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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

could you do some angsty smut please??

oh hell yeah we can. this is going to be 70srockstar!harry with roadie!y/n eekkkk! okay have fun;

Being the girlfriend of the most famous, golden boy rockstar was the craziest rollercoaster you’d ever ride.

For the past 6 months you’ve been touring with the one and only Harry Styles, living your life between helping on tour, drinking endless amounts of wine and smoking a hell of a lot of weed. The job had come past you at the perfect moment. Your dad happened to be best friends with the tour manager, Jeff Azoff, who’d spoken of their being a job opening for a roadie. You were employed to help set up the musical equipment and test out the instruments before the act went on at night, falling in love for the man you roadied for was just an add on. A beautiful bonus.

It was a lot more pressure being Harry’s girlfriend than people thought though. There was so much pressure to act a certain way and present yourself another way. Harry was so idolised and craved by millions and it put pressure on you to be a certain person for him. You loved him so much and you were so scared that he might one day realise that there was so much better than you - at least in your eyes. Someone extroverted. Someone musically talented. Someone who wasn’t a virgin.

Harry had never pressured you into anything sexual unless you were ready. Of course he was notorious for being an above star rating, when it came fo sex - thanks to all the articles published by the many men and women, sometimes both together, he had slept with. The sex reputation went hand-in-hand with his rock-n-roll aesthetic, so that part of him would never change. You’d only been with Harry for 4 of those 6 months, managing to fall for him very quickly, so you wondered just how he was coping without having had sex for that long. He usually had a different person each night to take backstage after his concert to play with how he wanted, hence how he built his reputation, but since you there had been no one.

Sex was such a big thing for Harry though, so you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Currently, you were sat on his bed on the tour bus reading an article that had been published about your boyfriend last week. Your heart strings tugged as you read one section of the interview.

Interviewer: The new album, tell me about it.

Harry: It’s coming on slowly yeah. Just want this one to be perfect so, taking my time.

Interviewer: What would you say your biggest inspiration is for writing?

Harry: Changed on every project, to be honest man. Sometimes it’s about past relationships. Sometimes it’s about issues i’m going through. A lot of the time it’s about sex!

Interviewer: Yeah, dude, I have noticed that like every other song is about sex. Is that something you’re quite open about?

Harry: I think sex can be either something so beautiful or so passionate. Don’t believe in sad sex! But, um, yeah i’m always really honest lyrically when it comes to the songs about sex and I hope others see it as that too.

Interviewer: No it definitely does! Thanks Harry for your time and, um, keep on having sex so that third album breaks even more records!

Harry: Will do man!

It was easy to understand why you were upset. Harry’s biggest inspiration wasn’t possible for this album, because you were too nervous to let him have you. All of you. You felt a burden, as if you were holding him back from living his life and creating something so amazing. His past two albums had been such hits for songs such as ‘She’ and ‘Only Angel’, which were inspired by the intimate times with past lovers. There would only be sad songs if he wrote an album without any spice.

That’s why as soon as Harry came back on the bus, dressed in shorts and a shirt that was unbuttoned to see his toned chest, you jumped him and kissed him like your life depended on him. He was taken back by surprise, but welcomed your lips nevertheless.

Pulling back he mumbled some words against your lips, “Well this is a nice welcome back gift.” He chuckled at the eagerness of your lips and let his hands roam over your body - from your neck to your waist and over your ass. This man knew what he was doing.

“Harry?” You whispered, stopping your kiss and looking at his beautiful swollen red lips. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah baby?” He kept himself close to you and you could feel the stiffie that he’d developed pressing against your front.

“Can we… I’m.. If you…”

“What baby? Can tell me anything, y’know that.”

“Wanna have sex with you.” You told him the most simple virgin way ever, your face heating up when you saw him smirking down at you. You’d screwed yourself over here and were getting all shy and embarrassed about it.

“Hey, no. Don’t hide from me,” He drew your face back to his and kept his eyes on yours to provide you some familiar comfort, “you sure?”

“Mhm, yes.” You nodded affirmatively.

“It might hurt a little, okay? First time means that your cute little pussy is going to be really tight. Don’t even know whether you’ll be able to take me.” He taunted you, cupping his hands to your cheeks and brushing his thumbs carefully over your skin to ease your tension.

“I w-will.” You moused out, wanting to be this person for him.

“‘Course you can. You’re my best girl and I know you’ll fit perfectly for me, yeah?” He rhetorically asked pushing you back to the bed and letting you flop there. You watched him as he discarded his clothes, following his lead, until you were both naked in front of each other. You’d been this far before, but this time it felt different. It felt more lustful and exposed and nerve-wracking.

Harry bent down and started to kiss you from your belly upwards, leaving kisses everywhere until he reached your jaw where he bit more than he kisses. He loved seeing his marks being left behind on your skin, proving to everyone that you were his and his alone. His hands found comfort ins kneading and squeezing your breasts like dough, loving the way they were so soft and yet so hard beneath his warm hands. As he found your lips and divulged in your sweet tastes, you slunk your hand down and grabbed ahold of his cock, pumping him a few times to get him primed. You felt the trickles of pre-cum drip from his tip and it only excited you even more.

Taking your lead, Harry pushed one of his hands in between your bodies and started playing with your wet cunt, paying extra attention to your needy clit. He knew you loved it when his fingers got rough, so that’s exactly how he played. His tongue was battling against yours, whilst you both stimulated pleasure to one another. The wet and beautiful sounds filled the room, heightening your arousal - Harry could feel it too, his fingers becoming wetter with every circle and pump of his fingers.

“You ready, baby?” He asked carefully, plucking his lips away from yours with a wet sounding smack. You already looked fucked out and he had barely done anything to you yet.

“Y-yes.” You stumbled, so excited yet so nervous. You were finally going to give Harry what he had been missing for so long and you were also going to let yourself go, and divulge in something new and potentially life-changing.

He leant back and rubbed his own cock for a few strokes, before lining the tip of it with your opening. He teased your entrance, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He smiled down at you and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ without any sounds leaving his lips, before you did the same. The head of his cock started to push in, but you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Shit fuck, y’so tight baby. Need you to relax for me, okay?” He asked, pulling away so he could watch your body relax. You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe, reminding yourself that the best way to relax is not to think about the problem itself but oh how you’d feel when the problem’s fixed. You smiled and once Harry could see your shoulders un-tense, he, once again, pushed his cock into your opening. He hissed at the contact, obviously finding it so pleasurable even if it was only minimal contact, but you, you felt so much pain and soreness from absolutely nothing.

You couldn’t do this.

“It should just…” Harry tried a different angle, but your smile had disappeared and your whole range of emotions had resumed to flat and disappointed in yourself. “Maybe if I just..” Harry tried to hold your legs a little wider and guide his cock more firmly into your opening, but each time he couldn’t push past a certain point without your body rejecting him or your facial expressions telling him he should stop.

“St-stop Harry please.” You cried, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you let the tears flow freely. “Please stop.”

“O-okay. Just gonna…” And he slid out as much as he’d managed to get in, which was probably less than an inch. It hurt when he pulled away and your cunt felt like it was on fire. It stung and it didn’t feel right. You felt like a failure and an embarrassment.

You cried into your arms, letting harsh sobs take over your body. You chest felt tight and your eyes stung worse than your cunt did. God, you couldn’t even do one thing for him. You were the reason why he was having a hard time writing at the moment. You were the reason people would be disappointed to hear no sex inspired songs on the album. He might even have to use past experiences as inspiration, which made your heart curl with jealousy. You didn’t feel like you were enough for him, like you would ever be enough for him.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” You sat up from the bed, not wanting to look at him and his disappointed expression as he stay knelt on the bed - cock looking painfully hard still. You scrambled for your t-shirt and your joggers and then walked out of the room, across the bus’ narrow corridor, and into the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in then mirror and were disappointed at what, or who, you saw. Looking back at you was the person who couldn’t even have sex. You couldn’t give Harry what he deserved. You were a failure and it was stamped all over your body. You cried as you looked at yourself, until you couldn’t and you just slid down the wall and onto the floor. You wished for the Earth to just swallow you whole. You couldn’t stand being here when you were clearly broken and useless.

Harry would surely leave you for this. Why would he want to stay with someone who couldn’t even get their boyfriends dick in their pussy? Couldn’t give each other that pleasure? Harry had so many people in the past and surely with you gone he’d have so many people in the future. It would be selfish of you to stay. Harry had needs you completely appreciated that, but it would be just so difficult to let him go when he means so much to you.

There was a quiet knock at the door, which broke you from your cries and self-deprecating. “Y/N? Baby honey? Can I come in, please?”

“S-sorry. Yes of c-course.” You stood up quickly, thinking that he was wanting to be let in to go to the toilet or to have a cold shower go get rid of the hard-on that you’d put there. Too bad you couldn’t have taken it away.

You unlocked the door and shuffled past him, only for him to stop you. He shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you both infinitely pressed together in the pathway on the bus. He had you pressed you up against the side of the wall and kept his arms at either side of you.

“Sweets—”

“Harry, please don’t say anything. I-I know what you’re thinking and—”

“Yeah? And what am I thinking?” He asked, not moving away from you. You held your cries the best you could and took a deep breathe to continue.

“I’m a disappointment. I-I i’m not good enough. I’m broken.” You choked out, knocking your head back against the wall from frustration.

“Stop it.” Harry ordered firmly, gripping your cheeks in his hands and forcing you to look at him. The look in his eyes was so hard to read, but he looked desperate and worried and hurt. You hated to think that you were the cause of any of those emotions. “Just stop.” Harry’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears too and you brought your own hand up to catch a few of them before they could fall.

“Don’t cry, please.” You begged, keeping your hand pressed to his cheek which he absolutely adored. He loved the feeling of your skin against his. He never wanted to not have it.

“Then don’t say things that hurt me, okay? Hearing you say those things about yourself absolutely breaks m’heart flower. Just because you were a bit too tight to take me today does not mean that you’re a disappointment or you’re a failure or that you’re not good enough. It hurts to think that you’d ever think I would think that, because - fuck -,” Harry pressed his forehead tight against yours and fanned his lips lips over yours. His closeness was everything. “I love you so much it scares me. My feelings for you are so strong and so real. I want your forever and something as trivial as sex is never going to make me want otherwise. Do you get that?”

“B-but the album?” You asked.

“What about the album?”

“I-in the recent magazine interview you said that sex is your biggest i-inspiration. I can’t be that for you.”

“Is that what this is all about? Because you think that my album isn’t coming together because i’m not having sex? Did you miss the part where I said I wanted this one to be perfect and I was taking m’time with it?”

“No.”

“Well I did say that, because it’s for you baby. The whole thing is going to be for you. Every melody. Every lyric. Every song. Just and all for you.” Both of you were silently crying now, absorbed in each others love and adoration for one another.

“I-I didn’t know.”

“Now you do. This album isn’t really for the charts or the awards. It’s for you, m’heart. I love you for a lot more than your body and its’ pleasures.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking all his words in and realising how irrationally you’d acted out afterwards.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For even thinking that you’d be so shallow and cold-hearted.”

“You didn’t think that though, baby. I know you and so I know you didn’t. Your thoughts were based around your own insecurities, not to do with your small-thinking over me.” He explained to you, making you nod and kick your lips.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Well then we don’t deserve each other.”

“But i’ll keep you forever if you’d let me.”

“Looks like we’re together forever then, baby honey.”

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fandomscombine · 4 years

Text

Make The First Move

George Weasley x Reader

BG: The Yule Ball is only a month away, but the boy you were hoping to ask you out still hasn’t make a move. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

(With guess appearances of Fred and Cedric)

This is an entry for @heloisedaphnebrightmore ’s 1k Followers Writing Challenge

Fluff prompt #1 “Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?”

Fluff prompt #6 “If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it.”

Trope #8 Friends to lovers

WC: 2623

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

y/n l/n is not a girly girl. You would categorize your fashion mentality to value comfort and functionality more than style.

Yes, during the weekends, you do tend to rock a graphic tee, jeans, soft sneakers and a outwear of choice, depending on what you’re feeling that day- be it a leather jacket, causal blazer to a denim jacket.

Hey in your defence, the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is located isn’t exactly the warmest place, besides students are only allowed to wear casual clothes during the weekends.

But every now and then you do wanna pop on a skirt or a dress, especially when its warm outside.

This upcoming event though…. you, like everyone else is oh so very much do want to feel like a star! To feel elegant! Luxurious!

That’s right the Yule Ball is only a month away. It is all that is in every single student’s mind ever since it was announced. Who would their date to the ball be? What outfit would they wear?

A number of students had already picked their respective dates and dresses. However, a remaining select few have not done either- Like yourself. Time is running out and the pool of available potential partners is decreasing day by day.

You didn’t mind going alone, as long as you have a great time with friends, going alone it isn’t really a big deal. But there is a small childlike wishful thinking that wants to have a fairy tale experience.

It also isn’t helpful that you had started to develop feelings for a certain redheaded twin over the summer. You swear that he too felt the dynamic changed between the two of you- who knew that 3 weeks tinkering with joke shop ideas and fixing out the burrow’s garage could be so impactful.

Though now coming to think of it, could you have just read the signs all wrong? The lingering stares, the tighter and longer hugs… Could this be signs that he planning of ways to murder you? Because if this were all romantic signs, wouldn’t he have had asked you out to the ball by now? It was no secret that you hadn’t said yes to anyone yet.

So, what’s taking so long? George Weasley is one of the most confident and popular guys on campus. Surely, he wouldn’t chicken out or get nervous to ask you.

Right??

Pushing boy trouble aside, you focus back on the dress catalogue your mum had sent you earlier today.

Flipping through the pages, 2 dresses caught you eye. One was a short tule the other had a long side leg slit.

You were in the process of bookmarking the page when you felt the catalogue being pulled out of your grasp.

‘Hey!’ You instinctively shouted to the culprit.

‘What’s this?’ George said, turning to the front cover. ‘“Madam Bella’s Evening Gowns, Autumn/Winter 1994”’

‘Give it back George!’ You tried to take it from him, but he quickly held it above his head.

You stood on the bench in hopes to extend your reach. You could almost take hold-

‘Catch Freddie!’ Shouted George and threw it across the table.

Fred flipped to the dogeared pages. ‘Ahh..’ He was scanning through the choices you had circled. ‘Great choices indeed, my dear y/n!’

At first you weren’t sure if he was teasing you or being sincere.

That must had shown on your face as Fred continued, ‘I’m serious y/n/n!’ He placed his left hand on his heart and raise his right. ‘I swear! But you would look good in any dress anyway.’

You blushed at his compliment. ‘Thanks for the confidence boost Freddie.’

He hands back the catalogue to you, and as you took it, he whispered in your ear. ‘A little hint though,’ He shifts back a bit- now being face to face. ‘My vote is on the slit dress...’

Your brows scrunched together- was this boy seriously giving you fashion advice?

‘….I know George would like that..’ He steals a quick glance towards his twin, who has now turn bright red, both from being embarrassed and furious at him. ‘… I-I mean, it would match George’s dress robes.’

Fred sends you a final wink and bids you both goodbye.

You watch Fred exit the Great Hall, never letting him out of sight until he turns the corner. Which George to grateful for, as that had bought him time to calm his face down.

That was the one of the weirdest exchanges you’ve ever had yet, but you also couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to it.

George cleared his throat ‘So…y/n...Have you got a date yet?’

‘No why?’ You look over at him and you thought that you might give your hypothesis a try. Smirking hopefully, you asked ‘Are you gonna ask me?’

If you only knew what was going on inside of George’s head, the boy was panicking.

It was as if time slowed. Or it was because George’s thoughts are going a thousand miles a second.

Of course, he wanted to ask you to go with him!

But his brain was feeding him of insecurities. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if you did say yes but only as a friend?

Plus, he didn’t want to ask you in front of all these people, thinking that you might be pressured by the crowd to agree.

No, he wanted to do it in a private, more intimate setting. Deserving of your beauty and grand place to confess his feelings.

He’d dream that in return you would say ‘Yes, I loved to go to the ball with you, George!’ and perhaps even say those 3 words he’s been dying to hear-more in the romantic nature than of friendship- and if he was lucky, maybe even share a kiss, that would be the best case scenario.

The worst-case scenario would be you rejecting him, possibly forever ruining the relationship with his best friend and having his heart broken- at least that case, nobody else would witness that.

‘Eh George?? Georgie?? Hello??’ You frantically wake a hand in front of him. ‘Earth to George Weasley!!!’

Great, when you finally had the courage to ask him to be your date-albeit indirectly- You broke him.

‘uuh.. I… I have to go...’ George looked like a deer caught in headlights

‘What?’

His eyes, dart upwards, thinking of an excuse. ‘Yes, I have to go… GO CLEAN MY SOCKS!’ Unfortunately, for him, in an uncharacteristic manner, he failed to think of a believable lie. ‘I’ll see you later!’

And with that he rushed out the Great Hall, leaving you once again gawking with a confused face at another Weasley twin.

You had your back against one of the rock formations near the Black lake, deciding which of the 2 dresses you would be wearing to the ball.

You were enjoying the last good sunny autumn days, taking in the sights of other students having a picnic on this beautiful Saturday. When suddenly a figure had landed right in front of you.

‘Ahhh!’ You had jumped in fright, causing you to slip a bit.

‘I got you, I got you!’ You felt arms holding you tight, preventing you from falling off the rocks.

Once you had regained your balance you check to see the perpetrator that had gave you a heart attack.

‘CEDRIC DIGGORY!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THAT!!’

The boy chuckled. ‘I know y/n/n, but I just couldn’t help it!’

You narrowed your eyes at him. Which made him laugh even more.

‘You know you love me.’ He gushed, bring you into a hug.

‘And that is my weakness’ Your reply being muffled by his shoulder. You Cedric were as close as brother and sister, having basically grew up together as both your families super close. Your father is best friends with his father and so are your mothers ever since their Hogwarts days. Therefore, naturally you and Cedric have a close bond too, being joined at the hip since birth-the only time part was the 3 months that you are older by.

It has been a while since you two had caught up with each other, him being busy with the Triwizard Tournament ofcourse.

‘Have you got any idea about the second task?’

‘Yeahh’ Cedric gulped.

You crocked a brow. Not buying his bullshit.

Cedric scratched the back of his neck. ‘Fine, I haven’t….’ Gazing towards the lake, he continued. ‘But I think it’s got something to do about the water.’

You take hold of his hand. ‘Hey, it’s alright. You’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.’

‘Thanks y/n. I thought initially you wouldn’t be against me joining.’ He confessed.

‘You know I would support you no matter what. But don’t get me wrong, I’m worried for you Ced, always am. The tournament just upped it to level 1000! But I know that you have it in you to win this, to be the Triwizard Champion!’ You beamed. ‘Imagine that Ced, a Triwizard Champion in the family!’

‘It would be great, would it?’

‘Now to the matter at hand, The Yule Ball.’

‘What about it?’

‘Have you asked someone yet? You enquired.

‘Well there is this gorgeous lady that I’ve been meaning to ask…’ He hinted. ‘Though I am waiting for the right opportunity to ask her, you see everything has to be perfect!’

‘Awww, what an absolute sweetheart!’ You swooned.

Behind Cedric, you could have sworn that you saw someone in the trees. However, in your eagerness to know more of Cedric’s possible date, you brushed it off as the swaying of the branches and falling autumn leaves.

‘How about you? Has Mr. Beater asked you yet?’

You sighed. ‘Not exactly…’

Cedric leaned forward with hands on his chin, interested to hear more.

‘He asked if I had got a date yet, to which I said no. Then teased if he was gonna ask me.’ You recalled. ‘Then he froze. I guess I broke him, cause the next thing he said was that he’s got to go clean his socks.’

That had Cedric doubling over. ‘George really said that?!?!!?’ He had his arms wrapped around his stomach. ‘Clean his socks?!!??’

‘Yeah yeah yeah, laugh all you want Diggory. But you still hadn’t asked Cho out yet.’

‘Heyy! I told you I am waiting for the right moment!’

‘C’mon Ced, Sweet intentions aside. Cho has been declining offers to the ball, time is running out and I bet she is getting tired waiting for you to make a move, especially this close to the ball.’ You know how much Cedric likes Cho and hate to see him sad if and when Cho doesn’t get tired of waiting for him. ‘Sooner or later she might just say yes to some other guy, cause you’re talking so long!’

‘I’m sorry Cedric.’ You had realized that you projected your own frustrations on him. ‘I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.’

‘I know y/n, it’s alright really.’ He smiled, having come up with an idea ‘How about this, the next time you see George, YOU ask him out?’ He suggested.

‘ME?!?’

‘Yes.’ He insisted. ‘That why we would get a definite answer. And this time not more asking in an indirectly direct way. - We don’t want another system error in that head of his. Deal?’

‘Deal’

Picking up the discarded catalogue, he remarked. ‘Hmmm, I think that the long one would suit the occasion better, don’t you think? Being it a formal event and all.’

You agreed. ‘and you‘re not the first one to say that too.’ You muttered-more to yourself.

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing!’

‘So what color are you thinking? Blue or…’

‘Oh I got that all figured out! I was thinking that since the point of the Triwizard Tournament is school unity, I want the grown to be featuring my house colours.’

Fred had ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories as fast as he could. Glad to spot that his twin brother laying down on the bed.

As much as he enjoys teasing his siblings. He could no longer endure the obliviousness of his brother and y/n. He can no longer take the constant nonessential pining, especially when they obviously like each other.

Fred had been trying to get them together for the past month, but it seems that subtly pushing them to the right direction isn’t working. Which leaves him with no choice.

‘If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it’ Stated Fred.

‘What?’

‘I can’t take it anymore Georgie!’ He grabs his brother by the collar. ‘I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I KNOW YOU LIKE Y/N AND BELIEVE ME GEOGRE WHEN I SAY THAT SHE LIKES YOU BACK OKAY.’ Fred pleads, shaking George with each word. ‘AND YOU HAVE GOT TO MAKE A MOVE TODAY! NOW! ASK HER TO THE BALL BEFORE CEDRIC DOES.’

George now dizzy, mumbled. ‘What? How?.....How do you know this?’

‘I saw them together at the lake and me being the best brother that you have decided to eavesdrop.’ Fred admitted. ‘And guess what, Cedric plans to ask a gorgeous lady- y/n- to the yule ball but is just finding the perfect opportunity.’

‘Therefore, brother dearest, it’s only a matter of time til that happens. And I your very supportive wingman urge you to freaking ask y/n out RIGHT NOW before it’s too late.’

That news that Cedric might ask y/n to the ball before he does, had put George back into his senses.

In record time, George had tidy up his clothes and fixed his hair. ‘Right.’ He turned to Fred who was looking smug leaning on the door frame. ‘How do I look?’

‘Smashing.’

‘Great, Now get out of the way you prick.’

George was busy thinking on how to ask y/n out to the yule ball and possibly even side in the chance to ask to go on a date with him, when he accidentally bumped into someone.

‘Wooooahh careful George!’

Damnit! he thought, out of all the people in this huge school, he just had to bump into the one person he doesn’t want to see.

‘Diggory.’ George growled.

‘You two alright?’ Said a voice beside them.

In his annoyance towards Cedric, George hadn’t noticed that you were close by. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’

‘Heyy’ Cedric interrupted. George had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll see you later okay?’

Cedric kissed your forehead and whispered. ‘Good luck.’

This was is. George interpreted that sibling affection as you going out with Cedric to the ball.

Accepting defeat, he cleared his throat. ‘I guess imma go too-‘

‘Wait George!’ You held onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Go ahead.’ Replied George, curious onto what it is that is so important to ask him.

‘Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?’

‘Hmm?’ George once again confused.

‘Gosh you are slow sometimes aren’t you.’ You chuckled. You take a step closer to him, coming up face to face. ‘George Weasley will you go to the ball with me?’

It took a second for George to believe what he was hearing. ‘YES!!’ He exclaimed then recomposed himself. ‘Yes, I would love to go to the ball with you.’

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he decided to take it one step further- cause what else has he got to lose? ‘Will you y/n l/n go on a date with me?’

You bring your arms to his neck, his him close. ‘I’d love nothing more.’ You grinned, pulling him into a long awaited kiss.

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #heloises1kwritingchallenge #george weasley imagine #george weasley #weasley x reader #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #fred and george #Fred and George Weasley #weasley twins #fandomscombine writes

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hopefulobjectmiracle · 3 years

Note

If you could add one Klaine-centric story to the show, what would it be? And if you could take one away, what would it be?

oooh thank you for the question!!

if i could extend one storyline, i would've wanted much more focus on klaine's story in 5x15. i'm honestly surprised that they didn't do more with kurt and blaine in this ep, given that blaine had been through something really similar and was probably facing a lot of PTSD after seeing kurt get hurt. i would've loved if they'd had a conversation about blaine's own experiences and what he was feeling, and if we'd gotten more insight into kurt's headspace after he was attacked. it was touched upon briefly in that scene with burt and again in 5x16, but they never delved deeper.

so if glee had a competent writing team, i would've wanted to see much more of the aftermath of 5x15, as well as blaine taking care of kurt after the accident (bc we all know that blaine would fuss over kurt constantly, lol). this would also give much more context to both boys' actions in 5x16, which is something that episode desperately needed.

honorable mentions to blaine's depression that was mentioned in a throwaway scene in 6x02, as well as dalton burning down in 6x10. both of these things needed a lot more screentime to do their stories justice. also...i wanted to see a story about kurt grieving finn and his mom (potentially having that cute kid return as little!kurt to give us some flashbacks with kurt's mother). oh, and anne hathaway as kurt's lesbian aunt. i'm still sad that this never happened :(

choosing just one to take away was much easier bc there's only one thing from their storyline that i haven't managed to make peace with, and it is 100% the wedding ep. i'm not sure if it counts, because that episode was the farthest thing from klaine centric, but i'm going with it anyway. season 6 was a rollercoaster, and as much as i'm not happy with some of the decisions made, it would've all been more than worth it if their story had come to a satisfying conclusion in 6x08. but...it didn't. it didn't at all.

to me, most of 'a wedding' was deeply disappointing - from their rushed reunion (which glossed over most of their issues) to sue/brittany's involvement in their decision to get married, to the fact that we didn't see kurt agree to marry blaine, to darren and chris's unusual lack of chemistry during the reception, and even the fact that they got a weekend honeymoon in provincetown while brittana got a month in the bahamas.

to me, it would've been far more rewarding to see them reject sue and brittany. i would've loved if they'd either decided to elope on their own or if they'd gotten back together in 6x07 and spent 6x08-6x11 discussing their relationship and taking it slow, with them finally getting married in the finale. either of those scenarios would've made me much happier than 6x08 and i really wish RIB had done one of those instead.

send me your klaine thoughts/questions!

#klaine #evelyn answers stuff

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vawcmag · 3 years

Text

Begin Again

by Nur Aqilah Prada, Gucci, Chanel. Name it, and Lily’s got it. The idea that money makes the world go round drives her to pursue material wealth. Lily splurges all her money on luxury goods and designer bags. She has a well-paying job, a bungalow all to herself, and love from her fans. There is nothing more she needs in life. Lily is a famous author with best-selling books. She started writing when she was 20 years old. However, the opportunity didn’t come easy, especially since Lily struggles to acknowledge her potential.

Twenty years ago, Lily was a fresh graduate, still finding her interests and looking for job opportunities. Despite graduating as a Veterinarian, her heart and passion looked towards reading and writing. She often wrote short stories as a side project during her secondary school days. When she caught herself having some free time, she’d start typing down ideas for a book that she had one day hoped to publish. However, that was just one big dream of hers. Lily doubts she’d ever make a good writer, so she had never shown anyone her works until she glanced upon a poster in the school library with Sophia. Lily was hesitant to join the writing competition, but Sophia encouraged Lily because she believed Lily had the potential. She also wanted Lily to have this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It took Lily until the very end of the closing date to submit her ten paged write-up. Will the judging panel read Lily’s work and throw it in the ‘rejected’ pile? Or will she win and finally be the greatest writer of all time? It turned out to be the latter.

Lily won the competition, and they offered her a contract to write a book within the next eight months. She thought about it for a long time, and with Sophia’s encouragement, she signed the contract and started writing her first official book in no time. In the following year, her book was published and had gained attention and love from readers. She would attend book signings and meet-and-greets with Sophia as Sophia had a car, and it was convenient for Lily to get around. Sophia didn’t mind offering rides to Lily most of the time because she was genuinely happy for her career progression. Lily often hears the famous question, “When will you be writing your next book?” People enjoyed her book and were looking forward to more. Of course, Lily spent most of her time writing and writing. In 3 years, she had already earned so much and even bought an office for herself. Lily’s success turned her into a highly critical and arrogant person. Anything that didn’t go her way would anger her.

“I am not getting in that car with you! Are you insane? What would the public think of me when they see me in this old model Toyota?” said Lily with her eyes narrowed and lips curled. Lily did not want to hop in Sophia’s old car. The same old car she took three years ago to book signings and meet-and-greets. Lily’s Lamborghini was not available as she had sent it for a car wrap for the third time in 6 months just because she had a change in her favourite colour. “We are taking a taxi to the mall. Leave your car here first and take it once we return from the mall. Park it away from my garage. I don’t want anyone seeing this ugly car near my property.”, demanded Lily.

Sophia was taken aback by Lily’s words but brushed off the thought of it. As soon as she got out of her car to hail a taxi, Lily passed on another comment. “Oh Sophia, what are you wearing? Are those the same pair of white shoes you were wearing three years ago? And this thrifted T-shirt? So last year. You know, it’s so embarrassing to be out with you! I am going to the mall, but you should go home. Take your nasty little car with you.” Sophia was speechless. The hurt Sophia felt from Lily’s words were immeasurable. Lily never heard from Sophia again after that. Of course, it didn’t matter to Lily.

Dear Future Lily,

This is a letter from your 20-year-old self. Remember to open me ten years later when you’re 30. I hope by then your career has taken off. You’d be a successful veterinarian. I wrote this letter right after I submitted the write-up for that competition. In all honesty, I crazily wanted to join it. Being a writer was my passion but being a veterinarian was what my family wanted. I didn’t want to disappoint them, and it’s not like I would win it anyway. Maybe joining the competition was a way of saying goodbye to writing, so I did. I am very grateful for Sophia for constantly pushing me to do things I never would’ve done myself. I hope ten years down the road, you will still be in contact with Sophia. I hope the two of us never become strangers whose laugh I could recognise anywhere. I hope we can still count on each other no matter the circumstances. Lastly, I hope we’d still make time to crash my house on weekends to eat ice cream and watch our favourite shows despite our busy schedules. This 20-year-old Lily wishes nothing but the best for the 30-year-old you.

A tidal wave of emotion swelled inside me. I found this letter in my memory box while clearing up for a house renovation. I guess sometimes situations do not always pan out the way I wanted them to be. I’m so glad I found this letter. Now I’m 40, opening the letter 10 years late. 20 years ago, I failed to realise that it’s the simple things that matter, like friends and family, and it deeply pains me to reflect on it. I am utterly disgusted with the way I acted towards Sophia. That was very selfish and ignorant of me. I was too occupied with champagne problems of mine that I didn’t consider Sophia’s feelings when I said nasty things straight to her face. I spent two decades doing the things I enjoyed most, writing and being rich, of course, but at what cost?

I’ve lived a luxurious life, and I am the bestselling author out there. I am grateful for what I’ve accomplished so far, but there was always the feeling of guilt in me. I have now found the answer I’ve been looking for all these years. The guilt. Sophia. If it hadn’t been for her, who constantly encouraged me and reminded me of the great things I could do, it wouldn’t have moved me to apply for the writing competition 20 years ago, and I wouldn’t be where I am today. To Sophia, I may have fallen away from this friendship when my career peaked, but I hope someday you’ll find a place in your heart to forgive me. To my fans, thank you for your support and for giving me a space to be vulnerable. I hope you enjoy my last book, for now, my autobiography.

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kishimoto-did-us-dirty · 4 years

Note

I don’t know if I’ve asked before but would you write for Lee or Choji? Maybe a girl that really likes them and they’re super surprised to find out. Could be friends to lovers?? I just think they deserve more writing! I’m also a hopeless romantic. 😅

Why yes I do~ Thank you for the super cute request! <3

Choji is so underrated I love this plump boy so much T^T both of them are so genuinely kind I love them!!!

Warnings: a teeny bit angsty

OMG WAITTTT

I JUST SAW THAT THIS SAID “SURPRISED TO FIND OUT” T^T

I’M SO SORRYYYYYYYYYYYYY :(

just lmk and I'll re-do them no problem :(

Enjoyyyy!

Friends To Lovers with Choji and Lee

Choji and you have known each other since you were children in the academy

You guys got along super well, and once it was discovered that you got along with Shikamaru too, you’ve been a set trio ever since

You three are attached at the hip

You guys have the most chill and supportive friendship amongst you

Choji is there to talk about your problems and help you emotionally

While Shikamaru is there to solve your problems and help you rationally

It’s a 10/10 friendship. The type you see in the movies.

You guys are never afraid to be honest with each other and accept one another completely as you are

The three of you always have great laughs and even better conversations

You yourself are particularly funny and make up for a lot of the lighter mood in the group

But you and Choji always got along a little more

You liked Shikamaru for sure, but Choji and you were just... closer

Not in the way that Shikamaru and Choji are close -- those two are each other’s ride or die, there’s no equalling that

But it’s obvious that you’re special to one another, especially once you guys become genin

It’s in the way he always compliments you

It’s in the way he always chuckles at your unfunny jokes

It’s in the way he always assures you that you’re amazing

It’s in the way he always lets you rest your head on his shoulder whenever the three of you are cloud watching

It’s in the way he always offers you food that he’s usually protective over

It’s in the way he always fiddles with your hair or rubs patterns into your back whenever you’re next to him

It’s in the way he never stands up for himself but will take on an army to protect you

And it’s been like this ever since you were little

Everyone can see right through it -- the two of you like each other. A lot.

But both of you are just so oblivious

Shikamaru just watches the whole thing go down for years with affectionate exasperation

When you guys end up on different teams, he’s a little heartbroken and so are you

He makes sure that you’re always healthy and especially well fed lol

He worries about you on missions

This all lasts for years

What breaks the two of you out of it is Asuma’s death

He’s been hit, and he’s been hit hard

He doesn't know what to do -- he ends up just softly crying to you in a sense of loss

And you’re there for him every step of the way

Being so close to death, especially one of someone precious, makes people recognize the fragility of life

He begins to see the people precious to him in a new light

Especially you

He asks Shikamaru about it, who has long since known that the two of you liked each other

Shikamaru lets him know that there’s no chance of him being rejected (without saying you like Choji) and just lays out the two options he has:

1) There’s a war approaching. You don’t tell them and they go off to fight and could potentially die just like Asuma.

2) You tell them and they don’t die bc now the two of you have something to fight for: your future together.

Choji decides to do it

It takes him a long ass time though

Maybe 4-6 months?

Not because he’s scared (well, partially), but because he wants to remember you as the exact way he fell in love with you for just a little longer

It ends up being over a hang out with some chips and giggles that he tells you

You guys are just sitting on a hill and talking, your head on his shoulder again

Shikamaru isn’t there bc Choji told him his plan

It’s honestly just really casual and sweet

blUSHING

You can imagine what he says lol

You tell him you feel the sameeee 👀

and then y’all kith. Just a cute peck.

It’s so sickeningly sweet. You may get a cavity.

Anywho, falling into a relationship with him doesn’t feel much different than before

It’s just the same except more affection and kissing

He LIVES for receiving cheek kisses

Also loves receiving praise since his self-esteem ain’t the best

When y’all announce that you’re dating everyone is unimpressed bc they all already knew it was all a matter of time

Naruto is hella confused

He thought y’all had been together since the academy days

Which

You kind of were, now that you thought about it.

10000/10 friend

Supports you unconditionally and will scream as much off of the hokage monument

Always has your back

Any accomplishment that you have ends up with him being prouder than you are

You two are just pretty in tune with each other tbh

You definitely admire him from afar

You liked him first for sure

He’s just super one track minded and oblivious that it was hard for him to notice

You guys were still friends though and bonded through shared missions, training and getting food together after either/or

You just admire his dedication and persistence as well as how hard he tries to make his dreams into a reality

Not only that, but he’s so attentive to your needs and emotions that he’s a really steady figure within your life

No one except a few people close to you know just how much you admire him

You don’t want to distract him from his goals as a Shinobi and tbh it doesn’t seem like he ever will be

You’re convinced for a while that he’ll never like anyone until he’s retired

So when you see him with Sakura it lowkey saddens you

Because that means he does like someone, he just doesn’t like you

However Tenten, who has her suspicions on how you feel about him, casually mentions in passing that although he really does think she’s pretty, she believes Lee’s pursuing of Sakura is only a product of his rivalry with Naruto and Sasuke

Thank god for Tenten, the queen that she is

It’s a long process with Lee

Unlike Choji who always liked you, Lee takes a longer time to see you for just how amazing you really are

It starts out with training

He punches the training stump at a bad angle accidentally and cuts his finger. It’s not bad, but he’s bleeding a decent amount for a cut

He tries to continue but you won’t let him and insist on him being properly bandaged before he continues

It’s when you’re wrapping his hand that he sort of realizes how great you are to him

This doesn’t directly lead to any feelings though

He just starts noticing how great you are in general

He thinks it’s totally platonic too

You land a good hit on him? Wow, you’re so amazing!

You stop to take a drink of water? What an awesome self-caring person you are!

You bandage someone up? Could you be any better?

He just starts to notice things about you that he doesn’t even think are that important, just normal admiration for his friend

You of course already admire everything about him

So when you get asked out by someone else and he hears about it??? 👀👀👀👀

Lee can’t help but think to himself that they just don’t know how amazing you are as well as he does

Again, he thinks it’s totally platonic

Boy is dense

But it still really bothers him

You didn’t even say yes to the guy

But it’s just a matter of him thinking about you with them

Now the boy is not a control freak or dominating product of toxic masculinity

He knows you have a free will and that you don’t belong to him or anything

It was just the thought of you not spending as much time with him and showing off how amazing you are to him that got him sad :(

And then he just kind of realized that he wants to spend all the time he can with you

And so he does lol

BUT HE STILL THINKS IT’S A PLATONIC FEELING

You start recognizing how much time he’s been spending with you lately and how much he seems to want to be around you

And so with a little push from Tenten you decide to confess

But when you do, Lee kind of just goes:

“Oh... so that's what I’m feeling...”

And realizes that he didn't just want to spend time with you, he just wanted you

And so from there, you got to show him just how amazing you are every day forth 😌

SORRY THESE LOWKEY SUCKED I WROTE THEM IN BETWEEN ONLINE CLASSES T^T

#naruto #naruto headcanons #lee x reader #choji x reader #choji akimichi #rock lee #naruto fluff #choji fluff #lee fluff #lee headcanons #Choji headcanons

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unsettledink · 3 years

Text

Gotcha Chapter 6!

(Trying something new and posting the full text here as well as AO3? It feels too long, but I’ve posted longer things here before, Idk.)

Read on AO3

Peter: sorry im on my way!

Peter: iswear im just running late

Peter: i will be there supr fast!!

Peter: sorry!

Quentin stares down at his phone and somehow, manages not to sigh. It’s a full ten minutes past when they were supposed to meet, and he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place.

Quentin: Don’t worry, it’s fine.

Peter: im sosorry

Peter: my alarm got set for tomorroow instead of today

Peter: i dont even know how

Peter: adn i just woke up and i dont even sleep this late like ever

Peter: but i willl bet there soon i promise

Peter: sorry!

Quentin: Really, it’s fine! There’s no hurry.

Quentin: We’re not exactly on a schedule or anything.

Peter: its so rude tho

Peter: for once it wast me losingt rack of time!!

Peter: im still sorry!

Quentin had given himself a little extra time this morning, just to remind himself of all the many, many reasons he is doing this, in this particular way. Had spent that time summoning up every bit of patience he could find to get through this day, because he had a feeling he was going to need it.

It feels like he’s already used half of it.

And of course he won’t be able to comment on Peter’s lateness, not even as a joke.

Peter: im like hafway there already illl just have to chagne and then ill be there!

Peter: seriously i am so sorry

Normally he’d be all for hearing Peter apologize, but it keeps happening every other word, Quentin will lose his mind.

He’s already losing his mind.

Well, he’s not going to just stand here until Peter does show up. He glances around for somewhere to sit; there’s a coffee shop just across the street. Perfect. He’s going to need that.

Quentin: Hey, don’t rush!

Quentin: I’ll just grab a coffee okay?

Quentin: I’ll be over at Kaldi’s, it’s just across the street. Can’t miss it.

Quentin: You want anything?

Peter: you dont haveto!

There’s no stopping the sigh this time. God.

Quentin: Not what I asked, kiddo.

Peter: um

Peter: suure?

Peter: someting with carmel i dont care mych

Peter: ill be there realy soon tho!!

Quentin: Then we can just sit for a bit.

Quentin: You’ll probably need it if you just woke up.

It’s a little funny how… drastically downgraded Peter’s texting is when he’s apparently still half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that he’s in a hurry. Or—

Quentin nearly stops in the middle of the sidewalk. He— surely, Peter isn’t—

Quentin: Are you texting AND webswinging?

Peter: …maybe?

No wonder he goes through phones so fast.

Quentin: You’re going to drop your phone

Peter: hey! imst icky! i wont drop it!

Quentin: Then you’re going to fall from being distracted

Quentin: And I won’t feel sorry for you.

Peter: :(

Quentin: I’ll laugh

Peter: :( :( :(

Quentin: You brought this on yourself.

He spends the time until Peter gets there reviewing Lynn’s newest plans for the miniaturized drones; they actually aren’t too bad.

Of course, they’ve probably had them sitting, waiting, for months, what with how they’ve harped on and on about how this should be a priority.

It won’t do to let them get too full of themselves, so along with the praise he sends back plenty of potential revisions. Even brings up some entirely new bits for them to consider; should keep them busy for a bit.

“Hi!” Peter says, flinging himself down across from Quentin. He’s flushed and still out of breath, his hair sticking up. “I’m here! I’m so sorry!”

Quentin allows himself a slightly amused smile. “Hi,” he says. Pushes Peter’s drink—some sort of ridiculously sweet caramel flavored thing that’s barely coffee at all—across the table to him. “Sit. Drink. Relax a bit, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, running a hand through his hair and only making things worse. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry, though. I’m just… it’s really embarrassing to be that late when this was my idea in the first place and—”

“Peter,” Quentin says, cutting him off. “Breathe! It’s fine, I promise.”

For once, Peter listens, and takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment. Lets it out and relaxes the smallest bit, and grabs his drink. “Oh,” he says. “This is good! Thanks; you were right about me needing it.”

Quentin watches while he unwinds; Peter’s latest idea regarding ‘things they could do together’ was to show Quentin around Queens, so today they’re wandering. Quentin’s thrilled.

It could be worse. Peter had been all set up to take him to the most popular, well known, touristy spots, and Quentin had barely been able to hide his dread at the thought. It’d taken a little work, but he’d manage to convince Peter that Quentin would much rather see Peter’s favorite places. Even if they were nothing fancy or exciting, or little hole in the wall type places, or silly.

Even if they bored Quentin to tears.

Not that he can let Peter see even a hint of that. There’s a special kind of… vulnerability in sharing the smallest things you like, something different than exposing the larger, more damaged pieces of yourself. Something oddly hopeful about showing someone the unexplainable, intimate things you like and waiting for them to enjoy those things as well. Or at the very least, not reject them, in a way that suggests they’re rejecting your tastes as well.

Not rejecting you.

He’s started to prove to Peter he can handle the bigger things, the superhero stuff and the feelings nearly suffocating Peter; time to show that he can be trusted with the little things too. That Peter can come to Quentin with anything at all. Anything. Everything.

“So,” Quentin says. “What’s first?”

He was right; it is pretty boring. Not… awful, surprisingly, but not Quentin’s sort of thing at all. Peter’s apparently decided to try and cover as many miles as he can in one day, dragging Quentin from one end of Queens to the other. And then back; Quentin’s going to take tomorrow off for sure. Peter just has so much energy.

Has so much enthusiasm, Quentin thinks, as they poke through a small used record store that isn’t nearly as hipster as he expected from Astoria. So, so much enthusiasm, for the smallest things. It just bursts out of him once he gets comfortable and isn’t second guessing every single word he says.

Once Quentin has seemed interested in the first few things Peter shows him. Peter’s nervous about it, trying to explain away any shortcomings before Quentin’s even gotten in the door. He’s just desperate for approval, for acceptance. For Quentin to like him.

It’s not that hard to, actually.

It’s never been that Quentin dislikes Peter. Sure, Peter’s causing him grief and can be incredibly annoying, and sure, about half of what he feels for Peter is pity, but those can exist alongside the fact that Quentin kind of likes Peter.

Has liked him, ever since he started compiling research on him, ever since he’d met Peter as Mysterio and shook his hand and watched him get so excited over the existence of multiverse. It’s harder not to like Peter, not even a bit. He’s ridiculously smart, and stupidly good-natured, and—

He throws himself into everything he does; goes full out, with his heart on his sleeve. It’s no wonder he gets anxious as hell, if his first impulse is to practically flaunt all his soft spots, open and eager and expecting the best. It’s going to go poorly more often than not.

Must have, judging by the way Peter pulls himself in and hides, overrides that instinctual reaction so quickly it’s just a flash, a glimpse Quentin keeps catching again and again. He’s been taught to second guess himself somewhere along the way, by someone—probably a lot of someones—who saw those tender spots and couldn’t help poking them, taking advantage of them.

Just like Quentin’s doing; Peter should be better about spotting that sort of thing by now.

It’s almost a shame to fix Peter just to tear him apart completely, to have to use him like this, but… well. In the end, Peter’s nothing but another obstacle scattered in Quentin’s path. There are far more important things to worry about than the fate of one kid.

Peter grins at him when Quentin admits that this dinky little secondhand bookstore in Jamaica was worth a stop, even if it’s just for the most comfortable couch Quentin has ever sat on. Smiles when he points out a mural he loves on the way to the next attraction and admits he’d actually webbed up someone who started to tag it.

Straight up laughs at Quentin’s face when Peter shows him the most supremely creepy things in some huge thrift store, full of weird antiques and vintage crap. God, it’s disturbing that the things Quentin had as a kid, even as a teen, are considered vintage now.

“Jesus, Peter,” Quentin says after he has to look at a one hundred percent haunted taxidermied squirrel. “Why would you make me see that? I’m going to have nightmares.”

“For that exact face,” Peter says. “Oh my god, you look like you think it’s going to bite you!”

“It might,” and it’s unfair that Peter just laughs harder. He glares at Peter, but it might be slightly put on.

He’s allowed to like Peter a little, Quentin decides, watching Peter nearly double over with giggles. It’ll make having to deal with him easier, if nothing else, and it’s not as though liking someone has ever stopped him from using them—even disposing of them—in the past. It sure won’t this time.

They wander some more, Peter chattering on and easily filling the silence as long as Quentin remembers to make the appropriate listening noises occasionally. Every now and then, Peter hesitates, a nervous stumble in his words, something throwing him off, and Quentin reengages fully. He can’t afford to let Peter get too caught up in his thoughts.

But a few questions—carefully designed to make Quentin seem far more interested than he is—are enough to get Peter going again, bouncing from place to place until Quentin suggests they could use something to eat.

“Oh my god, yes,” Peter says. “I’m starving and didn’t even realize it. Ooo, last time we were down here, Ned and I found this awesome truck that does crazy good Korean barbeque, you’d love it.”

“No,” Quentin says without thinking, the sweet tart burnt smell so strong he can nearly taste it, can feel it stinging when he draws in a breath.

He twitches, shrugging it off, and tries to walk back how sharp that had come out. “Uh, I’m not big on sweet sauces and meat?” he says. “Got another recommendation?”

Peter drags him to a place that has the weirdest chimichanga combinations—and normal ones too, thankfully—and once again, attempts to pay.

“You know,” Quentin says as he pokes Peter out of the way, immensely irritated that Peter is still pushing him on this. “I didn’t realize your memory was this bad.”

“Hey!” Peter says. “It’s not! What are you talking about?” like that doesn’t prove Quentin’s point exactly.

“I seem to remember a bet I won,” he says, “relating to this exact situation.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it. “Um,” he says.

“Yeah,” Quentin says,raising his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Peter says, “okay, you can’t blame me for trying!”

“Hmmm,” Quentin says, passing over one of the foam trays. “You’re forgiven. This time. Just don’t do it again.” It’s always a good idea to get Peter into the habit of following Quentin’s rules, of remembering not to challenge Quentin too much.

Of remembering that Quentin will forgive him anything, easily.

“Fine,” Peter says through a mouthful, so mature.

They eat on the way to the next stop on Peter’s little tour; Quentin had been hoping they were approaching the end, but when Peter looks at him and asks, so hesitantly, if Quentin is tired and wants to call it a day—

Well he can’t say no.

Quentin finds himself dragged on to little half hidden shops, with any signage and down stairs that Quentin has to ask how Peter could have found in the first place. To statues Peter likes, to places he feeds pigeons—why he’d want to, Quentin doesn’t know—places with great views of the Hudson.

And, over and over, once Quentin catches on and starts pushing it, places to eat. Because Peter’s metabolism is a thing of wonder.

It’s interesting watching Peter banter back and forth with an older man about his sandwich; Quentin had gotten the impression Peter was uneasy around strangers, all his awkwardness amping up. But the way Peter’s interacted with people today is much more relaxed, much easier. Peter has a sharp sense of humor that Quentin has only started to see, as Peter gets comfortable around him.

Why do all these strangers get it right off the bat?

He watches Peter dart over to help get a stroller over a curb and— they’re not strangers. Not really. It’s not just that everywhere they’ve gone is somewhere Peter has been again and again, to the point where he knows people.

This is Peter’s home ground. His comfort zone, and the people in it— they’re his people. And when he’s helping them, his nerves disappear. His awkwardness becomes a tool of its own, disarming, downplaying the threat Peter could so easily be.

This is what he wants to be when he’s Spider-Man; the guy on the street, helping in a hundred tiny ways.

That’s fine with Quentin. Perfectly fine; now how does he get Peter to stay there, with EDITH looming over his head?

He can practically hear that in William’s voice, ugh. He’s working on it.

They wind up in Kissena late in the afternoon, almost early evening, really. Peter steps off the path once they get into one of the more wooded areas, and there’s a grassy spot past a few bushes, with a truly massive tree near the center, smaller ones scattered around it. It’s well hidden.

“Alright,” Quentin says, as he has with every other place, “what's the story behind this? How’d you find it?”

“So, when I got bit, when everything changed?” Peter settles down at the base of the tree, cross legged. “One of the things that was like, a huge pain, was how all of my senses got crazy amplified. Everything was turned up to eleven, you know?”

Quentin sits across from Peter, stretching his legs out as he leans back. Ugh, grass; he’d better not end up with bug bites. “Okay,” he says. “Sounds like that was pretty overwhelming.”

Peter groans. “You have no idea! It was really hard for a while, because even once I started to get used to everything being too loud and too bright and too smelly and— things tasted weird and my clothes made me feel like my skin was crawling and it was—” He stops, tipping his head back against the tree and looking upward.

“It was a lot,” he says. “Eventually I sorta started being able to deal with all that sort of… feeling stuff? I mean, physical, sensory, not like feeling feelings.”

Coherent; Quentin does not roll eyes through sheer force of will.

“But I was still really struggling with the, um,” Peter frowns, tips his head back further until Quentin can’t really see his face. “The stuff in my head. Actually doing things, thinking about things or even focusing on one thing was all so hard. It was like…”

“It was like what?” Quentin asks, after a few moments have passed.

“Everything was a distraction,” Peter says, slowly. “That’s still not right, because normally, before, I’d get distracted thinking about something else I wanted to do, or I’d be daydreaming, or, um, just, good stuff? Stuff that I’d want to focus on, just not right that second.”

“This wasn’t like this.” Peter looks down and starts to fiddle with a bit of grass, pulling up blades one by one. “This was like so much noise inside my head, like every little detail about every single thing was right there, grabbing my attention. I’d be trying to do one thing and all that would be clamoring at me nonstop.”

He closes his eyes, scrunching his whole face up. “People talk about wanting super sense a lot,” he says, “but it sucked so much at first.”

“People generally don’t think through those kinds of wishes very much,” Quentin says. Honestly, for the most part people don’t think at all.

“I’m pretty much okay now,” Peter says. “I figured out how to filter things most of the time; when there’s a bunch of stuff at once I can get so caught up in trying to ignore it that I ignore everything, and then that’s it’s own problem.”

“I noticed,” Quentin says, dryly. “Makes you pretty jumpy.”

Peter huffs, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, brushing the ripped up grass off his pants. “I’m still working on getting the kinds of focus right?”

Quentin leans further back on his hands, crossing his legs. “You said something about focusing on me that one time,” he says, and Peter goes faintly pink. “That the sort of thing you’re talking about?”

“Something like that,” Peter says. “If I have one thing I can focus on, almost completely, then I can make it into… uh, white noise, I guess? Or it makes everything else into white noise. If that makes any sense at all.”

Not one bit, but whatever. He can press that later. “Sure,” Quentin says, waving his hand. “I’m following.”

It’s actually something to consider— if Peter manages to function better in difficult situations by focusing on one specific thing, what happens when that thing is taken away? Is ripped away from him, in fact. Would there be a moment of disorientation they could take advantage of? Maybe they could set Peter up to focus on what they want; he’s already using Quentin as a focal point, apparently.

He’ll have to watch Peter, Quentin thinks. This fumbling little explanation leaves a lot to be desired, but he doesn’t have much faith Peter actually could explain it better even if he tried.

“That helps,” Peter’s saying, “but it’s still really exhausting after a while. Sometimes I want to just… stop. Just not feel it at all, not have to try not to feel it.”

He glances at Quentin, and Quentin nods. Peter looks oddly shy, so he’d better pay close attention to what he’s showing.

“I’ve found a couple of places like this, but this is probably my favorite,” Peter tells him. “I can come here and actually relax. If I stop trying to block things out, or stop focusing on one thing, it doesn’t matter.” He tips his head back again, looking up at the tree.

“It's quiet here, pretty much all the time,” Peter says; the light through the leaves is diffuse, dappled on his face. “Even the noises that I get are like, soft things. Leaves and wind and things walking on grass. People talking, yeah, but that’s more distant and almost like background noise. It’s still shadowy in here when it’s super bright out, and there aren’t any super gross strong smells either. Just dirt and water and uh, green stuff.”

He darts a glance down at Quentin without moving his head. “Don’t laugh at me!” he says, and it’s right on the edge of plaintive. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I’m not,” Quentin says. He understands; it’s not something a city kid would be around that often, would probably even notice without senses like Peter’s. “I wouldn’t. I know what you mean, Peter.”

“Okay,” Peter says. Looks back away from Quentin and then closes his eyes. “It’s nice. And when I have to go back to the real world, it’s not quite as hard to handle.”

Quentin watches him. Watches as he slowly, slowly unwinds. Peter doesn’t move, aside from his head tipping slightly to the side, and Quentin—

He’d thought, earlier, that it was interesting how much Peter loosened up around people he felt comfortable with, places he felt safe. He’d thought it was a large degree of relaxation—and it was—but it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to the way the tension drains from him with each passing second, from every single bit of his body, until he looks calmer than Quentin has ever seen.

Happier.

If this is how he looks when truly relaxed, the level of stress Peter must carry with him every day, everywhere he goes—from the physical tension to the mental, the anxiety, the constant background level of effort that other people don’t have to think about—must be ridiculously high.

He doesn’t want to say anything, do anything, that would break the stillness that seems to have spread over the entire glade. Poor kid. He might be doing a great job at being a pain in Quentin’s ass, but he isn’t cut out for this superhero shit.

Everything Quentin sees just convinced him further that taking EDITH from Peter really is doing him a favor. He’d never intended for that to be true, but— it’s not a terrible byproduct.

Peter sighs eventually, a barely there breath of a thing, opening his eyes halfway. He looks dazed, almost half asleep.

At least, until he notices that Quentin is watching him, and then he flushes. Looks down, the moment dissipating. “Anyway,” Peter says. “It’s— it’s a nice place for me,” like he’s admitting something embarrassing.

“I can tell,” Quentin says, offering him a small smile. “You deal with a lot every day, don’t you.” He shifts against his tree, trying to get more comfortable without Peter noticing and getting all fussy about it.

“I guess,” Peter says.

He picks up a leaf, twirling it through his fingers absently. “It’s getting really frustrating,” he adds. “Because it’s been almost two years, right? So I should have a better handle on this! I shouldn’t still be getting tripped up by such little things. And—” he makes a face, shoulders starting to hunch again.

“So I have this… this sense? Uh, I call it a spidey sense— I know, it’s kind of stupid. It sort of warns me about things? Like someone poking me, or shouting that something bad is about to happen.”

“Mmm, you mentioned that once,” Quentin says. “Sort of like a limited precog?” Honestly, he’d dismissed it— not fully, it wouldn’t do to completely dismiss anything about Peter. But it hadn’t seemed like it did much for Peter in Europe.

And it hadn’t picked up anything about Quentin, so how good could it really be?

“Oh, huh,” Peter says. “I hadn’t really thought of it like that? Maybe, but it’s not very exact. Sometimes it’s super obvious, but others it takes me a while to figure out what’s wrong. And lately, especially, it’s been— it’s gone kinda nuts? I don’t feel like I can trust it anymore.”

“Like, like right now?” he adds. “Right now it’s just going off like something really big and bad is happening, but come on!” He throws his hands up, exaggerated. “We’re just sitting here talking! Nothing, literally nothing bad is happening. It’s freaking out for no reason.”

Fuck.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have dismissed it, Quentin thinks, trying to stay as relaxed as he was a moment ago. Maybe he really fucking shouldn’t have, because some part of Peter knows that Quentin’s not good news. Knows that Quentin is something dangerous, is a threat.

And apparently knows it very, very insistently. Oh, fuck, this is the last thing he needs. Why now? Why is Peter’s sense losing its shit now and not at any time in Europe? What has he done differently to set it off?

God, what if it had been going off then too? Could that be why Peter had backed off at the last second in the bar, EDITH almost in Quentin’s hand? Has Peter been feeling this the entire time?

It’s a good thing he doesn’t seem to be listening to it, but that could stop at any second. At any time, Peter could decide that maybe his stupid ‘spider sense’ isn’t wrong, and that would be— that would be bad. That would be so bad.

Quentin has got to figure out how to make sure Peter keeps dismissing what it’s telling him.

“It’s so annoying,” Peter’s saying. “I wish it would stop, would just shut up already. It’s like this constant thing lately, sort of fading in and out but almost always there, but not a single thing has happened!”

Oh, that’s really, really not great. Almost always? In and out? How long will it take before Peter starts to realize it’s linked to Quentin?

No. No, he can fix this. He can nip this in the bud, before Peter has even a hint of suspicion. Peter’s already trying to ignore it, already annoyed by it. Quentin can use that.

“Maybe it’s just confused?” Quentin brings one knee up and rests his elbow on it, letting his arm dangle oh so casually. “After all,” he adds, “I’m hardly a bad thing, am I?”

Peter smiles, all that irritation gone in a second. “No!” he says. “Of course not! You’re like, the least bad thing that’s happened in a while.”

Quentin grins back at him. Yeah, keep thinking that, kid. “Well that’s a relief!” he says. “How finely tuned is this thing anyway? Could something have… I don’t know, damaged it? Hmm, screwed up its baseline, maybe? How do you even recalibrate it?”

“I have no clue,” Peter says. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t really test it or fix it or whatever. It’s practically useless now.”

Perfect; he wants Peter distrusting this sense. Wants him not thinking about it at all, avoiding the topic entirely— ah.

If he can get Peter thinking his damaged sense has something to do with the fights he’s been in, these bigger battles, that would be ideal. Peter’s already trying hard not to think about those; tie this sense to them as well, and he’ll just have even more reason to avoid both

“Could something have overloaded it?” Quentin asks. “Just completely swamped it, and it hasn’t recovered yet? If it got used to there being danger nonstop, on all sides, maybe it can’t stand down.”

“…maybe?” Peter says. “But I don’t know what would have caused that, or even when. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

What.

Really, Quentin thinks, really? Peter can’t think of anything that would fit? Why wouldn’t he think of that? “Nothing?” he says, quietly.

Peter frowns. Takes a moment, and when he opens his mouth, Quentin is almost sure he’s made the connection; but Peter hesitates. Shrugs. “Not anything that’s like, major or a big deal or anything,” he says.

Does Peter— has he really managed to convince himself that all the fighting he’s done is nothing? Or at least, been trying to, because that hesitation says a lot.

He should have expected this, with the way Peter’s consistently downplayed himself so far. He really should have, but somehow it still annoys him. No wonder Peter isn’t willing to admit how scared and screwed up he is, if he thinks he’s completely overreacting to ‘no big deal’.

“Well,” Quentin says, and he’s watching Peter carefully. He doesn’t know quite how this will hit. “You were at war, on a battlefield. More than once, even. That can really mess you up in all kinds of ways.” Remember, Peter, he thinks. Remember that you were hurt, that there’s a good reason to be scared. To run.

“I— that—” Peter stares at him. “I wasn’t in a war,” he says. Dammit. Looks like downgrading it in his head is exactly what Peter’s been doing, and that is exactly the opposite of what Quentin wants.

“No? What would you call it?” Quentin asks, raising an eyebrow. He pushes himself more upright, uncrossing his legs. “It sounded a lot like war to me.”

Peter shakes his head, fingers crushing the leaf he’s been playing with. “It was just a fight,” he says, strained. “That’s all!”

A fight. Just a fight, like it was nothing more than a little spat, was nothing at all. Has someone been telling him this, reinforcing it? Fury, maybe, or even Tony before that?

He knows Fury wants Peter to think he can handle things, but has he also been trying to convince him that what he’s been through so far was small enough Peter should have been able to handle it? Should be able to handle the aftereffects? That he shouldn’t be upset about it, that he’s overreacting?

That’s not good; Quentin doesn’t need Peter doubting he can handle things. He needs Peter to be certain he can’t, and more, that it’s perfectly normal. Acceptable. Not something horribly selfish at all.

“Peter,” he says, “it wasn’t just a fight.”

“It was! It was just one— it wasn’t a war!”

“It wasn’t— Peter,” Quentin says, and sighs. “It was a lot more than that. You’ve been dragged from fight to fight to fight the past couple of years, without anyone helping you after; from what I hear, you really could have used some after that thing upstate.”

He huffs, too sharp to be a real laugh. “And that’s just what I know of,” he adds. “I’m not stupid enough to assume that’s everything.”

Peter sucks in a sharp breath, his hands fisted on his thighs. Blinks, and then looks at Quentin intently, his brow furrowed. “How do you even know about that? About— about other fights?”

“I spent some time talking with Fury,” Quentin says. “He wasn’t big on details, but I got enough that I can fill them in on my own. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t even know every fight you’ve been in, though I’m sure he’d like me to think so.”

He’d been talking with Janice, more like. God, she’d been such a find; seething about having had Tony himself be an ass to her, more than once, but willing to stay where she was to pass things on. She’d had access to so much confidential information, and every time SI and SHIELD decided to bury another thing, shift the blame and throw money at it until it all went away—for them, at least—she’d gotten a little more resentful.

It’s true that they might not have the finer details—it drives him nuts how sparse the info about whatever it was that crashed SI’s plane into the beach is—but he has enough to know that Peter’s been involved time and time again.

“Oh,” Peter says, looking down, losing some of his ire. “You probably didn’t hear much good, I bet. But— it doesn’t matter if it was more than one fight, cause they were all different. All like, spread out and about other stuff. It’s still not war.”

“What do you think war is, then?” Quentin asks, actually curious.

“I don’t, uh. War is… more?” Peter stumbles along, and he’s being incredibly stubborn about this. “More than that, than any of those. Worse. Way worse. You don’t— you weren’t there, you don’t know what it was really like. It wasn’t like that.”

“I think,” Quentin says dryly, “I have a pretty good idea of what war is.”

Peter looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “God, I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I just, just meant that you were in a war. In a real, horrible, endless one and this…” He shudders. “These were just fights. It’s not the same, it’s not anywhere near as bad.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says. Looks at Quentin and then drops his head into his hands, knees coming up as he curls in on himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Quentin, I didn’t mean…”

This is really not what he was going for. Shit, he shouldn’t have said it like that; Peter’s too sensitive for him to be even a little sharp.

Quentin sighs, very softly, though he’s sure Peter still catches it. Pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to Peter, who doesn’t even look up. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” Quentin says. “It’s okay, Peter.”

Peter just shakes his head a little; Quentin thinks of sighing again but—somehow—manages to restrain himself. He sits down next to Peter, his back against the tree.

“War doesn’t have to go for a long time to be real,” he says, not looking at Peter. “It doesn’t have to drag on and on for it to still be awful, for it to still affect you,” and Jesus, he’s had to hear shit along those lines so many times. Had to sit there and listen to people be told over and over that what happened to them is worth being fucked up over.

Even if it isn’t. There’s a lot of reasons he never opened his mouth at those meetings, and his disgust at everyone else was the biggest. What a waste of time.

Well. Maybe not. It did give him the material to work Peter over.

“It doesn’t have to be some huge, dramatic battle to qualify,” Quentin says. “It still counts. Pretending it doesn’t doesn’t get it out of your head.” Come on, he thinks, let it be bad, be a nightmare. Admit that there’s a good reason, a real reason, for you to be scared, and then you can back down without shame. Come on, Peter.

“It doesn’t feel like it should count,” Peter says, a bit muffled, head still in his hands. “It wasn’t— lots of people have dealt with so much worse. Something like this, it’s not— it’s not an excuse for, for…”

He doesn’t finish that thought, but Quentin doesn’t need him to. An excuse, hmm? He turns his head toward Peter, just a bit. “Why don’t you want to call it a war?”

Peter lifts his head, arms sliding down to cross across his chest. “Why does it matter to you what I call it?” he asks, and there’s a hint of sharpness in there. Maybe even anger. “Why do you even care if I admit— if I think it’s a war?”

Nice little slip there; isn’t that interesting. Peter does know it was more than a few little fights. He knows, he’s just trying as hard as he can to pretend otherwise. Trying to redirect, as usual, turning the question back on Quentin. Why does it matter, Peter wants to know, and there are so many answers Quentin could give.

It matters because you need to see yourself as badly damaged. Because you need to acknowledge that this is something huge and overwhelming and frightening. Because I need you to start accepting what I say as right, start accepting me as an authority. I need you to not question me.

So many reasons, and he can’t tell Peter any of them. Ugh.

He turns further toward Peter. “Because I think you’re doing yourself a disservice,” Quentin says, tightly, irritation rising up in him. “When you sit there and insist that it’s nothing more than a little fight, when you play it off like it’s nothing— you’re devaluing what you did, and that’s wrong.”

“Don’t act like what you went through, what you did, doesn’t count,” Quentin says, and Peter’s looking over at him, startled. “That it wasn’t brave as hell, and terrifying as hell too.”

Peter stares, his eyes very wide. “I— it’s not like I did more than anyone else there. Than, than anyone else would have.”

“It sounds like you did more than enough,” Quentin says. “And— it doesn’t matter, Peter. It still messes you up. War fucks everyone up. Maybe it didn’t go on long enough for it to really warp your thinking, your morals or empathy or capacity to even feel, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t damage you.”

Peter jerks, sitting up straighter. “I’m not damaged!”

For fuck’s sake.

Quentin has to dig deep for a bit more patience. “Sure you are. Hey, Peter— wait,” he says, watching as Peter shuts down all over again, hurt. “That’s not bad, kid. It’s not an insult. It’s just… you gotta admit that before you can get better.”

Or not, if Quentin gets his way; admitting it might lead to Peter actually getting over his fear and stepping up. But with Quentin around, guiding him along? Peter’s never going to take that admission as anything other than a personal failure.

As just another reason he can’t, and someone else should.

“I don’t know,” Peter mutters. “It doesn’t feel like it should count.”

Quentin watches him for a minute. Leans in, his shoulder bumping against Peter’s. “You’d agree that I’ve been in war, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And that I’m able to judge what is and isn’t war. Right?”

Peter can be smart, sometimes. He sees where this is going. Sighs. “Yeah,” he says.

“Will you—” Quentin pauses, waits until Peter is looking at him. “Can you trust me here, and believe that I mean it when I say what you went through was war?”

Peter blinks, his eyes dropping. He’s silent, and Quentin can feel the muscles of his arm moving as Peter fiddles with something out of sight. “I’ll think about it,” Peter says, which is not quite the response Quentin was hoping for. Still, it’s not another denial. Baby steps.

“I’ll— maybe,” Peter says. “I guess you would know, even if you weren’t there.”

“You should listen to me,” Quentin agrees, leaning a little harder against Peter. “I do know!”

You should listen to me, and only me, he thinks. We’ll get you there, kid.

Peter huffs softly, pushing back against Quentin’s shoulder. “Maybe,” but he’s smiling faintly.

Quentin smiles back; he can accept a maybe, for now.

He’ll get a yes soon enough.

#mysteryspider #spiderio #quenter #quentin beck x peter parker #quentin x peter #mcu #spiderman #gotcha #wip #my work #fanfiction

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buckybeardreams · 3 years

Text

Unwanted

Chapters: 4/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him.

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,542

The first night when Steve didn't get a call from his soulmate he convinced himself that he was too tired when he got off his shift to call him, that maybe he didn't want to call him so late. Totally reasonable. Steve barely slept that night, staring at his phone for hours and willing it to ring before dragging his butt out of bed at the crack of dawn and heading over to Sam's.

Sam answered in his underwear, told Steve to keep his voice down when he started to excitedly tell him about his night, and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Despite Sam's best attempts to keep Steve quiet they still woke his mate, who apparently was not a morning person. Though to be fair, Steve had woken him up at six o'clock and not many people were excited about being awake that early, especially if they didn't have to be.

Sam's Omega snapped at them to shut up when he entered the kitchen, ranted about how Steve was way too sunshiny for someone who was awake before the sun, and then stole Sam's coffee. Sam just smiled fondly at him and wrapped his arms around his waist, letting Brock lean up against him.

"So you must be Brock?" Steve asked, grinning. "I just found my mate too."

Sam smiled at Steve.

"I really am so glad for you, man. Next time call before you show up though."

Steve blushed and scratched the back of his neck.

"Sorry, Sam. I was just so excited and I had to tell you."

"It's all good."

Brock grumbled about damn early morning people and refilled the coffee cup before joining in on the conversation.

"So, what is he like?" Brock asked, feeling much more alive with coffee in him.

"He's perfect. Gorgeous dark eyes, dark curls, so tiny he's practically pocket size,” Steve said, clearly lost on the Omega he'd barely even spoken to. “He's the prettiest Omega I've ever seen."

Brock raised a brow at him.

"Saying that in the presence of another Omega is dangerous."

Steve blushed and stuttered out an apology that Brock waved off.

"Relax, I'm only teasing you. I'm not jealous of your mate," Brock said, rolling his eyes and pressing closer to Sam, turning to press his nose into his neck.

"I'm glad things are working out for you, man," Sam said, his thumb rubbing circles into Brock's hip. "When do we get to meet him?"

Steve shrugged.

"I don't know. I need him to call me first and then I'm thinking I'll take him out on a date and after..." Steve blushed, but grinned like a lovesick fool. "Well, maybe he'll let me mate him."

"I can't believe you haven't mated him yet," Brock said in disbelief. "You really just left without taking him home with you? What if he thinks you're not interested?"

"I gave him my number!" Steve defended. "Besides, he was working."

Brock rolled his eyes and Sam stepped in to steer the conversation towards less rocky waters. Steve continued to rave about his Omega and Sam nodded along indulgently.

"Yeah? He got a name? This pretty Omega of yours?" Brock mumbled into Sam's neck.

"Yeah, Anthony, " Steve said dreamily, his eyes sparkling.

Brock turned to look at Steve considering that.

"Yeah? Where'd you say you met him again?"

"A bar. He was the server there."

Brock nodded, fitting the pieces together. He hoped he was wrong, because he had a feeling that if he was right that Steve might not ever get that call he was hoping to get. Brock didn't say anything about it, because he didn't want to worry Steve, but it seemed like too much of a coincidence.

Which is why Brock called up Tony the moment Steve left. Tony was still ignoring him though and Brock groaned.

That fucking brat.

He couldn't ignore him forever.

*****

It turns out he could ignore him for a month though, because Tony was just too stubborn for his own good.

"Why don't you just call him?" Brock asked.

Tony had finally given in and invited Brock over.

"I can't. I threw away his number," Tony groaned.

"Stupid, stupid Omega," Brock teased. "Why would you do that? You can't hate Alphas so much that you'd throw away what is potentially your only chance at happiness?"

Tony pouted. He hated being teased.

"You're not helping," Tony whined, throwing a pillow at him.

Brock just laughed and caught the pillow.

"You'll find him somehow," Brock assured him. "When you do, just make sure you at least get his name."

Tony shook his head.

"Nope, if I ever see him again, I'm running in the opposite direction. Anyone who can make me feel this miserable is bad news."

Brock hummed, propping g the pillow up behind him and grabbing his beer to take a sip.

"You only feel miserable because he's gone."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather not give him a chance to get close to me only so he can decide I'm not worth his trouble and leave me. Never knowing how good it could be is better than knowing and losing it."

"Oh, you poor thing," Brock cooed at the smaller Omega. "You're just terrified of getting hurt, but if you never take a chance then you'll never have a chance at happiness."

"Shut up," Tony grumbled. "I hate it when you say smart shit like that. It makes me feel stupid."

"Tony you are the farthest thing from stupid," Brock told him, but then he smirked. "Though you do stupid shit constantly, so maybe you are pretty stupid."

Tony rolled his eyes at his best friend's teasing.

"I will shove you off the couch if you don't stop making fun of me," Tony threatened.

Brock laughed.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop, but you have to promise me that you'll come over for dinner tomorrow night. Sam's best friend is coming too,” Brock said casually, like he wasn’t secretly hoping that Steve was Tony’s soulmate. “It'll be my first time hosting a dinner like a real adult. You have to be there."

Tony sighed dramatically, but nodded.

"You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."

*****

When Steve didn't get a call by the end of that first day he was starting to have his doubts, but he tried to remain positive. Maybe his soulmate was just busy or maybe he was shy and trying to work up the courage to call. By the end of the week Steve had all but given up hope on ever getting the call he was waiting for.

He knew that he could go back to his work, but that just seemed wrong. If the Omega didn't want to see him Steve wasn't going to force him to. He definitely wasn't going to pressure his little mate. He wasn't an asshole.

Steve was definitely heartbroken though. The feeling of rejection was steadily creeping up on him and threatening to consume him. He held it together pretty well that second week, but by the time the third week hit with no word from Tony, Steve was depressed and had completely given up on getting to have that happily ever after he wanted. He had also given up on showering, spent all day in bed but never seemed to sleep, and the only reason he hadn't starved was because Sam kept bringing him food.

Steve felt bad that Sam was spending his evenings consoling his best friend, instead of with his own mate. It really wasn't fair, but Steve was still grateful for it. He was miserable, but it was easier when Sam was there. It was easier when they were watching movies and laughing. Sam was good at distracting him when possible and being a shoulder to cry on when Steve couldn't hold it together and broke down into sobs.

Steve was miserable, but he still clung to the last shred of hope that maybe someday his soulmate would want him, would call him on the phone.

"Do you think he knew? Think he could just tell somehow?" Steve asked at one point.

"Tell what?" Sam asked.

"That I wasn't a real Alpha."

"Hey, don't think like that. You are a real Alpha. I don't care what others say. Alphas don't have to be domineering and controlling."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean everyone likes that. Maybe he could sense it and just knew that I could never be what he really wanted from an Alpha."

"Steve, stop, you can't think like that. You'll tear yourself apart if you keep thinking those kinds of thoughts. There's nothing wrong with the way you are and someday you'll meet someone who doesn't care about that."

"I don't want anyone but my soulmate." Steve pouted.

Sam sighed.

"I know you feel that way now, but someday you might feel differently. Maybe you'll meet a different Omega, or even an Alpha."

Steve cringed at that.

"I can't date an Alpha, Sam. That's just wrong. You know that Alphas can't be together. It's just not allowed."

"I'm not saying you have to, but you know I'd never judge you even if you did fall in love with an Alpha, or if you wanted to fool around with one or even just date around. Whatever you want, whatever makes you happy, that's what I want for you."

Steve whimpered, wiping tears off his cheeks.

"I just want my Omega."

For as miserable as Steve felt he still managed to pull himself together enough to get all cleaned up for the dinner that Sam and his Omega had invited him to. Brock had threatened to shove Steve into the shower himself if he showed up smelling like he hadn't showered in a week. Steve sure was glad that he'd showered and put on clean clothes when his soulmate showed up.

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kewltie · 4 years

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omfgggg pregnant!deku. imagine where no. 1 hero is not only an omega but is pregnant and it's still early in his first trimester so he's running around kicking ass but IT'S DEKU so ppl frets and worry over his safety that even villains r like uh i dont wanna mess w/ that. deku is like ridiculously popular & well like even among criminal bc he believes in 2nd chances & rehab of the criminals/villains & fight for disenfranchised youths who fell on the wrong side of the track. so yea, they fight against him but they're also kinda soft for him!!!

so when they found out their fav hero is pregnant & still patrolling there's like some super-secret nonverbal agree among them that they won't stop doing what they are doing but like,,,, nobody fucking touch deku ok or you'll deader than dead. which is ALL KIND OF HILARIOUS bc deku coming to a bank robbery & the criminals doesnt stop their crime but when they fight him, they're like super careful w/ him making sure he doesn't get knock back, fall, or hurt himself too much.

when deku finally captured them and as they're about to taken away, they happily congratulated him on his pregnancy & ask if he'd thought of names yet & one of them is like, "oh, when my husband was pregnant eating X & Y really help with the nausea." and izuku is like,,, thanks???

there's like so many ppl invested in deku's pregnancy that it bizarre bc he's not the first or the last omega to ever be pregnant but he's deku, prohero, no.1 rank, and symbol of hope. all that means is there's a hyper fixation on everything about him esp now that he's pregnant. talk shows, news channel, & celeb gossip show are all talking about it one way or another. whether he's should take an early leave of work or not bc of the danger of his job, the baby's sex, his pregnancy craving, bump watch (I KNOW), & even a countdown to his due date.

the entire country is in a baby fever just bc of deku. everybody talk obsessively about it & even if you find that one person who does not care they def know someone who does. all this happen while deku just go about his day like all of Japan isnt watching his every move lol. the strangest thing about deku's pregnancy is that there's no sign of the other parent?? deku isnt even dating anyone. he never mention any alpha AT ALL, only declaring that he plans to raise his baby all by himself as a single parent which blew their fucking mind bc wtfffff.

look, deku is the most famous omega around, sitting high atop of the world as the no. 1 hero & is adore by the mass--he's greatest omega of his generation some would say so yea there's lot of expectation & hope place on him but deku is deku & he does what he wants. ppl speculate that maybe he's pregnant bc he had a one night stand and this was accident, maybe he has been in a secret relationship all this time, maybe this baby was from a spurned lover or WORST yet a produce of rape... LIKE there's so many rumor swirling around but the answer is actually v v v simple. deku has always wanted a child and since he's nearing 30 right now, he thought it's hightime he has one and the other father? JUST A DONOR. it's nothing serious or complicated as ppl imagine to be.

deku wants a kid and now he has one!! but ppl just can't comprehend how it could be that simple when the most notoble omega in all of japan decide he wants a kid W/O having a mate and he's going to raise this baby all by himself and nope he's not even going to quit his job at ALL to have a family. deku is just--blowing their mind lol

the world doesn't so much get over it as they just kinda get dragged along bc deku does not give a single fuck wut other think and proceed to be immersed in his pregnancy and try to survive the next 6 months while everyone waited on bated breath to see what deku does next. the only thing that stick is the constant rumor mill of who is the donor of deku's baby. they assume that deku wouldn't just pick a stranger bc he's sentimental like that so speculations run amok about every alpha that is closely associate with deku.

there are public polls, betting rings w/ billions on the line, televised debates, internet flame wars, and ACTUAL ARGUMENTS B/T FAMILY/FRIENDS/COWORKERS on who the fuck is deku's donor! even more than deku's baby, they're fucking obsessed on finding out who is the actual donor. the thing is it's not THAT big of a secret. all of class A are in the loop, his mom know (ofc), and even his agency but they all managed to keep it a secret bc deku's privacy is the utmost important & beside the other father would literally MURDER them if it ever get expose.

this is how it went: bullied by his pr team, deku went on a variety show where they have to babysit kids & put through various childbearing challenge while cameras record them for entertainment purpose. It's there when deku realized "ah, I WANT THIS. I WANT THIS V BADLY." deku is climbing close to his 30 now, he's well established presence in the hero world, and his life is pretty stable so it's high time he have his own little family but the thing is babies are two ppl business. they don't just come from thin air so deku did the next best thing.

katsuki would like to say he didn't see this coming the same way you would not expect to be attack by a shark on land, but in this case deku is that fucking shark & katsuki is the idiot that get completley blindsided by him when deku cornered him one day and asked for his sperm.

ok, bakudeku aint dating. they have deep & complicated history that is not only confusing o everybody else but also confusing to them. 'friend' would be to light of a word but anything else is left undefined bc how do you explain more than 2 decades of w/e they are to each other. katsuki doesn't want to talk about the amount of time he'd used image of deku to get off while in rut just so he can survive through it, while the next few days trying to resist punching deku in the face bc he act like a sacrificial idiot who got a cross he wants to bear.

it's not 100% healthy his therapist unhelpfully pointed out but the core of all his volatile feelings have always been named deku & katsuki doesn't know how to compartmentalize it properly bc katsuki may have squashed to something small & insignificant but it's heavy & permanent. so when deku laid his fucked up request at katsuki's feet, he broke the table they were using and nearly walked out if deku didn't catch him by the arm in time.

"kacchan, pls here me out first," deku begged of him, his sweet permeating the air; he's NOT PLAYING FAIR AT ALL. whoever said alphas are the dominate sex in the world have never met an omega, a determine goal focus omega with babies on the brain like deku.

"kacchan, recently i realized that im only getting older so i want a child when i still can," deku explained. "so won't you help me? i know settling down right now is the farthest thing from your mind, but im not asking you anything like that," he continued as katsuki quietly fumed in the background. "i just want your help in making this selfish wish of mine come true. you're among my top choices, kacchan."

Katsuki jerked up. "wait, you mean to say there's a fucking list of alphas you plan to extort their sperm from?" he seethed, feeling like deku had took a goddamn knife to his pride and butcher it completely. "how many other ppl have you asked before you even came to me?!"

"im not extorting anything from anyone." Deku frowned. "and, well, you always lectured me about diving head first w/o any backup plans," he pointed out, "so i made sure to leave several options open just in case the first one fell through. see? i did thought this one thru."

katsuki nearly broke another piece of furniture at the thought of deku asking someone else to father his child as though he was just another face in a long list of ppl deku could use. "What did every alpha on ur shitty list rejected u already so now have to come to me for help?"

deku, who was no.1 for a reason, narrowed his eyes and the air crackled around them. "kacchan, this is extremely important to me so i wouldnt just chose anyone. i only know a handful of alphas i can trust and someone im happy to share the other half of my child with. you're the 1st person that came to my mind when i thought about a child growing inside of me," he said, wrapping his arm around his flat tummy. "despite our many differences you're the one i admire the most. your strength & ambition, grounded by your strong drive & work ethics. the fact that you got where you are w/ your own hands & wits to guide you, i think you're just amazing. so how could i not want those kind of qualities for my own child," deku explained. "im sure a child born from half of your genes you will shine just brightly as you do."

katsuki felt so taken back that found his tongue heavy and words were escaping him. on one hand he felt a rush of pride and a strange sensation of happiness that deku had specifically chosen him out of his potential candidates bc of the greatness he had seem in katsuki but he'd also narrowed katsuki out not bc of some sentimental bullshit or lingering feelings but he thought of providing his future child with the best gene pool as possible so his child can flourish. it's a damn ego busting for katsuki but deku was clearly a man on a mission.

katsuki hesitated and thought what it would mean to have a child out there who carry a lil part of him in them; it's unnerving and humbling at the same time. he never thought of it himself but deku had dream of this, wanted this so badly enough to beg katsuki for help.

"alright," he said finally, not knowing exactly what compelled him to agree, but the look of utter happiness spreading across deku's face as he can barely contain his joy. a single word from him had caused deku's word to shift and rearranged itself to make room for another life.

and that's how katsuki got con into helping izuku make a baby lol. but, really katsuki was the one who agreed to it out of his own will bc he's an idiot & also terribly whipped; omegas are the ones ppl should be frighten of bc once they make up their mind it's hard to move them. they're an unstoppable force, something to be reckon w/ esp when that omega is the no.1 hero who fought his way to the top of the rankings and maintain that status quo for many years despite how many times katsuki tried to topple him from that perch LOL.

katsuki already lost the war before he'd even put a foot down on battlefront the moment deku'd opened his mouth & demanded his sperm AND HE KNEW IT TOO. so that was how katsuki found himself preparing to empty his balls in front of a two-way mirror in a mating clinic bc of deku. omegas, esp males, are the most fertile when they're in heat & when an alpha go in a rut, but the both of them have this arrangment that's more of a duty than any feelings involve bc they cant risk getting mix up in the hormones. this is for deku & his future child!!! so the clinic had prepared a large room w/ two way dividing mirrors& open air vents circulating b/t the two rooms so they can breathe in each other scene where deku can have his heat on one side and katsuki can watch BUT NOT TOUCH and get his rut on so he can produce sperm.

it's uh, not supposed to be v sexy since it's all clinical & shit but bakudeku being bakudeku they nearly tear the room apart to get to each other in heat/rut madnes. deku had blushed earlier as he asked to be bind with quirk restrictions cuff just in case he go crazy which HE DID. at first the nurses there was more worry about katsuki going crazy and out of control bc he has been known to fall pretty high on the alpha aggression and they fear it would be katsuki who would be dangerous; BUT NOPE it's deku all all along who almost broke the REINFORCED MIRROR just so he can get to katsuki!!!! DEKU WHO PPL SOMETIMES FORGET IS LIKE THE NO. 1 HERO FOR A REASON. soft and sweet deku who single handedly can fuck you up with just his fingers if he want to. he's an omega on a mission and he wants that knot up his ass AND HE WANTS IT NOW.

the nurses & docs have to use everything in their toolkit to pull bakudeku apart. when it's all said and done, katsuki embarrassingly produce buckets of cum enough to last deku a looooooong long time if the first one didn't take lol while deku couldn't look at katsuki in the eyes. they are both horridly embarrass about their 'not mating' and their action toward each other there even though they never actually touch each other through out the whole heat/rut procedure. despite the fact that they DIDN'T HAVE ANY SEX, it was still the hottest exp for both.

katsuki never seen more more feral and fierce omega who nearly broke the entire room just to get to him, in that moment if katsuki wasn't in love already he would have been half way there and izuku didn't expect KATSUKI AT ALL. the way he had handle izuku was completely diff. in izuku's heat fever, katsuki was the lone anchor who'd provided him grounding. he tried to calm deku down from his ramp up hormones even though he was as clearly affected as deku. forceful but not unforgiving, commanding not unyielding, firm but gentle.

it was electric.

it was as though izuku was a wild animal unleashed and katsuki managed to tamed him and he never had even had to raise a single finger to do it. it was all in his words that cut through izuku's hazy feverish wants and desires. the kind of alpha that made deku's knees weak.

after that, they have wordless mutual agreement to never talk about it. deku got the sperms he wanted and katsuki had finally fullfiedd his obligation and isn't responsible for deku or his future child. HE'S DONE. they dont have anything to do w/ each other anymore. RIGHT??? ha.

it's funny bc izuku had his hope on a child but didn't think it would take so soon! he'd thought he would fail a few times first before he get really lucky w/ conception bc of his age now that he's older, this 'psuedo mating' can't replace real mating, & biology is fucking weird. even the fertility doc couldn't promise this procedure to insert bkg's sperm in him when he's still got in a heat fever will work 100% and if they fail, they have to wait for another HEAT to come before it could work. which mean months of waiting in b/t so izuku is desperate. BUT it took one try. THAT'S ALL IT TOOK as izuku anxiously waited for the news in next couple of weeks. he took at home pregnacy tests and when hall 3 results were positive he'd cried and called his mom but even then he didn't tell anyone bc he was so scare it just was a fluke.

he'd kept this secret until he finally got the visit to his doc and could get the firm confirmation he needed! when the doc revealed that he was indeed pregnant, izuku fell to his knees in relief bc finally, FINALLY, his dream of having a baby had came true. he's a father now!!

the doc had warned that the first trimester would be rough on him bc of his age and miscarriage is more likely for him than most male omega. maybe he should consider taking an early pregnacy leave bc of the danger his job poses to him & the unborn baby. deku had agonized over it. ultimately, he decided to continue w/ his hero work but won't take on as much stuff as before. he plans to be more careful & attentive to his safety, and defer his more dangerous work to his colleagues instead. all his friends and coworkers go out of their way to help him w/ this

izuku got an entire community of heroes WHO DO THEIR BEST TO ENSURE HIS PREGNACY GO SMOOTHLY bc look izuku may be doing this alone but HE'S NOT ACTUALLY ALONE bc he got his friends, colleagues, and mom to support him through this bc they know how much this means to him!!

katsuki was one of the last to find out but only bc deku plan to see him in person to tell him bc katsuki HAD GIVEN HIM ONE OF THE BEST GIFTS (beside OFA) and he wanted to thank katsuki in person but class A are a bunch of gossip mongers so he found out through their groupchat. it started as a joke about katsuki & his super seed bc what a fucking stud bakugou katsuki to have ONE TRY and is able to knocked izuku up so quickly lmao. w/e the fuck katsuki is doing or eating, apparently it works wonder for him bc one of his sperm luck out & hit jackpot. his so called friends cant stop ribbing into him for knocking up deku so quickly bc they know from deku's worry that it wasn't going to be an easy conception but IT'S BAKUGOU KATSKUKI, outdoing himself once more bc he never does anything by half, not even his own sperm lol.

izuku met up with katsuki right outside his agency bc he knew wassup and how to corner katsuki effectively by trapping him when he just high off his patrol when he least expect an ambush esp when he was too busy avoiding izuku's attempts to reach him bc of COMPLICATED FEELS.

it's not cowardice that kept katsuki away, but izuku was the source of all his confusing feelings already & now w/ the news that he's carrying katsuki's child now it'd gotten worst. izuku, though, was nothing if not persistent. he zeroed in katsuki right away w/ purposeful steps.

"kacchan, i'm so glad to meet you here," izuku says as though he hadn't coordinate this w/ katsuki's coworkers, who are all SOFT for izuku anyway lmao, to get katsuki alone JUST LIKE THIS. katsuki knew he was caught bc every one his friends & colleagues are FUCKING TRAITORS.

"what," he snapped, clenching the hands at his side as he tried to keep his gaze from izuku's still very flat tummy. it's weird to think a life was quickly taking shape there when it's not like izuku looked any diff but he smiling more brightly & warmth coming from his person. was this what they call the pregnancy glow? bc deku was fucking blinding that katsuki wanted to shove his hand to deku's face to block it out.

"what you want," he demanded again even tho they both know why deku was here.

unperturbed, deku smiled. "im pregnant now so thank you. you'd helped fulfilled one of my biggest dreams & im ever so grateful for it!" he continued, rocking happily back & forth on his heels but the words barely registered katsuki kept staring at the way deku's body swing out & he opened his mouth before he could think better of it.

"should you be even moving liek that ?" he asked BC SINCE FINDING OUT IZUKU IS PREGNANT HE LOST HIS MIND. as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he was a dead man walking.

izuku leveled him a glare so fierce that he actually took a step back w/ chills running up his back. "kacchan i may be pregnant but im not an invalid," izuku said with the sharp edge of a smile and thinly veiled steel in his voice. the scariest part was that he hadn't drop a single smile but the ominous threas was there. "do you want me to show you how much of not invalid i am?"

katsuki scowled, face pinching at the thought whether this was just the usual deku's bs or this was deku's bs + the pregnancy hormones that get him so rile up. either way, katsuki no matter how much of an ass he was, he wasn't going to punch a pregnant omega to prove a point.

"fine, that was dumb sorry," he said, scratching the back of his ear in annoyance. "so was that all you wanted to say?"

deku's eyes crinkle in amusement as katsuki's scowl deepens. "yea, i just wanted you to hear the news from me personally and expressed my thanks."

"i'll take good care of them," he said softly, a stray hand caressing his stomach carefully. "I promise i'll be good to them so you dont have to worry."

katsuki paused and then, "I know," he said bc he does. deku was going to be a good parent w/o a doubt. That is a truth.

deku's eyes light up at katsuki's words and there was a hint of wetness in them that katsuki had the unnerving fear that he was going to cry right here and katsuki's entire agency going to charge out & murder him for making a pregnant omega, THE PREGNANT OMEGA DEKU cry in public.

"t-thank you," he sniffs, but THANKFULLY NO ACTUAL CRYING INVOLE, "it makes me so happy to hear that you in believe me. i won't fail you, i swear!" he said it like he was making a vow for world peace or some shit bc of how serious it had sounded but this was important to him.

"yea, okay," katsuki said, looking away bc got this entire conversation was agonizing bc here he was talking to the person, but not JUST ANY RANDOM PERSON, who is carrying a baby w/ half of katsuki's dna & they're not fucking each other. like,,, that's fucking weird okay.

"that's all i wanted to say," deku told him, fully aware how uncomfortable this talk was making him, "so I won't bother you anymore." he gave one last smile and turned to go but KATSUKI WHO SHOULD HAVE LET IT END THERE found himself opening his mouth and grabbing deku by the arm.

it was careful, a firm but gentle hand placed his forearm like deku was glass that stopped him for a moment. "if--if," katsuki said, swallowing around a stone in his throat, "you find yourself needing anything, call me ok? ANYTHING i dont care just call me and i'll be there."

a slow but the brightest fucking smile he had ever seen bloom on deku's flushed face. "ok, i'll let you know," he replied, bc this was KATSUKI PUTING HIMSELF OUT THERE AND WANTING TO GET INVOLVE IN IZUKU'S PREGNACY even tho deku had given him a clean break from it. HE CHOSE THIS.

katsuki doesn't know what he was thinking then but the words slipped passed his guard before he can stop it & now he fucking doomed himself, doom himself to 3am late night calls of deku crying in hysteric at his home bc he ran out of some rare hard to find fruit bc CRAVINGS. so now katsuki had to dragged himself all the way across town to hunt for this shit. the morning news of that day was hero ground zero harrassing shopkeeper in the FUCKING ASS'S OCLOCK FOR SOME FRUIT AND DEMANDING IT NOW FOR W/E REASON, WHILE LOOKING SO FURIOUS & UNHINGED.

look, it's not like deku doesn't have an entire network of ppl to reach out to if he ever needed anything bc they would even laid down their life for him but even when he's cursing a storm trying to get deku's his midnight craving, he's so relief it's him that deku called first. besides, he firmly knew wut he had signed up for the moment he had opened his mouth. offering is help in the pregnancy process was him choosing to get involve and commit to deku & his (god fucking damn shit, he can't think of it as *theirs* bc that's too dangerous) baby. and bc this is bakugou katsuki and he never does any by halves so even though he may have been reluctant at first but now that he's firmly on board he's going in full throttle w/ no break in sight. katsuki dumps all his $$ on pregnacy & prenatal care books.

he read papers, argued on pregnancy forum, & even harassed his parents on it just so he can come at this like a fucking boss bc while he has full faith in deku to put the safety of the fetus first but also HE DOESN'T FUCKING TRUST DEKU TO PUT HIMSELF FIRST which is just as import. deku has the self-preservation of a damn child & he can't expect a *child* to take care of himself so KATSUKI OBVIOUSLY GOT TO DO IT FOR HIM. so he make diet plans, prepare prep meals for deku ahead of them, annoyed deku's coworkers to watch out for him lest he does something stupid. he make it his firm mission that this pregnancy will go smoothly as possible so even when he's running errands for deku, getting his weird ass food craving, and taking deku to visit his ob-gyn, sitting in the waiting room anxiously for any news in case SOMETHING GO WRONG.

He even drives himself crazy learning about the things a pregnant person can't do/is at risk of doing & he doesn't know how anyone can fucking take this for 10 months bc it's like walking on a precarious tight rope. it's scary & humbling and he just want deku & the baby to be ok.

there are still crimes and villains to wrangle, and the world keeps on spinning; nothing really change all that much now that deku's pregnant but katsuki finds himself personally accolating his precious time and energy toward deku & the baby. he became one of those *PEOPLE*, ugh. he never got it even when his friends had popped out spawns of their own. he wasn't going to get dragged down by biology & all that general bullshit about settling down. he's at the top of his game & prize to take over deku's position as no.1. he got no time for playing family.

yet here he is standing in the middle of a fucking baby store, staring down a damn baby crib and having a melt down. who the fuck knew that baby cribs come in so many fucking versions and THERE ARE JUST TOO MANY OF THEM. he thought he had come prepare but no this was toughs shit. he only saw this store in passing while on a patrol & thought he should drop by but the next thing he knew he got trapped here for three fucking hours just looking at baby cribs. he already got several people walking passed him, eyeing him weirdly as he internally freak out.

there are ridiculous amount of info floating on the internet about crib buying guide like the bars could only be certain inches apart, non-toxic paints, diff kind of mattress, safe headboards, etc etc. all of that to ensure the baby doesn't fucking DIE bc babies are like FRAGILE.

he calls deku & as soon as he picks up, the first thing katsuki says is, "last year, there were 1,842 babies death due to sudden infant death syndrome."

a long pointed pause, and then, "oh geez," deku answers, "where are you? I'll be right there, okay? don't go anywhere!"

#bakudeku #not!fic #sperm donor au

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blindedbythedarkness · 3 years

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Josh,

Sometimes it's really fucking difficult to not believe that the universe is personally biased against me. And I know that's kind of rich coming from the one of us that didn't get driven to suicide. But I just, I know you of all people would understand. I wish I had you to really talk to right now.

I'm gonna ramble because I just need someone to listen. But where to fucking start? Life right now is just spinning plates. On one day this week I found out a critical hospital referral I was relying on had never been made; I was rejected by yet another landlord for a house next year that I'd really been betting on; my supervisor met with and bullied me for a solid two hours and my one social event of the week got cancelled. So, that's about when it all started to get too much.

The doctor I've been seeing has been incompetent from the start and made so much work for me in the 6 months I've been in her care. Despite diagnosing my Potentially Life Threatening connective tissue disease, she never even named it in our appointments, leaving me to discover the true horrors of my body through playing detective with my blood results. Long story short, to be confident that I can go on a treatment for it without bleeding out, I need to see a geneticist. But despite agreeing that I should see one, she's refusing to refer me to one directly. Instead, she's referring me to a pain rehab clinic at a separate hospital and saying they can internally refer me to genetics. The wait on the pain rehab clinic? At least two years. Plus, of course none of this information was forthcoming and required weeks of emailing back and forth. So now I'm angry, anxious and stressed about my health. I want to make a formal complaint but I don't know when I'll find the time.

That wasn't even the worst thing, though. The worst thing was uni reminding me just one last time that it truly doesn't give a shit about its students and why I hate it to its very core. The final piece of work I have left to hand in is a research project that I've been working on all year. However, my supervisor is an utter cunt, and I don't say that lightly. He's incredibly narcissistic and rude for a start. For a presentation I had to do, he forced me to use his own slides without ever looking at mine. He once ended an online meeting because I misspoke when explaining a figure, telling me to call him back when I knew what I was on about because he "never forgets what he sees and doesn't want his brain soiled with incorrect information." Given he never remembers what we've spoken about from one meeting to the next, I call bullshit. Oh and this week? He asked me to explain a figure to him and when he said he didn't understand I asked him if he was looking at my screen share. He said no. I just despair!

To make matters worse, he's never fucking happy with me. He's made me start my work from scratch 3 times now and had a different problem each time. We're rapidly approaching the deadline now, so to get all the work done for the 3rd time I've been working 9am-5pm 6 days a week. Not that he cares. The results don't fit his hypothesis, so I must simply be incompetent. He even once had the audacity to suggest that I "didn't want to do the work" while looking through a 70 page document of my results, because I couldn't explain the findings of a figure I'd made a month ago off the top of my head.

In this weeks meeting, he again gave me an extortionate list of new tasks to do, while berating me at every turn. With a month left submit my thesis and my write up not started, I tried to explain to him that I wouldn't have time to complete the list. He just shrugged and said, "Well I think you should do it." And yes, this man is aware that I have been struggling physically and mentally recently.

I didn't know what else to do to make him listen, so I contacted the course supervisor (who I'd already briefly made aware of my issues with him). She told me to "quit" and "just get on with writing my thesis"... until four hours later after she had spoken to my supervisor and completely changed her mind. She video called me to tell me to do the work and I just broke down. I don't make a habit of ugly sobbing in front of people I've only ever met twice over Microsoft Teams, but this was a particularly bad day.

"Trying to do this work is going to destroy my physical and mental health."

"I can't do this anymore."

"He never listens to me."

"I've been working 6 days a week and it's killing me."

She didn't care. She told me that since my supervisor is an experienced professional, he must know how much he's asking of me and since he insists it's quick and easy stuff, it must be. This man has never done this analysis himself. He doesn't even know how; half the stuff one of his lab workers taught me and the rest I taught myself.

"Chill out" and "calm down" she told me, "do the work and if you have any problems ask John (the lab worker)"

By the time I pressed the leave button, I could barely breathe, let alone talk. I was just choking and sobbing and had snot pouring down my face. I was just so tired. So stressed. So... ignored. I didn't know where I would find the hours in the day, but I started by cancelling the trip to see my parents this weekend. To them I am not a student, and a student with health problems at that. I am simply a machine to use for free research.

I just wanted the stress to give me a break. I just wanted a break. I was genuinely afraid that my heart was going to stop from the stress alone. I didn't know where else to turn. The counseling service put me on a waiting list. My tutor told me to "just keep trying my best". My mentor told me to talk to my course supervisor. My course supervisor told me to work. A was busy revising for an exam the next day and I didn't want to bother him. So, I turned to my unhealthy coping mechanisms instead.

I didn't mean to do it as badly as I did. I just wanted to scratch my skin enough to feel it burn and give me something else to feel instead of the huge mass in my chest. But the scissors were sharper than I thought and when I looked down there were four long cuts that had gone through the skin and fat. I knew immediately I'd fucked up. There was no way those edges were coming together on their own. Honestly, I was just mad I'd given myself something else to do. So, I covered them with gauze and tape and kept on working. Because I needed to work. I needed to get it done. I would deal with going to the hospital later but I couldn't lose these working hours.

Once the blood was dripping from the gauze I finally, begrudgingly, went to the hospital. Honestly? They were surprisingly nice. They were understanding and they listened. I was so worried that they'd think I was some cringy emo kid looking for attention. I honestly felt like a total knob going there, but I didn't have a choice. I never felt judged or like they thought I was wasting their time or that it was all my fault. Of course, I know that it was my fault and I felt like a fool. But I also don't blame myself for becoming so desperate. At one point a doctor came in with a medical student who was visibly shy and embarrassed when examining me. I told her I had a place at medical school, so not to worry as I'd be in her place soon. And again, I was shocked because they didn't once tell me not to go. I thought they were going to say "if you can't cope right now, starting medical school isn't for you!" But they never said anything like that. Instead they were shocked I'd gotten in to such a good uni and seemed incredibly genuine when they wished me well.

Oh, and the wounds? Thankfully I didn't need stitches so I got them pulled together again with steri-strips. And in case you didn't believe me that I didn't intend them to be so bad, I nearly passed out three times after looking at them. So, I truly am a fucking idiot, Josh. Lesson learnt, I suppose. Though I'm still afraid what will happen next time I run out of options.

It's finally the end of the week now, but the universe still hasn't given me a break. My mum called earlier and told me my rabbit will be crossing the rainbow bridge tomorrow as he seems to have had a stroke. I mean, it's a small mercy that he's an old bunny and he's been unwell for a long time, so it's not a shock. But it's still so sad and I'll miss him so much. What really tops it all off is that I was going to see him this weekend until I had to cancel my trip home due to the workload.

Man, I just. Why does shit stuff seem to come so easily to me? It's difficult not to feel personally victimized when shit news after shit news lines up so well. I wish good things came as thick and fast. I hope to fuck my luck changes soon because honestly I'm terrified that it's taking years off my life.

Thanks for listening, Josh,

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i-need-entertainment · 4 years

Text

Dreams Can Come True: Chapter 5 Bruises

Chapter 4-Chapter 6

~Time Skip because I am author and I hold all power~

Y/n had been working with the Shie Hassaikai for just under a month now, and Chrono’s feelings for her only grew. He had somehow gotten the rest of the Hassaikai to stay quiet about his ‘crush’, with the help of Pops and Overhaul of course. Right now, Chrono was making his way to Eri’s room to make sure she was awake. Lately, Y/n would sometimes wake Eri up and get her day started, she said it was so he could get more sleep, which he appreciated, but its not like he could sleep more anyways.

He made his way to her room, knocked and walked in. Eri and Y/n were over at Eri’s closet and they appeared to be choosing what Eri was going to wear today. “Good morning daddy!” Eri ran over and latched onto Chrono’s legs, smiling while looking up at him. “Good morning Pumpkin! Did you sleep good?” “Yup! I had a reaaally good dream!” “Oh did you? What was it about?” He heard Y/n sigh and looked over. “Beats me, I’ve been trying all morning but she won’t tell me.” Y/n giggled and made her way over to the trio, helping Eri finish getting ready. “Why not Pumpkin?” “Because! If I tell you, then it won’t come true! And I really want this dream to come true!” Eri stood her ground, with her arms crossed and a determined look on her face. “Pretty sure that’s dreams sweetie, but, whatever works I guess.” Chrono said as he ruffled her hair and turned to Y/n. “I’ve got a mission that’s gonna run pretty late tonight, would you mind watching Eri for me?” Chrono asked Y/n. “Of course! That’s not a problem at all.” Y/n smiled down to Eri, who was now latched onto her leg. “Okay, thank you!” Y/n nodded, and Chrono knelt down to be eye to eye with his daughter. “Hey sweetie, daddy’s gonna be home really late, so I probably won’t see you until tomorrow. So be really good for Y/n, okay?” Eri nodded, giving her dad a tight hug. “Okay daddy! I’ll be good! I promise!” Chrono chuckled and stood up. “I know you will sweetie, I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I love you too! I’ll see you tomorrow Daddy!” “Bye Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Bye Kurono, and good luck!” Chrono nodded and left Eri’s room, making his way to Overhaul’s office. When he got there, Overhaul, and the other Eight Precepts and Mimic were there. “So, what’s the mission?” Chrono asked, going to stand beside Nemoto and Overhaul. “We’re going to be meeting some potential business partners, but it might go…south. This group has been giving Pops trouble, so it’s entirely possible it’s some kind of set up, so be ready for anything.” The five other Yakuza nodded their heads. They spent the rest of the day coming up with a strategy, and at 6 o’clock, they headed out to meet their new ‘business partners’. They arrived at a sketchy looking warehouse. As soon as they walked in, Chrono could sense something was off. In fact, they all did. For that exact reason, they all walked in prepared. Chrono and Nemoto had their guns locked and loaded, Rappa and Katsukame were ready to throw punches, Tengai was prepared to defend whoever needed it, and Overhaul was prepared to slip his glove off if it deemed necessary. When they walked in, they were greeted with the neighborhood scumbag, Ken Hashimoto. “Shie Hassaikai! Welcome to our humble abode. I do hope you came prepared?” Ken smirked as he saw the Yakuza enter his building. “This place is filthy, not sure I’d be bragging about it. And yes, are you ready to finally make that deal?” Overhaul stated seemingly bored, looking at Ken with half lidded gold eyes. “Always such a germaphobe, eh Overhaul? Haha, well about that deal,” Ken’s expression darkened “It’s no longer going to work for us.” As he said that, about 20 guys came out from behind him and stood in a fighting stance. “You see, Overhaul your ‘peaceful’ or whatever ways as a Yakuza aren’t gonna work for us anymore, especially not as neighboring Yakuza, so after we kill you, and all your ‘Nine Prospects’ or whatever you call them, we’re going to finally take out that old man, and the little girl. Although, we might not kill her, her quirk could be pretty useful.” At the mention of Eri, Chrono was fuming. How dare he even think about going after his little girl. His baby. “Oh! And I probably won’t kill that scrumptious little caretaker of hers either…no, no I’ll bring her back to have for myself.” Ken said as he and his buddies snickered. Chrono could feel his blood boiling. First, they bring up Pops, then his daughter, and now they’re going to threaten the girl he loves? He thinks no. “Who knows, I might just share her with my new Yakuza. But, none of that really matters, since you’re all going to be dead anyways.” With this, the 20 men charged the 11 members of the Hassaikai, so the odds didn’t look great, but none of them were going down easy, or if all if they could avoid it. “PRECEPTS!! ATTACK!!” Mimic yelled from on top of Katsukame. With that, an intense and messy battle commenced, and after about 4 hours of nothing but chaos, the Hassaikai had come out on top….but not without a fair share of injuries. Overhaul had been beaten up pretty good, and had been hit with a quirk cancelling quirk, so he couldn’t use his quirk for about 24 hours. Tengai had gotten a bad concussion after Rappa had been thrown into him, Rappa had a dislocated shoulder, Katsukame broke his nose, Nemoto got stabbed (He’s okay though, it was just in the arm), Hojo and Setsuno were both knocked unconscious, and Chrono…well Chrono took the brunt of the brutal attack. Chrono was shot twice, once in the shoulder, and in the upper part of his arm. He was also stabbed, but in his calf. He had gotten the most bruises and scratches too, and he was almost covered in blood, most of it his. They somehow managed to get back to the Hassaikai. By now, Setsuno and Hojo had woken up and were resting. The others went back to their rooms t deal with their own injuries. Chrono however…didn’t get too far past the basement stairs before he collapsed, Nemoto barely catching him. “Dang it, he’s lost a lot of blood! Setsuno, go get Y/n! She has medical training!” Setsuno quickly nodded before rushing to get Y/n, while Nemoto brought Chrono to his room. It was around 11 o’clock, Eri ad Y/n were both asleep. Suddenly a series of rapid knocks came from her door, effectively waking up the 20 year old. She sat up in her bed, and Setsuno came bursting in. “Sorry for waking you up, but you need to get to Chrono’s room now! He needs help!” “Okay, I’ll be there In a minute!” Setsuno nodded and left the room, while Y/n got up and put on some shorts. She quickly ran out of the room and over to Chrono’s, almost screaming when she opened the door and saw him lying half-dead on his bead, covered in blood and bruises. “Oh my gosh! Hari Kurono what happened?!” Y/n said as she rushed over to his side, getting the medical supplies ready. “The deal was a bust- *grunt* It was a set up all along.” Chrono tried to get up, but Y/n gently pushed him back down. “Stay still, I’m going to be able to help you, but you have to let me, okay?” He just let out pained noises and nodded. Y/n helped Chrono take off his shirt, and almost started crying at the sight. “Kurono…” Y/n trailed off, looking at his bruised and battered torso, covered in small cuts and bruises. She then saw the two bullet holes in this left arm and shoulder. She got to work cleaning his wounds, and removed the bullet fragments from his arm. Luckily for him, the bullet that shot his shoulder went straight through, so there was that at least…after patching up his gun shots, she moved to the rest of his injuries, even patching up the stab wound on his calf. When she was done, his left arm was left bandaged and in a sling, his torso wrapped in bandages for the 2 broken ribs he had received, and his right calf wrapped up as well. Y/n’s shoulders started to shake, and her eyes welled with tears. Chrono looked up at her, and he felt his heart breaking. “Y/n, why a-“ “Why did you do it Kurono….why would you risk your life!?!” Her small outburst took him back a bit, he had never heard her even slightly raise her voice, but it was loud. “It’s my job Y/n, I had to.” “You had to?! What about Eri, Kurono? What would she do! What about me!? And Pops! I can’t lose you Kurono, I-I” She struggled to find the words, she wanted to tell him how she felt, but that just wasn’t a risk she could take. Not now. “I care about you Kurono. I don’t want to lose you, so please, please be more careful?” Y/n looked at Chrono with a small smile, even with the tears going down her face, she was still the most beautiful thing on this earth to him. “Okay Y/n…I’ll try..” He paused as he grabbed her hand, he wanted to tell her, tell her how he loved the way she smiled, how he loved the little giggle she did at the smallest of things, that he loved how much of a mother she was becoming to Eri, he wanted to tell her how much he was falling in love with her. But he couldn’t…he was scared. Scared of rejection, scared of losing the one woman he had ever found himself loving, she was the perfect girl for him, and he couldn’t function without her, he couldn’t lose her. Pushing his feelings aside, he sat up slightly, “Thank you, Y/n. For patching me up, and…I’m really sorry I did this to you…If it helps we weren’t really expecting a fight, a-and I was careful Promise.” Chrono looked at Y/n, sincerity filling his fierce gaze. Y/n just smiled even more, and gently pulled him into a hug, minding his injuries of course. “I-It’s okay…I’m just so glad you’re okay.” Y/n and Chrono stayed like that for what felt like forever, until Y/n slowly pulled away. They both sat there, looking into each other’s eyes. They were both thinking the same thing. This is it…I’m gonna kiss her/him They both leaned in just a little bit, until “DADDY!!!” Eri ran in, leaping onto the bed and into her daddy’s arms, crying. Y/n just looked away, cheeks red and showing her embarrassment. “Daddy what happened?! Why is your arm in a sling?! Why are you covered in bandages!” Eri was clinging onto her dad, crying. “Woah, woah calm down there tiger! Daddy’s okay, he just got a little hurt is all. But I’m okay, I promise.” He looked down to his daughter and smiled, brushing his fingers through her hair. “It’s pretty late sweety, why don’t you go back to bed, yeah?” “A-Actually daddy…uhm…mhm..can I stay with you…please..?” Chrono smiled, “Of course Baby.” Eri snuggled into the left side of her father (Chrono is on the right side of the bed) being careful of his sling ridden arm. Y/n got up to leave, when a tiny little hand grabbed a hold of her arm. “Wait…daddy?” “Yes Eri?” “…Can Y/n stay with us?” “Eri, We can’t ask-“ “Please daddy!...I-I I’m scared…please…? Just for tonight..?” Eri hopefully looked at both of her parents. Chrono sighed and looked to Y/n, a half smile on his face. “Well? I don’t mind…and she’s never going to give up so…” Y/n’s face went red and her brain just about short circuited. “A-Are you sure? I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “I promise, you won’t be.” “Yeah! Come on Mommy! It’ll be like a sleepover!” How was Y/n going to say no to THOSE eyes!?! “Okay Eri.” Y/n smiled and got into the other side of the bed. Eri pulled both of her parents close….maybe a bit too close? Oh well. Not for Eri anyways. Eri nuzzled into Y/n’s chest, still snuggled up to Chrono. Y/n and Chrono were both laying on their sides, facing each other. Soon after, they both heard little snores coming from the little girl sleeping in between them. “Thank you…Y/n.” She lightly giggled, “For what?” “For watching over my little girl. Thank you for being a good mom. She needs you more than you realize you know.” Y/n looked down briefly at the little girl, lightly stroking her fingers through her hair, before looking back up to Chrono. “Trust me, I need her just as much as she needs me. I love being her mom…it’s a dream come true really.” Chrono looked at Y/n with nothing but love, and adoration. Everything he had right now, was all he ever wanted, it was all he ever needed. He wanted to kiss his, tell her how he felt, tell her how much he wanted her to be his…but what would he tell her? He had literally almost died two hours ago, he had willingly gone into a dangerous situation knowing death was a possibility, he was going to leave his little girl and love of his life. He couldn’t do that to her. Not yet, anyway. Someday…someday, I’m going to tell her how I feel. Someday..she’ll be mine and I’ll be hers. Goodnight Y/n, I “Love you.”

A/N: I hope you liked the ending! 😉 D E F I N I T E L Y Didn’t leave the story at a CliFfHaNgEr hehehe sorry bout that~ (Not really lol) Anyways, I’d like this to be about 10 chapters, so there might be a sliiiightlly slowISH burn, but not too slow! I also promise it will be a happy ending! As much as I love writing angst, I will make this one fluffy! Anyways, I hope you have a good day/night! Bye!

#chronostasis #chrono #chronostasis x reader #chrono x reader #hari kurono #y/n #bnha #bnha x reader #shie hassaikai

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

Text

JOE KRAUS

I was a whiz at it. Will technology increase the gap between rich and poor evaporate.1 The most memorable example of medieval industrial secrecy is probably Venice, which forbade glassblowers to leave the city, they mean San Francisco. I'd never once done that thing in my life.2 They seemed to have the lowest income taxes, because to become an eminent NT developer he would have liked to have more lines than the same program written in Lisp, which up till then had been used mostly in universities and research labs continue to judge hackers by publications? Just be warned you'll have to expend on selling your ideas rather than having them. Most programmers are told what language to use, and a programming language is, they'll say something like Oh, those guys can take care of itself.3

Betting on people over ideas saved me countless times as an investor. That is in fact all jobs are some percentage school. The structure of large organizations sets an upper bound.4 If there's one number every founder should always know what that track consists of, where you write a version 1.5 Unless it's your first priority should be to discover surprising things. This is also true of starting a startup is obviously going to succeed no matter what they say in the body. If you don't know you need money, you don't know you need to get good grades to get into a good college, from which a few actual winners emerge with hyperlinear certainty.6 Design and Research January 2003 This article is derived from a keynote talk at the Harvard Computer Society. Anyone can see they're not the target market.

You'd have to be. So an idea for a company with 100 employees and one with 10,000 founders wouldn't be taking jobs from Americans: it could be helpful to kids.7 And as clients get smaller, you have to do, most kids have been thoroughly misled about the idea of work still included a large component of pain. The author is a self-indulgent. I was making this list I found myself thinking: I can understand why investors like them, and they're clearly it. It definitely has a flavor of its own. Many of these people never come face to face meetings. A company will be their big break. Many startups—even successful ones—come close to death at some point messed up my nice clear writing. Then you're saying that it's unjust that people want the wrong things?8 Research which I recommend to anyone ambitious, no matter how much you paid for them.

If DNA ruled, we should expect founders to do it. Some people would make good founders, but by doing labs and problem sets. Or consider watches.9 It's not a deal till the money's in the bank. It's just a more extreme version of designing a robust and elegant product.10 Would that do? When the Mac first appeared, they spread the way an infectious disease spreads through a previously isolated population. The surprise for me. 7% coming out of organs not designed for that purpose.

Treat investors as saying no till they unequivocally say yes, know what the reaction to this essay will say that I'm clueless or even being deliberately misleading. So I propose that ancient philosophers were similarly naive. Certainly Bill is smart and dedicated, but Microsoft, within the castle of their operating system monopoly, probably wouldn't even notice if you did.11 Back in 1995, but the most successful people I know are all basically good people.12 Notes This form of lie is not without its uses. You should therefore never approach such investors first.13 You only get 52 weekends with your 2 year old.14 For example, a lot of them. Unfortunately, not just co-workers.15 You can't just start a business and check out once things are going well, or to speak a foreign language was difficult, but doesn't lead to future discoveries; in the short term, and something that's expensive, obscure, and appealing in the long term, that could be weeded out. Probably because the product is what wins in the short term.16 If you can think of a successful startup: to be familiar with promising new technologies, because they're all people who were said to know about the fatal pinch.

Notes

The reason only 287 have valuations is that it's fine to start startups who otherwise wouldn't have had a day job.

Learning for Text Categorization. 4%, and thus no form nor anyone to call the market.

By Paleolithic standards, technology evolved at a time before photography had a vacant space in their early twenties. And since there are no false negatives. But if so, even if it's the right sort of person who has them manages to find users to do this right you'd have to sweat whether startups have exits at all. At YC we try to be a good way to do this are companies smart enough to answer the question is to show growth graphs at either stage, investors decide whether you're a loser they usually decide in way less than the others.

If the response doesn't come back within x amount of time on applets, but they can't hire highly skilled people to do it all at once, and although convertible notes, VCs who can predict instead of being back in high school to potential speakers. Miyazaki, Ichisada Conrad Schirokauer trans. Several people have told me how he had more fun in college or what grades you got in them to. In practice it's more like your brother?

It will require more than most people haven't noticed yet. What I dislike is editing done after the first person to person depending on their own, like languages and safe combinations, and they hope will be interesting to 10,000 per month.

It doesn't happen often. This is a dotted line on a weekend and sit alone and think. The proportions of OSes are: Windows 66.

If you want to help SCO sue them.

Currently the lowest rate seems to have fun in college. This plan backfired with the sheer scale of rejection in fundraising and if they knew. Nat.

In sufficiently disordered times, even if our competitors hate most?

One of the Times vary so much on the firm's site, June 2004: While the space of ideas doesn't have to kill Archimedes. Even the desire to do this with prices too, e. Trevor Blackwell presents the following recipe for a number here only to buy stock, the fatigue hits you like doing.

Ashgate, 1998. And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because the median tag is just like a ragged comb. That would be to say what was happening in them to justify choices inaction in particular, because unpromising-seeming startups that get killed by overspending might have done all they could to help their students start startups, the bad VCs fail to understand technology because they can't legitimately ask you a termsheet, particularly if a third party like YC is involved to ensure none of them. If you actually started acting like adults.

Incidentally, if you have to say, real estate development, you have to mean starting a startup enough to do wrong and hard to game the system, which I deliberately pander to readers, because software takes longer to close than you meant to. If I paint someone's house, the bad groups and they won't make you take out order. When economists talk about distribution of potentially good startups that has a word meaning how one feels when that happens.

If they were actually getting physically taller.

Why Startups Condense in America consider acting white.

A few VCs have an edge over Silicon Valley.

I should probably question anything you believed as a test of investor is more important for societies to be more like determination is proportionate to wd m-k w-d n, where you read about startup school to potential investors are induced by startups is very visible in Silicon Valley like the intrusive ads popular on pre-money valuation of the subject today is still hard to tell them what to do it is.

Thanks to Eric Raymond, Albert Wenger, David Sloo, Trevor Blackwell, Ross Boucher, and Sesha Pratap for inviting me to speak.

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teawithkpop · 5 years

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Bonus Chapter

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 2.6k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of birth control, mentions of sexual acts

here’s a little something to tide you guys over until pt 4 is ready~! (feat. the troublesome 95 liners lol) This chapter takes place right after Jimin and Taehyung were sent to their rooms in pt 3. I’m posting it on tumblr first, and AO3 later tonight ^^ also, this chapter has not been beta read, so it’s a nice surprise and a thank you to all my lovely beta readers as well, hehe~ hope you enjoy!

“This is all your fucking fault!” Jimin seethes, his cheeks still fiery red from being reprimanded.

Taehyung’s surprised and a little miffed at how angry Jimin is. Usually it takes a lot more to get the boy so riled up, but for some reason he’s all in knots from only some mild teasing at dinner.

“My fault?” He growses, his brow creasing as he rubs his sore shoulder from where Jimin pushed him into the table. “How is it my fault that you’re terrible at expressing your feelings?”

“Forget my feelings! What about hers?” Jimin’s face is twisted in barely contained rage as he whips around on the stairs to glare at Taehyung. “Did you even consider how she must feel after all this?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen. Of course he considers your feelings. That’s why he’d suggested that Jimin should tell you how he feels about you. The boy has been denying his crush on you for the last three months. Taehyung was just trying to help.

Okay, help and tease Jimin. Just a little.

Taehyung purses his lips, not about to veer off topic when clearly Jimin needs to explore this area of his heart. “You’re deflecting, Jiminie.”

“I am not fucking deflecting…” Jimin grumbles, trudging up the last few steps before storming off in the direction of his room. He throws a hesitant gaze down the hallway that leads to your room, but he keeps moving.

Taehyung notices and huffs at Jimin’s avoidance of the topic. He’s starting to get annoyed at being blamed for this tantrum, when it’s obviously Jimin’s own fault that he’s so emotionally constipated. “Well, then what the fuck is your problem, huh?”

Jimin is silent.

“You obviously like her, so why don’t you do something about it?”

Jimin wants to list, in great detail, all the reasons why he won’t do something about it. For one, there are boundaries, which you’ve made clear since you started working with them, and he’s already tested them once. The only thing he would hate more than keeping his feelings bottled up is breaking your trust. Secondly, because of your position in the house, there’s a weird… power dynamic. One that he doesn’t want to use to take advantage of you, even unintentionally.

Thirdly, for all he knows, you don’t have any feelings for him at all outside of your business with him, and all those nights you’ve spent acting like a doting girlfriend to him in the bedroom, experimenting and playing with him and giving him unimaginable pleasure… maybe it’s all been just that - an act. The fear of rejection from every possible angle has his confidence hitting rock bottom.

And now, after what you’ve confided in him? He can’t fathom burdening you with anything else, you have enough on your plate. But he knows voicing all this won’t do any good, not when Taehyung’s mind is set on something like it is now.

Taehyung can see that the boy’s neck is red, and he’s clearly embarrassed about something. Or maybe ashamed? He’s hard to read sometimes, like earlier when he walked in on you and Taehyung kissing-

Oh… wait a second.

Is this because Taehyung kissed you first? Before Jimin got a chance?

A goofy grin comes across Taheyung’s face. “Oh, I see what’s going on. You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Jimin’s shoulders visibly tense. That has to be it. Taehyung giggles gleefully and pokes him in the ribs. “She can still like you even though she kissed me, you know.“

“Shut up.” Jimin mutters, clenching his fists in an attempt to squeeze the anger out before it boils over him. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think I know pretty well.” Taehyung continues, confident that he’s found the root of Jimin’s problem and determined to dig deeper in order to remove it. After all, what are friends for if not to be the laxative to one’s emotional constipation? “You just don’t want to admit it, do you?”

Jimin’s pulse is pounding in his ears. One more word out of this boy’s mouth tonight, and he is going to lose it. It was bad enough at dinner when he kept taunting Jimin, threatening to eat you out in front of everyone - “I bet her other lips taste even better…” Now he thinks this is all about being jealous over a stupid kiss? Can’t he understand that there are much more serious issues at play here?

Seeing you break at dinner broke something inside him, too. Something that was long waiting to snap. Now, like a chemical reaction, that break is releasing all of his anger, at the world, at himself, at Taehyung…

“Come on, Jiminie. You’re jealous.” Taehyung thinks maybe a little more teasing is in order. Jimin clearly needs a push to admit what’s bothering him. “What would have happened this afternoon if you hadn’t walked in on us, hm? I wonder…”

Jimin counts to ten, tries to tune out the words. “Taehyung. Stop it.”

“I would’ve kissed her some more, slipped my tongue into her mouth… dragged it down her neck as I laid her out on that bed.” Taehyung’s voice drops lower as he himself begins imagining what could have been. “Doesn’t that make you jealous? I would have showed her such a good time. Would’ve eaten that pussy the way she deserves…”

“Shut up. Stop talking.” Jimin says through clenched teeth, his knuckles turning white as he remembers the crestfallen look of resignation on your face earlier in the day as you explained your… predicament to him. He thinks he can never look at you the same way again, overwhelmed with guilt at what was done to you. In a way, it was done for his own benefit, and he hates himself for it. Hates that he’s been conditioned to take advantage of you.

Tae continues with a chuckle, unaware of Jimin’s internal struggle and thinking he’s making good progress. Once Jimin admits his feelings, then they can start to move forward. “Mm… I’d make her scream for me, Jiminie. Make her toes curl and her cheeks all red… I’d make her cum on my tongue, over and over-”

“She CAN’T!” Jimin’s fist slams into the wall with a loud crack, leaving a dent there. He can’t take it anymore, can’t stand Taehyung unwittingly mocking your problem, it’s too cruel in his eyes, too much sick irony for him to stand, and the truth comes tumbling out before he can stop it. “She… she can’t cum, Tae.”

Jimin breathes heavily, his chest heaving from revealing your secret. He didn’t mean to… it just came out. He leans against the wall for support, his head hung with guilt.

Taehyung blinks. “She… can’t?”

Jimin shakes his head.

“But… she has-”

“They were fake. For us,” Jimin runs a hand through his hair. “For our… fucking pleasure.” He spits out the words bitterly, his lip trembling as he sinks down against the wall.

Taehyung is shocked. You never came with them? Not once?

Well that has got to change.

“She told you this?” Taehyung asks carefully, wanting to get all the facts before deciding anything.

Jimin nods forlornly, drawing his knees up to his chest. “It’s some type of birth control. She said there’s a way to turn it off, but only for emergencies.” His eyes are glassy as he looks up at Taehyung and all of his worries come tumbling out. “I don’t think I can have sex with her again, Tae. Not if she… she can’t…” His voice trails off as tears form in his eyes.

It finally dawns on Taehyung why Jimin had been acting so strangely. Why he wouldn’t fuck you at dinner.

God, he feels like a jerk now.

“Hey…” He kneels down and puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, offering the distraught boy some comfort, though he himself is plagued with foreboding at this new revelation, too. “Hey, it’s okay. We can make this right, don’t worry.”

“How? How can this ever be right, Tae? It’s wrong. It’s so wrong.” Jimin tries not to burst into tears, the thought of your body being affected so adversely just so they can dump their loads inside you. It has him feeling sick. “What else is she hiding? What else did they do to her…?” His voice grows quiet, horrified at the unknown possibilities.

Taehyung has somewhat of an idea what else you may be keeping from them. You’d skirted around the harsh facts, sure, but you’d told him enough about your training days for him to know it wasn’t a cake walk.

He remembers one particular evening when you’d let slip about the… exercises you’d had to do. Grueling practice that would allow your body to stretch and bend and choke to do whatever it is that your potential masters could ever want from you.

But sitting here and speculating about what’s already been done won’t help anything. What he and Jimin need is a plan of action. A set of steps to follow, a… a guide.

Holy shit. Could it really be that easy?

“Jimin.” Taehyung gets his attention, and when the boy meets his eyes, he smiles. “What’s the best way to win a game?”

Jimin blinks at him, confused by the change in topic. “Depends on the game.”

Tae laughs. “No, no. To win a game, any game, you need to know the rules like you know the back of your hand.” He stands and helps Jimin up as well, splaying his hand out in front of the other boy’s face as if to demonstrate. “Then, you just need a winning strategy.”

“I don’t understand.” Jimin says, pushing Taehyung’s hand aside with a worried frown.

“Don’t you remember when she first came here? We got a manual, like a user’s guide.” He pats Jimin on the back, and hurries down the hall towards the study.

Jimin tries to keep up with his long strides, confusion still creasing his brow. None of them had touched that manual since they got it. “Yeah, but how will a manual help? Her job is… pretty straightforward.”

Taehyung shakes his head, clasping the door handle and pulling the heavy oak door open. “The instructions for operation are simple, sure. But you know what else you can find in user guides?”

Jimin blows a puff of air, getting tired of Taehyung’s cryptic logic and mixed metaphors. “What, Tae?”

“Troubleshooting.” He grins deviously and heads inside, making his way over to the uppermost drawer of the file cabinet against the wall. “Like perhaps, emergency procedures?”

Namjoon keeps every piece of reference material they might need - from paperwork to take out menus - meticulously organized here in this room, despite the often chaotic state of own living space. Sure enough, the PhysCom manual is filed right where it should be: under ‘P’, and the date of around six months ago.

Taehyung finds a thick stack of papers in the file, containing a copy of the PhysCom contract agreement, transcripts from the members’ personal interviews, and many other goodies that might come in handy. Besides that, there’s the manual itself, a much slimmer read, bound together with a rather wry title, Physical Companions - The Ins and Outs of Your Personal Pleasure Provider.

He snorts a laugh at the ridiculous verbiage, and flips open to the index, skimming his finger along the subjects, seemingly in order of necessity. Nourishment, Hydration, Cleaning and Care, Contraceptives… Bingo.

“Hmm… here we go.” He turns to the correct page and skims the sea of text. “Aha!” His finger points out an italicized passage in the middle of the page, with a helpful diagram beside it.

The Opticon Miracle Implant has been used effectively in 99.97% of PhysComs across the world. The technology is ideal for Physical Companions, but there is still a very slim chance that side effects may occur - please see page 106 for a full list of side effects.

In the unlikely event that your PhysCom reacts poorly to the Opticon Miracle Implant, follow the guide below to shut off the device, and then administer first aid to your PhysCom until paramedics can arrive. To shut off the Opticon Miracle Implant, simply access the Settings in your PhysCom’s ComGear and select ‘Health and Safety’. Next-

A grin slowly spreads across Taehyung’s face as he reads the absurdly simple instructions. “I think we just found our winning strategy.”

“What’s a ComGear?” Jimin asks, looking over the passage as well.

“It’s her phone thingy. The one in her belt.” Taehyung says, proud to remember the answer from when you’d first mentioned it. “We could get in there, no problem, as long as there’s no password for it.”

Jimin still looks unconvinced as he skims over the text. “But we can’t just shut it off. It’s her… birth control. She can’t have sex without it, she could get… you know, pregnant.” He looks slightly uncomfortable at discussing the topic at length.

“Hm. You’re right.” Tae deflates, setting down the manual. Maybe this wasn’t as simple as he’d hoped. “Then how can we-”

“Wait!” Jimin’s eyes light up for a moment. “Condoms?”

Tae wobbles his hand back and forth in the air. “Not foolproof. And she’d probably notice.”

“Damn.” Jimin returns to the drawing board, humming as he tries to think up a solution. What if they turn it off just for a while? Just long enough to make you cum… “Wait, isn’t it her day off soon?”

Taehyung whips out his phone and checks his reminders. Yup. It sure is soon. “The day after tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyes are full of hope. “Can we do it then? After hours tomorrow she won’t be getting fucked, so… no need for birth control, right?”

“It’s the perfect opportunity.” Taehyung nods enthusiastically, and then chuckles, nudging Jimin teasingly. “What a nice way to spend a day off, huh? Getting head from Park Jimin? It’s every girl’s dream.”

Jimin’s cheeks flush. “Wait, what? M-me?”

“Yes, you! Don’t you see?” Tae hooks his arm around Jimin’s shoulder conspiratorially. “This is the perfect chance for you to confess to her.”

Jimin looks down at the decorative carpet. “I don’t know…”

Taehyung pokes his cheek. “Hey. Imagine being the first guy to make her cum in who knows how long.” He gives him an easy smile, as if this was all said and done already. “There’s no way she won’t feel something for you after that.”

Jimin chews it over. It seems… a little sneaky. Like he would be pushing feelings into you, with his tongue. But… he doesn’t have a lot of other options right now, and god damn it, he wants you to cum if it’s the last thing he does.

“Okay,” He looks to Taehyung with determination sparkling in his eyes. “I’m in.”

Taehyung claps him on the back, giving a cheer of victory. “There’s my fearless Jiminie!” He crows, rubbing a noogie to the Jimin’s head, much to Jimin’s protest.

Jimin chuckles and pushes Tae’s arm away, shrugging off the younger boy’s excessive affection. “But we’re going to need a distraction to get into the ComGear without her noticing, right?”

Taehyung thinks for a minute, then that devious smile returns. “Leave the distraction to me.” He pets Jimin’s cheek. “You just focus on getting that tongue ready to taste the sweetest nectar it’s ever experienced.”

Jimin is about to argue, but in the end, he doesn’t question him. Taehyung has gotten them this far, hopefully he can pull off this plan, and nothing will go wrong. Hopefully.

“So what do we do now?” Jimin asks, revved up and ready to take action.

Taehyung grins, quickly putting the papers back into the file, but leaving the manual out to take with him. “Now, we get some beauty sleep, like our lovely PhysCom is probably doing.” He shuts the drawer and guides Jimin to the doors. “And tomorrow night, the game begins.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #i'll fix the tags after I get home #i'm editing this on mobile ripppp #but I wanted to post this before work!!#phew okay #love you guys 💕#<< just fixed the tags haha

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10oclockdot · 4 years

Text

10oclockdot 2020 year in review

As I seem to drift farther and farther from tumblr (though the #Peace posts and my side project on On Kawara keep a thin tether attached), 2020 actually saw me stepping more solidly into my stated vocation as an academic, even if I also lost my job as a university professor this year. Trying to look on the bright sides.

Here we go:

10. I got my first properly peer-reviewed article accepted for publication in 2020. After 2 years of submitting to journals and a protracted review process, “Why is Reverse Motion Funny?: Happy End and the Comic Potential of the Cinematographic Mechanism” was accepted by Journal of Film and Video for publication... TBA. Based on some gossip I read online later, I might be waiting upwards of two years for the article to ever come out. But hopefully not. Either way, it was accepted, and that’s at least something for the CV.

9. Will DiGravio’s excellent The Video Essay Podcast (here) was a great companion this summer while I was working on a big project (see #1), and just for fun I decided to complete some “homework” he assigned on the podcast. My submission is here. Everyone else’s submissions are here.

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8. Early in the year, I updated a compilation of all the times John Ford used the hymn “Shall We Gather at the River” in one of his films. An eagle-eyed YouTuber found one more. Here’s the new version.

7. When some prominent Math YouTubers put out a call for videos on favorite numbers greater than a million -- aka #MegaFavNumbers -- I couldn’t see a reason not to join in, and made this video, based on one of my old tumblr posts. In it I also mention that as of late 2019 I’m also published on the Online Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences. Not sure if I ever mentioned that here. Anyway, contributing a #MegaFavNumber seems like a fitting project for a year in which I also became a math tutor. (Here’s the full playlist.)

6. I didn’t make much art this year of note, but this bit of constrained poetry executed as a 10-part conceptual painting is easily one of the best and most important artworks I’ve ever made (if any could be assigned importance).

5. I finally watched Twin Peaks: The Return. Here’s a post I made about that, which somehow became the most popular new thing on the blog this year. Aphelis also liked this gif I made for him. Nobody seemed to understand this post (or maybe I just think it’s better than it is), but that’s okay, I guess.

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4. I started a new video essay series called “Video Postcards.” There are only two so far (”About Time,” and “Drone Swarms”), but the idea is to keep making them on a regular basis (monthly, maybe?). The concept is that each video is addressed to a friend of mine, and I weigh in on some topic that we’re both interested in and have talked about before. I actually SEND the addressee the postcard you see me writing in the video, with the link written out on it. After they view this private video correspondence, they get to decide whether the rest of the world will get to see it too. So far 2 for 2.

3. It was hard to write much that was meaningful this year politically (at least, it was hard for me). But I still wrote a short story that I’m proud of called Somewhere in the middle of an angry mob in Jerusalem, ca. 2000 years ago (here). I wish every Evangelical Christian in the country (my heritage) would read it. Oh, I also drew this cartoon about who establishment democrats really are. Oh, and this diagram over on Facebook about the inscrutable slowness of the apocalypse.

2. My first professional publication came in the form of a long data-driven article for Bright Lights Film Journal that dropped back in January: “Tracking Mass Ideology on IMDb’s Top 250: How Shifts in Societal Values Appear in the Popular Film Canon” (here). The Bright Lights people were so easy to work with that I’m looking forward to writing another article for them in the new year, if they’ll take it. This article even drew the attention of the great film reviewer Darren Mooney (of the m0vie blog), who invited me to record an episode of his podcast The 250 (here) on Sherlock, Jr. (Buster Keaton, 1924). We taped it a couple months ago, but it should land in the new year. I’ll share it here when it does.

1. And, of course, after three years of work and a rejection from [in]Transition, my first feature-length project, a video essay called A Supercut of Supercuts: Aesthetics, Histories, Databases, was accepted for publication at Open Screens Journal. It should be live in January. I’ve also sent it out to some film festivals with what little money I could scrape together for that purpose. Hopefully at least one of them wants to play it, so I can add some laurels to that poster!

See you next year!

#year in review

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omgrachwrites · 4 years

Text

Schooled (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OC

Summary: After the passing of Ava’s father she starts acting out which drives her right into the arms of one gorgeous Professor Barnes.

Warnings: fluff, little bit of angst

Words: 2062

A/N: So, I’ve got no idea whether America has bonfire night or not?? Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

Part Seven - Dinner and Dessert

Ava was roused from her dreams by the incessant ringing of her alarm clock, she groaned sleepily and shut it off before flopping back down on her bed, her head still felt foggy. With much effort she got out of bed and picked out her clothes for the day. She sighed when she looked at the reflection in the bathroom mirror, her hair was a mess and there was mascara smudged beneath her eyes where she failed to take it off properly.

Sunday, the day after Halloween she had gone over to Pepper’s place to have dinner with Pepper and Morgan, just like she had promised before she started college. She had turned up, extremely hungover to say the least and she had ended up getting wine drunk with Pepper after Morgan had gone to bed. Thankfully, she didn’t feel too bad – though her reflection told a very different story – she washed her face, put a little bit of makeup on and she traipsed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Pepper was making bacon and eggs, she looked as hungover as Ava did and by the look of it, Morgan was still in bed. She looked up and smiled when Ava walked into the room, “good morning sweetie,” she kissed Ava’s cheek, “I just made a fresh pot of coffee, do you want bacon or eggs?” she asked.

Ava shook her head as she poured some coffee into her thermal flask, adding cream and sugar to it, “no thanks, I need to pick up some books from my apartment before class starts, so I’ll grab something on the way,” she smiled but grabbed a piece of buttered toast anyway.

“So, there was something that I wanted to speak to you about,” she sounded nervous, she kept her eyes on the pan, seemingly determined not to look at Ava, “you know how your dad would throw his costume party on bonfire night?”

“Yeah?” Ava asked, sipping her coffee.

Pepper chewed her lip as she turned round to face Ava, “well, I thought that we could throw it this year, as a tribute to him,” she said all of this very fast as if she thought that it would soften the blow.

Though, Pepper didn’t have to be nervous because it was a great idea, to have Tony’s annual party to pay tribute to him. Her dad had been throwing his themed parties since Ava was a little girl – she remembered there was a medieval party where Ava got to dress up as a princess. Tony had always thrown his parties on bonfire night, so he could throw a spectacular firework display at the end of the night.

“I think it’s a great idea, I really do,” Ava beamed and Pepper smiled gratefully as she sat at the kitchen table.

“I know you’ll probably want to go to the festival with your friends.”

There was nothing really special about the festival on bonfire night, it was literally just like the Christmas markets, and they were only tailored to make money. But, it was a tradition to go with MJ and Wanda, “the festival is on in the daytime, so we can easily do both,” they both planned to have a party planning night – with lots more wine. After a couple of minutes, Ava left to pick up the books that she needed for her class.

As she was walking across the quad with MJ, Peter, Wanda and Loki, – she was telling them about the party – Peter’s Aunt May came walking up beside the group of friends. She was the Head of the English Department.

“Hey, Ava, I was hoping to find you,” she smiled and passed Ava a sheet of paper. Ava sighed as she looked at it and she felt tears prick at her eyes as she saw the big red rejection stamp. She was stuck in Bucky’s class, “I’m sorry, I know that it’s not what you wanted to see. But, since there really is no alarming reason why you want to transfer out of Professor Barnes’ class, we just can’t accept it. I really am sorry.”

Ava sighed and smiled at her, “its fine really, don’t worry about it.”

May smiled, “have a great day guys,” she nodded at them, kissed Peter’s cheek and strode back across the quad.

“Hey, I didn’t know that you wanted to switch classes,” Loki pouted and Ava shrugged, it wasn’t like it mattered now anyway.

“It’s really no big deal,” she sighed and exchanged unhappy looks with MJ and Wanda.

Reluctantly, Ava traipsed into the lecture hall with Loki and she casually put the stamped form on Bucky’s desk. She put it face up on the desk so that he couldn’t miss the huge red stamp, she couldn’t believe that she was stuck here for the rest of the semester. She found her seat and sat down, raising he brown eyes to see what his reaction was.

He looked at the form for a second before he lifted those pretty blue eyes and looked at her. He shot her the most gorgeous smile that she’d ever seen; it reached his eyes, making them crinkle at the edges. She also thought that he looked pretty relieved. The rest of the lecture passed by without a hitch, Ava took part and spoke up more than she usually did. She was thankful that Loki had tutored her in the ways of Shakespeare.

At the end of the lecture, Ava smiled at the handsome man as she passed by his desk, “hey,” he started in a quiet voice that made Ava look back at him with a raised eyebrow, “so, your request was rejected huh? I’m glad.”

Ava frowned at him, narrowing her eyes, “why are you glad?”

“Oh! Um,” Bucky flushed and stuttered, “you’re such a good student. I wouldn’t want any other teacher stealing you away.”

Ava could tell how lame of an excuse it was and she couldn’t help but laugh, “okay then,” she also noticed that Bucky looked stressed to no end, “what’s wrong? You look pretty stressed.”

Bucky regarded her with those gorgeous blue eyes before throwing up his hands, “what the hell,” he sighed, “my dad and his new girlfriend have invited themselves over for dinner tonight, they didn’t give me much warning. My dad is a rich snob and he expects bloody dinner and dessert, if not he’ll go on about it for days. I don’t have time to make both dinner and dessert so I guess, he’ll just have to be disappointed, as usual,” he finished with a bitter tone.

Ava sighed, she hated to see him so stressed, the look didn’t suit him, if she was going to be stuck in his class for the rest of the semester then they needed to be civil with one another. Ava wanted to help him, “I’ve got an amazing recipe for chocolate lava cake, I could make a batch and drop them off?” she offered.

Bucky smiled gratefully at her before shaking his head, she just knew that he would refuse, “don’t worry about it. Won’t you be late for your minor psychology class?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and reaching for his book.

Ava smiled as she plucked the book out of his hands, giggling when he pouted and reached forward to take it back. Ava threw the book behind her and she looked at him sternly, “now, you listen to me. You’re a good guy Bucky; I still believe that, no matter what transpires between us. Your dad has got no right to be disappointed by you, let me help you. Bucky, please.”

Bucky was silent and looked at her with wide round eyes as she performed her little speech, “fine, okay. Thank you Ava.”

The young woman smiled as she placed her phone on his desk and pushed it towards him, “here, put your number in and text me your address.”

Bucky raised a thick eyebrow at her words, “seriously, you want your Professor’s number?” he smirked and Ava rolled her eyes at him.

“We weren’t always Professor and student,” she hesitated, chewing her lip, “and besides, if I’d stayed with you that morning in Greece, you probably would have had my number anyway,” she flushed as Bucky smirked to himself as he typed his number into Ava’s phone.

-----------------------------------

Bucky smiled tightly at his dad’s new girlfriend, Candace – she was pretty young, even younger than Bucky himself, his dad always had gold digging younger girlfriends – before excusing himself to get a refill on his drink. He sighed in relief as he had a little bit of peace and quiet in the kitchen as he sipped his very watered down whisky.

Bucky’s dad, George, had invited himself for dinner, along with Candace, making some excuse that he wanted to see his grandson, though George had never visited Harry when he was in hospital. Bucky knew that George’s excuse was a load of bullshit; Bucky bet that George had only come over to tell Bucky how disappointed he was.

George owned a multi-million company and he’d always wanted Bucky to take over the business as George’s heir. When Bucky told his father that it wasn’t what he wanted and that he was going to college to become a teacher, he knew that was the day when he had truly disappointed George. Ava was coming over with dessert in about half an hour so Bucky was going to supply George and Candace with drinks in the meantime. He didn’t want to serve dinner until Ava brought dessert over.

“So, bud,” he felt a sharp slap against his shoulder and he turned to see his dad grinning at him, “what do you think of Candace?” Bucky sighed as he poured out a rum and coke for George before sliding it over the kitchen counter, towards him.

“She seems great dad,” Bucky mumbled untruthfully before he gathered his courage, “your girlfriends seem to be getting younger and younger dad. How long is this one going to last? 3 months? 6 months?”

George laughed as he sipped his drink, “Candace is the real deal, hopefully our son or daughter will be the heir to my business,” he shot a glare at Bucky, “you had so much potential, my boy,” George sighed before walking through into the living room.

Bucky grumbled and followed him. It was a very awkward half hour as George pretty much interrogated Bucky about his life and his teaching. He paid hardly any attention to Harry, which pissed Bucky off massively. The next time George even mentioned coming to see his grandson, Bucky wouldn’t let him. He got marginally more uncomfortable and fidgety when Candace winked at him and she refused to take her eyes off of him.

When the doorbell rang, Buck was more relieved than he could say as he practically jumped up and ran to the door. He pulled the door open and smiled at Ava who had a covered tray in her hands; she looked very pretty with ringlet curls in her hair.

“I made a mixture of white and milk chocolate lava cakes for a bit of variety,” she flushed and handed the tray over to him.

He beamed at her, “thank you so much, Ava. I’ll find a way to make it up to you,” he was about to tell her that he would have invited her inside but his dad was a nuisance. Before he could speak the words, George barged right past his son and narrowed his eyes at Ava.

“Is this your girl, Buck?”

Bucky flushed, as did Ava, “err no, dad. She’s-“he tried to explain but George cut him off.

“God, what was I thinking? Of course, she’s not your girlfriend,” disappointment was evident in his eyes and in his voice.

Ava crossed her arms and glared at the back of George’s head, “actually, I am his girlfriend, we just haven’t made it official yet,” she said as she touched Bucky’s arm. George smirked at Bucky while Bucky shot Ava a look of surprise.

She smiled at him prettily and he realised why she told George that she his girlfriend, he gave her a grateful smile back as he gestured for her to come into his apartment. Tonight was not going to be fun in any shape or form.

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@void-imaginations @theonelittleone @thejemersoninferno @mikariell95 @lovely-geek @leclerc-stan @allthingswildareshy @writingkeepsmewhole @white-wolf-buckaroo @goodolbucky @rosemoonmist

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