#i figured out im too lazy for actual scripting half the time

[sukiglycerin]

it takes two || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst

* words: 1,647

* warnings: brief fighting scene (implied), swearing (duh), a lil bit of insecure katsuki but ofc comfort after, reader is mentioned to be in the hero business field, KATSUKI WEARS SHOES IN THE HOUSE !!! can you believe the audacity-

* original request:  Hello dear :)) Can I request a Bakugou x reader fic where he gets hit by a clone quirk and the clone is like the complete opposite of him, personality-wise, and Bakugou frequently loses his temper because the clone keeps hitting on his s/o I am sorry for bothering you :(

* a/n: you? bother me? never. actually, i’m sorry this took so long to complete! i’m hoping i can restart a consistent posting schedule soon. happy early birthday bakugou! this is my gift :) i hope you all enjoy~ i love @toishi for proofreading this T^T

it’s a lazy day for you. all you’ve been doing is sleeping, waking up occasionally to eat, and indulging in six different rhythm games despite your lack of rhythm, it’s a good day, snuggled up under the mountains of fuzzy blankets and squished in between soft pillows on your bed, your favorite song quietly playing from your phone on your nightstand. natural light fills your otherwise unlit room, curtains pushed aside to let the sun shine in her full glory. time is idle in this sanctuary of yours for only today; whether a minute or an hour has passed is something out of your concern. 

there’s nothing different when bakugou comes home, the jingle of keys and click of the door telling you that it’s him. he’s oddly quiet, though, and for a second you’re almost wondering why he hasn’t yelled “i’m home, dumbass!” before said blond peeks his head into the room. 

“hey, love,” he flashes a rare smile. it’s kind, like the soft light of the sun you've become so acquainted with. “i’m home.”

“hey?” you sit up, propping the pillows behind you so you can comfortably lean against the headboard of your bed. “you feeling alright?”

you expect a gruff reply of “the fuck are you talking about?” and a scowl, but get the opposite. a pleasant expression graces katsuki's face, which makes him look more handsome than usual. his hair almost seems tame this way. he’s also uncharacteristically clean; his costume is usually dirt-treaded and at least a little battered whenever he returns from hero patrol. now, though? his outfit is pristine, as if pulled out from a laundromat and ironed professionally. there’s a ghost of a frown on your lips.

"i'm lovely, now that i can see you." the line is spoken like a sappy confession from the male lead of a k-drama; you'd laugh if it wasn't for your utter confusion about katsuki's sudden change in demeanor. his facial expression is twisted in such a gallant way that it arouses suspicion in you.

you’re opening your mouth to reply when there’s a startling crashing at the front door. katsuki’s face falls into downhearted dread, as if expecting the intrusion. his reaction surprises you more than the intrusion itself. the door slams shut in the distance, rattling the house. the sound of boots clomping against the hardwood floor frightens you as you thrust your warm sheets aside (alas, they could wait) and reach for your bat under the bed. katsuki only stares at you, transfixed, and you feel the slightest urge to clobber him with the weapon. why isn’t he ready to fight? you’re up and approaching the doorway of your bedroom when you stop in your tracks.

“hey, fucker!” a loud, abrasive voice yells from down the hallway. “i found ya!”

you recognize that timbre in an instant, then turn to look at katsuki, still standing at your bedside, with a questioning gaze. he’s wearing an expression you never thought you’d see your husband have - his eyes are wide, mouth agape like a deer in headlights.

despite this vote of inconfidence from him, you pad forward slowly, bat gripped tightly and slung over your shoulder. you plunge forward, passing the doorway and glancing left. a shadowy figure stands five feet from you, its stature menacing. you swing blindly, but you bat is only met with more air. the figure is a little bit further now - damnit, it had good reflexes.

“you could still use some work on that swing,” it lowly chuckles and confuses you. you squint, trying to make out who in the world this guy thinks he is to comment on your swing. you gasp, faltering your grip on the bat. 

“k-katsuki? what?”

“got hit with a stupid clone quirk on patrol,” this katsuki grumbles bitterly, stepping towards you. he’s dressed in his full hero costume, green grenadier bracers a tight fit in the narrow hallway. “i apprehended the guy but my clone won’t stop following me around. it’s stupidly fast, too, whenever i try to catch it.”

“....and,” you start, “how do i know that you’re not the clone?” you pretend to inspect him close, eyes slowly trailing from the tips of his spiky, golden hair to his black combat boots. (oh, man, you were going to yell at him about wearing shoes in the house later.)

“don’t start this inception bullshit with me now,” he groans. 

“what’s katsuki bakugou’s favorite food?” you question, though you have no doubt that this katsuki is the real one. 

“anything spicy,” he bemoans. “now, let me-”

“that was an easy one.” you shake your head. “what was the first idea katsuki bakugou had for a hero name idea instead of lord explosion murder?”

if you were in better light, you’re sure you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink. 

“mighty boom,” he mumbles. 

“sorry, what was that?” you tease.

“mighty boom!” he half-shouts, flustered.

“oh, okay, so you’re the real katsuki,” you say. “how do we defeat the clone?’

“according to the quirk user, it should disappear after two or three hours. but it can’t really do much harm, as long as it’s not in the sight of the user himself,” he says. “now let me at ‘im. he’s making a fool of myself.” 

he attempts to shove himself forward, but you stop him before he can see through the door frame. you glance at the clone, who’s looking at you with round, ruby eyes. he looks like a puppy with that innocent expression, and for a split second, you think that you actually might miss the calm, charming air of this katsuki. turning back to the real katsuki, who pretends not to notice the shift in your eyes, you exhale. 

“have at it, but take it outside first, please. i can’t have you tracking in more dirt.” you look to the dirt-ridden footprints behind him on the wooden flooring, sighing.

but in a flash he’s past you - wow, you really weren’t blocking him at all before, were you? - outfit a blur of black, green, and orange as he seizes the clone, slings it over his shoulder like it's made of air, and vanishes past you and out the door. he seldom leaves a trace of dirt, this time, smooth maneuvering himself outside while the clone bids you one last pleading farewell.

you hear blasting, yelling, and yelps, the lattermost presumably the clone’s, barely muffled from your position inside. your first thought wonders what the neighbors will think. you glance one last time at the tracks of katsuki’s boots then turn back to your room. he’d have to mop up that mess later. 

ten minutes and an eternity later, katsuki returns inside. by the pause at the front door, you figure one of two things: katsuki’s either taking the time to take off his shoes and put them away properly or staring at the filth he left on the floor. you’re hoping it’s the former. his footsteps are light as he goes to fetch a mop and clean the mess.

finished, he shuffles into your shared room and briefly looks at your comfortable position on the bed.

“what?” you whine. “hero business is hard. i needed a day off.”

this earns a laugh from the man, who’s in the process of removing his gauntlets and stowing them away. he shrugs off the rest of his costume, opting for much more comfortable attire and dropping his mask on a dresser. 

“how was your day?” you ask when he snuggles next to you on the bed. he’s sweaty and smells deeply of caramel, but you’ll nag him to shower later. the wear shows in his eyes and movement, sluggish after a long day of work. 

“good,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “except for that clone bastard.”

you hum, joking, “he was charming, though.”

when he looks up at you with a vulnerable look in his eyes, you regret it.

“did you… really like him that much?” his voice is hoarse, scarcely a whisper. he averts his eyes, fiddling with the hem of your shirt sleeve.

“of course not,” you reply tenderly, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. he still can’t look you in the eyes.

“you know you’ll always be number one in my heart, right? even if you’re not the number one hero, you’re the constant in my heart.” you touch your chest, right over your heart. 

“y-you sure?” his words crackle like dying embers, inconsistent and unstable, flakes of lit ash that weakly dissipate into the atmosphere. a waning fire is still warm, though; with a bit of oxygen it can be rejuvenated, relit, and burn bright once again. 

“am i one to be wrong?” you ask him, and he faintly shakes his head. “i fell in love with you not for your looks, katsuki… i don’t want a disney prince. i want you, not some fairytale guy.”

“i yell, and i’m brash-”

you cut him off, chuckling, “and that’s what i love about you. you don’t-” you make a vague gesture with your hands, then drop them, unsure how to articulate your thoughts. “you don’t care what people think. you’re unapologetically… you.”

“you sure?” katsuki tries again. “that- that guy, that thing- you sure you don’t prefer a guy that’ll buy you roses with a note on the tag that says ‘you are the most beautiful flower in my garden’ in fancy cursive script on it?”

“do people really do that?” you frown. “i mean, i hope no guy does that for me-” katsuki exhales a breath of relief. you look at him questioningly but don’t press the issue. 

“i love you, katsuki,” you finish, “and no shitty clone will ever change that. ever.”

while he showers, katsuki’s thankful that he burned the roses from some secret admirer he found in your shoe locker during your high school days. 

[indipindy16]

Heyyyyy, so about that doc with the AU ideas.... (Please feed me I yearn for content)

im obsessed with the idea of monoma and aizawa being related to afo lol. you only see like 3 quirks in the whole series that are based on other quirks - what i would call ‘meta quirks,’ that would only have any function in a world of quirked people. so ofc these 3 quirks have to be related:

afo decided to have a bunch of kids, to see if he could make noumus out of them which retained their brains after being given a bunch of quirks. he impregnated a bunch of women lol, but he kept tabs on them. as soon as the kids turned 4 and presented their quirk, they would be kidnapped by the doctor and brought into the lab. most of the kids had quirks based on quirks (seeing quirks, stealing quirks, copying quirks, erasing quirks…) and are various ages. aizawa, monoma and midoriya were some of them, but aizawa got saved by his badass mother when he was still a kid, so he was already gone by the time midoriya and monoma came around. the two of them manage to escape while afo is still recovering from his fight with all might, and since monoma’s mother was killed by afo, he goes to live with midoriya and his mother. they go off the grid and run away from afo. in this au midoriya is quirkless, up until he meets all might and it goes as usual. umm could be from monoma’s pov, and include monoshin because that’s cute. basically after the sports festival, afo finds monoma again and in the summer camp they kidnap him instead of bakugou. (the reason why aizawa was never caught or taken back by afo is because he won the whole sports fest and became too famous/well protected to be easily stolen back - since monoma didn’t make the fight rounds, he’s a perfect target. afo only knew the kids by their quirks, he never actually met them, so he doesn’t realise that midoriya is one of his kids as well because mido has a quirk now.) anyway so after they kidnap monoma back, he and midoriya spill the beans to the ua faculty, aizawa has a midlife crisis over the fact that he now has younger siblings, and afo continues to be a dick who doesn’t pay child support.

just some sweets stuff as well:

Christmas cake: Japanese slang for an unmarried woman over 25 who is considered undesirable as a wife, in the same way that Christmas cakes are considered useless after Christmas Day.

Good thing for Jirou, she never cared much about being ‘desirable’ to the opposite sex anyway.

-> a momojirou story about jirou’s 26th birthday and momo reassuring her that she is the best gf ever, and that she loves her very much. pro hero gfs <3

*

like. the trope of aizawa adopting shinsou? well what about instead… hawks adopting tokoyami?? maybe he comes from a super religious family and they tried to exorcise the ‘demon’ from him, protective services put him in the foster system, and he ends up with really shitty foster families, and his quirk is considered ‘dangerous.’ but then our boy hawks swoops in and goes ‘u know what? i’m not letting my intern get disrespected like this’ and adopts him. obviously hawks is still young himself (22 i think), so he’s not very good at the whole parenting thing, but miruko helps him out. he becomes an older brother figure for tokoyami. gen found family fluff ensues

*

bEST JEANIST AS A TEENAGE FASHION ICON

thats it, thats the idea

*

HAIKYUU AU - no quirks. just volleyball

so the ua boys volleyball team is on the rocks. its been pretty much non-existent and turned to dust at this point. but, it once own the nationals.

izuku’s mum runs this second hand / antique / trinket store, and izuku helps out sometimes. one day, he finds some old sports tapes in the back and watches them - they’re of the year when ua was at nationals, and their striker, yagi toshinori, inspires izuku to play volleyball.

bakugo is on the school team and he threatens / bullies izuku not to join, so izuku has to train on his own. he learns shitty technique, but he ends up building some muscle by clearing out the beach.

izuku gets into ua, and when he goes to apply for the volleyball team, ofc bakugo picks a fight. the other first-years who join the team are todoroki, kaminari, shinsou, kirishima, and iida. there aren’t any second years - they all got expelled - but mirio and tamaki are on the team as third years, and nejirou is the team manager. their teacher sponsor is a new teacher this year, and it’s left ambiguous. there’s the whole ‘get over ur differences if u want to join’ thing, and then woohoo! team!

turns out their teacher sponsor is aizawa. he drags in the now-retired-due-to-injury yagi toshinori to be the coach. when aizawa went to ua, the volleyball team was too small to go to any tournaments - he’s determined to turn it around and let these kids live their dreams.

some ‘canon? what’s that?’ ideas:

just a really wholesome story about inko and mitsuki being besties. met in middle school or something, supported each other through everything… just gals being the best of pals...

or i mean u could make it gay, that’s always an option (and have izuku and katsuki grow up as actual bros, and actually be friendly to one another? what a shocker) - like, the two of them get sperm donors and are pregnant at the same time so the kids can be twins or something. and ofc you’d expect katsuki to be closest to mitsuki and for inko to be closest to izuku, but then to make it a TWIST add some great bonding between inko + katsuki and mitsuki + izuku!! i’ve never really seen any mitsuki + izuku bonding in stories before, so that’d be pretty cool

*

izuku gets hit by a villain’s quirk during a big villain attack when he’s 7, turning him part-cat. the villain dies during the attack, so they can’t erase his quirk’s effects - they’d have to surgically remove the ears and tail, or get an expensive quirk specialist in. izuku decides he likes being a nekomimi, so he keeps them and gets being part-cat officially registered as his quirk. he has better senses and agility, and he can talk to cats now i guess. also his eyes are cat eyes. he doesn’t pass the ua exam, so he goes into the general department instead, but he does really well in the sports festival and gets transferred into the hero course with shinsou. (this is all just because i need a valid excuse to make izuku have cat ears.)

some ‘future au’ ideas:

all of the pro heroes merch lines - deku’s ’t-shirt’ shirts, tokoyami’s edgy emo/goth hoodies, iida’s ingenium trainers, bakugou’s popping candy chocolate, todoroki’s own brand of scar cream, HAGAKURE’S CAMO COLLECTION OMG the possibilities are endless  

---i made hagakure’s camo for her bday drawing

(i use a strikethrough so i know which ideas i’ve used or posted anywhere. i think that once i put an idea on the internet, it’s probably free reign, so if you want to use any of these for fics or art go ahead. i’d just appreciate it is you could link back to me haha)

5 years after graduating from the General Studies department of UA, Hitoshi opened his own agency. As a private detective.

By the time he’s 25, he’s settled in and relatively comfortable with his career choice. So when his work phone rings one day and he’s still half-asleep he easily opens with, “Shinsou Detective Agency. Before you ask, I do not investigate cheating spouses or missing dogs and I do not screen potential employees for companies.” He paused. “I’ll investigate missing cats, though.”

The person on the other end took a harsh breath, like an almost-laugh, and responded gruffly, “Hm. Good to know if Jelly ever gets lost.”

-> aka shinsou is a PI and aizawa contacts him for help on a case. aizawa never sought out shinsou after the sports festival, being too busy with 1-a’s insane antics, and so shinsou went on to never become a hero. maybe he’s also a vigilante on the side? idk. anyway so yeah aizawa gives him temporary permission to use his quirk during the case. they investigate, blah blah, the point is that afterwards aizawa gets shinsou a licence and takes him on as a sidekick (the same way ingenium offered to koichi in vigilantes)

i have new ideas on the daily. this doc is just growing

keep in mind, i have given to you here only a few of the shortest ones. there are several huge paragraphs of full-au ideas (like where izuku has a quirk, and the entire story follows canon)

these are, ostensibly, ideas for fics that i never write because i’m lazy. but some of them i do end up using for art or comics, so... yeah. most of the comics i’ve posted were originally just little scripts in this doc. an example:

yamada and reformed!shirakumo are walking together, with coffees

shirakumo: so then i - oh, your phone’s wringing

(yamada’s ringtone is the nyancat song, and the contact name is ‘daddy’)

shirakumo: haha, you still call ur dad ‘daddy’? i thought you got over that in high school (taking a sip on the coffee)

yamada: (answering the phone, keeping eye contact with shirakumo) hey, shouta, what’s up?

shirakumo: (spits out coffee)

—- made this a comic on tumblr

damn this post is longer than i expected

whelp, i hope you liked it

[jj-ktae]

Erotica - Part 4 - (M)

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader Genre: SMUT Summary: You’re a rookie porn actress on the rise and everything goes well until you get offered a role in a big-budget porn movie, starring the most famous actor in the porn industry. Words: 4758 Warning: Read at your own risk Lots of love for @demongyeom who beta-ed this for me because i’m a mess  <3

- Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Epilogue -

- Part 4 - 

“Just this time, please. Save us.” Your manager tries everything. Apparently, he just received a call about one of the actress being sick and cancelling on a short scene. No one is available, half of them being busy and having no time to film today. “It’s not going to take long, it’s a quickie but we need it for the website, we’ve been teasing this for so long.”

You sigh, eyes scanning through the new lines of the scene the director wants you to film again. They called you yesterday, claiming that you need to redo a couple of talk scenes with Jaebum.

This movie is never going to end.

“But I’m stuck here, we don’t even know when we’ll be done!” Maybe it’s going to discourage him. Maybe he will give up and ask someone else because you really don’t want to run around for one thirty minutes scene when you were initially supposed to rest today.

“I called the director, he said they can come. The studio is okay with lending us a space to film. You only need to agree and I promise I’ll pay you back for that. If we don’t help we’ll be in trouble, you know how the boss works.” He speaks fast, already grabbing his phone because now you’re doomed, you can’t reject the idea for you have no other arguments.

“Fine.” You’re already exhausted. Today was an off day. How come you ended with re-filming scenes plus doing a quickie?

“Great, thanks, I swear I owe you big time, Y/N.” he flies away, smile carnivorous and you know he is going to get big money for what he just did.

A head pops from behind the door, apologetic. “Miss Y/N, we’ll start soon.”

You nod their way, walking away and grabbing the new script you have yet to memorize before you start.

It’s only a couple of scenes. The director said he wasn’t satisfied with the way it was filmed and grabbed the opportunity to change the script. You received a call yesterday night which made you cancel your initial plan to visit your mother.

You don’t see Im Jaebum. Actually, you didn’t even catch a glimpse of his lazy figure ever since you arrived. He usually sits in a corner, concentrated yet idle, with headphones and sometimes carrying a book. Today he is nowhere to be found and you let a sigh of relief at the thought.

When you started filming this movie, your wrath toward Im Jaebum was stronger than the plague. His behaviour and cockiness made you think of him as nothing but an arrogant guy with a thick dick and no compassion for anyone that isn’t him.

He acted like you were going to ruin his career, like you were a greedy girl rebelling against a wealthy family and taking the job lightly.

With time he became less hostile, even friendly as he often sat back to chit-chat with you. He shared a bit of his real personality, which you found to be rather opposite to what he had shown so far. He wasn’t that much into sex as you thought he would, his main topics revolving around music and walks around town.

Im Jaebum revealed to be warmer with time. He wasn’t keen on being officially sweet, his smiles more teasing than cute in your opinion.

Yet he felt comfortable as time passed.

The sex scenes were less of a showdown and softer. Jaebum allowed himself to let his guards down, movements now composed and understanding. It helped greatly, turning the crazy adventure into something less annoying and as much as you would like to be satisfied with his new self, something feels off.

Something feels off because you’re starting to enjoy this. You never truly enjoyed a sex scene. You had your fun moments with co-actors who actually made you feel more at ease with the task at hand, but never to the point of enjoying the ministrations.

Maybe it’s because he is a professional. Im Jaebum is very famous in the porn industry even though he barely appears in sex related media. Maybe it’s why he is famous. He must be one hell of a good actor if he can make you believe that he cares.

This is why you refuse to speak to him more than necessary. Your last sex scene in the shower turned out to be very productive, tearing a very strong and realistic orgasm from a very intimate Jaebum; and pulling your barriers down.

So naturally, you decide to stay away from any trouble. Im Jaebum is nothing but talented at what he does which has nothing to do with you, hence, you shouldn’t even think about how he might be genuinely affectionate.

But you know nothing about the real Im Jaebum.

He is thankful that you stopped acting like you hate him. He admits he went too far and jumped to conclusions, but he can’t be blamed, in all honesty. He has seen so many young actress trying to become popular and acting dirty just for the sake of fame. He had to deal with clingy girls trying to get into his pants outside of work, running after him and thinking he spends his time pounding into whatever breathes.

So, thinking about how your relationship started, he doesn’t understand how his behaviour changed. He is used to being distant; he knows what people think of porn actors and doesn’t mind staying on his own – or with the only two people he can call friends. He blames it on the situation and the movie itself. He blames everything on how stupid and mushy he has to be for the sex scenes.

He ignores how enjoyable and soft you feel under his hands.

Jaebum knows it can happen. It’s the perks of making love for a living. He’s touched and kissed many people in his short life so obviously, he may feel attracted occasionally. It’s perfectly fine and natural, if he refers to his non-existent love life. He shouldn’t worry, even when he catches himself thinking about how you’d feel in a more intimate mind-set, or how strong his orgasm had been back then in the shower.

Yet, he doesn’t appreciate how it never happened before.

When he receives a call from his manager asking him to come and film a couple of scenes again, he doesn’t nag him. He usually complains, not caring about how ‘unprofessional the staff is’. Today he comes with no resentment towards the staff, hiding his evident eyes scanning the area, only to find it empty of your presence.

“We’ll start in ten.” The staff runs around, unpleased with the probability of having to pay for another day of filming in the studio. Everything is rushed, from how he gets pulled to the hairstylist, to how discreetly his makeup is done.

He catches you walking away from the restrooms, hands flattening the hems of your dress and eyes busy scanning for any imperfection on the thin clothing. You seem distracted, hurried even, like something is on your mind.

“We’ll start with the kitchen scene, please head to the studio.” One of the staff pulls him out of his thoughts, making him turn around and aim at the busy room.

He thinks everything will be alright when you step into the room, sitting on the kitchen table while he starts preparing food, just like the script wants him to. He turns around while the cameraman gets ready, along with the gaffer who doesn’t seem to be satisfied with the bright lightening. He tilts his head, catching your attention and you can only greet him, timidly.

How uncommon.

Jaebum knows something is off. You usually either ignore him totally or talk to him like he is your friend. You never act like there’s something you shouldn’t be doing, or like talking to him is something that makes you uneasy to the point of turning silent.

“Starting in two.” The director adds, making you both nod in his direction.

It’s going to be a long day.

--

It is a long day indeed. Jaebum has to deal with you ignoring him and he is torn between bluntly ask you or ignore the uneasiness. He decides not to push it. He isn’t the type of person who can be petty to the point of asking for justifications to a person he isn’t sure he is close to.

You find it hard to stare into space between each scene. So far you both were at least familiar enough to talk about your lives, so obviously, he would find it weird that you ignored him all of a sudden.

You almost regret it when you hear him sigh, forgetting about your previous will to get away from the illusion of a caring person. Maybe you’re overreacting. Maybe Im Jaebum really cares and is filming those sex scenes genuinely.

Maybe he likes making love to you.

That is stupid.

And even if he does, what’s the matter? It’s normal to be caring between co-workers. It’s even good to have a correct relationship at work.

So why is it that you’d rather escape from him?

You know the answer but you don’t even dare thinking about it. Im Jaebum is nothing but a very professional human-being.

--

“There you are!” You manager claps loudly, interrupting your train of thoughts as numerous people enter the studio. It’s been an hour since you finished re-filming the scene for Erotica and you were still waiting for them to arrive.

The director rushes inside, shaking hands with your manager before waving at you. “Is the studio ready? We are late, let’s hurry.” You know him, he is one of the youngest director working with your company. At least he is easy to work with so you won’t have to spread your legs for too long.

“Where is he?” Your manager asks, peeking behind to crew to look for the actor you’re supposed to work with. You didn’t even ask, the information not important enough for you to be enthusiastic anyways.

“Jackson should come any minute.” The director runs toward the people preparing the equipment and you follow, ready to listen to whatever they would want you to do. As if on cue, your manager arrives behind you, rubbing his hands excitedly. “It’s a quickie, doggy style, a little bit of hair pulling and that’s pretty much it.”

You nod, kind of relieved that it’s Jackson who is going to come and not another cocky actor from your company. There’s only a few you get along with, most of them are too self-centred to even act like you’re worth their time and it irritates you every time you have to film with them. They’re not unfriendly though, just very conscientious.

Jackson is different. He has a bubbly personality built to become friends with anyone who smiles at him at least once. He doesn’t mind filming at ungodly hours and respects all the decisions without complaining. He is a hard-working guy yet always makes the situation less dramatic.

Jackson is the only actor who has the ability to make you laugh in the middle of a sex scene and you enjoy how casual he is without being too laid back.

It’s natural when he throws an arm over your shoulders as soon as he enters the studio. He seems exhausted like he filmed non-stop for the past month – which he certainly did – but doesn’t act like he is annoyed to be here.

He smiles warmly, licking his lips and taking his cap off. “I didn’t know you were the one who agreed on taking Vera’s part. She came this morning and started throwing up all over the place,” he shivers, making a face. “Horrible. I heard you’re filming this movie everyone is talking about, how is it going? “

You shrug, mouth falling downwards in hope to keep the most neutral face. “Different? I don’t know, it’s my first time acting in a full movie with a storyline and actual dialogue.”

Jackson hums, parting from you so he can take his jacket off. “I like it when I feel more of an actor than a walking dick.” He raises a hand to get your manager’s attention. “I’ll go wash up real quick.” One wink and a boyish smile later, he is gone.

Jackson does a lot of ‘amateur like’ scenes. They’re mostly short and focus on sex only, but he also did movies with storylines and dialogues that had nothing to do with moans only. Despite his growing notoriety, he is still the same guy. You like how nothing feels creepy and dirty with him.

You aim for the bed, undressing slowly. Your underwear are the only barriers to your intimacy, making you shiver and wrap yourself into the deep red sheets. The staff is still busy with the lightning and camera placement while you wait for your co-actor to get out of the staff room, clean and perfumed.

Jackson always feels the same. After all those scenes you filmed with him, he always wore the same perfume and used the same body lotion. He wears strong notes of musk, with a sugary and fruity body lotion.

You made fun of him when he told you he was addicted to Victoria’s Secret’s products.

He comes back whistling. You’re lying down, body covered and head against the pillow. The staff is finally ready so Jackson jumps on the bed, covering himself too.

“You start with oral, then doggie style next to the bed. We need you to be quick, thirty minutes maximum. It’s a free video for our premium members so don’t overdo it.” You both nod at the director, Jackson already approaching you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

It’s a common sex encounter. Jackson groans yet massages your flesh with care. You purr against his neck when he starts touching you, earning an amused chuckle from the aroused boy.

It gets more intense when your lips wrap around his swollen tip. He grabs the sheet and bites his lip, watching you play with his penis hungrily.

You add more dramatic moans when he starts licking you. He is on the floor while your upper body is on the bed and he dives right in, groaning and parting your legs so wide you almost yelp at the sudden stretch.

He smirks against your folds and you want to smack him. It feels good to film without tension or uneasiness. Bless him for being somewhat normal even though he also has sex for a living.

The doggie style scene arrives quickly. Jackson jerks himself and rubs his dick playfully against your folds while you position yourself against the foot of the bed. The staff is quiet, busy even, as they start talking about when the video will be up.

You whimper when he fills you up to the hilt, head rising in an exaggerated blissed expression but you freeze when you open your eyes.

--

Jaebum was supposed to go. He didn’t even need to shower and changed himself fast, rushing to get the hell out of here and rest before meeting with his friend for a drink later that day.

He didn’t mean to peek but when he heard you had to film an unexpected scene, he put his bag down and stayed. It’s weird, he was never the type to be into voyeurism but something tickled his curiosity.

So eventually he sticks around, hidden behind the huge camera, looking like the biggest pervert in town. He watches intently, from the moment you start sucking your co-actor to that climax point when he starts pounding into you at full force.

And against better judgement, he scoffs. It looks rushed, tacky and everything he hates. He rolls his eyes at Jackson when the latter grunts and rotates his hips against your face, shakes his head when he spreads your legs and observes your unnatural face when you start moaning way too loudly.

It’s not natural. It’s not how you usually react, it’s definitely not your honest, flustered face when you close your eyes and lick your lips in false lust.

He doesn’t like it but somehow takes pride in the situation. He has been doing this for a long time now and he recognises a good actor when he sees one. Jaebum’s seen and felt too many fake orgasms to see you’re only wet because you must be. It’s pleasant in a way, because he remembers clearly how much you contracted around him, how you grabbed his arm for support, how you licked your lips to muffle the needy moans.

There’s no connection.

He ends up feeling torn. One part of him wants to laugh at how ridiculous that scene looks yet another part wants to grab your co-actor by the collar and drag him out so he can show everyone how you really act when you’re turned on.

It looks different though, when you look and find him staring. You’re bent over the bed, sweaty and panting yet you don’t seem to be into it. Jaebum knows he shouldn’t be here, but he finds it hard to ignore how disturbed it makes you look. You almost fall when you receive a particularly hard thrust and look away, head low.

“You must find this boring, right?” Your manager walks next to him and talks politely, like he wants to apologize for showing such as shameless and cheap scene.

Jaebum shakes his head, a smirk growing on his not so peaceful face. “It’s instructive.” It’s not. He doesn’t find anything interesting about a muscle-boy pounding into a girl who seems as dry as the desert.

When the scene ends, you fall on the bed, thoroughly ignoring Im Jaebum, who you hope is now gone. Jackson stretches and yawns, slapping your butt. “Get up, lazy girl.” He laughs at you and you smile back, grabbing his hand so you can stand up.

Jackson has no boundaries, for he already throws an arm around your shoulder, bowing at the staff and thanking everyone. “Let’s get a drink. It’s been ages.”

You make a face, shaking your head. “I’m exhausted and tomorrow is my last scene.” You peek around and Im Jaebum is nowhere to be seen, so you relax, muscles now soft and yet conscious of your surroundings.

“I didn’t say we would go to a nightclub. My schedule is packed for tomorrow, let’s- Oh, JB! The famous daddy.” Your eyes fly from Jackson to peek at an unamused Im Jaebum, arms crossed over his chest and smile tight. “I didn’t know you were still around!”

Jackson is dense, Jaebum thinks. He tilts his head and looks down at your bare body, the one you always hide from him whenever you’re done filming. How is it that you have no trouble walking around a naked and noisy guy when you dash out of his sight every single time?

Jaebum keeps his reproaches for himself, nodding at a smiley Jackson who doesn’t seem to mind showing his now floppy and dirty dick for everyone to see. “We met already, I believe.”

Jackson thinks for a minute, before clicking his fingers. “We did? Great! I was about to take Y/N for a drink right in front of the studio, why don’t you tag along?”

You part from him, shaking your head. “I told you I’m busy tomorrow. He is too, Jackson. Maybe some other time?”

Jackson looks disappointed from the way his arms go limp by his sides. “I can’t believe you-”

“Fine, let’s go.” Jaebum cuts him, eyebrows raised and watching you for any type of reaction. “The director said we only have filming in the afternoon, it’s our last scene, after all.”

You open your mouth, bewildered. What the hell is he thinking about?

Jackson claps his hands, proud. “So! It’s settled. Let’s take a shower and get out of here.”

--

You don’t know how you end up in a bar with two porn actors and a financial consultant. Jaebum was apparently supposed to meet his a friend and asked if it was okay for him to tag along, as to which Jackson agreed, of course.

He is also currently making the poor boy – whose name is Jinyoung - laugh with lame jokes and weird facial expressions. Jaebum is quiet, watching the place and sipping his drink. You try to make yourself look busy, but it’s hard considering you don’t want to be here.

“Of course not, we do get into stable relationships!” Jackson laughs, “Right, Jaebum?” He started calling him by his name as soon as he felt comfortable, which means ten minutes after meeting him in the studio. “People think we only care about sex.”

Jinyoung scoffs, “Of course you don’t, Jaebum himself has a mediocre love life. Is it true that sex becomes a chore once you become a porn star?” he looks at Jaebum and shakes his head. “Everyone thinks he is a Don Juan with too much stamina but he lives like a grandpa.”

Jaebum doesn’t have the time to answer as Jackson is already laughing loudly.

“It’s true, I guess? We don’t have sex the same way we do for the cameras. I mean, personally, it became that way for me. I’m so lazy when it comes to real sex.” Jackson nudges you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “How about you?”

You observe the three, your glass still clutched between your fingers. Jaebum seems also interested, because he stopped looking at the wall to stare at you.

You try to play it cool. “I guess it’s true. I wouldn’t know, it’s been a long time since I had personal sexual intercourse.” You don’t know why should share that information with two people you barely know and a guy you fuck with professionally.

Jackson gasps. “See? Most of the people I know who are in the sex industry aren’t thinking about sex non-stop.”

Jaebum hums, playing with his now empty glass. “Some people do think of us as creepy and perverted though.” You almost choke, hoping no one would notice how he was referring to you.

Jackson agrees instantly. “It’s hard to find someone who would accept our situation. What do you think about your friend’s job, Jinyoungie?”

You sigh when you hear the pet name. Jackson is so shameless.

Jinyoung doesn’t seem to mind. He thinks for a minute, before putting his glass down. “I’ve been friends with him for a long time so it’s not like I don’t know who he really is, but I admit I would have been freaked out if I met him under any other circumstances.”

“Right?” Jackson muses, amused with the situation. He turns to an upset Jaebum, “Still, you film some nasty shit.” He laughs after his witty remark, facing a now uneasy boy who is close to punching him in the face.

“It pays well.” Jaebum mutters, avoiding your stare that he knows must be judgemental, now. “It’s not like I’m into this.”

You chuckle at his sulky face. He doesn’t look like the cocky guy who made fun of you the first time you met.

The evening ends fast thanks to Jackson who can make the conversation for everyone. You laugh from time to time, teasing Jackson when a woman in her late fifties offers him a drink and he gladly accepts it, winking at the lady.

Jackson runs around once you’re all out of the bar and sings with an amused Jinyoung who looks like he has been friends with him for forever.

Jaebum stays behind, shocked to see how easily the pair became friends. He turns to you after a while, “Do you want me to drive you back?”

You stop, frozen. Maybe it’s a bad idea. You’ve had a couple of drinks and you don’t remember him drinking to the point of being drunk. It isn’t like him to ask when you could get a cab and head home.

“I mean, I took my car to come to the studio today.” He adds, pulling his key from his back pocket. “It’s easier than finding a cab.” He acts like he is detached and is asking purely out of convenience for you. “Unless you still think I’m a creep who will jump you.” He tries humour because it’s incredibly embarrassing and he has to find a way to get out of this if you ever reject his proposition.

Before your brain works, your mouth opens, rapid. “Okay.”

Jaebum smiles, surprised, and turns around to yell at the duet. “Want me to drive you back home, too?”

Jackson stops dancing, shaking his head at you too. “CAB! THANKS!” He pulls on Jinyoung’s hand to make him waltz, the latter barely able to answer as he is basically being pushed around everywhere. He notices the situation though and smirks at Jaebum, before shaking his head too.

“I’ll just find him a cab and head back.” He laughs when Jackson almost trips, forgetting about whatever was happening and Jaebum is glad he doesn’t have to deal with these two.

He presses on a button and a car makes a sound among all the parked engines by the street. It’s a nice yet simple car, in which you enter swiftly. Jaebum steps in a second later, spending no time in turning it on and you give him your address.

The ride is silent, the only sound coming from the soft music enough to make the situation less awkward. Jaebum is focused on the road, taking turns and listening whenever you give him directions. He discovers you live quite far from the studio but doesn’t comment on it, unsure of what your reaction would be.

You focus on the outside world, peaceful and lit with endless lights. You don’t expect him to become a chatterbox, but it’s true you didn’t think he could be so chill and silent. He does seem like the petty type, the guy with too much confidence and gusto, but he has none of it. He lives simply and has a cool friend, a guy who has nothing to do with the porn industry.

He also seems a lot softer than the first time you met. Maybe it’s because you know more about him and finally started to see him as something more than a jerk who fucks numerous persons per day.

It’s funny that he is the exact opposite of what he seems to be at first. It’s also crazy that he seems to avoid any sort of relationship and claims he isn’t that much into sex. You can understand though. Having sex became too much like working — and now that you spend your time faking orgasms, there’s not that much flavour left in it.

“What you usually do is different from what you filmed today.”

Jaebum’s remark makes you look away from the streets to glance at him. He barely peeks at your face and smirks “From what you told me, I thought you were more into soft porn than quickies.”

You smile. “What makes you think that?”

Jaebum peeks again, stopping at a red light and finally giving you his full attention. “It looked like you were forcing yourself. You don’t seem to fake it with me.”

Of all the embarrassing things that he could have said, this is the worst one. You stutter, the hint of an answer stuck to your throat.

“That’s why I thought you were more comfortable with soft porn.” He tries. Maybe he went too far.

You wait for a good minute before you open your mouth. “It’s funny coming from someone who hates soft porn yet seems to enjoy slow and delicate sex.”

He chokes on air, turning around another corner. “I hate filming delicate sex.”

“Then you’re a very good actor.” You add, making him smirk. “I live here.”

Jaebum leans to look at the building before stopping the engine. He then presses on the central locking button so you can open the door.

You grab your bag, glad you can finally run away from the sticky situation. You get out of the car and lean to thank him but he makes you freeze with his next words.

“I wasn’t acting.”

You blink, not getting if you’re imagining things or if Im Jaebum just admitted he made love to you for real. He notices the way your body stiffens and when you don’t move, he decides to end your misery.

“See you tomorrow, rookie.”

--

[zoraspetpetunias]

“Afternoon Zora.” Called the frumpy man behind the deli counter as he bent around to offer a brown paper bag to a customer. The customer quickly ducked towards the door around the throng of people in the line. The large man wiped his hands on his rustic brown apron and lifts the bar counter, coming about towards Zora. He calls over his shoulder “hey morty, take over the counter for a spell.” As he approached smiling and happy to see her a turtle of a man slinks out of the door behind the counter and with the air of a flighty reptile, begins taking orders in a nasal alto.

“Figured it was about time for you to get back in town. How ya feelin kid.”

Zora rolled her eyes up at the man, still slouched into the booth with her legs crossed at the ankles and head thrown back over the seat. "Gio, can i bum 'ere? Jus make a nest or sum'in under the booth?" The man, Giovanni, sat down heavily opposite zora; squeezing his budgy yet muscled frame into the too small seat.

"Now kid, I know home isn't much fun these days, but it beats the hell out of a bakery booth." He tried to give joking smile.

Zora rolled her eyes at him. "is got biscuits tho, and pies, and tarts." She sighed, not making him waiver. "I know it does, im jus not that excited abou' all the fightin, ya know?"

He nods sagely, scratching the week old growth on his cheek. "Your ma is doin her best, it's not easy getting over stuff when you're older; us old farts get set in our ways and that kinda change is hard to get over, no matter how long it's been." Zora crosses her arms and shrugs, scouring the table with her simmering angst.

"I had to, why can't she?" She mutters to the table.

"Because, you're tougher than the average jane kid. By far. Your ma's always been on the gentle side. Even before you were born." Gio's tempered New York accent gets a bit thicker as a touch of sorrow enters his voice. He lifts a brown thin cardstock box from next to him on the seat, as if by magic. "I had your favorite ready." He slides it slowly across the table, thick fingers leaving flour fingerprints on the side of the crispy brown cardboard.

Zora took a long pause, rolling his words around in her head before deciding that she liked what he was selling, and looked up. "Thanks, fer..."

He shook his head fatherly, letting her know no explanation was necessary. "Rest, eat, let me know when you leave." He knocked a knuckle on the table top softly, as if to add a finality to the words; an gentle authority to it, and got up.

Zora watched him walk away. She always saw something in him, a kindness that reminded her of what her dad had been like. Charming, awkward, just a dash of command; the kind of flair in his manner that came from seeing the bad side of a war, and coming out the other side. They'd served together in the gulf, and on a break Her dad had convinced Gio to move to England afterwards. He'd visited, just before they went back, and her dad had named Gio Zora's unofficial godfather. Gio had mentioned several times that he wasn't Italian, he was a bit polish, but it had stuck.

That same stint, Zoras dad had gotten caught in crossfire pulling another soldier out of the field. She had visited at the service and had talked to Zora. The words were hard to recall, but that look of apologetic sorrow on the pretty woman's face, all scared from a gunshot, was an easy thing to recall in her mind; insidiously easy.

Eyes blinking back sudden tears, Zora wipes her face over with her sleeve and lifts the edge of the box's lid with her fingertip. Inside sat a plump cupcake, lemon with buttercream icing and bits of lemon sherbet sprinkled on top. A single piece of craft white chocolate sat atop the whole things, a sphere with a pair of wings extended behind it in flight. Gio had called that specialty cupcake 'Lemon Fireflies' but any wizard would know what it was.

She flipped the box open all the way, and dug in her oversized backpack for a patchwork diary and opened to a fresh page. 'Love is a Firefly on the wind' She began, before sampling the cupcake in tiny, measured bites and writing down her feelings for it.

Gio stopped by, set down a mug of thick hot chocolate that had purposefully been left to chill, and went back to work without saying a word; looking pleased with how things were going. The lines ebbed and flowed out of the door, fancy and delicious baked goods were made and left, and a steady handful of hours ticked by in the bakery. The door rang open, as it always did, but the room went quiet for a heartbeat; and that's when Zora began closing the box, saving the other half of the cupcake without looking around. She stowed her diary, pushed the heavy steamer trunk away from the edge of the booth, and climbed out.

Standing rigid and alert behind her was a slim man in a off-the-rack suit, black and simple. He nodded to her, "Mam." And took hold of one side of the steamer trunk and rolled it towards the door. Zora hastily glided to the counter, letting herself behind it and hugged Gio around one arm and left without saying a word.

Gio called after her "Be good to your ma." And she threw up a hand over her shoulder in response, following her families Gentleman out the door. She glanced back after the door swung closed, getting another look at him before she went into battle. She stepped off the curb in front of Kowalski Bakery, and toward the waiting automobile.

* * * * *

Outside, trunk loaded in the boot, Reggie held the door open for Zora to step into the car. She slung her bag into the back and stepped in, avoiding touching Reginald at all possible. He smartly closed the door and stepped round the car and got in, religiously checked his mirrors and seatbelt, and shifted gears. "Home Jeezes." She whispered, hoping he wouldnt catch the off-color joke. She idly pushed the cupcake box across the leather seat next to her as she impatiently awaited what was to come.

They left the city and drove for half an hour, ending up in a small village of stately homes, each on its own modest mile or so of land. The town was reclusive, almost occultishly so, and had always bothered Zora on some level. There simply were not enough people for her taste. The car pulled towards a circular drive made of flagstones that led to a three story home that many in the city would deem to hang the word 'mansion' on. As the car stopped before the white steps leading up to the large cedar doors of the mansion, Reggie got out and around to open her door, but Zora had immediately exited and went around to open the boot. He came over and used a key to unlock it, somehow pushing her out of the way without having touched her. "Shall I place this in the wash room to be gone through miss?"

"My room, as always Reginald." Zora clipped. Her voice had a new quality, a refined old family british lilt that was anathema (ann-ath-emma; contrary or polar opposite, to the point of violently so) to her voice at school. "I appreciate your work, but if you could refrain from handling my things 'for' me while I am here on break, I would appreciate it." He nodded, this routine had played out before but he never deviated from script; he was a cock like that. She tucked the cupcake box close to her chest, slung her bag on, and marched up the steps toward her mothers home.

The front door was opened in front of her by the Maid, Sarah, who Zora actually sort of liked. She serviced a few other houses in the area, unlike Reggie, and was only a handful of years older than Zora herself. She always found a piece of chocolate or two hidden behind the spoons when Sarah knew she was back home.

"How was boarding school miss?" Sarah asked as she shut the door behind Reggie who began trudging up the staircase towards the bedrooms.

"Board-ing" Mumbled Zora, before giving a thankful smile to the woman. "How has life here been?" Zora awkwardly adjusted her bag.

"A new family moved in last week, they've got a lazy son who likes to paint. So not too boring, if ya know what i mean." She gave her a wink.

Zora tried not to roll her eyes, though the impulse was strong. "Of course, I hope he's nice." Zora turned away before making more of an awkward conversation, stepping carefully through the once wide hallway; now packed with displays and dressers and shelves of collectibles.

There was something odd about the Abbott house, Her mother, Rhatamiwa, was a hoarder. Of their once extensive family, only Zora and Rhatamiwa were alive. All the worldly possessions of her various cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, grand aunts and uncles, and great grand parents were organized somewhat haphazardly and put for melancholy display about the endless house. Right next to the entrance, like a sentinel, was a display with a military coat folded neatly on top and a picture set above it. Zora absently ran her hand over the coat as she passed it, a ritual of hers for luck.

In the den she found her mother, drinking wine and reading over a large-print book. Around her were a few others, partially read, and a scrapbook turned to a random page. It was difficult to get to the couches that her mother favored in the middle of the room, and consequently her mother rarely left this room except to sleep or lounge on the lawn in the back on temperate days. "Mother." Zora cooed.

"Yes?" The nearly middle aged woman removed her thick glasses and slipped on another pair that dangled from a thin gold chain about her neck. Her thin, frail, but lithe form twisted towards Zora. "Zoralia Rosaline Petunia Turquis, come give your mother a hug." She got up slowly, almost dramatically, as Zora snaked around china cabinets and shelves of clothes. She tried to hug her mother tenderly but the woman still gave a small jolt of pain from the embrace. "Welcome home my little bird, I hope you kept up with your Bible reading while at that," she paused over the word, almost finding a way to not sound condescending, "school."

"Yes mother" Muttered Zora as she pulled away, glancing around the room for some means of escape. "I'm feeling a bit off from the train ride, I think I'll go upstairs."

"Of course dear, reggie will fetch you when supper is prepared." She sat back down airily, picking up her glasses and book. As Zora was almost gone she called after "And do your reading before bed, God knows when you don't."

* * * * *

That was the general mood of the entire christmas break, up until the day of. Solitude, false bible study, and sneaking down her roof outside her window to explore the woods on their land. A few creatures lived there that shouldn't. Zora would take as many opportunities as she dared to visit her transplanted pets, her odd little family of a streeler, a handful of spiteful knarls, some odd toads, and a snake that protected the woods from muggle poachers. Senya, Zoras friend snake, would slither up close to a muggle and then rapidly go right past them; too fast to catch or shoot, but enough that they ran for the safety outside the woods.

On christmas morning, having said three prayers already, Zora's mother handed her a present. "To keep you safe, I know it will get frightfully cold." She opened the unwrapped box (mother did not appreciate shiny, flashy wrapping for a few years now.) and inside was a slightly moth-eaten scarf of deep green material, soft and girly. "It was your great aunt Geraldine's. She wore it whenever she wanted to look fancy at winter, always matched her eyes. She will watch over you if you wear it." Zora refrained from any words other than. "Thank you mother." and set the box aside.

She handed a small, simply wrapped box to her mother. "It just pops open, no ripping." She made sure her mother knew that before getting obstinant about having to rip it open. She lifted the lid and inside, on a bed of satin, were a pair of half moon reading glasses much like her real glasses. She lifted them out and turned them side to side, admiring the rose gold frames. "This is lovely, just lovely." She unfolded them slowly and slid them on, turning to Zora to show her. "Oh." She said sharply and her hand drifted up to grab the glasses before she caught herself. She peered around the room, down at the books still littering the table and couch, and then back at Zora.

"It is a new type of lense, from the store mother. A new type of optical layer on the glass." Her mother looked at her sharply, a fit of anger behind her eyes.

"This didn't come from your school, little bird? You wouldn't lie to your mother." She said it not as a question, but as a warning.

"No mother, from the store. If you don't like them I can have Reggie take me to retur-"

"No that is fine dear, just fine." Her fit seemed to deflate and Zora exhaled, mentally tallying the days until break was over in her head. "They work wonderfully. Thank you." Zora relaxed, knowing that the enchanted lenses she had gotten work done on from a curly haired boy in gryffindor would greatly help her mothers eyes.

"May I go into town, to see Gio for christmas, mother?" Zora asked politely. She had a little gift for him as well, a miniature tree that grew candies from Diagon Alley.

Her mother made a show about looking about, thinking hard on the topic, as if it were somehow improper to ask. "I suppose, but be home before dark." Zora got up and left, hopeful for just a bit more actual enjoyment from her break before returning to school. With plant-in-box under one arm, and dressed in a more mother-approved sunday dress and low heels, Zora slipped into the car and left for the city.

The rest of the break swept by. Zora said goodbye to her woodland friends, and Sarah one last time before packing her trunk and departing for platform nine and three quarters.