#(to be clear this isn't a common occurrence)

[headspace-hotel]

I forget why, but I was on the Wikipedia page for polycystic ovarian syndrome, and I started researching hirsutism in women, and I learned the following things in this order:

there's a diagnostic criteria used to evaluate how hairy a woman is

This is important because being too hairy is a diagnostic criteria of most disorders that cause hyperandrogenism

Disorders that cause hyperandrogenism can be diagnosed by...measuring how hairy you are (this is the main and most important diagnostic criterion for PCOS)

Disorders that cause hyperandrogenism are important because they are correlated with obesity, infertility, and...being too hairy?

I think to myself, wait, what is a normal range for testosterone in women? I find this article...which set reference ranges for "normal" testosterone levels in women...EXCLUDING WOMEN WITH PCOS?

Quote: "Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) is another notable condition in genetic (XX) females, which is characterized by excessive ovarian production of androgens. This condition is included for comparison with DSD, as the affected females with PCOS are genetic and phenotypic females. The elevated levels of testosterone in these females can lead to hyperandrogenism, a clinical disorder characterized variably by hirsutism, acne, male-pattern balding, metabolic disturbances, impaired ovulation and infertility. PCOS is a common condition, affecting 7%-10% of premenopausal women."

So: the study claims to demonstrate a clear distinction between the normal range of hormone levels in "Healthy" men and "healthy" women...with "healthy" being defined in the study as...having hormones within the "normal" range.......................

So I researched what the clinically established "normal" range for testosterone in women is

THERE ISN'T ONE????

Quote from the above article: "Several different approaches have been used to define endocrine disorders. The statistical approach establishes the lower and the upper limits of hormone concentrations solely on the basis of the statistical distribution of hormone levels in a healthy reference population. As an illustration, hypo- and hypercalcemia have been defined on the basis of the statistical distribution of serum calcium concentrations. Using this approach, androgen deficiency could be defined as the occurrence of serum testosterone levels that are below the 97.5th percentile of testosterone levels in healthy population of young men. A second approach is to use a threshold hormone concentration below or above which there is high risk of developing adverse health outcomes. This approach has been used to define osteoporosis and hypercholesterolemia. However, we do not know with certainty the thresholds of testosterone levels which are associated with adverse health outcomes."

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

It's batshit crazy to make a diagnostic criteria for medical disorders by placing arbitrary cutoffs within 2-5% of either end of a statistical distribution. What the actual fuck?

"The results came back, you have Statistical Outlier Disease." "What treatments are available?" "Well, first, we recommend dietary change. You should probably stop eating so many spiders."

Another article which attempted to do this

Quote: "Subjects with signs of hirsutism or with a personal history of diabetes or hypertension, or a family history of polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) were excluded."

"We're going to figure out the typical range of testosterone levels that occur in women! First, we're going to exclude all the women that are too hairy from the study. I am very good at science."

Anyway I got off topic but there are apparently race-specific diagnostic tools for "hirsutism." That's kinda weird on its own but when I looked more into this in relation to race I found this article that straight-up uses the term "mongoloid"

[mariasont]

Sending another thought that I can’t think of a way to elaborate on to your magnificent mind

Aaron Hotchner with his assistant who’s rambling (like every other day) about random stuff and she’s just like “I want kids someday” and Hotch is like “oh yea?” And she’s like “yea! And if I ever have kids I hope they’re just like Jack, he’s such a little angel” blah blah blah and poor Hotch is screaming in his mind like YOU COULD HAVE JACK??? BE HIS STEPMOM????

Sorry I’m absolutely feral for them ily bye

BUSINESS OF MAKING BABIES - A.H

a/n: i took this in a slightlyyyy different direction but ugh same im so feral for these two!!!! thank you for your most amazing request! i <3 you!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: references to baby making!!!!!!

wc: 0.6k

Aaron needed to get work done, but his focus was more trained on the delicate patch of skin that connected your shoulder to your neck, smooth and glowing like you'd just stepped out of the sun. You smelled delectably good, which was sending his neurons into overdrive. You were saying something, formulating and articulating thoughts from that perfect brain and through your also perfect mouth. 

He was concentrated on making sure you knew he was listening, nodding and humming every so often as you continued on your tangent, hands waving dramatically through the air, heels clanking on the floor in his office as you paced the room. His gaze moved to your thighs, only for a second, he was a gentleman after all. 

"And she's just, you know, popping them out left and right, and I'm over here like, Hello? Can I get a turn? I'm not asking for much, just a sweet guy who's willing to, you know, help me out with the whole baby-making thing."

You stopped dead in front of his desk, placing your hands atop the wood as you let out a melodramatic sigh. This caught his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"You want kids?" The words left his mouth before he could filter them. "Isn't that a bit premature at your age?"

"Okay, Grandpa," you giggled, plopping yourself down in the chair before him. "And, of course, I want babies. They'd be the cutest, hopefully just like Jack. He's the sweetest, isn't he?"

Hotch felt his heart plummet to his stomach, jaw clenching and unclenching as he rubbed his thumb along the rough edges of his chin. "Yeah, he's pretty great."

You sighed again, a common occurrence in this conversation, as you stood up and moved around the desk before plopping yourself down on it. Your calve grazed accidentally against his thigh. You absentmindedly adjusted a wrist full of charm bracelets, creating a gentle jingling sound that should've annoyed him, but it did anything but.

"Honestly, though, who even needs a boyfriend these days? I could totally just take the whole donor route for the baby thing. Easy-peasy!"

Hotch's response came after a brief, flustered pause, during which he seemed to search for the right words. Clearing his throat, he managed to look anywhere but at you as he carefully said, "Ah, yes, I suppose you could... do that."

In an effort to regain some semblance of control over the situation, Hotch took a deliberate sip of the somewhat stale coffee sitting on his desk. However, before he could swallow, you bounded off the desk, eyes wide with sudden realization.

"You know what? You would be a great donor."

The coffee in Hotch's mouth nearly made a swift exit as he choked, trying to comprehend what you had just said.

Hotch opened his mouth, attempting to form a coherent response, but before he could broker a single word, you had both hands on his shoulders.

Your eyes were sparkling as you took in his face. "Yeah, like, you have great hair--totally not receding--perfect eyes, great skin..."

Your rapid-fire compliments left him momentarily speechless, a rare flush making its way to his cheeks.

"Well, I--" Hotch began, but your excitement had already taken the reins before he could even navigate through his thoughts.

"I can totally see it; we'd have such cute kids!" you gushed, practically dancing towards the door as if your dreams were almost tangible in the air.

Hotch watched you leave, stuck in his chair, dumbfounded and momentarily lost for words. A bemused smile formed on his lips as he realized he didn't hate the idea at all.

No sooner had the door closed behind you than Morgan appeared, looking thoroughly baffled. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze flicking between Hotch and the door you had just exited through.

"Since when are you and Miss Pretty in Pink in the business of making babies together?"

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[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation Of Love.

Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer!reader

Summary: When you arrive at the police station to defend a client's innocence, you don't expect the man accusing her to be the same man you've been dating for months.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: mentions of crime and serial killers (normal warnings in the series). established relationship. aaron already divorced. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I just love Hotch and wanted to write something with him here. To me, he is definitely the kind of man who is so tired from work that he tries not to mention it on a date (of course, after all the trauma he has been through).

Also, I'm warning you that this is all very chaotic because I'm doing a lot of serious writing lately and I need pink love, comforting and even uncomfortable chaos to relax. So I've been re-watching the first season of the show (sorry, I'm just a girl and not a fan of the last few seasons🥲) and I want to salvage a little of the Hotch we were introduced to before so much misfortune befell him.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

It wasn't that you were annoying, particularly aggressive, or obsessed with being right, you just did your job to the best of your ability. Even if that meant being the villain of other people's stories and mentally going over every law to make sure it was obeyed.

The issue was that not everyone saw it the same way. In the workplace, where you managed, your exact memorization of the rules wasn't always appreciated if you were the one carrying the defense and doing everything to overthrow the other side's theories. For the same reason, you usually had to argue with cops, prosecutors, judges, and—on this occasion—even an FBI agent who wasn't happy with your presence.

You had in your hands an alleged confession of several murders delivered by your client under the coercion of the man who was interrogating her, without your presence there and with some pretty questionable methods to put her in an empty room without concrete evidence or an order from the judge. Unbelievably, it was a fairly common occurrence in your day-to-day work.

At least it was until the boss of the agent you were arguing with showed up and everything started to get complicated.

“What's going on here?”

The cross words and your intensity in emphasizing the injustice of the manipulation of the confession did not allow you to realize that there was someone else in the room. Much less that it was someone who looked exclusively at you until one of the police officers present cleared his throat.

“There has been a violation of the law.” You slowly turned to look behind you, and that's when you saw him.

Aaron stood stiffly, trying to look professional and serious, wearing a tie that matched your dress.

“There wasn't one, Hotch. We just got the confession.” Agent Morgan interjected into the silence provoked by the exchange of glances between you and his supervisor.

For the first time in the half hour you'd been there, you were completely silent. Even when two more agents showed up to try to defuse the situation, you didn't stop repeating the same arguments and insisting on your point. Now, however, you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

There was a long pause before Aaron spoke carefully. “I'll take care of clarifying the situation.”

Trying to remain serious and stoic, he led you to one of the station's offices with the excuse that he wanted to talk about the case quietly so as not to attract the attention of his team. The strange thing was that he called you by name in front of everyone, without anyone having introduced you before. Maybe one of you two would have noticed if you had been a little less attentive to the other and more attentive to how the situation looked in the other's eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as soon as he closed the door behind you, loosening the tension in his jaw a little, at least now it was just the two of you.

“Where's my 'Good to see you, sweetie. Please don't sue us' or anything like that?”

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, hoping you would take it seriously. Automatically and unconsciously, he had begun to move away from you and sat down on the other side of the desk, marking a distance between the two of you. Aaron had brought out his work side and you had hidden it at the mere sight of him.

“The woman your team pressured into confessing to a crime is my client.” You finally spoke in a serious tone, staring at him with some surprise. This wasn't the usual dynamic with him—you usually had a more relaxed side to him.

“Since when do you take cases like this?”

“Since it's been assigned to me.” You said, raising your shoulders. “One of the buffet partners is on vacation and left me to his clients, as I mentioned the other night.”

The other night when you were in his car, when he had his hand on your thigh as he drove home, when he smiled at you every chance he got to turn around and look at you. When the two of you weren't on completely different sidewalks and weren't supposed to act like strangers.

“This is pretty weird.” You said after watching him for a few seconds and noticing that he seemed lost in his memories. “I hope the agent I was arguing with isn't your friend. That would be awkward.”

Aaron looked at you, trying to figure out what could have happened before he showed up. He already knew you were a good lawyer, very capable and, above all, a good striker. It was too weird for him to think that you had been using your skills against his own team, against the friends he once wanted to introduce you to and that you had now met for the first time in the most unimaginable way.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look at me like I'm a ghost.”

His brow furrowed again.

He didn't want to say out loud that everything related to his work had ended badly and was completely destroyed, just like his ex-marriage and any attempt to fix it. He had always felt comfortable with you because your work was just as demanding but less dangerous than his. You usually handled family cases, divorces, estates, and coordinating child care. You were away from the blood, the killers, and all the atrocities he lived with.

“I'm worried about you being in the middle of this. It can be dangerous.” He showed his concern for you and had to hold back from holding your hand.

“You should worry more about the lawsuit.” You pointed out in a tone somewhere between teasing and serious. You didn't like him worrying too much. “I'm very good.”

“This is serious.” He finally let his guard down and placed his hand on your knee from under the table, giving it a gentle touch.

That was the man you know and love.

“Me too, it's my job.”

“And you're making my job harder.” He pointed out with a small smile in response to yours.

What were the chances of your love life and work life crossing paths like this? You thought they were pretty slim, which is why you steered clear of talking about work when you were together.

You were just about to answer when you heard a tap on the door and one of the agents who had been watching you during your discussion came over to give Aaron some information about the profile. You couldn't understand him very well because he seemed to be speaking in code because of your presence.

“I'll be there in a moment, Rossi. Get the team together and we'll talk.” Hotchner finished earnestly. You could still feel the warmth of his touch on your knee. “I'm just finishing up here.”

As soon as he left the office, you looked at Aaron with surprise.

“Is he who you always mention?” You asked, and he nodded. “I thought it was 'Rosie,' not 'Rossi,' and that he was a woman.”

“Now I understand why you grimace when I mention his name.” He replied with some amusement. “You were jealous.”

Yes, especially when you found out that they'd shared a room once.

“Don't mock me, I'm about to sue you.” You advertiste in a fake threatening tone, pointing a finger at him. “And I don't care how handsome you look right now, I'll do my job.”

“Me too.” He replied, trying to ignore your compliment to keep a serious expression on his face. “And you look pretty too, I like that dress.”

The love between you seemed to be bubbling anyway, and it was impossible to hide it when you had breakfast together just a few hours ago. You went from making him coffee to offering him a lawsuit if he didn't agree with you.

“I know, I'll use this dress while I debunk your profile theory.” You got up from your seat suddenly after taking your phone out of your bag. It was then that you looked him in the eye. “Are you going to release my client now or should I call the judge?”

“You're not going to take a suspect in five murders. I'm not going to let her off the hook.” He copied your action.

“Give me the evidence then, love.”

Oh, to call him that at that point was a cheap shot, especially when you were the one who won because he had no concrete evidence, only theories and his complex profile.

“But stay away from her anyway, she can be dangerous. My agents will keep an eye on her.” He snorted after a few seconds, trying to find an argument, but failing.

At that moment, you gave him a little smile, proud of yourself and what you had accomplished. “See you at dinner?”

“Sure.” He replied without being able to help but give you a small smile in return. “But I'll pick the place.”

“Well, that's an argument I'll let you win.” You put your phone back in your bag and took a couple of steps towards the door, stopping when you saw him coming after you. “Can I kiss my opponent?”

“This is pretty unprofessional.” He said, putting a hand on your waist and leaning you against the door. Without hesitation, he kissed you firmly on the lips.

After a few minutes, the two of you walked out of the office as if nothing had happened, and the professional scene continued. Your heels clicked towards the exit with your client at your side, while Aaron met with his team, trying to find new ways to solve the case and refine the profile. The only problem was that he happened to be working with people who were very detail-oriented.

And, gosh, it was impossible not to notice the traces of your lipstick on his lips.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 12)

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 12:

It felt like hours went by, and it looked like your suspicion was correct- as indicated by the deepening red of the skies of Hell, compared to the pale pinkish hue it was when Alastor teleported the two of you up here.

The entire time, Alastor hardly said even a single word- a rare occurrence, knowing his occupation and personal love of hearing himself talk. If anyone ever knew that Alastor just purely listened attentively to you for hours, they'd probably think you're lying.

You told him about how your parents and in-laws treated you like a bargaining chip for their own businesses and social standing to prosper- then for everyone to turn their backs on you as soon as you were married off. You were treated like a circus animal in a cage.

Even after that, he didn't say a word. He just rubbed his thumb across your hands as reassurance before you continued.

When you told him about how your ex-husband used and abused you, but then paraded you around as the trophy wife like nothing was wrong, all Alastor did was tighten his grip on your hands.

As you explain in full detail the emotional and physical distress it all caused you and the impact that meeting Alastor had on your life, which then spurred the meticulously planned murder of your then-husband, you could swear you feel his hands trembling ever so slightly.

Many more tears had fallen from your eyes during this whole process, your throat sore from talking so much at one time.

Then, you looked up at Alastor.

He looked at you with nothing but love and the most gentle smile you had ever seen.

Without saying a word, he stood up and walked over to you, helping you stand up. Then he gave you a warm embrace. You gasped in response. It was very rare for either of you to initiate much physical touch, but it was even less common coming from Alastor.

Not letting this opportunity go by, you wrap your arms around him.

Alastor pulls back from the embrace slowly to gently caress your face and says, "And here I thought I couldn't possibly love you even more, my dear. You're just as perfect to me as the day I first laid eyes on you..."

A chuckle escapes your lips as you lean into his touch.

"My vows still hold true, you know. As I put that ring on your finger that night you left me too early, I said to you...' 'In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear.' with only the moon and stars as my witness."

A huge smile spreads across your face, "Oh Al, honey... Looks like you were right after all, in life and in death, I'm yours". You say as you pull him into a kiss, that he happily obliges to indulge you in.

"My dear, I think we will have to have a proper exchanging of vows soon- one that isn't interrupted by a certain someone- banging on the DOOR!"

You hardly even noticed the muffled yells and banging noises that were present at door that then disappeared with a yelp as Alastor whipped around to unlock and open the door.

"Why Vaggie, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you all the way up here?" He answered the door with a low growl to his voice.

"Alastor! You just up and kidnapped our guest and haven't returned for HOURS! You can't just do that! Especially when you were threatening their life!"

"Ahahaha! Funny thing! Yes, yes I can!"

"Why you... ALAST-"

"Hey, hey! Vaggie, don't worry. I'm okay, we're okay." You quickly shoved yourself between the two of them as you felt the tensions rising.

" (y/n)! What did he do to you?? What's going on here???"

You sheepishly smile as you slink back to Alastor's side and link your arm through his, "Just uh.. reuniting?"

Vaggie took a step back and raised an eyebrow while asking, "Hold on now, what did you just say?"

Alastor clears his throat, "Ahem, why I do believe I owe you and Charlie an apology of sorts! Perhaps a 'thank you' as well for saving the love of my life, my soon-to-be fiancée from when we were still alive!"

"Excuse me- WHAT???"

-> Part 13

Tag List:

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[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

-

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead. The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. It would be too late to back out now.

He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers just before the elder stands infront of him.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious?" He squeaks before clearing his throat. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally grounds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura and in a leather jacket.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung. The real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class, is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out so Jungkook can secure the spot.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook once again clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls of his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your table as you lay out your tools.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—hoping he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants with briefs in tow and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But, before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

-

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. However, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You bargain, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering for free." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after, like you promised." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

-

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks around you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide under your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

-

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

-

>> Still Untitled

[llamagoddessofficial]

In today's age of magic, shapeshifting has never been easier or more frequent. Have you started to notice your partner has some strange quirks? Does your husband, wife, spouse or significant other demonstrate some odd behaviours that you've only started to take real notice of after significant time together? Accidentally getting into a relationship with a nonhuman is more common than you might think. Here's a handy guide on some entities your partner might be, in case you feel you need to approach that topic.

1 - Fae Fae are a very diverse race, ranging wildly in appearance and power, and disguising themselves as humans is an everyday occurrence. You most likely grew up on stories about not giving your name to strangers, in case they are Fae - unknowingly marrying a Fae is shockingly common, the Bureau of Nonhuman Entities (BoNE) estimates that anywhere between 0.5 to 2% of human marriages actually include one or more Fae in disguise. Here are the signs your partner may be Fae.

A 'green thumb', very knowledgeable about highly local plants and fungi

Strong aptitude for poetry and instruments, a very beautiful singing voice. They highly enjoy writing songs for you, composing poems about you, and singing together.

Enjoys singing you to sleep.

Wild animals are completely unafraid of them, and often approach both of you

Loves gold jewellery, but abjectly refuses to wear anything silver.

Sees suspiciously well in the dark

Cannot get drunk - Fae are often immune to human poisons

Acquaintances of yours describe your partner as 'ethereal', 'enchanting', or 'hypnotising'. You may hear comments that your partner seems out of your league.

They place a very heavy emphasis on manners and politeness, and can quickly grow upset when social rules are not followed.

When frustrated, they use swear words you've never heard before

Fae are frequently attracted to neurodivergent humans. If you're neurodivergent the likelihood is even higher.

2 - Deity Again, more common than you might think. Deities both minor and major often find themselves attracted to humans, and stories of these romances are baked into our histories. Your spouse may be the God of anything from a very specific kind of flower, to a certain weather pattern, to (rarely) something very big like knowledge or the ocean itself. They're harder to spot than Fae, often indistinguishable from a normal human thanks to their many years observing people.

The biggest clue is that they don't notice pain, and never seem to get hurt. They'll have invulnerability or high resistance to things such as burning, freezing, drowning, cutting, and blunt force trauma. They might not notice they've put their hand on a hot burner, for example.

Speaks in strangely archaic language, often misunderstanding modern trends and linguistics. Oddly knowledgeable around ancient subjects.

They may randomly smell like blood and/or smoke. This is often a sign they've just received an offering, and the intensity of the smell is stronger with more powerful deities.

They can immediately tell when someone is lying, usually without giving a cause for the knowledge.

The two of you share pet names of a celestial nature, such as "star", "nova", "sun", "moon", "comet".

When upset, they have a highly commanding voice that can shake glass or cause bizarre events to happen (ie; mist indoors, words on a page scrambling, lights changing colour).

Heightened interest in the topic of immortality - particularly your views on it. Frequently asking you 'how you would feel' if you would live forever.

3 - Dragon A very rare (but not impossible) phenomena, most people have no idea that dragons are intelligent and emotionally complex beings that can very convincingly disguise themselves. Living in caves isn't for everyone and loneliness is not just a human feeling.

Very wealthy, but with no clear sign of where the wealth originates from. They may say their money comes from a 'long-term investment'.

Highly passionate lover. Deeply devoted and affectionate, sometimes to the point of it being inappropriate in public. Enjoys big displays of affection and physical intimacy. May need to be told to slow down.

Abandonment issues. This often stems from the highly violent childhood many dragons experience, and the frequent loss of loved ones to dragonslayers. They might be reluctant to be separated too long.

Has a particular item they enjoy hoarding. This could be clothes, trinkets, plushies, shoes, anything at all. You may find that they're very easygoing about you touching their collection, maybe they even actively make you part of the hoard. They may dress you in collected clothes, sort their collected plushies around your bed, or ask you to wear jewellery they've found. But they'll become extremely agitated and aggressive if anyone other than you tries to interact with 'their things'.

Prone to anger, quick-tempered.

Frequently concerned about your health, seems to perceive you as delicate and easily injured.

Please remember that if your partner IS nonhuman, they almost certainly didn't intentionally lie. Human relationships will seem very fast to other entities. Many transform into humans for a fun year out, find themselves head over heels in love, and then can't figure out the right time to tell their human lover the truth. Try not to hold it against them, everyone has their quirks!

[changisworld]

What do you think which skz member would be most willing to do anal with female reader??

-🦇

🦇i swear you feed me with the most insane thoughts sndbsnsnsbsjsjasbsb, I hope you like this, mwah!

main masterlist here MOST OF THE MOST LIKEY!!

1. definitely jisung, nobody can tell me he’s not the most insane person when it comes to sex, anal play is nothing compared to other shit he’s into, it definitely happened without you both ever really planning it, it probably started when he was eating you out (obviously messy & imprecise asf because he’s just too excited) & he somehow ended up eating your ass when his tongue went lower to catch some of his spit & once he realised your reaction, it just went from there!! He genuinely can (& has) came completely untouched, the sight of him fucking a glass dildo into your tightest hole just drives him insane & OMFG when he actually fucks you himself??? he cums almost instantly but he just cannot get ENOUGGHHH so he overstimulates himself just to be able to do it with you for longer, he’s not made you orgasm just from anal just yet but he thinks he will have it nailed down so soon!

2. Jeongin!! his ‘vanilla’ persona might trick some people but it WILL NEVER TRICK ME!! this man drools over it. He was probably too nervous to ask you straight up, so instead he would click on a few anal porn videos whenever you guys would masterbate together & you obviously caved instantly after realising the pattern of what he was watching. He’s soooooo sweet the first couple of times you guys have anal sex, slowly opening you up, kissing you all over as his long fingers fuck into you, his hand doing uncomfortable twists just to be able to play with your clit at the same time just to make sure you’re feeling okay, but after you have both gotten used to it, THE SWITCH UP IS INSANE!! you have both realised you enjoy anal sex a whole lot more than you both originally thought & it’s definitely not an extremely common occurrence, but it still happens loooaadssss hehehe

3.Leeknow loves anal, everyone act surprised! He is an ass man through & through & you both tried anal for the first time not long after you jokingly asked him if he wanted anal as he was squishing your ass with his hands like a cat. A few days later, you're laying on your back as Leeknow is sliding his cock into you, not with too much restraint after your entire hole drenched in a flavoured lube & you also didn't know it was possible to orgasm just from having your ass licked but you now know it's possible! He still prefers your pussy, mainly because he knows your cunt & how to use & play with it through in & through out but he will never say no to it!

4.Hyunjin is definitely someone who you would never expect to be into anal play when you both got together but HOW WRONG YOU WERE WERE! I don't think he is the most desperate for it, especially when your pretty pussy is so, so inviting, but when you asked if you could both try it, there is no chance in HELL he would say no! He definitely likes to have vibrators in your pussy while he is lost in the feeling of the way your pucker clenches around his cock so hard the circulation almost cuts off but he wouldn't ever dare complain, especially with the whimpers you're letting past your lips uncontrollably.

The least likely

5.Bangchan is someone who wouldn't ever be the first one to ask for it or mention it, but if you were the one to offer it, he wouldn't decline... kinda. He is a bit apprehensive about fully fucking you, but that doesn't mean toys aren't off the table! He loooveess to use all different kinds of vibrators & dildos on you, your & his new favourite being a thin, clear glass dildo & he loves the way you whine & hiss as you feel the coldness of it, then overtime it warming up from your soft walls & he definitely speaks such sweet words to you as he plays with you in such a vulnerable state, he can't help but get butterflies about how much you trust him to do this to you!

6.Felix isn't someone who really cares about anal, he hasn't ever thought about doing it with you, he gets a bit jittery whenever the topic comes up, but who is he to deny you? You've done it a couple of times but you decided to ask him if he wanted to try it... on him, & the way his freckled cheeks went bright red instantly made you giggle & ever since then, the roles switched! Ever since this change, Felix & you are a lot more relaxed about doing it together & you both enjoy this dynamic a whole lot more. If you play with his pretty, full balls as you finger his squishy spot, he cums within thirty seconds, but you can never just let him cum once, especially in this position, because why waste such a good opportunity?

7. I think Changbin wouldn't be the most interested in anal, simply because he is just too much of a softie, especially for you!! He & you knows he is THICKKKK & he just already knows it would no doubt be uncomfortable for you. He has however, fingered your ass a few times & he loves how you react, he has also rimmed you & is a new huge kink of his (after he got rimmed by you, he had an awakening heheheh) but since you have never asked for him to fuck your ass, he has never felt the need to be the one to ask first, especially since he knows you would ask if you wanted it.

8.Seungmin. It's not that he would never try it, but he is too addicted to your pussy as it is, he is honestly just scared he will go rabid if he felt your other hole. I also just think poor minnie would be too nervous to do it, he is all for kinks but he is too scared he would hurt you, the poor baby:( If you already have experience with anal, he would probably be less scared but I also just think he would be too scared to ask you first in case you got uncomfortable at the question, so he is more than happy to bury away the tiny thoughts in the back of his mind as he is fucking you from the back into the back corner of his mind, after all, he is more than happy with your pussy.

->Taglist is open!

->Anon list is open!

[osleeplessflowero]

🔦Sleepover🌙

A pretty room in a yellow void.. you find yourself sitting on a little picnic blanket, currently playing a card game with Dream since he'd made his way into your mind by accident again. It's becoming a common occurrence, you don't really mind it though.. Dream's always been a very good friend to you, welcome in the comforts of your mind.

"Beat that!" You call out, slamming down a +4 card with a triumphant smile. He looks down at the deck, flabbergasted and putting his hands on the sides of his skull.

"You were hiding that from me!" He points at you, accusatory. A smug grin crosses your face. "Gotta take advantage of my secret weapons." "Fair enough, good job." He smiles at you. You frown a bit at that, organizing the cards again. "It's less fun when you're nice about losing." You pout, earning a soft chuckle in return. The peace is interrupted when you notice that your body is becoming transparent, fading out of view..

"Wh- What's happening? Am I dying-" You panic, earning a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Not at all, it just means you're waking up. I'll see you again sometime soon, okay?" "Wait it's like the middle of the night I can't wake up ye-"

You sit up abruptly in your bed, eyes wide open. You look around your room with an annoyed expression, disappointed that your dreams were interrupted for no reason. Damn it, body! Looks like you're not gonna be able to go back to bed for a while..

Turning your head, you look down with widened eyes when you see a skull next to you. You instinctively grab a pillow, bonking the skeleton on the head. Killer moves the blanket down a little bit, looking at you with narrowed, tired eyelights.

"whaaat.. i'm trying to sleep." You smile a little at how cute he sounds when he's sleepy, before shaking your head. "What are you doing in my room, Killer?"

"uh..sleeping- was that not clear?" He blinks slowly. "Killer, you have your own room to sleep in." You deadpan, sitting criss-cross-applesauce. He leans up a bit, resting all his weight on his right elbow so he can look at you better. "Give me the real reason."

He sighs, sitting up so he can be closer to you and putting his arms around you. Resting his skull on your shoulder, he replies. "..i got lonely, so i snuck in. i sleep better when i'm next to you."

Your face flushes a little, your hand instinctively moving up to trail patterns along his skull. "..Aw. You love me." Your smile shifts to a smug one.

"obviously." He murmurs, smiling a bit himself.

"Weeell..I'll let it slide this time. But next time ask me first before I punch you thinking you're a paralysis demon." "you can't move during sleep paralysis." "If I'm tired I won't think of that." "fair enough." He chuckles. "what're you doing awake, anyway? it's like the middle of the night. usually only nightmare's up at this hour. he's like a vampire sometimes-" He whispers that last part.

"I dunno. My body decided it'd had enough rest so now I'm wide awake and have to wait until I'm tired again in order to go to bed." "huh..that sucks. well..since you're awake, why don't we go do something fun?" "We could have a sleepover!" You whisper-shout, your eyes lighting up. "do you really wanna wake the others up?" "If they don't wanna join then they can just miss out." You shrug before standing up, smiling amusedly as you hear a whine from Killer since he isn't holding you anymore. You motion for him to get up, walking over to the side of the bed he'd been sleeping on and picking up his jacket that had fallen onto the floor, putting it on.

His grin stretches a bit when he sees you wearing it, putting his arm around your shoulders to give you a side hug before walking over to the door. You slide on your slippers since the floor's a bit cold, walking out with him into the darkness.

Before turning around, grabbing a flashlight in your room, and coming back. Not today demons.

"c'mon, i'm scarier than anything you could see in the dark." "I'm not taking chances, Killer." You point the light at him, flicking it on and off before making your way down the hall and knocking on Dust's door.

You wait a few seconds, earning no reply. Killer leans in to listen, backing up a little. "duuuust, get up we need you for somethin'-"

"go away." His voice is muffled through the door. "get out here before i drag you-" You cut Killer off, putting a hand on his chest before walking to the door.

"Dustyyy- I'll give you a smooch if you come out hereee-" You suggest with a grin, earning a deadpan look from Killer.

Shortly after the door opens, Dust looking slightly down at you. "you mean it?" "Yep." "on god?-" Killer looks between you as you lean up, reaching your hand into the dark void of Dust's hood and pressing a kiss against his cheekbone.

"Deal's a deal." You grin as you vaguely see a dark purple shade cross his face once you start leaning back. "..mkay, what do you want?" He averts his eyelights. "Me and Killer are having a sleepover because I can't sleep- wanna join us?" "well, you already got me up..guess so. but don't expect me to stay up for too long." "if you fall asleep first i'll just draw on your face again." Killer cuts in with a smirk. Dust slowly turns to face him. "i will fucking kill you-"

"Yaaay! Two out of four!" You completely ignore their bickering, walking over to Horror's door.

"don't tell me they're gonna try to get nightmare in on this." Dust looks over at Killer as they follow you. "wouldn't surprise me. who knows? maybe they can convince him. he likes them, after all." "that is true.. but i dunno. he's not the type to do stuff like this." "we'll just have to see." Killer shrugs as you knock, waiting for Horror to emerge.

"It's meeee.." You wait patiently, before he opens the door. "..what? it's like the middle of the night. can't sleep?.." He speaks with his morning voice, earning a slightly flushed expression from you before you wave it off. "I can't sleep so I'm inviting everybody for a sleepover. You wanna join? It's okay if you don't, I'll let you sleep." You smile up at the skeleton, who gives you an appreciative smile since you aren't outright pressuring him to do this.

"i guess i can for a lil' bit. but then i'm out." "Works for me." "uuugh, wait, that means they're gonna be here too-" "I'm sure you guys'll be just fine." You give him a pat on the hand as you hold it, before walking down the hall and shining your light before you.

Dust only just now notices your choice of attire. "isn't that killer's?"

"uh huh." Killer looks at him with a smug grin that he wants to punch off of it, settling for an eye roll instead.

"I saw an opportunity and I took it. You're not getting it back until tomorrow, Killer- even then that's debatable." You stick out your tongue, earning a chuckle from him as you all enter the kitchen together. You immediately go over to raid the fridge for whatever looks appetizing, Horror falling behind to make a drink for himself. Killer finds a cooler which works out in your favor, so you put drinks and anything that needs to stay cold in it. Dust simply looks out into the hall at something vacantly.

"This is gonna be fun-" You smile, satisfied with your search.

"hey, uh, where are we going for this anyway? are we like going back to your room or the living room orrr?" Killer lifts the cooler with magic, not feeling like carrying it himself at the moment.

"I have a more fun idea." You grin, pointing towards the window.

"outside, huh?..could be spooooky.." "I put up fairy lights out there a while back, and I haven't had a good chance to look at 'em. So this is a great chance! Plus we could put up a blanket for a projector and watch something together."

"look at you, plannin' things in advance." Horror ruffles your hair, a fond smile on his face. Your own face flushes a bit as you lean into his touch.

"What the hell are you all doing in here?"

Killer jumps into Dust's arms Scooby-Doo style with a yelp, shaking. The latter simply rolls his eyelights.

"Hey, Night! Glad you could make it." You smile smugly, giving Horror a squeeze before walking over to him.

"It's the middle of the night, usually I am the only one awake at this hour. What are you doing?" He turns to you as you lean into him, rolling his eyelights as his tentacles give away his joy to see you by swaying about similarly to a dog's tail.

"We're having a group sleepover, I was about to ask you to join, but here you are!" You grin. "Dearest, if you'd have tried to wake me, had I been asleep, the results wouldn't have been favorable, I'm afraid."

"called it." Dust comments, dropping Killer and earning a "hey!" from him on the floor.

"Pleeeease join us- it'll be fun, I swear! Please please please-" "Dearest, I've got a ton of work to do, I cannot- Don't give me the face."

You blink innocently, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Damn you-" He sighs. "Fine."

"Yaaaay!" You cheer, spinning him around before making your way outside. He lets out an amused huff, before turning to the others.

"Well? The fuck are you standing around for?"

..They each follow you out, Nightmare being last.

Clapping your hands, lights that have been strung up across Nightmare's lawn illuminate the area with a light glow (the color of your soul). You rush to the best spot, an open space between two trees that has just enough room for everybody to sit.

Horror places down some blankets, along with raising one up for the projector since he's the tallest here. Killer puts a radio down, playing some music. Dust is on cooler duty, making sure it's propped up to where it won't be tipped over. Nightmare simply observes, standing beside you.

Your staring is interrupted once Killer grabs your hand, spinning you both around in circles to the music, much to your amusement. Nightmare leans his back on one of the trees, watching the two of you with an amused smile. Horror sits down at an edge of the blanket, relaxing. Dust mutters to an invisible force, seeming to be lost in thought.

Letting out a laugh, you turn to Nightmare. "Hey, Night! C'mere, let's dance together."

"Oh, no, I'm afraid I'll have to decline, Dearest." He holds up a hand. "C'mon, you're a great dancer, I've seen it before! It'll be fuuun." You hold out your hand to him. "yeah, c'mon, boss! have a little fun. you've been all work and no play recently."

"I.." He looks between the two of you, feeling his cheekbones heat up a little before fading away. "Very well, if that is what you wish." He walks over, taking your hand, before abruptly dipping you down. "Just don't expect me to go easy on you."

Your face burns as he raises you back up, the two of you dancing around to a different tune that begins to play. Killer sneaks up behind Dust, spooking him before they have a conversation about something random. Horror even adds a few words in!

"Look at you, making changes..how in the multiverse have you managed to do something like that?" Nightmare raises a browbone, his single eyelight meeting your opposing eye.

"I don't really know, to tell you the truth, but..I love you guys. I want to spend the rest of my life here with all of you.. no matter what that takes." "Is that so?.." "..Yeah." You smile, earning a small smile from him as well.

"Well..the others are quite fond of you. I'm sure you'll be able to live here comfortably for a very long time." "And..you? What do you think of me?" You ask, a slight amount of worry hidden in your voice. "Dearest, you should already know how I feel." He comes to a stop, raising a hand to lift your chin gently, placing his thumb over your lips. "You've stolen my heart, you little thief. You've stolen their hearts too..something I'd thought to be an impossible feat." As your face flushes even darker than before, you smile up at him as he moves his hand away, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Earning that flushed reaction you've been waiting for.

"How would you feel if I did it all over again?"

He chuckles.

"My dear.. I fear you may never be rid of us if you keep doing that." "I'm perfectly fine with that."

Once the two of you separate, Killer puts his arms around you both. "heeey, don't leave me out, lovebirds! there's still plenty of time left to have some fun!" You laugh, pressing a kiss to Killer's cheek before Nightmare tells him to stop touching him. Dust sets up the projector as you all find your spots, you sitting right in the middle so everyone can surround you. Horror sits behind you, Nightmare at your right, Dust at your left, and Killer between your legs, laying down. You gesture for Horror to lean down, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone as well.

With a satisfied grin, you turn to the blanket, watching the previews play. God, do you love your skeleton boys.

[partycatty]

kenshi takahashi > we should know better

warnings: smut :3 sneaky link type shit, possible ooc kenshi bc i know he's reserved but i couldn't get this idea out of my head

notes: i need him so BAYD. hot take, kenshi's hotter than johnny but johnny has a more appealing personality LOL

[ masterlist ]

• kenshi knew better, he knew so much better than to indulge in the sweet little vice you were.

• he was quiet, you were quieter. kung lao and raiden had each other and fengjian, johnny had his fans, and kenshi had a corrupt family ensnared in dangerous practices. for the most part, he was on his own... and for the first time in a long time, there was someone who knew what that was like.

• kenshi expected to think low of the other chosen earthrealmers, not too worried about the competition given his skills and history. but you... you had some bite to you, and kenshi would often find himself aching to the thought of your strength and resilience.

• with a trained ear and shielded eyes courtesy of his forearm, kenshi would slowly pump at his cock in the late hours, drool collecting in his mouth at the thought of you milking him or all he's worth with your soft, plump lips.

• that, or stretching your needy cunt so wide and slapping the tears away from your plush, rosy cheeks. low grunts slipped from his throat as he painted his palm, pathetically wishing to fill you with his cum and thrust it back into your pussy.

• nothing ever undid him like you before, had him so winded by the curves of your body that he'd start to fall behind on training or arrive at odd times from the loss of sleep. upon confrontation, he'd give a gruff rumble about sleeping in or any other pathetic excuse he could muster up with the stoicism he had left.

• just who the hell did you think you were? you had no right to distract kenshi the way you do, but it's not even like you're trying. he wants, no, needs to feel you, maybe then he'll be satiated and clear-headed.

• the day came where you hinted at your shared desires, throwing a flirty comment his way when you were out of earshot from the others. one knowing glance and the sway of your hips was all it took to have kenshi stand in your doorway, tongue heavy in his mouth as he awaits plunging it into your core. he can't find the words to express it, so he instead stands there and hopes you understand the shared intentions.

• you're at each other like animals, clawing away the orange robes and kissing so harshly your lips are properly wet when you pull away for air.

• as much as kenshi wants to take his time, his cock practically aches so hard it hurts in his pants, and grinding it against you isn't getting him where he needs to be.

• he's shy about his carnal desire, too afraid to make eye contact so he puts his palm pressing into your back to force an arch, sometimes even holding your head onto the sheets as he drills into you from behind. the way your ass bounces against his hips leaves him nearly cross-eyed, pleasing him beyond what he could do to himself.

• these become common occurrences, kenshi lumbering in your doorway with a heavy look about him. odd hours of the night became your favorite because you knew it was another night of so many orgasms you'd tunnel vision.

• you're absolutely addictive, making his jaw clench and arms cross tight against his body when he side-eyes you during training. if one of the boys even thinks about drawing your private attention, you're swept off into the gardens where you'll be fucked to tears, pussy molded perfectly to his cock and his cock only.

• it was the only time he'd ever call you his. he wouldn't be physically affectionate, not much anyway. he'd sleep through the night but disappear before morning, whether to avoid suspicion or avoid confrontation you couldn't decipher.

• as good as the dick was, you didn't want a situationship, you wanted more. kenshi was nearly impossible to read at times, scowling your way as if he wasn't tongue-fucking you the night prior. you want to ask him what his deal is, what you two are, but his presence is quite intimidating otherwise.

• liu kang speaks of the tournament, the thing that brought everyone here in the first place. as you exchange glances with the boys, you finally land on kenshi, brows knitted in concern. what was to come of you two ate away at you, and there was an underlying fear that once the tournament was over, you'd return home and he'd go back to japan. the so-called meaningless sex would claw away at you forever as you'd dream about what could've been.

• your mouth feels sewn shut, as much as you want to ask all the questions burning away at you, but kenshi just stares ahead, expression never faltering.

• he couldn't look at you, he couldn't bring himself to face the idea of losing you... but he didn't quite know how to escape the situation he built. would you even accept him for who he really is beyond the sex? was it really meaningless? kenshi wasn't sure if he wanted the answer.

[jooillusion]

hii :)))

so that photo of seungmin's back... isn't like gym sex perfect for him? like he clearly knowing that he's being watched and then flex even more and in the end we end up in the locker room... i mean, this man makes want to scratch and mark all his back 🤭

-🎱

YESSS OMG

seungmin literally has the prettiest body and i feel like he loves to show off a little (his bubble ARF ARF ARF)

ugh just imagine working at the front desk of the gym and he’d come in every day. you got the perfect view of him working out, watching his biceps bulge when he lifts weights and his back muscles fill out when he does chest presses. you wouldn’t even notice when another person had walked in and it became a common occurrence for your coworker having to scold you for not paying attention.

the first time be caught you looking, you thought it’d be the only time, your eyes quickly looking down and you having to pretend like you’re something behind the counter. when you thought the coast was clear you look up again, catching him smiling at you and shaking his head in amusement.

it became a repetitive thing though, him either glancing at you looking at him through the mirror at you watching or turning his head to see if you saw that. you still pretended to have shame though, only looking when he wasn’t paying that much attention towards you.

the more you stared though the more the warnings piled up. your boss appointed you to clean the locker rooms for the rest of the week and you were disappointed since you couldn’t get your fill of entertainment. you sweep the tile floors, cursing at your boss under your breath for having to make you clean the locker room that seemed never ending.

you were finally in the last row, wiping the sweat that beaded across your forehead, glancing at the clock that was perched on the wall, noticing that it was way past the usual time the stranger—seungmin you think due to looking at his membership—would show up and leave. you shake your head, continuing to sweep to pass by time.

“excuse me?” you hear from behind your shoulder. the voice irritated you even more since you left a sign outside of the locker room door to indicate that it was closed for now. your breathe in before turning around.

“sorry but the locker room isn’t…” you trail off, the voice belonging to him. your stop dead in your tracks, his shirt off and a light drops of sweat rolling down his arms. your eyes trail downwards, looking at his toned stomach. your eyes scan the ink that adorns his rib and finally down to the deep v-line that is cut off by his gym shorts that loosely rest low on his hips. you clear your throat again, shaking your head to regain focus. “the locker room isn’t open right now.”

you can’t tell whether or not the smile on his face is either friendly or cocky, but he looks down to the floor, leaning against the cold steel of the lockers before he looks back up at you.

“you should at least let me get my shirt out of my locker.”

“excuse me?” you scoff, setting the broom down.

“you know, with all the staring you do. do you have any humility?” he laughs, walking past you and stopping once he reaches his locker. “seungmin, by the way. did you enjoy the seungmin show?”

your words are caught in the back of your throat and you’re stuck with stuttering out an excuse. seungmin watches, digging inside of his locker for the shirt and mindlessly nodding, pulling his sleeveless shirt over his head. the slam of the small locker door shutting stops anymore words from leaving your mouth.

“maybe get a video next time, pretty girl. it’ll save you some of the trouble.” seungmin winks, walking past you and leaving you behind with a dropped jaw.

UGH AND imagine after that you haven’t stared at him since and it pisses him off a little bit. seungmin likes your attention obviously and it’d be easier to tease you the next time he runs into you, maybe asking you was his form perfect or ask you how many pull ups he did as if you knew.

but he couldn’t even do that, since he watched you like a hawk through the mirror and you haven’t looked up from your computer once, the only time being is when you would welcome people in.

yeah, seungmin was pissed.

he watches your boss tell you something that he can’t hear, watching you leave from behind the counter to grab your broom and dustpan. you made sure to show your frustrations, placing the big “locker rooms closed” sign outside of the room.

but seungmin will just do like he did last time, walk right past the sign to get his shirt from his locker.

you on the other hand is not too please when you hear footsteps again for the third time, slowly getting more and more frustrated due to the gym head bastards ignoring the big ass sign you put outside of the locker room. you inhale, ready to put bass inside of your voice at the fourth—and hopefully last—person to enter the locker room, but your words are stuck yet again at the sight of seungmin.

he looks a bit different than when you last saw him a few weeks ago, his body slightly bulkier and his abs more defined. you shut your eyes trying to show self restraint, taking another deep inhale before looking at him one more time.

“you know you can’t be in here. please leave.”

“i just want my shirt.” he says, almost emotionless. you roll your eyes.

“make it quick.” you say and he nods, walking past you to his locker. he eyes you, watching you go back to sweeping and completely ignoring his presence. it bruises his ego a little bit, but he keeps his mouth shut as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“wait,” you stop sweeping, turning around. seungmin raises an eyebrow. “can i have a little feel?”

seungmin’s somewhat bruised pride swells again. “where?”

“here?” your hand comes up to his bicep. he turns his arm towards you and curls his arm, the muscles of his arms bulging as he flexes. you give it a squeeze, your eyes widening. “you’re really strong.”

“oh yeah?” you nod your head, your hands traveling up and down his arm, giving small squeezes on the firm muscles. “you know what else i can lift?”

“what?”

seungmin moves, turning completely towards you and grabbing your waist. he lifts you off of your feet, gasping once he pushes your back against the lockers, your legs wrapping around his torso so you wouldn’t fall.

“i’ve been wanting to do this ever since i caught you in here last time.” seungmin says just above whisper, his sweatpants growing tight in the front once his mind is able to register your clothed heat against his pelvis. he knew you two had been painfully attracted to one another, but he didn’t dare make another move until your eyes were on his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, making it crystal clear that you both wanted this.

your hands run over his broad shoulders and down the smooth skin his back, “but what if another person walks in?”

“then let them. it’ll probably be the highlight of their day.” you both share a chuckle that evaporates into the air.

seungmin buries his face into the flesh of your neck, his flexed arms burning. he doesn’t mind the burn, blaming it on himself for only focusing on arm workouts today, but your warmth and hushed breaths pay for it, leaving seungmin no room to complain.

your head falls against the locker with a thump, trying to distract yourself from the orgasm building up. seungmin angles his hips at a better angle, his cock deliciously hitting your g spot, making you squeal a little too loudly. your nails bite deep down in the flesh his shoulder blades to his back, raking over the scratches you had left not that long ago.

seungmin couldn’t hold back the sharp hiss and whine that’d been bubbling up in his throat, his hips snapping into you, shuddering at the cold air that tickles the raw scratches. his flush palms dig into your waist, holding you tighter when he feels your walls clench around him. “god, you feel so good.” he breathes out, lapping at your neck before roughly biting into it.

you feel your heartbeat throbbing out of your chest, the heavy thumps beating through your ears in contrast with the sound of seungmin’s hips meeting the back of your thighs. you pant, arms swings around seungmin’s marked shoulders as you pull him in close, panting hot onto the skin.

seungmin feels your body tense under the flex of his fingers, moving you up and down to match the movement of his hips. he roughly pushes you against the lockers in response to the tug of your warm, tightening walls, bleaching his mind blank. you’re too far gone to notice and he’s just as desperate as you, fucking you like his life depended on it as he chases his orgasm that blooms in the pit of his stomach.

the harsh thrust that seungmins hips deliver is all your orgasm needs, the loud wail that comes straight from your throat rings through seungmins ear like a bell. it’s your body’s turn to shudder as it comes undone, your eyebrows knitting together and seungmins palm covering your open mouth.

“i still need to cum.” he says weakly between breaths, sliding down your body and back to your waist. his still hips began to thrust into you again, slow enough to not overstimulated you too much but still pleasurable enough for him.

your legs snugly wrap around his torso. his hand over your mouth muffles the mewls that escape your lips, giving one, two more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of you in thick ropes.

seungmins head falls into the steel lockers behind you. he heavily pants into your clothed shoulder, his hands offering soft squeezes into the meat of your waist. you two stay like that for god knows however long, blissed out and completely unaware of the everything around you. he pulls away once his breathing steadies, lifting you up gently to pull you off his length. he helps you pull up your trousers and steady yourself before pulling up his own.

“are you guys finally done?” a voice calls from one of the far rows of the room. and you know that loud, annoying voice that likes to bitch from anywhere—it belongs to your boss.

please remember that this is a work of pure fiction.

[mariasont]

Training Day - A.H

a/n: you all wanted more bimbo!assistant!reader and i'm a woman of the people so here we are

on a real note i love her and she is my queen

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you don't understand why hotch is giving you training lessons, but apparently he thinks you need it

warnings: talking about men following her in public YUCK, hotch trying to train reader, reader not knowing what's going on, cuties being cute

wc: 0.8k

"I still don't really know why we're doing this."

You were grumbling more than was characteristic for you, with every part of your body, your arms, your legs, and even your ass, suffering from a dull ache--sadly, not the result of any enjoyable pastime. After being knocked over more times than you cared to count, Hotch extended his hand toward you. You gladly took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

Your fingers deftly pulled at your pink tracksuit top over the sliver of abdomen that that had been revealed in your less-than-graceful take down. Hotch had pointed out the impracticality of your outfit when you showed up, but you stood firm on the principle that if early training sessions were expected of you, then your attire would be non-negotiable.

"Because I want to be confident in your abilities to defend yourself." His arms folded over his chest as his gaze bore into you, challenging you to contradict him.

"I'm just here to look pretty and answer your phones, crime-fighting isn't in my job description. That's your thing, Mr."

You shuffled back to your original position anyway, hands coming up to shield your face as you mentally sorted through the steps, or at least tried to, struggling to recall the correct foot placement.

"Shoulder width apart."

It's like he could read your mind. You were not entirely convinced that he couldn't.

"Crime-fighting doesn't have to be your thing," Hotch stated, narrowing the gap between you, his hands firmly correcting your stance. You sometimes found an excuse to stand just so, hoping he would step in to manhandle you into place. "But being part of the BAU, even peripherally, means you're not immune to risks. I need to know you can handle yourself... for my piece of mind."

"Sir, is this like, your super-secret way of showing you care?"

Your lips twisted into a half-smile as his hands clasped your waist a little tighter than necessary: a warning that said you were playing with fire. His fingers then moved to direct yours, positioning them closer to your face, his knuckles lightly grazing across your cheek in the process.

"Eyes on me, stay focused."

"My eyes are always on you, sir," you say, your head canting to one side. 

He released a controlled breath, giving you a level look that signaling you were pushing it. Nevertheless, you flashed him a beaming smile and initiated the move he had been drilling into you. The tip of your elbow made contact with the soft of his stomach.

He issued a muted groan as he intercepted your arm, preventing it from digging further, and in a fluid motion he spun you around, pinning your backside to his front.

"That was perfect, right?" you squealed, your fist shooting up in victory.

The sudden jump caused his hands to shift from your arm, finding a new perch on your hips to steady your... enthusiastic bounce.

You whirled in his grasp, the proximity sending a faint hum through his chest. Clearing his throat, he managed. "Yes, uh, that was it."

Clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpled beneath your purple-tipped fingers, you giggled. "Just imagine someone trying to follow me to my car now. They wouldn't know what hit 'em!"

"Is that a common occurrence?" The lines of his face gathered into that customary look of concern, that characteristic frown of his making an appearance.

He gently disentangled your hands from his shirt, not letting go, but rather laying his atop of yours.

"Well, sometimes, but I usually just call Morgan, put him on speaker, and he starts talking about the FBI stuff," you explained, giving a light shrug that nudged the zipper of your jacket down just a smidge. "They take off after that."

He clenched his eyes shut, pausing momentarily before reopening it. One hand let go of yours to adjust the zipper back to its proper position.

"That makes my stomach hurt." And it did. "Don't hesitate to call me when that happens. I'll come get you."

Your smile stretched ear to ear, potent enough to make him feel lightheaded. "You know, with all these trainings, who needs to call for help?"

"How about we compromise, and you still call me, regardless?"

You pout your lips, shiny with clear gloss rather than your usual pink. "That sounds less like a compromise and more like a you thing, ya know?"

Hotch's laughter rumbled from his chest, a warm, breathy sound, as he let go of your hands, which he realized he had been holding far longer than appropriate, and guided you to the door.

"You don't appreciate the added precautions I'm willing to take for your safety?"

Dragging your sneaker on the floor, you plucked your bag from the wall as Hotch closed the door behind you. "Gee, when you say it like that..."

When you walked down the hall you seemed to be perfectly in step.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @sarcasm-and-stiles

join my taglist here

[jae-bummer]

Wrong Number

Request: Can I request n° 14 from your prompt list with shownu or woozi pls 🥺omg I love your works 💗💗

Prompt:

14) You accidentally send a text meant for your ex to the wrong number. Your bias replies.

Pairing: Seventeen Woozi x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Song rec as you read: Still Here (Acoustic Ver.) - ATEEZ

.

Chewing on your lip, you stared down at your phone screen, tapping it lightly whenever it began to dim. All you had to do was hit send.

You read the message over and over again, trying to determine if it sounded like you were trying too hard. After nearly ten different variations of the same message, you deleted it all again and settled for something a little more profound.

Hey :)

Was the smiley face too much? You didn't want to seem too eager. Maybe you should - shit, you brushed against the send button.

Flying into a bit of a panic, you decided it would be the best course of action to send another message.

It was really good seeing you yesterday! I hadn't expected us to bump into each other, but I'm glad we did.

You took a deep breath before tapping send again.

That was a little better. If he had deleted your number, at least now he could figure out who you were via context clues.

Leaning back into your couch, you wished the cushions would simply swallow you up. You were mortified with your increased heartbeat. How could you let yourself get so worked up over a guy who had broken up with you?

And it wasn't a delicate breakup. You had been seeing him for nearly a year when he decided to tell you (through text you might add) that it simply wasn't working out anymore. He was your first real boyfriend since coming to Seoul, so you could admit that part of you would always hold a soft spot for him.

That's why, when you bumped into him at a cafe yesterday, you couldn't stop your stomach from plunging to your toes. He was still just as beautiful as you had remembered. Asking for his contact information felt like a fever dream now. At some point in your post-breakup anger, you had deleted any of his information that still lived in your phone. To save face, you told him you lost all of your contacts after getting a new device.

You couldn't quite remember if he had mentioned meeting to catch up or if it was you, but you left the experience in a daze. It took you hours to talk yourself into taking the plunge and sending that text. Now all there was left to do was wait.

It had been only minutes before you heard the high-pitched ding.

Vulnerability was not your strong suit. Even something as simple as allowing yourself to hope was a dangerous route to go down, so you tried to squash the optimistic butterflies that sprang up in your stomach before they could take flight.

Steeling yourself, you finally looked at the screen.

wrong number

You jerked backward as if you had been slapped. Maybe he hadn't picked up on the context clues after all.

It's Y/N. You gave me your number, remember?

Surely you hadn't dreamed up the entire interaction. He must not have been expecting you to actually text. Well, that stung a bit.

You flinched as your phone dinged an instant later.

still wrong number

You double checked the contact you had texted and felt your face grow flush. Your stomach felt hollow. Did your ex seriously give you a fake number?

Just so we're clear...this isn't a joke...right? This really isn't Jae?

Typing bubbles immediately appeared.

nope. sorry.

You blinked dumbly at the screen. God, how could you have been so stupid?

..

Woozi tilted his head as he glanced at the screen. When he had read the first message, he automatically assumed his number had been leaked again. It wasn't a common occurrence, but it was known to happen on occasion. After the second message came through shortly after, he narrowed his eyes. He hadn't even left his studio yesterday.

"What's up?" Hoshi asked, shifting to sit up from his lounging position on the couch.

"Wrong number," Woozi muttered, placing his phone face down beside his keyboard.

"Weird," Hoshi hummed.

Woozi's phone vibrated again, causing him to sigh.

"I thought it was a wrong number," Hoshi chuckled.

"I did too," Woozi grumbled, typing back a quick response. He had no idea who Y/N was or how they got ahold of his number, so he was certainly not who they were looking for.

After his phone vibrated again, he let out a small huff.

"What is going on over there?" Hoshi laughed, now moving to hunch over the shorter member's shoulder.

"Nothing," Woozi said shortly, attempting to set his phone back down before Hoshi snatched it from his hand.

"Aw," he clucked, holding the device high enough into the air that Woozi knew he would look ridiculous trying to jump for it. "Well, that's sad."

"Yep," Woozi groaned. "Now give it back."

"Wait," Hoshi chuckled, now typing quickly on the screen. "I need the tea."

"You need the what?" Woozi asked, now increasingly annoyed. Choosing to make a fool of himself after all, he began to hop around Hoshi, tugging at his arms in a futile attempt to get the phone back.

"The tea," Hoshi clarified. "Let's live vicariously through someone else's misery."

"I have enough of my own," Woozi groaned. "Now give it back."

"Ooooh," Hoshi said, spinning so his back faced the other man. "Jae is the ex-boyfriend."

Woozi rolled his eyes. "Why do you care?"

"Oh my god, he gave them this number," Hoshi gasped. "He ghosted them and doxed you in the process."

"Doxing requires them knowing who I am," Woozi sighed, crossing his arms. "And it sounds like all of this was just a coincidence. Now, please give me my phone and leave me alone."

"Fine," Hoshi pouted, dropping it into Woozi's palm. "Party pooper."

Shaking his head, Woozi plopped back into his desk chair and went back to work. After a few minutes, he had completely forgotten all about the person who had texted him and brought their misfortune to his doorstep.

Or at least he thought he did.

After hitting a wall while creating a new song, he looked idly around the room in search of inspiration. This was the hardest part of his job, having to work around the writer's block.

Lifting a brow, his gaze settled on his cell.

Flipping it back over, he tapped through it aimlessly before finally settling on the chat that Hoshi had continued.

who's jae btw???

Hoshi and his need for unnecessary punctuation.

He's my ex-boyfriend. He said this number was his. Prepare yourself for any other jilted lovers that might be heading your way.

Woozi shook his head. Why couldn't people just be straightforward with each other?

ugh that's the worst. i'm so sorry.

It was the worst and Woozi was sorry. That didn't mean that he wanted Hoshi to continue the conversation.

Thanks :) I appreciate that. I'll stop bothering you and crawl back into my hole now.

Woozi set down his phone and turned back to his screen. He had been in his share of unsuccessful relationships and seen plenty amongst his members. In none of those situations had something like this happened before.

Clicking through various windows for a few moments, he heaved a deep sigh before grabbing his phone again. Before he could think better of it, he began to type.

you doing ok?

It was short and not too invasive. He wasn't looking for any new friends, but he could at least be a decent human being. Plus, this could be just the inspiration he needed to continue his song. Heartbreaks were always a hit.

...

You squinted blearily into the darkness of your bedroom.

you up?

Chuckling to yourself, you turned the brightness down on your phone before responding.

Lee Jihoon, you DID NOT just send me a "u up?" text.

The response came shortly after.

i used "you" not "u." give me some credit.

Rolling your eyes, you settled back into your pillows with a smile. It had been about a month since you had purposefully texted your ex, while accidentally texting Woozi. You hadn't expected for anything to come out of the situation and there was definitely no way that you would've seen this turn of events coming.

You liked him. Against your better judgement, you were crushing on a complete stranger that happened his way into your life. At this point, you had exchanged countless texts, hours on the phone, and photos of your day. Woozi worked a lot, so on occasion, you would even sit on FaceTime and work quietly together. Just having each other for company was comforting in a way that you hadn't found with another person in quite some time. It had all been a bit of a shock, but you complimented each other well.

On several occasions, you had attempted to meet up, but life was hard for both of you. With Woozi's schedules, it was difficult to stay on the same square in the calendar. Admittedly, you had been the one to cancel once or twice as well, but the time had finally come. You were supposed to meet today.

Which made Woozi's text all the more concerning.

Is this the part where you have to cancel on our plans today?

You glanced at the time, noting it was still the early morning hours. Either he hadn't gone to bed yet, or he was waking up much too soon.

ye of little faith.

i'm not cancelling. i'm just not sleeping well.

You lifted a brow. Normally, he wasn't one to be prejudice against a sleeping situation. Since he got so little of it, he often could fall asleep anytime, anywhere.

That is, unless his brain was working overtime.

What's got your brain going this time?

You waited only seconds.

you

You inhaled sharply. Woozi was generally a direct person. Getting him to talk about his emotions, and more specifically, his opinion of you, was a bit more difficult though. Sometimes he was able to speak in such a straight way that it caught you off guard. Other times, he relied on the soft, quiet moments in between to really convey how he felt.

Me?

This time, he typed for a while.

yes, you i'm probably only saying this bc i can be a coward behind a keyboard BUT i'm nervous about today in a good way but...another part of me is scared that we're putting each other on these pedestals that are much too tall. how can reality actually reflect the image of you that my mind has created?

You sniffed in amusement.

It would have been much easier to say you're scared that this is too good to be true.

The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared several times. You knew he was going to come back with something sassy.

i don't do "easy" well, y/n

He had that right.

Rolling over onto your side, you chewed your lip. You could easily admit that you probably had an idealized version of Woozi in your head. It was hard not to when you got to see the best parts of each other every day. That being said, it didn't mean that that image was wrong. It just wasn't factoring in the darker side of his personality. Everyone had one and you wouldn't fault him for being human.

It'll work out. We both know that there's still so much to learn about each other. We just need to be patient and have a little faith.

He hearted your response before his own appeared.

my y/n. so wise.

Your heart fluttered at the simple words. Seeing him acknowledge that you were his made you feel full. You knew you were right. Everything would work out fine.

....

Spinning your phone around on the tabletop, your brain warred against you. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Unlike most people your age, you had never met with someone from the internet before, let alone a stranger you had accidentally texted in a fit of love sickness. Woozi had insisted that he had never done anything like this before either, so that brought at least a small amount of solace.

Plus, everyone you had ever met had been a stranger at one point.

And Woozi really hadn't been what you would consider a "stranger" for some time now.

You looked up from the cafe table for the hundredth time as someone entered.

Still not him.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded to yourself. Everything would be alright. You had told Woozi as much this morning. Now it was time to believe it.

"Hey stranger," a familiar voice hummed from above you. Glancing up, you met the shining, dark eyes you had only ever seen on a phone screen. It felt surreal.

"Jihoon," you breathed, a smile stretching across your lips.

"Well, come on," he clucked, motioning for you to stand. You did as directed, nearly forgetting to breath as he wrapped you in a quick hug.

"Sorry," he said, pulling away almost instantly. "I should've asked if you were okay with physical affection. Are you?"

You nodded weakly, trying to find a coherent thought through the cloud of Woozi's scent. He didn't smell strongly of anything aside from clean laundry, but it was enough to catch you off guard. He was in front of you, looking gorgeous and smelling comforting. It almost felt impossible.

"You sure?" he asked, his mouth hitching up at the corner. He slid into the seat across from where you were sitting.

Plopping dumbly back into your own seat, you shook your head. Get ahold of yourself, Y/N.

"Sorry," you croaked. "I'm just trying to...uh...wrap my brain around...well, you."

Woozi smiled, his cheeks going slightly pink. "I know what you mean."

Glancing around the cafe, he set his hands in front of him. "Let's just wait a moment...to take everything in?"

You nodded, immediately allowing yourself to look at him directly. His cuteness definitely transferred to how he looked in person. He wore his hair as you usually saw it, dark, long, and slightly wavy. He had a solid jawline and a cute, button nose (the deadliest combination). His shoulders and arms were much wider and more muscular than you had expected, which was both attractive and terrifying.

Overall, he was breathtaking.

He seemingly refused to look at you though. Continuing his search around his surroundings, you noticed his fingers slowly begin to creep toward yours. Halting before they got to their destination, he deigned a glimpse your way.

"You were right," he said quietly.

"That's good to hear," you grinned. "But what about?"

Finally placing his hand on top of yours, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "I wanted this before, but now that I have you in front of me, I want to know everything. The pedestal was high, but you're still sitting on top of it."

You were positive you were about to short circuit. Who just walked around saying things like that?

"Who would have thought," you managed. "That I would have an ex-boyfriend to thank for giving me the wrong number."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA For Not Budging On A Potentially Unconventional Need?

I (M20+) have BPD and Autism, and when I was younger, they'd both team up to cause me a lot of struggle.

One of the biggest things I used to do was self isolate when I was upset or worried, and just sit around after throwing out some red flags, hoping someone would read my mind and ask me if I was alright.

OBVIOUSLY THAT WASN'T VERY HEALTHY, neither for myself or for others. I definitely think that was an "ESH" time period.

So now that I'm older, in therapy, taking meds, and generally doing better and am a lot happier, I put clear communication as my #1 priority in all of my relationships.

I don't phrase anything in a way that sounds confrontational, I don't tell people what they can or can't do, who they can or can't talk with, don't get jealous too easily, etc. I only ask for honesty, compromise, and mutual respect for boundaries.

I really thought I was doing well for myself by swapping "I won't communicate at all" out for "I need to communicate often"

But one thing that I just can't seem to stop is the paranoia when it comes to people I'm particularly close and very vulnerable with; I'll notice certain changes in their demeanor and worry it's because I've done something wrong, or that they don't like me as much anymore. Sometimes I CAN brush it off and wait it out until I'm inadvertently proven otherwise.

But if it's not going away, and I'm worried it's just getting worse, I need to just ask for their honest thoughts and get it over with. If for some reason they were actually upset, my intention would NOT be to double down or lash out. I just DON'T want to be strung along by a lie, as has happened!

This isn't really that common of an occurrence either. Maybe every few weeks during particularly hard periods.

I don't feel this way about people I'm not very close to, and people who do manage to get very close to me know this about me; I keep no secrets about my mental health and try to be extremely upfront. A lot of people will say at first that they understand, but over time, I'll eventually get that flack and heartache from them, saying that it's just too exhausting for them. At best, I'm kinda teased for it. It's made me feel like I haven't made as much progress in my recovery as I thought I had, which sucks.

It's not me starting arguments or fights, or accusing them of anything. Just me saying "Hey, I've been feeling a little paranoia lately, is everything okay between us? Is there anything we should talk about?" or something like that.

I'm really conflicted about it.

On one hand, I feel like if things are okay, it shouldn't be difficult or tiring to say "Nope, everything's alright, dw!" If you still like me in a certain way, why would it be tiring to just say so? It takes maybe five seconds to type/say. The only way I can see it being tiring is if they were just telling me white lies about how they felt, and had to maintain the act.

On the other hand, I know BPD isn't without its delusions, and that Autism isn't without its "misunderstanding of social norms". I know I'm likely to see things differently from others. I know it's not exactly EASY to love someone like me. Maybe it IS too much of a demand, and I've just convinced myself it's not?

This IS something I'm trying to work through in therapy regardless, but I just worry that it isn't a symptom that will ever fully go away, and instead it needs to be worked with.

Am I the asshole for standing by that, at LEAST for now? Is it fair? Or is that too much of a need for people to reasonably accommodate? Am I just not trying hard enough to be better?

If I ever got particularly close to someone again, would I be an asshole for again insisting that if I need reassurance to dismiss an oncoming spiral, they should be able to meet that need instead of asking that I keep the paranoia to myself and just deal with it on my own? Which may or may not work, or even make things worse.

I know it can make people feel like I don't trust them. That much I do understand! But I've tried telling them that it's not that I don't trust or respect them, I don't trust or respect myself. I dunno if that makes sense to anyone without BPD, though.

This is both a "Was I the asshole?" and a "Would I be the asshole?" ask I guess, lol

[astonmartingf]

IMPECCABLE TIMING . . . 🏁🍒🏎️

LICENSE TO DRIVE ; f1 driver!oc x platonic! f1 grid

. . . as a part of katarina's media duties in the paddock, the press questions about her "sudden" move to porsche, with people theorizing about her impeccable timing of doom.

amgf 2.1k words... set during the bahrain pre-race press conference, mention of red bull controversy, implied media play, mystery(?)

license to drive ; masterlist

SITTING FOR INTERVIEWS ISN'T REALLY KATARINA'S FORTE, just like the other drivers she'd rather race. But at the same time, she enjoys the chaos press interviews bring. Especially for the upcoming 2024 season, a lot has happened over the winter break.

One transfer which Katarina is heavily involved in, and despite not being one to tell all to the press, the feeling of slow feeding information to journalists, leaving crumbs of information here and there, laying down innuendos is more than enough for her to agree for the press conference schedule.

It's the first race of the season, drama is about to unfold, and Katarina is ready to watch them all from the palm of her hand.

Greeting the drivers, she sits right beside Lewis as the conference had just begun, with the host talking to Lando furthest to her. At the same time, Carlos walked from the sea of reporters, Lewis teasing him, gesturing his watch.

Katarina scoots over to the edge, with Carlos situated next to Lewis. Opting to get interviewed last, knowing very well of the questions she's about to receive.

The female driver keeps herself busy with her thoughts, listening in to some of the drivers and their questions. As much as she hated interviews listening in to the drivers answer repetitive questions was funny up to a point.

"This season is not only filled with finales but also debuts. Shocking everyone during the first half of winter break, having moved from Red Bull to Porsche. In her 8th season we have Katarina Lombardi— how do you feel about moving teams and debuting in Porsche for the season?"

Katarina smiles, picking up the microphone from Carlos beside her. "What a lengthy introduction that was. I think it was a pretty good move, I mean for me I moved a few times before, nothing shocking really it's just fun. I'm absolutely happy in Porsche— not that I wasn't in Red Bull mind you."

She clears the air and jokes around realizing the cameras pointing at her on live television. Watching Max from the corner squinting his eyes playfully, earning a small laugh from Karina.

"To me like what Lewis and Carlos have said, moving is a common occurrence in the sport, I mean just four years ago I was in Mercedes, and then moved to Red Bull, and now I'm in Porsche. It's our first year together and things are definitely looking interesting. Not just for me but for the whole team, we're learning together and getting through the ropes, I'm happy and I hope we can deliver through more of our goals."

Katarina smiles, satisfied with her answer, if it wasn't evident with the big smile on her face one can clearly see how she's enjoying this season. In fact, Katarina is excited, having worked with the car, their only goal was to score points, and if possible chase Max in his rocketship of a Red Bull.

Despite the rumors of her falsely being kicked out of Red Bull, Katarina left in her own volition. Offered a seat in Porsche, the female asked one question before solidifying a contract with the team.

When Porsche revealed they were planning on signing Liam Lawson to the team it was enough for her to move, she had faith in him, and together they could score points together. During the break she spent her time with Lawson in Germany testing the car. Which performed more than she expected, not bad for a first time, but the female knows the only results that matter is on the actual track.

"Hello, I am Felipe Santos. Question for Katarina Lombardi–" Your eyes perk up, as you watch a middle aged man in his forties from the back ask his question, "following your move to Porsche there has been a lot of speculation in your move, a lot pointing out the comedic timing of your move, back in 2021 from Mercedes to Red Bull and in the same year the championship went to Red Bull, and now with the issues going on in Red Bull, you moved teams to Porsche. People have been calling you a horseman of doom, are these issues the reason behind your move? Or are they mere coincidences that happen? Are you glad to have moved out from Mercedes and Red Bull?"

Katarina grabs the mic from Lewis, formulating her answer in her head before speaking. This is the type of questions the female's PR manager prepared her for, there are times for snarky remarks or sarcastic comments, and there are times for prepared responses, as what her PR manager instructed.

There is no such thing as a scripted answer, we are prepared when such occasions arise– yadda yadda yadda something about keeping the team's integrity or brand. Shit.

Katarina hums, filling the silence still contemplating on the response to give out, on the far corner of her eye she sees Nicolas, her PR manager staring at her, hands waving on his neck.

Breathing in at an attempt to keep her composure, but the insinuation of Katarina's move as some comedic timing, as if real people weren't involved fumed her in a different way.

She may act indifferently to the press about moving teams, and how her calculated moves benefited her, but they don't see the late night negotiations and hours of talking to lawyers and advisors for the best move.

She didn't like being involved in the drama one bit. "I think calling it comedic timing is inappropriate. Because the situation is not comedic at all, it's not funny, nor do I enjoy seeing my decisions plastered into this controversy. It's disheartening, in this time and age to hear about these allegations. I am glad to have moved but not at the expense of my decisions being held to a higher standard than the actual controversy going around."

Silence.

She could feel her PR manager rolling her eyes, but Katarina couldn't care less. It was one way to shut up the crowd, she was not about to let the media use her move from Red Bull to Porsche as a cover up story.

She's been in the sport for so long, things have to change. She passed the microphone back in Lewis' direction as the media got back to asking questions.

For the remainder of the interview, no one dared to ask her another question.

"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?"

The first words Nicolas, her PR manager spoke as soon as she left the press conference schedule.

"It's the truth! What do you want me to say? Some neutral answer to pacify the press?" Rolling her eyes, Katarina entered the Porsche motorhome greeted by Alessia, her trainer who was waiting for her.

"You know that the team has given you freedom to speak whatever is on your mind, and we admire that. But a heads up could be good, I knew for a fact you weren't about to answer the memorized paragraph we spent hours together—"

"You want me to say it in a nicer way? Is that what you're implying?" Katarina cuts him off, turning around to face the man stressing about the stack of papers in between manila folders.

"The media will do everything to twist your words, tread lightly."

Katarina laughs, head shaking at his statement, "Yeah, and if they dare twist my words I'll just have to speak up more about it then. I worked hard for this, moving to Porsche was a gamble to my career! Not that I'm not enjoying it right now, it's definitely better than I expected, but for my move to be belittled as some comedic timing? No way! I fought my back out of Red Bull, they can't twist my words against me."

Nicolas nods his head slowly, arms rubbing around the female's shoulder trying to calm her down. "I know. I know how hard you worked to get out of Red Bull, and how Porsche is your saving grace for offering you a seat but they don't know that. They don't know you took one of their junior drivers, and that's what they're trying to get out of you. So calm down, and think before you speak- would be my advice as your PR manager. But as a friend, I want you to know that we're a team here, and whatever you plan on doing, we'll be here to support you, but don't go in blindly like that. Tell us, we've been through thick and thin, don't you dare think I'm about to leave you after working with you for the last 10 years."

A small smile curves up in Katarina's lips looking away bashfully at Nicolas, "Fine. As my PR manager I promise not to do things without telling you first. As a friend, thank you. For staying, and coming with me despite Red Bull's efforts to poach you undr my nose."

Leaving Red Bull was a sensitive topic for Katarina— but she'd rather act to the press about an amicable split then open up a whole can of worms. She had to leave and she doesn't like to talk about it.

Her decision to leave was done before the 2023 season even ended, yet none of the grid knew of her transfer. Not even her previous teammate Max, and other than Liam, after the news of Lewis' transfer to Ferrari, Katarina greenlit Porsche' announcement of her and Liam Lawson as their drivers for the upcoming 2024 season. That being said, her winter break was definitely eventful.

Raising her head from her notes, Katarina watches Lewis welcome himself in her motorhome.

"Katarina Anneli Lombardi, we're full of surprises this season huh?" Lewis closes the door behind him, getting comfortable beside you.

"I'd like to say the same with you, Ferrari, good choice— maybe by the time engine regulations come you'll come out on top, or Charles doesn't matter to me, I'll beat either of you."

Scoffing, Lewis closes Katarina's notes pushing her legs in his direction, facing him. "So, how did that happen?"

"I could say the same to you, you know." Katarina shrugs, parroting his own question back to him.

"Yeah we're not doing that. You know what's the deal with Mercedes, I'm glad you didn't sign that contract extension. But you, what happened?"

Looking away from Lewis hands settled on hers, zoning out on the wall behind his silhouette. Left frozen in her own thoughts, gulping as she avoids the question.

"If you're not ready to say anything, you don't have to say anything yet. I just want you to know that I will always support you."

The female blinked her thoughts away, slowly nodding her head digesting what Lewis said. "I'm glad you got out of Mercedes too. I hope this season will be kind to you."

Lewis laughs, dropping the topic behind them. "But during the press conference, what that interview said, comedic timing huh? Didn't even realize that."

Katarina sneers, "I almost got myself stuck in Red Bull if I didn't move then."

Her eyes widened, she spoke too soon without thinking. Fuck.

And Katarina was right, her words didn't fly past the older male beside her, raising his brows. "Katarina..."

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes as Lewis pulled up with his "serious dad" voice. "I promise you it's nothing."

"You say that, and then I find out later it's something serious. Anneli, what happened with Red Bull?"

The female shakes her head, refusing to answer. "I'm sorry Lewis, but now is really not the time to talk about this." Looking left and right the windows of her motorhome, Katarina stands up towards the door, checking if it's locked.

"I promise you I'm fine Lewis. Who else would I tell you if I don't feel good?" Twisting the door open, hiding her actions under the guise of a polite act, "But now it's time for you to leave because I have to rest and study for free practice. Now go back to your garage, they might tamper if you're not looking."

Lewis faces the younger incredulously, shaking his head, before pulling Katarina in a hug.

"I'll see you before free practice?"

Katarina ponders before turning her head side to side, "Nope, I'll see you after free practice."

Lewis hugs her once more before leaving her motorhome, the female standing by the door watching his back leave. Checking the area around the motorhome, Katarina takes note of the neighboring team garages beside them, to the right was the familiar Williams motorhome, and in front of them was the fiery red Ferrari.

Going back inside the comfort of her room, Katarina shakes off her thoughts focusing back on her notes for the upcoming practice. Knowing very well that there are vultures lurking, waiting for a feast before their eyes.

Only time will tell, but today isn't one of those days. Because like how the journalist coined, it'll all come in impeccable timing. She was a horseman of doom like they said, and soon she'll have to prove herself like she did eight years ago.

amgf why'd she leave red bull? i guess we'll find out soon hahahaha i enjoyed writing this so much, i think i'll be writing this following the 2024 season, of course tweaking the scenes a little bit but what an introduction! i can't wait to write more about her, and hopefully we see a more fleshed Katarina and how she came to become like this. enjoy 👍

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total$hit$how: Hail Mary

in which Benji tries to make a friend

cw: referenced torture/interrogation, death mention, adult language

previous /// masterlist /// next

×~×~×

They were summoned to the briefing room instead of the training bay that morning, and Benji stumbled through the door sleepy and uneasy, stuck with a pit in his stomach that had formed the second Vic pushed play on the video. It hadn’t exactly gotten worse since, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

He was happy Sahota was safe and not-currently-being-tortured, he was, but he didn't know how to respond to the whole situation. What did you say to someone who'd just escaped a brutal interrogation session? Literally hours ago? It wasn't the kind of event they made greeting cards for.

After last night, he could kinda get why their trainer was so intense all the time. What kind of sane person went through that and then, as Kaius said, just walked it off? Vic was right. None of them were used to he and Sahota's brutal lifestyle, least of all Benji. Even after Sahota had made it back, he'd still had nightmares about that stupid video. And as much as he felt bad for the guy, he was still every bit as scary as he'd always been. Maybe scarier.

Benji hoped their trainer wouldn't be in the meeting at all, that he'd take the day off, but he knew neither of them were that lucky. And sure enough, when he stepped into the briefing room to take a seat beside Kaius, their trainer was standing at the head of the table, looking over the contents of the Important Folder, face impassive as ever despite the bruises that covered it. 

Shit, how was he standing? It wasn't even like he had to stand; there were plenty of seats. Did he just like standing that much? Or was this some kind of posturing? A ‘yeah I'm tougher than you, so what?’ type of intimidation tactic. If it was, it was working.

Still, it only seemed polite to congratulate him on the whole not-being-captured thing.

Benji cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling on this fine morning?” he asked, trying to keep his tone lighthearted. He had the feeling Sahota wouldn't appreciate something as pitiful as concern.

“Fine,” he replied flatly, and that seemed to be the end of it.

“If I were you, I would've stayed in bed,” Benji tried, and didn't know why. The guy clearly wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Maybe this really was as common an occurrence as Vic had implied. Just another Tuesday morning.

“You're not me,” Sahota replied, his eyes glued to the folder in his hands.

Okay, he'd take the hint and shut up now. If there was one person he didn't want to see pissed off, it was Sahota. Well… Sahota and Vic. As friendly as he normally was, Vic had shown he could be pretty scary when he wanted, and every threat he made was backed up by the cold hard fact that their lives actually were in his hands.

Kaius was silent beside him, and Benji wondered if he'd been similarly shut down by their trainer. Probably not. Kaius had probably read the room a little better and been quiet from the start.

Joy and Jericho were the next to enter, and he heard one of them wince in sympathy.

“Sahota…”

“Shit, dude.”

If Sahota recognized their less-than-nuanced reactions at all, he didn't address it. “Take your seats. Once Harbor arrives, we'll go over the new findings.”

Joy sat beside Benji, and when he saw her start to open her mouth, he tried to nudge her under the table in warning, but she ignored him.

“You're not looking so hot,” she said. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I'm fine,” Sahota replied.

“Like fuck you are,” Joy said. “Isn't there a medic or something on this base? You should—”

“I'm fine,” Sahota spat. “It's not your place to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Cavan. If I hear any more insistent comments, I'll meet you all on the sparring mats after this.”

Jericho’s face turned a shade more worried. “Now?”

“You think I can't?” When no one answered, he snapped the folder shut and tucked it under his arm. “I'll thank you all to remain on track.”

His touchiness about the subject seemed like more than just annoyance. Was he embarrassed?

Benji got that. A feeling like scraping your knee as a kid and wanting to hide your tears from your friends. Only Sahota wasn't crying. Benji wasn't even entirely sure he was capable of such a feat.

The door swung open and Vic strolled inside, Harbor on his heels. They'd been spending a decent chunk of time together. Private tutoring, or whatever. Maybe more than just that, judging by the way Harbor looked at Vic like he was made of gold. Not really his business either way. If Harbor was happy cozying up to the scary spy man, Benji wasn't gonna judge him for it.

“Good morning, everyone. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Benji said. What would happen if he did miss it? Would Sahota get in his face and threaten him again? Drag him out of bed? Would Vic coolly remind him that the alternative was prison?

“We've recently acquired new intel.” Vic crossed the room, taking the folder from Sahota and laying it in the center of the table. “Sahota will brief you, and then we'll be requiring some of your skills in order to refine it. Questions?”

A heavy silence answered him. Not even Joy raised her hand.

“Wonderful. I’ll leave you in his capable hands.” Vic clapped Sahota on the back, in a gesture that might’ve been friendly if it weren’t for the wounds Benji knew were hiding under his shirt. Their trainer stifled a yelp, his expression flickering from stony to pained, then back to stony in the blink of an eye.

“Ah, my apologies,” Vic said, though something in his voice had Benji wondering if he'd done it on purpose. Like some kind of inside joke. A little ‘gotcha’. Vic threw a smile at Sahota on his way out, closing the door behind him. Their trainer didn't acknowledge it.

Sahota moved to the table, opening the folder and fanning out its contents. It was only then that Benji saw the bandages on his right hand, carefully hidden in his jacket sleeve before now, binding three of his fingers together in a stiff white mass. When he glanced down, he saw a flash of white on his other hand, too.

Jeez.

“I’ve narrowed down our target to a single spot,” Sahota said, tapping one of the papers. “Rotorworx’s northwestern location. The Elysium Building.”

Benji swallowed down the unhelpful pang of sympathy that was attempting to shake him like a tambourine. Elysium. He knew of the place, vaguely. He wasn’t a city native, hadn’t even set foot in San Arbos before getting this bizarre excuse of a job offer, but when you’d been staging high-end robberies for over a decade, you tended to notice the shinier buildings when you wound up somewhere new.

Sahota slid a second paper from the pile. “They use a custom security program, but I managed to work out a few of the specs. Aside from that…” He pushed forward a third page. “I also compiled a list of names. Individuals who may be connected to the development of the Reality Cage.” He slid one page over to Jericho. “Davis, Cavan, I want you on security. See Vic about getting computer access.”

Jericho took the page, and Joy leaned over in her chair to peer at it over his shoulder.

Sahota passed the other paper to Kaius. “Manak, sift through the names and see if anyone listed is particularly relevant. Cross-reference with our database to find any knowns. We may be able to bribe an insider.”

Kaius’s expression darkened when Sahota added,

“Take Harbor with you.”

It was almost enough to make Benji chuckle, but not quite.

“Find out what you can,” Sahota finished. “We’ll reconvene at 1600.”

Each pair scurried off, assignments in hand, like elementary schoolers who’d just been tasked with a group project. Which left only Benji, shifting awkwardly in his chair as Sahota took the seat opposite him.

Shhhit, was he in trouble? He pored over any recent maybe-offenses, his stellar anti-confrontational brain at the ready to create an excuse or explanation or outright lie that would put him in the clear.

But… he hadn’t actually done anything, had he? Unless this was about how useless he’d been in the maze yesterday. Would Sahota even know about that?

“Um,” he began.

“Ruebin,” Sahota said at the same time, and Benji quickly shut his mouth.

“I need your skills for another task.” His hand dipped under the table, coming back with a little metal box, roughly the size of a zippo lighter. Its seam was so fine it was nearly invisible, a teeny-tiny lock on one end. A tubular cam in miniature.

“I’m guessing you want me to pop that open?” Benji said, holding out his hand. Sahota made no move to give him the box.

“Inside is a micro-USB with Elysium’s full floorplans on it. The box is titanium. Unable to be opened without the key or application of powertools. Brute force could destroy the intel within. The wrong key will destroy the lock and render it inoperable.”

Benji let out a low whistle. “That’s some real spy shit, huh?”

“I don’t currently have the finesse required to pick the lock,” Sahota continued, ignoring his comment in a way that Benji would normally consider rude, but since this was Sahota, it was pretty par for the course.

“What happened to the key?” he asked, deciding it was better to question that than Sahota’s lack of finesse. He already knew the explanation there.

“I had to destroy it.”

Benji raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t have, like, an extra one laying around here somewhere..?”

“Defeats the purpose of the real spy shit, doesn’t it?” Sahota muttered. “I need you to get it open.” At long last, he placed the box on the table and nudged it towards Benji. He picked it up, smooth metal still warm from Sahota’s palm.

“Hand tools are available for your use. Take all the time you need.” He laid a small leather booklet on the table, lockpicks the size of needles nestled within. “If you screw it up, chances are high that we lose the information inside.” His eyes met Benji’s, looking darker than usual against his bruised skin. “Don’t screw it up.”

Benji swallowed, closing the thing in his fist. “Roger that.”

It was bad enough being tasked with something that was both so critical and so easy to fuck up. It became a million times worse when Sahota made no move to leave, instead settling back in the chair across from him and sifting through the folder. 

Benji cleared his throat. “Um…”

“What?”

Benji shrugged. “I, ah, don’t usually do this for an audience,” he said. Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to tell Sahota that he made him nervous. “My best work has always come out of solo acts, so if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“I do mind.” A paper rustled in his hand as he turned it over. “For the purpose of the mission, the contents of that box are top secret. I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

Benji let out a heavy sigh before he could stop himself, but if Sahota noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He set the box on the table and pulled the lockpicks closer. A half-diamond pick would probably be a good place to start, at least for probing. Benji twirled the tiny thing between two fingers, trying to plant his gaze on the lock itself, and not on the man across from him.

Fuck, Sahota’s presence just made him more anxious about this. Stupid or not, his brain found solace in distance, reasoning that if he did fuck up, at least he had a head start on running away. As it was, he was sitting closer to an arm’s length. Within punching distance. Hair-grabbing distance. Sahota had already done that once, and that had been for the crime of fake-surrendering. What would he do if Benji messed up some actually-critical shit?

He was almost too nervous to hold the pick right. 

Really, this was perfect. What was better than being stuck in a room with someone you were slightly terrified of? Being stuck in a room with someone you were terrified of but also kinda felt bad for, of course. If he hadn’t just watched Sahota get tortured, he might be able to sit quiet and pick the lock in an anxiety-fueled haze. If it were anyone else in his trainer’s position, he could just talk to them and make sure they were okay. But those two concepts just didn’t mix right, and the longer he sat in silence, the more the bizarre cocktail of worry and care and fear shook up inside him.

He had to say something. So far, none of them had really been conversational with their trainer, only interacting with him during the training itself. Maybe that was the root issue. Maybe a little chit-chat would make them both feel better, and kickstart Sahota’s defrost cycle.

“Crazy weather we’ve been having, huh?” Benji said, easing in the lockpick. A darting glance up told him Sahota was choosing to ignore the remark. Benji chose to ignore his ignorance.

“That was a joke,” he said. “Y’know, because I haven’t been outside in a week.”

Again, no response, but he didn’t look particularly pissed off, so Benji continued.

“Is this what your normal routine is like? 90-10, indoor-outdoor—?”

“Are you not capable of doing this quietly?”

Benji paused in his lockpicking endeavors. “Well no, not really. If I do have an audience, it’s polite to engage in conversation.” And for a lot of his sleight-of-hand tricks, it was necessary, a subtle distraction. It wasn’t like he was capable of fooling Sahota in this particular instance, but it sure made him feel more comfortable. If only he could say the same for his trainer.

“If you insist on talking, at least talk about something useful.”

“Like what?”

“Walk me through your steps. Recite fun facts. I don’t fucking know.”

“Or,” Benji said, swapping out picks, “we could get to know each other. Do you have a favorite food? Mine’s pad thai.”

He didn’t know how it was even possible, but Sahota’s glare got even more glare-y. “No.”

“No favorite food?” Were spies just quakers with guns?

“No, I don’t want to get to know you.”

Okay, ouch. “Not even a little bit? I mean I’m 20% of your prize team—”

“You’re a criminal we chose at random for your skillset and proximity,” Sahota said evenly. “You aren’t special.”

Wow. This was going so great. “And I suppose you are?”

“I’ve been doing this job for twelve years.”

Benji huffed. “Well I’ve been stealing and shit for like, ten. Can’t we agree that we’re both special in wholly unique ways?”

Sahota didn’t reply. Benji let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh, and set his attention back on the lockbox. He was almost tempted to try on the silence; the icy friend-rejecting attitude the other man wore so easily. But… in for a penny, in for a pound.

“How’d you get started on the job anyway?” he asked. “I doubt there’s many ‘help wanted’ signs out there for this gig.”

“I was recruited in the field,” Sahota answered after a pause.

“Recruited in the field,” Benji repeated. “Is that like, spy code for ‘recommended by a family member’, or..?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Were you recruited by Vic?”

“Yes.”

“So what, he just saw you in the field and was like, ‘I like the cut of your jib, kid’?”

“Yes.” 

Benji slumped forward on the table, careful not to jostle the lockpicks. “Okay. Cool.” The conversation piece was way harder to traverse than he would’ve thought. Sahota seemed hellishly determined to remain as frigid and distant as possible, but Benji had one final hail mary.

“Is the job like this a lot?”

Sahota didn’t look up. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely at the other man. “That. Y’know, violent. Sending you home with bruises.”

The trainer’s eyes closed, the corner of his mouth tightening. “What did I say about—?”

“I’m not insisting on anything,” Benji said quickly. “Obviously you can handle it and obviously you’re fine, but… I don’t know. You’re our teacher. Part of the team, technically. Aren’t we allowed to worry a little bit?”

When Sahota didn’t answer, Benji sighed, taking up the lock again. He’d tried. So much for his supposed ‘get along with everyone’ superpower. The two of them sat in silence for a good several minutes, nothing but the tiny click of lockpicks at work and the faint, occasional rustle of a paper being turned over or tucked away.

“Chana dal,” Sahota said, and Benji looked up from his work, squinting at him in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You asked for my favorite food. Chana dal.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good one, that’s… the one with the lentils, right?”

“Have you never tried it?” To his surprise, Sahota actually glanced up at him with the question.

“I probably have,” Benji said. “I just don’t fully remember.” He put on as harmless an expression as he could. “Have you ever made it here? Not to shit on Vic’s cooking, but it’s kinda… bland.”

He swore that almost got a smile out of Sahota. Almost. 

“Vic does what’s necessary,” he said. “I’ve made it before. Usually comes out decent, but nowhere near as good as…” He paused, dropping his eyes back to the papers, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “I’ve had better.”

“I probably haven’t,” Benji said, carefully breezing past whatever Sahota was trying to keep down. What had he been about to say? A name? A restaurant? Something he missed, probably, maybe a family member. Benji knew that ache well enough, but Sahota’s own wasn’t his business. Not yet. 

“Maybe you could make it for the team one of these days?” he said, readjusting the lockpick. “For luck.”

“Maybe.”

Click. The tiny metallic sound rang out from the box in his palm, and Benji looked down at it in surprise. 

“Shoot. I… I think I got it.”

Sahota leaned forward. “Really?”

Benji pressed his thumb into the top half of the little box, gently pushing it open. Inside, in a felt-lined compartment that looked like it was molded to be an exact fit, a micro-USB was nestled like a sleeping puppy.

“Quicker than I'd expected.” Sahota opened his palm, and Benji set the USB in it, box and all, freely wearing a proud smile.

Look at him go, using his skills for critical work and shit. “I told you I was special, didn't I?”

Sahota's expression shifted oh-so slightly, reflecting something that Benji could almost read as impressed if he squinted.

“I guess you did.”

~~

The others filed back inside eventually; Joy and Jericho with what he described as an ‘outline of an outline’ of a plan to hack the system, and Kaius with new notes written in the margins of the list he’d been given. Harbor trudged in after him, just as quiet as he’d been the last few days. Benji could’ve sworn the guy had been louder at the start, almost like he was trying to impress the rest of them with a wannabe-punk attitude. Maybe it had just been first-day nerves.

Kaius stepped forward to lay his paper flat on the table. 

“Our findings indicate every name on this list has some level of involvement with the Reality Cage,” he began. “Interns, security, research assistants, and the like. Of this group, one individual sticks out. Rebecca Finley.”

“What's so special about her?” Benji asked.

“From what we can tell, she's the only one who overtly operates outside the law. She's a supplier for rare metals, synthetic gasses, and other materials that may have been used to craft the Reality Cage. Of the listed individuals, she'd likely have the best idea of how to destroy it, and may well be familiar with the comings and goings of the Elysium Building.”

Benji shrugged. “You got me there.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Locate Finley. See if she'll cooperate.”

“If she doesn't?”

Kaius pressed his lips together. “We'll explore other options.”

On the far side of the room, Vic pushed himself up from the wall he was leaning on. “Finley doesn’t seem like the sort who’s willing to take a bribe.”

“She’s a direct line to Rotorworx's under-the-table technologies,” Kaius replied. “If we can’t bribe her, perhaps we can convince her in other ways.”

Vic rubbed his chin. “You could also kill her and steal whatever data she has on her person.”

Benji's mouth was suddenly dry. “Kill her? Like, kill her kill her?”

“I wasn't aware there was more than one variant,” Vic said, raising an eyebrow.

“Is… is that really necessary?”

“That method will get you answers far quicker than talking.”

Benji swallowed. “Okay, so maybe we should go after someone else?”

“Who else would you suggest, Ruebin?” Kaius asked, his eyes a level glare.

“Well, maybe no one. We've got the security info and the floorplans and the building. Isn't that enough?”

“You want to run in blind?”

“I want to not kill people.”

Kaius glanced at Vic briefly. “If that's our best option, it may be necessary. How do you plan on destroying it without insider intelligence? Hit it with a hammer?”

Something along those lines. “That usually works.”

“And just how many world-bending machines have you destroyed, Ruebin?”

“None, obviously, but I seriously don't think we need to—”

“Hey.” Joy held her hands in a time-out motion. “We can try and play it smart. Talk to Finley and figure out if she knows anything without revealing who we are”

Vic clicked his tongue. “And if she doesn't reveal anything herself, don't you think that's a waste of time?”

“I think it's worth a shot,” offered Benji, who really didn't want to have anything to do with the casual murder of someone.

Joy fixed her eyes on Kaius. “So? What's the plan? Do you have her address or something?”

“Or something,” Kaius murmured, tapping a line scrawled in pen on the paper. “A drop site. Supposedly where Finley picks up material requests from hopeful customers.”

And how exactly had Kaius figured that out? Seemed like a weird detail to find. Benji would've assumed a place of residence, or relatives, or even an officially listed job, especially if they'd had access to whatever database Sahota had promised.

“Material requests, hm?” Vic tapped at his chin. “Chances are you'd get more information from those than you'd ever be able to squeeze out of Finley.”

Kaius frowned. “I don't believe it's a literal drop site, just a meeting place.”

“Great,” Benji said through an exhale. “So let’s meet her there and talk.”

“We're on a tight schedule,” Vic said. “A fruitful interrogation is a drawn-out affair.”

“Whoa, I'm not even saying interrogate her," Benji said. "Why not just… y'know, have a conversation? Maybe she'll cooperate.”

“I can promise you, she won't,” Vic said. 

“You don't know that for sure—”

“I do. She makes a living off of dangerous deals with dangerous people.” He slid the sheet of paper away from Kaius, glancing it over. “She won't give anything up.”

“But—”

“Kill her,” Vic cut him off. “Or move on. We don't have time to waste.” He set the paper back on the table and turned his back, leaving behind a roomful of uncomfortable silence.

Benji glanced around, looking for someone to make eye contact with, someone he could pin with a silent, this is crazy, right? Kaius was looking at the paper, Harbor was looking at his hands, and Jericho and Joy seemed to have their eyes fixed on the floor, expressions undecipherable. Finally, his gaze landed on Sahota.

“We're… we aren't actually going to kill her, are we?”

“Pursuing her as a lead isn't necessary,” Sahota replied. “At the end of the day, it's up to you to decide what intel you'll need for the mission. You can disregard the list completely if it suits you.”

Kaius frowned. “You bled for it.”

“I've bled for less. There are other options.”

Joy let out a heavy sigh. “It sounds like we'd get the most from Finley. Why can't we just talk? She doesn't need to know why we want to know anything. We can just make something up. Pretend to be customers or some shit.”

“You heard Vic.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm not killing anyone.”

Jericho was already nodding. “What Vic doesn't know won't kill him, right?”

“You're underestimating what Vic is able to figure out,” Sahota said.

“At the end of the day, it's up to us to decide what we want, right?” Benji ventured. “You just said—”

“That doesn't mean going against orders,” Sahota shot back, moving to the table to collect the papers.

“Just let us talk to her,” Joy said.

“You think she'll listen? She'll see right through you.”

“Fine then.” Joy threw her hands up. “Maybe we will interrogate her.”

“It won't work.”

“Well you won't know that for sure if we don't try—”

“I do know for sure.” Sahota dropped the folder onto the table, looking like he was about to follow Vic out the door. “Like Vic said. You can kill her, or—”

“How do you know?” Joy stood. “You might be smart, and a ruthless operator, and all that shit, but you don't know all there is to know about us.”

Sahota stopped. “You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He turned around, sweeping the room with a cool gaze. Benji wasn't sure he liked where this was going. Sometimes he wished Joy wouldn't push the envelope. They'd probably be fine if they listened to Vic and just left it alone, they didn't need need Finley, did they?

“Show me what you've got,” Sahota said. “If you can prove me wrong, I'll let you try it. If you can't, I'll kill Finley myself.”

Joy frowned. “So, what? You want me to have a conversation with you?”

“No.” He rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for something, and Benji couldn’t help but cringe at the next words that left his mouth.

 “I want you to interrogate me.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday

[sadbigemini]

So, to start off, Happy Pride! And I'm here with more MHA shit. We have ourselves a long one today. I have nothing else to say, let's get into it!

First, Just Some Tidbits You Can Add To Fics

Midnight's persona is so ingrained in her that she forgot and didn't think of how that would affect her students or how they would feel about it

The class is super close and trauma bonded. They find comfort in each other after nightmares, they help each other with panic attacks, with flashbacks, etc. Aizawa lets them break the not staying in each other's dorms rule bc of it

Dadzawa offers his capture weapon to comfort his kids/students like a weighted blanket

Where Aizawa was a vigilante before he got into the hero course

Dadzawa sees the Three Dumbingos in Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki or Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima or a combination of the two lol

Quirk accidents are a common occurrence, especially In stressful or highly emotional situations. Regardless of age, though probably more common in children

Roki has a slight phobia of fire

Midoriya Hisashi as a good dad bc their isn't enough fics with it that way

A Whole Lotta Smallish Fic Prompts

Villain/Vigilante EraserMic(Cloud?) ‘adopting’ a bunch of kiddos that need homes. And creating an army against the HPSC. They'll be like the mob lol

MHA group home AU ran by you guessed it EraserMic or by Nezu and they're just caretakers

Todoroki Shouto gets OFA and is mentored by Good!All Might. It's mostly to piss off his sperm-donor but also because he is a secret AM fanboy

Sentient quirks, whether that's expanding on Tokoyami and Dark Shadow or giving someone else a sentient quirk too

Jirou knows about OFA. She overheard the knowledge of All Might's no might form and OFA, his quirk, with her own quirk. Not purposely ofc

Mido with a pyrokinesis quirk! Which has been done before but not enough! Mido's kinda a pyromaniac... Was he born with it? Did it manifest when he was four? Did it manifest much later and he was thought to be quirkless?

Sero with a cartoon physics quirk. Vigilante. Named Toons? He also listens to some tunes on patrol lol I think he'd love puns ngl. Pranks, an ungodly amount of pranks. So bad endeawhore will be sobbing in the aftermath. SeroRoki besties.

Chisaki Izuku. Mido as Chisaki Kai’s younger brother. Has an Activation and Deactivation quirk (Superpower wiki for more info). Anything he touches that can turn on and off he can turn them on and off, quirks to bodily functions (kinda the same thing I think lol) to technology. He defies Overhaul at every turn bc of Eri. He escapes with Eri and is found by Aizawa. Dadzawa, PapaMic

Shirakumo Oboro is reincarnated into one Toogata Mirio. Shirakumo Oboro died on July 15th (I think he died around this time but the timeline isn't that clear) and on the same day Toogata Mirio was born. Okay, but if I remember correctly Shirakumo was made to give Aizawa a friend like Mirio is to Amajiki. So, like it's literally perfect lol– ah! But the ages, he died 13/14 years ago and Mirio is like 18. Sooo???

Someone give Sero, our resident tape dispenser, OFA, so he can have Danger Spidey Sense. Ig there's Black Whip too, which would help with mobility. A bit like Spider-Man’s Iron Spider Armor/Suit. Sero would be living his little Spider-Man fanboy dream!

Hatsume Mei being Nezu's only personal student. The chaos– the shenanigans, the hijinks they would get into! This could just be pure crack but I think some of you could put a serious spin on this.

MHA/Soul Eater crossover. Think more MHA and heroes than Soul Eater or finding a way to mesh the lore well enough

Aizawa infiltrates the LOV and redeems them

More class B and Shiketsu fics

Shiketsu AU. Quirkless Midoriya accepted? Monoma will be there and his class B is better shtick, now Shiketsu is better shtick. Shinsou there too?? Camie helps them find their class on the first day

Jirou as MC with medical training and a quirk called Body Manipulation (look on Superpower wiki for more info). Vigilante armed with a Monster High metal bat (I think Jirou, Mina, and Toga would love Monster High). Operator is her vigilante name. Fellow vigilante and partner in crime Toga Himiko. Toga has a blood portal quirk. Vigilante name Transfusion. The two act as paramedics for an underground hospital. Future Proteges of Recovery Girl. And it's pride month so maybe you can do a rare pair with those two, Jirou/Toga

Aizawa is practically adopted by the Midoriyas! All the Midoriyas either see him at the park, cat cafe, or they share the same train sometimes. Quirkless Midoriya Izuku or he helps him with OFA. Aizawa teaches Bakugou how to control his anger and that quirkless doesn't mean useless. So, no bullying! Pining EraserMic! Aizawa kinda becomes like the Midoriya adults’ younger brother while he's like an uncle to the youngest

Twice-Centric fic. Twice is Mic's CI (and friend) who infiltrates the LOV for him

Technomancer. Mido has a technopathy and mental continuation quirk (again Superpower wiki). Mido commits sewerslide and gets this quirk (they are mixed into one). He is a tech/electro ghost, he's kinda like an AI. Now he helps different heroes especially his favorites like Eraserhead and Present Mic. But also his favorite vigilante Kaminari?? Tokoyami?? Tokage?? Roki??? His hero and vigilante name is Technomancer. Takes over the HPSC?? Nezu is intrigued by him immediately ofc. Our beloved Power Loader loves him. Absolutely loves him they work on support gear projects together. Hatsume and Power Loader can make him a robot body to possess basically!!!

Oh, How The Tables Have Turned (and how you have turned on each other): This AU(?) is lots of world building fun. A fic about how the quirked were first oppressed heavily by the quirkless and how the roles swapped. How there still is quirk discrimination but now it's more the quirked against each other than another oppressor. How quirks are everything in society now.

A Couple Quirk Ideas

Add Insult To Injury. Insult Empowerment. The quirk allows the user to get stronger when insulted. Talk shit, get hit

True Self Recognition Quirk (again Superpower wiki for both)

One Big One For The Road (Midoriya Tears™ is a quirk)

Midoriya can manipulate them from the volume to the strength to where they go. He needs to drink lots of water and will get dehydrated with quirk overuse

Mido thought he was quirkless because his mom has a secondary passive quirk that's very similar to him. That many other family members have possessed. Hence the Midoriya Tears term. And maybe he is a false negative for quirklessness

BUT HOW DID NOBODY ACCOUNT FOR IT BEING A QUIRK?!! I'LL TELL YOU–!!

–because everyone heard quirkless and that's all they paid attention to. Also the Midoriya Tears are very much a reoccurring trait with various power levels. The person who originally had the quirk was from ages ago– maybe at the dawn of quirks? And it steadily appeared or didn't and was still passed on to the next regardless.

Obviously our Mido’s quirk is the strongest version yet bc MC privilege lmao. And no one knew bc he obviously never trained it. Why would he when he thinks he's quirkless? And it's just a ‘Midoriya thing’. ALSO plot armor lol

Maybe Bakugou guesses but everyone is like, 'your delusional.' and then he's like, ‘Deku is still delusional even if he has a quirk!’?

Or good Bakugou from the start who is driven crazy trying to convince his best friend he has a quirk while scaring his bullies away as he tries to get him to stand up for himself too??

In this fic please give Sero, our beloved tape dispenser, OFA, so he can live his truth and have his little Spider-Man fanboy dream!

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️