#how to build a large email list from scratch

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

part 32

how the hell do I have 32 parts of this thing already

xx

Zoe stretched out in the king sized bed, reaching out for her phone to shut off the alarm.

She had ever intention of going into the office today. However, since she was at Cillian's, it was adding an extra 15-20 minutes on to her commute, as well as having to feed Scout and let him out before she left.

Before she could even consider hitting the snooze button, she heard Scout scratching at the door. She dragged the comforter off and got out of bed, unwillingly. She opened the door and was greeted by Scout, sitting patiently at the door with his tail wagging. The second she took a step forward, he leaped towards the stairs and raced down them, making a mad dash for the kitchen.

"okay, okay," Zoe said, following him through the kitchen and to the back french doors that opened up to the large, fenced-in back yard. She opened the door and Scout ran out, sniffing the grass immediately, looking for the perfect spot to go to the bathroom.

It was still early, and the sun had just come up. It was Zoe's favorite time of the day, when the day was still so new and perfect, the birds were starting to softly chirp, the sun wasn't too hot. The calm before the storm, the serenity before the chaos.

The home came with a deck, perfect for outdoor seating and a fire pit. However, Cillian hasn't purchased one yet. Zoe couldn't wait to have her morning coffee out there, and maybe build a fire and roast marshmallows there on chilly nights with Cillian.

Zoe retreated back into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. She opened up the cabinet she designated for Scout's food, and took out a scooper and filled his bowl for his breakfast and gave him some fresh water. Scout was already at the door, whining to come in. Zoe let him in and he went straight for his food, ready for breakfast.

Okay, going to eat something quick, let Scout out after he eats, then go upstairs and shower quick and change, make it to the office and pray the traffic gods are on my side so I can have a spare 5 minutes to stop for more coffee, Zoe thought, mentally going through her to do list for the morning.

Zoe looked at her laptop sitting on the counter. Checking my emails couldn't hurt, she thought. She took a seat, opened up her laptop and logged in.

the first email was from her sister, which wasn't unusual, but the subject line was what caught her eye.

"WTF is this shit," Zoe read the subject line out loud, as she clicked open.

In the body of the email was a link to a Daily Mail article, and it made her stomach drop.

Party like a Shelby! Cillian Murphy Spends Time With New Lady as Peaky Blinders Cast Grabs Dinner and Drinks

Zoe read it 7 times, as if it was going to change in front of her eyes.

He told me he was working late. He was at dinner? Why couldn't he just say he was at dinner?

Zoe scrolled down, and saw photos of the cast, and in the background was Cillian and a tall blonde woman smiling at him. In other photos, she was laughing with him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

What is she laughing at? he's not THAT funny, Zoe thought.

Zoe continued to scroll:

Cillian Murphy might have been called to begin filming, but that doesn't mean the fun has to end. Murphy, 46, was spotted out at Harry's Bar in London. Joining him at the posh bar was the rest of his Peaky Blinders cast, including new cast member Lizzie Hughes, who joined the cast last minute for season six. Previously modeling for Versace in their latest campaign, she excited to spread her wings and jump into her role - and it seems like Cillian Murphy has no problem showing her the ropes! As previously reported, Cillian was recently dating Zoe Parker, journalist. They have quietly spit earlier this month, and it seems Cillian is back in the dating pool. Scroll below for pictures from the wild night - by order of the Peaky Blinders -

Zoe's heart was in her throat.

"First of all, all the peaky blinders references are annoying," she said out loud, to anyone who will hear her. She looked at Scout, who was by the door again. "It's corny, right?" she asked him.

Scout just stared at her, then back at the door. She rolled her eyes and let him out again.

"Second of all, who the hell is Lizzie Hughes??" She opened up a new tab and searched her name. Millions of pictures came up, with her mile long legs and green eyes staring back at Zoe. She clicked on a picture that brought her to her call card, that had her contact information for bookings.

managed by Hannah Woods, Elite Talent and Public Relations.

That's... odd.. Zoe thought. Maybe it's a small world?

Zoe went back to the article and took a deep breath, she was about to click through the photos.

At first they weren't too bad. All of them out, drinks in hand, having a good time.

But in every picture, Lizzie was there, right next to Cillian. In some pictures, he was leaning in close to her, assuming to hear her. At least, that's what Zoe wanted to believe.

As she clicked through, it seems like they all got drunker and Lizzie got more touchy with Cillian. She had her hand on his bicep, hand on his chest, hand on his back. Cillian... wasn't stopping it.

The pictures got worse.

They were all leaving, and bringing up the rear was Cillian and Lizzie, arm in arm. She was leaning heavy into him, and he was holding onto her tight.

Zoe slammed the laptop shut, tears in her eyes, face bright red.

These pictures are exactly like the ones of her and Cillian. She was so embarrassed, so angry, so hurt. This wasn't like him, AT ALL. She thought she knew him and he was better than this, was this NOT the Cillian that she got to know, the Cillian she opened up to, the one who she sat on the beach with all those days ago.

Am I that forgettable? She thought, letting tears roll down her cheeks.

She was interrupted by Scout barking at a squirrel outside. She glanced at the clock on the stove - she was running late.

Shit, she mumbled, wiping her tears. She got up and went upstairs, planning on throwing on whatever she could to make it to the office at a decent time. She couldn't think about this, not now... But she was planning on texting him when she got to work. And she planned on thinking about what to say the entire time before getting to her office.

xx

Cillian was sound asleep, with about 15 minutes left before his alarm would go off.

Hannah, however, was wide awake.

She had the key to his hotel room, and she quietly let herself in. Cillian was asleep in the bedroom, however his cell phone, wallet and keys were on the coffee table in the living room. Hannah walked over and grabbed his phone, entering the password and opening it up.

She knew the Daily Mail article hit in the US already, and she was certain Zoe would have said something to him by now.

Since the cast had a wild night last night, production for the day was delayed and Cillian didn't have to be on set until later that evening. This allowed him to sleep well into the afternoon, since they all didn't get home until about 4am.

Hannah opened up his phone and smiled, texts from the 2 people she needed texts from; Lizzie and Zoe.

Lizzie: Thanks for being so kind, Cillian! you're sound, looking forward to a good season! x

Hannah rolled her eyes. she left that one unread; he could see that one.

She took a breath and opened the one from Zoe; she was ready to go back and forth with her a little.

Zoe: Hey. I thought you said you were working? looks like you had fun last night. You could have just said you were going out to eat; who's that girl?

Hannah couldn't help but smirk. She began typing:

Cill: hi. didn't know i need to tell u my every waking move. went out to dinner. nbd.

Zoe responded almost immediately.

Zoe: ... you don't need to? I was just asking. I was looking forward to talking to you.

Cill: i know but i cant drop everything to talk to u. im working. i cant pick my schedule like u do. im busy.

Zoe: ... okay? is everything okay?

Cill: this is stressing me out. this schedule isn't working. how bout ill call u whenever im free. don't call me. i cant keep having my phone go off. just lemme call u. i luv u but u gotta let me work. please. Zoe: you're acting weird. can you please pick up your phone? I want to talk. Cill: i can't right now. ill call u later. everything im fine. im sorry. <3 u Zoe: i love you too...

Hannah was interrupted by Cillian's alarm going off. She quickly deleted the text message thread and placed his phone on the coffee table. She opened her work bag and grabbed some papers, making it seem like she was working or going over a schedule.

Cillian emerged a few minutes later, in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He turned and looked at Hannah.

"I wanna die." Cillian said, squinting at Hannah.

"Welp, partying like you guys did last night will do that to ya," Hannah said, smiling, "Coffee?"

"Tea, please." Cillian mumbled, stretching his arms over his head. "What time is it?"

"A little past 2pm" Hannah said, not looking up from her papers.

"Fuck. I have a workout in half an hour, i feel like shit, and then we start at what, 5 tonight?" Cillian groaned, hand going to the back of his neck and rubbing it. Hannah nodded, confirming the start time. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom.

"I'm hopping in the shower, can you please text Zoe for me and tell her i'll call her later?" He yelled over his shoulder, grabbing a fresh towel and closing the bathroom door.

"Hannah laughed, biting her lip to keep the noise down. "Consider it done, Cill!" She yelled back.

"Consider it done!"

tags:

@lau219 @cillianinlove @vervainandspritz @supershadowymiraclestudent @borntodiemp3 @cillianmurphyvevo @shopgirl6us

[lawyersdatascraping]

Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List by LawyersDataLab.com

Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List by LawyersDataLab.com

Are you looking to reach a targeted audience of criminal defense lawyers? Learn how a Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List can benefit your law firm marketing efforts and connect you with lawyers marketing companies. With the increasing competition in the legal industry, it is crucial for law firms to reach their target audience effectively. This is where a Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List can be a valuable tool. By providing a comprehensive database of email addresses specifically tailored to criminal defense lawyers, this list allows law firms to connect with their target audience directly.

The Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List offered by LawyersDataLab.com is a reliable and up-to-date resource that provides law firms with access to a vast network of criminal defense lawyers. This list includes email addresses and other relevant contact information, allowing law firms to reach out to potential clients and establish meaningful connections.

List of Data Fields for Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List

The Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List includes a wide range of data fields that can help law firms tailor their marketing efforts. Some of the key data fields provided in this list are:

- Lawyer Name: The names of criminal defense lawyers, allowing for personalized communication.

- Law Firm: The name and details of the law firm where the lawyer practices, helping law firms identify potential referral partners.

- Email Address: The primary mode of contact, enabling law firms to reach out directly to lawyers via email.

- Phone Number: An additional contact method for law firms to connect with lawyers.

- Location: The geographical location of lawyers, assisting law firms in targeting specific regions or jurisdictions.

- Practice Areas: Information about the specific areas of law in which the lawyers specialize, allowing law firms to customize their messages based on relevant practice areas.

Benefits of Utilizing a Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List

There are several benefits to utilizing a Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List for law firm marketing:

1. Targeted Marketing: By having access to a specialized email list of criminal defense lawyers, law firms can ensure that their marketing messages reach the right audience.

2. Cost-Effective: Email marketing is a cost-effective method compared to traditional marketing strategies. With a Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List, law firms can reach a large number of lawyers at a fraction of the cost of other marketing channels.

3. Time-Saving: Building a comprehensive email list from scratch can be time-consuming. By utilizing a pre-built Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List, law firms can save valuable time and focus their efforts on other important aspects of their marketing campaigns.

4. Increased Brand Awareness: Regularly sending emails to criminal defense lawyers helps law firms establish and reinforce their brand identity. By consistently delivering valuable content and updates, law firms can position themselves as trusted authorities in the legal field.

5. Networking Opportunities: The Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List not only helps law firms connect with potential clients but also opens doors for networking opportunities with other lawyers. Building relationships with fellow legal professionals can lead to valuable referrals and collaborations.

US Lawyers Mailing Lists by State

Email List of Government Lawyers 

Database of Property Law Lawyers

Immigration Lawyers Mailing List

Divorce Lawyers Database

Database of Workers Compensation Attorneys

Environmental Attorneys Mailing List

Bankruptcy Attorney Database

Medical Malpractice Attorneys Email List

Tax Attorney Mailing List

General Practice Attorneys Email Database

Personal Injury Lawyers Database

Conclusion

In conclusion, a Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List is a powerful tool for law firm marketing. It allows law firms to reach a targeted audience of criminal defense lawyers, saving time and resources while maximizing the effectiveness of their marketing efforts. By utilizing the data fields provided in the list, law firms can personalize their messages and establish meaningful connections with potential clients and referral partners. With the numerous benefits it offers, incorporating a Criminal Defense Lawyers Email List into your law firm marketing strategy is a smart investment that can yield significant returns.

Website: Lawyersdatalab.com 

Email: info@lawyersdatalab.com

[techsavvy-agcy]

How do I grow my email list from scratch?

How do I grow my email list from scratch?

Level Up Your List: Getting More Email Subscribers in 2025

Building a strong email list will remain a key component of successful digital marketing in 2025.  It's your direct access to your target audience, allowing you to cultivate leads, market products, and establish a devoted following.  But, in an increasingly noisy digital market, how do you cut through the clutter and attract more people to click the subscribe button? Here are 11 concrete tactics for growing your email list in 2025, with examples from the Indian industry to illustrate each.

1. Craft a Compelling, Irresistible Offer:

Generic "Subscribe to our newsletter" calls to action are ineffective. You must provide true value in exchange for an email address. Consider exclusive content, discounts, early access, free resources, or helpful recommendations.

Example: Imagine a popular online learning platform like Unacademy offering a free "Career Guidance E-book" specifically for students preparing for competitive exams, accessible only upon email subscription. Or, a fashion e-commerce brand like Myntra could offer a special "₹300 off on your first order" for new email subscribers. This tangible benefit incentivizes sign-ups.

2. Make It Incredibly Easy to Subscribe:

Friction is the enemy of conversion. Make sure your signup forms are visible, easy to discover, and demand minimal information. Begin by filling out the relevant areas, such as your name and email address.

Example: Consider the straightforward signup process on Zomato or Swiggy's website. They often feature a clear call to action on their homepage and within their apps, asking for just an email or phone number to get started with updates and offers. A lengthy form asking for too much information upfront would likely deter users.

3. Use AI-Powered Personalization:

Personalized experiences are in; generic blasts are out. Deliver individualized content and offers using AI to comprehend user behaviour, preferences, and previous interactions.  This can also apply to your registration procedure.

Example: An online grocery platform like BigBasket or Gofers could use AI to suggest relevant signup offers based on a user's browsing history. For instance, someone frequently looking at organic products might see a sign-up offer for a discount on organic groceries. Similarly, AI could personalize the welcome email with product recommendations based on initial browsing activity.

4. Optimize Your Signup Forms for Mobile Users:

Your signup forms need to be perfectly mobile-friendly because a large percentage of Indian internet users access the web through mobile devices.  Make sure they feature call-to-action buttons that are easy to see, load quickly, and are simple to complete on smaller screens.

Example: Consider the mobile experience of popular Indian news apps like Times of India or NDTV. Their subscription options are usually presented in a clean, vertical layout that's easy to navigate and fill out on a smartphone. Avoid cluttered designs or tiny input fields that can frustrate mobile users.

5. Leverage QR Codes in Strategic Locations:

QR codes provide a seamless transition from offline interactions to online subscriptions. They can be applied to physical marketing materials, in-store displays, event booths, and even product packaging.

Example: A local coffee shop chain like Cafe Coffee Day (CCD) could place QR codes on their takeaway cups or table tents, leading customers to a signup page for exclusive offers and loyalty program updates. Similarly, a clothing brand like Fabindia could include QR codes on its garment tags, directing customers to subscribe for style tips and new collection announcements.

6. Engage New Subscribers Immediately with a Thank-You Page:

When someone subscribes, there is a possibility for high engagement.  Don't just give a generic "thank you." Use this page to fulfil the promised deal, provide valuable introductory material, and invite additional involvement, such as following you on social media or browsing your website.

Example: When someone subscribes to the newsletter of a shoe company like Adidas, it also delivers a welcome discount code and encourages subscribers to act fast by adding the date when the offer becomes invalid. That’s the sense of urgency in action:

7. Allow Subscribers to Choose Their Preferences:

Giving members control over the content they receive can greatly increase engagement and lower unsubscribe rates. Implement preference centers where users may choose which topics they are interested in.

Example: A media house like India Today could allow subscribers to choose which news categories they want to receive updates on – politics, business, sports, entertainment, etc. This ensures that users only receive content relevant to their interests, increasing the likelihood of them staying subscribed.

8. Grow Your List Through Social Media & Communities:

Your existing social media followers and members of relevant online communities are ideal prospects for your email list. Promote useful offers and signup links on your social media sites, and actively participate in communities where your target audience hangs out.

Example: A beauty and skincare brand like Nykaa actively promotes its newsletter and exclusive offers on its Instagram and Facebook pages with compelling visuals and clear calls to action. They might also engage in beauty-focused online communities, subtly mentioning their newsletter as a source for expert tips and exclusive deals.

9. Improve Your Subject Lines with AI & Data Insights:

Your email's subject line serves as its gatekeeper.  Use AI algorithms and historical email performance data to create appealing and clickable subject lines that grab interest and promote opens.

Example: Instead of a generic "Our Latest Collection," an AI-powered tool might suggest a subject line like "🔥 New Arrivals You Won't Want to Miss! (Inspired by Mumbai Fashion Week)." Analyzing open rates of past emails with emojis and time-sensitive language can inform future subject line strategies for brands targeting the Indian audience.

10. Use Gamification to Encourage Signups:

Add fun and incentive aspects to your signup process.  This could include contests, quizzes, or interactive components that encourage users to offer their email addresses in exchange for a chance to win something or access special material.

Example: An online gaming platform like Mobile Premier League (MPL) could run a limited-time contest where new email subscribers get a free entry into a high-stakes game. Similarly, a food delivery app could offer a "spin the wheel" on their signup page, where users can win discounts or free items in exchange for their email.

11. Turn Your Email Preview into a Click Magnet:

Many email clients provide a brief preview of the email content. Optimize the preview language to add curiosity and entice people to open the email.  This is an extension of creating compelling topic lines.

Example: If your subject line is "Exclusive Diwali Offers Inside!", your preview text could read something like "Unwrap the festive discounts on your favorite sweets, lights, and gifts – limited time only!" This creates a sense of urgency and highlights the value proposition from the inbox preview.

Implementing these tactics, which are suited to the nuances of the Indian market, can dramatically increase your email subscriber growth in 2025 and create a valuable asset for your organization.  Remember to test frequently, analyze your results, and tailor your approach to what resonates most with your target audience.  Good luck! 

[idiosys1]

Podcast App Development: Key Features, Challenges, and Proven Solutions

The podcast industry is booming. More people than ever are turning to audio content for news, entertainment, and learning. Whether on the go or at home, podcasts are now part of our daily lives.

This shift in content consumption has created a big opportunity for businesses and creators. A custom podcast app lets you connect directly with your audience. It gives you control over the user experience and brand identity.

But building a podcast app is not as easy as it sounds. Today’s listeners expect more than just play and pause. They want smooth design, smart suggestions, offline listening, and fast streaming.

That’s where podcast app development comes in. In this blog, we’ll explore the key features, major challenges, and practical solutions you need to know. Whether you’re starting from scratch or improving an existing app, this guide is for you.

Must-Have Features in Podcast App Development

•  Easy Onboarding and User Profiles

First impressions matter. Your app should allow quick signup through email or social media. Once logged in, users should have a personal profile. This profile stores their history, liked episodes, and saved shows.

This setup makes the app feel more personal. It also helps you offer tailored recommendations later on.

•  Smart Search and Recommendations

A podcast library can hold thousands of episodes. Users need help finding what they want. A strong search function is a must. It should let users search by title, genre, host, or keywords.

Add trending sections, curated lists, and recommendations based on past listens. These make your app more engaging.

A smart recommendation engine is what turns first-time users into loyal listeners. It’s a core part of quality podcast application development.

•  Offline Listening

Many users prefer to download episodes and listen later. Whether they’re flying, commuting, or saving data, offline access is a big deal.

Allow users to choose download quality and manage storage. Give them control, and they’ll keep coming back.

•  Playlist and Queue Management

Users love custom playlists. Let them create their own lists and queue up multiple episodes. Also include features like playback speed control, sleep timer, and resume-from-last-position.

These small features improve the listening experience in a big way.

•  Mini Player and Background Streaming

Your app should allow users to listen in the background. A floating mini player helps them control playback while browsing other parts of the app—or even other apps.

This keeps users listening longer, which improves engagement and retention.

•  Push Notifications and Alerts

Push notifications help users stay updated. Let them know when new episodes drop, a favorite show returns, or exclusive content becomes available.

But keep it smart—let users control how often they get notified. It shows that you respect their time.

•  Ratings, Comments, and Sharing

Allow users to rate shows and leave reviews. Let them share episodes on social media or messaging apps. This builds community and helps content spread organically.

These features are often overlooked in podcast app development services, but they add serious value.

Real Challenges in Podcast Application Development

•  Scaling with a Large Content Library

As your platform grows, so does your content. Without proper planning, managing a large library becomes slow and expensive.

Use cloud-based storage and scalable servers. Also, automate metadata tagging to keep things organized.

This is something every experienced podcast app development company understands well.

•  Monetization Confusion

Many creators struggle to choose a revenue model. Should the app be free? Should it run ads? Should you offer premium content?

Think about your audience and your content. Then choose a model—SVOD, AVOD, freemium, or donations—and build your app around it.

Platforms like Stripe and Razorpay make it easy to handle payments. Google Ad Manager or Patreon can support ad-based or fan-supported models.

•  RSS Feed and Syndication Integration

If you plan to pull in shows via RSS feeds, you’ll need to handle different formats. Not all feeds follow the same structure, and bad formatting can cause bugs.

A smart backend system and regular updates can solve this problem. Your app should fetch and display episodes smoothly.

•  Delivering Personalized Content

Modern users expect apps to “understand” them. That means smart recommendations, curated feeds, and personalized notifications.

This requires machine learning and real-time tracking. Tools like TensorFlow and Amazon Personalize can help build this.

But integration takes time and expertise—another reason to work with a skilled podcast app development company.

•  Multi-Device Compatibility

Your app needs to work on Android, iOS, web, and sometimes smart TVs or speakers. A cross-platform approach ensures a smooth experience on every device.

Using Flutter or React Native can help build a consistent look and feel without doubling development time.

This is something companies like Idiosys Tech, a top mobile app development company in Kolkata, handle with care.

•  Legal Compliance and Security

You’ll be dealing with copyrighted content and user data. Your app must follow laws like GDPR or CCPA. You should also encrypt audio streams and use secure login systems.

DRM, SSL, and two-factor authentication are key elements to include.

Solutions That Work for Podcast Application Development

•  Build on a Strong Tech Stack

Start with a tech stack that can scale. For frontend, use React Native or Flutter. For backend, Node.js and Python are reliable. For storage, go with AWS or Google Cloud.

Use a global CDN to reduce latency and offer smooth streaming across regions.

This stack keeps your app fast, secure, and ready for growth.

•  Add Analytics and Listener Insights

Track what users like, what they skip, and how often they return. Use Firebase, Mixpanel, or Amplitude to collect data.

Use this information to improve your app—both in content and design.

Any expert offering podcast app development services will emphasize the importance of analytics.

•  Integrate Monetization Early

Add your monetization tools early in development. This saves time later and avoids awkward workarounds.

If you plan to offer subscriptions, think about free trials, monthly vs yearly pricing, and renewal logic. If you plan to run ads, think about targeting, frequency, and relevance.

•  Offer Localization and Language Support

If your audience is global or regional, offer multi-language support. It’s not just about translation—it’s about making users feel at home.

Language filters and regional content feeds are a great way to serve diverse audiences.

Why Choose Idiosys Tech for Podcast Application Development?

We are a leading mobile app development company in Kolkata. We’ve helped creators, startups, and media companies launch powerful podcast apps from scratch.

We specialize in podcast application development, combining smart tech with a user-first approach. Our services cover everything—UI/UX, cloud setup, backend development, analytics, and post-launch support.

We don’t just write code. We build platforms that work for users and scale for businesses.

Conclusion: Build a Podcast App That People Love

Podcasting is growing—and so is the competition. If you want to stand out, your app must be fast, friendly, and feature-rich. The right features, strong infrastructure, and clean design will help you win and retain listeners.

Plan for growth. Solve real user problems. And work with a team that understands the space.

Whether you're a podcaster, a content brand, or an audio startup—Idiosys Tech is here to help. As a trusted podcast app development company, we build apps that sound good and work even better.

Let’s bring your podcast app to life—with quality, speed, and heart.

——————————————————————————————————

 What platforms should I support—iOS, Android, or both?

Supporting both platforms is ideal for maximum reach. Using cross-platform tools like Flutter or React Native can reduce costs.

What are the key features of a successful podcast app?

Essential features include smart search, offline downloads, custom playlists, background playback, user profiles, and personalized recommendations.

Is it necessary to include a recommendation engine?

While not mandatory, AI-based recommendations improve user engagement and help listeners discover more relevant content.

Should I build a custom app or use a white-label solution?

A custom app offers more flexibility and brand control. White-label apps are quicker but often limited in features and customization.

————————————————————————

You May Also Read

Behind the Mic: The Journey of Creating an Audiobook App

How to Develop Podcast App? Type & Features You Need to Keep for Success

[nirmaldas8]

Business Course Vault [PLR] – How to Make and Sell Courses in a Healthy Way

Click now!

Introduction

There has been a huge demand for online learning, and PLR content is such a great way of creating your own Business Course Vault without doing everything yourself. This tutorial will take you through finding, editing, branding, and selling business courses from PLR content.

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1. Getting to Know PLR Courses

What is PLR Content?

PLR (Private Label Rights) content allows you to edit, rebrand, and resell digital products yourself. These can be:

✔ Business courses

✔ eBooks

✔ Video training

✔ Workbooks & templates

Why Use PLR for Business Courses?

Saves Time & Effort – No need to create content from scratch

Affordable – Buy once, resell hundreds of times

Flexible – Change, rebrand, or bundle with other offers

Where to Find Quality PLR Business Courses?

These are some of the best places:

PLR.me (Visit PLR.me) – High-quality business & coaching PLR content

IDPLR (Visit IDPLR) – More than 12,000+ PLR products

ContentSparks (Visit ContentSparks) – High-quality business courses

BuyQualityPLR (Visit BuyQualityPLR) – Done-for-you business courses

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2. Choosing the Right Business Course Topics

Before buying or building your Business Course Vault, consider in-demand topics:

Hot Business Course Topics

✔ Entrepreneurship – How to Start & Scale a Business

✔ Digital Marketing – SEO, Social Media, Email Marketing

✔ Finance & Investing – Business Budgeting, Crypto, Stocks

✔ Productivity & Mindset – Time Management, Leadership

✔ Sales & Funnels – Converting Leads, Sales Psychology

Course Structuring Tips

1. Beginner-Friendly Approach – Begin with simple concepts before complex strategies

2. Short, Actionable Lessons – Microlearning optimizes retention

3. Multimedia Integration – Incorporate videos, slides, and worksheets

Scalable – Sell to unlimited students or customers

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3. Branding & Personalizing Your PLR Business Courses

How to Make Your PLR Content Stand Out

✔ Rewrite & Add Personal Insights – Change examples and include stories

✔ Make Visuals Better – Professional pictures and branded templates

✔ Add Interactive Elements – Quizzes, exercises, and discussion questions

Branding Your Courses for Maximum Impact

Logo & Branding Colors – Consistency is the key

Branded Slide Decks – Make PowerPoint presentations personalized

Custom Intro/Outro Video – Make it personalized with your voice & style

Recommended Tools to Personalize

✔ Canva – Create beautiful PDFs & graphics

✔ Camtasia – Edit video content for branding course

✔ ChatGPT – Rewrite & optimize PLR articles

✔ Audacity – Voiceover record voiceovers for classes

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4. Host Your Business Course Vault

Best Sites to Host Your Courses

1. Teachable (Go to Teachable) – Easy to use & perfect for memberships

2. Thinkific (Go to Thinkific) – Drag-and-drop course building

3. Kajabi (Go to Kajabi) – Upscale all-in-one business site

4. Udemy (Go to Udemy) – Access a large base

5. Podia (Go to Podia) – Perfect for selling digital downloads

Structuring Your Course Vault

✔ Organize Courses by Category – (e.g., Marketing, Sales, Productivity)

✔ Establish Lucid Learning Paths – Beginner > Intermediate > Advanced

✔ Offer Certifications – Conveys value & credibility

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5. Monetization Strategies – Sell & Profit from Your Courses

Pricing Strategies

✔ One-Time Payment – Fixed cost per course

✔ Subscription Model – Offer access for a monthly/yearly cost

✔ Bundled Offers – Bundle several courses together for a lower cost

✔ Lead Magnet + Upsell – Offer a free mini-course and sell premium content as an upsell

Marketing Strategies to Sell Your Courses

1. SEO Optimization – Use keywords in course name & descriptions

2. Email Marketing – Build an email list and nurture leads

3. Social Media Ads – Sell courses on Facebook & Instagram

4. YouTube Previews – Sell free content and lead to paid courses

5. Affiliate Partnerships – Let influencers promote your courses for a fee

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6. Scaling Your Business Course Vault

How to Scale Your Course Business

✔ Launch More Courses – Expand into new business topics

✔ Plan Membership Levels – Offer special privileges for VIP members

✔ Team up with Influencers – Ride other people's audiences

✔ Automate Sales Funnels – Utilize software such as ClickFunnels or Systeme.io

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Conclusion: Your Business Course Vault is Ready to Launch!

Developing and selling business courses with PLR material is a fantastic means of building an online education brand. With excellent PLR choice, customization & branding of your courses, and sound marketing, you can develop a successful online business that earns passive income.

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✔ Obtain Quality PLR Courses – PLR.me | IDPLR

✔ Host Your Courses – Teachable | Thinkific

✔ Market & Scale – ConvertKit | ClickFunnels

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[homeownersmarketingservices]

How to Buy a Marketing List and Use Direct Marketing Mail for Maximum Impact

In today’s competitive business world, targeted marketing is essential for success. One of the most effective ways to reach potential customers is through direct marketing mail, and the first step to making this strategy work is to buy a marketing list that fits your target audience. Whether you're a small business owner, a real estate agent, or an e-commerce seller, purchasing a high-quality marketing list can help you connect with the right people and boost your sales.

In this blog, we’ll explore the benefits of buying a marketing list, how to select the right one, and best practices for using direct marketing mail to achieve the best results.

Why Buy a Marketing List?

A marketing list is a database of contact information, including names, addresses, phone numbers, and email addresses of potential customers. Instead of spending time and effort collecting leads manually, businesses can buy a marketing list to instantly access a targeted audience.

Key Benefits of Buying a Marketing List

Saves Time and Resources

Building a high-quality contact list from scratch takes months or even years. When you buy a marketing list, you get immediate access to a database of potential customers.

Increases Targeting Accuracy

A purchased list allows businesses to target specific demographics based on location, income, interests, and buying behavior.

Boosts Response Rates

With the right audience, direct marketing mail campaigns can lead to higher engagement, conversions, and customer retention.

Cost-Effective Marketing

Buying a list and running a direct marketing mail campaign is often more affordable than digital advertising, especially for local businesses.

Ideal for Small Businesses and Startups

New businesses that don’t yet have a large customer database can use a purchased marketing list to jumpstart their outreach efforts.

Better ROI

Since the list is already segmented and targeted, businesses get better returns on their marketing investment.

How to Choose the Best Marketing List

Not all marketing lists are created equal. If you want to get the best results, follow these steps when selecting a marketing list to buy:

1. Define Your Target Audience

Before you buy a marketing list, identify the type of customers you want to reach. Consider factors such as:

Location (city, state, or zip code)

Age and gender

Income level

Buying habits and interests

Business industry (for B2B marketing)

2. Choose a Reputable List Provider

When purchasing a marketing list, always buy from a trusted provider that offers:

Up-to-date and accurate data

Compliance with privacy laws (GDPR, CAN-SPAM, CCPA)

High deliverability rates

Some well-known marketing list providers include:

InfoGroup – Offers consumer and business mailing lists

Dun & Bradstreet – Specializes in B2B marketing lists

LeadsPlease – Provides customized lists based on various criteria

USAData – Great for direct mail and email marketing campaigns

3. Verify the Data Quality

A high-quality marketing list should have:

Verified addresses to prevent undelivered mail

Updated contact information

Permission-based email lists (to comply with anti-spam laws)

4. Choose the Right Type of List

There are different types of marketing lists you can buy, depending on your business goals:

Consumer Mailing Lists

Used for B2C marketing

Includes contact details of individual customers

Business Mailing Lists

Used for B2B marketing

Includes contact information for companies, decision-makers, and executives

Specialty Lists

Focused on niche markets (e.g., pet owners, real estate investors, high-net-worth individuals)

How to Use Direct Marketing Mail Effectively

Once you buy a marketing list, the next step is to create a powerful direct marketing mail campaign that captures attention and drives action.

1. Create a Compelling Message

The success of your direct marketing mail campaign depends on how well your message resonates with your audience. Keep these tips in mind:

Use a personalized approach by including the recipient’s name

Highlight a strong offer (discounts, free trials, or exclusive deals)

Include a clear call to action (e.g., "Call now," "Visit our website," "Claim your discount today")

2. Choose the Right Direct Mail Format

Depending on your goals, you can send different types of direct marketing mail, such as:

Postcards – Affordable and easy to read

Brochures – Great for showcasing multiple products/services

Letters – More personal and detailed

Catalogs – Ideal for businesses with multiple products

3. Use Eye-Catching Design and Branding

A professionally designed direct marketing mail piece increases engagement

Use bold headlines, high-quality images, and clear fonts

Maintain brand consistency with your logo and color scheme

4. Track and Measure Performance

To determine the effectiveness of your direct marketing mail campaign, monitor:

Response rates (calls, website visits, coupon redemptions)

Conversion rates (how many recipients take action)

Return on investment (ROI)

You can track performance by using unique promo codes, QR codes, or dedicated landing pages.

Best Practices for Maximizing Direct Mail Success

If you want to get the most out of your direct marketing mail campaigns, follow these expert tips:

1. Test Small Before Scaling

Start with a small portion of your marketing list to test different messages and offers before sending to the entire list.

2. Follow Up with Recipients

Reinforce your message with follow-up emails, phone calls, or additional mailings.

3. Maintain a Clean and Updated Mailing List

If you plan to send repeated campaigns, regularly update your marketing list to remove outdated or inactive contacts.

4. Consider Personalization and Segmentation

Sending a one-size-fits-all message won’t be as effective. Segment your list and personalize your message based on recipient preferences.

5. Stay Compliant with Laws and Regulations

Always ensure your direct marketing mail campaigns follow legal guidelines to avoid fines and penalties.

Final Thoughts: Is Buying a Marketing List Worth It?

If done correctly, buying a marketing list can be a game-changer for your business. A high-quality marketing list allows you to reach potential customers quickly, while direct marketing mail ensures that your message gets seen without the noise of digital advertising.

By choosing the right marketing list provider, crafting an engaging mail campaign, and tracking your results, your business can see higher engagement rates, improved brand recognition, and increased sales. If you’re ready to take your marketing efforts to the next level, start by finding a reputable provider and launching a powerful direct marketing mail campaign today!

[businessadvisorrobert]

OfferUp Clone: Launch Your Classified Business in the USA

The advertising industry has always been a rapidly growing industry in the global economy, and the demand for the buy/sell marketplace is significant in today’s digital world. 

While entering this domain is relatively easy, maintaining long-term success can be challenging due to intense competition. To deal with it, developing the right classified script is a key strategy in the C2C marketplace.

OfferUp clone is one such classified script that allows you to launch your classified business in the USA quickly. Continue reading, as this blog covers all the essential details for building a secure classified marketplace in the US with the OfferUp clone script. 

Let's dive into the facts.

Overview Of OfferUp Clone 

An OfferUp clone is an online classified marketplace that connects buyers and sellers for trading used or second-hand items at affordable prices. Unlike other platforms, an OfferUp clone app allows buyers to post reviews after transactions, enhancing trust and transparency. It also restricts the listing of dangerous or harmful items such as drugs and alcohol.

Using the OfferUp script enables you to launch your classified ads marketplace quickly and cost-effectively compared to developing a platform from scratch. Therefore, the OfferUp clone script is an ideal solution to kickstart your classified business.

How Does the OfferUp Clone App Work?

The OfferUp Clone app facilitates the buying and selling of pre-owned and second-hand items. This classified marketplace is optimized for mobile devices, showcasing numerous product photos via an endless scroll interface.

For Buyers:

Products are displayed based on the buyer’s geo-location to facilitate face-to-face interactions and community-driven relationships.

Buyers can also filter items by category, price, and distance to find exactly what they need.

For Sellers:

Sellers can list items instantly by uploading a photo from their smartphone or computer.

The platform simplifies managing incoming inquiries by sorting them by the highest offer, making it easy to contact potential buyers to agree on a price and meeting place.

This streamlined process makes the OfferUp Clone app an efficient and user-friendly platform for trading second-hand goods.

Salient Features of the OfferUp Clone App

The success of any app largely depends on its features and functionalities. Here are the standard and unique features considered while developing the OfferUp clone script in the USA:

Simple Login

The app offers multiple login options, including email, mobile number, and social media, allowing buyers and sellers to easily access the app.

Advanced Product Filter

The OfferUp-like app provides users with multiple filter options like categories, conditions, and regions, making it easy to find the desired items.

Regional-Based Search

By entering location information, buyers can find products available nearby, facilitating faster delivery.

In-App Chat

An in-app chat feature in the OfferUp clone app allows buyers and sellers to communicate directly, clarifying prices, bargaining, and product queries easily.

Review-Based Selection

The OfferUp-like app includes a review feature where buyers can post reviews about products. New buyers can easily filter products based on positive reviews.

Favorite Listing

Buyers can create a favorite list, acting as a shopping cart where they can add products to view or buy later.

Summing Up

By leveraging the power of an OfferUp script and tailoring it to the US market, you can unlock significant opportunities in the US classified market. 

With dedication, innovation, and a focus on user experience, you can transform your classifieds platform into a thriving online marketplace that empowers both buyers and sellers to connect and redefine the way people shop in the USA.

[clickebiz]

How To Build An Email List FAST & PROFITABLE! (Step By Step)

How To Build An Email List FAST & PROFITABLE! (Step By Step)

DISCLOSURE: We have partnered with the companies above and get a commission. This means at no additional cost to you, I may earn a commission if you … source

[palbabor-writes]

Practicum

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, student/teacher sex, tw.dubcon, tw.sub/dom dynamics, brat taming, fingering, masturbation, a table is pretty roughed up in this, so pls hold a brief moment of silence for it    

Words: 12,857

“So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And...answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Notes: the title was selected because it’s got the word cum in it. ahhh, the things that crack me up. anyhow. 

this is part of the BNHA Degeneracy server’s 9 to 5 collaboration! i had a ton of fun participating in this and thank you guys for making this so freaking awesome! special shoutout & thanks to @albinoburrito​ & @kugutsuu​ for their beta edits! this was a departure from what i usually write about and i appreciate all of your notes and help!  

Practicum prac·ti·cum /ˈpraktəkəm/ noun a practical section of a course of study

It’s your senior year, they said. Live a little, they advised. Stop and take a breather, you’re practically home free! Take some easier classes. Focus on what’s in front of you, it’ll be over before you know it! On and on and on. 

Spring semester is almost here. You’ve applied for graduation, the cap and gown ordered, and you have a shiny class ring sitting on your pinky. It’s in the bag. Just breeze through four more classes and you’re out. Well, it would be an easy shot, if you hadn’t put off this one class. 

It always popped up, so it’s not like you could plead ignorance. Your advisor warned you, each quarterly meeting, that you needed to get it out of the way. Take it seriously, he cautioned, clacking out his notes, typing down that you’d failed to heed his sage advice, again. If you wait too long, you’re not going to get the professor that you want.

That was the other problem. You’re a procrastination superstar. If there was some kinda award for putting off assignments, you’d have won it ten times over. You liked the heart pounding race to the deadline, the sleepy boasts that you’d tackled the project within hours of its due date. 

It’s a stupid habit. Every semester you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You won’t wait, you’ll tackle things one assignment at a time and turn them before the hard cut off at 11:59 pm. Who the fuck did you think you were kidding? Certainly not your friends, or your advisor. He could read you like a book. Hell, he’d even sent warnings. 

‘Don’t forget about the deadline for senior registration!’

‘You don’t want to be on a waitlist. You especially don’t want to take one of the harder professors. These are freshman level classes, they’re designed to flunk undergrads. Don’t forget (Y/N), chew them up and spit them out tactics are employed.’ 

But you had. You’d set an alarm on your phone, then neglected to give it a title, so you’d only chuckled and smacked the chirping into silence that morning, snoozing the all important deadline away. 

Fuck. 

Most of the classes for biology are wait-listed. No, scratch that, all the classes for Intro to Genetic Biology are wait-listed. You opt into the waitlist for all of them, just in case, and a week later your phone alerts you that one has an open seat. Actually, it has several open seats, too many open seats to be natural. However, you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so for now, you’re enrolled in BIO 1208: Principles of Cell and Organismal Physiology - For Non-Science majors. 

Perfect.

Yeah, no. You’d looked up the professor, since the whole open seat thing was still giving you the heebie-jeebies, and your heart dropped. You’ve heard of him, most of the student body has. His classes are notoriously small. Not because the university limited them, or planned for smaller class sizes. No, his classes are tiny because he is infamous for failing students. 

Most, when they realize they’re scheduled for his bio classes, frantically drop, taking the withdrawal and praying for better luck next semester. Others, brave souls who think they can come out unscathed, attempt to grit their teeth and push through. But, by midterms, they’re war torn and haggard, shaking their heads and praying for a ‘C’, at best. Fewer still, pass.

This pedagogy isn’t a sign of good teaching; quite the opposite, in fact. You don’t want your student body failing. Yet, year after year, Professor Tomura Shigaraki keeps teaching the same Intro to Bio class. It boggles the mind, but you’ve never had to worry about it. Well, until now. 

When you’d received the notification that you’re enrolled in the B section and spied the name Shigaraki under the professor listing, you’d scarfed down your suddenly flavorless lunch and dashed up the steps to the student advising hall, praying there was some way you could wiggle your way out of this growing disaster.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to take it earlier and to take it in the fall when there are more freshman level classes available. I swear I said that to you. And, AND, I even sent you emails, several times if my sent inbox is to be believed, to NOT forget when senior registration ends.” 

Your advisor is peeved. You don’t blame him. He’s right, this is your fault, but there’s gotta be some kinda loophole. Something, fuck, anything, that can pull you from this mess. 

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry. You’re right. But, I mean, can’t I just hold off for another week? See if the waitlist clears?”

The man that you’ve known for four years, that’s seen you progress from freshman to senior, steeples his long fingers and purses his lips, likely debating on a tactful scolding, or a firm rebuttal. He takes a deep breath and you can’t help but sink into the soft cushioning of the chair, your nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

“Do you know how many students we require to take BIO 1208?”

“No,” you gulp, nibbling on your lower lip nervously. 

“Over 7,000. Do you want to hear the statistics that would need to shake out in your favor for you to miraculously avoid taking this specific class? Nothing is going to open for you, it is this class, or no class.”

You sigh, and your advisor nods, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Well then, I suggest you brush up on your study skills. Find a classmate that you can compare notes with, join a study group, go to the student union and ask for a tutor. I would hate to see you back here for the summer semester. You’re scheduled to walk the stage this spring and you’ve worked hard for this, so don’t fuck it up, okay?”

You’ve attended this university for four years, but the first day of term always gives you the jitters. It doesn’t matter that you know your way around, or that you know ten professors by name, and bump into several friends on the way to your next building, you’re always buried in your phone, checking and double checking the next class’ room number. 

Despite all that caution, you’re lost.

In your defense, it’s your first time stepping foot in the Graduate & Research building and the whole concrete block is a fucking maze. There must be a basement because the numbers don’t match up with the floors and they seem to jumble further every time you round a corner. Like what the hell? How can this next room be GR 3.03.05 when this is clearly only the second floor and GR 2.03.11 was right down that other hallway?

Exasperated, you lean against the nearest wall and tug your phone out again. Shit. Class started ten minutes ago. 

Part of you wants to call it a day, end the search here and try again on Wednesday. Maybe take a few extra minutes to scout out the building next time and have some idea of where you’re going before the start of class. 

Ugh, why is this so stressful? 

It’s the first day of classes. Surely Professor Shigaraki won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late; besides, if you’re lost, others must be too. 

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and resume the hunt. Two hallway turns later, you find your mark.

Your hand pauses beside the heavy wood, and you take a steadying breath. Again, why are you so nervous? Just go in and take a seat, it’s easy, stop freaking out over nothing. 

The door groans open, hinges protesting the sharp push, and you stumble into a darkened room. The low glow of the projector doesn’t help your blurry vision. Ah, shit, it’s one of those older rooms, so it’s built like a bad movie theater. Oh well, better get to a seat before he spots you. 

Swiftly, you make your way toward the raised steps of the aisle and the second row of chairs, plopping into the first one you reach that’s empty. You’re too busy fiddling with the zipper of your backpack to notice that the speaker has stopped his rasping preamble, but as you pull your laptop out the ominous weight of that heavy silence hits you and you toss a hooded stare toward the front of the lecture hall. 

Immediately, your eyes land on the professor’s and you feel a low shiver shake up your spine. 

He’s watching you. 

The gleam of the overhead projector makes his red eyes flash, and he openly scowls at your gaping expression, his lips curling into a dark sneer.

“Well, thank you for joining us, Miss…?”

He’s waiting for your response and you squeak out your last name, mindlessly rubbing your moistening palms against your thin skirt. 

“Ah, Ms. (L/N). Now that you’ve graced the class with your belated presence, may I continue?”

“Uh,” you gasp out, your mouth dry, tongue sticking to your teeth, “I’m sorry. I got–”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation, or in your case, an excuse. Or are you now attempting to disrupt this class purposefully?”

“Wha– I-I’m–” your words stumble to a halt, voice failing under the intense glare that he’s giving you. “No,” you finish lamely, ducking your head, nails digging into your sweaty palms. 

“Thank you. Do me a favor, stay after class.” His voice is gravel, threatening and low. You don’t like the edge in his tone. It makes your skin prickle and your knees knock. He sounds like the kind of guy that you don’t want to run into in a dark alleyway, or a classroom, for that matter. Even so, it’s not your fault, and despite your feelings of unease, you can’t tamp down your need to protest his unreasonableness. 

“But, professor, I didn’t mean to–”

“If I need to repeat my insistence for silence, I’ll make things easier on both of us and fail you now.”

Stunned and fuming, you bite your tongue and lean back into your chair, crossing your arms and blinking back mounting tears of frustration. Great, just great. It’s the first fucking day of class and it looks like you’re already on his shit list. And for what? For being late on fucking syllabus day! What an ass. 

You look over at him as you defiantly finish setting up your computer, hoping each pull of a zipper or screen reboot will grate under his stuck up skin. He’s not inordinately tall, or old. In fact, he looks like he might only be in early 30s. He has long white hair that’s pulled back into a low ponytail and, from what you can make out in the dim lighting, some kinda skin condition on his forehead. That, or he’s prematurely wrinkled, and let’s be honest, if he’s gone through life with that big of a stick up his ass, he deserves each and every pull on that mottled skin of his. 

You linger in your seat when class is over, lips pulled into a thin line and legs crossed. Finally, when the last student has left the room, professor Shigaraki flips a switch beside his elevated podium, filling the lecture hall with a sharp, fluorescent light. He pauses by his raised computer system and clicks off the overhead projector, blanketing the massive room in an uncomfortable silence. 

“Since you missed the part of class where I go over the syllabus, I’ll give you a brief rundown. Under no circumstances will I tolerate tardiness. If you do it once more I’ll mark you absent and three absences knock you down a full letter grade.”

Glumly, you cross your arms and peer up at him, finally able to get a good look at his face. Your first observation was correct. His skin is sharper around his forehead, but his wavy white hair does a pretty decent job of covering up the imperfections. He has two scars: one nicks across his right eye and the other splits down his rough lips, parting the skin and granting him an even more foreboding appearance than his already gruff demeanor does. He’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans and he’s wearing a low slung v neck shirt. It’s a brilliant red and it brings out that otherworldly glint of his red eyes. Shit, you think bitterly, while he’s not conventionally handsome, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes either. 

You shake your head against these unproductive musings and curtly snap out a clipped, ok.

“What was that?” Shigaraki scoffs, tilting his head at your sullen figure. “Speak up.”

“I said,” you bristle, eyes narrowing and chin lifting, “Okay, I apologize for interrupting your lecture, it won’t happen again. But, in my defense, if I’m allowed to do that in this class, I’ve never been in this building before, and it’s not like–”

“You’re a senior, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then you’ve had four years to figure out the layout of this university. The excuse of ‘being lost,’ isn’t an option for you. You know the buildings and you’re fully capable of turning up early to sort out the rooms.”

You let out a long sigh and look away, mumbling vague protests. This guy is ridiculous. You’re not a science major and it’s not your job to know the ins and outs of each building. How fucking stupid. Who does he think he–

“Speak up. I won’t ask you again.”

You bite your lip and look back at him but he’s moved in that distracted moment, silently stepping down from his raised platform and is now leaning over the first row of chairs, looming over you. You can’t help your sudden flinch as you sink further into your chair, away from him.

“If you’re gonna complain, Ms. (L/N), I’d much rather hear it. Don’t you think It’s rude for you to mutter under your breath about me? You don’t see me doing that to you.”

“Fine,” you blurt out, turning away from his insistent, and all too close, gaze. “I was saying that I’m not a science major. I get that I’m a senior, but you can’t seriously expect me to know every nook and cranny of this campus.”

“No, but I can ask for you to be a little more thoughtful. I put time and effort into my lessons and I won’t have you undermining them by bouncing in here with those legs and that flouncy little skirt.”

You’re about to counter his little haughty speech on politeness when you finally process that final comment he’d breathed out. Flabbergasted, you raise your head back to his, but he’s already moving away, snatching up his shoulder bag and waving you a curt goodbye as he presses open the squeaky door. “Next class is at 10 am sharp, so be on time Ms. (L/N).”

You’re still slumped in your seat when the door glides shut again, your eyes wide and jaw no doubt comically unhinged. 

Wait. Did…did he really just say that?

Obviously, for the next class, you’re early. You’re so early that you’re the first one in the lecture hall. You select a seat toward the back and fiddle with your computer, checking your messages, adjusting your brightness, replying to old emails, anything to keep your head down and attention occupied. 

The door opens and, despite your best efforts, your head flies up, expectant and tense, ready to meet those red eyes of his head on, to show him you’re here and he better… oh. It’s not him. It’s two chattering freshmen. One of them gives you a quick smile, but they both quickly take their seats, a few rows over, and continue their soft conversation, leaving you to fall back onto your earlier distraction tactics. You twiddle with your phone and shoot off a few texts, change your wallpaper, accidentally close an app you meant to leave open, and then the lecture hall door reopens.

He steps in slowly, completely ignoring you and the other scattered students, opting to sort out a few papers and set up his login on the school computer. The minutes tick by and you can’t seem to jerk your eyes away from him, suddenly fascinated by his languid movements. He looks more relaxed than he did on Monday, looser and fluid, completely in his element. True to his word, at ten am on the dot he begins class. 

Professor Shigaraki has an interesting voice. It’s low, calculated, bordering on a rasp. It’s one of those tones that makes you want to lean forward and listen up, even though he’s only discussing cellular biology. Which isn’t exactly the sexiest topic for that shockingly dulcet timbre of his. 

Wait. Sexy? 

Your pen falters against your notebook, and your eyes drift up to his frame. He’s switched the lights off again and the shine of the overhead projector is the only illumination in the hall. His white hair gleams in the dim lighting and his long hands animatedly illustrate his points, elegant fingers opening and closing, gesticulating about the intricate nature of the human genome. You’re so focused on watching his movements that your elbow partner has to push the slip of paper onto your collapsible desktop. You blink at the sheet, your pen nearly clattering from your hand, and you twist to peer at the unfamiliar student beside you. 

“It’s the attendance sheet and, um, I think you’re the last one,” they whisper, careful to lean away after they finish their explanation, not wanting to draw professor Shigaraki’s ire. You maneuver the paper under your pen and scribble down your name, biting your lip and silently berating yourself for your poor selection in seating. Great, now you’ll have to take the paper down to him after class. What if he talks with you again? Shit. 

At 11:25, class ends. You collect your things and plod down the steps, the attendance sheet clutched between your fingers. He’s just snapping the projector light off when you reach his podium. 

“I, uhh, have the attendance. You want me to just leave it here, or…”

“I’ll take it,” his hand is extended toward you and those red eyes are fixed on you now. It’s not the same disgruntled stare he’d given you on Monday. No, this look is a little more curious. Again, you’re taken aback by your reaction to him. He’s not even saying anything, just patiently waiting for you to deposit the sheet into his open palm, but there’s something about him that’s making your heart race. 

Maybe it’s those eyes of his. 

They are an unusual color and they have a strange intensity to them. Right as they narrow, the vermillion shining under the sharp lights; you press the paper to him and he pulls it from you, studying the names that are listed. 

You want to say something. Maybe toss him a quick, friendly, goodbye. Or apologize for the other day? Ugh. What can you even say? ‘Gosh, so glad I was on time today! All that fascinating information about the genetic code! So glad to be here!’ No, that sounds stupid and a little patronizing. Besides, why do you want to talk with him at all? He’s an ass, remember?

“Did you need something?”

His question snaps you out of your stupor and you numbly shake your head at him, already lowering your gaze, but his exhaled chuckle makes you pause, your fingers curling around your backpack straps.  

“I know I upset you the other day, but I appreciate you taking the effort to correct your mistake.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, your eyes finding their way back to his. “Yeah, well, like you said, I’m a senior. Gotta take responsibility for myself someday.”

“Ah,” he smirks, that long scar on his lip quirking upward. “Seems like you’ve got some determination after all. You might be more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

“God,” you scoff, popping out a hip and crossing your arms at the bemused leer on his face. “Just come right out and say you think I’m a bad student, why don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” he amends, tucking the attendance sheet into his shoulder bag and snapping the clasps closed. “There’s plenty of time for you to end up right back at square one with me.”

He’s already halfway out the door by the time you right yourself from the shock of his last comment and you follow him, a string of low curses falling from your lips. 

The spring semester always flies by, and before you realize it, a full month has bled away. You’ve kept that same seat in Shigaraki’s class and at the end of each session you head down to his little platform, attendance sheet outstretched. Each day of class has a different ebb and flow. Sometimes he chats with you and it’s gotten easier to talk with him, both of your eyes holding and lingering, lips raised into calculating smiles. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s flirting with you. Other days he only spares you a curt nod, his white hair curtaining his expression from your curious gaze. You’re not bothered by these silences, not when you’ve got your secret weapon. 

The days that you like best, the ones that you plan, sorting through your closet until you’ve found the perfect choice, are the days when you wear one of your skirts. You’d even gone on some skirt shopping sprees as of late. On those days he doesn’t just make some sort of fleeting eye contact with you, no, on those days he stares. 

At first, you’d tested out your theory, staggering your outfits, careful to not screw up your suspicions with a hasty miscalculation, but as they say, the third time’s the charm. How did he expect you not to notice? He never bothers to hide those sharp ogles and recently you’ve made a point of dramatically gathering your things when you wear these cute little ensembles, bopping down the steps so his eyes have to work to follow the line of your hips and the long paths of your bare legs. One rainy afternoon you’d worn over the knee stockings, that came to an abrupt halt over the plush skin of your upper thigh, under your mini skirt and he’d practically leapt over the podium to grab the sheet from you, his eyes hooded and dark, almost wild.

“Test, on Friday,” he warns, eyes finally rising to meet your bemused expression. “Don’t stay out too late tonight.”

“What makes you say that?” you ask, brushing at a rogue fold in your skirt, luring him back to your legs. 

He scoffs at you, that jagged scar arching into a smirk. “Humph. You’re dressed up. Most of the students just wear the sweats, or pjs, and call it a day.” 

“I like to put a little effort in all that I do,” you retort, grinning up at his vermillion stare. 

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. You certainly look the part…and you’re keeping up with the workload of this course.”

“Ahhh,” you crow, clapping your hands excitedly. “Are you saying I might get an ‘A’ in this class? Be the first time someone’s done that in a while, from what I’ve heard around campus.”

Shigaraki sneers and tuts out an inaudible reply, leaning a little closer to you, making you inadvertently fall back a step. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Awe,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing ok on all the quizzes and the classwork.”

“So far,” he taunts, his pearlescent hair falling over his broad shoulder.

“Tch. Don’t be like that. I’ve been studying.”

“Sometimes it takes more than that.”

“Oh?” you smile, raising your chin. “What else should I be doing, professor?”

“We’ll know that after Friday, won’t we?”

God. 

You’d felt so confident when you’d turned in your test and that stupid, horrible, sexy little quirk of his lip scar that he sends you, when you’d handed him your papers, carries you on some strange, half aroused cloud all weekend. Maybe, just maybe, this class won’t be so bad after all.

The tests are handed back the following Friday, passed from row to row so everyone can fish out their papers and marked Scantrons. Yours, since you still occupy that final seat on the back row, is the last. Biting back a grin, you flip it over, so ready to see that A, that grade that you worked so fucking hard for, that… wait.

The gross flash of red across the top of your paper leaves you reeling, your breath catching against the back of your throat. It’s not a terrible grade, well, it wouldn’t be, but there are only three tests in this class, so it’s going to plummet you down to a B. One more fuck up will leave you with a C, or worse, an automatic failing grade. 

No. No, no, no, no. 

You can’t afford a bad grade, you honestly can’t even let yourself slip to a B. Your fucking cap and gown have just come in and with them that cord that you can wear around your neck at graduation. The one that marks you as honors cum laude. Fuck. You’re already pulling one B, in one of your other classes, because you’ve been focusing so much time and effort on this one. Another B will strip that cord from you, leaving you barren, with a less than ideal GPA. 

God fucking damn it.

You glare up at Shigaraki, who’s busy taking the rest of the class through a review of genetic mutations, but you can’t hear him anymore, too incensed, too overwhelmed to even care about what he’s saying. The test crumples under your fingertips, the paper shaking in your hands, and you seethe, your teeth biting your lower lip to pieces. 

It’s not fair. You’d paid attention. You’ve taken all the notes. Read all the chapters. Drilled and studied till your eyes had drooped, heavy with exhaustion. You’ve done it all right. Plus, he’d been so fucking flirty, so open with you. You’ve never chatted with a professor this way, never gone out of your way to wear clothes they like, that make them watch you, their eyes hungry pinpricks as you walk to them, mindful of the luscious sway of your hips. 

No. Fuck him. Fuck this class.

Before your elbow classmate can leave, you ask for them to hand in the attendance sheet. You barely hear their response, too busy slamming your laptop into your backpack. As you storm past the podium, you can feel his eyes on you. The distant sensation of his gaze makes your flesh prickle, but you ignore your involuntary reaction and shove your way out the door. 

“(Y/N), you can’t switch classes this late. It’s almost midterms. Besides, I don’t think anything has opened up and if you’re going to drop it, you’ve gotta get the signature of the professor,” your advisor tells you, blinking at your stony expression over his thick glasses. “I don’t get it. Why do you want to drop it? Your grades are alright and it’s just one test. You can always try–”

“Gimme the paperwork.”

Shigaraki’s office is on the top floor of the research building, tucked away down another winding and weaving hallway that once again requires your careful inspection to navigate. When you finally hit the right set of doors, you slowly make your way forward, counting the numbers up as you pass. His door is wide open, a yawning cavern that’s filled with the distant light of a lamp. You brush a hand down your skirt, smoothing away any wrinkles and steadying your nerves. 

You’d tossed on the skirt this morning, before you’d gotten the grade, and you hadn’t thought to go home and change, too consumed by that simmering rage bubbling within you. And now, like this fucking class, this skirt felt like a mistake, something stupid and vapid that you wished you had time to change out of. He’d told you he liked your attire, liked that you put effort into your outfits. At the time, you’d been so thrilled and excited that he’d complimented you, but now you wish you were confronting him in baggy jeans or lazy sweats, anything that would turn that avid gaze of his away from you. 

Lost in thought, you waver beside his open door, nibbling on your lips and tugging at your clothes. It’s now or never. No point in putting it off. What’s the worst that can happen? What can he do now? Or, a darker side of you whispers, what do you want him to do to you? What? That’s a stupid thought, you scold yourself, lifting a hand to the wall and rapping against the beige paint, announcing your presence. 

When the sound fades away, swallowed up by the empty and darkened hallway, you poke your head around the corner, searching for him. His head is tilted quizzically, and he blinks twice when he spots you, that all too familiar smirk lifting his lips. 

“Ah, Ms. (L/N), what can I do for you?”

His voice is softer than usual and your name sounds like honey, his tone resting on the syllables and consonants for a beat, almost as if he’s savoring their lift, their sound. You can’t help but swallow heavily at his appraisal. Suddenly this may be a terrible idea. 

Ugh. Get a grip (Y/N). 

“I-I need you to sign this withdrawal paperwork,” you finally reply, digging in your bag and tugging out the thin leaflet, holding it out to him. He’s silent after your demand, meditatively threading his fingers and peering up at you, his red eyes bright. 

“Step inside and shut the door behind you,” he instructs, his gaze never falling from yours. Despite the simplicity of his request, you can’t help but bristle at his imperious tone. Why does he always have to sound like that? Like he’s seconds away from taking control of the situation, or of you? He’s always one stupid step ahead, and no doubt he’s going to try and talk you down. Or, he’ll sign it and say that he always knew you were a screw up, someone who only did things halfway, who could never match up to his lofty expectations. Humph, the sooner you’re outta here and out of his class, the better. So, you obey, closing the door and petulantly flopping into the unsteady chair that sits in front of his low desk. 

He maintains that uneasy quiet, his red eyes whisking over your disgruntled face, waiting, watching. Unable to take this strange standoff, you push the university paperwork toward him, sliding it as close as you dare to his bent elbows. “I would like to withdraw from your class,” you repeat, lips setting into a thin line. 

“Why?” he asks, cocking his head so his loose white hair falls a little further down his rough brow. 

“Something came up.”

“Hmm, I can try to work with a new schedule, if it’s your job, or home life,” he counters, eyes narrowing as he sharpens his observations of your brittle expression. 

“It’s not that,” you smart, crossing your arms. Great, he’s going to make this difficult. 

“Then I suggest you tell me what’s on your mind,” Shigaraki replies, mirroring your movements and leaning back in his chair. 

“I don’t think this class is working out for me.”

He exhales a soft laugh at your lie, and you watch that tiny mole at the edge of his chin lift in his quiet mirth. “This is a freshman level course and you’re a senior. You’re in my class because it’s likely the last pre-rec that you need to take before you graduate.”

“Um, yeah. But–”

“And now, you’re wanting to drop it because of one poor grade.”

You grind your teeth and fix him with a stark glower. “I–”

“There will be two other tests. If you read your syllabus, you’d know this.”

“I read the syllabus. Your tests are worth a stupid amount of points and it only takes one of them to tank my grade.”

“Frankly, you did better than most of the class. You only need to work on practical application. I said that the written portion would be a major component of the exam. I also provided you with a review and a rubric. So I’m not sure–”

“Your grade drops me to a ‘B’, and that ‘B’ pulls me from the honors list. And… well… I thought that…”

“Oh? What did you think?” he presses, his voice suddenly dropping to that lower octave it had drifted into when he said your last name. 

“I thought I’d get a better grade,” you spit out, turning your head and biting at your lip again. 

“Why?” he counters simply. His obtuseness is making your blood boil.

“What do you mean, why?” It takes all of your will to not slip a ‘jackass’ into that question. 

“It’s not a hard thing to answer. I graded you fairly and according to my rubric. Why exactly do you feel you merit a different grade than the one you earned?”

You fall into a frustrated silence. You can hear your heart pounding against your ribs and you want to scream at him, to leap over his desk and shake him until his teeth fucking rattle. Your shoulders are rising and lowering disjointedly and his vermillion eyes are honed in on your face, shifting over your pinched expression with a distant interest. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes and you hastily rub a fist over them, brushing away any rogue drops of moisture.

“How can you ask me that? You think I didn’t notice you staring at my legs? Or that you always had something to say to me when I was wearing a skirt? What was I supposed to think, huh? I fucking thought shit like that was gonna help, ok? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t… fuck.” 

Shigaraki arches forward when you finish, a deep sigh leaching through his parted lips. His teeth snap together when you look up at him, your eyes gaining back some of that earlier defiance, and he gives you a quick grin, clearly pleased by your shift in attitude and pushes your paper aside, fixing you with a dark look. “Here’s a thought, since you feel you’re so different, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a chance to make up the score.”

“I don’t care about the score anymore. I wanna drop your class,” you snap, but it’s a halfhearted barb. Something has changed in his demeanor. He’s dropped the concerned professor act and is leaning so close you can hear his steady intakes of air. He’s only a few inches away; if you want, you could touch him.

“I doubt you want to attend a class in the summer. Besides, they won’t let you walk if you haven’t finished your freshman level courses. And you can’t tell me you don’t want to graduate, to earn that cord that lets you into the honor cum laude. So stop pouting and hear me out. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever like anything about you,” your voice is sharper than you mean it to be, but the challenge makes Shigaraki smile. As it crosses his cracked lips, it pulls that scar up and it makes those eyes of his glow. He looks like the cat that’s got the cream and you’re not sure how to respond, so you cross your legs and wait for him to make the next move. 

“You sure about that? Well, I’ll have to change your tune then, won’t I? But that can wait, lemme tell you what my requirements are. I’ve got a copy of the textbook in here. I’ll have you review some of the major concepts, you’ll read the passages aloud so I’m sure you’re on the right track, you’ll hand the book back to me, and then I’ll verbally quiz you over the material. If you answer them correctly, I’ll bump you to an ‘A’ on your test.”

You have to actively work to keep your mouth closed. “So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And… answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands. 

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin. 

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Your eyes boggle and you have to clench your thighs tighter, your stomach churning, you feel light-headed and you can feel your core fluttering with your sudden arousal. “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Stop gaping at me like that, you’ll make me blush. Now come on.”

Your jaw snaps closed and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind from your whirling emotions. He takes this reaction as a surrender and stands, stepping toward a marred table that rests a little ways away from his desk. He licks his thumb pad and flips through a few pages before finally settling on an appealing section. Once he places it on the table, he twists back to you and crooks a finger your way. “Come here,” he orders, his voice deep and languid. Obediently, you rise on unsteady feet, hands tugging at the length of your skirt, careful to keep it pressed down as you walk toward him. 

He makes space for you to stand in front of the book and shifts back, one hand resting on the table, propping him close to your bent figure. You look up at him, but he only nods his head toward the table, a wicked smile curling the corners of his lips. Blink a few times but finally, the words clear and you can see the block of text that’s in front of you. It’s passages on DNA encodes and RNA proteins, hefty stuff, things that you had to make flash cards for. This isn’t going to be easy. If anything, he’s picked some of the harder concepts, the ones that take steady knowledge in the foundations. Flustered, you look back to him, but he’s moved. He’s leaning against the wide window beside the table, a dark mark against the glass.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a laugh bubbling in his tone.

“There’s no way…” you stammer, shaking your head at him. 

“Want me to throw a curve in?”

“I should ask what kinda curve, but knowing you, it’s likely gonna be something terrible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he rumbles, stepping away from the window and leaning close to your stiff form. “It just takes an open mind and some enthusiasm on your part.”

“Enthusiasm?” you question, trying your best to withstand his closeness. You can feel the heat radiating off of his broad shoulder and if you tilt a little nearer, you could graze against him, or feel his breath on your skin. 

“You’re right,” he amends, his forearm contacting your side. You startle at the touch, a gasp falling from your lips, but you don’t pull away and you can’t stop staring up at him, your eyes wide. “Obedience is a better word. From here on out, whatever I tell you to do, I expect you to obey it, although it’s not exactly, ah, school approved.”

“You want me to suck you off or something?” you sneer, hoping to stumble him off his guard, even if it’s only for an instant. Too bad he’s always one step ahead. 

“Don’t be vulgar. Think outside of the box, (Y/N). Do you think I’m going to go for something so short sighted when I could have you bending to my will? Obeying every little demand that I make? I’d much rather see if that skin of yours tastes as good as it looks, then simply have you on your knees. No, I want you to fucking scream for me while I stuff you full of my cock. But first, you need to put in some work. You should know that by now.”

Oxygen is suddenly very hard to come by and you can feel your mind hazing over as you stammer up at him, your mind flitting from word to word disjointedly. Shigaraki grants you a wolfish grin, and he dips his lips beside your ear, whispering over those tiny hairs that rest against your tender skin. “I’ll make this part easy. Nod and I’ll give you the first set of instructions.” 

What did he say? Nod? What happens when you nod? Fuck, why are you letting him do this? Is your grade really worth it? Are you that desperate that… that… 

Shigaraki is whispering other promises over you as you war with yourself, speaking his words gently, slowly, his breath hot as it fans over your neck. It’s like you’ve fallen under some kinda spell and before you realize it, your traitorous head is bobbing up and down, letting him know you want him to keep going.

“Perfect,” he sighs, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear, jerking a shiver from you. “Now, lean forward and put your hands against the table.” 

You do as he says, but he’s not satisfied with your positioning, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and yanking you forward, jutting your ass out and pressing your chest down, maneuvering you until your nose is right above the pages of the textbook. “There we go,” he rasps, pulling away so he can admire your splayed form. “Hmm, your legs are too close together. Spread them.” Knees trembling, you obey, gasping when he runs a palm against the curve of your thighs.

“You’ve got such nice legs (Y/N), so let’s put them on display, shall we?” His fingers search against the top of your skirt and they still when he reaches his prize: the zipper. When he pulls it down, you let out a sharp squeak of protestation but he silences you with a swift pinch to your side. 

“Now, now, don’t be like that. You nodded, remember? Besides, you could have left when I told you I’d give you a curve but you couldn’t help yourself could you? You want me to keep going and to do that, I need you to take this skirt off. No, don’t move. I’ll get rid of it for you. Why don’t you focus on the task at hand, hmm? Aren’t you supposed to be reading for me?”

You arch away from his fingers and he chuckles at your impudence, one large hand hooking under your chin and pulling you toward his face. His red eyes blaze as they find yours, the dark pupils threatening to swallow up that deep vermillion. “Let’s start with the second paragraph. If you do well, I might grant you a reprieve.” 

Jerking your face from his grip, you twist back to the text, trying, and failing, to ignore his inquisitive fingers, unable to resist sighing as he works one up your inner thigh. He pauses when no words fall from your lips and you grumble out a few low curses before acquiescing to his silent demand. 

“The flow of genetic information in cells from DNA to mRNA to protein is described by the Central Dogma, which states that genes specify the sequence of mRNAs, which specify the sequence of proteins. The decoding of one molecule… the… the… molecule… by spec-specific…”

He’s slipped your skirt down over the swell of your ass, but he’s taking his time, flexing out the front of the material and dipping his fingers over the bump of your lower stomach, kneading into the delicate flesh that’s stretched out for him. You can’t help the twitch of your spine and you involuntarily wiggle, palms slipping forward, dragging you further along the tabletop. Shigaraki chuckles above you, running his rough lips over the back of your neck.

“You’re so sensitive. I’ve barely touched you.” 

He circles his hands back to your skirt and edges it along, lowering it sharply on one side and then giving the same treatment to the other. You’re doing your best to keep up with your stammering readings, but it’s difficult when he keeps sighing and running his long nails across your newly bared skin. Finally, he works the skirt down and it thumps against your bare ankles; the fabric tickling your skin. 

Meanwhile, his other fingers skitter against the elastic band of your rapidly dampening panties. Once he hooks the lace under his hand, he yanks them along your legs, trailing them sinfully slowly, ensuring that they glide down the billow of your thighs. His teeth nip at your ear when you stumble to a halt in your recitation and your hands tense over the grains of wood beneath them, your nails pinching into your palms. “If you stop, I stop,” he warns, his head bumping against yours, his sharp nose pressing against your pulse.

“You’re not exactly making this easy,” you grumble, doing your best to ignore his renewed pets and strokes. 

“Stop complaining,” he smirks, leaning away from your head to peer at your newly exposed flesh. “You better pay attention to what you’re reading or you’re not going to pass the questions I’ll be asking you.”

“Yeah, yeah, ow!” you squawk, whipping your head around to glare up at him. He fucking pinched you again! This time, he’d slipped his hand between your spread legs and tweaked your inner thigh, painfully. 

“Read,” he repeats, running those guilty fingers upward, lingering beside the heat of your cunt, careful to not get too close. When you start on the next sentence, one of his hands tugs up the fabric of your shirt, snaking upward until he’s thumbing against the wire of your bra. Once again, you falter to a halt and exhale a wavering breath. 

Goddamn it. This review is no review. You’ll be lucky if you can even recall what a cell is if he keeps this up. You hear his ominous intake of air and quickly resume your recitation, mumbling something about RNA and mRNA differences. 

Wait. Didn’t you just…  

“Looks like you’re having trouble listening to me. I told you to read aloud, not to repeat the same passages over and over.”

“Hey, at least I’ll have a firm grasp on those. You should ask me something about that s-section… ah–”

The hand that was resting under the cup of your bra has made its way underneath the lightly padded material, and his thumb and index fingers have trapped your peaked nipple between them. As soon as your snarky comment left your mouth, he’d twisted the bud, squeezing it until it throbbed. 

“Pay attention,” he commands, shoving your bra upward, freeing the globes of your breasts and cupping both of his broad hands under them. Your abused nipple stings and the mixture of sharp pain and jarring arousal goes right through you, stoking that coil that pulsed within your core, and sending a tacky flush of your essence down your spread thighs.

The next few words are a struggle. The text keeps blurring and your breaths are coming in fast and heavy. Shigaraki is still feeling you up, keeping his lips close to your ears, rasping sharp commands to you and dealing out lightning fast rounds of pinches and squeezes each time you falter. 

“I–I can’t… I don’t even know what I’m reading anymore,” you bemoan, your hips pressing against the edge of the table, legs trembling as you attempt to keep them apart. He’s deliberately ignoring your throbbing clit and a desperate edge is creeping into your voice. 

“Are you always this whiny? Fine. I’ll give you a moment to read without any distractions.”

Thank God.

True to his word, he slips away from your back and you’re left shivering against his sudden absence. Despite your quaking, you’re determined to make the most of this chance and you quickly read out the paragraphs that are on the second page. As you ramble down to the last bit of text, you realize you can’t hear him anymore and when you finish the last sentence; you start to really wonder where he’s drifted off to. A tense silence follows your completion of the material and you arch up on the tips of your toes, jutting your ass out and stretching the stiffened muscles of your lower back. 

“Didn’t say you could stop reading, and judging from all of your complaints, I don’t think you got some of those earlier concepts, so I’d suggest doing a quick review,” he taunts, the sudden rasp of his voice startling a low gasp from your lips. 

He’s close; somewhere behind you and to the left from the sound of it. You try to twist around, your chest lifting from the table, and when he notices, his hands return, creating a rough pressure against your neck as he forces your body back down. His weight plasters you to the surface, scraping your partially exposed stomach and tender breasts over the nicked wood. Shigaraki is merciless in his swift correction, his breath puffing out angrily behind you. “Didn’t say you could move, either.”

Stunned, you freeze. Your arms are arched awkwardly, but he keeps his weight against you, flattening your breasts and forcing your back to arch into an awkward bend. Fuck, you think, how are you supposed to stay like this? Your legs are already aching and if he shifts away again, he’s likely going to expect you to maintain this absurd pose.  

“Yes,” he groans, his voice catching against the word, “Good girl. Now, stay just like that.”

Damn it.

“Go on, read the first part again,” he instructs. 

“The entire genetic content of a cell is known as its genome and the study of genomes is gen-genomics. In eukaryotic cells, but… but not in p-prokaryotes, DNA forms a complex with histone proteins… with histone proteins… sub-substance… of…”

His teeth have latched onto your neck, and he’s sucking bruises into your tender skin. He’s still pinning you to the table, but his hands are widening their explorations. He’s started dragging a fingernail across the puffy folds of your cunt, teasing against the dripping and swollen flesh, chuckling when you buck against his hold. 

“You always seem to lose it when you get to cellular modulations.”  

“I–I–It’s not… I can’t help that you keep…” you whimper, your fingers curling under your palms, head shaking back and forth. You can’t think. He’s not being fucking fair, and you can’t even string your goddamn words together. Shit. “Y-you’re not being fair,” you accuse, falling on the only thing that keeps running through your mind, your splayed feet shifting uncomfortably under you.

“Not fair? Not once did I say fairness would come into this arrangement,” he lifts himself off of your back and leans beside you, one arm planted beside your crooked elbow. His fingers trace over the curve of your ass, cupping at the thickest part of you and squeezing. 

“But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a little satisfaction out of this arrangement. I bet you look good when you cum. And you’ve been working so hard to get my attention these last few months. So careful to do what I tell you. Looking at me with those big eyes of yours, all wide eyed every time I catch you looking at me. And don’t even get me started on your lips. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking bend you over after class, especially when you started wearing all of those cute little skirts for me. Ahhh, don’t moan like that, I won’t be able to help myself if you do. Let’s see how you’re doing, shall we?” 

Without warning, he slips his longest digit into your cunt, groaning loudly when he’s sucked into your welcoming heat. Your pussy, hungry for any kind of scrap, ripples around his intrusion, clamping and pulling, desperate for more. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his weight falling against your shoulder. “You’re soaking.” His elegant digit pushes deeper and you roll your hips under him, urging him closer, sighing when he sinks to the last knuckle. As he pulls his finger back, he adds another, swiftly v-ing the two before curving them together as they slip back out, dragging a steady line of pleasure from your quivering cunt. Shigaraki whispers another round of awed praise against your ear, his voice dark and breathless. 

A third digit is added on another trip out, and it creates a ragged sensation within you. It’s close to what you like, but he’s stretching you too far and it’s starting to hurt. He either needs to speed up, or give you a little more pressure. If you can hump your clit against the edge of the table, maybe it’ll give you the friction that you need. When you mindlessly buck your hips, your thighs threatening to lose that spread, he stops, holding his fingers inside you, laughing as you agitatedly try to shift him back into his earlier rhythm.

“So eager. I’d say you’re ready for my questions.”

“W-what?” you gasp, wholly focused on making him restart the push and pull of his fingers inside you. 

“I’ll start you off with something easy. What’s the cell membrane?”

“W-what? The cell… ah–” 

“Answer me. Now,” he grunts, leaning forward, re-steadying you as his fingers pull outward, dragging against your sensitive folds and schlicking through your arousal lewdly, loudly. You moan and your eyes roll back, completely ignoring his demand as you fall into the haze of pleasure that comes after his movements. 

His free hand travels up your neck and he tangles his fingers into the tendrils of your hair, yanking and jerking at the strands, demanding your attention.  

“I said, answer me.”

“Shigaraki–I–fuck. I can’t even… ugh… think right now!”

“Do you want the grade, or not?” he questions, his voice tense. “Answer correctly and I’ll give you what you want.” 

“I–I don’t think I can,” you whine, pressing your hips back as he thrusts his fingers forward again, curving them upward, searching for the spongy pad of nerves that rest against the front of your pelvis. 

“Oh? What happened to wanting that A? What about your graduation? You gonna let me fuck up your entire college career? I can do it, you know. I’ve done it to so many simpering freshmen. I fail kids left and right and you’re no different, (Y/N). 

The university lets me ahh–there it is! God, you’re so fucking wet. 

Where was I? The university can’t say no to me; they let me do what I want. I bring in too much money, too many tempting grants, and that’s all they really care about. So what’s it gonna be? Let me see that you can answer this basic crap and I’ll pass you. Or would you like for me to tie you down and force it outta you another way?”

He’s picked up the pace of his fingers as he rambles over you and a swift press against that newly discovered spot inside you has you falling to pieces in his hands, popping up onto your tiptoes and rutting yourself against the surface of the table. “O-ok, God, ok! Just–fucking repeat the goddamn question,” you pant, head slumping forward, forcing his fingers to tighten against your hair to hold you upright. 

“What is the cell membrane?” 

You wince your eyes closed, trying to rack your brain to focus on something other than the heavy pressure of the three fingers that are teasing their way across your dribbling pussy. He’s moving his presses with a lackadaisical, inconsistent rhythm now and it’s hard to fucking think. You can’t tell if his next thrust will be hard, or soft, or so rough that it’s bordering on that bittersweet line of pain. 

You shake your head, doing your best to ignore the mounting pressure that he’s building inside you and the ache of your neck and legs. Finally, after another sharp tap against that secret bunch of nerves at the front of your cunt, you latch onto a vague remembrance. 

“It… it’s a double layer of–of phospholipids that make a boundary between the cell and t-the surrounding… ugh… it controls the passage of materials.”

“Very good. Elaborate on the cellular wall.”

He’s unrelenting in his domineering treatment, twisting and frigging his fingers each time your breath hitches, and your arousal is leaking down your legs, making your skin stick and pull. It’s too much, you can’t! How can he even ask this? Words are falling from your lips incoherently, and all too soon you’re gasping out his name rather than reciting the answer. 

“Cellular–oh, fuck, Shi–Shigaraki–Please, keep–don’t stop! S-Shigaraki, God that… feels… ah–keep going!”

He ignores your request and pulls his fingers away, robbing you of that sweet pressure that he’s so carefully mounted within you. 

“I’ll count that one as incorrect. Your ‘A’ is swiftly becoming an ‘A’ minus, (Y/N)” he snarls, his teeth gritted, hands falling to the swell of your hips, wet fingers digging into your soft skin. 

“What? No! You didn’t give me enough… e-enough time! How can–can you expect me to answer that qui-quickly!”

“Let’s try another.” 

It hurts. That ache that he’s drawn out of you is starting to sting and throb and he’s being such a dick about it! You twist and grind under him, and he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“I don’t–” you protest weakly, your legs trembling and chest heaving under his weight.  

“Do you want this? Wouldn’t you like to pass this class? To graduate with honors?” he growls, leaning closer, his hands braced against you, his fingers no doubt leaving bruises on the supple crest of your hips. 

“You’re such an ass! Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then answer another question. What’s diffusion?”

“D-diffu-diffusion is the process by which molecules move from an a-area of… of… fuck- of high concentration, to low concentration. Shigaraki!”

“I should count that as another miss, but you got the major concept correct.” He removes his fingers from your waist and yanks your ass toward him, keeping your overeager hips away from the fleeting relief of the sturdy table. “Pop your legs together,” he commands, one hand wrapping around your arched throat, squeezing until you obey. His other hand drops to that thatch of curls that rest between your quivering thighs and he gathers up your gossamer strands, rubbing against your clit for one hazy instant, sending a flash of spots across your vision.

“Mmm, now that’s a pretty sight. Good girl, don’t move,” he reminds you and you want to scream at him. Right before you can spit some frustrated vitriol out, he’s releasing your neck, his hands dropping from your skin and letting you fall back to the uneven surface below. Just before your chin contacts the wood, his hand is back in your hair, tugging you upward, holding you a few inches above the table. The sharp pain makes your scalp tingle and you unconsciously rut against the tempting heat that’s now plastered to your ass. He’s hard. You can feel the stiff bulge of his cock straining against the front of his dark jeans, pressing into the cleft of your posterior. 

“T-that’ can’t be comfortable,” you pant, twisting your head so you can look up at him from the curve of your shoulder.

“Oh? You worried about my cock?” he asks, his red eyes flashing down at you challengingly. You don’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting instead to grind your ass up, catching against the jut of his length, earning yourself a low groan. His lips curl when you repeat the motion and you realize you love watching that smug face of his drift into a look of tense pleasure. It makes his scar on his lip flush and those red eyes of his fall to a lazy half mast. He spies your arched brow and pleased grin and pushes himself off of you, leaving you alone and open on the table.   

“Keep pushing your luck. I’m more than happy to drop you back to a B.”

“What?” you scoff, teeth clinking together as you clench your jaw. “I didn’t move!”

“No, but you’re trying to take control of this and we can’t have that can we?” Shigaraki sneers. “Now, how shall I punish you?”

“P-punish me?” you stammer, a chill racing down your spine. 

“Ah, I know. This’ll really piss you off,” he twists from your strained gaze and walks back toward his desk. What? What the fuck does he mean? You can’t see him from this angle, not with the way your legs are stretched and back is lowered, but it doesn’t stop you from trying, your chin lifting upwards as you do your best to keep him in focus. 

Ugh. It’s no use. He’s slipped past your field of vision. 

Hearing is likely your best bet, so you shift your forehead back to the table and listen, straining your ears to pick up any morsel. Something opens and closes and you catch the sound of the wheels of his chair as they shift, squeaking across the floor, and the groaning of the springs when his weight is applied to the cheap leather. 

Okay, so he’s in his chair. Is he just gonna look at you? That’s not… wait… 

There’s a faint clicking sound. 

It’s both familiar and unfamiliar to your ears, but once the teeth slide over the last pull, you realize. It’s a zipper. 

Oh fuck. Is he going to jerk himself off? With a gasp, your head whips back around. He’s still positioned himself away from you, and you can only just make out the sounds that are accompanying the undoubted rise and fall of his fist. All you can see is a tiny sliver of his body, but you catch sight of the coiling muscles on his neck and you notice that his head is dipped forward, pearl white hair settling across the cut of his collarbone. The one red eye that meets yours is blazing and hungry, it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand up.  

God, he’s staring at you, watching you, getting himself off as you’re half naked and bent over a desk in his office, fully subjugating yourself to his whims and fancies for the sake of your grade. 

Damn it, (Y/N). This should not be a fucking turn on. You should be disgusted, but the flush of slick that drips down your thigh says otherwise. 

He lets out a choked moan, picking up the pace of his hand, letting you hear the click and slip of his palm as it strokes up and down his cock. A shiver echoes up your spine and your hips seem to have a mind of their own, grinding your clenched thighs over the dip of the table, easing the clenching pulsations that your cunt is shuddering through you.

“Look at you, so desperate for my touch that you’re humping the fucking table. Such a dirty girl, and so disobedient. You’ve only answered a few of my questions correctly and yet your slutty little mouth and body keep pushing at me. Making me put you in your place. Let me ask you something, why should I go out of my way to fix your grade when you can’t even prove to me you understand the simplest concepts? 

Ah, here’s a thought. What if I told you I’ll wave the other requirements; no more readings, no more quizzes, but I won’t let you cum? What if I just get myself off? You’re putting on a such a good show for me! Why should I bother with seeing that you’re satisfied when that table seems to do the job for you? Sound good? Or would you like for me to come back over there and make you cum?”

“I–I don’t… I don’t want…” You can’t get the words out, your tongue feels leaden between your lips and you can’t think of anything but the steady itch that’s spreading from your clit. 

“Speak up,” Shigaraki demands, slowing his jerking fingers. The chair he’s sitting in groans as he leans forward, and his eyes wide as they take in the delicious sight that’s propped before him. “You don’t want to cum? Is that it? You’d like for me to get myself off and leave you there?”

“No!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the scuffed wood of the table. “I-I want you to make me cum.”

There’s a sharp clatter and you jump at the abrupt noise. It must be the chair you think, your heart pounding against your chest, waiting for Shigaraki’s next move. He only lets a few seconds drift by before he presses himself back to you. He leans his broad chest over your back, the front of his legs pushing against the back of yours. His exposed length is wedged firmly against the cleft of your ass and its tempting hardness makes you squirm under him, but he’s propelling you forward, pinning you against the rough wood, and you can only flail uselessly under his control. His lips skim over your neck and he bites into your skin, sucking and licking bruises as he inches closer to your pulse.  

You say his name pitifully, wantonly, and he lets out a shaky gasp. Something about your tone has shifted something within him and you can feel his cock swelling, dripping a rope of wet pre-cum down your shaking leg. 

He leans away, removing his sticky hardness from your ass. “Seems your priorities have shifted. You’re a little preoccupied right now, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice gravel scraping against your overwhelmed senses. You let out a weak moan and he snaps into action, his fingers pushing under your flattened stomach and tugging against the fabric that he finds. He yanks you upward, pulling your shirt up as he goes. His palms dip under your half lifted bra, and he cups at your breasts, massaging the rounded bulbs and plucking at your peaked nipples. Your head lolls back, and he sucks at your earlobe again, his breath warm and rasping as it passes by. 

“Hold still,” he commands. 

It’s not an easy position, this stretched upward arch that he’s forced you into, but it’s worth it when you feel his cock pushing between your tensed legs. He doesn’t thrust into you, opting to run his weeping tip against your slippery folds, pressing until his bulbous head is twitching against your pulsing clit. 

Goddamn it, you think as he stills, his lips smacking open-mouthed kisses over your shoulder, it’s not enough. You wiggle your hips back and forth and he abruptly exerts a firm pressure against your windpipe, leaving you sputtering and gasping. “What’s wrong? Not happy with this? Do you think you deserve something more? Do you think you’ve earned that?” He shoves you back against the surface of the table, his broad chest following the plane of your back, trapping you under his heavy form. 

You’d replied, you know you must have, but you can’t hear yourself anymore, your attention attuned to the warm length that’s pressed against your shuddering folds. You’d likely thrown in a please for good measure because Shigaraki rewards you with a quick peck to your shivering neck and his thumb, swirling it around your clit, creating a cresting ache that leaves you mumbling incoherently, a thin line of drool slipping from your parted lips. As he keeps that faint osculation up, your fingernails scrape over the wood of the table, your feet lifting you onto your toes, curving your back, and shoving your leaking pussy into his open palm. 

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Shigaraki says, a breathy desperation lingering around the edges of his rasping voice. “But it’s just not enough, right?” 

You nod, licking up some of the excess saliva that’s built under your heavy tongue and crane your head back at him. His eyes are the first thing you see. They’re wild, ravenous and glinting with a roughness that makes you whisper out a soft whine. Fuck. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to want him this badly. Goddamn it. Now that he’s caught your gaze, he won’t let you look away, and he presses himself closer, his cock twitching and warm, the tip rubbing back and forth, keeping time with his circling thumb.

“You gonna fuck me, or not?” you finally ask, unsticking your lips and smirking up at his hardened face. 

“Tch. Don’t rush me,” he grumbles, removing his hand and teasing cock from your cunt, watching as your body convulses under him, your pussy quivering against the excess stimulation that he’s wrought over you. Your thighs burn, aching to break free from his control, to rub against that throb, that tingling that keeps shuddering outward.

“One more question,” he tells you, lifting his dripping thumb to his lips and sucking off the traces of your arousal. The sight of him licking his pink tongue over his gleaming knuckles almost makes you lose your balance, your arms shaking precariously under you. 

“A-another? Come on,” you pout, your eyes following the curve of his wicked lips, watching as his scar quirks upward, amused by your useless defiance. 

“Make you a deal, answer it correctly and I’ll give you my cock. Sound fair?”

“Ugh, whatever, just hurry up,” you snap, so impatient and turned on that you can hardly think. 

The tip of his cock presses against your sopping entrance, pushing forward just enough to part your dripping folds but stopping before he clears that first, tight ring of flesh. The promise of his dribbling tip makes you lose any semblance of self-control. You thrash under him, but he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“No! Don’t stop! Come on Sh-Shigaraki–Don’t be such a fucking–ah–” 

“Do you want this? Do you want my cock?” he growls, leaning over you, his fingers squeezing down, no doubt leaving bruises in the supple crest of your hips. 

“Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then you better answer. What are cytosines?”

“They… they’re n-nitrogenous base… fuck… base that pair… that pair with guanine during D-DNA replication… I–please, please, Shigaraki! Fuck me! I want your cock! Fuck me, fuck me!”

Thankfully, he either takes pity on you, or can’t control himself anymore, his hips surging forward, gliding his thick length into your cunt and snarling at the mind numbing heat that waits for him. He keeps driving upward until he bottoms out, sharp hipbones grinding against the plushness of your ass. 

He’s not gentle with you, no he’s animalistic and raw, his thrusts papping into you with a terrifying strength. You would have liked something slower, something that lets you enjoy each imperfection and dip that raced along his cock, but this, oh, this is an exception because this is perfect. It’s not what you want, but it is what you need. 

The heavy fullness that he’s stuffing you with leaves you breathless, but you somehow manage to gasp out a string of nonsensical praises each time he drives back into you, overwrought by his roughness. 

This coupling isn’t kind, isn’t right, and is not healthy, for either of you. No, not with the way he’s using your shivering body, distracted with slacking that euphoric thrum that’s making his cock pulse and swell inside you.

But fuck it feels good and you can’t help but tremble with delight. These intoxicating thrusts of his ram him up against something that’s buried deep inside you, and each time he hits it another star of bright pleasure races through you. The familiar coiling of release is steadily mounting with each rapid fire rut he gives you and if he could just, ah, there’s something that’s… no, fuck, it’s, it’s not going to work. It feels good, but it’s missing one vital ingredient, one thing that he’s neglected to pay attention to, to notice. 

Your clit needs to be tweaked and rolled, and right now it’s pulsing away against the table, beating a sad tattoo into the grainy wood. Oh well, you think, head fuzzy, lost in the euphoria of his powerful cants, grinding your ass into his hips as he digs into another teeth chattering thrust. He’ll likely finish soon, and you’ll probably need to get yourself off later. It’s not something new, and it’s not like he’s going to care enough to focus on that, on you. This whole thing has been about control, so there’s likely no room for your own pleasure.

“What’s wrong,” he gasps out, his fingers lifting from your hips to curl beside your turned head. 

“What? N-nothing–I–” you pant, eyes rolling back as he hits that spongy patch of nerves again. 

“Tch. Hold on,” he interrupts, his voice rasping and breathy. He pulls himself out of you with a grunt and yanks you upward, hauling you onto the tabletop and flipping you on your back, bending your stiffened legs and bracing your knees against his lean forearms. 

He holds you apart, spreading you open with his powerful hands. You can see him properly now, and the sight makes your breath catch against the back of your throat. Fuck, he looks good. 

His long white hair is draped across his bare shoulders and his eyes are blazing pits of hunger, devouring the sight of you with those red irises. His jaw is clenched, and he glares down at you from his imperious height, his nostrils flaring as he drags in a quick intake of air. To your shock, he gives you a little time to acclimate to this new position, opting to languidly step forward, letting his slippery cock head press and tease at the dip of your opening. But right when you think he’ll move again, he stops, his eyes roving over the lines of your face. 

His sudden stillness makes you peer quizzically up at him and you scoot closer, your feet lifting from the table. The movement snaps him out of his stupor and he grabs your ankles, roughly pinning you back down.

“Keep still,” he snarls through clenched teeth, that scar of his lifting. 

You nod mutely and he rewards your unquestioning obedience with another powerful thrust, sinking his swollen cock back into your waiting cunt. He lets out a sharp groan and grabs at your hips, jerking you forward, already drifting back into that all-consuming rhythm he’d started earlier. His ruts are a little slower from this angle but, in no time at all, that familiar ache pools in your core, stoking and building at an alarming rate. The driving force of his hips soon has you blinking back spots and distant stars, and this time he adds the all important pressure of his thumb, circling the finger pad over your clit and dragging a broken moan from your quivering lips. 

“So that’s what you needed. You close?” he grits out, his lips set in a curled scowl. He’s lost some of that early control, his hips stuttering as they connect with yours, his power lessening, cooling, as he looks for your release. 

“I–I think–oh fuck, do that again. Yes! Just–ah!”

He angles your hips upward and gives your clit another quick oscillation, pressing down until you’re gasping. “There you go. That felt good. You’re getting tighter,” he laughs, looming over you, shoving your heaving chest downward as he jerks your hips into him, forcing your body to do most of the motion, making your shoulder blades scrape across the uneven wood. “Cum for me. Fucking cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum and I’ll give you your A, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

Your spine arches as you break around him, your cunt greedily pulling him deeper, slipping him past the barrier of your tender cervix and earning you a weak shout of praise from Shigaraki. Seconds later, he’s pulsing and twitching against your walls, the warm pooling of his cum filling you up and spilling down your spread thighs. 

His head drops to your shoulder and the rough skin of his forehead sticks to your sweat dampened flesh. For a long moment you’re both still, each of you struggling to catch your breath, luxuriating in the tingling sensation of release. 

“I fucking hate you, you know,” you gasp out, your arms circling his back, fingertips etching vague patterns over his neck and shoulders. 

“Ha,” he snorts, “I’ll have to remember that. Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll pay you back for that little remark next time.”

“Oh? Next time?” you chuckle, moaning as he twists out of your hold and pulls his softening length out of you. 

“I’ll fail you on every assignment if you try to keep away,” he threatens, his eyes falling to the gaping mess that he’s left behind. You cross your legs, denying him the satisfaction of leering at your dripping pussy. 

“Fine. But next time, fuck me on something softer than a damn table.”

tags: @spicy-skull​, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @rekoii​, @diaouranask​, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​, @libiraki​ <--- i’m coming for you. you’re gonna have to read for this, lady. so, uh, i’m officially noneconing you here. 

notes: you made it! this thing is a monster & i’m so sorry i can never stfu

[comicaurora]

Hi! No pressure to answer, 'cuz I know it's not exactly comic related, but how easy was setting up/moderating your site?

It wasn't too bad! Like every big project, it was kind of a matter of solving the big problems first and then solving the little problems that big problem revealed - and then solving all the even smaller problems those problems revealed. It's a pretty fractal process, but eventually you get to the point where the problems are so tiny it's not worth pulling the site apart to get to them.

The rough process was:

FIRST BIG PROBLEM - getting the domain set up. I got it from a web hosting provider that allowed me unlimited server storage - very important for the number of large images I needed to upload, and since I didn't need users or email addresses or anything it was kind of my only requirement. This part was fairly painless.

SECOND BIG PROBLEM - getting the site arranged correctly. I looked up some tutorials for wordpress webcomic sites, found appropriate plugins and started playing with themes and customization. This part I remember took a few days, but it gave me the basic foundations of the site - the ability for me to add new pages, the ability for users to navigate between pages, all the logos and buttons and backgrounds and stuff. There are ways to code this manually, but I wasn't eager to revisit the horrors of linked lists if I didn't have to. This is also around when I started uploading the first chapter and scheduling the second and third chapter pages. This step was about building out the foundations of the site and making it look how I wanted it to look, so that theoretically after this point all I'd need to worry about was scheduling more pages and occasionally filtering comments for spam.

SMALLER PROBLEM - oopsies, my load times are garbage. The file size I work at is 9000 pixels tall, which is great for detailed artwork but makes wifi networks cry. All my shiny buttons and logos were huge and high-resolution, and they were being loaded every time someone loaded a page. It wasn't so bad to load up the homepage once to read the new page, but reading the archive was unbearably slow. I went a little mad trying to optimize it - first step was downscaling the pages to a slightly more sensible 2000x2829, but I wanted to avoid losing image resolution as much as possible because the entire point of the site was showing people the comic, so optimizing those images any further wasn't an option. Instead I pulled in browser caching, a serverside caching plugin that'd serve saved pages rather than rebuilding them from the ground up every time, and eventually Cloudflare to add an additional layer of solidity to the structure and make sure the site didn't crash again. This was a much longer and more stressful process, because load times are one thing I can't directly control. The process of site optimization was a lot of throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what stuck, and I had to actively stop myself from continuing the optimization spiral - after a while the temptation to rebuild it better than before was turning into the temptation to gut the site and rework it from scratch.

ASSORTED TINY PROBLEMS: changing my image naming scheme so people couldn't interpolate the name of future page images and load them directly as soon as I scheduled them, making it so people couldn't directly access my file directory and read ahead (which only happened once, I think, and was a pretty easy permission fix that I'm not entirely sure why it isn't just automatically set that way), adding spam filter terms to avoid getting inundated by random spambot waves, building my own wordpress theme rather than modifying an existing one and risking it getting updated out from under me, IP blocking my cyberstalker that one time (fortunately very easy and satisfying), fixing a problem where scheduled posts started getting skipped over (slightly more difficult), failing to fix the problem where comment threads broke after the site crash (my b)

Setting up a website like this isn't a quick process, and I wouldn't call it an easy process either, but it's very manageable. The problems don't come at you all at once. It's just about solving one thing at a time at a sustainable pace that won't burn you out or depress you.

[lawyersdatascraping]

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[bahorell]

Les Amis (& co.) and what they’re like camping

Enjolras: Is kinda scared of the woods. Also he’s that guy that really has a hard time putting his phone down because “I just have to respond to this one email”. “Yeah give me one second I’m dealing with a work thing”. “omg did you hear about what’s happening in Canada? It’s horrible those poor people” “Enj the point of this is to get away from everything for a couple days” “Right I know…”. So if there’s even one bar of service they gotta go find a different place. When he isn’t on his phone he’s very active in all his friends activities. He’s not super outdoors-y so he mostly tags along when other people do things. He’ll have Baz or Courf take him on rides on their paddle boards. He’ll tag along when Chetta and Ferre go on hikes. He’ll be Feuilly’s little helper person when Feuilly’s working on building the fire. Or he’ll just hand out with people at camp or on the beach of the lake/river and just talk.

Combeferre: Loves camping because of all the bugs and critters! Found the tiniest little frogs on the shore of the lake one time and made everybody look at them. Brings plant and animal and bug ID books with him and will take little leaves or flowers and stick them in the pages of the book when he thinks he found a match. He doesn’t usually snack too much when he’s at home but when he’s in the woods he is always eating something and it’s really when he’ll let himself just go balls to the wall with the junk food. The only thing he doesn’t really like about camping is that he doesn’t get to go on jogs in the morning because he’s smart enough to not run into the woods in the middle of nowhere with no service by himself.

Courfeyrac: Has an inflatable paddle board that he bought! He likes to play lifeguard and will paddle around to all his friends who are swimming and give them rides to shore. He likes to share his paddle board with his friends but he didn’t have enough money to buy a super super fancy one that has a large weight capacity so usually if someone else is on it with him it sinks into the water enough to stress him out. Also he shares a big tent with Combeferre and Enjolras and he likes to sleep in the middle of the two of them.

Joly: Invested in a super super cute small teardrop camping trailer a couple years ago. It’s easier for him to get in and out of than a tent or god forbid a hammock (Bahorel has to lift him into it then Joly wants to get in one… this is also partially because Bahorel sets up all the hammocks and they are p much impossible to get in unless you are also 6’7”) The inside of the camper is just a bed and the back hatch opens up to cabinets and drawers and a counter and stuff that makes a nice little make shift kitchen. He’ll set up the camp stove and the cooking area right next to it. He’s not super involved in any of the cooking it just gives him less stress when the food area is organized and the table legs are on a flat surface.

Jehan: Jehan tells the ghost stories. They aren’t very good at telling ghost stories so nobody really gets scared (except for Marius and if they’re really doing a good job Enj will get a little spooked). They also wake up with the sunrise so they’re up and ready to start the day at like 5am… and they really aren’t quiet about it so they manage to wake up 2/3 of everybody else at camp. Has more dietary needs than other people so when every one gets together to build a grocery list and meal plan for the trip they’ll make their own list. They really don’t mind because they HATE sharing snacks so having their own little baby cooler all to themselves is the best. Bousset: Somehow manages to have the most amazing balance and can get on and off Bahorel or Courf’s paddle boards like it’s nothing but when he gets in the canoe with anybody they somehow always tip it over within like 20 seconds. He is the opposite of Jehan he’ll sleep until like 2 in the afternoon if one of them doesn’t come to wake him up. He’s also usually in charge of getting all the booze together for the trip bc he’s very aware of what everyone likes to drink. He takes turns with Chetta sleeping in the trailer with Joly since not all three of them can fit. When he’s not sleeping in the tent he’s sharing a tent with Grantaire.

Feuilly: Fire guy. Loves the fire. Is always excited for the sun to go down so he can start the campfire. Will not take his eyes off the fire. I mean seriously. They once played never have I ever and when it got to be his turn they timed him to see how long it would take for him to realize it was his turn bc he was too busy staring at the fire to pay attention (it was a solid 4 minutes). Sleeps in a tiny little one person tent that would make anybody else claustrophobic but he LOVES it. He does set up a hammock right next to Bahorel’s. He doesn’t sleep in it but the two of them will take naps together in their hammocks. He also has to dowse his body in SPF 10000000000+ because he’s the whitest person ever, and somehow he still manages to get a sunburn on some part of his body.

Bahorel: He’s the guy thats super picky about the camp spot. “eh i mean this one is cool but it’s a little too close to the other campsite and I don’t wanna be that close to other people thats the point of this trip is to get away from everybody.” “This one WOULD be perfect but it doesn’t have good access to the lake so it’s gonna be hard for those of us that have boats to get down there” “Bahorel the boat ramp is like 1/8 of a kilometer away we can just walk down to that…” “i mean we COULD… but it just kinda sucks” Also Bahorel has this super nice hammock system with like a bug net and a rain tarp, he will not sleep on the ground because he is scared of bugs and also the baby boy likes getting rocked to sleep. He always follows Feuilly around when he’s looking for a place to put his tent and he’ll set up his hammock right next to him. And he WAILS to Feuilly when they get back home because his SKINCARE ROUTINE GOT MESSED UP FEUILLY OHHH MY GODDDD

Grantaire: Not super big on camping but if he’s with his friends he’s having fun. There’s something about being in the woods that makes him quiet… but not in a sad way. He feels really peaceful when he isn’t dealing with a bunch of people in a big city (Even tho he loves the city). He always brings stuff so that he can draw or paint the mountains or his friends on the lake but he usually doesn’t get enough time to really make anything more than a sketch. He’s not scared of water but he avoids going in the lake if it’s not a part of it that’s deeper than his tummy. He won’t get in the boats unless there’s a lot of coaxing (usually by Enj)

Marius: LOVES being in the woods. I mean really loves it. Surprisingly it’s usually Marius that sends out the text to the group chat that’s like “hey is everybody free in a couple weekends? I wanna go camping!” He just really doesn’t like going by himself or going with just one or two people. He wakes up super early as well and usually will sit with Jehan and share coffee waiting for everybody else to wake up. Sometimes the two of them will go on a little walk together. He winds down pretty early in the evening though since he wakes up so early and is usually ready for bed by like 8:45pm. He’s also that guy that wants to eat all the berries on the bushes they walk past and has almost given Combeferre a heart attack like 7 times.  

Eponine: She’s… alright to camp with. She gets kinda grumpy in the mornings because of how cold it is but she warms up (both temperature wise, but also her mood) once she’s eaten and it’s gotten warmer out. She really just likes to lay in one of the communal hammocks and read book after book. She’ll also tag along with Gavroche on a lot of his little adventures. When she’s not with Gavroche or letting Combeferre show her all the little bugs and cool plants he found, she just sunbathes. For HOURS straight. Going camping for her is just a really long fun weekend to get her tan on.

Cosette: She’s so fun to camp with!! She’s like… the best person to camp with. She always does the planning and researches everything there is to do at and near the campsite. She knows all the hiking trails nearby and what areas have service and which ones don’t. She knows which campsites have lake/river access. She also makes the best camp coffee. It’s really the only time she drinks coffee unless it’s like… finals week or she’s got an early flight or something. She also ALWAYS has to tell her dad where they’re going. She shares her location and route with him on the drive there and texts him to let him know she’s about to lose service and texts him the second she has a bar of service. He’s just very protective and she wants to make sure that he knows she’s safe. Plus if anything DOES happen he knows where she’s going and can come save the day.

Musichetta: She sleeps like the entire time she’s camping. She’ll wake up in the morning and move from her tent or the camper and go lay in one of the communal hammocks near the fire ring and doze off with her hot chocolate… which she has spilled a couple times. Once it warms up a little she’s walk down to the lake or river and lay down, get her tan on, and take a nap. One of her favorite things is to go on hikes with Combeferre. He’s one of the only people in the group that can keep up with her. If they go with other people usually by the time they reach the end of the trail the rest of the group is about 2 miles behind them. One of the best parts of camping for her is going home and showering after not showering for like 3 or 4 days.

Gavroche: Spends the entirety of the first day trying to find the perfect tree to put the perfect swing on. He also likes to try to find any big rocks near the campsite and go bouldering and run around on top of them. He still really has that childhood curiosity about everything and no fear. He’ll run off trail trying to find deer or elk. If he doesn’t get back home with a couple scratches or bruises he doesn’t consider it a good camping trip. He also will swim out to Bahorel’s paddle board and Bahorel will grab him out of the water and throw him back in. Gavroche thinks it’s the most fun thing in the world even though he’s growing really fast and it’s taking a little bit more muscle every year for Bahorel to throw him as far as Gav wants him to.

[winter-fox-queen]

Kisses Like Wine 6

Summary:  The Thief gets into trouble, the reader makes a plan.

Warnings:  A little violence, some introspection.

We are drawing close to the end. :D

I’m tired of you.  You’re no better than my family.

He used the USB stick with its code to get into the vault.  Liberated the stone.  Got out of there.  If he was not, indeed, the world’s greatest thief, he would have failed utterly, because his focus was destroyed.

Your words kept echoing in his ears.  He’d had a lot of terrible things happen to him.  He’d been poisoned once and laid at death’s door for three days, just on the edge of death, the pain like the unrelenting fires of hell but he couldn’t let himself fall into a coma.

It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as what you said.  She’s just frustrated, he soothed himself.  It was a very frustrating night and you were not at your best.

He wanted to do something.  He imagined doing something.  Scenario after scenario, and they all ended the same, you saying that you understood what he’d been trying to do.  That you forgave him.

Maybe.  Maybe.  That you loved him.

That thought set him back.  Love was never part of the plan.  His plan was to show you a way out of your cage, but not replace it with another one.  You had to take your freedom, you had to build your own life.

He kept telling himself that he never wanted that life to be with him.

You were right.  He was a liar.  Something had changed.  Maybe it changed the night of the ball.

All this made him careless.  For the first time in his life, the first time in his long and very successful career…he was being tracked.

He got on a plane, headed to the final diamond, a five star hotel overlooking the Rhine.  Half hoping you would be there, doubting you would be.

He never made it out of the airport.

***

The last thing I was interested in was the Heart of the Rhine.  But here I was, working as a maid, looking for a way in.

Unlike the Compass, The Heart was usually in a vault, hidden behind a wine cellar.

“Are you any closer to getting the Star?”  My brother asked me when he called to check in.

“Do you know the Heart of the Rhine is worth twice what the Star is?  Twice.”

Silence.  Then, “Really?”

“And it is incredibly lovely.  I figure…get the Heart, then I can either just bring it home for the family, or trade it for the Star.  Get papa to let you know his preference, will you?”

“We’ve spent so much money getting you this far, we probably should go for the better stone…recoup our losses.”  He *almost* jokes.

“Did you email me what you found out?”

“Yep.  And overnighting your shopping list.  This is…this is it, right?  You’ll be done after this?”

“Miss me?”

Another silence.  “It’s not the same around here, no.  But…I don’t know how much more dad will let you do.”

“I know I’m not his only plan.”

“No.  The other plan is not…I’d avoid our boy, if I were you.”

I felt chills…”What are they going to do?”

He hung up.

I stared at the phone, cursed, then slipped it back in my apron.  The day before I thought I’d seen Lars, a huge piece of work that our head of security sometimes brought in.  I new he was on retainer, and usually worked for us a few times a year.

I changed, took off my wig, and went looking for him, scratching my scalp.

He was not hard to find.  I had to troll him in a bit, walking all over the place, but I knew once he got sight of me, he’d zero in.

“Hey, Lars!”  I handed him one of two cups of coffee I’d gotten.

He nodded at me.

“So, any luck finding the Thief?  Dad told me to connect up with you, compare notes.”

“I’m done with that…someone else has him, and by the time they’re done, there won’t be anything left to bother with.”

I tried to make the spike of panicked fear I felt act like rage.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  They kill him, and we won’t get our property back!”

He shrugged.  “Your father’s not that worried.  He must think you’ve already got it in the bag.”  He took a sip of his coffee.  I wish I’d poisoned it.  “ But, you should know that.”

I channeled every privileged woman I’d ever met, straightened my spline, looked down at him, and said, “Do you like working for my family.”

He started to look uncomfortable.  “Yeah.  But that’s your father’s call.”

“True.  And I think his call will be a definite no when I show him the pictures I took of you screwing my sister on his desk.  You should work for the porn industry…”

“You’re bluffing.”  He growled.

“Am I?”  I took a step towards him, as if I wasn’t scared.  “You will take me to where they are keeping him.  If you have people you can hire to get here fast, do it.  We will go in and retrieve the thief and you…you get to keep your job.”

“He’ll fire me if I get you killed.”

I stepped back, sighed.  “Lars.  Do you really think he’ll care?  He just wants the diamond.  In a year, maybe two, our head of security will retire.  Don’t you want a nice, cozy position that pays well and has lots of benefits?”

He licked his lip.  “I might be able to get a guy.  Maybe two.”

**

The Thief was cursing himself.  He started with French, then in celebration of where he was imprisoned, German.  Spanish, his mother tongue.  Arabic was next, and maybe, after that, Russian…

All the while, he was thinking.  He didn’t have long…the taste of blood in his mouth and the pain in his ribs told him they’d roughed him up while he was out, but not much.  He was duct taped, but they had not searched his person, so did not know about the very sharp blade he kept in his shirt cuff, and he was working, working.

Whatever drug they’d used (Was this karma?) had faded, leaving him clear minded.

Were you safe?  You had to be safe.  Please God, keep you safe.

Maybe this was you.  Maybe the torture had not begun in earnest because they were waiting for you.  And you wouldn’t really hurt him.  No matter how much he deserved it.  He’d beg for your forgiveness then say, punish me, punish me so you know I am telling the truth, not lying to avoid the pain.

He heard voices.  They were speaking Gaelic of all things.  Had he’d displeased anyone from that part of the world?  He didn’t think so, but anything was possible.

He heard someone at the door, so he held his hands together carefully (he was almost free) and let his head hang down.

Someone came close, smacked him gently.  “You must be awake by now…open your eyes.  It’s time to talk…”

He raised his head.  “And what would you like to say?  What’s the weather like outside…it was supposed to be nice, but with a bit of a chill.”

“You have amassed a rather…stunning collection of wealth.  The gentleman I work for thinks it is time you share.  So, you tell us where you keep your valuables, and perhaps we will let you live.”

Their eyes met, and the Thief said, “A wise man would not let me live…”

They could both hear gun shots, on the other side of the door.  “Hold that’s thought,” he said almost amiably as he went outside.

The Thief got up, threw the duct tape on the chair, and caught the door before it could close.  At the doorway, he could swear he heard you yell out to someone…not angry, mad.  In charge.  He smiled and drew his pack of cards out, selected one and threw it on the chair.

He slipped out.  The place was a large warehouse…a good place to take someone, you could do what you wanted and no one would hear, throw the body in a box and ship it.  He was tempted, to go and find you, but…the card would be enough.  The game was afoot.

Thank you to you lovely people for being on my tag list, if you want added or dropped just let me know.  <3

@grogusmum @mishasminion360 @hnt-escape @littlemisspascal @pedro4ever @writteninthestars18 @fromthedeskoftheraven @sharkbait77

@quica-quica-quica @eri16 @the-blind-assassin @ayoungpascallover-readings @songsformonkeys

[echoweaver]

Your thoughts on the Sims 1-4

Guess I’m in the mood to do these. Grabbing a tag from @mosneakers​.

Sims 1: The big thing I remember about this game is that it could take your sim hours to cross from one end of the house to the other. Thus, if the sim got up at the normal one-hour-before-work, they often wouldn’t have time to both pee and eat. I got obsessed with designing and efficient house, with the kitchen right outside the bedroom door, so that my sims could get to work with the best mood. 

Then I let the garden go bad, and it would destroy my sims’ mood on the way to the carpool, and it took me forever to figure out what was going on :-D

Sim 2: I remember being thrilled by how much easier it was for sims to get around their house. The introduction of lifespans intrigued me. However, I hadn’t really figured out what I wanted to DO with this sandbox game yet. Playing Sims gets boring if you don’t have some kind of a goal. I’d never heard of a generational challenge, much less rotational gameplay, and I hadn’t plugged into the fan community yet.

I did dabble in mods -- mostly the mod to drastically increase the chance of a sim being abducted when using the telescope so I could make alien babies. I built a household from two CAS-built sisters who were of different races. One of them married a man, and the other a woman, and then I got frustrated that the lesbian couple couldn’t make babies. They adopted, but I was annoyed by how genetically boring their adopted son was. Then I got obsessed with trying to get one of the lesbians to cheat on her spouse to make a baby without being discovered. Where is artificial insemination when you need it?

Later, I created a new sim who married into the Broke family. I got bored and tried to starve Dustin to death to make a ghost. when I removed the door to his bedroom and his needs got very low, he got down on his knees to beg the Watcher for his life. I felt so guilty that I actually turned off the game and never went back!

Sims 3:  This is where it happened for me. Open world and a town that aged with my active household just better matches the way I imagine playing. I even figured out generational play, at least somewhat, before really plugging into the fan community.

I didn’t realize until reading @mosneakers and @natolesims‘s memes that there was so much hate floating around for Sims 3 art style! I admit that I do dislike the child faces. I thought Sims 2 faces were too long and thin. Sims 3 faces seem to have overcompensated by being just a bit too round. Otherwise, I’m quite sure I don’t know what you guys are talking about. LOL.

I don’t think I’d still be playing if it weren’t for NRaas, though. Sims 3′s open world was pretty ambitious, and their data management was totally not up to the task. I spent years offering tech support on people’s blogs when they started to suffer data corruption in generation 2 or 3. You just can’t play without at least minimal mods to clean up save files. It’s unintuitive that a modded game is more stable than vanilla, but it’s just true. Sad, but true.

Sims 4: I have played this very little, not because I hate it but because I am stubbornly determined to finish my 10-generation legacy. A lot of folks just rebuilt their household in Sims 4 and continued to play. At the time Sims 4 came out, I was playing supernatural-heavy games with custom skintones, so I’d lose almost everything if I ported them over. It also turns out that it’s hard to face going from a heavily-modded, 11-expansion experience to a game with base or just one expansion. I have a lot more sympathy for Sims 2 players who skipped Sims 3 entirely.

I have a hard time facing the color presets and closed world, but the game in its current state really seems to have done great things with gameplay. If/when I get the Samples done, I’ll take a look at making the switch. Of course, by then Sims 5 will likely be out, so maybe I’ll skip....

What is your favorite Expansion pack

Generations and/or Seasons. But it’s really hard to choose.

Small pets or Horses?

I really,  really love Sims 3 horses. Since I’m modding pets, it can probably be guessed that I like the animals in general :).

What is your favorite active career?

Yes.

I have had a ton of fun with almost all active careers. If forced to choose, I might go for firefighter.

What is your favorite Lifetime Wish?

Buh. I really dug the Photography one I guess. I just like doing different ones.

Whims or Wants?

I’m sorry. I have no idea what this question even means (blush).

What is your favorite Occult?

I feel like all the occults in TS3 are kind of underdeveloped. That said, witches are pretty cool.

Cowplants, Bonehilda, or the Social Bunny?

Bonehilda

How do you pick your sims names?

I am absolutely OBSESSED with names. I’m sorry I only got to name one flesh-and-blood child, so I let it all out in naming my simmies. I get into the head of the parent(s) and come up with lists from whatever they would like. My saves are very gameplay-directed, and tend to randomize most traits, so I intentionally don’t build a sim to a name or try to make a sim’s name suit their personality at all. After all, when we name our children, we get no say over who they eventually become :).

Do you create a spouse for a sim, or do you go after a townie?

Townie! My gaming style is heavily gameplay-oriented. I want my sims to choose their partner using wishes and attraction and whatever else the game provides. However, I also am incredibly interested in genetic experimentation, so I do allow myself to change the physical appearance of some sims before making babies with them if they are too bland. I populated my Samples save from scratch, largely using downloaded simalikes of real people. I have NRaas set to use existing sims in the town or in my sim bin, to generate new ones. So basically I do my best to have the most interesting genetics pool I can so I don’t need to edit faces.

Do you prefer to follow storytelling Simblrs, or do your prefer gameplay Simblrs?

I’m not totally sure what this is asking either :-D. Are “storytelling” simblrs the ones that largely use the game as an artistic medium for screenshots using poses and whatnot? My play style is to play the game and build stories from it, so I’m not entirely sure what category I fall into myself.

I suppose it doesn’t matter because I follow both. I’m not terribly drawn to dressup challenges and lookbooks.

What year did you join Tumblr/Simblr?

I have absolutely no friggin idea. I tried to look back in my email archive to track notifications, and that failed. I came back after three years, so it has to be at least for years before I returned....?

[lofitojii]

PART [I] Guardian Angel

*★*――――*★**★*――――*★**★*――――*★*

Summary: You are a new sidekick to the number two hero of Tokyo, Hawks. You team up with another sidekick, Bakugou, in an ongoing investigation on a serial killer. Unexpected interactions happen that flip the whole case around causing new, confusing feelings which alter your relationships in ways you never saw coming. 

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning: Minor Swearing 

A/N: It’s HERE!!! The new series I’ve been working on for the last month is finally planned out and I’m super excited about it! Please let me know what you think, there will be posts made for discussions before the new part is released. 

NOTE: This is not following the current story at all. The League of Villains do not play any part in this at all, only Dabi. 

Guardian Angel Master List

*★*――――*★**★*――――*★**★*――――*★*

The fall air was crisp, every inhaled breath chilling your body from the inside out. The leaves looked as if they were on fire, the deep crimson, the burnt orange, lighting up the grey world they resided in. This was your favorite time of year, when you could visibly see the seasons change. Despite the fact the darkest part of the year was right around the corner, you were looking forward to all of it. This year was going to be different, you could feel it ridden within you.

It was your first day at your new job, completely unaware and new to the area. You had moved in the weekend prior, receiving the job through a simple phone call interview. You had no idea who or what your new boss looked like. All you knew is that you were hand picked from a group of qualifying sidekicks to the number 2 hero, Hawks. Apparently he is a very busy man, and the only thing you knew about him was that his quirk was similar to yours. Except he can’t put his wings away. 

How can you not know who the number 2 hero is? Well, coming from a rather small town where you worked 7 days a week kind of took up most of your free time, and when you did get a moment to yourself, you were either reading or spending time with the locals. You didn’t care much for TV or the news or social media. You enjoyed quality time and company, something most people didn’t really understand. 

Your quirk was known as the ‘Angel Quirk’ meaning you had white wings that grew in size under your control, whenever you pleased. You also had a healing factor to your quirk, using your feathers as a type of medicine as well. You were a Pro Hero’s sidekick back in your home town but received an email one morning that read: 

Dear Y/N,

After doing intense research and speaking to your most recent employer and university teachers, you have been chosen to accompany Japan’s number 2 hero, Hawks, as his personal sidekick with the goal of becoming one of Japan’s very own perosnal Pro Heroes. According to your employer, he has said he feels you have greater potential that you can’t utilize in your small town. Please give us a call or email us back. Thank you!

-Hawks Agency

You had no idea your previous employer had reached out until you received that letter. You didn’t mind doing small hero work here and there in your small town but when your boss stressed to you that you could be and do more, you decided to reach out. You didn’t know what you were expecting but you had received the job within the first 10 minutes of your interviewl. 

So that’s where you are now, downtown Tokyo, trying your best to understand how the train systems worked. Yeah, you could’ve just flown there but you didn’t want to make a scene before debuting with your new boss. It was just something you had decided, thinking that maybe an article would be released about a new hero coming to town rather than being seen with Hawks himself first. You didn’t want to come off as rude or arrogant, even though you knew you were probably overthinking the situation. 

You just wanted to make a good impression, regardless of what your old boss had said about you. They already have this idea of you, and you wanted to live up to that idea. Your boss did speak highly of you, you didn’t want to let anyone down, mainly yourself. 

“Damn, this city is huge,” you cursed out loud, looking up from the city map you had picked up at the subway stop before you hopped on. “So if that’s the coffee shop, then I still have about a good mile or two before I get to the agency building. Maybe I should use my wings to get the- OOF!” you were hit in the back, causing you to choke on your words and stumble over onto the cement. 

“Sorry!” You looked up to see a man, his red wings casting a long shadow over you. “Didn’t see ya there! Sometimes I’m too fast for my own damn good.” He reached his hand out, letting you tightly grip it as he helped you up. 

“You’re good, I was the one standing there like a mindless idiot,” you joked, reaching down to pick up the things you had dropped due to your collision. When you stood up, you noticed that he was already gone. Wow, so much for being polite. He said sorry but what does that mean when he just flies off without saying anything else? Whatever, you had to get to work so you just decided to brush it off. 

You expanded your white wings, trying your best to fly higher than the city clouds in order to keep people from seeing you. You thought to yourself that maybe this was the best route to work, clear yet cold skys. Not to mention you would cut your full trip in half. You landed in front of the office building, retracting your wings back to its original, small size before entering the building. You approached the girl that was sitting behind a desk, tapping away at her keyboard. You cleared your throat before interrupting. “Hi, I’m the new sidekick Y/N. Just wondering where I need to go?” You asked the front receptionist you guided you towards the elevators. 

“It’s the top floor,” she smiled. “Good luck, Miss Y/N.” You let out a sigh of relief as you stood in the elevator alone. Your day had just barely started and yet you could feel yourself already growing tired of everything. Your temper was rather short today, that man setting something off in you when he left without saying anything. Thank god you didn’t have to worry about him anymore. Tokyo was a rather large city, what are the chances of running into him a second time? You tried your best to shake off the incident that took place this morning, not wanting it to ruin your full day ahead of you. 

You walked up to the giant wooden doors, knocking twice before opening them. You were greeted with a huge open window, a single desk sitting in the middle of the room with a beautiful view behind it. There were bookshelves lined with literature you had read or had planned to read. “Similar tastes,” you whispered as you traced along the backbone of the books. The room was empty, leaving you alone to examine the things you found interesting to you. 

“You like what you see?” Wait a second… That voice... “You must be the new sidekick. How’s it going? I’m Hawks.” You turned around and were faced with the man that had knocked you over earlier. For some reason, dread took over, your actions visible to the man standing in front of you. “Why the long face?” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” you scoffed, the man giving you a blank look. “You literally knocked me off my feet earlier? I dropped everything?” He was still giving you that stupid blank look. “You’re joking…” 

“OH! I remember now. Yeah sorry about that,” he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I was in a hurry.” Wow...

“Obviously.” You rolled your eyes at his comment, unimpressed with the lack of remorse that came through his tone. You felt as if this relationship would be decided here, right now, just based on the way you were feeling as he stood there, a stupid grin plastard on his face. You let out a deep sigh, trying to regulate your breathing so you wouldn’t lash out on your new boss who was standing inches away from you. “I guess I’ll introduce myself since we’ll be working together. My name is Y/N L/N, I’m from a small town about 4 hours out of Tokyo. My quirk is known as the ‘Angel Quirk’ meaning I can do anything you can but better.” 

“Woah, woah,” he stopped you, waving his hands in the air. “That’s a pretty bold statement, newby. What do you mean ‘better’?” 

“I mean I can hide my wings if I want to, and also can expand them when I choose. They regenerate within the hour, I can use them to heal both internal and external wounds depending on how severe the injury is. I can also use them as weapons, hardening them as I please.” 

“Okay but can you use them to listen to things? Do you have the ability to use them as an extension of you? As in, can you use them to listen or to track?” He was grilling you with questions, almost as if you struck a nerve with him. It was quite amusing to see him all flustered like this.

“I can use them to track things within a certain radius, the further away from the feather, the harder it is for me to make things out.” He furrowed his brows, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. 

“Okay yeah, your quirk is better in some parts but that doesn’t make you better than me.” 

“I never said I was better than you, I only said my quirk was better. You’re the number 2 hero for a reason, I have no doubt in your skill at all.” He really got his feelings hurt that bad by your comment? Talk about a fragile ego. 

He let out a sigh, sounding a little grumpy in his words as he went through the paperwork with you. “Oh and take this,” He handed you a bag, his cheeks flushed red. “I don’t know what it looks like but the design team came up with it since we do have similar quirks.” 

“A new costume?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at the fabric with the paper bag. It was a body suit, like an actual teddy style body suit, a pair of sheer tights, and some knee high boots. There was also a pair of yellow goggles, matching the ones Hawks were wearing. “What if people think we’re dating?” You didn’t really think about it much until Hawks gave you your new costume that was almost identical in color to his. It was balck and gold, just like his shirt, the cropped jacket being a deeper shade of brown, just like his jacket. 

“And? So what if they do? I wouldn’t mind faking it,” he smirked, winking directly at you. He began to laugh as you reached your hand to hide your crimson cheeks. They were warm, you knew his comment made you blush, and so did he.

“Shut the hell up,” you responded, biting your lip. “I’m going to request a new jacket at least. I’m sorry but this color is hideous with the black.” 

“You really think so?” he asked, looking at his own jacket. “Well in that case, I’ll ask for them to give us black ones.” 

“White,” you stopped him. “I want a white one.” 

“White it is, m’lady,” he bowed, getting up from his seat. He leaned over his desk, transitioning from his bowed state, coming face to face with you. He was so close you could smell the lingering fragrance of mint coming from his breath. “I’m excited to work with you.” You quickly got up, bowing in response all in one quick motion, knocking your head with his. It was loud, painful, and embarrassing all within the 30 seconds that it took place. “Ow ow ow ow ow,” he rubbed his forehead, exposing the red bump that was getting ready to form. 

You were quick to pluck two white feathers from the right side of your back, leaning over the desk and pressing it to his forehead. “Hold still,” you struggled to get out as Hawks winced in pain. You let out a deep breath, focusing on the feather in your hand. It was quick to dissolve, leaving Hawks in awe with what had just happened. He sat back down, watching you apply the same treatment to yourself. 

“Wow,” he breathed, still in shock from what just took place. “Your quirk really is cool.” 

“The only downside to my healing is that it’s only possible with the right side of my wings. The left side doesn’t have the same ability,” you admitted while sitting back down, your wings returning to their smaller size so you were able to sit more comfortably. Hawks just sat there, gobsmacked with the events that just occurred. “To be honest, we gotta get this whole bumping into each other thing under control.” 

“You’re telling me,” he whispered, leaning back in his own seat. He finally snapped back into reality after being lost within himself. “Go change into your new costume and I’ll put the order in for the white coat. You’re going on patrol today with one of my other sidekicks. He’s newer to the team so it will be good for you two to get comfortable with each other. I will warn you though, he’s a bit of a hot head. Short temper, super egotistical. Great guy though, you’ll love him.” 

“He sounds wonderful,” you noted sarcastically. You were soon interrupted by the sound of the door opening, being greeted with a blonde haired man with quite the aggressive scowl. 

“What the hell did you say, you damn bird?” You turned your head, taking notice to his rather large grenade equipment covering his forearms. Those have to be super heavy, the look like they weigh more than the man himself. 

“There you are! Bakugou, I’d like you to meet your new partner, Y/N! You guys are going to be working together from here on out. You’re still my sidekicks, so we’re still a team here but when it comes to the more lowkey stuff, like investigations and patrolling, you guys will be working together.” Did he really just say ‘lowkey’? How old is this guy? He’s got to be older than you, having started his own agency, right? 

“Yeah, whatever,” Bakugou growled. Hawks wasn’t kidding when he said this guy was a hot head, the vibe he was giving off really intimidated you. But then again, you weren’t one to take shit, not even from some punk coworker with a short temper. “I’m leaving in 10. Better hurry you noob.” 

“Noob?” You questioned, grabbing your things and following Bakugou out the room. You stopped before you reached the door, turning around and bowing towards Hawks. “Thank you!” 

“Good luck, kid!” He waved back, his smile sweet and reassuring. You had experienced something rather unpleasant that morning with Hawks, only to find out he was your new boss. He seemed to be quite the air head, or at least spacey in some aspect. He was interesting to you, and for some reason you wanted to know more about him. The fact he had asked for you specifically out of all the other applicants was even more interesting to you. Did he choose you for another reason? Was it because you had a similar quirk to his? As time goes on, you can only hope that you’ll uncover these hidden secrets you were so focused on. He didn’t need to tell you he was hiding anything, you could just feel something in his aura. 

You followed Bakugou who led you to the women's locker room, telling you he would wait outside the door for you to be finished. He actually told you to ‘hurry the fuck up’ but you just rolled your eyes at his demand. You thought to yourself that if anyone else would have been paired up with this guy, you were sure they would resign due to his attitude. You weren’t one to give up, though. You were here for a reason, having a set goal that wasn’t about to be ruined due to some smart asses comments. Not to mention, the children in the foster home you grew up in were mean as hell. 

When you put on the outfit, you were flustered by how revealing it was. You did mention that you needed flexibility in your costume but you didn’t think it was going to be some kind of lingerie set. Hopefully the coat you requested is available soon, thinking that maybe it would help cover up some of the more revealing parts. 

You exited the locker room, only things on you being your Hero License and your outfit. Bakugou handed you an ear piece, letting you know it’s used for the both of you, two other side kicks and Hawks himself. “So what exactly are we doing today?” You asked, exiting the building with Bakugou by your side. 

“We’ve been asked to investigate the west side of town. Rumor has it that some dick head guy has been spotted frequently in the area who has been linked to a chain of murdered victims. All the bodies have similar burn marks, as if it’s this guys sick way of marking his work. Our job is to try and see if we can narrow down his exact location.” You had read over the file prior to moving to the city, being asked by the agency so that way you weren’t too behind on what was going on. 

Description: Black hair, scars covering majority of his body, black coat, black shoes, distressed jeans. Last known location: West Tokyo. Number of bodies linked to crime: 12. 

“Well then,” you started, letting your wings grow to their full capability. You reached your hand out towards Bakugou, signaling for him to grab on. 

“What the hell? What are you doing? I don’t need your fucking help.” 

“I get that but if you let me carry you, we could cut our trip time in half and with it being fall, almost winter, it’s going to get dark soon. I have no doubt that you can get there by yourself but if we want to play it smart and more efficient,” you sang, reaching your hand out again for him to take, letting your actions finish your statment. He wasn’t happy about the idea but he knew you were right, making it obvious by his aggressive huff. 

You wrapped Bakugou up in your arms, taking off the second you knew you had a secure grip on him. With flying to the west side of town, it really did cut the travel time in half, leaving you an extra hour or so to investigate, much longer than what the estimated time stated. “Land there!” Bakugou yelled, pointing at the roof of a mini mart that was placed in between two rather tall buildings. You released your grip on him, his immediate reaction being annoyed and bothered by the ‘wind’ and you ‘flying too damn fast’. You just ignored his remarks, letting him take the lead on the investigation so he would stop complaining. 

“How long have you worked for Hawks?” You asked, taking a seat next to Bakugou. He lowered his glasses that matched both yours and Hawks’, using them to enhance his sight towards the ground below. 

“Why do you care?” He growled, avoiding any sort of eye contact with you. 

“Well I don’t but if we’re going to be working together, I think it’s important that we have a bearable relationship, don’t you agree?” 

“No I don’t. I don’t care who you are or where you come from. We’re co workers, that’s it.” You didn’t expect Bakugou’s words to hurt as much as they did. You barely met the guy and he’s already made his decision on how the relationship was going to be. A part of you wanted to just let it go, to just accept the fact that he didn’t care for personal relationships, but the other part, the part of you that always got you into trouble, wanted to know and be more with him. 

“Well I care,” you finally blurted out, causing Bakugou to finally look over at you. “I’m not saying that we have to be friends but if we want to be a strong team, we have to get to know each other on a more personal level. I can see you’re very strong and I also know that we could be really good together. So ignore me all you want but I’m not going to stop asking.” He looked puzzled, as if no one had ever bothered to speak to him like this. It was as if he was thrown into foreign territory and had to figure out how to navigate to the sudden outburst. 

“3 months,” he answered, immitadly turning away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at the small achievement you had accomplished. It wasn’t something drastic or something to celebrate, but you took it as a win regardless.  

After sitting on the roof for a good half hour, you had decided to take street view, letting Bakugou keep the high ground. You were told that the suspect wore a black coat, had dark features, but the main identifier being his scars. He wore the black coat to hide his arms and body and wore a face mask to hide the scars that are suspected to be on his face. 

After mindlessly walking for what felt like forever, Bakugou finally came through the ear piece. “Angel, there’s a man fitting our description on the other side of the street, walking towards your direction.” You were quick to react, trying to spot any signs of a man in a dark coat. You thought you were going to lose him in the crowd, having to make your way through groups of people walking in your opposite direction. 

“Bakugou, I don’t-” You were suddenly cut off, being pushed back by the force of colliding with another person. You lost your balance, falling straight onto the concrete sidewalk below you. “Ouch…” You winced in pain, the collision of your bum hitting the hard concrete rattling you a bit. You looked up to see what it was that you had bumped into, Bakugou screaming in your ear before you could put the pieces together. 

“THAT’S HIM!” You made eye contact, complete shock written across your facial features as you stared directly at the man you had been looking for. 

“Here,” he reached his hand out, offering to help you up from your fall. “Sorry about that. It’s easy to get caught up in these crowds.” You were hesitant to take his hand but did it anyways, knowing that you had to diminish any sort of suspicion. His hand was rough to the touch, as if it was scared more so than dry skin. You noticed his stitches that held his scars together, slightly grazing over them as you released. “Oh uhh.. I got these cause my quirk is too strong for me to really handle.” The man seemed to be around your age, his whole appearance matching the description you were given. 

What do I do? 

“Oh I wasn’t meaning to stare,” you hesitantly assured him, trying to awkwardly laugh off the situation. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he finally changed the subject, the new topic being just as stressful as the last. 

“Oh yeah I’m new to town! Just doing an internship so I’m still kind of new to all of this. I’m just out patrolling the area, making sure nothing bad happens. Ya know, the normal hero stuff.” You awkwardly scratched the back of your head, avoiding eye contact as best as you could. In all honesty, you wanted to cut this conversation short and let Bakugou track him to wherever he was planning on going, but your mind had gone blank. You were unable to think of an out so instead, you had to let the conversation carry on until you found an opening. 

“Well I bet people will feel better having such a pretty hero like you around to keep them safe.” Woah woah woah… Did he really just call you pretty? And are you actually blushing right now at his comment?? Get it together Y/N! 

“Eh- haha. I mean I’m just doing my job, just like any other hero.” Please leave. Please go away. Please give me an opening to get out of here.

“I guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of you then?” His smile was everything but welcoming. You could see that this man wasn’t someone who found heroes pleasant to begin with. The uneasy feeling you had when you made eye contact the first time started to grow, causing you to internally panic. “Cute wings. Reminds me of another Pro Hero I see flying around here sometimes.”

“Uh… Who?” You asked, trying your best to play dumb. He furrowed his brows, your response coming off more suspicious than before. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m new here and I don’t even know who I work for. I was just sent here as soon as I got there so I haven’t really met anyone.” 

“Huh. Well I’m sure you’ll meet him soon. Especially if you have wings like that,” he said, pointing to your enlarged wings. “He’s a pretty big fan of people who have similar quirks to his.” 

“I’ll definitely have to keep an eye out then. Sounds like we’d get along.” 

“The names Dabi, by the way. And you are?” Did he really just tell you his name? Was the whole ‘play dumb’ act really working? Could this be some kind of message that he wants to send to Hawks since he was the one who mentioned him? 

“You can call me Angel,” you responded, knowing it was better to offer your hero name rather than your real one. You chose the hero name ‘Angel’ because it could be taken as either a hero name or even a birth given name. 

“Angel,” he repeated, barely above a whisper. “Fitting.” You didn’t respond this time, wanting to let the conversation end there which Dabi caught onto. “Well I’ll let you get back to work Angel. I hope I see you again.” And with that, he was gone, disappearing from your view into the crowd of people.

You were quick to make your way around the block so that way you could communicate with Bakugou without having to worry about Dabi overhearing anything if he had happened to still be in ear shot distance. “Angel what happened!? Did you get anything?” 

“I’ll come find you! Just keep tracking him! I’m on my way!” you told Bakugou before lifting off above the city. You were quick to spot Bakugou who was jumping from rooftop to rooftop, keeping a steady pace and decent distance between him and the suspect. Once Bakugou stopped, you took that as a sign to land on the closest building and follow Bakugou’s actions so that way you could keep a low profile since the suspect now knew who you were. You mentally kicked yourself in the butt, knowing that you should’ve just left after he helped you up. 

“What did he say?” Bakugou barked, his vision focused on the cluster of buildings in front of him. 

“Well I got his name.” 

“And?” He looked over at you, his expression completely unreadable. Were you going to get in trouble for making contact? And on the first day too? 

“Dabi.” Bakugou’s face went white, his expression telling you that maybe they knew more about the suspect than they were telling you. “Bakugou, who’s Dabi?” 

“I pinpointed the location. Let’s get back to the agency and report to Hawks what we found.” 

“I’m not taking us anywhere until you tell me who this Dabi guy is!” 

“Suit yourself you dumb bird.” He was quick to blast off, making his way back in the direction of the agency. You were in shock by his sudden outburst, creating quite the distance between you two. What is going on? You were so confused, only being left more in the dark as Bakugou ignored your multiple questions. 

Snap out of it Y/N! Follow him! 

“What- Bakugou!!”

[sazafraz]

Solace

Requested by: @solari-writes-things

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: Viktor Vector x OC: Talia Song

Prompt: From Dialogues with Emotional Connotation; “Pain is not an easy thing to ignore/There are an endless number of things I wish to forget.”

Warning: Possible Spoilers

Requests: OPEN

HERE WE GOOOOOO, ALL ABOARD THE PAIN TRAIN CHOO-CHOO!

Victor chuckled as he sat in front of his old friend. Ripperdocs usually had a large network where each one knew the other. It was beneficial, when one needed help or materials, it only made sense to help each other if they needed it and were reliable enough. Not to mention, Talia Song was a complete legend.

One of the most famous ripperdocs, she was aggressive in her work. She single-handedly fought against Arasaka to steal their cyberware. High quality gear led to anyone and everyone wanting her to upgrade their chrome, sometimes at a high price, sometimes at a lower price for less fortunate individuals. Her power, skill, and charity for deserving people led to the name Xuanwu becoming a Night City staple.

“You never cease to put a smile on my face, Talia.” Viktor smirked and relaxed in his seat. The room was dim, but he could see her face clear as day, smiling back at him.

“I’d be real worried if I couldn’t Vik.” Talia chuckled. They had met a long while ago, when V had needed both their services for a job they were going to embark on. One thing led to another, and Viktor got to see firsthand how Talia happily bashed into Maelstrom heads with her efficacious hammer. There was something to her fervor that didn’t exist in Viktor, that interested him.

She was fiery, determined, headstrong, and rather powerful. She was also very gladly open to her attraction in the older, more easygoing man. Don’t get him wrong, Viktor has a very piquant side to him, but it was usually reserved to those who sent emails saying he was dead. Sure he was, that’s why his cabinets were filled with countless Undisputed Champion trophies. Try him, motherfuckers.

That first encounter led to more relaxed hangouts, where Viktor got to know the person behind the frenzy. Avenging a wronged father, caring for a sweet (and lazy as all fuck) viper, and healing from a scarring cyberpsycho encounter helped him connect with her on a more intimate level. It was often they’d sit on her couch, eat shitty takeout and watch old flicks while they exposed the more reinforced aspects of their being.

Today wasn’t much different. He held a sad smile on his visage, listening to her recount to her latest escapade. She had stolen back supplies from a nearby vendor who was begging his neighbors for help. “Talia Song, a charitable contributor of Night City.” Viktor chuckled.

“Hey man, I know you do nice favors for the needy. Guess we can start a volunteer service.” She snickered and leaned back in her seat. “Nah...I do it cuz I want to. After all these years, people suffering just makes my blood boil. Innocent people, too.”

Viktor nodded and twiddled with his thumbs, taking her features in. They were ones he loved feeling under his calloused hands. “Well...pain’s not an easy thing to ignore. Hurts, seeing so many people fucked over by the city. Not like any of the rest of the country is better...” he shook his head, scratching the back of his head. He subconsciously mused over his bald spot.

He let out a shaky breath, and gulped, putting his hand back down. “Sorry it’s uh...just been a while since we talked, yknow?” He watched her lean forward to extend her hand, but he adjusted herself, clearing his throat. She watched her slowly sit back to where she was.

“Yeah, it has been. What’s up with that?” She chuckled a bit, to try and lighten the mood.

“I’ve been real busy.” He nodded. V comin’ in and out, Misty needing my help, lots of patients...yknow, just a big surge.” He offered a smile, noting how she gently fiddled with her hands.

They were the softest hands imaginable. Her entire body was soft. He thought back on how he loved placing gentle kisses on the crook of her neck, right below her ear, on her navel, and more...as he slid down to give her the most pleasure he could. Then, when he’d be buried deep within, all he could think about is how to be closer. Closer to her body, her mind, her soul. Everything about her melded perfectly against him, and every time he’d think back to it, he’d lose himself in the memories. It almost brought him momentary peace.

“Yeah, it kinda feels like you’re not telling me everything. Look at you, you’re like a sitting brick, all stressed. What’s going on?” Talia sounded more concerned now. Her voice was gentler, her eyes understanding with worry.

Viktor took a moment to look at her face again. It took everything in his power to fight back tears. “So...much has happened, Talia. A whole bunch of hurt...there’s an endless number of things I wish I could forget from the past few weeks. One in...one in particular.” He nodded.

Talia leaned forward. She was incredibly fond of Viktor. loved him, even. The way he would hold her, kiss her, love her. His eyes were always soft and gentle, his actions tender and considerate. If she had to choose anyone in Night City to spend the rest of her life with, it would be Viktor. To hear him on the verge of breaking down hurt her. “Like...like what?”

Taking a deep breath, Viktor took off his glasses and looked straight at her, his eyes watering. “We lost someone...I lost someone...important.” He nodded slowly. “And, I’ve lost a ton of people in my day but...I don’t know if I can get through this particular loss.” He cleared his throat, trying not to let his voice break. He saw a message from V pop up in his reticle.

“Holy shit Vik...who?” Talia was no stranger to loss. Her mother, her father, countless friends...nearly even lost Jackie and V. “Viktor, who fucking died?” She watched him get up.

We gotta go, the message read. On my way, was Viktor’s reply. He sniffed and quickly placed his glasses back on. “I’ll see you around, Talia.”

“Vik, hold on...Vik!” She got up herself and tried going for him, but the moment she reached the glass window separating the two, she phased back. “Vik?” He turned around with his kind, but saddened smile. “Love you Talia.” As he walked out, he listened to her questioning voice fade away. Only when he got in V’s car, slamming the door shut, did he let out a shaky breath. He stared at his shuddering hands, droplets of tears on them. While V pulled away, Viktor took one last look at the large building, black and tall in its mourning.

Never again would Viktor visit Mikoshi.

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