#〔 hope / answered memes 〕So when your story comes to light. Make sure the story that they write

[driftward]

send DIFFERENT for a scene from my muse's past that they feel changed their outlook / personality / etc, for the better or worse (For Zoissette! WoL or RP or both!)

Ahhh! Appreciate your patience, finally getting around to my inbox. I do love the asks! And I like this one in particular.

For most ask memes/prompts, I use them to make a quick fanfic, but for this one, I won't, and I'll explain why. The answer to this one is kind of Zoissette's entire story as a Warrior of Light, and I do hope to fully write it out one day.

This has Shadowbringers spoilers past this point, for those sprouts still playing through MSQ. I'll put down a readmore.

So, the moment of Zoissette's history that changed her outlook forever, for the better, was a moment between the end of events at Mt. Gulg, but before the team goes down underwater to catch up with Emet-Selch.

It was a fulcrum moment for her. She knew, at this point, that she was dying. As an arcanist, Zoissette had been tracking her aether balance, and comparing it to the people at Journey's End, and she knows she is somewhere past a lethal dose. Ryne, the Oracle of Light, had barely managed to stabilise her. She is okay for now, but she does not know for how much longer, and when she goes, she will turn into a Lightwarden - and take the First with her, as well as causing a calamity on the Source.

At this point, she is perpetually exhausted. The Light has built up within her, and she is not handling it great. There is a constant thin white film over her vision, like she'd just dunked her head in milk. There is a constant high-pitch ringing in her ears, like the sounds you hear when you first arrive on the First. She is cold, as Light is static, and ice a close element to it. She is cold, perpetually cold, and nothing she does helps her feel warm. She is not as clever, not as smart as she should be, the Light slowing her thoughts. She keeps catching herself having been staring off into space for long enough that she is not sure exactly how much time has passed.

And she is a threat that must be dealt with. And the Exarch's plan, slightly modified, is probably the best bet for a positive outcome. Take all that aether she is carrying, and make sure that when she dies, make sure it is not on the First. Try to pass into the rift between worlds and never come out, maybe, or go back to the Source and Flow to the aetherial sea and hope it can cushion the sudden flow, something, anything, just make sure that when she goes, she does not go on the First.

She sets up to do that. Gets everything ready. Quietly, so nobody tries to stop her from doing what must be done.

Because after all, she is Ishgardian. Is this not a knight's greatest duty? To die for one is a nearly holy duty. To die for an entire world? Duty demands it.

And just as she is about to take that last step, she stops herself.

She loves this world. She loves everyone in this world, she loves everyone in both worlds, in all worlds. And everything in them. And her friends love her, in return. She is cared for. She matters. If her life is necessary to balance the scales, so be it, but she wants to at least make the choice to try to find another answer first. For herself. For her friends. For the world itself, because she wants to keep living in it, keep experiencing it, keep exploring it.

She cares enough to die for it. She cares enough to try to live for it.

And that moment shifts her perspective on her entire life. Up until now, she approached the duty of being Warrior of Light with a kind of kind hearted weariness. A duty that had to be done. She had no choice in the matter, because someone had to do it, and, well, she is someone. She has the Echo, she has the tools, she has the faith of her comrades, she has the skills and abilities to meet these challenges, and so there is no question. She has to do these things, and she does them, but it is a burden.

At the moment when she chooses to live, however, that singular choice recontextualises her entire life up until that moment. In fact, no, she did not have to do any of it. But she did.

Because of course she did.

Because that's who she is.

The world in which she had no choice in the matter, and the world in which she chose it at every opportunity, they're the same world. Because she would always make the choice she thought was right as best as she could, because she would always choose to defend, she would always choose life, she would always choose this path, of her own free will.

And that's huge for her. It turns her life from a burden to a joy. It turns the sorrow of hardship into something else, something which she can endure, which she willingly endures, knowing that even if she dies, even if she falters or falls, her actions might lead to hope for a better tomorrow. And even if it does not, she tried. She chose to take the risk, to make the attempt.

And so she does. She makes the choice to live. And the next day, she heads out with the Scions to the Tempest, to try to find that other answer, where she lives and the First is spared.

And I hope to capture this in my writings one day, in writing her story.

Thanks for the ask!

[xo-valxntine]

Amethyst Eyes II (T. Inumaki)

part one | part two | part three | bonus

pairing: toge inumaki x gn!reader

synopsis: you and toge have been talking (texting) ever since he stumbled into your clinic all those months ago. you can feel yourself starting to fall for him with practically every text, but will you get to see him again?

tws: angst, aged up characters, brief mention of gangs, character death, mentions of grief & coping with loss (let me know if i’m forgetting something?) wc: ~4,900

a/n: i’m going to be honest i love everything abt this story. y/n & toge are so cute ugh . i was rly feeling this part so it’s quite long~ i apologize for what you’re about to endure i hope u enjoy ੈ✩‧₊˚

It had been a few months since Toge stumbled into your clinic the second time, and the two of you had been texting practically every day. There were times when you’d text back and forth for hours and then there were times it would take one of you a few hours to respond, but every time you saw a message from Toge you’d light up. Toge was special and he made you feel special. Especially with the way he’d text you good morning and goodnight without fail. In the time you’d been talking, he never once forgot. You’d been happier since Toge came into your life.

“Well you seem extra cheerful today.” Misuzu says, pulling you from your thoughts. She had invited you over for lunch and you could never turn that down.

“What do you mean?” You say as you trace the ring of your glass with your finger. Misuzu smiles at you as she sets your bowl down in front of you. She had made your favorite soup. You give her a nod of thanks.

“Just like there’s something extra special going on with you.” Misuzu says as she sits across from you. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say there’s someone special in your life.”

You almost spit out your soup. Swallowing the contents in your mouth down slowly, you try to regain your composure.

“Not quite sure if I know what you mean.” You say looking down and swirling your soup with your spoon trying to buy some extra time.

“Hm.” Misuzu eyes you carefully. “Tell me about the lucky person.”

Your thoughts are immediately consumed with Toge and you can’t help but smile.

“His name is Toge. He’s really sweet.” You say before taking another spoonful of soup.

Your mind flashed back to his good morning text from this morning. It ended up being one of those memes with a cat, a bunch of hearts that had “good morning” typed across it. He sent lots of different memes, some of them cute like the one from this morning and some of them were completely stupid, like the one he had sent you yesterday. It was a picture of a cat that looked like it was meowing, but it had been over edited to make the cat look like it was screaming. Despite calling him a “dummy” and telling him how unfunny it was, you laughed. Toge was constantly making you laugh with his memes and his dumb jokes. The two of you constantly traded jokes back and forth. Your mind flashes back to one of your conversations.

toge

i’ve got a question for you

What is it?

why did the chicken cross the road?

To get to the other side

Duh

shut up and ask why

I can’t shut up and ask why at the same time :p

….

Okay, okay

Why did the chicken cross the road?

to get to the idiot’s house

?

I think the original joke is funnier

knock knock

Who’s there?

the chicken.

….

I bet you think you’re real funny

i know you laughed

.—.

okay, okay your turn

Okay, you have to answer every question with one word answers. And no asking questions because you’ll ruin it.

okay?

What’s the opposite of always?

never

What’s the opposite of coming?

going

What’s the opposite of from?

to

What’s the opposite of take?

give

What’s the opposite of me?

you

What’s the opposite of down?

up

(Attachment: 1 Image)

…

(b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

Got you!

i hate you .

<(￣︶￣)>

i’m not talking to you anymore .

You know I’m hilarious.

Wait Y/N are you actually mad? You haven’t replied in like five minutes (ಥ﹏ಥ)

It was just a joke don’t be mad ;(;:(:(

(ಥ﹏ಥ)

i’m not mad you dummy

i just can’t believe you rickrolled me again

I’m just good like that ;)

Through texting Toge you learned quickly that he was a complete goofball. It was total contrast to how he had been when you first met him, so serious and quiet. The last few months you had become fond of Toge. You looked forward to seeing his good morning texts and hearing about the silly things from his day. You liked Toge a lot. There was something about him that ?, every fiber of your being. You knew what was happening, but you weren’t going to admit it. Not yet.

“Well, he must be really something special. He’s got to be to keep up with you.” Misuzu says, pulling you back into reality. “When can I meet him?”

You spoon more soup into your mouth, so you have a moment to think before answering.

“I’m not really sure.” And that was the truth. “Toge’s a teacher and he’s quite busy with his students.”

It was all true. Toge had finally told you he was a teacher, one night when the two of you were telling each other about your days. At first you thought he was joking, because what teacher stumbles into a clinic coughing up blood? You made a joke about him being in a gang again, but Toge insisted he was in fact a teacher and you shrugged it off, not bringing it up anymore.

“Ah, okay. Well I would love to meet him.” You nod as you finish up your soup.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You say honestly. You hadn’t seen Toge since the night you gave him your phone number. You never pushed it, but you did really want to see him again. Especially since it had been so long since the two of you saw each other.

“It’s so nice to see someone taking care of you. You do so much for others, Y/N. You really do deserve the best.” Misuzu says. You quickly become embarrassed and change the subject.

Misuzu and you spend more time talking about different topics and then you take the time to help her clean up. You’re putting the dishes away when you notice Misuzu wincing as she moves.

“Is there something wrong, Miss M?” You ask, turning to face her. She shakes her head and waves you off.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m just old now.” She says. You watch her carefully and notice she’s wincing more.

“Are you sure? You could come down to the clinic and I could just take a quick look at you.” You say. She waves you off again.

“I’m okay. Now come here. There’s something I want to show you.” She says gesturing you over to the couch. You follow and sit next to her.

“This is something, I’ve been keeping for awhile. I’ve been waiting to give to you. I think it’s finally the right time.” Misuzu says rummaging through a basket. She pulls out what looks like a scrapbook and sits down next to you.

“Is this what I think it is?” You ask carefully, taking in the scrapbook. Misuzu nods.

“Probably that and more. I’ve been collecting pictures of you since you were just a little thing. I’ve been piecing it together since the first time I met you. Not only does it have pictures of you, but all the stories I told you, all your favorite recipes. It’s all here.” She says tapping the book. You feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“Oh, Miss M. That’s beautiful. Thank you.” You say giving her a hug. The tears begin to fall as you're holding her. You don’t ever want to let go, but eventually you do.

“Here, let me show you a few of my favorite parts.” Misuzu says opening the scrapbook.

The two of you spent time going through the scrapbook, reminiscing over all the different moments you spent together. Different moments in your life. It was made to perfection. You were sad when you finally had to leave so that, Misuzu could get her rest. You wanted to go over every single detail about it with her, but the two of you could do that another time. Until then, you propped up on your couch examining each page. You’re finally snapped out of your trance when your phone buzzes.

rice ball enthusiast ♡

I haven’t heard from you all day. Everything okay?

〜(＞＜)〜

You let out a small giggle and reply.

all good. spent the day with Miss M and she gave me a scrapbook with pics from when i was little

Toge replies immediately.

Little y/n? I bet you’re adorable. Care to share?

You shake your head, but flip through the scrapbook. You knew just the picture to send him. You were in Misuzu’s kitchen while she was teaching you how to make rice balls. How coincidental had that been? Toge loved rice balls and there you were making them. You quickly snap a picture and send it to him.

rice ball enthusiast ♡

Just like I thought: adorable. Bet the ones I make taste better though :p

doubtful, i’ve been making them since i was six

I, Toge Inumaki, hereby challenge thee Y/N to a riceball off

challenge accepted

don’t go crying when i win

The only way you’ll win is if I let you

not possible, i have a secret that makes them taste amazing

Care to share?

maybe one day

I’m looking forward to it ♡

You sit for a moment, fiddling with your phone in your hands. You wanted to ask him the question that had been tucked away at the back of your mind since the last time you had seen him, but things had been going so well and you didn’t want to ruin them by bringing it up.

toge

can i ask you a question?

Of course

Your fingers hover before typing.

do you like talking to me?

Absolutely not.

I just spend all my free time texting you because I hate talking to you

That was sarcasm btw

I love texting you. Talking to you is the best part of my day. I’d spend every second of the day talking to you if I could. You’re really special Y/N. Special to me.

you mean that?

Every word.

i wanna see you again

Toge doesn’t reply immediately, like he normally would. Instead you watch as the typing bubble pops in and out of the chat. After a few minutes you get a response.

Are you being serious?

You contemplate for a moment. You and Toge had been texting back and forth playfully since that fateful day. The two of you had even been flirting now and then. He had taken a hold on you in the last few months. If you were being honest, Toge had, had a hold on you since the day he stumbled into your clinic. Of course you wanted to see him again. You type your reply without hesitation.

yes.

For awhile there’s no response. You don’t even see the chat bubble indicating that he’s typing show up. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you see the typing bubble show up and then a message.

I’m not sure if I can do that.

You felt a part of your heart break as you read over the words. Once. Twice. Three times. You hadn’t even realized your eyes were filled with tears until you felt them on your thumbs. You go to wipe away the tears on your face, but it’s pointless because they keep falling down. The tears were staining your phone and you did your best to wipe them away.

okay

After you send the message you turn off your phone and then everything that's been building up hits you all at once. You’re crying. Choking on sobs as you’re trying to make sense of what you had just read. I’m not sure if I can do that. The words danced throughout your mind over and over again. There was something about those words that hit you. Part of you had known there was no guarantee you’d see Toge again, not with him being secretive about whatever it was he was hiding. But you still held out hope that maybe, just maybe you’d be able to see him again. That message just served as confirmation that it wasn’t going to be possible to see him again. All that time you had spent growing close to him felt pointless. All the different conversations you had together flooded your mind and you only cried harder. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to give yourself a sense of comfort, but your head drifted to thinking about Toge wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face into your blanket and just cried, and cried, and cried.

The next morning you awoke with a throbbing headache. You rub your temples, trying to soothe the pain when the memories from last night come rushing back. Oh right. It hadn’t just been a nightmare. You shake your head, trying to push the memories away, but you’re reminded of the pain from your headache and wince. You sigh and make your way to the bathroom, so that you can take some pain medicine for your head. You take the medicine and sit on the floor waiting for it to kick in. Once the medicine finally kicks in, you move to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. You chug it down, starting to feel a bit better. Your thoughts drift back to the night before and Toge’s words. I’m not sure I can do that. You had known there was no certainty in seeing him again, but you had let yourself hope. And part of you still had hope. It wasn’t like he had said absolutely not, I never want to see you again. He had just said he was unsure, which still hurt, but not as much as no. You were starting to feel better about the situation. Maybe you had overreacted. You’d text Toge later to talk about things more. Your head feels like it’s starting to clear and then you look at the time. Your eyes widen.

“Shit. I’m late.” You mutter to yourself. You move quickly to get ready and you’re out of the door within ten minutes.

When you arrive at your clinic you notice Mr. and Mrs. Yamada standing outside. You’re confused, because you know they didn’t have appointments today. In fact, you were only supposed to have patients in the afternoon today.

“Oh there you are, Y/N.” Mrs. Yamada says.

“Morning Mrs. Yamada. Is there something going on?”

“Everyone’s been trying to get in touch with you and no one could. We were all worried, so we came here.” Mrs. Yamada says. You were still confused.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Yamada, did something happen?” You ask. You watched as her face fell.

“You don’t know?” Their eyes were on you and you were starting to panic.

“Know what?”

“Miss Misuzu passed away last night.”

It felt like a building had just been dropped on you. You weren’t sure if you had heard correctly. You must have a strange look on your face, because they were looking at you with sympathy. You could feel the pain starting to wash over you.

“T-t-that’s not possible.” You mumble. “Y-y-you’re l-lying. I just saw her yesterday.” That was right. You did just see her yesterday. You had a lovely afternoon together. She made you soup, you helped her clean, and she gave you the scrapbook. That had all happened yesterday.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m sorry, but she’s telling the truth. It was late last night, or early this morning rather.” Mr. Yamada says, stepping forward.

They were lying. They were both lying. Misuzu was fine. You saw her yesterday. You had lunch together, you helped her clean, and she gave you the scrapbook. You think about how she had suddenly invited you over for lunch. How she was wincing when she was moving around.

“I’m just getting old.”

That’s what she had said, but she wasn’t that old, was she? The thoughts are racing through your head. She had given you the scrapbook and— The realization is like a second building being dropped on top of you.

“This is something, I’ve been keeping for awhile. I’ve been waiting to give to you. I think it’s finally the right time.”

She knew. That’s why she had invited you over. That’s why she had given you the scrapbook. Why she had taken the time to go over the memories with you. Your legs become weak and you can tell you’re about to collapse.

“N-no.” It’s so soft, you’re not sure if it’s more than a thought. Your legs finally collapse and you’re sobbing. “No, no, no.” Mrs. Yamada leans over and gently rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Mr and Mrs. Yamada were kind enough to take you back home and make sure you got in all right. You couldn’t even open the door yourself because your hands were shaking so much. ? had to open the door for you. You had calmed your crying in front of them, but when you were sure they had left, it all came tumbling back out. Misuzu was gone and not coming back. You’d never hear her voice again. Those thoughts only made you cry even harder. You cried and cried until you felt hollow.

The arrangements for Misuzu ended up falling to you, because she had no living family. Even though you weren’t blood, you did consider yourself her family. She cared for you like no one else did. She was always there when you needed her. And now she needed you to handle this for her, so you did. She left ? and you would made sure everything was the way she wanted it. It was hard, but you made it through somehow. When the day of the funeral came, you didn’t cry. You held it together long enough to share your favorite memories with Misuzu and somehow held it together as people gave you their condolences. Maybe it had something to do with the hollow feeling. What were the stages of grief again? Whatever they were, you weren’t sure which one the hollow feeling inside of you belonged to.

A week had gone by since the funeral service. You had spent the majority of the time thumbing through the scrapbook she had given you. You took the time to look at every picture and every description she wrote. You read over every story and recipe. Again, again, and again. You’d do anything to have more time with her. You were supposed to have more time with her. You knew you were. Something about the way Misuzu left didn’t feel right. Despite being told she had passed away in her sleep peacefully, you didn’t believe it. Misuzu was healthy, and you knew she was because you were her doctor. She was still supposed to have more time and you were saying that as her doctor, not as her self-proclaimed daughter in denial. You push the thoughts away, not wanting to think about it anymore. You turn your attention back to the scrapbook and your eyes land on the picture of you making rice balls. Suddenly, your head is filled with images of his blonde hair and violet eyes.

Toge had been texting you nonstop since that night and you hadn’t replied to a single one of them. When you had finally calmed yourself down after finding out about Misuzu’s death, you turned your phone back on so that you could figure out what the necessary arrangements would be. When you turned the phone on it was flooded with missed call notifications from people in your small town, most likely from when they were trying to let you know about Misuzu. You cleared the notifications away and your attention was captured by notifications from him.

rice ball enthusiast ♡

I’m sorry.

Good morning! I hope you have a lovely day

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

I think I might’ve just seen a frog in a cherry blossom tree? Think I might be hallucinating

How was your day?

Y/N are you okay? I’m worried.

Are you mad at me for last night?

I’m sorry, Y/N. I promise I’d come see you if I could.

(Attachment: 1 Image) (it was a picture of a cat looking at a phone screen sadly)

Please, I just want to know you’re okay.

Goodnight, Y/N. ♡

You wanted to text him back. You really did. Tell him that you forgave him. Explain to him that at first you were upset and that you had turned your phone off, but you had slept and just wanted to talk to him about it some more. You wanted to explain to him that the reason you hadn’t reached out sooner is because you had gotten bad news and couldn’t be bothered to turn your phone back on. You wanted to tell him about Misuzu’s death. How it had completely shattered you and how you hated having to go through this alone. You wanted him to comfort you in a way only he could, even if it was just from his words and stupid little memes. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead, you never replied to him or any of the texts after that. For the most part, they were similar. He still said good morning and good night without fail. And then every now and again he’d send you a video he found funny or text you about a part of his day. You read every single text and watched every single video. You just couldn’t bring yourself to reply to them.

It has been two months since Misuzu had passed and you were finally starting to come to terms with it. The scrapbook had a lot to do with it. She had left a piece of herself with you, a constant reminder that someone loved you for you. You cherished it. You had even made some of the recipes she had left you. Some of them were ones she had taught you before, others were ones she had made you but never taught you how to make. You found comfort in the meals and noted how great it tasted, but it would never be quite like hers.

After her passing, it had taken you about a month to get back into the clinic. With the arrangements and coping with her death, it just wasn’t a priority at the time. This meant there was a lot of work for you to do when you got back, but you threw yourself into it and the clinic was now back to where it needed to be.

“Hey, Rin, how are you?” You ask.

“Good! Mom says I’ve gotten a whole five inches taller!” He says eagerly bouncing. You pretend to look at him surprised.

“A whole five inches? That’s awesome! Come on let’s measure you.” You reply. His mom smiles at you and you lead them towards the back.

“How are you doing, Y/N?” Rin’s mom asks as you’re checking his vitals.

“I’ve been good. Thanks for asking, Mrs. Fujita.” You say. And it was the truth. You were good. For the most part anyway.

“That’s good to hear.” She replies at you smiling. You smile back and then continue with her son’s check up.

“All right. You’re all good to go.” You say and pull out the stickers you keep for the kids. “You did an awesome job today, man. Go ahead and choose one.”

You watch ad he ponders over his choices carefully before selecting one.

“This one!” Rin exclaims holding up one of the ones with a race car on it.

“Very good choice, my friend.” You say laughing at his eagerness. You turn to his mom. “Thanks for bringing him in. He’s all good to go. If you need anything else just let me know.”

Mrs. Fujita thanks you and Rin gives a wave as they exit the clinic. You slump over once they’re out of sight. Despite feeling better mentally, you weren’t feeling the best physically. It felt as if something was wrapped around your torso and your shoulders felt heavy. At first you didn’t think much of it, thinking it was just your body’s way of coping with grief, but when the feeling continued, you decided to get yourself checked out. Everything came out normally, no cause for concern. That eased you worries a little, but the feeling had remained. You weren’t in pain, you were just feeling a lot of discomfort.

You spent the rest of the day updating patient charts and going through your files. You’re sorting the last of your files when you hear your phone buzz on your desk. You didn’t have to look to know who it was. Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and look at the notification.

rice ball enthusiast

(Attachment: 1 Image)

It was a picture of a kitten that looked like it was screaming with the text “Text me back. I miss you.” on the side. You let out a sigh and lock your phone without replying. He hadn’t stopped texting you despite the fact you hadn’t replied to him. You weren’t upset with him. You really had forgiven him the very next day, after he told you he couldn’t see you. You believed him when he said he’d come visit you if he could, but you wanted to put distance between the two of you. You didn’t want to keep falling for him and become attached. Especially not when you were so consumed in your grief over Misuzu. You hoped that he would stop texting you, but you still received good morning and good night texts. He kept sharing his favorite memes and videos with you and sharing details about his day. You watched every video and read every word. It was like he somehow knew you still saw his messages, despite having your read receipts off. Eventually, however, the messages did stop and you hadn’t heard from Toge in over a week.

---

It was late and you were leaving your clinic. You were going to lock the door when you got the strange feeling someone, or rather something was watching you. You check your surroundings to see if there’s anything around and see nothing. You try to shake the feeling, but you can’t. You eye your surroundings one more time before deciding it would just be best to go back into your clinic. Maybe whatever it was would go away and you could go home in a little while.

You were scrolling on your phone, waiting for the eery feeling you had to go away, but it didn’t. It only got progressively worse as did the heavy feeling on your shoulders. You were ready to go home and relax, but with the eery feeling getting worse, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Instead, you decide to put your phone down and gaze out the window. Your eyes are met with nothing but darkness and you’re about to turn away when something catches your attention. Your eyes widen and you’re not completely sure you can trust them. You blink several times, thinking maybe it was just your imagination and the sight in front of you would go away, but no. There was a woman fighting what looked like a car-sized purple lizard. And they were moving closer and closer to your clinic. You quickly back away from your window and go to the back of your clinic to hide. You curl up in a corner in the back room, trying to convince yourself this wasn’t real. Any excuse you could think of came to your head. Maybe you were tired. Or maybe you hadn’t eaten enough and—

You’re pulled from your reasoning when the windows of your clinic burst. The windows burst with such force that the glass had scattered all the way to the back room you were in. A strange noise filled your ears, along with the sounds of slashing.

“Dammit. Just where the hell is that guy?” You hear a voice say. You could only assume that it was the woman from before. You hear footsteps along the shattered glass and the strange noise continued as did the sounds of the slashing.

“I see you finally decided to show up, Toge.” The woman says. You freeze. Toge? She couldn’t possibly mean—

“Don’t move.” You hear an unfamiliar voice say. You listen as the slashing continues.

“Dammit, Toge. Just finish it already.” The woman’s voice says.

“Explode.” Toge, you assume, speaks. Following that, you hear a loud splattering noise. There’s a few moments of silence before the woman speaks again.

“Well, we’ve done what we needed to do. Ready to go?” “Salmon.”

Your eyes widen and your mind flashes back to that very first night.

“Can you speak?”

“Salmon.”

“Salmon?”

It was him. But that couldn’t be, it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real. None of this could be real. You had to be dreaming. You must’ve fallen asleep while doing paperwork and were dreaming. You try to wake yourself up.

“Wake up, wake up.” You whisper to yourself. “Wake up. It’s just a dream.”

You were so in your thoughts that you barely noticed the sound of footsteps until they froze.

“Did you hear that? Is someone here? Gojo said—hey where are you taking off to?”

You hear footsteps rushing around and you want the the floor to open and swallow you whole. It was your dream right? That could happen, you were control. You keep willing the floor to open, but it never happens. The footsteps that were running had now stopped and you could feel eyes on you. You force yourself to look up and you’re met with those mesmerizing amethyst eyes. It really was him.

[tolleraresubire]

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?“ for Hope

Why in the world would Hope want to talk about it? Why would she ever want to admit defeat to the Aunt who she held to the highest of esteems? “𝐆𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.” Her words had the attempt of being stern when they left the girls throat, but instead were thick with the feeling of fears and sobs hiding behind her heart. “𝐀𝐮𝐧𝐭 ‘𝐆𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭.” She bit out her words as she sunk against the wall of the Jolly Roger’s captains quarters, curling up in a ball and forcing herself not to cry. She had lit the gymnasium on fire, her grandmother’s classroom and the flames had extended all the way towards the Sheriff’s office. “𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?” She had run to her father’s ship, her go-to place for wanting to be alone. “𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐈’𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.” 

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[uvobreakmylegs]

Haze

i saw a meme and it made me want to write a Morel piece. then @ramwrites​ suggested making him a banshee and i loved it

i have definitely bastardized banshee lore but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do for a story

Warnings: manipulation, mentions of death

A hiking trip up to a nearby mountain trail had been on a list of things to do for you and your friend group for a while. Your friend Denali had suggested it, and she assured you all that it wouldn't be anything too difficult; it was just a beginner's trail that would consist of a few hours of walking up the trail and back. And then maybe you all could grab some food after.

You were pretty excited for it, as the idea sounded refreshing to you. Another thing that added to the anticipation of the hike was the fact that it had also been a little while since everyone in the friend group had been able to hang out together.

Or more accurately, it had been a while since you were able to make it to one of these friend meetups.

Some kind of bad luck had been plaguing you recently; the last few times an outing for the four of you had been planned, something unexpected came up for you and you needed to cancel last minute. Be it work obligations, family emergencies or just you getting sick the night before, it had been a while since you hung out with them like you once had.

Aiden, Denali and Colton all seemed to take it well, but you swore you could sense a growing annoyance in them. They seemed to be shorter with you in texts, and there had been a few times now that you'd sent a picture or said something in the group chat and it had been ignored. You worried that they were starting to think you were making up excuses instead of genuinely being unable to see them, but every time you tried to talk with them privately, they told you that there wasn't anything wrong and that you were just overreacting.

That hadn't made you feel any better. You just felt like a bad friend.

But today would be different.

You made a point to ensure that you had the day completely cleared for the hike, getting the day off from your work well in advance and doing your best to stay away from anything that might make you sick. The morning of your friends had all confirmed that it was still on, and after a little while they were going to rendezvous at your place to pick you up before you all headed out to the trail.

Things were going to be different today, and you were excited for it.

And things were different.

But maybe not in a way that you had expected.

You didn't notice the second car that had pulled up behind Denali's initially when they stopped outside your place. You only noticed that something was different when you approached Denali's car and noticed that one of the seats in the back had been taken up by a pile of backpacks, leaving no room for you.

When Aiden stepped out of the first car as you came out to greet him, he explained the situation. Without your knowledge, Aiden had invited someone from his work, a woman named Fawn. Evidently during those times when you couldn't make it, your friends had been hanging out with her a lot, and they had figured that she should be invited on this trip as well.

That they were hanging out with other people didn't upset you; they had every right to spend their time with people that were able to show up. But you felt slightly hurt that you hadn't been asked or even given a heads-up that this was happening. You had been anticipating spending time with your old friend group for this trip and instead you would be trying to reconnect while also navigating a new group dynamic.

But you decided not to say anything about it. You just nodded and smiled when Aiden told you that you'd be riding with Fawn in her car. Although it was unexpected, you told yourself that new people wasn't necessarily a bad thing. You could probably make good friends with her while also berating yourself for your first reaction to her being disappointment. That sort of attitude was no good.

Despite all of that, you quickly came to feel that you didn't like Fawn very much.

For one thing, the woman was one of the most reckless drivers you had ever come across. Virtually blowing through stop signs, running several lights and swerving around drivers that she felt weren't going fast enough, there were several times during the trip that you felt she was going to cause an accident. She also passed by Denali's car for some reason, and when you asked her why, she said she thought it would be fun to see who could get to the mountain first. You didn't agree, but there was literally nothing you could do but hold onto the inside of the passenger side door for dear life. The motion sickness you'd gotten was so bad that by the time you made it to the parking lot next to the hiking trail, you'd needed to lean against the side of her car and take in deep breaths in an attempt to not throw up your breakfast.

At least she seemed pretty apologetic when she saw you like that, and she offered you a bottle of water which you gladly took. But the second Denali's car pulled up she seemed to switch her focus to that completely, going up to the rest of the group to greet them. She had something of a one-track mind, it seemed. It didn't make her a bad person, but you still wanted a bit of distance for now.

After recovering and making sure you had everything you needed in your backpack, you approached Aiden while the others were getting ready.

“Hey,” you said, “you think you and I could switch places for the car ride back?”

“Oh c'mon, it couldn't have been that bad,” he said, “you'll hurt her feelings if you do that. She really wants to know you.”

Fawn walked up right after, and since you weren't willing to criticize her driving right in front of her, you dropped it.

Meanwhile the mountain loomed above all of you. Tall and imposing with a rather dense white fog that almost obscured the very top of it. There were parts that were heavily forested, and you briefly wondered if you would need to worry about anything like bears or some other kind of large wild animal.

“How far up are we going?” you asked Denali.

“Not too far. We'll be sticking to the marked trail; there's a cool little observation deck at the end of it,” she told you, “I figure we'll head towards that and then come back the same way.”

You nodded, but before you could give any real response Colton called her over for something, and she left to help him. Aiden and Fawn were chatting about something, so you stood silent and at the ready, looking up once more at the mountain.

Despite the distance, you swore you saw something moving. You wanted to say it was some large kind of four-legged creature, though it was impossible to tell what exactly it was.

“Are there bears on the mountain?” you asked aloud.

“Nah.”

That was all the response you got.

For about ten minutes after the hike started, Fawn had stayed at the back with you, asking you some basic questions about yourself that you would in turn ask her once you had answered. You hoped that the interaction wasn't as awkward as it had felt to you. Maybe it was but she also didn't want to say anything about it.

Then when your group came across an old, crumbling well, Fawn had run up towards Aiden to get some better pictures of the structure, and when the group began to move again, she chose to stay there next to him.

Denali had taken the lead with Colton right behind. They were talking, though what they were talking about you couldn't be sure as you only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. A few steps behind them were Aiden and Fawn, talking about something that was going on at their workplace. And a few steps behind those two was you, trailing behind the group and unable to join either conversation. Although Aiden had said that Fawn wanted to know you, she hadn't said much of substance to you before she turned her attention back to him. Although maybe that was your fault. Maybe it really was obvious that you didn't care for her much. You thought that you were doing a decent job at being polite, but maybe she could tell that you were still a bit annoyed about her driving earlier.

Or maybe she just wanted to talk to Aiden right now and you were overreacting again.

You weren't sure.

It just felt like you were being excluded.

Of course. The first time in forever that you were able to make it to a meet-up with them, and it felt like you weren't wanted.

You sighed to yourself as you walked behind silently, trying to tell yourself that it was unreasonable to be thinking like that and that you wouldn't have been invited if they didn't want you there. The hike had just started; you couldn't decide that the whole thing would be bad just because of a rough beginning.

At least for now you could enjoy the scenery, and you looked about the woods as you walked along the trail, noting the different types of trees and plants and just how many of them surrounded you as you walked by on the trail. You stopped now and then to take a few pictures with your phone. Although you could hear the distinct chirping of birds in the distance, you didn't manage to see any, and despite the movement you thought you had seen while in the parking lot, it didn't seem like there were any other animals in the area. Denali had said this was an easy trail; maybe people frequented it enough that most animals avoided any areas close to it. That was too bad, but not that big of a deal. At least you were still getting nice pictures of the forest.

Your group came across a wide set of wooden stairs with a wooden barrier on either side after a bit, beginning a steeper ascent towards the higher parts of the mountain. Nothing had really changed within the group, though you noted that the conversations had mostly died down in an effort to appreciate the nature around you. Colton was also frequently looking behind to make sure everyone was still there. The two of you managed to lock eyes at one point, and you smiled at him. He gave back something of a half-smile before looking back in front of him. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but you noted that he didn't look back after that.

The walk continued, and all of you were quiet now, looking about the scenery. Some of them occasionally made remarks whenever they spotted something unusual, like an oddly shaped tree trunk or rock. You stayed silent, though, remembering your messages that had gone ignored and worried that if you said anything, that would be ignored as well.

Were you being too anxious about this? Probably. You sighed to yourself again as you tried to keep those kinds of thoughts from running amok.

Just distract yourself by looking around, you told yourself.

You paused when you glanced over to your right.

It looked like there was some sort of stone pillar standing in the distance. The dark rock was covered in moss and vines, but the shape was such that it couldn't have been a natural formation. Someone human had put it there some time ago. It also looked as though there was similar wreckage behind the pillar, and you wondered if it may have once been some kind of building.

Taking out your phone and pulling up the camera, you zoomed in on the the ruined structure. You briefly glanced over to your friends as you did, making sure they weren't leaving you too far behind.

But when you looked back to the phone, you let out a small sound of surprise.

There was a man standing by the pillar.

Your eyes immediately went back to the pillar as you wondered where this guy had come from.

The shadows over in that area made things a bit darker, but you were able to see a general shape that looked like a person. You squinted slightly as you looked at him, trying to make out any details. But strangely, you couldn't. It was just the shape of a rather broad man, and as you continued to look, you found that it looked almost wispy, like a few pieces of cloud had floated down and arranged themselves to imitate what a person might look like.

…. Why did it feel like it was looking back at you?

“What are you doing?”

Aiden's voice called to you, and you snapped out of your stupor to find that the whole group was standing there waiting on you.

Your mouth fell open to try and offer some explanation, to tell them about what you were looking at, but when you glanced back to where the shape had been-

He wasn't there.

And when you looked back to the camera, you found he was gone from there as well.

Had you imagined it?

The entire thing had happened within mere seconds. The pillar wasn't large enough that he could be hiding behind it, and no one could move that fast without making some bit of noise. Looking between the view from your camera and the pillar a few more times, you decided that you had imagined it. Though you were certain you had seen something standing there, there was no way that could have actually been the case. Maybe a shadow just looked weird within the lighting at that moment?

Aiden called out to you again.

“Sorry!” you called out, putting the phone away as you hurried up the stairs to rejoin them.

“What you were looking at?” Fawn asked you.

“Something back there,” you explained, “ it looked like there were some ruins of a building.”

“Oh, did you get a picture? Can I see?”

“Ah, sorry, I didn't.”

Fawn pouted, asking “why not?”

“I thought I saw someone.”

They both looked at you strangely.

“You couldn't get a picture because you thought you saw someone?” Aiden asked.

“I don't know. It was just weird,” you said, getting a bit flustered as you continued “I thought I saw a guy for a second – or something that looked like a guy – but then he was gone.”

“... 'Something' that 'looked' like a guy,” Aiden repeated.

“Oh wow, I didn't know you could see ghosts!” Fawn exclaimed, giggling a little, “we've got a coworker who swears that the printer room is haunted. Maybe we should bring her here and see if she also sees something.”

…. You weren't sure if she was making fun of you or not, so you stayed silent. Aiden was still looking at you like you had two heads while Fawn was pulling out her own phone, preparing to walk back down to take a look at the ruins herself. Then Denali called out to the three of you, asking what the hold-up was. That was enough to spur you to begin walking again.

“Aw, I wanted to get a picture,” Fawn said as you began climbing the stairs once more.

Fawn then looked to Aiden as he said to her “we can always snap a picture on the way back.”

“That's true.”

“And did Nell say that the printer room was haunted? I thought she said it was the third floor bathroom,” Aiden then said.

“It could've been both. According to her a lot of places are haunted. Something about weird energies,” Fawn responded.

They were talking about something from their work again, and since you still had no way to join in, you walked behind them in silence. As your group continued the ascent, you glanced behind to see if there was anything weird with the pillar from this angle. There was a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, and you felt as if there was someone watching you.

There was nothing, and though the feeling wasn't going away, you told yourself to forget about it.

Time passed as the clouds parted some to show how the sun had moved higher in the sky, and your group came to a wooden platform with benches and tables that were clearly meant as a rest stop for any hikers. The others decided that it was a good time to have lunch and settled themselves at a table. You, on the other hand, were still feeling some side effects from Fawn's driving earlier, and as you really didn't want to get sick in the middle of the hike, you opted not to eat. You sat with them at first, but when you once again felt like you couldn't contribute to the conversation, you stood up, the amateur photographer in you feeling fulfilled somewhat as you snapped a few more pictures of the scenery.

You wandered over to a different part of the platform, leaning your elbows on the wooden fencing as you looked out at the forest.

At the beginning of your trip it had been fairly overcast, and only after you had started this excursion had the clouds thinned and allowed the sun to shine through. But just as the weather started to clear up, it seemed to be turning overcast again as a mist began to fall, seemingly sliding from the top of the mountain and through the thick forest of trees. Was rain a possibility? Maybe, and of course you hadn't brought anything with you if that did happen. You had made a point to bring a first aid kit in case either you or someone else got hurt, but nothing to protect you in case the weather turned bad.

A flash of white caught your eye while you were caught up in your thoughts.

Glancing to your left, you found yourself staring at a white rabbit.

It was nice to finally see some wildlife for the first time since this hike had started and at first glance it seemed perfectly normal. But the more you looked at it, the more.... Odd it seemed.

It was sitting upright facing away from you, not moving at all. That didn't seem quite normal, since you thought most rabbits were inclined to hunker down and try to blend in with their surroundings if they encountered something they thought was a threat. This one didn't seem to be hiding, it just sat still, and the more you looked, the more it didn't seem like it was even breathing. It also seemed strange to find a pure white rabbit up in the mountains. The color was striking against the earthly tones of the forest, and presumably that should've meant that it would have been easy prey for any natural predators that roamed the area. In fact, it didn't look the slightest bit dirty, making you wonder if it was someone's pet that had escaped.

And the more you looked at it, the more something about it just seemed to be off. Like it had some kind of weird energy to it.

And yet you felt an urge to get closer to it.

The instant you moved closer it reacted by twisting it's head around to face you, and you saw it's face for the first time.

Or rather, it's lack of one.

No eyes, no nose, no mouth, no sort of features whatsoever. It's face, and the rest of it for that matter, was completely blank, and it seemed less and less like a living creature the longer you looked at it.

You stared at it, unsure of how you were supposed to react to such a thing.

“The rabbit doesn't have a face,” you said aloud.

Your friends didn't hear you. In their defense, you hadn't spoken all that loudly.

When you moved again it bolted, vanishing behind surrounding tree trunks.

Follow it

Maybe it was because of the shock you felt at seeing that thing that you didn't even question the thought. You just climbed over the fencing and headed out in the same direction you had seen it run off to.

It wasn't long before you caught sight of it again, and once more you were struck by how odd this thing was. It was sitting up again, staring at you. Almost like it was waiting for you.

Did you really want to follow a faceless rabbit into the woods? Apparently you did, because when you got close again it ran off, and the process repeated itself as it began to lead you through the forest, taking you further and further away from the hiking trail and down an unmarked path. The rabbit never got too far before it would stop and wait for you to catch up, and it stayed still during the few times that you would pause for a break. It really was waiting for you, and somehow, it didn't seem like it was running in any random direction. More like it was leading you somewhere.

A haze had seemed to form in your mind. Somehow, none of this seemed questionable to you, that you were running off in pursuit of a white rabbit like a heroine from a Lewis Carroll book. Or at least some darker version of that tale given the rabbit's lack of a face which you still weren't able to make sense of. There was no reason for you to be running off of the trail like this, into terrain that you weren't familiar with, but every time you caught sight of the rabbit, something inside you told you that you needed to go after it.

You did just that for some time until the haze finally broke.

In the midst of your pursuit, you happened to step on a hollow, rotted log, and the wood was weak enough that when you put your weight on it, your foot went right through. You shrieked, stumbling forward as you desperately pulled your foot out. To add to your panic, there had been a fair amount of bugs living inside of the log, some of which had attached themselves to your shoe, and you kicked your foot out rapidly to get them off of you. They scattered, and you stumbled back before landing awkwardly on your ankle. Pain shot through you, and you fell against the trunk of a tree where you sank to the forest floor, one hand steadying yourself while the other was over your chest as you tried to calm yourself down.

What the hell am I doing?

The thought struck you. Why had you gone off the trail like this? And for some weird rabbit creature, of all things? What was the point of this excursion? What if you got hurt?

You put some weight on the foot that had gone through the log and you hissed as another sharp bolt of pain hit you.

Scratch that. You'd already managed to hurt yourself.

It seemed like your ankle was sprained. Clearly you had landed on it wrong after getting your foot out of the log.

Ah, this was the worst.

You gingerly removed your shoe and tried to get a look at the damage. It didn't look too bad yet, but there was definitely something wrong with it as you only felt pain every time you moved it. How fast does the swelling set in? At least you'd had the forethought of bringing a few rolls of elastic bandage wraps, though you felt like you'd need some help to get it properly wrapped.

Which meant you'd need to find your way back to your friends.

How far away were you from the trail by now? You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you had left them. It was all so strange, that you had gotten such extreme tunnel vision like that and had run off. And because of that, you had gotten hurt and would have a hard time making your way back, or else they would need to come in to find you.

They'd be upset with you, wouldn't they?

You probably wouldn't be able to continue the hike, and you were sure there'd be some resentment if this outing was cut short because of you. Maybe you could just wait at the rest area? They'd be coming down the same path when they came back, so maybe they could continue the hike and you could rest up and join them on the return trip. It'd be boring for you but then at least the trip wouldn't be a waste for them.

You sighed as you began to shimmy your shoe back onto your foot. Today was a bust. First the thing with Fawn, then the way it seemed like you were being ignored, and now this.

They hadn't even said anything when you jumped the fence to chase after the rabbit, had they? Not that you'd really been paying attention, so maybe they had, but they sure hadn't gone after you.

… Not that it was on them to look after you. You were an adult and therefore not their responsibility. It was wrong to think like that.

You sighed again.

Everything that had happened today really had been your own fault, huh? It was all you could do to hope nothing else bad would happen.

You remembered some old superstitious saying about bad things happening in threes. If that was true, then maybe your bad luck was over for the day.

Trying to get off of that particular train of thought, you looked about for something that could work as a walking stick, something strong enough to hold your weight for when you made your way back to the path.

A voice called out from far away, and when you paused to listen, you heard the voices of your friends calling out your name.

That was actually really good.

A new creeping fear was that you would be lost in the woods and have a hard time finding the path, but as long as they were calling out to you, you could use the sounds of their voices to find your way back. As you were about to push yourself to your feet, you allowed yourself to be a little hopeful, feeling that the bad things were done for the day.

You heard something then, as though something had dropped onto the ground next to you.

In an automatic response, you turned your head towards the sound and found a pipe laying atop the dirt and fallen leaves.

Had that been there earlier?

It was moderately sized, a black stem with a little bit of intricate gold detailing on either end, while the bowl at the end of the pipe was more of a darker bronze.

Wouldn't you have noticed this earlier? Or had you been that distracted when you'd been desperately shaking all of the bugs off of your foot?

Without really thinking about why you reached out to grab it as you wondered to yourself if there were still people these days who smoked using pipes.

It was warm when your fingers made contact, and as you raised it up to inspect it more, you noted how clean it was. If it had been out here for a day or so there would've been more dirt on it, but with the state it was in, someone must have dropped it not too long ago.

At least it gave you some comfort knowing that you weren't the only one who had wandered off the trail, though you were probably still one of the dumbest to do so since you had gone off in chase of a freaky rabbit.

Should you take the pipe with you? Was there some sort of lost and found box down at the parking lot? Would the person who lost it even still be looking for it, or would they have already accepted that it was gone forever?

With those thoughts swirling around your head, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps that came closer until they stopped right next to you.

“Are you alright?”

A man's voice broke you from your thoughts, and when you turned your gaze upwards, you found an older man standing above you, leaning an arm against the same tree trunk you were resting against. White hair, a gray dress shirt with a red tie and wearing black sunglasses despite the clouds overhead, he looked down at you with a clear look of concern on his face.

“Ah – yes! Well, mostly,” you said once you realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Mostly?”

“I think I sprained my ankle.”

He knelt down next to you, asking “may I?” as he motioned to your aforementioned ankle. You nodded, and he inspected your ankle. He was gentle with you, looking over the injured area carefully and apologizing any time he caused you some discomfort.

“How bad is it?” you asked him after a moment.

“I'd say you were right. It looks sprained.”

You groaned a little, disappointed that you were correct.

“Do you have anything to wrap it with?” he asked.

“Yeah, in my backpack,” you answered, “I was gonna get my friends to help me with it once I got back to them.”

“Where are they?”

“Back by the path, I think. It sounded like they were looking for me just now.”

However, you could no longer hear them. In fact, the whole forest seemed oddly silent now, the only exception being the wind that would at times whistle through the trees. And had it gotten darker?

“That's weird,” you said more to yourself, “I know I heard them.”

The man who sat patiently before you, with your ankle still in his care, looked about for any sign of your friends before he spoke again.

“Well, I'm here now,” he told you, “care if I patch you up instead?”

“Um, as long as it isn't too much trouble?”

He smiled at you.

“It's no trouble at all.”

Saying that it would be easier for him to work on you, the man carefully picked you up and moved you so that you sat on a nearby boulder, kneeling down in front of you again as he waited for you to fish out the bandages from your pack.

“I'm Morel, by the way.”

You gave him a small smile in return, introducing yourself as well as you handed off the bandages.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he began to wrap up your ankle.

“Hiking with friends.”

“I figured that much,” he said, grinning a little, “but the trail is a good distance from here. How did you end up off of it?”

“Ah....”

Despite the pain in your ankle and the circumstances between you and your friends, it hadn't been lost on you that Morel was pretty handsome. A bit rugged, but in a good way. And though you knew nothing about this man – for all you knew he had a wife and child at home waiting for him – you didn't want to say something that might make him think you were an idiot. Telling him that you had gone chasing after a rabbit would definitely make him think you were an idiot.

And you didn't want to mention that you thought it had no face. Then he'd think you were crazy.

“I saw some ruins down at the base of the mountain; thought it'd be cool if I went exploring and see if I could find some more,” you lied.

“Unfortunately, any ruins would be down at the bottom. Nobody would've built anything this far up,” Morel explained.

“Ah, I see.”

You stayed quiet a moment, looking back in the direction where you'd heard your friends calling. You still couldn't hear them, and it worried you that something may have happened.

There was also that white mist from earlier that had grown thicker while Morel wrapped your ankle, slowly settling down around you and making the scene around you look more ethereal.

“Why did you wander out on your own? One of them should've come with you,” Morel said suddenly.

“Oh.... I kinda, um, ran off without telling them anything.”

So much for not sounding like an idiot.

Morel paused, glancing back up at you as he asked “did something happen?”

“... Not really? I mean, kind of, but...” you trailed off for a moment, “it's mostly my fault. I'm the one who isn't trying hard enough to talk it out with them. Ah, I really hope I haven't ruined this trip.”

“I doubt you running off could've ruined it.”

“I hope not. But still, I'll need to apologize, maybe take all of them out for a meal after to make up for it,” you said.

There was a sad expression on Morel's face when he looked up at you after you said that. Something in the way he frowned and his brows furrowed at your words made it seem like he knew something you didn't.

You didn't get a chance to question him on it as he finished up wrapping your ankle, handing the remaining bandages back to you as he announced “all done.”

“Ah – Thank you.”

He seemed a bit more cheerful now, though he looked off in the direction you had been looking in.

“Those friends of your still on the trail?” he asked.

“I'm not sure? It really did sound like they were looking for me earlier.”

“I see. Then if they're looking for you maybe we should stay put. Wait for them to get to us. It won't do any good if we all get lost trying to find each other.”

That made sense, and you nodded.

Morel sat down next to you, the boulder being large enough to fit both of you, though he did need to squeeze in a bit closer than you would normally be comfortable with a complete stranger. You found that you didn't mind much, though. Although for the sake of your friend group you wanted to be found soon, you didn't dislike the idea of spending more time alone with Morel. He seemed trustworthy, and being in such close contact more than made up for all the stuff from earlier.

…. Good lord. Were you really this weak for a random guy you found attractive?

The mist seemed to be growing thicker, but you could still make out most of the trees that surrounded you.

“What are you doing up here, Morel?” you asked, “it doesn't look like you're dressed for hiking.”

“I live here.”

“Really? On the mountain?”

He nodded.

“Wow. I didn't know anybody lived up here. Is it just you or are there others?”

“There's a few of us up here, though my neighbors tend to keep to themselves,” he told you, “a lot of them just want to be left alone.”

It seemed surprising to you that there was more than one person who lived up on a mountain like this. Especially since you had been under the impression that the area was part of a park. Maybe his place had been built beforehand and he was grandfathered in somehow?

The more you thought about it, the more you felt that didn't make a lot of sense. But before you could voice that opinion, it was like the thought was forcibly torn from your mind, and something within you encouraged you to try and learn more about him.

“Are you one who wants to be left alone?” you asked him instead.

“For the most part,” he answered, “but I don't mind people on occasion. My neighbors, not so much.”

“Would they have gotten mad at me?”

“Definitely.”

“Guess I'm lucky you found me and not them,” you said.

He smiled at that, but didn't say anything, and you continued.

“Although if your neighbors want isolation, isn't it inconvenient that the trail's been set up here? Don't you have to worry about people trespassing?”

“Most people know not to go off the path,” Morel said, “though I guess you're not one of them.”

“It wasn't my fault!” you insisted, “there was a rabbit, and I just - I don't know, needed to follow it.”

Why had you done that again? You'd been questioning it before Morel found you but you'd gotten distracted. It was strange. And did the rabbit really have no face? Maybe your mind was just tired and had made it up or something and you just ran off because you were an idiot.

Where had it even gone, anyway?

Morel tilted his head, smirking at you.

“I thought you said you were looking for more ruins? You mean you were actually chasing after rabbits?” he asked.

….. You forgot that you lied.

Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt while you looked away in embarrassment.

“.... I didn't want you to think I was stupid,” you mumbled.

He laughed at that, and you felt worse about your lie, turning your head away further as you made a point to not look at him.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it,” he said, one of his hands coming up to playfully tousle your hair. You glanced back at him then, and the sour look on your face lessened a little when you saw how he smiled at you.

“I've also gone off wandering after random things,” he continued, “I've hurt myself a few times, too, so don't feel bad.”

That made you feel a bit better, and you relaxed a little more.

“What kind of things have you gone wandering after?” you asked him.

“Things that you probably wouldn't believe if I told you.”

That answer was oddly cryptic, though you supposed that made two of you, since you were still too nervous to divulge the fact about the rabbit lacking a face. Maybe Morel had seen freakier things up here. But since he didn't seem to want to go into that, maybe it'd be better to steer the conversation away from the potentially supernatural.

“Were you wandering after something when you found me?” was your next question.

“No, not today. I was in the middle of looking for something I had lost.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“Distracting you, and making you wait here with me.”

“It's not that important,” Morel said, “and what kind of guy would I be if I left you out here by yourself? Especially with that fog that's settling in.”

“I'd probably be okay. Oh. Unless there's bears. Then I might not be.”

You remembered the shape you had seen when you had first arrived, and you asked him “are there bears on this mountain?”

“I've never seen any.”

You hummed at that, thinking again about what you had seen and trying to figure out what it was.

“Did you see one?” asked Morel.

“I don't know. I saw something weird when I was in the parking lot, and I'm still not sure what it was,” you explained, “I've seen some other stuff, too. Some a bit more freaky than a bear.”

“Like what?”

“.... Do you promise not to laugh at me?”

“I promise, I'm done laughing at you,” Morel said, grinning a little.

Despite being unsure if you could trust him in that regard, you decided to speak anyway.

“So, the rabbit that I saw earlier – I'm not really sure why I followed it, but I noticed it back at the rest area. It seemed kinda weird when I saw it, because it didn't look like it was breathing? And when I got closer, I swear, it didn't have a face. No features at all. It was just blank.”

You prepared yourself for him to laugh at you again. When he didn't say anything, you looked back to him.

Morel looked surprisingly neutral.

“That does sound strange,” was his reply.

“.... Do you believe me?”

Morel looked away from you, leaning back on his hands as his gaze seemed to go to the cloudy sky above the trees that surrounded the two of you.

“You know, I think I do. Living up here, I've had my fair share of strange occurrences. Not quite like that, but maybe I just haven't encountered that before.”

It was a relief to hear that he wasn't mocking you, and it was even more of a relief that he actually believed you, as you had been worried that his reaction might resemble what had happened earlier with Aiden and Fawn. Him believing you spurred you to speak more.

“I saw something before, too,” you said, “down near the ruins, at one point I thought I saw a man standing next to them. But when I looked up from my camera he was gone.”

“What did he look like?”

“Not sure. I saw him, but I somehow didn't really see him? Or I just saw his general shape,” you continued, “the others were joking that it was a ghost.”

“Could've been,” said Morel, “this is ancient land with a lot of older things attached to it. There are probably more than a few wayward souls that have found a home here.”

“..... Do you think they could be dangerous?” you asked him.

“Maybe some of them. But most people should be safe if they stay on the path.”

He grinned again when he looked back at you.

“Who knows. You could've come across something bad,” he said jokingly.

“Don't you and your neighbors live up here? It can't be all that bad if that's the case,” you responded, “though I think I'll try to keep from chasing after anymore weird rabbits.”

“Probably a good idea.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. The mist had expanded as you continued to wait for your friends, who you hadn't heard in some time now. It should've worried you more that you couldn't hear them – they hadn't given up on you, had they? Even if they were really annoyed with you they surely wouldn't go that far. Yet you found yourself thinking even if that was the case, it would be okay. Morel was so nice, he wouldn't just leave you here if they didn't show up, right? At the very least, he'd take you back to the trail.

If your friends had bailed on you, then maybe you should repay him by taking him out to dinner.

The tops of the trees were slowly becoming more obscured as the fog continued to drift down, and all you could think was that it looked pretty.

“Is it nice living up here?” you asked him.

“Yeah, pretty nice. Lots of good scenery.”

He seemed to be thinking about something, and you noticed that his shoulders sagged slightly.

“Being completely alone can get to you, though.”

There was a sadness in his voice. He did say that him wanting to be alone was just 'for the most part'. Unless that was a lie. What sort of circumstance could drive him to be living alone in the wilderness if he didn't actually want to be here? You wanted to know, but worried that might be crossing a boundary of some sort, and that made you hesitate to question him further.

“Do you not want to be here?” you asked him softly.

“No, I do,” said Morel, “but I also liked being around people. It just became hard to be around them after a while.”

“Hard to be around them?” you repeated.

“Yeah. It's.... It's just tough to explain,” he said.

“Sorry.”

He shook his head.

“Don't worry about it.”

It confused you, and while you wanted to ask a few more questions, you got a sense that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

You found yourself wondering if Morel suffered from some extreme form of anxiety or agoraphobia. He seemed like a pretty calm person, but maybe that was only because he was in an environment where he was comfortable. That could have made sense, although you mentally berated yourself shortly after for jumping to conclusions like that just because he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe you should try to move the topic to something else.

“Does anyone come up to visit you?” you asked.

“No.”

Ah. Okay then.

“Then...” you trailed off briefly as you tried to find the right words, “ as long as it isn't too hard to be around me, would you care if I came back to visit you? I could repay you with all you've done for me with a dinner. Maybe bring it by next week or something like that?”

Morel smiled at that, and yet to you it seemed forced. You got another sense that he knew something that you didn't, and that he was intentionally keeping that information from you.

What would he know that he'd be keeping from you?

The thought left your head just as quickly as it entered when he spoke again.

“I guess I could handle having you stop by,” he said jokingly, “you're pretty tolerable.”

“Ah, that's good. Glad to know I can at least be tolerated,” you answered back in a similar joking manner.

He chuckled at that.

“All jokes aside, it'll be nice to have some company up here,” he said softly.

It felt good that he accepted you so easily. Maybe he accepted you a little too easily given the short amount of time he had known you, but if he was living up here all by himself maybe he was just that desperate.

And the argument could also be made that you were similarly being too trusting of him. It was possible that this was just a facade of his that would drop the instant you were vulnerable. That'd probably be what Colton would tell you if he knew the thoughts going around your head.

Although you were already pretty vulnerable, weren't you? Alone in the wilderness with a man you just met and a sprained ankle, so you weren't even able to run if you needed to. Even with your friends that were hopefully close by, with Morel's size it would've been easy enough for him to drag you off if he wanted. Helping you, sitting down and waiting with you for your friends just to gain your trust seemed to be a bit too much effort if his ultimate goal was to take you away.

You forced down those silly, anxious thoughts of yours. Morel wouldn't hurt you, you were certain of it.

The mist around the two of you was growing thicker still, but you didn't pay it much mind as you looked back down to your lap.

Something was sticking out of the front pocket of your jacket, and then you remembered that you still had that pipe you had found this whole time, having absentmindedly stuck it into your pocket when Morel moved you earlier. A thought then occurred to you as you looked at it again.

“This wouldn't be yours, would it?” you asked him as you pulled it out to show him.

Looking down at it, you noted that he didn't seem too surprised as he said to you “it would, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That's what I was looking for when I came across you,” Morel said.

“Huh. That's some weird coincidence,” you said as you extended your hand out to give him the pipe.

“It happens,” he said. He thanked you as he took it from you, pocketing it before his hands went back to where they had been before.

There was no urgency within you as you continued to sit with Morel, the mist still swirling and settling around the two of you. The more the mist grew, the more the thoughts of your friends and the worries within you began to slip away.

You had nothing to worry about.

Had you been paying more attention to him, you would've seen Morel stiffen ever so slightly, maybe even heard him curse under his breath as he sensed something that was now in the general vicinity. But you only noticed when he stood up suddenly, hands on his hips as he turned to face you.

“Hate to say it, but this fog'll probably only get worse. I'm not sure it's a good idea to keep waiting here,” he told you.

It had seemed to become exponentially worse as soon as he spoke those words, the fog that had been fairly moderate now surprisingly thick, to the point that you had a hard time making out the trees that were closest to you. Somehow you hadn't noticed just how bad it was until now.

“Ah. Yeah, you're right,” you said, “I think I remember which direction the trail is in. I should be able to make it back on my own.”

“What – no, that's not...”

Morel was rather flustered now, a hand running through his hair as he continued “even if you can make it back there, I doubt you'll have an easy time going down those stairs with your ankle like that. And with how hard it is to see right now, there's a 100% chance that you'll end up falling.”

You nodded, though you weren't certain where he was going. It seemed like a lot to ask him to walk you back in such circumstances, and far, far too much to have him take you back down the mountain.

“Since we're not sure what happened with your friends, I think the best thing I can do is take you back to my place for the time being.”

That hadn't been what you were expecting, and you opened your mouth to second-guess that idea until he spoke again.

“Just until the fog clears,” he assured you, “and this way you can get some actual rest inside instead of sitting out in the cold like this.”

… Morel's proposal seemed a lot nicer, you had to admit.

“I guess,” you began, “as long as you're sure it isn't too much trouble.”

He smiled at you as he said “I promise, it isn't.”

Any worries that this may be overstepping some kind of boundary faded from your mind after his reassurance, and you looked about the forest again.

“I guess we should try to find something for me to use as a walking stick,” you said, squinting your eyes when the fog proved to be too thick to see clearly, “unless you're okay with me leaning on you.”

“I've got a better idea.”

With that, Morel turned around and knelt down, his arms stretched out behind his back as he said “I'll carry you.”

After assuring you that this way would be faster, it didn't take much for you to take him up on his offer. After you made sure not to put any weight on your ankle while you climbed onto his back, Morel slowly lifted you up after he had your legs secured around his waist and you loosely held on around his neck.

With the sensation of you being pressed against him, of your warmth and virtually feeling the way your heart was steadily beating against his back, Morel let out a quiet, relieved sigh as he began the trek back to his home. He was grateful that you hadn't questioned him or tried to insist that he take you back to the trail anyway. If he hadn't been able to convince you, he'd need to take you by force. Such a thing would have been easy for him to do, and it was probably more common for those like him to take their captured humans while they kicked and screamed.

But he didn't want to traumatize you during the journey to your new home.

Luckily his aura that had been slowly engulfing you was able to influence you enough that you weren't questioning him on much, so the trip would be a peaceful one, although it was marred by how dishonest he was being about all of this.

If only he could just sit you down and explain everything, why he was doing this. But he knew you wouldn't believe him.

No reasonable person would believe him if he told them he was a banshee.

Saying that would only make you feel unsafe, maybe try to run from him, and then you'd end up even more injured in the process, and even more upset when you found that you could no longer leave the mountain.

But even that would be better than the alternative.

Morel just didn't like seeing people die.

The role of a banshee was to warn when death was coming. To let out that unearthly wail so the human marked for death could prepare and make peace with their fate. For Morel, when he saw someone who was marked to die, it looked like a cloud had settled around them. An aura that grew darker and darker as the human came closer to the time of their death until the aura had blackened completely. Then Death came to collect that unfortunate's soul.

And Morel was unable to do anything but give a heads up.

It was depressing. Being part of that cycle, watching as human after human had that cloud around them turn black and vanish as it left their lifeless bodies behind. And during the last years he had spent in the heavily populated areas, he found that more and more people were panicking when they heard his warning as a fear of death had grown stronger as time had gone by. The people who feared for their lives did everything in their power to try and prevent their deaths, and more often than not their attempts to thwart death ended up being what caused it. All because they had heard his warning.

It began to feel as though he was the one responsible for those who had died that way, and that felt even more depressing, to know that they had died because of him. By the end, Morel had grown tired of it all.

So he left.

He left the areas that were overrun with humans and found a home on an ancient mountainside. And for a while, he found some peace.

But time moved forward as it always did, and evidently, people forgot what areas were meant to stay sacred when they put together the hiking trail. It had angered many of his neighbors, but most were compelled to stay away from it and leave the humans alone as long as they stayed on the path.

And yet some of them couldn't do that, and on occasion the ones that strayed would run into some of the more malevolent spirits that resided on the mountain alongside him. He could usually tell when someone would die to the supernatural. The aura about them just had a certain feel to it, but Morel chose to stay out of it completely, not wanting to cause problems with his neighbors.

Even after trying to get away, he was still forced to see that cloud of death.

It was no different when he saw you after you first arrived.

Morel had happened to be at the base of the mountain when he saw you, the death cloud around you one shade off of completely black. You'd be dead before the end of the day. Perhaps during your trip in the woods, he had thought to himself. Yet as he observed you more, he felt that wouldn't be the case. Something told him that you would make it through this hiking trip of yours, but you would die almost immediately after. You seemed pretty healthy, so illness didn't appear to be the cause. An accident, then? That would be more likely. While he couldn't determine what exactly was going to happen, whatever it was would be sudden and violent.

Looking at the rest of your group, he found that none of them were marked for death like you were. Whatever happened after you all left, you would be the only one to die.

Something compelled Morel to keep watch over you, and so he followed behind, listening in on the conversations your friends were having and waiting for you to speak up.

You weren't saying much, however, and when he moved off the trail to walk beside you so he could get a better look at your face, he was taken aback by how dejected you seemed.

Something was eating at you, but you were keeping quiet about it as you continued to follow behind, almost unnoticed by the others in your group.

Your last hours of life were going to be spent with you feeling ignored and lonely, and that depression Morel felt when it came to these things returned. You shouldn't need to die today; you should've had years left of your life, not a scant few hours. It wasn't right, but there was nothing he could do.

Or was there?

An idea came to Morel, and he became lost in his own thoughts as he found himself walking away from the trail as your group came closer to the stairs. He made his way towards what had been a chapel for some long-forgotten deity, mulling over the thought in his head.

There was something he could do to alter your fate, both him and the magic still in the mountain powerful enough to allow him to lay a claim on you. But was it worth angering Death itself to keep you safe?

As he contemplated what to do, he looked back to you.

You had taken your phone out, holding it in a way that made it clear you were aiming to get a picture of the ruins he just so happened to be standing next to.

It took less than a second for him to realize what had happened when you blinked in surprise and took your eyes off of your phone.

You could see him.

You may not have been aware of it, but your eyes met his in that moment. Based off how you looked him over, you weren't able to see him all that clearly, but he could still tell when your eyes met again as you tried to make out any features of his face.

Then one of the people from your group called out and you looked away, and Morel made himself vanish. The confusion was clear when your head turned back and found him to be gone, and you ended up following your group again with your brows furrowed.

It was something that happened on occasion with certain people, another confirmation that you were close to death: as your final hour drew near, the barrier between you and the spiritual realm was thinning and you were beginning to see things that you weren't meant to.

When you looked back one more time, you managed to look in the exact spot where he had been standing, though this time he made sure you couldn't see him. He felt the way your eyes met his again before you turned your head back, that black cloud of death still engulfing you.

Something about your situation and that sight made Morel snap.

Screw fate. He needed to save you.

As he made his decision and began to follow you in earnest, a part of him was aware that saving you wouldn't do anything for the countless people that died every day, but he felt that if he could save at least one person from an unfair and untimely death, he could live better with himself. If he could keep you alive and happy, it was worth it.

He'd been worried that luring you away with the rabbit wouldn't work. You were far enough along that you could see it for what it really was: a creation that he'd made out of mist and smoke. Yet during the time you had spent getting up to the rest area, he had expanded his aura around you for long enough that any reservations you may have had about the slightly horrifying thing before you were easily pushed to the side as he compelled you to go after his creation, to get you further into the woods and by yourself.

He hadn't planned on you getting injured in the process, and when he heard your friends calling for you sooner than he expected he threw his pipe next to you in an act of desperation and just hoped that you would grab it. As long as you picked up something that belonged to him of your own free will, then you would belong to him.

You had done just that. And therefore, he was now free to do whatever he pleased with you.

“Is there a reason why we need to get to your place fast?” you asked him as he carried you back.

“You see how thick the fog is, right? I need to get us there before I lose my way,” Morel said, “can't embarrass myself like that, can I?”

Actually he just wanted to get out of there because of the other being that had been approaching the two of you. As much as he was able to hold influence over you, you would no doubt panic if you saw a headless woman sitting astride a horse casually come up to you.

“That makes sense,” you said. Then you giggled a little to yourself.

“I'm still mad that you laughed at me earlier,” you told him, “so if you do get lost, then I'm allowed to laugh at you.”

“Fair enough. If I get us lost you can laugh at me,” he agreed.

You laughed a little bit more.

“I won't actually do that. If we do get lost I'll probably be more concerned with trying to keep calm.”

“Don't worry; I know this mountain like the back of my hand,” he assured you.

If you had really been thinking about it, you might have questioned him on that. If he knew his way around that well, why couldn't he take you back to the trail? Why was he insisting on taking you back to his home?

But with the way his aura was enveloping you completely, no such thoughts came to mind, and you instead softly rested your head against him, feeling content.

You were rather easy to influence, and that fact made Morel feel badly for manipulating you the way he was.

He'd make it up to you, he told himself. He'd done good by wrapping up your ankle, and now he'd take care of you.

Glancing back at you, he felt satisfied to see that the black cloud of death had vanished. You no longer needed to fear anything like that.

You belonged to him now, and Morel would keep you safe for the rest of eternity.

[notabled-noodle]

so i'm starting to think I might also have adhd in addition to being autistic - partially because one of my past psychiatrists also had his suspicions (but the Qb test was negative) and partially because I'm on ritalin and it's the only thing that keeps me awake and partially because I've been noticing I've been like laser-focusing on shit - which I'm now realizing is probably what I was doing as a kid whenever I read - and I'm pretty sure it's adhd hyperfocus.

like I spent a day making memes because i was feeling sick and pretty much forgot to eat (and also forgot to take my lunch dose of ritalin). then the next day I went to an event with my mom and made a painting, after which I was completely wiped out for some reason.

and in the past four days I've written EIGHTEEN pages (single spaced 12 point font) of a story that will never see the light of day under this name or my real name, and I actually couldn't stop writing - I stayed up past midnight finishing a section despite the fact that I was starting to get a headache from being sleep-deprived and dehydrated by the end of it.

so I'm thinking about trying to get tested again, but I can't come off my ritalin or else I won't be able to stay awake, and I'm worried that I'll just get told I don't have it again because the Qb test is negative. Do you have any information about how the process will go and what I should know about it going into it? Anything I should keep in mind?

Also, is it possible that the reason some people with ADHD test negative because they hyperfocus on the Qb test?

No pressure for any of this. If nothing else I just. Need to get out and write down the idea that I may have ADHD and tell someone or else it's just going to sit and fester in my head and bother me.

Thanks either way /gen

I can’t respond to anything re: medication because I am not a pharmacist or doctor of any kind, and I don’t want to be making any judgements one way or another where they’re concerned. I’m also completely unmedicated so I can’t even speak to personal experience

however!

if you want an ADHD diagnosis, here’s what I’d recommend:

try keeping a symptoms/traits journal

make a list of all your main symptoms/traits

look at how they intersect with autism, noting the similarities/differences

bring this information with you to your appointment

all of my diagnosis stuff was basically just. being read a list of different symptoms and different ways those symptoms can present, and being asked questions about how they apply to me. then they asked similar questions to my parents. then they had me do a bunch of questionnaires, and that was that

a problem for a lot of people with ADHD is that we tend to forget what we feel like when we no longer feel that way (lack of emotional permanence). so if someone with ADHD is filling out a questionnaire while they’re happy, hyperfocusing, etc… their brains are going to act like they’re happy all the time. similarly, filling it out while sad can make it come across like we’re depressed because we can’t remember not being sad.

this is why it’s important to try your best to keep a record of this stuff. you can refer to it when you’re doing questionnaires too (especially if they make you answer the questions from home). having the record there is a way to remind your brain that you have experienced a wide variety of things, not just whatever you happen to be experiencing at that moment

I hope this makes sense, and I wish you all the best with your diagnosis stuff

[brattyfics]

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat. 

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

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[ptergwen]

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

-

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

-

if i forgot you please lmk!

[from-a-reckless-writer]

The first tell was the body next to her. The second was the warmth. Her bed was never warm these days. The first two things had already clued her in that there was something off. Off was an understatement. She’s certain she passed out on her office floor clutching a bottle of alcohol and Jess was going to kill her in the morning. So, how the fuck-

The longer she stays there, eyes closed, feeling the breathing of a stranger, the more she’s convinced she’s suffered from amnesia. 

Beyond scared she opens her eyes, hoping, praying that she didn’t bring home some idiot from a cheap lesbian bar. Her eyes land on blonde hair and an all too familiar set of defined shoulders and Lena lets out a gasp of surprise. She sobers up, jerks upright. Jolting the pair of arms wrapped around her waist and making her companion wake abruptly. 

“Lena- Wha- Why’re you awake?”

“Kara-” That was all she was capable of as of the moment, because Kara was sitting up and flicking on the bedside lamp, letting Lena glimpse the small clock on the nightstand that read 4: 00 a.m. 

Kara’s voice was all raspy and sleep-laden and she was looking at Lena with concern. She was looking at Lena like they’ve done this all the time. And they did. 

Once. 

She remembers jerking awake screaming from nightmares and Kara holding her; remembers waking up to Kara’s screams and holding her. 

But this-

This wasn’t right. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asks, crinkle forming. And Lena just stares and stares and-

“Kara, this isn’t real.”

“What? Oh, baby, come here. That dream must’ve really done a number on you, huh?” Kara coos and she gathers Lena in her arms. Lena can do nothing but melt and follow Kara’s movements, her mind is still reeling. 

Trying to decipher the events that had led here. This wasn’t real. This-

A tremble shakes the bed. Lena’s heart rate ticks up, Kara seems to have heard because she’s tightening her embrace and more words come out of her lips, but Lena doesn’t hear a word of it.

“I’m here, you’re safe. I’m here.” 

Lena finally finds her voice and she slowly tries to extricate herself from Kara. She can feel her hesitating to let her go. 

“This isn’t real,” She repeats and Kara is ready to protest, “Please, Kara. Please listen to me?”

She nods. Kara was never one to deny Lena anything, anyway. Lena sighs a breath of relief. 

“Thank you. Uh- I think this isn’t real, Kara. I think I’m inside a Black Mercy induced dream.”

And as if it heard a cue, the bed and the rest of the room vibrates as if ashamed of being called-out so easily. 

“No, no, no. You aren’t. You’re real. I’m real, You-” Kara is scrambling for words, “Look- Here, feel this?” Kara frantically grabs her hand and presses it to her own chest, “Can you feel it? This is real. Don’t say it isn-”

Lena feels like sobbing, because it does feel real. The strong beats underneath her palm thundering through her very soul. It feels so so so fucking real. She’s never wanted something to be real as bad as this. She wants to believe, because Kara is looking at her with those baby blue eyes and she wants to say that ‘Yes, I believe it real. We’re real.’

She can’t.

“Kara, the bed is trembling. Can you feel it? This isn't real. You’re in my head.”

It was brutal. She watches Kara’s face fall. She retracts her hand back. 

“How are you so sure that this isn’t real?”

The question was asked with so much fear. 

“Because,” she starts shaky but certain, “I hurt you, Kara. And that is the one thing that I can never forget.”

It was true. She can never forget the way Kara crumpled to her feet. Can’t forget the way the Girl of Steel broke by Lena’s hands. Can’t forget the tear-stricken face. 

Can’t forget the pleas. 

“Don’t do this, Lena. Please, come on. Please, stay. Don’t leave. Not you, please I can’t-”

“Oh.”

The silence was deafening. She can’t look at Kara as she processes everything. So she takes the time to survey the room. And God, every inch of the room screams how much they’ve stitched their lives with the other. 

There were books haphazardly stacked in one corner, a painting easel in the other, Kara’s cape shining in the dim light of the lamp, Lena’s old MIT sweatshirt at the foot of the bed. 

A wedding portrait. They were married here. Fuck. 

Lena chances a glance at her left hand and not only does she find a ring but also a matching gold bracelet. A Kryptonian mating band. Now, she notices that Kara’s ring was worn on her neck next to her Mother’s necklace Lena supposes she wears it underneath the Super suit and a matching bracelet sitting on her left wrist. 

“I’m sorry,” Lena says ‘for everything.’ she wants to add but she remembers this isn’t her Kara. She doesn’t have a Kara. She doesn’t have any part of Kara. Not anymore.

“What are you sorry for? If anyone could figure out they were inside a parasite induced dream, it would be you.  You’re a genius but you’re dumb for apologizing. You should reject the fantasy now, Lena. You’ll die.”

Damn it, even here. 

Even here Lena is still hurting her and Kara still wants to save her. 

The tears finally fall. The sobs come next. 

“Oh, Lena. Come here. It’s okay. I’m here,”

“I- I know, I’ll die but God, Kara, I want to stay here. I- You’re my everything, you know?”

“I know, Lena. I’ve always known. You don’t have to die because I’ll always know. You need to get out of here now,” She whispers against Lena’s temple and Lena takes the time to breathe her in. God, even the scent smells real. 

“Y-you’re right. I should go, but-” Lena doesn’t know how to ask for what she wants. That was what her therapist had said the first time she booked an appointment.

“But what?”

“Tell me about our life here first?” At that Kara pulls away a bit to look into her eyes; gauging if this is really what Lena wants. 

It is, it’s what she wants but more than that it’s what she needs. The reassurance that somewhere out there, there was a world in which they made each other happy. That in a universe out there--whether real or not--the both of them had a taste of a happy ending.

“Okay, okay yeah. But first, promise me you’ll get out of here as fast as you can, once we’re done?” 

She was never one to deny Lena Luthor anything, remember? She was more than happy to recount the entirety of their love story to her.

“Thank you.” And Lena can’t help but press a soft kiss to Kara’s cheek. 

“Where do you want to start?”

“Do we have a dog?”

“Krypto,” Kara says with a shy smile as if she knows that Lena would laugh at the goofy sentimental name choice, “And a cat, Streaky Jr., you don’t allow pets in the bedroom so,”

“I’m impressed we have the time for pets,” Lena whispers as she shifts closer to Kara in the bed. Heart now beating in a steady calm rhythm, gone was the panic earlier, now replaced by a sense of security, no matter how false it is. 

“Well, you decided to distribute most of the workload to Jess--who you promoted to board member by the way, and to Sam. And since, Wednesday is my first day as Editor-in-Chief, my schedule’s not as busy as it was.”

It was nice to hear that. The way they have obviously chosen to grow into themselves together. She was glad that in her perfect world she hadn’t forgotten about Jess and Sam.

“Oh, and also you spend most of your days in our home lab with Jack anyway. So, the pets get plenty of love.”

“Jacky’s alive here?”

“Yeah, you reversed the nanotech matrix. You saved him.”

And the crying fest begins anew. 

“I miss him, so much.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lena doesn’t have to explain her reaction, Kara knows how to read her anyway.

At the reminder of Jack, Lena finds the courage to ask a question she’s never thought she would want to ask.

“What about Lex and Lillian?”

“Well, your brother’s probably drunk in an L-Corp gala somewhere and Lillian’s probably plotting about how she’s going to insult my next article-”

So, she still has her brother and it seems like Lillian’s not much of a xenophobe as she is in reality but she senses that she still is a bad mother with the way Kara talks.

“When did we get married?”

“Two years after we first met. We had two, actually.”

“I’m guessing I insisted on a Kryptonian wedding and you insisted on a human one?”

She knows that one, because she’s been thinking about it. Well, at least she was before everything went to shit. She wanted to give Kara a Kryptonian ceremony. She had wanted to show her that Lena would be honored to share everything Kara’s world had to offer.

“Are we-” she hesitated, “Are we happy, Kara?”

She wasted no time in answering, “The happiest. You make me the happiest soul alive in this universe and in any universe.”

Fresh tears fall down the side of her face and Kara wipes them away before speaking, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, I guess it’s only fair.” Lena sniffles and prepares her mind for what she knows will be an emotionally-charged exchange not that this has been an easy conversation thus far.

“Out there, are you happy?”

Lena’s air is stolen from her. Well, she doesn’t know how to answer that one. 

“Sometimes,” she whispers. She’s not happy most of the time but sometimes she is.

Sometimes, Ruby calls her to tell her about a science project or sometimes Nia sends her meme even though she hasn’t been to Game Nights for almost a year now, sometimes Brainy takes her out for a drink and she feels like she’s got a little brother to call her own. 

So yeah, sometimes. Because the thought of perpetual happiness without Kara in her life is impossible. 

“Only sometimes?” Kara asks, brow furrowing.

“Yeah, only sometimes. Not like it matters, anyway.”

“Well, of course it matters! Your happiness matters!” Kara exclaims, old habits die hard what can she say?

But then Kara takes a turn from defensive to curious again, “Am I happy? Out there? I mean?” 

“I- I have no idea.”

Lena waits for the answer to sink in to Kara. 

“What? What do you mean you have no idea?”

“Remember when I said I hurt you?” 

Kara gives her a nod.

“Well, I haven’t seen you for a long time. I’ve been avoiding you. Normally people tend to not seek out their exes, you know.” 

She’s trying to keep it lighthearted. She’s trying not to let this Kara see how much she craves her presence, how much she wishes she could see Kara again. Don’t get her wrong, Supergirl is plastered every minute on the news, but- 

That’s not who she wants to see. 

“She’s miserable,” Kara answers point-blank leaving no room for argument, “If you’ve been avoiding me, I’d be miserable.”

That has Lena speechless. 

Because miserable would be an understatement of how things had been ever since they ended things. 

Ever since Lena ended things. 

“I don’t like not being with you, you know?” Kara states as if Lena doesn’t feel the same.

“I- I don’t like that either.”

“I know.”

She has to go. Lena knows she has to go but Kara is looking at her so sincerely and she can feel the love and she knows this is nothing but an intricate trap formed by an alien parasite slowly killing her. She has to go but-

“Lena!” 

The both of them are startled and four eyes immediately land to-

Kara?! No, not Kara. Supergirl.

“Supergirl,” She says; surprise coloring her voice. She didn’t know Supergirl would go in and save her. Hell, she didn’t even know how she found her. But then again, she’s tried solving the puzzle that is Kara Zor-El but had never been able to piece it together. 

Supergirl takes a look at her doppelganger in bed with Lena; a scene so familiar to her. A scene she’s replayed again and again in her head. A scene that was once their reality then a memory and now an illusion. She takes a step closer.

“Lena, we have to go, please. Please believe me, this isnt-” 

“-real,” Lena finishes for her and Supegirl looks stunned, “I know, Supergirl. I know how to reject my own fantasy. I’ve had plenty of practice, after all.”

She aims for sarcasm, because fucking fucking hell, how the fuck does anybody expect her to function if there were two Kara’s in front of her?

That was asking for too much. 

Beside her, Kara had gone silent. It seems like she knows what comes next. She knows what Supergirl intends to do. They’re the same person after all. 

“It’s okay,” Lena hears Kara say and she breaks away from the hero’s gaze to find Kara looking at her with those eyes again.

“It’s okay, Lena,” She repeats, “It’s okay, Supergirl’s here. You’re gonna be safe. Stay safe for me, yeah?”

“Lena we have to go. Now,” Supergirl commands from the other side of the room. 

“Okay, yeah,” She whispers then she turns to Supergirl, “Just give me a chance to say goodbye, please?”

Supergirl stares at her for a moment then at Kara then she gives them both a nod and turns back to give them privacy.

“Last question?”

“Hit me.”

“What’s your surname?”

“Luthor.”

Fuck. She shouldn’t feel this surprised but damn, hearing Kara confirm it? Lena doesn’t know how to feel about that. She doesn’t know how to feel about all of this. 

“Just like you promised.”

“Just like I promised.” 

The words are echoed back to her and Lena hates the way she’s noticed how stiff Supergirl’s posture had become in her periphery. Ignores the fact that Supergirl has superhearing. 

“Thank you for indulging me, Kara.”

“Always.”

Goodbye, darling.”

And then everything fades to black.

author’s note: hiya lovely people send me an ask if i should write a follow-up for this.

[weird-dere-fics]

Storytime! (Part 1)

Chef!Yukihira Soma x Cooking YouTuber!Reader

This is set 2 years after the end of the manga, meaning Soma is 27 years old in this story. 

Let us begin~ :)

You breathed a sigh through your nose as you adjusted your camera’s position on it’s new tripod. Unfortunately, your last one broke after you tripped over it and knocked the whole thing over. It was not a fun time for you. The floor was hard! You weren’t seriously hurt though, which was good. You were also extremely happy that your camera itself didn’t break. You would really be in for some money then. But anyway, right now wasn’t about that.

That was a week ago! Right now you were preparing to start filming your newest YouTube video. You had gotten your room clean, made sure the lighting was set up correctly, and ensured your spot for the video was nice and comfy in case the video ended up being extra long. (You would cut it down in the editing phase if it was too long, of course). “I better charge this thing after recording…” You murmured to yourself.

Once everything was properly prepared, you pressed the record button and sat down in your seat. You smiled at the camera, doing your usual greeting before jumping right into it. “You guys have been begging for a Q&A for some time now, so today I’m here to do just that. I hope you guys are excited to get to know a little more about me, or to just laugh with me,” you chuckled. You had a feeling some of the questions your subscribers and followers sent in would be memes.

“Also, welcome to my room!” you beamed, spreading your arms wide as you gestured to the space around you. “All of you that come to this channel regularly know I’m always in a kitchen for my videos, so enjoy the new scenery~. For all those watching one of my videos for the first time, hello! If you wanna see my normal videos in my kitchen, check out the rest of my channel. Hit like and subscribe. Turn that bell on! So you can be notified and all that.” You pulled out your phone, opening your twitter account and scrolling through all your recent tweets. After finding the one you were looking for from like a week ago, you tapped on it and opened the thread of replies. “So,”  you tilted your head a little, looking back at the camera, “I asked you guys last week to send in some questions on twitter for a Q&A, and a lot of you came to deliver. Thank you, by the way~.” You probably should have picked out some specific tweets in preparation for video, but didn’t. So it seemed you would instead just pick which ones you want to answer yourself. There might have been a lot of scrolling involved, but you would just cut that out in post.

“First question: When is your next video?” 

You thought for a second, “Well after this video is up, I’ll be working on a baking video. Should be up in 2 or 3 days max once you finish watching this one.”

The second question asked about how you liked being home again for a while.

You travel a lot due to your passion, you see. When you were younger, you had found you really enjoyed exploring culture. Especially through food. You got this from your parents, who were very much the same. One was a polygot and translator, another was a foodie. You had been around the world since you were young. 

As you grew and lived in different places, you found you worked a lot of jobs at different restaurants due to your love of food. That was until you started making money by doing your own thing on YouTube. You cooked and baked, and vlogged when you traveled to different places. Currently, your permanent home was in Japan. Though your home was here, you still ended up traveling a lot because of someone special. For the last few weeks though, you had gotten to stay home and relax a little. It was nice! And you explained that to the camera before moving on to the next questions.

How old are you? 

“I’m 25.”

Are you a morning person?

“If you mean staying up until 3am or worst case scenario 5am, yes,” you giggled.

Of all the countries you’ve been to, what do you think is your favorite? 

“Probably Taiwan~.”

I wanna be like you and have fun with my cooking, but I’m also so hard on myself. I’m really not good at it. How can I do what you do? You smiled softly, “We all have to start somewhere. Just keep cooking and trying to improve. I used to be really hard on myself too. Especially when I switched cooking jobs. You just have to learn to roll with the punches and believe in yourself. To be honest with you, I didn’t really start to let go of that harsh self criticism until I met someone special. Maybe you’ll meet someone like that too?” Your smile grew bigger, “I sure hope you meet that someone!” You scrolled a bit more, looking through the slew of questions you got before you laughed out loud. Funny how you got a question like this after mentioning ‘someone special’.

You single, bae?

You tuck some hair behind your ear and pucker your lips tiktok style as you look to the side for a moment, pausing for dramatic effect. ”No.” a deep voice answered for you, chuckling somewhere in front of you.

Your eyes widened as you started laughing more, your eyes landing on a familiar man with scarlet hair leaned against your shared bedroom doorway. “H-Hi,” you giggled, “You’re home?” “Uh huh. You recording right now?” he grinned. “Yeah, wanna join?” He shrugs before coming to sit next to you. You moved over so he would also be in frame good. “Soooooo,” you sucked in your lips playfully as you wrapped your arms around him, “This is my boyfriend, Soma. He cooks. Like a lot. And he inspires me every day~.” He perked up a little, looking at you, “I do?” “Mmhmmmm~,” you nodded. The golden eyed chef would kiss your cheek. You couldn’t help the smile that split them afterwards. You sat back before grabbing your phone again. “Looks like he gets to answer questions with me!” 

You looked at him slyly, “Don’t roast me.” “No promises,” he snickered. He looked at your phone screen too, eyes moving as he read some of the questions and helped you lengthen your video by answering them. A grin grew once he saw a question he really liked. “Hey, Y/n.” “Yeah?” “Wanna tell the story of how we met?” It was the way you sucked in a breath as your eyes fluttered closed, trying to suppress a smile and laugh. “Oh my god…” you murmured. Soma’s grin became a little mischievous. The way you described everything from your end always cracked him up. You turned to the camera, putting your hands together as you raised your brows, “This is gonna take the rest of the video, guys.”

[tsukishumai]

Away Games - MSBY Black Jackals

A/N: WOW it feels so so long since i’ve done an HC i kinda feel like i forgot how to :( ahhh im sorry this one sucks LOL but im feeling a bit burned out & this brought me a lil comfort so i hope it brings some for u too :)

Bokuto

Shamelessly facetiming you every possible second.

He’s not terribly upset to be away, to be honest, because he’s doing what he loves, but a huge part of him still misses you.

So he settles for the next best thing

And it doesn’t matter what you’re doing; if you’re at work, if you’re out shopping, if you’re sitting on the toilet – Bokuto will blow up your phone until you answer.

“What took you so long to answer?” “Kou, I was on the toilet.” “No way! Me too! Soulmates <3”

He’s always telling you stories about the dumb things that go on during practice, he complains about how his shoulder’s been feeling a little tense lately, and the food at the hotel reminds of the food they used to serve at Fukurodani

But he always wants to hear about your day too. He asks if your coworker is still being a jerk, he wonders if you managed to try the new drink at the café you mentioned the other day, and he reminds you that he’s coming back in a couple days, so make sure you remember to pick him up from the airport!

When he can’t facetime, he’s sending you videos; videos of the guys goofing off at practice, videos of him working out, videos of behind the scene interviews.

He’s sad you don’t get to be there with him but he does everything he can to share his experiences with you anyway

Bokuto even started his own personal tradition during every away game

If MSBY wins, he sends flowers to your door step.

If MSBY loses, he still sends you flowers anyway because he just wants you to know that he’s thinking of you always

Atsumu

He doesn’t want to admit it, but Atsumu goes into emo mode whenever he’s away.

When you ask him how he’s doing, he’ll always tell you that he’s fine

But the pictures Bokuto and Hinata sent you of Atsumu crying into his protein shake tell you a different story.

You try to make him feel better by sending him tiktoks and memes, and it works for a second, until he sees a mug in the tiktok that looks JUST like the mug you got for him when you first started dating, and now all he’s thinking about is how he wants go back home and drink his coffee from that mug, not the cheap paper ones from his hotel room and god, can the days go by any slower?

talk about dramatic

But you can never stand to see Atsumu so down

And you don’t do this every single time, but when MSBY loses and Sakusa was the one to text you a video of Atsumu staring longingly out his hotel window, you asked him what city their next game was going to be in, and bought yourself a plane ticket there.

You don’t want to spoil Atsumu like this. You really don’t, and you usually won’t

But when you walk into the gym, Atsumu’s eyes land on you, and his entire face lights up, his whole demeanor changes, he’s standing a little taller, his smile a little wider, and all of a sudden, the whole room just felt so much brighter.

He’s in the middle of a pre-game interview, and all of a sudden his words trail off and the interviewer’s like “Miya-san? You were saying?”

But he can’t wait any more, so he’ll excuse himself, and all cameras are on him when he scoops you up from the floor and plant kisses all over your face.

You don’t always spoil Atsumu like this, but when he points at you after scoring his third service ace in a row, you know you’ve done a good thing

Sakusa

grumpycat.jpg

Sakusa doesn’t tell you he misses you because he doesn’t really think he does? It’s normal for professional athletes to spend time away from their s/o, right? This was to be expected, Sakusa knew you guys would have to spend some time apart, he was prepared for this.

Still, irritation floods through him when he wakes up to a shrill alarm instead of your sweet voice. 

He snaps at Bokuto when he has to eat the team’s provided lunch, and not the lunch you make and pack for him.

He’s particularly cranky when his uniform was wrinkled on game day, and you weren’t there with your emergency Wrinkle-Release Spray

He doesn’t directly say ‘I miss you’ but you hear it in his words anyway.

When he complains about the hotel’s mattress and how it’s “nothing compared to our bed at home” you know that he feels your absence.

“The food here makes me want to gag, all I want is your tempura”

“My skin feels so raw from the scratchy towels; the towels you bought us feel much softer.”

“Babe, how’d you manage to make all my stuff fit in my luggage? I can’t pack it the way you do.”

Sakusa most likely won’t blow up your phone, but he always makes sure to send you a good morning and good night text

He doesn’t buy you flowers, but when he gets home, he hands you a large bag without saying anything.

“What’s all this?” you grunt, cause damn that bag was heavy.

But Sakusa was shrugged. “Souvenirs. I thought you’d like them.”

And you squeal in excitement, pulling him to sit down on the same couch that he’s been thinking of for weeks, a smile on his face as he watches you sift through all the little knick knacks and presents that reminded him of you.

Hinata

EXCITED BOY

He’s constantly texting you and checking in, even when he doesn’t have to

☀️Shoyo☀️(6:58am): We just got to the gym where they’re letting us practice!

☀️Shoyo☀️(7:01am): I’m about to go into the locker room and change now

☀️Shoyo☀️(7:05am): Whoops I think I made the wrong turn.

☀️Shoyo☀️(7:07am): Whoa, this gym is pretty big; I wonder what other sports they could use it for?

☀️Shoyo☀️(7:15am): Wait, I can’t find my way back

☀️Shoyo☀️(7:30am): Babe, help

He doesn’t facetime you like Bokuto, but he is blowing up your phone just the same.

He misses you of course, that’s a given, but to be honest he mostly does it because he doesn’t want YOU to miss HIM.

Maybe that’s the wrong way to put it; he wants you to miss him but he doesn’t want to ever make you feel lonely.

He knows that feeling so well :( he never wants to be the cause of your loneliness. And if he had to pick between being a persistent man or an aloof man, then Hinata will choose persistence five hundred times over.

Hinata has an incredible talent of being able to make you smile and laugh, even if it’s simply through a screen, from hundreds of miles away.

Even though his career and ever-changing schedule can make things a little extra challenging, when you see him play on TV, watch as the crowd cheers and hollers for Hinata, listen to the way the commentators describe his insane plays, and you realize you don’t mind having to share Hinata with the world

Because when he stares directly into the camera and smiling while he holds both hands over his heart, you know this gesture was meant only for you.

[hizashiiis]

Bakusquad + “Why are you awake” Part Two

PART ONE HERE

So here’s part two! Fun fact, the song Jirou plays you in her part is actually a song I wrote! I didn’t include any of the lyrics though because its lowkey really cheesy :/

I hope you like this! This one is for Sero, Mina, and Jirou.

Warnings: insomnia, depression kinda

Sero Hanta

- Sero is very much a hypocrite when it comes to getting enough sleep

- He’s constantly up at all hours, even sending you random texts if he can’t sleep

- But when you aren’t going to bed at a normal time?

- He’s so sad

- He looks like you kicked his puppy and then him in rapid succession. 

- It’s crazy because he seems to just instinctively know when you’re awake

- Like he bolts up in his bed all, “they ain’t in bed. I’m abt to beat some ass.”

- He’s never sure if he’s right though, so he texts you a meme he made specifically for you being up too late

- It’s probably really cheesy and outdated, but the effort is there

- If you respond to it (because you will) he knocks on the wall between your dorms and talks to you 

- Often, you both just stay up like that

Sero’s body is awake before his mind, moving him to sit up in bed before he can think. He was having a really intense dream; something about talking mice. He didn’t mind it, but he woke up as if he’d had a nightmare. 

Faintly, from the wall beside him, he can hear low music playing, but he can’t make out what song it is. It’s coming from your room, though, so he’s concerned. 

The sky outside is dark, clouds drifting across his windowed view of the moon. It must be pretty late; all the noise is gone, leaving nothing but static air, and the music. He leans over his bed to look at the time on his phone. It’s around 2 am. The song you’re playing ends, and he recognizes the next one. It’s on your sad playlist. 

He sends you the meme, as well as an invitation for a hug as soon as it’s morning. You respond almost instantly, assuring him that you’re fine, you just couldn’t sleep. But he knows you better than that. 

Knocking on the wall between you, he hears the music stop suddenly. He calls out to your wall. 

“Mi amor? What’s keeping you awake?” He’s met with silence for a moment before your shaky voice responds.

“I’m okay. I just kinda got hit with some sad, y’know?” He does know. He knows that this happens sometimes. It happens to him, too. But he hates hearing your voice sound so lost. You almost sound hopeless, and he can’t bear it. 

“I understand.” He places his hand up to the wall, wishing he could hold you. Unfortunately, you had both been told off by Iida for sleeping in each other’s rooms more than enough times lately, so he couldn’t just go see you. He opts instead for hugging a stuffed giraffe you had gotten him after the Sports Festival. 

“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?” He asks, stroking the giraffe’s head as if it’s your hair, not knowing that on the other side of the wall, you’re holding a stuffed lion the same way. 

“Distract me?” Your voice comes out only just loud enough for him to hear you, but he understands. He begins to tell you a story. He’s told it before. It’s about a great hero, one who fights crime valiantly, and his partner, also a fantastic hero. He ad-libs parts of it, making pretend villains say silly slogans, and recounting how the heroes save the day. 

As he reaches the end, he hears you giggle a bit. “Oh? Did it work? Are you smiling over there, my sweet?” He calls to you, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“A little bit.” You respond, playing with your stuffed animal. “If you keep talking, maybe I’ll even smile more.”

He laughs, eyes bleary with sleep, but happy to talk to you the whole night.

Mina Ashido

- Honestly, she’s no better than you about staying awake

- She tries to sleep, but her thoughts are always racing

- Sometimes it’s thoughts of you, sometimes of new things she wants to try in training, or things she wants to see if she can convince her friends to do

- But she wants you to get adequate rest, even if it’s hard for her to do the same

- She used to get told off for sneaking to your room every night, but then Momo and Iida saw how much better you were performing in school on the days after she’d been there, and they started letting it slide

- It’s nicer for her, too, because she has someone to ramble to as the two of you fall asleep

Mina skipped down the hallway toward your room. It was a bit past midnight, and usually, you would be asleep by this time. It was well past lights out, and classes had run long that day, not to mention the endless exams that were happening at UA right now. So when she reached your door, she was surprised to find you watching a movie on your phone instead of snoring. 

“Hey bug! Why are you still up, don’t you know what time it is?” She says, throwing a grin your way as she puts her blanket down next to you. 

You shrug, yawning. “I could ask you the same thing, love.” She pouts at that, tossing her arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

She watches you watching your show for a few minutes before saying anything. It looks good, she supposes, but she has a better idea of what to watch. “Scoot over.” She pushes you lightly, giggling as you scrunch to the side to give her more room. “Do you wanna watch something with me?” She asks, holding up her phone. 

You look at her for a moment. “That is what we are currently doing, is it not?” You hold up your phone in return, showing her the paused screen. 

“But I have a better movie!” She insists, unlocking her screen and shoving it above yours so that you can see her pick. She’s right, it is a better movie. You guys have watched the entire Studio Ghibli filmography, but even you know that her favorite, “When Marnie was There,” is the better option at this particular moment. 

You toss your phone to the side, pulling her in to lay next to you. “Fair enough, bubs, I guess yours is better.” You feign reluctance, watching her excitedly press play and tuck the blanket in around the both of you. Her arm curls tighter around your shoulders, and she giggles as the opening credits start. 

“Hey Minari?” You use her favorite nickname, looking at her through hooded, sleepy eyes. She hums in response. “Why is this one your favorite?”

Hearing the question, she pauses the movie, turning to look right at you. She’s quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. “I guess because they remind me of us! Like I’m Marnie, and you’re Anna, and we’re having this great adventure together!” You feel your face heat at her words, thinking about the movie more critically now. Mina continues, “It’s like…” she pauses, finding the right words. “Like Anna is learning how her friendship with Marnie can make her feel more right, as a person. And I feel like that about you!” 

You’re tearing up now, unsure how to respond. Mina is so many things, and being with you is that important to her? It’s a new feeling, but certainly a welcome one. You pull her down, giving her a kiss. And then another kiss. And one on her nose. 

“Press play, Mina.”

Kyoka Jirou

- Lol u think she sleeps?

- She does, but not at night

- Were it not for classes, Jirou would be essentially nocturnal

- So you try to remind her to go to sleep

- Sometimes you’ll walk past her dorm at night, and you hear her guitar, softly playing her favorite songs

- Before you got together, sometimes you would sit outside her door and listen to her play

- Not in a creepy way, there’s just a little common area right outside her room and you like took a book there, you weren’t like ooh it’s late i think i’ll sit outside someone’s room and listen to them

- You aren’t Mineta. 

- But anyway

- Now that you are together, Jirou thinks it’s really sweet that you listen to her play

- Sometimes she leaves her door cracked open so you can come in

It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the light is on in Jirou’s room. You had come out to go to the bathroom, but you noticed her guitar, and decided to stay. The soft strumming is pretty, and you’re glad to be one of the few people allowed to hear it. 

Opening Jirou’s door just a bit more, you nod toward her desk chair in a silent question. She nods, so you go sit down. 

She’s playing a song you don’t recognize, and the lyrics are sad. Even still, it’s beautiful, and your eyes seem to naturally close, taking in the melody of her voice. She used to tell you her voice wasn’t anything special, but she seems content now to let you listen. 

The guitar resonates with the last few chords, and the ending note is held for three beats. When she’s finished, Jirou opens her eyes and looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.

“It was beautiful. Did you write that?” You ask her, your hands fidgeting with the urge to hold her own. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

You don’t acknowledge the sad theme of the song. She’s told you before that sometimes sad songs are easier than happy ones. That the melody is clearer. You don’t mind. All her songs are beautiful, and they reflect her in them, and isn’t that what makes a piece of art?

“I have another one, if you’d like to hear it?” She looks nervous; something you never see on her.

“I’d love to!” Your exclamation seems to snap her out of the anxiety in her eyes, which narrow a little. 

“Just…” She starts, looking away from you to adjust the capo on her instrument. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Confused, you nod, and she starts playing. 

The song starts out with a few chords repeating in a loop, and then she begins to sing. The lyrics are confusing to you at first, and you still aren’t sure why she’s told you not to freak out. But then she gets to the chorus, and it begins to make more sense. 

Lyrics, in essence, are a poem, and this one is a love poem. Her thoughts, written out, are so sweet and loving, that you’re sure you don’t know what to think. She sings elegantly, like someone who’s never known how to dance, and yet is waltzing perfectly across a shining floor. 

She finishes the song with a declaration of loyalty, and you realize your eyes are watering. She looks at you, waiting for your thoughts. 

You say nothing. You don’t know how to say anything, so you stand, cross to her, and pull her into a hug. She’s not usually one for physical touch, but she holds you tightly. 

“It’s about me, right?” You laugh, leaving a kiss on her calloused fingers. She rolls her eyes. 

“Obviously.”

She smiles at you, pulling you to lay on her bed as she puts her guitar in its case, taking the capo off the strings. “You should sleep. It’s like, morning now.”

“You should too.” You retort, still holding her hand. 

“No.”

[induro-a]

𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍-𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒

[tolleraresubire]

“ i didn’t have a choice. ” you pick :P

Her eyes widened at the words leaving her Aunt's lips, she didn't have a choice? But Hope had always been taught that everyone always had a choice in everything. She didn't have to leave her, she most certainly didn't have to cuff her magic the way that she did. What was that going to teach the young swashbuckling Swan-Jones? "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬. 𝐈 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭!" The fury was building inside her, cheeks flushing red as it bubbled to the surface. "𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞..." and in typical teenager fashion, she cut below the belt, "𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞."

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 2

Shigaraki Birthday Celebration! 18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is marked fem cause Tomura is a little sexist and hates you cause you’re a woman, no pronouns, incel!shiggy, collage au/no quirks, tomura is an asshole, gratuitous swearing, like so much, shiggy has a dirty mouth, mentions of shigs being anxious, brief male masturbation, tags will be added for smut in the next two parts

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which studying is done, unwilling connections are made, and Tomura thinks about the way you smell a totally normal amount. 

AO3 mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg​ (just shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged!

Tomura hadn’t stopped staring at his phone since he left the apartment. It was second nature by now—head down at a nearly ninety degree angle, hoodie pulled up to hide hair he hadn’t bothered to comb in weeks, and phone out, held just far enough away that he could see the pavement behind the screen. 

He’d found that people tended to naturally avoid him this way and he didn’t have to risk accidentally making eye contact. It was still a bit nerve wracking to venture into buildings he didn’t expressly have to for classes, so he was still hesitant to make the voyage from his apartment to the library.  But he’d made the mistake of mentioning plans to his roommate and the bastard wouldn’t leave him alone about it afterwards until he was practically shoved out with the door locked behind him. 

He was half tempted to make up some excuse last minute and go hide out at the only cafe on campus he could tolerate, but Tomura knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Biting the bullet now would help to not prolong his suffering. 

Your text thread glared up at him in stark white on blue as he pushed past a crowd of students by the library entrance and flashed his ID to the attendant. 

Group Project Bitch:

— hey I got us a room on the third floor, all the way in the back

—text me when you’re here I’ll wave you in, it’s kinda hard to find T-T

                                                                                                     sounds good— 

He shot off a quick text to you that he was hoping on the elevator. The other two guys in the lift may have given him a dirty look for only going up to the third floor, but Tomura sure as hell wasn’t going to risk the physical exertion of stares when just the thought being stuck in a small room alone with you for god knows how long already had him sweating. 

When he stepped out, you were leaned against one of the 90s-green shelves, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. He panicked momentarily, thinking he’d have to get your attention cause just walking up without saying anything would be weird right? 

He wasn’t sure. 

He didn’t do shit like this. 

Thankfully, you looked up at the chime of the lift and waved him over. His red sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the linoleum floors and he already regretted choosing his tighter fitting pair of sweats. The tapered legs that hugged his ankles and thin calves rubbed against his skin and stung the raw patches. 

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you said softly and he nodded, following as you began to weave through the stacks. “Sorry it was short notice, graduation’s coming up so I'm swamped with meetings.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t have anything going on.” 

He cringed internally at the way his voice cracked, trying to keep the usual rasp to a minimum. His roommate said it was from the innumerable hours he spent shouting at his monitor or on discord, which was probably true but to you he was sure he just sounded like a fucking teenager. 

“Cool, I’ve been set up for awhile so feel free to move some stuff,” you talked a bit louder now that you’d both stepped into the study room and shut the door. 

Tomura looked around. You’d snagged one of the nicer ones at least, with the big monitors he could cast his screen onto and those comfy chairs he liked but could never beat anyone too on the lower floors. 

You were right, there was shit all over the big table at the center of the room. Notes and printed out readings with highlights galore and sticky notes littering the pages were scattered all over. What a show off. You probably tossed all this stuff out so he’d think you were actually intelligent or some shit. 

Kicking a pile off of the nearest plush armchair, Tomura took a seat and pulled his laptop out. There was a jack in the middle of the table and you plugged yours in to cast onto the big monitor. 

You made a fucking power point for him. 

This couldn’t be real. 

“So I know I ran some stuff by you in class but essentially I was thinking we make like a simple Twine type thing using the rhetorical argument Swift is making…” 

You started rambling again and Tomura almost immediately tuned you out. His eyes drifted between the rough outline you were flicking through on the board and the laptop you had your nose buried in. 

It was covered in stickers, pretty obviously stereotypical for someone as obsessed with being ‘cool’ as you clearly were. But as he scanned through the various old meme phrases and aesthetic shit, he caught a couple of game references he recognized and a panel cutout from one of his favorite manga. 

He almost fell into your trap for a moment, feeling a rush at the prospect of someone—much less a chick—being into his main hyperfixations. 

But it was quickly crushed under everything his years trolling subreddits had taught him. People like you didn’t actually have interests beyond the attention and dick it got them. Plus that manga was pretty popular anyway, you probably didn’t even read it, just thought the line was funny or made you sound quirky. That had to be why you felt the need to drop it in your first texts. 

“What do you think?” you asked, making good on your new habit of startling the hell out of him. 

Tomura blinked, gaze instinctively turning to you but the blatant way you stared made his mouth turn to sand paper, so he looked resolutely back at the color-coded bullet points on the screen. 

“Look’s fine,” he mumbled. 

The more he glanced over it, the more it actually did look fine. A bit more than fine, really, which pissed him off even more. The little choose-your-own debate style story was not a terrible way to make fucking Whatever Swift interesting and it kinda looked like you’d bothered to google some simple coding which gave him a better idea of what you were looking for. 

It was...good. 

And that so fucking annoying. 

Well, he wasn’t sure if annoying was the right word for it, but the proposal coupled with your apparent lack of disgust at working with him made his face hot and that only ever happened otherwise when his roommate left the dishes out for weeks or when some newb on his server fucked up their raids. 

Then, you had the audacity to plop down in the chair next to him and— 

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want,” you began, shuffling in the chair to cross your legs on the cushion, “but I was hoping you’d be willing to show me how you do some of the coding stuff? I tried on my own, but I have literally no clue what I’m doing.” 

He could smell you again, like the whole fucking health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. When he turned his head a bit to look at you around the curtain of his hair, you were crooked—back against the armrest and facing him. 

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, sounding a bit less rude than he would have liked to. 

You just fucking stared right at him though, didn’t wrinkle your nose at how greasy his roots were or how he was wearing the same hoodies as yesterday. 

“I’ve always been interested in it, but my program is kinda stressful and I don’t have much free time so I never learned,” you offered and for once Tomura found he didn’t feel his skin crawl under your unwavering gaze. 

The dry, cracked area around his eyes burned though as sweat beaded on his forehead and he quickly wiped at his face with a loose sweatshirt sleeve. The garment hung off his shoulders, bought a size too big that he never ended up growing into. 

“What’s your major?” 

He found the words slipped easily from him. It was the quintessential question you asked of anyone in college when you met, but he’d never been interested in the answer before. 

You babbled a bit about your specific area of study and your voice was surprisingly not as infuriating as he remembered it being before. It was softer, he thought, than when you were soapboxing in class about the sexist implications of old as fuck poetry—it had a less grating quality and was almost pleasing to the ear. 

Or Tomura would have said that if he thought you deserved the compliment. 

But, obviously you didn’t. 

So he didn’t. 

He just pretended to care about what you were saying and didn’t hang onto every word at all. Actually he was more enraptured in the way your lips moved when you talked. You used your hands a lot too, but his eyes were ensnared on the way your mouth quirked and dipped, at the occasional flash of your tongue between strong teeth. When he leaned in a bit, he could smell your breath too: fruity gum and the remnants of whatever you were always drinking in that loud as fuck cup. He wondered now what exactly it was, so he could buy it and get a better idea of what you mouth might taste—

Nope. 

No, see this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. How were you doing this to him? What a fucking slut. 

Tomura steeled his nerves as you started explaining the extracurriculars you did on the side. 

“My roommate freshman year actually started a gaming club and so I’ve gotten more into that over the years,” you explained, pointing at the stickers on your laptop case. 

“Are you talking about The League?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you’d heard of it,” you shrugged.  

He knew of the gaming club on campus. He’d thought about joining when he enrolled but the allure of anonymity online gaming provided was too strong. Plus his discord server didn’t have annoying weekly meetings. 

The thought of you, up late and illuminated by the blue light of a tv screen, tucked away in one of the basement rooms in the media building was...strange. It also prompted an array of new images—you in those fucking cat ear headsets, seated in his lap as he trashed you in Mario Kart which was even stranger. 

Tomura had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought. 

“Uh, we should probably work on this right?” he cringed at the way his voice cracked compared to your own, smooth tone. 

You should narrate those fucking sleepy time mediation things. His roommate used to hide wireless speakers in his room and blast those when Tomura stayed up too late. It was annoying as shit then, but if it was you talking, he probably wouldn’t have minded so much. 

Or no, no he would definitely mind. 

Yes. It would have been worse if anything. 

“Oh shit, you right. It’s been like two hours.” 

He glanced down at his laptop and saw that it had, indeed, been two hours since he got there. He’d willingly spoken to you for two goddamn hours. It felt like no time had passed at all, but the sun was definitely setting, the overhead fluorescent bulbs taking over as the main light source in the room. 

Weird. 

So you settled back in your chair, typing away like you always did, but the sound wasn’t nearly as frustrating as before. Occasionally, you’d glance over his shoulder and ask questions about what he was working on, but mostly the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. 

This pattern continued for the next few weeks. As the weather warmed, you began to show a bit more skin. He never worked up the nerve to comment on the thick expanse of bare thigh that tapered off nicely into your calf, or the curve of your arms not hidden behind knit sweaters—hell even your fucking shoulders were hard not to look at. 

Maybe all those high school dress codes weren’t actually so full of shit after all. Cause he was definitely distracted by the way your neck swooped into the exposed skin of your shoulder and down your back on more than one occasion.

Did all girls know that? Was it some kind of massive conspiracy to crumble the patriarchy or some crap to go flashing bare shoulders everywhere? 

Regardless if you really were trying to hypnotize him into liking you, Tomura stayed resolutely in his monochrome, long sleeved attire, and if you noticed the behavior you never said a word. 

Never said a word about his allergy ridden skin, peeling lips or scarred throat. Never commented on his terrible posture or said his eyes were creepy. Even when he’d occasionally toss a negative remark your way, you never retaliated maliciously. Just brushed him off with a jovial ‘don’t be a dick’ and a playful, but hard slap to his chest or the back of his head. 

The two of you always met in the same, secluded room on the third floor. You’d talk with him in class sometimes or shoot him texts about random bits of inspiration or a late night game memes, but for the most part, your conversations were confined to that room. He found he preferred the study room ‘you’ best. You weren’t as stiff. There was more of a solidity to you, like he’d seen when you told off that Kai bastard. 

It...grew on him. 

He was irrationally anxious that there would be a time when you couldn’t secure this particular room—with it’s big monitor and comfy chairs and less annoying ‘you’—but he’d been reassured after your third work session. 

Someone had knocked softly at the thick, wooden door and a head of wild, bright pink hair peaked around the crack. 

“Sup bro,” the intruder quipped, as they stepped fully into the room. 

“Hey, Spinner,” you mumbled back, looking up momentarily from the essay portion of your presentation before going back to typing. 

Spinner had seemed to notice him at that point and offered a small wave in his direction. “Oh hey, sorry, thought you were alone,” he said quickly. 

“Nah, this is Tomura,” you said, glancing up again and jerking your thumb in his direction. 

Tomura nodded and tugged at his hoodie strings to stop from scratching under the newcomer’s gaze. He’d gotten used to you, but other people still made him a bit nervous. 

“Nice to meet you,” Spinner had a nice smile, bright and flashy when he spoke. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, looking around the room. “You got the nice one, huh. How’d you manage that?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you half closed your laptop and stretched a bit. “Jin was working the front desk, so I’ve just been bribing him with vending machine snacks.” 

“He hasn’t gotten himself fired yet?” Spinner laughed incredulously, but not unkindly. 

“Surprisingly not, but he’s completely corrupt now,” you were picking at the cuticle of your thumb and Tomura fixated on the way the skin split off at the nail. Just like his. “A couple packs of chips and a Monster and I get the most bitchin study room whenever I want.” 

“Damn,” Spinner chuckled again and Tomura really wished that he’d leave already. He was beginning to feel himself fading into the upholstery as the conversation left him in the dust. The divergence of your attention away from him or the project was even more annoying that you were. “Well, are you coming to The League meeting tonight? We’re busting out a Smash tournament.” 

“That’s tonight?” you asked, eyes perking up but sliding subtly in Tomura’s direction. “Sorry, I think Tomura and I are gonna be working on this project for a while longer and I’m kinda burnt out. But next time, yeah?”

Spinner rolled his eyes but nodded and kicked off the wall. “That’s not very sexy of you,” he chided and waved a hand in parting. “Gonna work yourself directly into the fucking grave.” 

“Jokes on you, I welcome death.” 

You buried yourself in the screen again and Tomura actually felt a bit grateful for you ending the conversation before he got too painfully awkward. 

But Spinner stopped before he left, looking Tomura up and down from the frayed strings of his black hoodie to the tips of his worn red sneakers. 

“Nice to meet you, man,” he said with a wide grin. “Feel free to tag along next time if you want, we always need more players.” 

The door clicked softly shut behind him and Tomura relaxed back into the silence.

He did end up tagging along—though he spent most of the time hanging off your heels like a lost puppy—to the next meeting of your gaming club and the one after that. Frustratingly enough, he learned that your interests did also extend into skills as you almost bested him in a few rounds Smash. Your profile, lit only by the flashing screen lights, was even more striking outside of his imagined imitations. 

So much so that it found its way into his head late at night when he was too tired to log onto his server. So much so that it had his cock growing firm and tenting his grey sweats without even the visual aid of his go to porn clips. So much so that sometimes, he felt inclined to do something about the throbbing between his legs. So much so that he thought about the way you picked the skin by your fingers. How it looked like his. How your hand might feel like his but softer. Smoother around the edges. With your sweet voice whispering in his ear, making him whine and pant and spill white ropes of release onto his stomach. 

But it was only because you were hot. 

And you were practically begging for him to jack off to the thought of you with those outfits and liking all the shit he liked and noticing when he shrunk away from conversations or including him in them when he started to feel that awful sense of fading into the background. 

Yeah. 

Everybody jerks it sometimes to their group project partners if their ass is nice enough. 

Right?

[unknownwriting]

Summary- going on a date

Character(s)- Kaminari Denki, Kirishima Eijiro, Mina Ashido, Aizawa Shōta

Warnings- just so one comes for me, everyones aged up!!, besides that none :)

Notes- ahh look at me trying to expanding my fandoms

Kaminari Denki

Definitely an arcade date. A simple yet fun idea.

Of course when he invites you, it mostly as a joke. He’s not expecting you to actually answer. But when you did this man is like so excited. If he could he would’ve planned the date that day but of course he waits till the weekend.

It’s a casual date, nothing to fancy just the 2 of you enjoy the little things. It’s one of those dates that feel like a date yet at the same time doesn’t.

It’s like those dates y’all see in like those cheesy romance movies. It’s a very cute date 🥺💕

Of course y’all don’t spend the whole date at the arcade, it was just the first out of many spots. Y’all basically play till y’all can’t anymore then go out to eat.

Y’all end up chatting about anything and everything, whatever topic pops up yall talk about it. At one point you make him charge you phone, limited his ability to talk. But you end up talking the most anyways.

After y’all had eat and enjoyed a dessert or 2, the 2 of y’all go a goof off at some random park. Talking on the swings, climbing up the monkey bars, petting to local cats.

Over all the date was just a simple one but it was probably the best one Denki has ever had and will have.

Before the date, he knew you only as a classmate, not knowing the small things about you. After the date he learns and remembers all the little things about you.

Your favorite color, your dream pet, what you what to do as a side job, how you wanna help people. All the little things.

Denki felt so unbelievably happy when the date was over. He hasn’t be on many dates before more like none so going on a date with you, and it being an actual date made him so happy. Y’all are definitely gonna be going in more dates from now on

Kirishima Eijiro

Unlike Denki, dates with Kirishima take a bit more time to plan. Kirishima loves to go hiking, so why not go on a hiking date with him.

You honestly had never been on one so you have no idea what y’all would even do but you decided to go along with it. It something new for you to try and plus Kirishima seemed really happy when he was talking about it.

You clearly underestimate him and the date. By a lot. To start of with, y’all met up together just as the sun had reached over the horizon. It was to early.

2nd, he just had to pick the most ‘manliest’ trail. It was an gorgeous trail, don’t think it wasn’t. There were so many animals, birds, and beautiful flowers. But also bugs, and awkward wooden stairs and rocks, and a lot of walking. At that point you weren’t sure if this was a date or extra training.

However, you went along with it. Although it wasn’t your thing, it was nice change of pace and something else fun to try. The date wasn’t bad either, the two of y’all cracked jokes, chatted about the latest gossip at the school and about y’all’s works study, and just talking about random topics.

At one point y’all ended up holding hands and walking shoulder to shoulder, until however the 2 of y’all didn’t even know how or when y’all did it. The only time y’all noticed it was when Kirishima tried to head off into a bush to pee but next he knew you just continued to follow him. His flustered face was so unmanly.

After hours and hours of talking, sunset came and you noticed that y’all weren’t near the entrance of the trail. You brought your concern with him, but he simply smiled, grabbed you hand once again and asked, “Trust me. You’ll love it.”

There was no way you couldn’t trust that smile. So you continued to follow him until the sun began to dip under the horizon. And an hour before the light had disappeared completely, Kirishima brought you to a lovely field and a small picnic area

You were speechless, you were definitely not expecting that. It was so strange yet cute. So while you stood there, speechless, Kirishima began to unpack a bunch of snacks, of course ones that didn’t need to be referated. Once he set them all out, he looked back at you and smiled sheepishly, “Hehe, I hope you don’t mind a pinic date.” 

and of course you loved it. The date lasted on for about 2 more hours before yall decided to head back. Although the walk back was scary and surprising a lot shorter bc he apparently knew a short cut, it was still fun. The date was very new and nice, it was very different from any date you went on before. So this just might become a regular thing for you.

Mina Ashido 

a night out on the town all the way. Kinda like Kaminari but not at the same time...

Even though the date is technically at night. The 2 of y’all spend the day together anyways. Not going out and partying, but lazing around the house doing nothing. Mina liked to call it your girl time where y’all gossip, watch rom-coms, fantasize about the future, sending each other memes, simply stuff like that.

It wasn’t until around 5 when the date was finally starting. Y’all would get all dressed up, do each other’s make up, complement the hell out of each other, flirt, and try on like 5 different outfits before finally heading out.

The night started off relatively calm. The 2 of y’all would start the date off by going out to dinner at a somewhat fancy restaurant. Where y’all would continued to gossip and talk about random things.

After the dinner date the 2 of y’all would sneak off to an ice cream parlor and enjoy an ice or 2 together. Completely ruining y’all’s outfits. Besides the dinner date and the ice cream, everything after that wasn’t planned at all. It was all up to Mina where y’all would go.

To the club! Is the first place Mina’s gonna drag you too. It was popular club too where citizens, heroes and even villains would attend. The only rule that’s enforced at the clubs is: no sharing your real identity with a stranger. Besides that it’s a free for all.

Dancing, drinking, partying. They do it all, and y’all definitely do it all. Of course still having a sense of responsibility, y’all don’t drink too much but y’all definitely make that up on the dance floor.

While dancing you even ran into a few friends and decided to join their little party. Y’all did everything: drinking games, dance, encourage fights, ate till y’all couldn’t stand, threw it all up in the bathroom then did it again. You were pretty sure you saw some people from the league of villains but who cares. You were on a date not a night patrol.

Of course y’all aren’t super human well technically you are butttt so eventually even y’all had to call it quiets. It was around 3 am tho. It was a good thing that y’all didn’t have work in the morning. So the 2 of y’all said you goodbyes and slowly stumbled y’all’s way back to your apartment. Both of y’all took turned carrying each

As soon as y’all go home y’all had enough energy go pull off your outfits before crashing on the bed make up and all. The next morning, or next afternoon Mina was the first to wake up so she was quick to get dress and clean up before she began to make breakfast for you and a hot drink. When you woke up Mina was quick to check up on you and make sure you were feeling ok.

Once again y’all spent the day doing nothing and relaxing with each. And after a night like that, y’all couldn’t ask for more.

Aizawa Shōta

This man is like so romantic...when he wants to be lol. It really all just depends on his mood. Normally a date with him would be a very simple and easy going one.

Because he is a teacher, there’s a lot of time where’s he stuck grading papers and when that happens, He loves to cuddle up with you under a blanket and while you watch a movie or read or play on your phone he’ll grade the papers. Taking many breaks of course.

Most of the time his breaks will consist of him complaining about how one of his students didn’t get a question right or didn’t even answer it or just put something crazy. Most of the time he’s not to talkative but when it comes to school, especially his students, he won’t shut up. So you let him rant, you enjoy hearing this stories too anyways. His students are amazing.

Occasionally if it’s a simple worksheet with an answer sheet he made before hand, He’ll make you grade the papers while he sleeps or does something else. You love when this happens cause then your can give them a few extra points just bc.

Of course the date is not grading papers with him. The date comes after. Once all the papers are graded, the 2 of y’all would put in some relatively decent clothes and head out to the nearest coffee shop. A chance to get y’all out of the house and a nice breath of fresh air. Normally it’s your idea to go on the date but Aizawa always loves it.

Once y’all reach the cafe that’s when Aizawa would normally take over the date. He’ll either find something else he wants to do like see a movie or take a walk in the part the. Something he’ll just want to go back to the appointment and just sleep and relax.

It really doesn’t matter what y’all do. Aizawa’s the type of person to just savor the time spent with you. As long as he’s with you he doesn’t mind what y’all do. With thag in mind, he would prefer to just lay around the house and cuddle but he’s also open to your date ideas.

Like I said before Aizawa can be one hell of a charmer when it comes down to it. So when y’all go on actually dates. He knows exactly how to dress, act, and what do it. It’s almost like a completely different person but his lazy reaction remind you he’s still the same man you fell in love with.

Even the romantic dates are simple, going out to eat at a fancy restaurant and going out for a walk hand in hand. If y’all do something too exciting, he thinks it will take away from your beauty and distract him so that he’a not focused on you. So he keeps the dates simple so that he won’t have any distractions from you.

To others y’all’s dates might be too simple and boring, but y’all love them. The dates aren’t about seeing how much y’all could do together, it about spending time with each. So if all y’all do it go off to some cafe that’s around the block and talk, y’all are completely happy and satisfied.