything until you feel better (y/n).”

“Dad, honestly it isn’t that-”

“Don’t say it honestly isn’t that bad, we both know that’s not true. You’re on bedrest for today.”

You grumbled to yourself as you stood up and handed your glass of water to Arthur, who sipped at the contents giving you a small “thank you.” Nodding, you were escorted out of the kitchen by Philza and ushered to the couch. Once you were laying down on your stomach, he handed you a book and placed a hot water bottle on your back. Before you could stop it, a pleased hum left your lips as your body relaxed on the couch. “You’re staying here. I better not find you anywhere else when Arthur and I come home.”

You lifted your head up and stared at him with an eyebrow raised, “where’re you taking him?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes lit up slightly before he put on his stern facade once more. “Just to the village. I need to pick up a few things.”

“And you need him why…?”

“Well, I can’t go without someone helping me! I’m an old man after all.” He started to nudge Arthur towards the door and slipped his shoes on.

“You’re only thirty six, but whatever. Arthur, be good for my dad.”

“Alright (y/n), feel better soon!” He gave you a bright smile before he was pulled out of the house by Philza.

You tried to read, but the nagging worry for Arthur in the back of your mind never allowed for you to be immersed in your book. You knew Philza would never let anything happen to him, but you couldn’t help but worry whenever Arthur wasn’t in your line of sight. You supposed that it was a part of being an avian hybrid; you needed to constantly know if the child was alright. You tried to force yourself to go to sleep, but the pain prevented you from doing so, so you ended up mindlessly watching the seconds tick by on the clock. Before you knew it, your eyes closed and you were put in a light slumber.

You were awoken by the front door opening and laughter filling the house. You cracked open your crusty eyes and groaned as you sat up. You looked at the two with bleary eyes. Arthur was laughing at something Philza said as the blond looked over at you. “Hey hun, you feelin better?”

“Yeah a bit. What’d you get at the village?”

“Just some things for dinner. Arthur, wanna help me cook?”

Arthur, being the walking ball of sunshine that he was, nodded vigorously and started to drag the older man to the kitchen. Furrowing your brow, you called out to them, “do you want me to help?”

“No, stay there. Don’t come in!” Arthur’s excited voice shouted back to you, making you raise a brow at his words. You couldn’t lie, you felt nervous at his words. Just what did he have in store for you? Occasionally, you could hear yelps and bangs, which made you want to go into the kitchen even more. But you held off, trusting Philza.

About an hour and a half passed before you were summoned to the kitchen by an overly excited Arthur. Once in the kitchen, you were in slight awe. Spread out on the table was your favorite meal with the addition of fresh cookies left to cool on the stovetop. “All this for me?”

They smiled at you as Arthur ushered you to your spot at the table. “I… don’t know what to say. I- thank you guys.”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Arthur’s idea. I just helped.” Philza looked over at the blushing boy with a smile.

You reached over to ruffle his hair, “well, thank you Arthur. You know me too well, these are all my favorites!”

The boy bashfully smiled at you, “there’s something else too, but that’s for after dinner.”

You put a hand against your heart, touched, “Two surprises in one day? Ender, you’re spoiling me!” Arthur laughed at you.

Dinner went by fast with light-hearted laughter bouncing throughout the kitchen. The dinner and cookies tasted amazing, your taste buds felt like they were in heaven. After dinner, Arthur drug you to your room with an excited Philza following you two. On your bed sat your wing, but it had colorful things attached to the surface. Furrowing your brow, you looked closer to find various magnets sticking to the iron surface.

They ranged from the nonbinary flag to small mobs to little puns (your favorite ones were ‘olive you’ and ‘bird puns fly right over my head’). You could feel your smile widening at every magnet you saw, your wing fluttering in happiness. One of the magnets made you stop completely though as you stared at it with wide eyes. It was simple, but oh did it make your heart sing in joy and your eyes fill with tears. On the magnet, in big, bold letters were the words ‘world’s best parent’.

“Arthur…” You looked at him through blurred vision. He looked nervous, looking anywhere but at you and shifting on the balls of his feet. You lunged forward and pulled him into a tight hug and wrapped your wing around him, making sure he was as close to you as possible.

Philza watched the exchange with a soft smile before he decided to let you two have some privacy. His heart was full of happiness as he walked downstairs to clean up the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his wings fluttering uncontrollably. He was ecstatic to officially welcome Arthur to his family. Sure, he had a small hand in leading Arthur over to the ‘world’s best parent’ magnet, but it was Arthur that picked out the magnet for you. He knew you were going to make a fantastic parent.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo @yeiras-world @immadatmostthings @hee-hee-haw @jackalopedoodles @m1lkmandan @vanhakirja @im-a-depressed-gay @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @questioning-sanity @camisascam @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @kakamiissad @jayistrash4 @lifestylesleep @speedymaximoff @sun-shark-tooth @appetiteofapeoplepleaser @lestrangenymph @kinismanditory @dragons-lurk-here @rinzyx05 @the-wandering-pan-ace @angelic-scent @shinipii @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander @izzydimensional @used-avocado @laura--444 @wing-non @lovely-echoo @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @mysteryartisticwriter @momo-has-a-gun @misfortunatem00n @w-0-r-n-n @v-kouya @kusuinko @cheybaee @dulcedippers @jaciahbabes

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #mcyt x reader #platonic #reader is gender neutral #tw: the warden #tw: swearing #tw: phantom pain

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Be my Cytosine

Rowaelin month day 12 - delayed love confession

Ok, today’s title is a weird one. If you have a knowledge of basic biology you will know that DNA has four nucleobases called Adenine (A), Guanine (G), Cytosine (C) and Thymine (T). You should also know that C always pairs with G and A pairs with T but in RNA A cheats on T with Uracil. This should help to understand the confession at the end. In the fic Rowan is a geneticist... ( a field your truly finds extremely fascinating).

Apologies for the biology lesson. I felt I had to give an explanation for the weirdness of the title which is, by the way, also a play on the phrase Be my valentine...

Anyway... enjoy it!

Aelin was at the pub waiting for Rowan. He had texted her to meet him at their pub. She had a tiring day at work and was more than happy to finish off the day at the pub with her best friend.

Aelin was a high school teacher and Rowan was a scientist. He worked in a lab as a geneticist.

They had friends in common, and they met through them but their beginnings had been turbulent. The man had confessed he hated her guts and she had admitted she was not his fan either. The animosity had lasted for about a year. Then something shifted and slowly their relationship settled and they became friends. Until the she broke up with Chaol, he kicked her out of the flat and Rowan had been the first one to offer her his spare bedroom. So they became flatmates and the friendship blossomed even further to the point she could now call him her best friend.

What she had never had the guts to tell him was that she had been in love with him for a while now. But she had kept it to herself. They lived together and it might complicate everything between them. So she had pined in silence. Not even her friends knew about her secret.

Rowan was looking forward to meet Aelin at the pub. He had big news and she was the first person he wanted to share it with.

The job offer had been the culmination of years spent on books, his PhD years spent in labs day in and day out and then his currently living in a lab. but all of the sacrifices had finally paid off. He had been offered the position as a lead scientist in Doranelle as a part of the research team at the country’s most prestigious hospital. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.

He had spent the day in a daze.

Now he was driving and he hoped she would be happy for him.

Once at the pub he parked and finally walked in. He scanned the venue and finally spotted her blonde hair. She was sitting at a table with two pints in front of her.

“I got your favourite as soon as you told me you were five minutes out. Still nice and cold.

They clinked their glasses and Aelin took a huge gulp of her beer.

“Long day at work?” He mused at the avidity with which she drank the first gulp.

“Teenagers and their drama…” she explained “and on top of that, parents who think they can tell you how to do the job that you have been doing for the past ten years.”

“Just tell them to fuck off.”

“Says the man who works all day with petri dishes and DNA. They at least don’t talk back to you.”

Rowan chuckled “DNA mutating might be its way to tell me to fuck off.”

Aelin snorted so hard at the joke, while she was taking a sip that she had inhaled a bit of the beer and was now coughing after the drink went down the wrong pipe.

Rowan patted her back and she coughed a bit more.

“Are you okay?”

Aelin nodded “sorry I just imagined a DNA strand unfolding and in cartoon style morph back into a middle finger in the microscope.”

This time was the turn of Rowan to laugh. She loved that dynamic of theirs. She had even brushed up on some of her high school biology to make jokes. Once for Samhain she had dressed up as a Punnett square. Rowan had laughed for then minutes, then went and corrected it, saying that the combinations were incorrect.

Rowan cleared his voice and the atmosphere shifted all of a sudden “I got a big news today.”

Aelin grinned “Spill you heterozygote beans, Whitethorn.”

“I got a job offer.” He admitted, taking a sip of his beer “An hospital in Doranelle has offered me a lead scientist position for their project on genetic mutations. They read all my papers on a specific disease and its onset. Now they want me to work in one of their state of the art labs.”

Aelin gasped. That was an incredible opportunity. She knew how hard he had worked to get where he was and the job offer was the reward for all the time he had sacrificed and personal life as well. He and Lyria had dated for a couple of years until she left him because he was more dedicated to her job than her.

And if a part of Aelin was elated for him, the other, the selfish one, was hurting. He would leave. He would have a brand new successful life in Doranelle. Away from her. It hurt.

“Ro, that is absolutely amazing,” she hugged him hard and tried to hide the ache in her heart.

“I will need to leave in two weeks. I can move the lease of the flat to your name, I— ”

Aelin shushed him “let’s just celebrate tonight.” He nodded and toasted to a new adventure.

Two weeks later

Aelin had begged Rowan to let her drive him to the airport. He had tried to convince her that he was happy to take a taxi, but Aelin had been stubborn and now she was helping him unload his luggage from the trunk of her car.

Her heart was racing. The previous night she had cried herself to sleep. The idea of him leaving her for good was killing her.

She accompanied him to check-in and forced herself to calm the tears that were now threatening to spill.

And when he started walking to the security area, the place where she knew she’d have to eventually say good bye to him, she froze.

Rowan noticed she had stopped “What’s wrong, fireheart?”

Aelin looked up at him, tears finally broke free “I love you.” She sobbed. “Rowan Whitethorn, I love you. You are the C to my G.” She let out a wet chuckle “not A since it cheats on T with U.”

Rowan laughed.

“What I am trying to say is that is you. Only you. And I know it’s the wrong time because you are going away to your dream job, but I had to tell you.” She was now sobbing and Rowan pulled her to his chest “you are the most amazing woman I ever met and I don’t deserve you.” He pulled back but kissed her on the forehead “be happy, Aelin.”

And he slowly walked away from her. Aelin watched at him disappear through the barriers. Never looking back. Aelin cried and cried. She stared at the screen watching the message switching from Boarding Now to Gate closed. She sat on a chair in the waiting are and let her desperation take over.

It was half an hour later when she heard a voice call her name. She hadn’t moved from her chair, she just could not leave.

It couldn’t be. He was on a plane.

She stood and turned and saw Rowan standing near the chair with his duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Rowan?” She breathed, her voice shaken by sobs “the plane.”

“I got off the plane.” He chuckled “and pissed off a lot of people since now they have to unload my luggage.”

“You got off the plane.”

He nodded again and took a step to her “I sat at my seat and all I could think was your confession. And realised that I have been an idiot.” He took her hand “I love you, Aelin. You are as well the C to my G. It took me almost to take off to realise it but better late than never.”

Aelin threw herself in his arms and he held her tight “and where else will I find a woman who uses genetics for a love declaration? That was super hot.” Aelin chuckled while inhaling the scent of pine and snow that was so typically him “what about your job?”

Rowan shrugged “my boss was quite gutted at losing me. I guess they will be happy when I phone tomorrow and tell them that I am happy to go back if they still want me.”

“But—” Rowan shushed her with a kiss.

“No buts, I have no regrets. This is the right choice.” And he kissed her.

A few minutes later a voice called him “Mr Whitethorn.” He turned and saw an airport attendant carrying his luggage.

“Thank you, and I am sorry.”

The man grunted something and walked away.

Aelin grabbed one of the bags and his hand and they walked out.

“Let’s be clear, I blame oxytocin.”

Rowan stopped and pulled her to him and then lifted Aelin in his arms, not caring about all the hundreds of people around them.

“I love you, Aelin Galathynius.”

#rowaelinmonth #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #fluff

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annie-mit-ie · 3 years

Text

Glimpses: Part 12 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: Will you be able to go with Kathryn?

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is a little shorter, I know, but I hope all of you still enjoy it. Look at this little tag list we have going on now!! - I might actually get a little emotional that so many of you are still reading this little story. With all that being said, here we gooooo. xx

Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl

Don't forget to check out the new official Playlist! :)

_____________________________________________________________________________

“You can’t take her.” Jennifer is walking up and down in Kathryn’s office. She arrived here right after you had left, ready to plan to thrip to New York, as well as the upcoming project. Kathryn shifts her focus from her hand to her manager and huffs.

“NO. Kathryn, no. You know it yourself. First of all, she is a distraction. Yes, you like her, I KNOW, but this is not you. This is not how you do your job.” Jennifer looks at her boss with pleading eyes.

Running her fingers through her long mane, Kathryn bites the insides of her cheek. “you’re right, I know you are, but at the same time…”

“NO BUTS, Kathryn.” Jennifer interrupts her, prompting Kathryn to shoot her a short glare.

“…but at the same time I haven’t been this happy in years.” Thinking back at the time you spent with her, a small smile creeps onto her face.

Jennifer gets it. She understands Kathryn’s point, but as her manager it’s her job to secure the actress’ job, which is why she needs to make sure there are as few distractions from work as possible included in the trip.

Placing a hand on her arm, Jennifer looks at Kathryn with warm eyes. “Sweetie, I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it either, because I know how good the time with her is for your heart. But we can’t have this. Not now. Not during your shining moment. Yeah?”

Slowly but surely, Kathryn starts to nod as she can feel the sadness rise in her chest.

Meanwhile, you and Alex are having the same conversation back in your room. She tries to talk sense into you and talks animatedly to her phone, as you try to find a way to accompany Kathryn.

“Honey, you simply can’t. There is no way. It’s during the exam phase. You can’t be abroad for that.” She shakes her head.

Considering your options, you try to talk against her. “I could ask for online exams.”

“… there is a multiple hour time difference - you can’t be serious, Y/N.”

“I could postpone exams?” You raise an eyebrow.

Alex shakes her head harder now. “NO GIRL. No. Kathryn wouldn’t want you screwing up your education for this. You have leftover classes, exams to write and then you’ll have to write term papers you have to prepare for,” you take a visible breath. “Yes love, I am aware you could write those on set but we all know you wouldn’t. It’s better for you to stay.”

You want to argue. You really do. But there are a few things holding you back. First of all, you know Alex makes a valid point. Second of all, you don’t even know where you are standing with Kathryn. What are you to her? What is happening with her? The lines are so blurry that it’s hard for you to see, so you think it might be better not to assume and make a fuss about all of it.

Lastly, you don’t even know if she wants to have you by her side in the first place, because, again, it’s not like she is your girlfriend or anything. Not that you wouldn’t want her to be.

So, just like Kathryn does with Jennifer, you agree to what Alex says and make your decision to stay, even though it hurts your heart just as much as it hurts hers.

Given the fact, that she has to leave for New York right the next morning, it’s not possible for you to see her again. You think back at the soft kiss she planted on your lips as you left her house under yesterday’s hot afternoon sun. You feel so good with her and you can’t stop to think back at how beautiful her eyes look up close - even more beautiful than on all her pictures that Alex and you have been sending back and forth whenever Kathryn did a new promo shoot.

It’s late afternoon as you’re lying on your bed and stare at the ceiling, a random Marvel movie running in the background. Alex has been trying to hype you up all day, but, given the fact that Kathryn is gone for an unforeseen time, you still feel sad.

You turn off the movie because you can’t seem to concentrate and connect your phone to the speakers to play some music. You remember that you can sit on your windowsill that’s facing the backyard and and decide to sit down and watch the birds in the tree outside your window as you open Spotify and it starts playing the last song you stopped on. “She” by dodie fills the room and you don’t think you related to a song like that ever before.

It really describes the feelings of uncertainty that you have right now. It doesn’t help that you never really took the chance to talk to her about all of not. Not properly, at least. This mistake leaves you with this endless feeling of emptiness that seems like it’s eating you up from the inside as you don’t even know if she feels the same in any way.

Your phone chimes and you nearly fall off the windowsill as you shoot up to reach for it. It’s the group chat you thought had died a while ago that you joined right after Kathryn appeared on Wandavision.

Apparently, news of Kathryn’s casting already sank through and everyone is screaming about it. Unwilling to share any knowledge, and also way too careful with it, you want to put your phone away as it chimes again and your eyes widen.

You immediately click the message.

“New York is wild! Haven’t had time to get to you yet. Seems like everyone and their mom wants to speak to me today. Just left my second meeting and now I have to leave for a work dinner in a few. How’s the day going back home? xxx K.”

A bright smile creeps onto your face as you realize she uses the “everyone and their mom” phrase that you use so much whenever you describe difficult situations to her. You decide not to reply immediately - you don’t want her to assume you are sitting on your phone just waiting for her.

Instead you opt to create some art and grab your supplies. There is an empty canvas behind your bed and you feel like there are enough feelings trapped in you to create something cool on it.

Your mom works long on Mondays, so you haven't realized just how much time has passed as you perform the last of the night and call it a day. Your picture is colorful. Very much so. The acrylic paint hasn’t even dried yet, but there are already tons of ideas floating around in your head about what to do with the artwork from here on out. Maybe you should get some fine liners and work out the edges, maybe do some highlighting as well, you don't know yet.

Just as you want to put the brush aside your phone lights up on your bed. You can't pick it up just now because the slowly drying paint sticks to your fingers and you anxiously reach for the closest paper towel to white it off as best as you can. Not expecting anything, you finally reach for your phone and pick up the call before reading the name - an automatic reaction to late night calls from Alex.

You are greeted by a very familiar, yet unexpected, face. Kathryn smiles into the camera and adjusts the lights around her. She is clearly in her pjs, with no make up on, her hair open and messy, falling off her shoulder. You can see she is wearing a loose gray shirt and your whole body starts tingling as you realize it's the shirt she gave you to sleep in last weekend. Immediately, your brain runs wild and you try to figure out if she packed this exact shirt on purpose or just grabbed the one that was available easiest as she was probably in a rush.

Luckily, Kathryn interrupts your train of thought. “Hey! Hiya hon! I just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re alright because you haven’t replied to my message.”

For the first time you look at the clock. It’s 8.30pm and you haven’t had dinner yet.

“Shit.”, you mutter and your hand flies to cover your mouth immediately.

Kathryn, who hasn’t heard your muttering, looks confused. “Sweetheart, is everything alright?”

You smile thankfully. “Yes! Yes it is. I guess I was just wrapped up in my art and you pulled me out of it and I always need a minute to adjust. I’m fine. It’s late though and I haven’t eaten yet. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Good. Do you want me to order you pizza or something. Because I totally would.” She reaches for a notepad.

“Alright Mom…” she looks at you for a moment and you can’t tell if she is shocked or amused or anything really because she stopped reacting completely and just stares at you. Right when you are about to start panicking about the situation she bursts into laughter.

“I mean I’M SORRY. How dare I offer pizza.” She continues laughing. You love this. This is easy and light and you realize once again just how much you enjoy her company. Gosh, you miss her already.

You remember her message as you make your way downstairs. “How was dinner, Kathryn? And the rest of your day? Tell me about it!”

For the next 10 minutes, as you prepare your own dinner, she tells you about her day and the plans for the next few weeks. The two of you laugh and make jokes and for a moment it seems like both of you have forgotten that you won’t see each other for a while. After she finishes talking, you fall into a comfortable silence and just look and smile at each other for a moment.

“I like you, you know?” She is the one to interrupt the silence. “Spending time with you makes me really happy and I’m sad you can’t come to Europe with me. I need you to know. I wish I could’ve taken you with me.”

Your heart melts and your hands start to shake as you realize Kathryn might indeed feel the same way. You put the knife, that’s in your hand from making dinner, aside. You’re unable to answer right away and fight for the right words, so she continues on with her short monologue.

“I just wanted to call tonight to check in and see how you are doing since I had to kick you out so abruptly last night and maybe we can do this from time to time, check in on each other? I would love that.”

Check in on each other? Why is she so vague all the time? For a moment you thought she’d confess her feelings for you but here you are again, uncertain of what she really thinks about you. You smile, though, and try to keep it calm because you don’t want her to get annoyed with you already.

You realize it’s getting close to 9pm, which means it should be about midnight at her place. Taking responsibility, you send her off to sleep and have a short dinner followed by some reading yourself.

Before Kathryn hangs up, she promises you to call again before leaving for Europe completely. She also wants to know if you want a souvenir from NYC (why is she so cute?) and tells you to call her anytime you need something or someone. With that, she shoots you the brightest smile and leaves you to it.

The ecstatic feeling you felt when you talked to her fades quickly as you come down from the call. Suddenly, your home feels all quiet and lonely and the silence is killing you. You walk back up to your room to sit on your bed and stare out of your window to enjoy the night sky. The tree right next to your room is slowly moving in the wind as its branches scratch the glasses surface.

You decide to call it a day as the week ahead is full of work and school and the weekend was eventful, so you change into comfy clothes and get ready for bed immediately. You fall onto your bed a few minutes later just as your phone lights up again.

"Good night, Sweetheart. It was great seeing your face. xxx K."

#kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn x reader #Kathryn Hahn x You #Kathryn Hahn fan fiction #Kathryn Hahn Fanfiction #groupie #groupie au

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kireiwoo · 3 years

Text

[12:37am] # choi jongho.

“have you ever been surfing before?” you shake your head dumbly at the attractively muscular surf instructor’s question, drool accumulating under your tongue as he pushes his silky, dampened blonde hair back with the help of his veiny hand for the nth time today. your eyes are trained solely on the way his multicoloured wetsuit clings to the curve of his waist, a towel sinched attentively on the dip of his hip as he leans from one foot to another restlessly. choi jongho, you recall his name is; an awfully teasing and unbelievably strong surf instructor, but a damned good one at that. you’d seen him countless times before, teaching from children to relatively elder people the art of surfing—but you’d never personally interacted.

“well, i’ll have to show you the basics then, y/n.” your name sounded heavenly rolling off his tongue, and in spite of the awkward atmosphere, you smile for a split second before returning to your awestruck phase. he seemed pleased with his ability to render you silent with just a few words, his domineering prance to the countless lined surfboards making you meekly cower behind him. he hands you pink and yellow hibiscus-designed board, winking before retrieving his own one, and it feels like your soul has been practically revitalized from its cavern of hopeless romantic despair.

one thing that drastically separates him from the other lanky surfers is the buffed mass built on his body; his biceps are sculpted perfectly and abs poking through the thinness of his black wetsuit, and he stands tall as he waits for you to girlishly stumble over, cheeks burning and eyes dizzy from both the summer heat and his own blazing warmth. you offer a blanched smile, raising a hand to tenderly wipe the sweat drenching your forehead before attentively listening to his brisk instructions. his voice is endearingly high, like a grotesque rendition of a part-time schoolboy, but the smoothness of his curt instructive procedures calms the rapid beating of your heart; just listening to how he drones about his past experience and what to look out for.

it’s only when he stops speaking, gazing at you awkwardly that you realize you’d zoned out for the practical majority of his speech. something about how sea turtles were bizarrely frequent was the last sentence you’d coherently understood, but there was no remembrance to the actual information he supplied; and not wanting to make a fool out of yourself, you stiffly nod, pretending as if this prelude to your impending embarrassment was nonexistent.

and similarly to how you’d predicted, you ended up flunking and snubbing yourself vastly when attempting to surf. the ten-minute educational video about surfing you’d priorly researched was the basis of your attempts, and solid try after try, you failed in succeeding. noticing your perpetual struggle, jongho approaches you with a flurry of adorable bounces in his step; and whether it be the clustered shine from the water or the sheer determination bubbling in him, you could tell he was eager to help.

“you’re holding the board wrong—are you alright?” you gulp at his question, not physically responding but squeaking at his abrupt presence, “the preface of my entire instructional was about how to properly handle a board.” he chuckles as you pale considerably.

“i know it’s nerve-wracking; there’s so many circumstances in which this could end up negatively but y’know what, i believe in you! just keep trying!” his encouragement strikes a cord in you, making you feel unprecedented guilt for genuinely not paying your full respect to his teachings. receiving empathy was the last thing you deserved right now and you intended on informing him of your misleading mistakes. as he raves on more about how to hold the board, you clear your throat; his cheeks darken a tint and you wonder if he feels dismayed for bombarding you with loads of questionably useful statistics. clearly, he has a lot of knowledge and little space to exude it.

“i—um... sorry, this is probably extremely unprofessional, but i kind of zoned out earlier on account of...” you mumble the continuation shortly, squeezing the fabric of your swim gear impulsively. the action is shy enough to alert him that whatever you said might’ve been sensitive or out of anxiety, and although jongho hates to force you out of your comfort zone, his curiosity is insatiable.

“on account of what?” he echoes, a perplexed brow raising. his confusion makes you flustered as you recognize that you have to repeat the rather petulant phrasing you’d used earlier; but this was an invitation for honesty, and you’d use it wisely. “on account of my... uh—i guess you could say it’s a crush?—on you.” flabbergasted in silence, you frivolously panic over his lack of response—lack of movement; hell, he’d practically frozen, appearance glacial and destitute of emotion. perhaps you’d gotten a tad too zealous, using this opportunity too freely without conscience of filtering your words. maybe he was creeped out? of course, he’d only prospectively met you an hour ago, exchanging handshakes with the promise of professionalism and pledges to do your best.

although jongho would never confess or admit to it, he’s noticed you quite a few times as well. the consistency in your cutely obvious stares arose some sort of blushy lustre on his countenance, and he oftentimes found himself victim to stuttering whenever he felt that same admirable gaze boring interestedly into the back of his head. he’d taken notice to how you scheduled your time at the beach specifically to his shifts, and contrary to popular opinion, whereas people would find this dedication obsessive or unlawfully desperate, he found some sort of zeal in your commitment. that perhaps you didn’t just view him as some temporary piece of eye-candy to come and go, only to find purpose in staring at a random other beefy hunk. perhaps it was because he was deprived of his own romanticism, but he’d developed a slight crush on you as well. and while he had his suspicions of your feelings, there were lingering inklings of doubt shovelled somewhere in his brain—hearing this confession just made everything so... bright.

colours popped and the water was suddenly warm; the skies were perfect and the clouds appearing fluffy as wool. jongho felt a spark of electricity surge through him followed by a dull buzzing that lit his lower stomach. his face was vacant of emotion but the energy bulldozing through him was comparable to lightening. the water swished against your surf board, creating a satisfying sound effect as you gradually felt the anticipation eat away until you were left disappointed. but before you could squabble away, jongho had already wrapped his hand around your wrist, securing the grip with a gentle, complacent squeeze.

“you’re right—this is probably one of the most unprofessional things in the book, but... i, me—i kind of have a... tiny crush on you too.” he looked away after the exposition, teeth impulsively biting his lip even though you’d already confirmed your own feelings. your heart stuttered momentarily and in a fit of joy, you’d tackled jongho straight into the pearlescent water, eyes pure with happiness and smile contagious.

choi jongho is a part-time surf instructor; he works mondays to fridays and generously shows up for work on volunteered, non-paid shifts simply because he loves his job. he enjoys recanting stories of past bizarre experiences and he loves the ocean above all—however, he wouldn’t mind bending a few expectations and rules simply to appease his infatuation, and although it was completely unprofessional, maybe he could teach you how to surf outside of work? or catch dinner by the bay? maybe even watch those darned sea turtles toddle up to the shore to greet the locals, but whenever and whatever it was, he knew he would have a partner in crime now—and you knew that you’d have a talkative yet awkward sweetheart to lug around with you; perhaps, things really did work out in the end.

#ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez timestamp #ateez crack #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #jongho x reader #jongho smut #jongho fluff #jongho angst #jongho reaction #jongho timestamp #jongho scenario #jongho drabble #ateez reaction #cjh : jjong!#@ficscafe

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

12:54 am || kozume kenma

➵ some important introductions are finally made.

wc: 1496

warnings: gn!reader, kenma is a youtube g*mer

a/n: gracie dear, this one is for you! i remember you saying you were looking forward to it. you’re one of the loveliest people i’ve chatted to on here and you have such a kind and gentle heart. thank you for having such an accepting and calming vibe and you’re so so easy to talk to, it’s very relaxing! your blog is such a positive space you and you make me feel the big ❤️ bless your dear heart, and i hope that november is kind to you!

The sun is long gone, the sky above Tokyo draped with velvet midnight. It looks like the kind of night you’d want to go out and experience, to walk around the ever-bustling city centre, to watch the sky in the hope of seeing something that’ll make your heart stutter in your chest.

But you don’t have the energy for that this evening.

Your honours project is sucking all it can out of you. You’re not surprised, of course, but that doesn’t make the experience any less irritating. You’re at that point where you just need to push a little more and polish it off; but as always, that’s the hardest part. Trying to thread together every section into something that’s not only coherent, but also of passable quality is harder than you’d given it credit for.

It’s the time of night when your eyes feel like they’re about to dribble out of their sockets like candle wax, and you’re aware that you’re not going to get anything of substance done now. You sigh, squinting at your laptop screen.

12:54 AM.

You blink your sore eyes rapidly. Was it really that late?

You stretch your arms above your head, feeling the strain in your muscles. You want nothing more than to curl up in bed with your boyfriend, letting the stresses of the day fade away as you run your fingers through his hair. He usually lets you at this hour, melting into your touch in a way he wouldn’t usually during the day.

It’s much too late for you to get anything of worth down for this assignment.

As you stand up, you swear you can hear every bone in your body crack. You don’t just want to go to bed, you need to get some rest.

But there’s no way you’re going alone.

You totter down the hall as quietly as you can, balancing yourself on your tiptoes. Kenma’s gaming room sits at the end of the hall, chosen for its decent acoustics and spaciousness. You tease him for his set up all the time – ‘epic gamer’ is your favourite moniker, and currently crowns your LINE messages.

You and Kuroo had even made him a little sign for his birthday. It’s a plaque stuck to the door that reads, “WARNING! Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my Epic Gamer moment.”

You grin at it as the door creaks open.

Kenma’s clicking away on his computer as he sits at his desk, eyes narrowed and a little pout on his lips. You smile to yourself; he looks so cute like this, so focused and intense. He doesn’t tend to get like this about anything else, but gaming had a way of drawing the intensity out of him.

You can’t help but wonder if he was like this during his volleyball days in high school, analysing the court in the moment. You’ve never seen him play, and you doubt you ever will. He pays Hinata to do that, after all. You’re glad that such a bright boy is part of your boyfriend’s life. Between you, Kuroo, and Hinata, there’s no fear of Kenma going unloved.

You give him a small wave from the door.

Recognition flashes in his eyes as he catches sight of you, the smallest of smiles gracing his face. Someone outside of your relationship might assume that doesn’t count for much; a tiny, forgettable little gesture that isn’t worth taking note of. But you know how to read Kenma.

His gaze flicks back to his screen.

“You all want to know that bad, huh?” He teases, even though his voice is still monotone.

‘Know what?’ you mouth.

“They want to know what made me smile,” Kenma tilts his head at you, and you swear your heart is about to bloom into a kaleidoscope of light.

You nod, tottering over to him as he rolls his chair back. He’s left just enough space for you to sit. You settle yourself down on his lap like it’s second nature, and he loops his arms around your waist. Usually, that wouldn’t make you blush. But, knowing a significant portion of his viewership were watching this happen in real time brings a certain nervousness to mind.

He props his chin on your shoulder, as he always does. For once, he’s more casual than you; he’s in his element, immersed in a game and bolstered by people who adore him. It’s all you could want for him.

“Yeah, this is my partner,” he hums, small smile playing at his lips.

You see the chat rush by on the corner of his screen, but you opt not to look. Doing so would only make you more nervous.

“They want to know how long we’ve been together,” he says, conspicuously dropping the question in your lap.

You grin, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “Officially, two years,” you smile. “But basically three.”

He chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “They also want to know how we met.”

“I was Kuroo’s roommate in university,” you say, well-aware of Kuroo’s much-loved presence on Kenma’s channel. “He decided I’d be a good friend for Kenma so he wrestled me into their little duo. He likes to say that us getting together was part of his plan all along, but I have my doubts.”

In all honesty, you’re surprised by how relaxed your reveal is. You’ve been worried about it for the past year, fearing the backlash that romantic partners of youtubers – especially gaming Youtubers – tend to receive.

Kenma had told you it would be okay, that you won’t have anything to worry about.

It feels nice, just sitting in his lap, getting to be part of this little world of his.

You stay for the next fifteen minutes or so, answering a myriad of questions pinged your way; was Kenma the same as he is in his videos? Does he ever sleep? Do you game with him much? Does he go easy on you in 1-v-1’s or is he ruthless?

“Thanks everyone,” Kenma yawns, propping his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve run over time, but you guys did a great job today.”

You bite back a giggle as you listen to his ‘Youtuber Outro Voice,’ which was just a shade brighter than his normal cadence.

You sit patiently as he wraps up, mentioning something about his next upload and the charity this stream was for. You know it’s got something to do with ensuring that children with disabilities are offered opportunities to take part in sports, and to help schools accommodate for that. You’re pretty sure Kuroo’s the one who linked your boyfriend up with them; you often teased him for ‘exploiting’ kodzuken’s following for charity.

Kenma clicks off the stream, letting out a long sigh as his shoulders deflate.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, nestling his face in the crook of your neck.

You giggle, reaching a hand back to smooth his hair. The angle’s a little awkward and your fingers bump against his headset, but you don’t mind.

“Did you raise a lot of money?” You ask, shifting in his lap so you can see his face.

He nods. “Not as much as the collab with Shouyou and Kuroo, but a fair bit.”

“Good,” you smile. He looks exhausted; he often does after long charity streams. But you know he cares about them – he wouldn’t bother with them otherwise. You gently slip his headset off – you bought them for him as a one-year-anniversary present, a cute, high-tech thing with cat ears – and place it gently on his desk.

You run your fingers through his hair, gently grazing his scalp. He hums in response, letting his eyes flutter shut. It’s like all the tension is melting away under your fingers, as if you’ve brought him a moment of precious reprieve. He never complains about his work – not in any real capacity, anyway – but even he got tired of his job.

As you gaze at his face, you’re content in the knowledge that you don’t need to flit amongst the city or watch the sky to see something that’ll make your heart stutter. He’s right in front of you.

“Hey, Kenma?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

The words flutter between you, threading a proper smile across his face. He doesn’t need to say them back to know your feelings are reciprocated; Kenma isn’t a man of many words, and his affection doesn’t tend to come out in grand statements or confessions. His love is in the little gestures; in a gentle kiss to the nose, or his fingers laced through yours, or permission to be part of his little world.

His love is shy, gentle, purposeful. You know he struggles to let people in. To let himself be seen. But he opens his windows for you, lets you filter through like the sunrise.

It’s all he’s capable of giving; but he gives it all with a quiet thoughtfulness.

And that’s more than enough.

#kenma x reader #kozume kenma x reader #kenma x you #kozume kenma x you #haikyuu x reader #fluffvember 2020

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