it's one of these things that can make me furious in a second

read-play-sing  asked:

Yesterday, you reblogged a post that bought into the false dichotomy of convenience food vs "hipster healthy" food. "Mom&pop healthy" is as cheap/cheaper than convenience food. Get a fridge. Most fresh foods keep 2 weeks if stored properly, make a weekly grocery trip to have no waste. Healthy eating means getting the nutrition you need and not going over the calories you need. Apples and hard-boiled eggs are both convenient and healthy. Learn to cook. You can be poor and eat healthy.

Aw, howdy, puddin’!

I am…

…reasonably middle class, which is a miracle for a full-time author.
…equipped of a fridge, a pantry, a chest freezer, and a working kitchen.
…capable of cooking for myself and others.

I am also…

…the daughter of a woman who raised three daughters on welfare.
…formerly homeless.
…a fat woman who has to fight not to slip back into disordered eating habits because of items #1 and #2.
…someone who goes to the grocery store multiple times a week.
…regularly furious about food waste in my own home when people refuse to eat their leftovers/help eat communal leftovers.

So let’s go.

The specific post I reblogged worked from the base premise that it is easier to eat, where “eat” is defined as “get sufficient calories to not feel hungry,” when you are not making a concerted effort to “eat healthy.”  It cited things like “a package of extremely filling oatmeal cookies for a dollar,” and “behold, ramen.”  Interestingly, it did not cite anything to support the “false dichotomy” you’re accusing me of supporting: for reference, here’s the link  http://seananmcguire.tumblr.com/post/164447064675/heyatleastitsnotcancer-candygirl1997

(There is a cranky comment about non-GMO unicorn poop, but as hipsters don’t actually eat shit, that seems less “dichotomy,” and more “angry.”)

But hey, that seems suspiciously like people wanting other people to stop dictating their food choices and assuming they’re eating that way out of necessity, and not because they’re lazy.  That can’t be right!  We need someone who’s seen both sides!

And that’s why now, as someone who used to eat out of dumpsters, as someone who was lucky enough to be poor in farming country and hence have access to produce seconds (IE, bruised and ugly fruit that no one else wanted), as someone who is emotionally incapable of looking at meat before checking the discount meat bin at the grocery store, I am going to answer the question of whether it’s cheaper to eat healthy once and for all:

No.

No, it is not.

No, it is fucking not.

I live near an independently owned fruit market.  They have, regularly, red and gold potatoes for $.99 a pound.  They have big Idaho bakers for $.59 a pound.  These are some of the best potato prices I have ever seen.  Had we lived here when I was a kid, I would have eaten potatoes until I wept.  Assuming that potatoes are now the bulk of our diet, and that we’re only eating the cheap ones, that’s a pound of potatoes per person, per day, for a total of $2.40.  Call it $2.50, after tax.  We are now spending $75 a month on potatoes.  No butter or sour cream, because potatoes are already starchy as hell, and fuck taste, but we have potatoes!

Great.  Do we have a kitchen?  We didn’t, always.  For approximately 1/3rd of my childhood, this plan has us eating raw potatoes.  But let’s say sure.  We can cook our plain potatoes.  Say we cook them every night, and have hot potato for dinner, and then cold potato for breakfast.  Can’t eat the school lunch–pretty sure that’s not healthy enough.  So I guess we’ll buy and boil eggs.  You can boil eggs and potatoes in the same pot.

How many eggs do you give the starving, miserable eight-year-old to fill her up?  Ballpark figure?  Is it the same number you give her fourteen-year-old sister?  Is it the same number you take to your back-breaking physical labor job?  We’re ignoring the emotional and social impacts here, and just focusing on the cost.  So say three eggs each.  Maybe everyone’s hungry, but hey, it’s health food.

A dozen eggs is $2.00.  We are now spending $60 a month on eggs.  That’s $135 a month for a diet that is probably not making anyone happy, but hey, at least it’s all easy on the digestion, right?  And if you’re eating three eggs a day, even if you’re soloing this You Should Be Punished For Poverty diet, your eggs aren’t spoiling.  Assuming you have a fridge.

Hope you have a fridge.

Your children have now started going home with friends in hopes of being fed, but that’s okay, because it means you have fewer mouths to feed, and if you don’t want them to be taken away, you need to make sure they don’t get scurvy.  So we’re going to add milk ($3.50 a gallon, hope no one’s lactose intolerant, if you water it down and watch them like a hawk, you can survive on two gallons a week, which adds $28 to your grocery costs, good job) and apples.  Red delicious, of course, which taste like shame, but they’re cheap when the store has them…assuming you’re not in a food desert, where the only apples are coming from the 7-11 at a dollar apiece.

There are so many things we could be buying to make this feel less like a Dickens novel.  There’s baloney, and peanut butter, and generic mac and cheese.  But they’re not healthy.

Eating healthy is a privilege.  When I made a dedicated effort to change my eating habits, my grocery bills increased by 60%.  I have the receipts.  Not because I was buying “brand names”: because I was buying chicken breasts instead of whole chickens, because I was buying fresh instead of frozen, because I was learning to fill up on things other than chips.  That’s just the way we’ve allowed this country to structure our food.

Yes: allowed.  In England–which has its own problems, please don’t take this as me going YAY ENGLAND LAND OF PERFECTION–they have laws setting the prices that can be charged for “staples,” like chicken, and potatoes, and bread, and butter, and eggs, and milk.  It’s much easier to eat healthy there than it is here.

But here, it is a privilege.

And it ought to be a right.

Unexpected (Part 1)

An attempt to make Yoongi jealous goes too far – but his reaction is unexpected. 

Features V.

Warning: revenge sex, cream pie, sloppy seconds, cuckolding, multiple partners, dirty talk, humiliation, I guess this qualifies as angsty smut

Parts: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8 (final)  8.5 (bonus)

“Seriously, I’m trying to work here and I’m not in the mood for your shenanigans,”  Yoongi said,  waving you away from him while you were trying to kiss him.

Not in the mood for your shenanigans.  Those words rang in your ears and you could feel the heat rising to your face.  It had been quite a while since you and your boyfriend had been intimate, and this was the third time in a week that he had rejected your advances because he was too tired, too busy and not in the mood. 

“Yoongi, what is with you?  We haven’t had sex in almost three weeks and you’re always turning me down when I try. Are you sick of me or something?”

“Quit being dramatic.  I was traveling for two of those weeks.”

“So what that you were traveling?!  Normally, you are ready to jump on top of me the minute you get home from traveling, but you’ve been home for a week and there’s been nothing, absolutely nothing! Are you cheating on me?!” You could hear your voice rising with your frustration and anger.

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All I’ve got II pt. 2

Jungkook x reader, Namjoon x reader

genre: contents of smut, slight fluff, angst, tattooed!jungkook, badboy!jungkook

word count: 12.1k


Jeon Jungkook was a tall guy, handsome with all those ethereal artwork tattooed on his arms..and your best friend. He was by your side whereas you faced a painful heartbreak, caressing your hurt soul for as long as you needed him. But how much can a friendship withstand if one of the two develops feelings? 

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For some reason I am really attached to the idea of Adrien making bad first impressions on people because of the association with Chloe? And then blowing them out of the water just by being his cinnamon roll self. So this idea jumped out at me as inspired by the scene in Origins where Adrien literally flings himself off his climbing wall like an idiot who has definitely done that before and will do it again.

Like imagine early on, maybe the second day of school before everyone has figured out what a sweetheart he is, they have gym class, and no one knew they had to explain to Adrien about wearing gym clothes so he’s wearing jeans and impractical footwear. And of course, he appologizes profusely to the teacher, saying he didn’t know there was gym today and didn’t bring anything to change into, completely unaware that Chloe uses this excuse all the time. So the class is collectively rolling their eyes, and the gym teacher is aggravated, because the last thing he needs is another rich brat thinking the rules don’t apply to them, so he decides to make an example.

He says today’s lesson is very important and so he’ll have to make due barefoot, and that he can even come up first and help show the rest of the class what they’re doing today. And Nino and Marinette, plus some of the more kindhearted students are all wincing on his behalf, while everyone else feels pretty vindictive about getting to watch Chloe’s friend embarrass himself.

Of course Adrien is an oblivious sweetheart and is just completely thrilled that not only does he not have to sit out his first ever gym class for being unprepared, he gets to go first! And so of course he beams and agrees enthusiastically, to which most people present become suspicious over what he has planned, while Nino and Marinette bemoan that their new friend is too good for this world.

As luck, and Narrative convenience, would have it, the first activity for that day is the Climbing Wall. (Their school is fucking fancy they would definitely have one) Everyone fears and loathes the Climbing Wall, because it’s difficult and terrifying, and there are no harnesses, just thick mats to break your fall. No one’s ever actually been injured on it, but there are plenty enough urban legends going around the school to convince the general student body that it’s a deathtrap.

There are collective looks of sympathy, because not even one of Chloe’s lackeys deserves the Climbing Wall (so dreaded that its name is always capitalized) on their first day in gym.

Adrien is understandably completely thrilled because he has one just like it at home and he is gonna rock this. Pun definitely intended.

The gym teacher explains the rules (start behind the red line, run when the whistle blows, go as fast as you can, timer stops after you’ve hit the roof and made it back down to the ground) Adrien is practically vibrating with excitement, Marinette thinks she’s about to die of second hand embarrassment, Nino is biting his nails, Chloe is trying to hide a smirk and no one knows why (she’s been to Adrien’s house, after all), and everyone else is sitting back, ready to watch Adrien fall all over himself.

The gym teacher blows his whistle and Adrien is off like a fucking shot, sprinting to the wall and then making his way up it just as quickly. His class is half certain that he is somehow part monkey, and Marinette and Nino have just enough time to share a relieved look before he taps the ceiling and then launches himself into open air.

Several people shriek in horror, but Adrien rolls expertly when he hits the mats, and comes up grinning, only a little out of breath, and asks what his time was.

There is a moment of silence before the gym teacher let’s out a terrified and furious screech of “AGRESTE!”

Adrien turns red with shame and guilt, and because he is a cinnamon roll to his core, completely misinterprets what he did wrong.

“Sorry! Is that not allowed? I should have thought- sorry.” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly “I can go back up and climb down again properly, if you want sorry.”

At this point he is under the inspection of the baffled stares of everyone in the room and the gym teacher is put in the position to explain that no, the problem wasn’t that that was cheating, it’s that you flung yourself into the air with no regard for life and limb and gave everyone a collective heart attack, and you are never going up on that thing again for all our sakes.

Which prompts Adrien to be like “Oh! But there were mats, I thought that’s what they were there for, plus they’re a much better target than my couch back home and I’ve only missed that twice.”

“You’ve done this before? With a couch? WHY?”

“Because the floor was lava. Uh, Sir.”

And that is how the entire class found out that Adrien Agreste is a precious sunbeam with no regard for his own safety who must be protected at all costs.

Dear Peter

Request: Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader is a hot mess and one day peter decides to help her clean her room? And while cleaning her room she leaves to get pizza or something. And he finds multiple little letters to peter about how much she loves him but she never sends them to him? (like they are buried underneath her messy room). Lots of Fluff (and a little angst in the letters). I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK BTW I’m a huge fan!

A/N: So I loved this idea so much that I started writing it right away. And as a person with an extremely messy bedroom I am taking offence to my own words. And this is actually kinda personal to me, I’m partially including notes I wrote to someone, exactly one year ago this month, actually. Hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 2576 (Wow this Is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Warnings: Nah

Masterlist

Day after day, you showed up to school late and in a clutter. Your notes were never in order, when you would open your bag, things would be falling out. You’d given up on your locker. Why bother using it if every time you opened it, something would fall on you?

You ran into chemistry five minutes after the bell, “Y/N, how nice of you to join us,” your teacher smiled.

“Sorry i’m late,” you mumbled, heading towards the back of the class where you shared a lab desk with your best friend Peter Parker.

“Let me guess why you were late today. Couldn’t find your homework in that mess of a bedroom,”

“No,” you said.

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Fine, yes. You’re right,” you admitted.

“That’s what I thought,”

“Apparently I threw my sweater on top of it, and a pair of pants, and maybe I kept piling things on top while I was looking for it,”

“Christ, Y/N, that’s it, I’m coming over tonight and we’re cleaning your damn bedroom,”

“My bedroom is fine, Peter,”

“Clearly, it’s not. I’m coming over, and we are cleaning,”

“Fine,”

You were certainly going to have to figure out a way out of this one. You had a few things in your bedroom that you really didn’t want Peter to find.

As promised, later that evening Peter showed up at your door.

“Peter, what if I told you that I don’t want you cleaning my bedroom,”

“I’d tell you too bad,”

Peter moved past you and walked into your home.

“Peter, come on, I really don’t want your help,”

“C’mon Y/N, you really need to get organized, you’re going to start getting detentions if you show up late many more times,”

“But what if there are things in my room that I don’t want you seeing?”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise to avert my eyes if there’s any underwear lying around,”

“Not what I meant, but I can see that you’re not giving up, so fine, enter my lair,” you said, stepping aside and allowing Peter into your bedroom.

Peter stepped inside and kind of sighed, “I forgot how messy your room was,”

“Now you know why I always study at your house,”

“And I always thought it was because of little old me,”

“Meh,”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Peter said, looking around.

There were piles of clothes on your floor, books staked on your desk chair, old homework was scattered everywhere, and half your bed was taken up by your computer, clothes, books, and even a few water bottles.

“Ok! So we’re going to start with the garbage,”

“You can’t throw me away, Parker. Not in my own house,”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Just go grab a garbage bag and we’ll get started,”

You and Peter spent what seemed like forever cleaning.

“I’m going to start on your desk while you finish sorting though your clothes,”

“Or…. You could order some food?” Peter added 

You sighed, dropping the shirts you had in your hand, “Pizza okay?”

“Better than okay, I’m starved, and I most definitely don’t want to eat anything else that we’ve come across,”

“Ok, back off Peter, my room’s messy but I don’t have rotting food in here or anything,”

Peter pulled two completely squished chocolate bars off your desk and held them up in front of you, “I beg to differ,”

 “I’m going to go order the pizza,” you said, flipping Peter off. 

You walked out of the room and left Peter to clean off your desk.

Peter continued to clear off what he believed to be was garbage, hopefully he wasn’t throwing away anything that you may need.

There were a few pieces of paper folded up on the corner of your desk under an old coffee mug.

Peter lifted the mug, and placed it at the foot of your bed along with the other three you had found.

Peter began sorting though the papers and came across an envelope with his name on it.

Peter put the rest of the papers down and held the envelope.

I can’t open it, can I?

No.

I shouldn’t.

Peter very much so wanted to open the mysterious envelope that had his name on it.

Peter was still looking at the envelope when you walked back in.

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the envelope to you.

“You didn’t open it, did you?”

“No, of course not, I respect your privacy, I was just wondering what it was,”

You walked towards Peter, and grabbed the envelope from him.

“It’s nothing,” you lied.

“Right,” Peter said, staring at you for a moment before going back to clearing off your desk.

You and Peter cleaned in silence for the next while until the pizza arrived.

“I’ll be back,” you said, leaving the room.

When you came back, Peter was sitting on the ground of your balcony, letting his legs hang out the side through the bars.

You went out and sat down next to Peter, opening the box of pizza to offer him some.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked.

“No, why would I be mad?”

“Because I wouldn’t let you read the letters,”

“No, I understand. There are some things you want to keep private and other things you’re willing to share,”

You took a deep breath and pulled the envelope out of your pocket.

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this,”

Peter watched you, waiting to see what you would do.

“Fuck. Okay. Peter, here,” you said, outstretching your hand to him, giving him the envelope.

“No, Y/N, you clearly don’t want me to read whatever’s in there,”

“Please, take it, Peter. Just, wait until you get home to read it. And, remember that I don’t want what’s in this envelope to change our friendship. You’re still my best friend and I really can’t lose you,”

“Did you confess to a murder in here or something?” Peter joked.

You rolled your eyes, “No, Parker, just, eat your pizza,”

Peter shoved the envelope into his pant pockets and the two of you went on with your evening. You finished your pizza and went back inside to finish cleaning.

It didn’t take you much longer to completely clean your room.

By 10pm your room was rid of garbage and old homework, your clothes were put away in your dresser, and all your old coffee mugs were in the dishwasher.

“I guess I better head home before Aunt May gets worried,”

“Oh, okay,”

Peter walked towards where you were sitting on your bed.

“I’ll read your letters when I get home and talk to you tomorrow,”

Peter kissed your cheek and left.

You said on your bed, heat fluttering from Peter’s kiss. You knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight. You were too worried about how Peter was going to react to your letters.

When Peter got home, he shouted a simple hello to May and ran into his room.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, and pulled out the envelope.

He ripped it open and a handful of letters came out. 

Peter opened the first one, dated just over a year previous, a few months before he had gotten his spidey powers.

Dear Peter,

First of all, fuck you.

Second of all, I can’t believe I’m writing this stupid letter.

I read somewhere that writing things down is a great way to let everything out, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m writing you a letter to tell you how I feel.

You’re my best friend. I love you with all my heart. More than you’ll ever know, really. And if you’re reading this, stop? Because never in a million years would I actually give you this to read. Quit snooping, Parker.

Regardless, I’m always wondering if I should tell you how I feel, so I guess i’ll just do it here because I am WAY too much of a chicken to tell you in person.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, am in love with you Peter Parker.

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t in love with you. I can’t remember a time that you weren’t my entire world. Peter, If you asked, I would find a way to  make a million waves in the ocean crash all at once, just to make you smile.

I still can’t believe I’m writing this down.

I really am in love with you, Peter.

Y/N.

Peter had to re-read the letter what felt like a dozen times. You were in love with him. He didn’t know what to say. He quickly pulled out the next letter. It was dated only a month after the first one.

Peter,

This is so ridiculous that I’m writing to you again. But you drive me insane! Every time I look at you I just want to run my hands through those damn curls of yours and kiss your perfect lips but I can’t. You’re my best friend and I can’t.

You make me so furious. I hate looking at you knowing that I can’t kiss you or be with you, but I also can’t not look at you because i’m in love with your stupid face.

I stand by my statement of fuck you.

Y/N.

Peter looked at the dates on all the letters, they were each dated almost a month apart.

Peter,

I miss you so much, Peter. I know I see you every day, but you’ve been hanging around me and Ned after school a lot less. I love you more than I thought I would love anyone, ever, and I’m scared to lose you. It feels like I’m losing you. I wish we could run away and leave everything behind, just you and me. Please, Peter. I miss you and I’m crying and I wish we were together.

Y/N.

Peter’s heart began to ache, he had no idea you felt this way about him. The next letter was dated after he had become Spiderman and had begun his Stark internship.

Peter,

It’s not fair that everything reminds me of you. It’s not fair that while you’re off doing whatever it is you do after school, whether its the Stark internship or not, I’m lying here awake, crying, trying not to think of you but all I can do is cry over the fact that I’ve lost you. It’s not fair that I’m going to cry myself to sleep. It’s not fair that we broke. I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this pain. I haven’t done anything to deserve this much pain. It’s not fair that life is so painful. I don’t deserve this pain. I just want you back. That’s all I want. I just want you. Why does living have to be so hard?
I still feel numb. After crying for three hours tonight, I haven’t felt anything. Nothing feels real. This isn’t real. I don’t know what I’m doing, how I’m living. But it’s so hard without you, Peter. It’s so hard to not have you. I went from having everything I’d ever want or need, to nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I have is the memories of the old us. And my memory is shit. Imagine how hard this is for me. I don’t even know if you’re missing me like I miss you. I don’t even know if you’re thinking about me. I hope you are. I’d like to think you are. But, then again, who knows. I barely feel like I know you anymore. You’re my entire life. I just lost my entire life.

Y/N.

Peter couldn’t stand to read anymore. He dropped the letters on his bed, and climbed out his fire escape.
Peter began swinging towards your apartment. He landed on your balcony and knocked on the glass door.

You suddenly jumped up, and the sight of someone at your window. When you realized it was Peter you climbed out of bed and went to open the window for him to get in.

“Peter what are you doing here? Its almost 1am,”

Peter looked down at his watch (ok I know he doesn’t wear a watch cause of his web shooters but I have this weird thing where I find it so attractive for people to wear watches like?) and checked the time. You were right. He hadn’t realized he had been reading for so long.

“I needed to see you,”

“Is something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“I read your letters, or, I read some of them. I couldn’t bring myself to finish them,“

“Oh,” you slightly pulled away from Peter.

“No! No! Not like that. I just meant, I got to the one when I had just become Spiderman and I would spent all my time out and I ignored you and Ned, just, the letter broke my heart Y/N. I didn’t know you felt this way,”

“Well, I do. You kinda broke my heart when you stopped coming around,”

“I knew you were mad at me, I just didn’t realize that you were this upset,”

“I wasn’t just upset Peter, i’m in love with you. I cried myself to sleep every night because I thought you hated me and that I had lost you for good,”

Peter walked towards you and gently placed a hand on your cheek.

“You could never lose me, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you,”

“Don’t make promised you can’t keep, Parker,”

“Darling, I’m in love with you too, I’m not going anywhere,”

You could feel tears in your eyes, and the back of your throat felt thick (thicc). You were so mad at yourself for not telling Peter sooner.

Peter leaned in and placed a light kiss on your lips. Pulling away only for a moment before you leaned back in to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around Peter, he puled your closer to him, and moved his lips from yours, engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you telling me, I could have saved myself so many sleepless nights over you if I had only told you sooner?”

“I guess I could have saved myself some sleepless nights because of you too if I had only had the guts to tell you how I felt,”

“Do you have to go home or can you stay?” You asked.

“I’m not leaving,” Peter said, bringing you in for another kiss.

Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible thing that Peter found those letters.


Tag List: @tronnoristheotp, @isabellyduh, @spiderrparkerr, @lots-of-liz, @darlin-you-bitch, @a-smol-badger (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, please let me know in an ask or private message if you would like to be included in my tag list

I Own You

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Words: 2500

Warnings: NSFW (smut!)

A/N: Since I’m back on tumblr, I decided to repost some of my old work and fanfics! Hope you enjoy! 

Originally posted by rosamundamuddyfoot



A dull headache was the first thing that woke you up. You blinked few times to clear your sight and look at the empty side next to you.

Turning around you noticed that the sheets were a pure mess and then you noticed that it was 2 p.m.

“Ah, great!” you groaned and then pulled to covers to the side.

You were naked and probably got awfully drunk last night.

Then it hit you. You had a fight with the god of mischief before you let tequila possess you.

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Supertuned

Ok, so this is a imagine that I’ve had in my head for a while now. Enjoy, My Lovelies. xx

Tag list: @hamartiamacguffin @illisea @thegreatficmaster @lovemesomepie85 @torn-and-frayed

If you want me to add you to my tag list, shoot me through a message and let me know. 

Dean looked up as the Y/C/H hunter walked into the viewing room. Her hair fell loosely around her face, the soft Hollywood curls framing it perfectly. His eyes wandered over her body, the way her jeans hugged her arse perfectly, the black tank she wore that was slightly see through, the deep red bra underneath that showed off some of her best assets. Her silver cross hung down over the top of her breasts, the diamonds shining in the light. Her heels clicked on the polished concrete floor, he glanced down at the ankle boots, that was a new looked. The look was Y/N all over, but a sexed up Y/N. He frowned at the duffels in her hand.

‘Hunt?’

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lettiekim  asked:

Hiii the story you wrote about Andrew and Neil that I asked for awhile ago was awesome even though I know it was a hard one. I was wo dering if you can do 98 about Ronan and Adam?

(that is SWEET and also I bastardized your prompt a little >:))

98: “I want to thank you for putting up with me. I know that I’m not the easiest person to get along with.” 

He’s locking up the repair shop with his arms full of backpack and keys clamped between his teeth when someone honks behind him. He startles so hard that everything landslides down onto springy wet grass.

“Sorry!” Gansey calls, head popped outside of what must be the pig, if Adam could see past the dizzy glare of the headlights. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. You’d better come sit down.”

Adam breathes deep, mentally slicing his evening into pieces like he always does when an expensive car rolls up and his name is called. He stoops over to gather the textbooks spilling out of his bag, the scatter of his few precious pens and his bike lock.

When he looks up, Gansey’s switched on his high beams to passive aggressively hurry him along. He slows down a little out of halfhearted spite.

Adam tucks his backpack through the headrests to the backseat and then leans into the front of the car to look at Gansey expectantly. He’s making a face that’s about as close to a grimace as a Gansey can get.

“Ronan ran away.”

Adam blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Gansey breathes. Adam feels his newborn worry ebb and blink out.

“Well he’s at home, then. He’s not going to run far from the Barns.”

“That’s what I’d imagined, but he’s nowhere on Lynch property. Blue and I went on a merry hunt all afternoon.”

Adam feels his chest kick and fight and try to make a scene. “And you didn’t tell me until now?” He hates that his voice sounds like the raw insides of undercooked meat, like he’s delicate and bloody.

“Well we thought it was fixable, and you were at work—“

“I’m always at work, Gansey, and it’s never deterred you before. If my— if Ronan really did disappear—“

“He did,” Gansey says emphatically, and Adam frowns.

“Opal—“

“Knocked on my door at 6 am this morning holding this.” He produces a sheet of torn off looseleaf from his breast pocket and hands it to Adam gingerly.

Adam unfolds it.

Tell Adam I’m sorry.

He looks up, swallowing. Gansey’s watching him closely, obviously trying to gauge a response.

“At least he’s started apologizing,” he says weakly, a thin needle of hurt pinning his words together.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s starting anything,” Adam says, his anger and worry taking each other by the throat. “He’s giving up.”

“I think,” Gansey says, “that he’s very bad at grieving.”

“No one’s good at grieving. Not that you’ve ever had to know.”

Gansey recoils. He has a flighty look on his face like he would very much like to abandon this conversation if it weren’t taking place in his most prized possession. “I’m not the one that left, Adam,” he says pointedly, and Adam swears, apologizes, and climbs into the passenger seat.

“Take me to the Barns.”

Gansey looks at him sideways, and Adam would have the pity in his eyes for a punching bag. “He really isn’t there.”

“I know,” Adam says impatiently, “I’m going to steal his car.”

Keep reading

Supergirl AU

Cat Grant knows her assistants are cheating, she just doesn’t know how yet.

She even knows the exact date it started almost two years ago, when suddenly her constant stream of incompetent aides began to improve, to last longer. All her life her assistants have been barely adequate, but for some reason the last handful have gotten sharper and sharper. 

It’s been three weeks with this new one and, while his performance within CatCo is lackluster at best, he has yet to make a single mistake with her coffee or food orders. And if there is one thing Cat values more than all else its what she consumes; she spends all day creating media for the consumption of millions so what she herself takes in is of the highest priority.

This week she had a stress headache and she sent him off with a screech to get her some sustenance. Now she had very low expectations for this, so imagine her surprise when he comes back with a perfectly made bacon wrapped hamburger (her headache guilty pleasure) and a medium latte with just a dash of cinnamon. 

There is no way on Earth that this Witt fellow should know about that. Her guilty pleasures are closely guarded secrets, and Cat Grant has never explicitly told anyone about her infatuation with bacon and cinnamon (both separate and together). And yet when she needed it the most, he just happens to get it exactly right. This assistant hasn’t even made it a month yet; there’s no way he knows this is a weakness of hers.

Which means there’s a snitch somewhere feeding answers to her assistants.

Keep reading

Little witch (Part 4)

Pairings: Peter x reader

Word count: 2 754

Summary: The reader is raised by Hydra but manages to escape after they kill her parents. She is emotionally unstable and can’t control her powers. The Avengers rescue her and give her everything she missed form life and wanted to feel. But would her new found love be enough to extinguish her desire for revenge? What would be the side she would choose to rely on?

A/N: I am so so so so sorry for not posting the next part in two weeks. It’s the end of the school year so I had a lot of exams. Most of the times i was too exhausted to sit in front of the laptop and write. I really want to apologize if this part is not that interesting but i will do my best to post new part every day (but do not promise). Please let me know what you think about it ♥ It’s really important for me to know you opinion about the story :) Enjoy!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Originally posted by kimtaeyoen

“That’s how I burned down part of Hydra’s base.”, (Y/N) spoken softly. Tears that she didn’t know was hiding were now rolling down. Nobody said anything. They were shocked by what the girl went though at the age of seven.

“They were trying to program me. Their intentions were to create fighters better than the Winter Soldier and Black Widow.”

“If they can control them we are have a big problem.”, Tony stated as he tried to emphasize how serious the problem was.

“How many are they?”

“I don’t know”, the last events weren’t leaving her mind, “Probably 8 or less. I don’t know how many survived.”

“As far as we know the base is still whole. You may have burnt down part of it.”, Steve declared as he stood up and began walking.

“What did you feel?”, Bruce asked all of a sudden.

“What do you mean?”

“What did you feel right before you burnt the base?”

“Oh. I- um…fire. Yeah, definitely fire, but not literally. I mean, it was -“

“Relieving? Taking you whole, feeling powerful because of the rage built inside you and yet it somehow calms you down?”, Banner finished her sentence.

“Exactly.”, (Y/N) was amazed by this. Mr. Banner wasn’t lying her when he had said he cannot control his anger that easily.

“What about when we found you?”, Wanda questioned as she understood what Bruce was attempting to o.

“Scared. Naked. Exposed. Breakable.”

“Mixed feeling, paranoia overwhelming you?”

“Yes.”, after some seconds Banner revealed his thoughts making them a statement.

“I think I know what your powers are.”

Ten minutes later the whole gang was in the training room waiting to see what the young witch was capable of.

“Are you sure Mr. Banner?”

“Call me Bruce, please.”, her gave the girl a smile and nodded, “Yes, I am.”

“But how can I control the elements? I mean, how did you find this out?”

“Fire is symbolized by rage, anger. It the Greek Mythology Ares, the furious god of war, is always drawn with red paint and flames around him. Also, when you said a great amount of different feeling overwhelmed you, it showed me that you can control earth. When we found you, your first action was to use those spikes to warn or kill the people trying to disturb you. Earth is believed to give humans stability. So basically your powers had tried to calm your mind down by using the ground as a weapon. But when Peter entered you shelter you were again taken by your fears making unstable and unpredictable like the wind.”

“So my emotional condition affects my powers?”

“That’s right. So now we would try to teach you how to use them without letting the emotions taking you over.”, Steve patted the girl on her shoulder.

“What if I hurt you?”

“Do not worry about us.”, Tony smiled in order to reassure her.

Ten minutes later all the Avengers were in a shield created by Wanda with her powers in the second floor of the training room. It wasn’t a whole floor just a part of it from where the instructor could watch or could enter the premises.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present you the great Avengerrrrs.”, (Y/N) ‘announced’ with a sarcastic tone in her formal voice, “Good to know old men and women are scared of a puny girl.”, Wanda who was standing against the girl laughed as she saw her friends trying to protect themselves in the shield she had created.

“Hey, don’t blame us that we value our lives and want to keep them as longer as possible.”, Tony acted as a drama queen placing his hand over  the place where his heart was supposed to be.

“Guys, you must accept it. She is right.”

“Why don’t you shut up and show the girl whatever you are going to show her.”

“As you wish Mr. Stank.”, Wanda retorted back and turned around to face (Y/N). The girl was nervous as she was able to see. Her hands were slightly shaking and she kept rubbing them against her clothes in order to remove the sweat, “So, I am going to attack you. Don’t worry i won’t hurt you. You just have to try to protect yourself somehow by using your energy. Just before that do not panic about the situation, that’s the most important thing you have to do. Breathe and then try to look deep inside you, searching for the power you want. Think about it, think how you want it to look, what and how you are going to do with it.”, the girl nodded but she felt nothing from this instructions was going to be fulfilled.

Wanda’s fingers were moving and seconds later they were shining in red but the woman wasn’t attacking her yet. (Y/N) did her best to follow the advice. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She had four powers and only one was able to protect her right now– air. The girl remembered the feeling when she had attacked Peter. The air was tickling the tips if her fingers. She looked for that feeling again but nothing happened. No strange feeling inside her, no power felt. She opened her eyes just in time to see Wanda’s magic coming towards her. She kneeled down to avoid it.

“Don’t give up. It won’t happen from the first time.”, Steve said.

The girl inhaled and exhaled deeply this time trying with another power. There wasn’t ground or water her so she had to use fire. This time was the same failure.

“Nothing is happening.”, the girl stated after her seventh attempt, “I feel nothing inside me, only darkness. Guess why? Because my fucking eyes are fucking closed!”  

“Language!”, Steve called from inside the shield.

“Sorry.”, the girl gave the man an innocent smile but deep inside her she was feeling the same way as she had felt in the Hydra base – as a failure, miserable failure that cannot do anything. What was she doing here? Why did she even trust those guys? Why the hell was she thinking the brown haired teenager is attractive? A lot of questions suddenly filled her mind making her feel odd, questioning all her actions since she exploded part of the base. What is she even?

“Earth to (Y/N)! Are you listening?”, Peter’s voice took her out of the trans she had been immersed in.

“Yes…no, sorry! It’s just… I’m sucking. I can’t protect myself by creating a stupid shield from air or fire. I don’t know how to use my powers and how to control them! It’s driving me crazy when I am failing at things. Especially this!”, the girl shouted as soon as despair filled her body. She wasn’t going to give up, no. She was going to fight with teeth until she reached the final but all those events that happened in the last three days…it was too heavy for her to bear.

“(Y/n), hey, you can do it. I know you can. You’ve gone through a lot and this…this stupid thing cannot stop you. You are brave, you are-”, Peter had approached the red shield separating the two teenagers that were slowly falling under the love curse of each other. His voice was soft, his intentions good and it was felt. But the girl was too gentle. Not like a flower that would break under a slightly rougher touch, but like a bomb that was going to explode if the person holding her didn’t know how to defuse it. Peter was from those who were about to get killed because of the wrong actions he made.

“You don’t know me to tell me what I am! I do not know what I am!”, she screamed at the boy. Her body was moving on its own. For a moment (Y/N) felt as a prisoner. She was seeing what she was doing but she couldn’t control herself. The girl felt it, the power that was running through her veins, that was slowly taking control of her hands, mind, thoughts…Her hands were on fire. She moved them towards the shield sending a fire orb. At first the shield swallowed it but then it began swelling and the fire finally was in charge. The shield was now like a cell keeping its victims. The small prison was causing troubles with their ability to inhale. Wanda did something and the small hell torture was gone. The girl was standing there, her feet glued to the ground not letting her move. She was like a living stone – looking unbreakable and hard but this event causing her to crack from inside. When she saw the avengers’ looks she finally felt what she was trying to hide. She was a dangerous weapon, the desired weapon from Hydra that could kill thousands of people without caring at first place. She felt guilt, but more important – part of her felt good.

“I told you we would need a shield.”, Tony stated as he and the rest of the group gave it a try to stand up. Most of them were shocked about what had happened. Of course, not about themselves but the girl. She was shocked – looking at a spot on the wall between the heads of her victims, not moving, pale as snow. Her bottom lip was shaking as her hands did.

“I-I…I am -”, they all knew she was going to apologize but it was hard for her to find the right words.

“Hey, kid, we are used to having our asses kicked. You haven’t hurt anyone, no need to worry.”, Steve rushed towards (Y/N) in order to calm the girl down. He knew what Hydra was capable of and what the girl had gone through was infernal. It would have been unnatural if she was stable.

“But I could have.”, Steve saw the tears forming in her (y/e/c) eyes. Seeing this little girl beside him made his heart shrink. How could he not see the broken, the innocent, the lost girl? He only thought of her as a way Hydra to entice them…He was supposed to be a superhero, to have faith in everything, to see the good in every bad. The blonde man had no idea what to say as though a cat had gotten his tongue. He opened his mouth to say something, to help this little girl who had lost everything in her life but he closed it seconds later.

Wanda came closer as she knew (Y/N) trusted her more than the others. Peter followed her actions but as soon as they were next to the girl she ran away.

“(Y/N)!”, Peter called after the girl and was about to run after her but Steve grabbed him, “She needs help!”, he demanded and tried to  escape the strong grip with no luck.

“She needs to be alone with herself right now, Pete. I think we might have damaged her more rather than helping.”

The next week (Y/N) was distant. She talked only with Wanda and Bruce and trained only with them. The others tried to make her feel as at home she never had but the girl was barely giving in. She was stubborn, that was for sure, but with nights spent at her room with Wanda she understood how wrong her actions are.

“You are not doing anything bad, but how they are trying to help and you should not be scared that you will hurt them. I know how you feel. When I began my training here I wasn’t as good as now, I almost crashed the training room down.”, the woman laughed at the thought that just appeared in her head, “I remember Tony’s face when he came down and saw one of the walls missing.”

“Really?”. The girl laughed along with her new best friend.

“Yes. He made me practice outside even after he repaired it.”, Wanda looked at (Y/N) feeling her as the little sister she never had, “See, no matter what happens they are going to be your family only if you let them. They are strange I can assume, we had out times of division but we came back together.”

It was 8.00 pm. (Y/N) was lying on her bed thinking about Wanda’s words as she tent to do the last three days. The girl felt Wanda as a sister she could trust. She believed her and knew that all the things she had told her were true. Strangely this people were trying to give her a home, to give her a family and she was backing. Why? Was it because it was happening too fast? Maybe because it felt so unreal that it was more possible to be Hydra test than a part of the reality? Only in her first day here she told them her whole story, she was given a private room, they tried to help her with her powers. And what did she do? She almost killed them and ran away crying like a baby…Yeah, a really good first impression. The girl had to accept the information that Hydra was away, not torturing her, not going after her or if they did, she was safe here with people to protect her and teach her how to do the same.

For a week she slightly improved her powers. Well, she still wasn’t able to control them but for now she didn’t need to be so angry to use any of her powers. The girl was trying to use the built in her rage to call her powers instead of letting the anger take control over her. (Y/N) was happy with the results for only one week and this success was one of the things encouraging her to go to the living room where the Avengers were meeting every night to eat and relax somehow.

(Y/N) stood up and looked in the mirror. She was wearing pink pajamas with unicorns on them which was definitely not her style. But what could she do? Wanda was too happy to call somebody a sister… The witch opened the wardrobe. The first time she did so she was amazed how big it was and most importantly that it was full of clothes fitting her perfectly. Now, she was kind of used to it but not at all. The girl took out comfortable jeans and a pale blue t-shirt. After dressing up she exited the room. Taking a deep breath she guided her legs towards the living room which was on the floor below. As she reached the glass door she looked inside. They were all scattered around the room – some on the sofas, some on the armchairs, and some on the floor. (Y/N) inhaled and exhaled deeply and then opened the door. The Avengers didn’t hear it because they were immersed in their conversation but e certain one did with his super senses.

The boy turned around and as the two lovebirds, as Tony liked to call them, saw each other they both stopped doing whatever they were for a moment. (Y/N) looked directly at Peter and for a moment it was only the two of them. The girl hated this feeling but as she had no powers in her emotions, neither on her hearth.

“(Y/N)!”, Wanda exclaimed and ran towards her to give her a hug. The Avengers looked at the girl surprised.

“Ms. (Y/N)!”, Thor came and ruffled her hair, “I am so happy to see you there.”, by his voice, the girl understood he had drank something but his relaxed behavior around her, the fact he was himself made her smile.

“Hello everyone!”, she greeted the gang and sat down next to Wanda and opposite Peter who was now giving her e reassuring smile. She smiled back, “Can I have a slice?”, she asked as the witch pointed at the three pizzas in front of her.

“Of course!”, Tony answered as he poured another glass of alcohol, “But hurry up because Thor is going to eat them all.”

(Y/N) laughed and joined the Avengers that night. At first she thought she wouldn’t fit there but she couldn’t have been more wrong. This was the first time from ages she felt happy again, she felt loved and welcomed. She wasn’t scared anymore, neither in pain. She was feeling young, carefree, free as a teenager should feel. The witch felt normal and for once in her whole life, she forgot about the nightmares that chased her each night.  

Part 5 

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bungledramblingsofalesbianmind  asked:

Supercorp prompt! I've always had this headcanon that if anyone asked Kara to name her favorite physical feature about herself, she would say the tiny scar on her eyebrow b/c it happened to her as a child on Krypton and it's a lasting physical reminder of the life/planet/family she used to have. She gets to look in the mirror every day and see it. I'd love to read (if you're interested in writing it!) you take on that convo with Lena...

Kara is not mysterious.

She’s not, though she makes a valiant attempt at it. She’s secretive and brilliant and more than talented at putting on an act, but she’s not mysterious. While there are dozens of things that don’t make sense about her, she has a refreshing habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, consequences be damned, and even if Lena doesn’t understand what Kara does, she certainly can follow why.

Which is why the eyebrow thing is so…confusing.

Keep reading

Some long thoughts on a few #Gates

Right, I’m back and plan on reopening my asks soon-ish. Before I do that, though, I just want to address a few of the big dramas that unfolded in my absence. This is mainly so that I won’t end up addressing these questions through various ask replies, so if I don’t respond to your message it’s probably because I’ve said the last thing I’m going to say about it here. Onward!

On #RomanceGate

As we have previously established thanks to a tweet from David Kamp with the full, unedited transcript of the excerpt of the interview pertinent to romance, the published Vanity Fair article did not fully reflect what Rian was actually trying to say about the question of romance in Episode VIII. The Vanity Fair article said this:

FIVE THINGS THAT ARE NOT IN THE LAST JEDI

A big, central-to-the-plot romance. For all the fan-fiction fantasies of “Reylo” (an imagined union of Daisy Ridley’s Rey and Adam Driver’s Kylo Ren) or “Stormpilot” (the same, for John Boyega’s ex-stormtrooper Finn and Oscar Isaac’s pilot Poe Dameron), Johnson says that The Last Jedi offers “no one-to-one equivalent of the Han-to-Leia, burning, unrequited love. In our story, that’s not a centerpiece.”

And this is what was actually said between Kamp and Johnson in the interview:

Now, what initially seemed to rule out any inclusion of romance in The Last Jedi actually suggests something quite different - Rian seems to be saying that he was keen to include a big, sweeping romance, but that when it came to it the characters didn’t seem to be in the right place for that to happen. He doesn’t at all rule out subtle traces of romance or flirtation (as Kamp highlights in his tweet), thus the classic ‘wait and see’-style response. 

It is also very important to point out that the references to Reylo and StormPilot were clearly Kamp editorialising. While terms like ‘imagined’ and ‘fan-fiction fantasies’ sting to anyone familiar with all of the misogynistic BS female fans have to deal with for daring to be interested in the human relationships in these stories, as I see it the references to popular ships are simply there to provide context for the mainstream audience and boost SEO rankings. Rian Johnson has been very emphatic about distancing himself from Kamp’s phrasing, and the full quote makes it clear that no specific relationships were raised in the context of the original interview.

So, while I still think we need to be cautious and keep expectations for an overt Reylo romance in The Last Jedi low (as Rian says, there is no central romance plot in his film), I certainly think that the full quote should relieve the anxiety that love and attraction won’t be in play to some extent. Although I don’t think that we’re going to get a Reylo kiss (that’s my opinion re. The Last Jedi - come back to me after December to get my thoughts on Episode IX), it clearly isn’t out of the question that The Last Jedi will progress Rey and Kylo so that they are ready for a full-blown romance in the next film. I can’t stress enough that Rey and Kylo end The Force Awakens on different sides, with Kylo having killed his father and Rey having just slashed Kylo’s face open. They both have huge personal journeys to go on (Rey has to come into her own in the Force, and Kylo has to wake up to Snoke’s evil and show remorse for his terrible mistakes) before they can truly go on a journey together. Essentially, to progress from the current state of affairs to a consummated love affair in the space of a single movie would, to put it mildly, be pushing it. 

Speaking for myself, I would be ecstatic if The Last Jedi simply shows Rey and Kylo developing empathy and perhaps even compassion for each other. Rey has already defeated Kylo in a duel, so their journey together going forward won’t simply be one of antagonism - as J.J. said in his commentary (which was recorded after he had read the script for The Last Jedi), Kylo is “a character who [Rey’s] going to have a very interesting relationship with moving forward”. In short, I have no fear that the dynamic between Rey and Kylo Ren is going to remain static or be less important going forward. Rey and Kylo are crucial to each other’s stories, and we have every reason to believe that Rian is honouring that. 

On #PlotGate

These are the tweets that started the famous #PlotGate:

Now, this actually didn’t worry me at all. But why would I - one of the people who has written thousands of words analysing the minutia of The Force Awakens - be unconcerned by the suggestion that Rian could do whatever the hell he wanted in The Last Jedi? Why am I not freaking out when there doesn’t seem to be a plan for the trilogy?

Well, the simple answer is that I’m not alarmed because these kinds of sentiments are far from new. From the very beginning, the narrative has always been that each filmmaker has a considerable degree of freedom to tell the story they want to tell. For a great explanation of how the early development of The Last Jedi worked, see this quote from J.J. Abrams from November 2015 (particularly the bold bits):

The script for VIII is written. I’m sure rewrites are going to be endless, like they always are. But what Larry and I did was set up certain key relationships, certain key questions, conflicts. And we knew where certain things were going. We had meetings with Rian and Ram Bergman, the producer of VIII. They were watching dailies when we were shooting our movie. We wanted them to be part of the process, to make the transition to their film as seamless as possible. I showed Rian an early cut of the movie, because I knew he was doing his rewrite and prepping. And as executive producer of VIII, I need that movie to be really good. Withholding serves no one and certainly not the fans. So we’ve been as transparent as possible. Rian has asked for a couple of things here and there that he needs for his story. He is an incredibly accomplished filmmaker and an incredibly strong writer. So the story he told took what we were doing and went in the direction that he felt was best but that is very much in line with what we were thinking as well. But you’re right—that will be his movie; he’s going to do it in the way he sees fit. He’s neither asking for nor does he need me to oversee the process.

There are endless quotes from J.J. and Kathleen Kennedy supporting this picture, and I think this is exactly as it should be. Rian is not making The Last Jedi in a vacuum - he is building it on the foundation set by The Force Awakens, and had a say on the development and presentation of that film so that it would weave seamlessly into his movie. Rian even reiterated this sentiment himself in the main Vanity Fair article on The Last Jedi:

J.J. and Larry and Michael set everybody up in a really evocative way in VII and started them on a trajectory.

Rian is insistent on stressing his independence as a filmmaker at every stage because people are keen to paint him as a slave to the Walt Disney Company’s whims. At every turn, he has to deal with people assuming that The Last Jedi will repeat the trick played by The Force Awakens by mirroring its famous and beloved antecedent - for The Force Awakens this was Star Wars, and people expect it to be The Empire Strikes Back for The Last Jedi. Understandably, Rian wants to stress that The Last Jedi is his baby - it’s infused with his own creativity rather than studio notes and nostalgia. 

But, at the same time, that doesn’t mean that Rian can do whatever the hell he wants. I can almost guarantee that Rian would have received furious correctional notes if he had tried to pitch a story where Rey Rey Binks died in the second act. There will be certain strands established in The Force Awakens that The Last Jedi will nurture and evolve, and Rian will be taking pre-existing characters and relationships and building on them further. As Pablo appeased an anxious fan on Twitter:

In short, there absolutely is collaboration - between the individual filmmakers, and between the filmmakers and Lucasfilm. Rian is free to tell the story he wants to tell, but that story has a baseline in The Force Awakens and also has a responsibility to establish a platform for Colin Trevorrow to build on with Episode IX. The filmmakers are talking to each other, and there is absolutely collaboration and handoff between them so that these film will ultimately make sense as a trilogy as well as on their own terms. 

In other words, I really don’t see much to worry about. I have seen nothing but praise for the script for The Last Jedi, and Rian’s filmography amply demonstrates his talent as both a writer and a director. 

I’m as excited for The Last Jedi as I ever was, so I hope I’ve been able to put some people’s minds to rest with this. Bring on December!

In case any of you are having a bad day or just need a laugh

Please try to picture this as Lance with Keith, Hunk, and Pidge. I will be playing the role of Lance, and Allura and Shiro can be my parents. Enjoy.
~~~~~
Okay so I was never a rebellious kid growing up. Never got secret tattoos or piercings, never had a significant other who microwaved hamsters or some shit like that. I was the golden child. Respectful, kind, always did my chores and took care of my younger siblings. Blah blah. But that didn’t mean I had a rebellious streak that would come to life at some moments. One moment occurred when I was 16, almost 17. I had asked my parent if I could stay out with a group of my friends and they said no. I was cool about it at first but as the day progressed, I got angry. Why wouldn’t they let me hang out with my friends at night? We weren’t going to do anything illegal (not a first that is but I’ll get to that later), so why had they refused. I was the poster child of good kids. So I made up my mind. I was going to sneak out.

Night came around and I’m not gonna lie, I was hella nervous. Complete with sweaty palms and written will if I got caught. So when my mom and dad went to bed, I sprung into action. Mission Impossible was playing in my head as I stuffed my bed with extra pillows and blankets, completing the look with a volleyball with a very stringy cheap wig that wasn’t even the same color as my hair. I though I was a genius. So then I faced my next challenge: actually sneak out of the house. The problem is, my room was on the second floor. So you know what I did? I tried to climb out of my window, onto the tree, and gently climb down the the soft grass below. Why didn’t I just sneak downstairs and through the front door? ‘Cause that was just obviously too easy (also, they didn’t do that in the movies). So I send a short prayer and start to climb out the window.

I immediately bang my head on the glass and let out a very loud “FUCK!!” Shortly after, my mom says “Charlotte! What did you just say?!” Being the golden (HA!!) child that I am, I never curse. So, heart pounding, I responded “I-I said DUCK! Yeah, um I could’ve sworn I seen one fly by my window and it scared me!” “…well alright, but keep it quiet dear! Your dad and I are trying to sleep!” I said a quick okay and waited for about ten minutes with my leg still hanging out of the window, too scared to try to move. When the coast was clear, I started my descent. Growing up climbing trees my whole life, this was supposed to be a breeze. But remember my sweaty palms? Yeah well, next thing I knew, my hand slipped from the branch and I can tumbling down. Luckily, I wasn’t far off the ground and landed with a thud. The grass wasn’t as soft as it looked. I cut up my hands and knees, and they were bleeding pretty badly, but I didn’t give up. I was finally out. So, I made my way to find my friends.

After walking for about a mile and a half, I met up with my friends at our local library (were really hardcore okay). It was past midnight, so almost all the shops were closed, the only ones being open were bars and we were all underaged. My friends noticed my bleeding palms and bloody torn jeans and then proceed to laugh at me when I told them what happened. And then we faced our next challenge: what the hell were we gonna do? You see, we hadn’t planned to do anything. We honestly never thought we would get this far. So we just started walking around town, joking around, talking about the future..aesthetic teenage stuff. Until one of them suggested we brake into own town’s swimming pool (this is where the illegal part comes in). I didn’t agree at first, but ultimately agreed with them. So our journey continued.

We got to the pool, and of course it was locked. But luckily, I just happened to have a bobby pin in my hair and watching a lot of spy and action movies, so I offered to pick the lock. Twenty minutes later, the bobby pin had been launched and I had resulted to kicking the lock and spewing every curse word I knew, even making up my own. I was about o suggest we forget it and go somewhere else when a police cruiser rolls up. I immediately pale and was really glad I wrote that will. The policeman was in his early 20s and was completely shredded, muscles pulsating with a five o'clock shadow on his face. Note that when I get nervous, I babble. I have zero filter and I speak what I think. So, I noticed that he was wearing sunglasses. And it was night. Why the fuck was he wearing sunglasses past midnight? So I asked him. In response, he took off his sunglasses and arched an eyebrow at me and my friends. I lock eyes with the man and this is where I fuck up. I cross my arms and you know what I say to the man, the cop? “Oh now I see. You wear those sunglasses to protect us civilians. Cause right now, I’m getting lost in your eyes.” Completing that sentence with, I shit you not, finger guns and a smirk. This earns a smack on the head from one of my friends while the others groan and shake their heads. Thankfully, the cop was amused and shook his head.

The cop then asked us what we were doing out this late and at the pool, and we quickly made up the story that one of my friends though she left her phone at the pool and wanted to get it back but the pool was locked. We could tell the policeman didn’t completely buy it, but he let us go with a warning. We scurried our way back into town, thinking we were in the clear. We were talking about how close of a call that was, when a set of headlights appeared behind us and stopped. My heart dropped to my stomach when I realized whose car the was. It was my dad’s. And sure enough, my dad comes storming out of the car and my friends scatter, while I’m frozen in fear. My mom followed my dad shortly after, just as furious. We’ll skip the scolding and the grounding and the tears for the sake of time and my dignity. The carried wasn’t pleasant and my parents marched me back to my room and scolded me some more. After they were satisfied (for now) they went back downstairs to their room. About thirty minutes pass and I hear my door creak open. It was one of my younger sisters. Not saying anything, she comes up to me, pats me on the head, and kisses my cheek. Then she slowly draws back and looks me dead in the eyes and whispers “That’s for eating the last Oreo.” and skips out of my room. It takes a few seconds and then it clicks.
“YOU RATTED ME OUT FOR A FUCKING OREO?!?!”
“CHARLOTTE JANE WATSON, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!”

Moral of the story kids: Never eat the last damn Oreo.

When Quiet Is Violent - Part 3 (End)

Masterlist  -  Part 1  -   Part 2

Summary: You’re retired, living a quiet and secure life when your ex, Steve Rogers, turns up on your doorstep with his best friend, seeking refuge. (bucky x reader, enhanced reader)

Prompt(s): Okay I know I already wrote Night Walks with these prompts but I really wasn’t happy with it, so here is attempt #2. @pandarositarequest: 93 and 94… but Reader being upset rather than Bucky?

93.“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”
94. “I had a bad dream again.”
Plus anon request: 64 “Here, take my blanket.”

Warnings: swearing, fighting, deathy stuff and the aftermath.

Word Count: 3671

Author’s Note: The angst train’s brakes aren’t working. Prepare for a trainwreck. :) Remember that I love you.

Originally posted by dewiedawn

 Tony finally made it to the end of your long drive and stepped out of his car. Pieces of polished red metal immediately shifting into place around his body as you stepped down from the porch, looking casual and unassuming.

“Y’know most people call first,” you called to him, testing the waters, “and it works out for everyone, see, because then I can tell them to rent an SUV with snow tires, not a…” you paused, leaning to the side to peer around him at the flashy car that was just so Tony. “Bugatti?”

“Really? I thought you liked surprises?” he fired back, walking casually to the front of the car, face mask open, holding his hands out to the side in mock surprise.

“Is the car the surprise?”

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Yellow Diamond in Wanted

I dont normally post a lot of stuff about the show/fandom aside from my initial reaction to it, but I actually feel like I have my thoughts on this together enough to do so in this case. This post is long and full of my opinions so I’ll put it under the cut for those of you who dont want it clogging your dash, or if you dont want spoilers.

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All that Jazz - Sirius Black x Reader (smut)

[Request: Hi could I request a Sirius imagine where reader and Sirius have an argument and like hanging out with the Marauders becomes awkward as the two make sarcastic remarks and stuff. But after a few days there’s too much tension and make up smut (quite rough) but the Marauders walk in and are like ‘well I guess you guys made up then’ xxx
Warnings: SMUT/ kink/ my English/not that great? Idk!
I don’t own the gifs/ Credits to their original owners. Also, thank you @ra-veela-claw  for the gentle push!
Thank you for requesting!]
Masterlist 
Requests are open!


You were struggling to study and remain calm at the same time because, in all honesty, all you wanted to do was flip the damn table over and burn your notes. It was soul sucking. Merlin knows how long you have been studying. You have been studying for hours upon hours. You weren’t that studious usually and you would prefer to be with your boyfriend but alas! N.E.W.T.S. 

“You’ve been studying all the day. And yesterday. And the day before. I missed you” Sirius said while he played with a strand of your hair affectionately
“I know, love. I just need to study for the exams. It’s not like I can fail” you said while you tucked the strand he was playing with behind your ear. He was pouting.
“Come on! Let’s do something fun! I feel abandoned” he murmured while he started pecking your neck. You let out a heavy breath. You can’t give up now. It’s only one more chapter after all!
“Cut it out Siri” you pulled away from his kisses. You wouldn’t be able to resist him any longer if he kept doing that.
“Jeez, woman!” he said mocking you. You really didn’t need that kind of attitude right now.
“Stop it! I need to study. You may not care about your future, but I do. So leave me the fuck alone!” you snapped at him. You weren’t really that mad but it came out that way. Truth is, you were bottling things up. Like how he didn’t care about the exams or anything, that is. He seemed to be so laid back and chilled out when you were studying your ass off and still- you hadn’t even finished one book.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spat cruelly at you, causing your mind to shut down. With you? What was wrong with him?
“I am not the one who doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything. I want to do something with my life. I don’t want to waste it away because I was so stupid to throw every chance out of the window. I have goals and aspirations”. You were yelling at him by now. You just didn’t understand how someone could throw his life away to have fun. Fun. How fun will it be when he can’t even find a job?
“Screw this” he yelled at you, venom spreading through his words into your blood. He just stood up and left. And took all of the air with him. For a while, you felt numb and you tried to regain focus. Nothing seemed to work and soon tears were streaming down your face, sobs echoing around you, silent at first, deafening after a while.
You grabbed the books and threw them at the wall while ripping your notes apart and creating a chaos.  
Great.
Lily marched in. Your legs gave away and you crashed the floor.
Perfect.

Dinner was… Heartbreaking. You were sitting alongside the girls. They were talking about the next Hogsmeade trip and how beneficial a day off would be. You wouldn’t dare to look up because he was sitting there with his friends, laughing and girls were right beside him. Too many girls. Not you. You were mad and sad and mad. You literally wanted to scream at them that he was yours… but was he? The only thing you wanted to do after the argument was to apologize to him because you just didn’t mean it. You didn’t want to yell at him. He wasn’t the problem. The exam thing was just too overwhelming and you… Oh, great you thought to yourself. Here they come. They sat right across you. You had to keep your posture.
“Lily-pad! How is it you look so ravishing every day?” James flirted. Lily just rolled her eyes and offered him a forced smile.
“We are already dating James” she simply stated. Yeah, like that would do it. The guy never stopped flirting with her.
“At least she isn’t screwing you over studying”. He didn’t. Your mouth agape. Fine, two can play this game.
“I’m not listening, but keep talking. I enjoy the way your voice makes my ears bleed” you said sarcastically, making eye contact with him for the first time. He raised an eyebrow.
“I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong” he returned. You felt like punching him straight in the face.
“Are you always this retarded or are you making a special effort today?”. Who would have guessed that you could go this cocky?
“If it looks like I give a damn, please tell me. I don’t want to give off the wrong impression” he continued. You rose from your seat. You wanted to scream and punch and kick the hell out of him.
“I’d insult you, but the sad truth is that you wouldn’t understand and if I tried to explain it to you, your brain might implode from information overload” you spat at him. You were glaring daggers at each other. Every student was staring at you two. Your friends were trying to distract you from each other but every attempt failed.
“Why are you here?” he growled. You faked an innocent smile and batted your eyelashes.
“Wow, you sound better with your mouth closed” you answered too sweetly. You walked away from your friends and made your way towards the exit. What you couldn’t realize though was that even though you were furious at him, you actually found him so damn hot.

The same scene was playing on repeat. Every time you two were in the same room, doing as much as breathing the same air, the world would stop spinning and sarcastic, mean even, remarks would be exchanged. Your friends tried to reason both of you but nothing could change the fact that he was an ass to you and that you were an ass to him.
You were currently about to enter their room because Lily made you the messenger. She wanted you to tell James to meet her in the Astronomy Tower. You were fuming at your friend but you did owe her that much.
When you did enter the room, however, James wasn’t there. In fact, no one was there but the very person you wanted to slap. He was shirtless. That was a sight that never failed to make you blush. He was gorgeous and he knew it.
“You’re not that lucky and I’m not that desperate!” he exclaimed. But you’ve had enough. More than enough.
“Yes. Yes, you are” you whispered, your voice stripped from any sarcasm. It was the truth. It had been one week and two days since this crazy thing had begun. You haven’t touched each other for what seemed like, forever. You’d lie if you said that you didn’t miss his hands on your body, his lips on your face.
You took a few steps closer. You could feel the heat that his body radiated.
“And Merlin knows, I am” you breathed out, inches away. Your hot breath fell on his lips, sending shivers down his spine.
[SMUT UNDER THE CUT]  

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By The Beautiful Sea

@idoobeg | AO3 - I had so much fun writing this!! fluff and cuteness abound! hope you enjoy it ;)

by @clotpolesonly

Stiles gets the very last scoop of salt water taffy ice cream, much to the chagrin of the gorgeous dude behind him in line. The gigantic stray dog is thrilled though, at least when Stiles gives in to the begging and lets him have half of it. The beautiful woman across the street thinks it’s all hilarious for some reason, and Scott just really needs to try this ice cream.


“Dude, you’re gonna have to come out here. Like, as soon as possible,” Stiles said with all the vehemence he could muster when his phone was slowly slipping further and further from where it was squeezed between his cheek and his shoulder, jostled by every hurried step he took. “I’m telling you, this town may be small and boring as fuck, but it’s got the best ice cream on the goddamn planet and one scoop will totally be worth a day trip out here.”

“A day trip where I’ll spend ten hours of that day driving?” Scott asked, not sounding enthused. “It’s five hours there and five hours back! Do you know how much studying I could get done in that time?”

Stiles started to roll his eyes, but he’d always been an exaggerated eye-roller so he had to abort that mission before his phone took a dive for real. His hands abandoned their quest for the wallet he couldn’t seem to grab hold of in his messenger bag in order to save the aforementioned phone. His eyes finally caught on that blessed candy-striped awning across the street and his feet automatically carried him off the sidewalk and into the path of an oncoming car, which honked at him repeatedly. Stiles didn’t even slow down, but he did offer the driver an apologetic wave as he passed in front of them.

“A weekend trip, then,” he said to Scott. “Seriously, man. Worth it. This ice cream is nirvana in a waffle cone. Your professors will understand if they have any human decency in their hearts.”

“I don’t know, bro,” Scott said with a sigh. “Summer semester is kicking my ass. It’s all the same info as the regular semester, just crammed into even fewer weeks. I really don’t know if I can afford to wast—”

The tinkle of the bell above the door was a choir of angels in Stiles’ ear. The little ice cream parlor smelled of heavenly sugary goodness and he was already drooling. He’d only found this place two days ago when he’d elected to wander the little seaside town alone instead of follow his dad out on the dinky fishing boat owned by one of his dad’s old army buddies, but even just two days had proved more than enough to get him addicted.

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anonymous asked:

prompt where Izuku got AfO instead of OfA, but instead uses it for heroics / doesn't use it at all / uses it as a vigilante / uses it to mess with villains? (basically any non villain AfO!Izuku as all of them are evil WHY MY GREEN SON WHY)

A.N - I see Dadzawa and Dad Might in this AU’s future. Copious amounts of it.

0-0-0-0-0

“I think,” Nezu says as the teachers wind down their meeting concerning the construction of UA Heights dorm facility. “That it would be best to include ‘him’ in this roster of students.”

Immediately, a good portion of the teachers straighten in their seats. The rest look confused by the suddenly serious mood in the room.

“Nezu sir, who is ‘him’?” Midnight asks politely.

Nezu smiles. “You’ve never met. His existence only came onto our radar about three years ago, and since then its been on a strictly need-to-know basis. Especially with our little mole friend still running amuck. However–” He looks to All Might, and then to Aizawa. “I think it best to at least give you an outline of him. Not the whole picture, but an outline. Perhaps you two would do the honors?”

All Might nods. “I’ll explain. Three years ago, during my fight with All For One, I encountered the boy he’d chosen as his heir.”

Shocked breaths spattered the room. “Did you capture him?” Cementoss asks.

All Might surprises them all by smiling. “There was no need. The boy had been forcibly taken from his home - he was Quirkless, you see - and made to inherit Sensei’s Quirk. However, as far as the boy was concerned, he simply wanted to go home. He had no interest in the lessons Sensei and his cohorts attempted to drill into him, or in battling me or any of the other heroes. So I took him home.”

“You did what?!” Calls of outrage fill the air, but Nezu shushes them, and gestures to Aizawa.

Shota sighs. “He’s been under our surveillance for the last three years. Not once has he been in contact with any source of villain life - in fact, several of these last month’s missions have been because of his intel. He doesn’t use All For One unless it’s by our request, and even then he’s extremely belligerent in which Quirk from the roster he uses. He’s a brat that mutters and strategizes, and yet hopelessly throws himself into battle if it’s for the good of someone else. He’s as far from villain material as you could possibly hope to get, so don’t go thinking you’re going to get some kind of evil creepy twirling his mustache.”

“He’s also something of a hermit, sad to say,” All Might continues. “A lot of people hear ‘All For One’ and immediately assume the worst. Shota and I are pretty much the only ones besides Nezu-sensei here he trusts. I know it’s a lot to take in, but just wait. You’ll see for yourselves he’s absolutely no threat to us or the children, or the community at large.”

“And if you can’t look past his Quirk,” Aizawa picks up, and this time there’s an undercurrent of steel in his voice, the same steel he shows when fixing to launch himself into battle, or when he’s about to smack someone down for saying something stupid about his students. “Then say so now, so I can remove your presence from his line of sight. He scares easily, and I won’t have you spooking him back into his shell when we’ve worked so hard to coax him out even this much. You want to make him a villain in your head? Fine, but leave the rest of us out of it.”

There’s a long silence at that. Its rare for Shota to be so openly protective of anyone - but the fact that All Might is looking much the same paints a portrait everyone’s learned to recognize. This student, whoever they are, is respected and protected by both men.

“I wouldn’t mind meeting him,” Midnight breaks the silence after a minute. “So long as he doesn’t slack off in class or try to cheat, I’m fine with him being here.”

“As am I,” Cementoss agrees. “If he wishes to learn, he is more than welcome here.”

Several others murmur their agreement as well. 

“I’ll hold my judgement until after I meet him,” Blood King says, not unkindly. “While I will agree not to look at him as a potential villain, even you must agree that knowing we have a student with the same Quirk as that man is going to take some time to get used to. But I will do my best to treat him the same as any of the others.”

Snipe and Hound Dog both agree with Blood King. It’s not the ideal situation, but it’s clear everyone in the room is at least willing to give the boy a chance. It’s the best they can hope for.

“Well then,” Nezu says, warmth filling his voice. “Eraserhead, would you do the honors?”

“Don’t I always?” The man asks, pushing up and heading for the door.

“Where’s he going?” Mic asks.

“To retrieve our new student.” Nezu claps his paws together. “Eraserhead is the only one who can truly unroot our boy. All Might comes close, but he still has a long way to go before he can get there.”

All Might smiles. “Aizawa and he share much in the way of personality. I’m afraid I’m too much of an extrovert for him and I to really click the way he and Aizawa do.”

“Ah,” several teachers say.

“Introvert,” Mic mutters, a grin on his face. “That’s what they’re calling it now?”

0-0-0-0-0-0

The walk to Izuku’s apartment is short. The boy had agreed, during one of their first tense meetings together, to live close to U.A High in case Nezu or All Might needed his assistance with something. It makes it easier for Shota to reach him, but it also makes it harder at the same time, because the boy seems to fight that much harder to be left alone when he’s living so close. Plus, he’s complained more than once that the noise levels just drive him mad. 

Well, if he doesn’t like noise levels now, he’s really going to hate them in UA Heights. 

When he reaches the apartment, he doesn’t bother knocking. He reaches into his belt for a hidden compartment where he keeps a key Izuku had pressed into his hand a month after that first meeting, muttering something about trusting his judgement before shoving him out the door. To say Aizawa was shocked by the show of trust, especially given what he’d learned about the boy personality-wise was… a pale word, to tell the truth of it. 

He unlocks the door, and opens in. He frowns when he sees the electricity isn’t gone. Flipping the switch does nothing. The room next door has light, which makes him frown even harder. The electricity bill should have been paid - UA was the one paying for it, after all. 

“Izu?” he calls. He hears something shuffling in the dark. It sounds like a familiar sleeping bag. He crouches down - it goes a long way to make Izuku feel better without someone looming over him. “Come on little hermit, Nezu wants to see you. Where are you at?”

A groan penetrates the darkness. “Close the door,” a voice orders. “S’too bright.”

Aizawa huffs at that, but obediently steps inside and closes the door. A second later, there’s a weak clap, and light comes on. And that’s when Aizawa’s eyebrows shoot up.

The apartment is a mess. There’s no food cartons or anything like that, but blankets are strewn about, the lamp’s been knocked over, the TV’s overturned (and fried, by the look of things) and there’s paint splatters all over the wall. Or at least those had better be paint splatters - they look like blood at a closer glance.

And sitting in the middle of the room is Izuku, looking like he hasn’t gotten any proper sleep in days. “What in the name of All Might happened here?” Aizawa asks.

“A shorter question would be what hasn’t happened. And the answer to that is murder. Murder hasn’t happened.” Izuku, inchworm like, wiggles along in his sleeping bag, green eyes hopeful as they land on him. “Did you bring any coffee?”

Ah, he knew he was forgetting something. The bribes. Getting Izuku to go out and deal with people is the hardest part of this whole thing. Because the boy just doesn’t do people. Aizawa can’t really blame him, but still. “I was more concerned for your well-being. We can go get some if you want. It’s still early.”

A gusty sigh. “I suppose,” he mutters. “Okay, so what do you need this time?”

Aizawa’s words are interrupted when Izuku’s stomach growls loudly. Izuku grimaces, and the movement in the bag suggests he’s pressing a hand to his stomach. Aizawa’s intuition pings.

“When was the last time you ate?” he demands.

Izuku’s eyes slide over to the far wall. “…a while ago.”

“Izuku Midoriya, look at me. When was the last time you ate?”

Izuku, rather than answer, attempts a retreat in the form of wrapping back up in his sleeping bag and inchworming his way towards the next room. Aizawa, recognizing a delay tactic when he sees one, snaps Izuku up with his scarves and then charges for the kitchen.

The fridge is empty. The cabinets are empty. There’s no cookware, no food, no non-perishables, no nothing.

He rounds on Izuku again, so furious he could spit. “Why didn’t you call?!”

He knows Izuku has difficulty going out. So they’d agreed on at least a call once a month for a grocery run if he needed it. Izuku certainly had the funds - just not the bravery. 

Izuku wiggles in his hold, and mutters something beneath the cowl of the bag. Fed up, Aizawa crouches down and flings the cowl off, snatching his chin between his fingers and jerking his head up. “Eyes up here, Izuku, and speak clearly. Why didn’t you call me?”

Izuku whines softly, but Aizawa doesn’t let up. “…didn’t want to bother you…” he finally mutters softly, a pink tint to his face. “…saw the news…you were busy…”

“Not too busy to come drop off food and make sure you were alright. Damn it Izuku, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be!” God save him from frustrating brats that don’t know how to think of themselves. He stands, grabbing the back of Izuku’s hoody and peeling him out of the bag. “Get your shoes, and grab your clothes. We’re going to get you something to eat, get you your coffee, and then you’re coming with me. We’re going to swing by Recovery Girl on our way in.”

“But Nezu–”

“Nezu won’t mind, trust me on this.” His smile is thin, more of a threat than anything. “If anything, he’ll insist. Now go get your things. You’re going to be staying with us for a while.”

“How long is ‘a while’?” Izuku mutters as he trudges up the stairs. 

The rest of your goddamned life, if I have any say in the matter, Aizawa thinks, sighing explosively once the boy’s up in his room. “God save me from self-sacrificing idiots.”

0-0-0-0-0-0

They reach the campus twenty minutes after Shota left, which considering the walking distance there and back, is a long time. So it’s no surprise to find All Might and Nezu standing by the gates, watching the crowds. When they spot Aizawa and his errant fledgling, Yagi waves them over. He’s clearly fixing to ask what took them so long, until he sees the coffee Izuku’s clinging to, and the bag of food items Shota’s holding in the hand not holding Izuku’s. “Ah,” he says, clearly recognizing what’s happened. 

Nezu puts on his ‘sad principal face’. “Izuku, you should have called.”

Izuku flinches like he’s been bodily struck. “I-I know, I just… didn’twanttobotheranyone…” he trails off muttering about Aizawa’s time and his importance and the current villains and–

“Calm down,” Aizawa says, and Izuku’s jaw snaps shut. “We’ve already gotten the guilt trip out of the way, Nezu. I’ve told him what’s going on. We’re going to drop his stuff off, and then I’m taking him to see Chiyo. Any updates I need to be aware of?”

“Nope!” Nezu chirps, clearly happy that Aizawa is looking after another ‘trouble child’. “I’ll introduce the teachers to him later, when he has time to settle in. Go on ahead - second floor, last door on your right.”

Aizawa knows that door very well. He’s not surprised Nezu’s putting him there. “Alright. Come along little hermit, let’s get you settled.”

Izuku presses closer to him the further into campus they get. It nets him some strange looks, and Shota can tell by the tightness of the hand wrapping around his own that the boy really wants to bolt. He gently squeezes back. “Breathe,” he orders quietly. “Nobody’s going to hurt you. They’re all students, same as you. Relax, little hermit.”

Izuku glances over at him, and then around, and after a few second sucks in a quiet breath. Some of the panic ebbs back, but its still lurking.

“Good,” Aizawa praises. “You’re safe here. Remember that.”

Izuku gives an aborted little nod, but the small distance he puts between them speaks volumes.

They reach the room without much fanfare. Aizawa prepares himself for a reaction when he opens the door - he gets it too. Izuku sees the furniture, sees the particular decorations of the room that speak of personal touch, and says quietly, “I think we’ve got the wrong room.”

“No we don’t,” Aizawa gently urges him in. “This is my room. You’ll be staying here with me.”

“B-b-but–work…busy…don’t want to bother…”

“Izuku, chances are if we leave you alone, you’ll do the same thing you were doing. You won’t call on us if you need anything. This way, we can keep an eye on you, and help you if need be. And if it makes you feel any better, there’s two bedrooms in here, and I rarely ever sleep or do anything besides work. You’ll be fine.” He reaches out and gently ruffles the green curls. “Now come on, we should get you to Chiyo.”