#I do remember doing a high kick and people screamed

[crazycat010]

What am I even doing?!

Of Shadows and Stardust MASTERLIST

GOJO SATORU X READER part 2

Warnings: mentions of death, fatal car accident, alcohol abuse, slight child abuse, hitting, solitude and loneliness, reader being basically split in half between their normal version and sorcerer version, running away from home, (mostly from memories or brief references).

Word count= 3K+ words

Once again, you were woken up at the first lights by her grumbling. What was the matter with her? Ever since you’d encountered the Second-grade curses a few days ago she had been restless, muttering and blabbering mindlessly in your own mind, making it impossible to concentrate on anything and causing you the worst migraines ever.

“What the heck?! Just Shut up! I’m trying to get all the sleep I lost because of you!” You thought, yelling at her in her mind, frustrated.

“I know what we must do. I figured out a way to solve this problem!” She muttered.

“What problem? What are you talking about?” You started getting out of your bed and preparing a nice warm shower. Perhaps that would ease your senses and bring a little comfort in these painful days.

“You know what I’m referring to, ungrateful child!” She scoffed loudly. “The curses started arriving in masses at the Tokyo Central Elementary School just as you became a teacher there and started going there regularly. It’s a pattern that has been following you  ever since we came in contact…”

“What’s your point?” You asked, utterly confused and completely stressed out by the whole situation. Realization however, was starting to kick in, and soon sadness followed, filling your soul like water in an empty glass.

“You and I both know it’s not a coincidence. You can try to fake it as much as you want, but we’re the problem. We always have been. Wherever we go, we attract curses, like light attracts moths. We both have known for the longest time, but you’ve decided to ignore it. Now that we’ve gotten stronger, we need to take action and do something about it!” She explained. It made sense.

Besides, you’d always known, deep down, you just had never actually acknowledged it.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!” You screamed out loud. You already knew the answer, it was just to painful to admit. How were you supposed to live like that?

“We need to escape, find somewhere quiet and without any people around. We’re threats to all living life.”

“Talk for yourself.” You said, getting under the boiling hot jet of water, trying to suppress all the emotions that were hitting you all at once.

You thought about how you’d gotten to know her.

Turbato pacis, that’s how you referred to her. It meant ‘disturber of the peace’ in Latin, the Ancient language your mother had forced you to learn during high school.

You’d never given your mother enough credit for keeping your family together while working three jobs and taking care of both you and your father for god knows how long, not until it was too late and didn’t matter anymore, anyways.

Something about you had always been different. You remember how you used to win every single street fight you got your stinky ass into with the big mouth of yours. You always wanted to help the defenseless, those whom people chose to tear the eyes away from.That’s how your mother had raised you: a brave warrior that helped the poor, wether it was with food, sweet words, hugs, or punches. You felt kind of like Robin Hood, the main character of your favorite tale. Ever since you’d been first read the story to, you’d been amazed and greatly impressed by the grand gestures of such noble-hearted and gentle man, a kind soul who stole what others didn’t need and, instead of keeping the bounties for his own poor self, he gave them away to those in need, aiding his people in any way possible.

That’s what you dreamt of becoming, a beacon of light in the surrounding darkness, justice in a pool of misery and mischiefs. However, life had many surprises prepared for you, leading you through one bad situation after the other.

Even though you never lost, you always ended up patched up by your furious mother, mad at you for your reckless behavior. You couldn’t help but pick fights with people bigger and stronger than you, which did indeed mean their downfall, but also a broken nose for you, if not worse.

You’d always fought injustice, like your mother had wanted, until the most unjust event happened to the two of you.

You were chatting mindlessly, probably about school, an ice cream in one hand and the other holding your mother, who was skillfully managing to eat her own creamy delight while balancing in her arms three shopping bags and that small black full of scratches leathery backpack of hers, where she kept her most useful belongings, alongside some money and tissues for her daughter. Your father was right behind you, busy checking business stuff on his phone. You waited patiently at the crossroad before the traffic light became green, and then you started crossing the road, as you would normally do.

Nonetheless, it was no normal or ordinary day that one, on which your mother ad been able to convince you to go shopping with her, bribing you with food.

A drunk man had decided he wanted to go outside too that random Thursday evening, and thought, why not have a ride on his new car as well?

Too much liquor in his body, he hadn’t even noticed his pants were missing, so how could he have seen the traffic light turn red at the crossroad? The last thing he saw before ascending to the skies to his long-lost mother were two women, or at least one woman and one woman-to-be, crossing the same road as the one his was driving one, before all went down.

You didn’t have the time to realize it as your mother threw herself on your small figure in a useless attempt to keep you out of harm’s way. You should have died as well, that day, but fate seemed to have other things planned for you.

The car crash was chaotically, to say the least, and it ended with the new red car crashed on a nearby secular tree, two unrecognizable bodies shattered in the middle.

Nevertheless, one of them was the driver’s, as you’d somehow and jumped your way out of the crash.The aftermath was a mix of sorrow, grief and anger driven actions, compelled mostly by your father, who had watched the whole scene unfold right under his very nose, unable to think or react.

You didn’t understand how you’d saved yourself, too shocked from all the events to even try to think hat maybe, there was a connection behind all the mysterious stunts you always pulled whenever danger came your way.

That was until she actually came out, Y/n 2.0, another way you called her.

Out of everyone, understandably, your father was the most stressed out one. He moved frantically, spending his days pacing the living room with a never-ending bottle of beer in his left hand and a picture of your mother in his right one. He couldn’t rest, eat or drink, just like you. However, being the innocent child you were, you didn’t understand what was happening, simply wanting your dada back from crazy-land.

You tried to tell him to calm down, tried to get him to sit down and have dinner with you, but before you knew it, he had dropped the picture of your mother, taken a big gulp of that golden liquid, a small amount of which fell in small droplets on his chin, and swung his big calloused hand aimed for your cheek.

You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the hit, but it never came. Trembling, you opened your eyes to see your father’s eyes wide open in a mix of surprise and alcohol-driven rage and madness. While you covered your face with one hand, the other firmly gripped your father’s forearm, preventing a rather harsh hit.

Panicking, you quickly let go of him and ran upstairs to your bedroom, locking yourself inside and heading to the little sink to wash your face.

As you rinsed it thoroughly and then proceeded to dry it with a dirty cloth. As you did that, you couldn’t help but notice the reflection in the mirror. It was you, as usual, but the ‘other Y/n’ had black eyes, the darkest bag under her eyes and black and green tattoos, that resembled strange figures and terrorizing snakes. Her black hair had stripes of a flashy bright green in it and she wore a black long robe with green and silver accessories, very different from your worn out beige school uniform and plain black hair.

As if it couldn’t get any weirder, the reflection started talking to you.

“Hello Y/n.” It said, with the calmest tone.

You screeched in surprise, not knowing what to do, but still kept your eyes on the mirror, as you tried to learn more about her.

As you were about to discover, she’d always been a part of you, ever since you were born. However, until then, you’d always had control over her, or as she’d say, she kept quiet and didn’t interfere with your life. Nevertheless, she was still a part of your life, helping you during fights for example, but never completely taking over your body. When the incident with your mother had happened, she’s sensed your turmoil and knew something was about happen and she’d have to help you. That’s why she intervened during your fight with your father, and had now completely detached herself from you in order to protect you, leading to the creation of two Y/ns, as one could call it. She tried to reason with you that you couldn’t stay there anymore, and being the sweet and pure kid you were, you agreed, not taking the risk of hurting anybody.

That was the night you escaped, with a small backpack and a picture of your family in hand.

You didn’t know what you were to do, but perhaps that’s what made it so exciting, the thrill of a new adventure.

In time, you learned to co-exist with Enchantress, the name you usually used for her because of the power she held. She taught you all you knew about curses, and you tried to teach her about life in the real human world, whenever you could get her to listen. You became each other’s best friend, unable to rely on anybody else or trust the mere strangers that popped into your life.

After you’d gotten into a good university and found a way to live freely without the need of your father’s or any other tutor’s presence, Enchantress stepped aside, letting you live your life at its fullest. She still talked to you and entertained you with her snarky comments, but she’d actually intervened, until a few days ago…

You felt the water becoming cold and knew you had to get out of here, not only of the shower obviously, but you had to leave your job and go somewhere isolated and safe, for everybody’s sake.

That day, after spending some time in school and enjoying your last hours with your students, you resigned from your job without explanations, and started packing your bags as soon as you came back home.

What you didn’t expect that day, was a visitor, much less Gojo Satoru himself knocking at your door and seven p.m. in the evening.

“Helloooo…” He cheered, but frowned and gave you a confused look upon noticing the scattered bags all around your apartment.

“Are you moving out?” 

“Hello to you too Satoru.” You said calmly, going back to stack the brown boxes one on top of the other.

He kept his frown, urging you to answer his question.

“And yes, I am moving. I should be gone by tomorrow afternoon.”

He gave you a saddened look, and only after a while you understood its meaning.

“Oh gosh, I forgot to tell you! Sorry Gojo, ehm-I mean Satoru. I really wanted to call you but I didn’t have the time. It was a pretty fast decision, if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain to the white-haired man.

“Don’t worry, I figured you must’ve been busy. But why are you moving out? And where would you be going anyways? I thought you really liked it here…” He said, looking around your apartment.

He’d visited you a couple of days after you’d first met and you’d told him about how you’d just moved in a couple of months ago and really enjoyed your new home and job.

“I did, it’s just…” You stopped yourself before you could say anything else. You couldn’t lie to a sorcerer! He’d detect it right away and then you would be in big trouble. You had to avoid talking about the reason for which you were leaving. “It’s complicated, really. And besides, there is no real matter. It just feels like I don’t belong here…” That part was true. Ever since you’d run away from your home, you felt like  you didn’t fit in anywhere, and all the dangers you’d faced had only made you stronger and perhaps gave you some trust issues, and now you constantly felt alone and unwanted, though it was a minor thing, considering your real issues- Cough-cough-Enchantress-.

“What if you come teach at Jujutsu High?” He asked.

What?! He wasn’t possibly proposing to…huh?

“I mean, the kids already have teachers for sorcery stuff and everything, but there’s a lack of more…How can I say?…normal subjects? Like, they don’t know anything about Maths, History, literature, science or any of that stuff, but I know it could be really important if they don’t become actual Sorcerers or even if…I mean, they could really use a teacher like you.” He said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Surprisingly enough, you thought about it. You knew you had to get out of the city, but wherever you went, you had to get a job to survive, or you’d have to go back to the way you were as a runaway teenager, which were years you only wanted to forget about.

Besides, at the High School you’d be protected from curses and evil sorcerers and you wouldn’t bring more danger or trouble than the ones all of the students would ordinarily face.

“Don’t you dare!” Enchantress, ever the party crusher seethed. “We’ve already made this decision! We’re heading to a small village in the country where we won’t bring danger to ourselves or anybody else. Besides, you’d be living with sorcerer, which means they would find out about us sooner or later, whether you like it or not, and I’m 100% sure they won’t like us. I heard stories about people killed for this! For being like you! You can’t do this, the risk is too great, as you would put it, the cons are way more than the pros.” She tried to reason with you, though you tried to keep your mind open to every possibility.

You hadn’t made a final decision yet, so why not try?

Besides, Gojo seemed like a pretty chill guy, so after getting on friendly terms, you could tell him about your situation and you were sure that, with his kind nature, he’d help you (he did say he liked you, and you didn’t want to use his feelings against him, but, they sure would help!).

“I…have to think about it…” You told him, not giving a definite answer.

“I understand. I don’t want to put too much pressure on you, but I think you’d be a great fit for the kids and everyone there will love you. Besides, it’s a very friendly and chill environment, so you’d get used to it pretty quickly. In addition, you wouldn’t have to worry about food or a place to stay, since all of us teachers and students live in buildings on the High School grounds.”

You nodded in thought, but he began speaking once again: “Anyways, I got the feeling you’ll move out regardless, so why don’t you let me help you gather all these boxes and then we can go eat something?”

“Yeah sure, thanks.” You answered. A new feeling entered your heart, a feeling of fondness, happiness mixed with something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You had finally found a friend you could trust, so why not? Why not try to be part of something bigger, be part…of a family again.

You felt your eyes begin to tear up and, without any warning, you threw yourself in Gojo’s arms. He didn’t ask you anything or question your motives, keeping you latched onto him as tight as possible.

As soon as you felt better, you muttered with a cracked voice, in between soft sobs and hiccups: “Thank you, for everything.”

With a hopeful gleam in his eyes, he said, making circles on your back with his long fingers to soothe you and ease your nerves: “Does this mean you’ll come teach at my school?”

You simply nodded, your mind (mostly Enchantress though) screaming at you to not do it, but for once, you didn’t listen to her. For the first time in a very long time, you followed your heart, that pleaded you for a chance to be part of a family that truly loved you, regardless of who you were or what you did. You were finally free, and it felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders as you detached yourself from Gojo, who stood in front of you with that recognizable beam of joy in his eyes. It reminded you that you weren’t in this alone, and even thought you’d just met him, he would help you throughout every step of your journey, your trustworthy friend. On this journey, you’d probably make mistakes and things would probably go wrong many times, but that didn’t matter. For the first time, you thought about what you wanted, without over caring about the consequences of your choices on other people: it was your life dammit!

Heart full of hope and joy, you felt ready ready to start this new unexpected chapter of your life!

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it. You're welcome to come check out my account and my other posts and/or make requests :) (MASTERLIST) Do NOT plagiarize this or any of my content.

Love you guys! See you soon!😘

Written by crazycat010 © 2025 crazycat010

[suuuupernovaaa]

what if

summary: joel lives and is HAPPY damnit

warnings: just watched ep2 (&3)and im so unbelievably sad and mad so im making a happy ending to cope - smut, 18+, FMC in her 30s, dirty joel, a hot gf who GETS THERE IN TIME

MASTERLIST

Hand on the doorknob, Ellie looks back to you, and you shake your head. Not yet, you want to tell her. Just listen. Just be quiet and assess what’s happening in the room.

You hear a shout inside, and you know it’s him. You know his voice as well as you know your own.

There’s multiple other voices, male and female, impossible to say how many are in there. Joel shouts again, and your body tenses up, your stomach churning.

While she turns the door knob, you press your back against the door, out of sight.

It’s a mess of action once she opens the door. Her gun fires, but it takes only moments before two men are on her, pinning her to the floor, though she does get a good swipe with her knife at one before she goes down.

You peer around the corner, just for a whisper, to take in the scene. Joel, with a bloody knee. A girl before him, hair braided, holding a golf club.

Two men holding Ellie down. At least two other women in the room, and Dina, on the floor. You don’t know from the doorway if she’s breathing or not.

They don’t know you’re there. They’re too stupid to have checked. So, you enter.

You fire a shot, straight through the neck of one of the men holding Ellie down, and the other falls away.

She’s up then, and fast, her gun back in her hand, or maybe it’s someone else’s gun. There’s screaming, so much screaming, but you can’t hear it. You can’t hear anything besides Joel yelling your names. His woman. His daughter.

Ellie’s shot two more, they’re on the floor, both men.

Two women in the room - one bald and one with curly hair - back away, their arms up, their weapons on the floor, Ellie aimed at them.

That leaves the golfer. You turn to her, weapon raised, and she steps closer to Joel.

“Not another fucking step,” you whisper, finger on the trigger. “I will blow your head off.”

She has the nerve to look angry instead of scared, but she’s smart enough to drop the golf club. You kick it away, never taking your eyes off her.

“Who are you? What the fuck are you doing?”

Her lips are pursed, her eyes red with tears and rage. She looks so normal, someone you wouldn’t recognize or remember.

“Joel?” you ask.

“I’m okay. I… killed her dad.”

“Salt Lake?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You fire. One bullet, to her heart. She drops down, and you step over her to Joel.

TWO MONTHS LATER

The ground is thawed out enough for burials to take place now. They’re burying dozens of dead. The wall is secured again, but people stare at it warily now.

They’ve seen it come down. They wonder if it will happen again.

You wake up in the middle of the night, when the moon is still high, with a scream in your throat and a sheen of sweat covering your body.

“Baby, baby,” Joel is whispering next to you. You sit up, heart pounding. Joel reaches to his side of the bed for the water he keeps on his night stand, and hands it to you. You take a long drink, blinking the nightmare away.

“I’m here. I’m alive,” he reminds you.

The what if disturbs you sometimes. What if you and Ellie had been 5 minutes later. What if you had not come at all. What if, what if, what if Joel was dead.

He takes the empty water glass from your hands, and you’re on him when he turns back to you, kissing him with all the desperation you feel whenever you think of those what if’s.

What if the best thing you’d ever had was taken from you? What if Ellie’s dad had died before they could reconcile? What if, what if, what if.

“I’m right here, baby, I’m okay,” Joel mutters against your lips, and you’re pushing him down onto his back, climbing on top of him.

“I need to feel you, Joel,” you say desperately. “I need to feel that you’re here.”

His hands run up your back, under your tank top, his calloused hands on your hot skin, and you grind into him, making him moan.

“Whatever you need, sweetheart,” he says, and you reach down for him. He’s hard, always so hard for you, and you can feel you’re dripping wet, desperate to be filled by him.

It takes no time to remove your clothes, and you run your wet cunt up and down his hard length.

“God, Joel,” you moan, kissing his neck as he squeezes your ass.

“I’m here, baby,” he breathes, and slides into you.

It feels so full, so real, so fucking good. You place your hands on his chest, and look down at him as you begin to move, up and down. He never closes his eyes, always stares at you, always watches you when you ride him like this.

His fingers find your clit, moving over it expertly, and you cry out.

“Take what you need, baby,” he says, his voice dripping with need. “Take whatever you need.”

You just need him, to be sure he’s real and here with you. To feel him pulsing inside you, to bring you coffee in the morning, to be grumpy with you when he’s sore or tired. You just need Joel.

He brings you to an orgasm that makes you see stars, and finds his own release just seconds after, and you collapse on his chest.

He holds you then, tracing patterns on your bare back, both of you breathing so heavily with your eyes closed.

The what ifs always disappear in these moments when you are so connected to Joel. He’s here. He’s real. He’s not leaving you.

You won’t let anyone take him.

[uniquexusposts]

But I am Lando Norris | L. Norris

Summary: Lando Norris went to a random concert and ended up seeing his childhood neighbour on stage. What would he do to see her again after all those years? Words: 2.619 A/n: I got the inspiration after seeing Tom Odell and Billie Eilish at their concert :)

The venue was filled with many people. A lot of people. Something Lando hadn’t really expected, for some reason, but it was very real. 20.000 people in this stadium. All for Your artist name (Y/a/n). Everything in the stadium was louder than expected. 

It wasn’t chaotic, not yet, but there was a humming with that kind of pre-show tension that made everyone talk louder than usual, laugh sharper, sing along with the background music, scroll their phones more nervously, as if trying to pass the time before something important dropped. And to many, something important would happen. The opening act had just finished.

Lando tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and scanned the crowd beneath and next to him, from where he stood near the VIP lounge entrance. His friends had disappeared a few minutes ago, getting drinks or merch or whatever else people would do before a show like this. He had said he would wait here. He didn’t mind it. 

He wasn’t even really sure why he had said yes to coming. His friend had offered the spare ticket with zero pressure, and he had said ‘why not’ like it meant nothing. He hadn’t expected anything, they said it was just a show of an artist, just music, good music, and maybe some songs he would vaguely recognise. 

And then he had seen the name on the poster when arriving. 

Y/a/n. Just that. Stylised. Sharp. Backlit in white. 

He remembered seeing it and pausing, only for a second. Enough to think, Huh. That’s wild. Because even if she went by something different now, even if her look had changed, he knew who she was.

They had grown up on the same street. Played in the same games with the same kids outside. Played football, hide and seek, ring and run. Things kids would do when playing outside. They had never been close, just part of the blut of childhood. And then one day, after going to high school, the entire group stopped meeting up. 

Lando exhaled slowly and glanced over the crowd. Y/a/n had a massive fanbase, she had so many hits, the tickets to her tour were sold out quickly. People would camp a week before her show to get the best seats. People were standing outside without a ticket, hoping someone would give up a ticket to still give them a chance to see Y/a/n. 

He ran a hand through his hair, then followed the others inside. They took a seat on their designated seats. 

Max nudged him. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”

“I’m not,” Lando said, almost absently. “She just… grew up in my neighbourhood.”

Max blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. We used to play outside with the same group of kids.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “That’s it.”

And then the lights went out.

A breathless silence fell like a wave, followed by a sudden scream from the crowd. Somewhere beneath it all, a low, pulsing synth began to rise, slow, haunting, magnetic. Lando sat up straighter. He hadn’t expected much. But the moment the music hit, the first note, the sudden bloom of lights, something shifted.

The screen behind the stage flickered to life, abstract visuals in grayscale, like static breaking into water, and the bass deepened, vibrating in Lando’s chest. Then, through the smoke and fractured light, she appeared.

Y/a/n. 

Y/n L/n from house number 47. 

It wasn’t just the way she stood there, still, centred, not saying a word, but the way the entire arena reacted on her presence. She wore something simple, red, almost careless, yet very stylish, but held herself like gravity had shifted in her favour. The crowd roared. She didn’t flinch.

Lando forgot to blink.

It was her. Of course it was her, her voice was on every radio, her face was on every screen. But this was different. This was now. And the shy girl, who used to kick gravel down their street had turned into a phenomenon.

And when she began to sing, the crowd was screaming the lyrics along. They knew every single word. She moved energetically along the stage, waved every now and then to the crowd. It was like a bomb with energy exploded in the stadium. 

Lando didn’t hear the lyrics.

He only watched her. The way she moved with purpose but without effort. The way the crowd swayed like she was pulling every string.

His friends were cheering. Someone bumped into his arm. But Lando didn’t move. He wasn’t starstruck, it wasn’t that. He just suddenly couldn’t believe that someone like her had been standing five feet away from him all those summers ago, barefoot and shy and loud and ordinary.

And now?

Now she looked like a storm that had learned how to sing.

-

The crowd screamed, clapped, their cheers nearly drowning out the music when Y/a/n walked around the stage to wave at her crowd for the last time. Lando stood, clapping along, but it was automatic. He didn’t feel the rush of excitement everyone else was experiencing. He was still lost in the haze of that last moment.

His mind was still back at the moment she had stepped on stage, her presence a magnet. His heart wasn’t pounding, it wasn’t nerves, but something deeper, quieter. A magnetic pull he couldn’t explain.

Max slapped him on the back. “She was incredible, huh?”

Lando nodded, eyes still on the stage as the lights began to fade, her presence fading away as she got off the stage. “Yeah. Incredible.” His words felt empty compared to what he was actually feeling, but he couldn’t find the right ones. Incredible didn’t even begin to cover it.

The crowd slowly began to spill out of the stands, but Lando wasn’t moving. His friends were already heading toward the exit, chatting about the encore and how they could grab drinks after. But Lando’s feet stayed planted.

How could she be that powerful?

He scanned the stage one last time, searching for any sign of her, his heart still racing despite the calm exterior. There was a stir in the air, a buzz of people rushing behind the scenes, a mix of crew, security, and the last few fans who were hoping for a glimpse.

He didn’t think, he just acted.

Lando got up and he walked towards one of the doors that said ‘backstage, staff only’. He could hear the excitement of all the fans, many were screaming, crying and almost hyperventilating. Some recognised him, but they were still processing the moments they had with their favourite artist. His pulse was fast, not from adrenaline but something else entirely, something raw and uncertain. He couldn’t explain it, but the need to see her, just for a second, had overtaken him.

By the time he reached the backstage entrance, a security guard stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Can I help you?” the guard asked, arms crossed, his gaze unimpressed.

Lando swallowed, trying to push away the uncertainty that suddenly hit him. “I… I just need to talk to her. Y/n. Is she still here?”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “You a friend?”

Lando hesitated for a beat too long, the weight of his own words feeling heavier now. “Yeah. I grew up with her. We-”

The guard didn’t even let him finish. “And I grew up with the King. You can turn around and go home.”

Lando bit back a frustrated sigh. He glanced at the exit, hoping for a glimpse. But he knew that wasn’t enough. He wasn’t going to leave this night like that. Not after what he had just seen. “Do you have any idea when she’ll be available?” he asked, his voice steady but urgent now. “I don’t want to take up much time. Just a quick conversation.”

The guard looked him over again, as if debating whether or not he should let him through. He squinted his eyes. “You know, mate, we can do it the friendly way or the difficult way. There’s a reason why I am here. And you should know all about it. We can’t give everybody access to their favourite person. You would not like it too.��� 

“No, I fully understand,” Lando sighed. He couldn’t leave, not yet. He had to see her again. “But how can I see her? This is personal. And as you said, I know all about it. So why would I disturb her for no reason?”

The guard didn’t budge, still eyeing him with skepticism. The silence between them stretched for a moment, the background noise of the crowd's excitement humming in the distance. Lando could feel his patience wearing thin, but he knew he had to stay calm. He couldn't risk losing his chance.

Finally, the guard spoke again, his voice softer, though still guarded. “Alright, mate. Here’s the deal. She’s not going to have time for some random fan to chat her up after the show, even if you used to play football with her as a kid-“

“But I am Lando Norris,” Lando said, throwing out a card he hated. 

“And I am Leo Samson, nice to meet you. I can’t make exceptions. Stop the debate, it’s not going to happen-“

“But I’m not a random fan,” Lando cut in, sharply but not unkind. “I’m not trying to take a picture or get an autograph. I’m not even here for her music, well, I am now, I guess. But I didn’t come here because she’s famous.”

The guard’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I came here because I recognised the name on the poster,” Lando continued. “Because I remember her before all of this. Before the crowds and the lights and the sold-out stadiums. I just... I saw her tonight and I remembered who she was. And she probably doesn’t even remember me, but I would hate myself if I didn’t try to say hi. That’s it.” He let the silence settle again. “I’m not trying to cross any lines,” he added quietly. “But if I walked away right now, I think I would regret it. For a long time.”

The guard studied him. Really studied him. Then finally, he huffed a breath through his nose and reached for his microphone that was connected to his transceiver. “I’ve got Lando Norris coming through for Y/n L/n. It’s alright.” He stepped aside and opened the door. “Don’t do weird things, mate. I will find you.”

A relieved smile came on Lando’s face. “I will, thanks.” 

“Someone will bring you to her.”  

Lando gave the guard a quick, grateful nod, then stepped through the doorway, the heavy sound of the door closing behind him like a shift in atmosphere. The hallway he entered was quieter than the rest of the venue, cooler, dimmer, like the pulse of the show had finally exhaled back here.

Someone, one of the backstage crew, was already waiting. She didn’t ask questions, just gave him a glance, then motioned with her head for him to follow. They walked down a corridor lined with industrial pipes and faded posters from past shows. He could still hear the crowd outside, but it was muted now, distant. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say when he saw her. He wasn’t even sure she would want to see him. But the idea of not trying had been worse.

He turned the corner, and there she was.

Y/n was walking down the hall toward him, alone, her hair damp from the show, her outfit stuck to her skin due to the sweat. Her head was down, scrolling her phone. She looked so normal like this. So real. The stadium version of her was still echoing in his mind, but this, this was the part he had been desperate to see.

She looked up.

Stopped.

He froze too.

“…Lando?”

Her voice was cautious, halfway between recognition and disbelief.

He exhaled a laugh, barely a breath. “Hey.”

Y/n blinked like she was trying to make sense of him standing there. “What are you… how did you..?”

“I saw your name on the poster,” he said. “Didn’t believe it at first. Then I saw you tonight and I-” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly unsure of everything he had rehearsed in his head. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”

She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him. Really looked.

He stepped closer, slowly, not wanting to spook her, not wanting to mess it up. “You probably don’t remember me.”

Her brows rose. “Of course I remember you. You’re the reason I almost broke my arm falling out of the neighbour’s tree. And the reason I never touched Capri-Sun again.”

He laughed, a little dazed. “You threw it at my head. Deserved, for the record.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and for a second, the years between them shrank. “I didn’t know you were into concerts,” she said.

“I’m not, really.” He shrugged. “But apparently I’m into you.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, a quiet spark lighting behind them.

Lando cleared his throat, suddenly nervous again. “I just… I didn’t want this to be one of those things where I remembered someone forever and never told them they meant something to me. Even if you didn’t remember me.”

Y/n looked at him, soft now. “Well… I do.”

They stood in the hallway, just looking at each other, while the world outside buzzed and pulsed with the afterglow of her performance.

Lando let out a breath, eyes still on her like she might disappear if he blinked. “I don’t even know where to start,” he said, a little breathless. “You were… insane tonight. In the best way. Like… I don’t think I’ve ever been in a crowd that loud before. And I’ve stood on podiums, but this? You had everyone wrapped around your finger.”

Y/n flushed slightly, the way an older neighbour made a comment about them playing on the road. “I mean, F1 podiums are something different, huh?” She smiled. “And I mean, it’s kind of surreal, still. Even after all this time.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Lando said. “You’re meant for this. I don’t know how I didn’t see it back then. You were always singing, always messing around with lyrics or humming something under your breath. I guess I just thought everyone had something like that.”

She smiled again, the kind of smile that carried a hundred memories. “Most people grow out of it.”

“But you didn’t.” His voice was quiet now, sincere. “You built a world out of it.”

Y/n looked down at her hands for a second. “It wasn’t easy. Still isn’t.”

“I can imagine,” Lando said. “But tonight… God, Y/n, you were like this force. You had everyone screaming one minute, dead silent the next. It was electric.”

Y/n’s smile turned shy, like she didn’t know what to do with the praise. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.”

Lando shook his head. “I’m not saying this as the Lando Norris, if you mean it like that. I’m saying it as some kid who used to race you down the street for ice cream and lost every time. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

The silence between them filled with warmth, a fragile but growing sense of something shifting.

“You always were terrible at running,” she murmured.

“And apparently, really good at recognising stars before they go supernova.”

That made her laugh. Really laugh. And Lando swore it sounded just like it used to.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[missmadella]

His Jacket, His Girl, His Forever (Mikey x Reader)

Summary: It started with a game. Just you and Emma rating the boys of Toman during a shrine meeting, giggling about who’s hottest and who gives the best hugs. You didn’t expect Mikey to overhear. And you definitely didn’t expect him to throw his jacket over your shoulders like a claim of territory.

Words: 12280

Warnings: Soft possessiveness, clingy Mikey, a few kisses that might steal your heart, and Emma being the best wingwoman.

You met Mikey because he stole your sandwich.

Not in a cool, movie-style theft where your eyes locked across a bustling convenience store or something. No. He just walked up, took one look at your lunch, and said:

"That looks better than mine."

Then he picked it up and took a bite.

It was a Tuesday.

You blinked at him, absolutely stunned. “Excuse me?”

He blinked back, still chewing. “You gonna eat the rest?”

You were standing outside the corner store you always stopped at after class. You didn’t know who he was — not yet — just that he was barefoot for some reason and wearing a school uniform that didn’t match any of the local schools. His face was too pretty for his attitude.

You stared at him. “Did you just rob me?”

Mikey grinned. “Technically, no. You’re still holding it.”

You looked down at your half-eaten sandwich. Then back at him.

“…Are you high?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully, hands on his hips like he’d done nothing wrong. “Just hungry.”

You could’ve slapped him. You really could have. But then he tilted his head, sunlight hitting his eyes just right, and he smiled like someone who’d gotten away with worse.

“…You’re insane,” you muttered.

He beamed. “You’re fun. I’m Mikey.”

You didn’t give him your name. Not at first. But that didn’t stop him from showing up the next day.

And the next.

Turns out, Mikey was a bit of a legend — whether you wanted to hear it or not.

“Manjiro Sano,” Emma said when you finally brought it up. “Leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang.”

You nearly dropped your drink. “That’s Mikey?!”

She gave you a look. “You’ve been hanging out with him for two weeks and didn’t know?”

“To be fair,” you said, thinking of how he kept showing up barefoot to random convenience stores, “he doesn’t exactly scream ‘dangerous gang leader.’”

Emma raised a brow. “Tell that to the people he’s kicked unconscious.”

“…Right.”

But it was too late by then. You’d already kind of liked him.

Because Mikey wasn’t what you expected. Sure, he was unpredictable. Occasionally terrifying. Once made direct eye contact with you while eating an entire chocolate bar without chewing.

But he also made you laugh — a lot. He had the worst jokes. The best timing. He asked questions no one else thought to ask, like:

“Do you think ghosts get bored of haunting the same place?”

Or, your personal favorite:

“If I name a goldfish ‘Shinichiro,’ is that disrespectful or kind of sweet?”

Sometimes he said nothing at all. Just showed up, walked beside you, and shared whatever snack he was carrying — even if it was only one bite. (Sometimes especially if it was only one bite.)

And over time, you noticed things.

Like how he always waited for everyone else to eat before he touched his food. Or how his eyes drifted toward the sky when the conversation got too serious, like he was trying not to remember something.

He was strange. And reckless. And a little broken.

But he made you feel seen. And more importantly — he made you feel safe.

You didn’t know when you started holding his hand without thinking. Or when he stopped pretending you were just a friend.

But one night, when you handed him a sandwich without saying anything, he looked at it, then at you, and smiled that same dumb smile from the first day.

“…You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” you said, nudging him in the ribs. “But if you steal mine again, I’m breaking your legs.”

Mikey laughed — a real, unfiltered laugh — and leaned in close.

“Too late,” he whispered, stealing a bite anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been a few weeks since Mikey had started hanging around you, and things between the two of you had definitely shifted. What started as random encounters — him stealing your food, offering random deep (and often nonsensical) questions, or showing up when you least expected it — turned into something more natural. He’d walk you home, sit next to you at the corner store, and always, always drag you to random places just because he felt like it.

But today, everything changed.

You were walking out of school, talking with Emma about the usual nonsense, when you noticed a guy from your class standing awkwardly near the gate. He was fiddling with his sleeves and looking like he was trying to work up the courage to speak.

You barely had time to process when he finally blurted out, “Hey, uh... I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Would you maybe... wanna go get coffee sometime?”

You blinked. “Um, sure...”

He grinned like he’d just won a prize. “Awesome! How about tomorrow?”

Before you could respond, the sound of roaring engines interrupted the moment. You turned, and there he was — Mikey, effortlessly gliding in on his bike, the wind ruffling his already messy hair as he slowed down in front of you. His eyes locked onto the guy immediately.

“Hey,” Mikey called out, his tone lazy but with a hard edge. The guy visibly tensed.

You watched in mild confusion as Mikey hopped off his bike, walked up to you, and stood way too close for comfort — his shoulder brushing yours like he owned the space between you. “You talkin’ to my girl?” he asked, his eyes flashing toward the guy with that signature smug smile.

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Mikey’s sudden arrival and the intense, almost possessive vibe radiating off him. “Uh, I—”

“No need to answer,” Mikey cut him off, already turning to you with a grin. “I’ll take it from here, yeah?”

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the situation. “Mikey, what are you doing?”

“Claiming what’s mine.” He winked at you, hands sliding into his pockets. “I’m picking you up every day now from today, by the way. It’s a Mikey thing.”

The guy looked between you two, clearly out of his depth, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, okay, well... I guess I’ll... see you around?”

You sighed, stepping back as Mikey leaned down, resting his chin on your shoulder like he was too comfortable. “Nope,” Mikey called after the guy, giving him a half-hearted wave before turning his attention back to you. “Now, where were we?”

You were still caught off guard. “What just happened?”

Mikey let out a lazy laugh and nudged your shoulder with his. “Nothing much. Just making sure no one else thinks they can steal you away.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You’re mine.”

“Wait, really?” You were still trying to catch up, blinking at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You were already mine the second you handed me your sandwich. Don’t act like you didn’t know.” He grinned at you. “So... how about it? I’ll walk you home, and then I can take you somewhere nice.”

You tried to suppress your smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it.”

With that, Mikey draped his arm around you and practically dragged you off, leaving the guy standing there, completely forgotten.

And from that day on, you had Mikey’s attention — a lot of it. In his own unique, clingy way, he was all yours.

___________________________________________________________________________

It was almost sunset when the low rumble of engines echoed through the quiet neighborhood, signaling the approach of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

You were already at Musashi Shrine, standing just off the path with Emma. The air smelled like burnt gasoline and cedarwood. Golden light filtered through the trees, catching on the backs of the approaching riders like something out of a movie.

“Look at them,” Emma said with a smirk, nudging your shoulder. “All dramatic and cool.”

“They’re just boys in matching jackets,” you replied, but even you knew it wasn’t true. There was something magnetic about the way they moved together — a reckless kind of unity.

The boys began filing up the steps toward the meeting spot, lining up in their usual formation. You saw Baji throw a punch at someone for a reason only he understood, and Mitsuya adjusting someone’s collar with tired precision.

And then — like clockwork — he found you.

Mikey didn’t walk. He drifted. One second, he was in front of the captains; the next, he was beside you, arms lazily draped over your shoulders like he was trying to become part of your outfit.

“There you are,” he said, like you were the one who’d been missing.

You blinked. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“I know.” He leaned closer, tugging you back a step until your back bumped his chest. “But it feels longer when I’m not touching you.”

Emma made a choking noise beside you. “Oh my god.”

You ignored her and tilted your head. “Mikey—”

“Manjiro,” he corrected softly, so close to your ear it sent a little shiver down your neck.

You turned to glance at him, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone. His eyes were half-lidded, that familiar sleepy look — but there was a flicker of something more focused underneath.

“…Manjiro,” you said carefully, testing the sound of it.

His smirk deepened.

Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed a quick, stupidly soft kiss to your lips — right there in front of the whole damn world.

Not rough. Not teasing. Just gentle, quick, and unmistakably his.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He pulled back barely an inch, still close enough that his forehead nearly touched yours. “That’s better,” he murmured.

Emma wheezed. “I’m right here, you two!”

You shoved at his chest, your face suddenly way too warm. “Seriously?! Right before your big gangster meeting?!”

Mikey grinned. “Gives me good luck.”

“You’re gonna make them think I’m distracting you.”

“You are distracting,” he said, absolutely unbothered.

“Manjiro—!”

He kissed your cheek this time, slow and lingering. “Mmh. Say it again.”

“Stop being weird!” you hissed, trying to push him off — but he just hung on tighter, like a very smug, very clingy sloth.

“I like when you call me that,” he said, finally loosening his grip. “Only you, though. Everyone else sounds like a teacher.”

He finally stepped back, his fingers trailing from your hand like he didn’t quite want to let go yet. “Stay where I can see you, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why? Gonna get jealous if someone makes eye contact with me?”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked toward the captains, completely casual — as if he hadn’t just publicly kissed his girlfriend like it was a holy ritual.

Emma leaned in with wide eyes. “So. How does it feel being claimed like territory?”

You smacked her arm. “Shut up.”

__________________________________________________________________________

The sun was starting to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows over the shrine grounds as the Tokyo Manji Gang settled into their usual positions. Mikey, ever the casual leader, was already at the center, chatting with Draken and the other captains. The air around them was tense, full of gang business that you really didn’t want to hear about.

You and Emma were sitting off to the side, legs dangling from the stone platform as you watched the boys talk shop. You could barely make out the words — something about territory and rival gangs — but honestly, the topic wasn’t new. It was the same stuff they always talked about.

Mikey, however, had a different agenda.

You were scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself, when you felt the familiar weight of his jacket being draped over your shoulders. You froze, glancing up just in time to see him flash a lazy grin at you from across the group.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, blinking at him.

“Making sure everyone knows you’re taken,” Mikey replied casually, shoving his hands into his pockets as he leaned against a tree. “Don’t want anyone getting any ideas.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Mikey’s “possessive” side had always been cheeky, but something about his calm expression and the weight of his jacket made it feel more real this time.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He winked. “What? You’re my girl. I gotta make sure they all know.”

Emma, who was sitting next to you, let out a dramatic sigh. “Mikey’s so whipped. It’s kind of adorable.”

“Emma,” you whispered, nudging her with your elbow, but she was already grinning from ear to ear.

Mikey overheard and grinned back at her, giving a half-shrug. “I’m not whipped. I’m just... protective.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Mikey was unpredictable, a wild mix of playful and possessive, but you liked it. You liked him.

As the conversation droned on, you felt your attention starting to wander. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Toman’s plans, but right now, it was just a bunch of boys talking in circles about turf wars and rival gangs. You glanced at Emma, who was already bored out of her mind.

 “What do you think?” you whispered. “Want to play the game again?”

Emma grinned mischievously. “I’m so in. But let’s make it more interesting.”

You glanced at Mikey, who was still fully engaged in the meeting, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on Baji as he ranted about something. He didn’t notice the playful glint in your eye. Perfect.

“Alright, let’s do it. First question, who’s the most dramatic in Toman?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

Emma grinned mischievously. “Baji. No contest.”

You couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah, he’s always throwing tantrums like he’s the main character in a soap opera.”

You glanced at Mikey again. He was still oblivious, but you could feel him shifting a little closer to you. That clinginess of his was getting real obvious.

“And... who’s the most secretly emotional?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You weren’t going for anything too serious, just something fun to see how she’d respond.

Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Draken. He’s always trying to hide it, but you know the guy’s a softie.”

You looked over at Draken, who was standing with his arms folded, looking like the stoic rock of the group. “Hmm, you’re right. You can tell he’s got a heart of gold hidden under all that tough guy exterior.”

“Okay, okay,” Emma continued. “Now... who’s the most likely to cry during a movie?”

You glanced at Mikey, who was fiddling with his phone, sitting back on the stone steps like he owned the place. Without missing a beat, you answered, “Mikey.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, amused. “Really?”

You shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he watches a movie? He gets emotional over the smallest things.”

Emma laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

You leaned in closer, trying to stifle your laugh. “Alright, next one — who’s the worst cook in Toman?”

This time, Emma didn’t hesitate. “Mikey. He can’t even make toast without burning it.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. “He once tried to make instant ramen, and the kitchen smelled like smoke for hours.”

Emma raised her eyebrows, laughing quietly. “He’s definitely not winning any cooking awards. I bet he doesn’t even know how to make eggs.”

You glanced over at Mikey just as he casually draped his arm over your shoulder again, pulling you closer like he was very aware of what you were talking about. “What are you two gossiping about over here?”

You gave him your most innocent look. “Oh, nothing. Just discussing your many... talents.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed playfully, his lips twitching into a grin. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

You winked at him. “You’re really bad at cooking.”

He feigned shock, but his grin grew. “I can cook just fine, thank you very much. But, I guess if you don’t like my cooking, I’ll just have to feed you from now on.”

“Oh? You’re volunteering?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mikey’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Of course. I’m a man of many talents.” He leaned in a little closer. “You’re gonna love my cooking... or my effort at it.”

Emma stifled a laugh and glanced at you. “I love how he thinks he’s so charming.”

You smirked. “He’s adorable, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to roast him when it comes to the kitchen.”

Mikey gave you a playful nudge, pretending to be offended. “I’m taking this jacket back, then. No more claiming you in front of everyone.”

“Try it, and I’ll keep it,” you shot back, leaning into him.

Mikey’s eyes flicked over to the group briefly, sensing that the meeting was winding down, and then whispered, “I’m not done yet. You can’t escape me.”

You laughed quietly, shifting your focus back to Emma, who was trying to contain her giggles.

“Alright, last question,” you said, winking at Emma. “Who’s most likely to start a fight over something stupid?”

Emma didn’t think twice. “Mikey. Hands down. He’d fight someone for the last piece of candy.”

You blinked at her. “Wait... really?”

Emma shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he's hangry?”

You felt Mikey’s grip tighten on your shoulder, a sly grin forming on his face as he overheard the conversation.

“That’s not true,” he said smoothly, leaning down to kiss your temple, his voice suddenly low and teasing. “I’d never fight for candy.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Oh really?”

He winked at you, voice still soft. “Okay, maybe for candy. Or, you know, you. I’d fight anyone for you.”

Before you could retort, the meeting was starting to wrap up, and Mikey shot one last smug look at the gang. He seemed far more interested in you than anything going on in the meeting.

“Guess we’re done here, huh?” Mikey said, standing up and pulling you with him. “Time to take my girl home.”

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m pretty sure you’re the reason the meeting’s done.”

You laughed as Mikey gave Emma a playful, unbothered grin. “She’s right. You’re welcome.”

You snatched up his jacket and stood up, wrapping it around yourself like a shield from the cold. “And here I thought you were the dramatic one.”

Mikey winked, slinging an arm around you as you both made your way down the stairs. “Who else would do it better?”

Emma shook her head but smiled. “You two are impossible.”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning up at Mikey. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had finally wrapped up, the last bit of gang business taken care of. Mikey, as always, had been the first to disengage, already bouncing on his heels and ready to drag you away. His arm was still comfortably draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his jacket, which was now wrapped snugly around you.

“So, where are we going?” you asked, teasing him. He hadn’t even asked you where you wanted to go — it was as if the choice was already made for you.

“Wherever I want, obviously,” Mikey replied, giving you a cheeky grin. “I’m the leader, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on your face. Mikey was so Mikey — goofy, possessive, and absolutely confident. It was hard not to laugh at his antics.

Emma caught up with you both, waving you off with a grin. “I’ll see you two later. Don’t kill each other over lunch or something.”

“You’re welcome to join us!” Mikey called after her, but Emma just laughed and shook her head.

“Nah, I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Enjoy fighting over where to eat.”

You shot Emma a quick look, mouthing “Thanks for the backup” as she walked off, leaving you with Mikey. He was already pulling you in a direction that you couldn’t quite place.

“So, where are we really going?” you asked, a little more curious now.

Mikey just shrugged, leading you through the streets with that same carefree attitude. “Wherever. I don’t know. As long as you’re with me, I’m good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, looking at him sideways. “You really are impossible.”

He glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing in mock offense. “Impossible? I prefer the term ‘unpredictably fun.’”

You snorted. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Mikey didn’t let up, pulling you into a nearby cafe. It was one of those quiet little places tucked away from the hustle and bustle. He always seemed to know the best spots. Mikey led you straight to the counter, practically ordering for you without asking. The staff knew him by name — of course they did — and they didn’t even bat an eye at his antics.

When you got your food, Mikey insisted on sitting beside you in the most obnoxious, over-the-top way. He draped his arm around the back of your chair like he was marking his territory, then casually placed his drink next to yours, making sure it was as close as humanly possible.

You glanced at him, half amused and half exhausted from his clinginess. “Mikey, really?”

“What?” he asked innocently, as if nothing was unusual. “You’re my girl. I gotta be close.”

You shook your head, but it was impossible to stay mad at him. Even though his possessiveness was overwhelming, it was... endearing. In his own Mikey way, he really cared.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but let the conversation wander back to the game you and Emma had played earlier. Mikey had been half-listening to your banter with Emma, but now he seemed to be picking up on the teasing.

“So, I’m the most dramatic and the worst cook, huh?” he asked, his voice teasing. “I’m hurt.”

You smirked, giving him a sideways glance. “You know, you could’ve at least tried to cook for me.”

Mikey shrugged as he took a sip of his drink. “I’d burn the kitchen down. You’re lucky I just buy you food instead.”

“Well, if you can’t cook, then what is your talent, Mikey?” you teased.

His grin grew wider. “Everything.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice. “But my real talent is making you happy.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the fond smile tugging at your lips. “You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“I know,” Mikey replied, his voice a soft hum. He raised his glass and made a toast with you. “But you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You clinked your glass against his, the light reflecting off the surface as you smiled. “Maybe not.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. It was one of those moments where everything felt right — where Mikey’s energy wasn’t overwhelming, just... comforting.

After a few minutes, Mikey suddenly leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning to you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Alright, next round of the game. Who’s the most ridiculous in Toman?”

You smirked, already knowing the answer. “You, obviously.”

Mikey sat up straight, his expression mock-hurt. “Me? Ridiculous? I’ll have you know I’m a pillar of wisdom and sophistication.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure. You’re like a walking disaster waiting to happen.”

He grinned widely. “Exactly. And you love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Mikey had a way of making his chaos seem so charming.

The conversation shifted, and Mikey got more playful, asking questions about who could really take him down in a fight, who would survive a zombie apocalypse, and even who in Toman had the worst fashion sense (to which Mikey had been quick to answer, “Definitely me, because I’m too stylish to even handle.”)

But by the end of the day, as the sun began to set, Mikey had you laughing and smiling in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

His clinginess, his silly personality, and his never-ending ability to make you the center of his world — it was impossible not to fall for him even harder.

“So,” Mikey said as you both strolled back toward the familiar streets of your neighborhood, “about that date... I’m taking you out again soon. No excuses.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not letting me say no, are you?”

“Never,” Mikey replied, his voice full of conviction. “You’re mine.”

With that, you laughed, feeling the warmth of his presence wash over you again. “I guess I am.”

And just like that, Mikey claimed you, not just with his words, but with his laughter, his quirky charm, and that clingy little streak of his that made him impossible to resist.

___________________________________________________________________________

The moonlight bled through the half-open curtains, painting the room in soft silver. Everything was still — the house, the street, the city. Except for Mikey.

He couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t anything new. Sometimes the quiet felt too loud in his head, and he’d lie there with his arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling and thinking about things he didn’t really like to think about.

But tonight was different. You were there. Curled up in his bed with one of his pillows half-hugged and his gang jacket still wrapped around your shoulders.

He hadn’t meant for you to fall asleep in it. You’d just been hanging around after the shrine meeting, teasing him about his bad cooking and trying to steal the last rice cracker. You’d both ended up watching some old anime on his laptop, but while he was talking at full speed, you’d started nodding off.

Now, the only sound in the room was your quiet breathing.

Mikey turned on his side and watched you for a minute. The jacket looked huge on you — sleeves long enough to cover your hands, the collar a bit too wide, but it was warm and soft and unmistakably his.

A lazy smile crept onto his face.

“You look good in my jacket, y’know that?” he whispered, even though you probably weren’t awake. “Too good, actually. Kinda makes me wanna put another one on you. Just to be sure people really get the message.”

You stirred slightly, murmuring something sleepy and unintelligible, pulling the jacket closer around yourself like a blanket.

Mikey reached out, gently brushing some hair away from your face, voice even softer now. “You’re dangerous, [Name]. You make me soft.”

There wasn’t a trace of teasing in his tone now — just something quieter, more real.

“I could fight a hundred guys with a smile on my face, but the second you look at me like that, I forget how to act.”

His hand hovered near yours, not quite touching, just... close.

“You make this world feel like it’s not so heavy sometimes.”

You shifted again, eyes fluttering open for just a second. “...Manjiro?”

Mikey froze for a second, then leaned in a little with a lopsided smile. “Hey. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You blinked slowly, voice drowsy and muffled. “You’re staring.”

“You’re wearing my jacket,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

You gave him a sleepy look. “...You’re weird.”

Mikey laughed softly under his breath. “Takes one to love one.”

You smiled faintly, eyes already drifting closed again. “You’re clingy...”

“And you like it,” he replied, smug.

Before you could argue, Mikey leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then one to your lips — soft and careful, as if even half-asleep, you were something precious.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll stay up and guard you from the nightmares.”

You mumbled something about “being dramatic,” but Mikey just smiled and pulled the blanket up around your shoulders, letting you melt back into rest with his jacket wrapped tight around you — the clearest mark that you were his.

And in that quiet room, under the weight of moonlight and his own feelings, Mikey finally let himself breathe a little easier.

___________________________________________________________________________

You felt the shift in the bed before you even opened your eyes.

Mikey had moved. Not far, just enough for you to feel the absence of his warmth next to you. The room was still wrapped in shadows, the sky outside that deep pre-dawn blue that only appeared when the world was holding its breath between night and morning.

You mumbled into your pillow. “Manjiro?”

“Right here,” he answered softly from the edge of the bed, where he was lacing up his boots — already dressed in that half-wrinkled, “I woke up like this” biker look he pulled off way too easily.

You yawned and rolled over slowly, still wrapped in his jacket like a cocoon. “Why are you up? It’s not even light out.”

He turned his head slightly, gave you that small smile — the one that looked like he knew something you didn’t. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You blinked at him. “Again?”

He stood up, walked over to your side, crouching by the bed so he was level with your sleepy face. His hair was a little messy, eyes warm but bright with something restless.

“Wanna go for a ride?”

You stared at him, still half-asleep. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just you and me. City’s empty this early. You’ll like it.”

You snorted, burying your face into his jacket collar. “You know I was planning to skip school today anyway…”

Mikey grinned like that was exactly the answer he’d expected. “So, that’s a yes?”

You let out a long breath, then dragged yourself upright, hair tousled, eyes still a little heavy. “Yeah, okay. Just let me brush my teeth so you don’t crash the bike from second-hand sleep breath.”

He laughed, actually laughed, and leaned forward to press a kiss to your cheek before you shuffled toward the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting behind him on his bike, arms wrapped around his waist, the wind already picking up even though the sun hadn’t risen yet. The city was dead quiet, the roads almost too open — like it all belonged to the two of you.

You pressed your cheek against his back, still a little drowsy but content.

“You sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to keep me all to yourself?” you asked over the hum of the engine.

Mikey didn’t turn his head, but you could hear the grin in his voice. “Absolutely.”

You chuckled, holding on a little tighter. “Figures.”

As the wind rushed past you and the horizon slowly turned from deep blue to gold, Mikey sped up just a little — not recklessly, but enough to make your heart lift.

The city may have been asleep, but you weren’t.

Not with him.

And in that moment, wrapped in his jacket, hands on his ribs, heartbeat steady against your own — it felt like nothing could touch the two of you.

___________________________________________________________________________

The roar of the engine softened as Mikey finally slowed, pulling the bike to a stop near the edge of the wide riverbank. The sun was just beginning to rise, streaks of orange and pale gold bleeding across the sky like watercolors. The city was still far off in the distance, quiet and untouched.

You blinked against the light, stretching as you climbed off the bike, your fingers brushing against his back for balance.

“Where…?” you started to ask, but Mikey just glanced over his shoulder and gave you a half-smile.

“My favorite spot,” he said. “No one really comes out here. ‘Cept Draken sometimes, but he sleeps more than you do.”

You scoffed. “I don’t sleep that much.”

“You slept through me putting your shoes on,” he deadpanned, clearly amused. “Like a toddler.”

You glared at him, but your sleepy pout only made him grin wider. “Okay, fair.”

The river shimmered under the rising sun, its slow current gliding past with a peaceful rhythm. It wasn’t flashy — just still water, a crumbling concrete ledge, and an old vending machine nearby. But the moment you took a breath and let the quiet sink in, you understood.

There was something healing about it. It felt like time slowed down here.

Mikey sat down on the ledge and patted the space beside him. “C’mere.”

You dropped beside him, pulling his jacket tighter around your frame as the breeze picked up. He was still watching the water, eyes distant but soft.

“This is where I come when everything gets too loud,” he said after a long moment. “Gang stuff, family stuff… even my own thoughts sometimes. Out here, it’s just quiet. Real quiet.”

You nodded, not needing to say anything. The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It was grounding.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You ever get that too? Just wanna… vanish for a bit?”

You smiled faintly. “All the time. That’s why I said yes to this, even half-asleep.”

He chuckled. “Guess we both needed it, huh?”

Another silence settled in — comfortable, easy — until Mikey turned to face you completely.

“You really do look good in my jacket,” he murmured again, but this time with more meaning behind it. “Like you belong in it. Like you belong with me.”

You tilted your head. “That a confession, Manjiro?”

He grinned. “No, that was a statement. The confession happened when I stole that kiss back at the school.”

You laughed under your breath. “Right. Forgot how bold you are.”

“I’m just honest,” he said, eyes never leaving yours now. “I want you in my life. Every day. In my jacket, on my bike, next to me at meetings — all of it. So yeah, maybe I’m clingy. But I’ve already decided.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused and touched. “Decided what?”

He leaned in just a little, voice low but firm. “That you’re mine.”

There it was again — Mikey’s bluntness. He never said things halfway. But his voice carried something steadier now. No joke, no teasing — just truth.

You looked at him for a moment, heart a little full, then gently rested your head on his shoulder.

“Took you long enough to say it like that,” you whispered.

Mikey let out a soft breath of a laugh, his arm coming around your waist. “Yeah, yeah. I get there eventually.”

You stayed like that for a while, watching the sun rise over the water, wrapped in his warmth, the silence holding you both in place. And even though the world would get loud again — school, gang drama, real life — this moment was yours.

Just you and Mikey, where it was quiet.

Where everything made sense.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were both quiet again, the sun now fully risen and casting a warm, golden glow across the water. Mikey’s arm was still lazily draped around your waist, and your head rested lightly against his shoulder. It was one of those rare, slow mornings where the whole world seemed to hush just for you two.

Then, softly—almost like it slipped out—Mikey murmured, “I wanna marry you someday.”

You blinked, lifting your head slightly to see if he was joking. But he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was still fixed on the water, eyes unreadable for a second. There was no smirk, no laugh waiting behind his lips. Just quiet certainty.

“I mean it,” he continued, a little softer now. “Not right away or anything. Just… I’ve never really thought about the future like that. Not until you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. He didn’t say things like this often — not without a joke in his tone, not without that cheeky grin. But now he was just... honest. Serious in a way that made your breath catch.

You looked down for a second, cheeks flushing with warmth you couldn’t hide even if you wanted to. Then you smiled, wide and real, and reached for his hand.

“I can’t wait for that,” you whispered, eyes shining. “You, me, someday? That sounds perfect.”

Mikey finally looked at you then — and he beamed. Like he’d just won the world’s biggest prize. He kissed your hand, then stood up and offered his, the jacket falling perfectly into place over your shoulders again.

“Come on,” he said, that teasing sparkle returning to his eyes. “Let’s get breakfast. Or whatever meal it is when you skip school before it even starts.”

You laughed, taking his hand. “Sounds like a plan, fiancé.”

His grin? Dangerous.

“You better not say that around Draken. He’ll faint.”

___________________________________________________________________________

You were walking back through a narrow side street, heading toward a place Mikey swore had the “best melonpan in Tokyo,” when you turned a corner and—

“Oi,” a rough voice called out. “That jacket…”

You both paused.

A small group of older teens — four, maybe five guys — loitered near the vending machines, all wearing mismatched leather and chains. They weren’t Toman. Not even close.

One of them, clearly the leader, stepped forward with a sneer.

“That’s the Tokyo Manji Gang’s uniform, isn’t it?” he said, looking straight at you. “Don’t tell me they’ve got little girlfriends doing their laundry now.”

Mikey didn’t flinch. But he did step just slightly to the side, like he was getting ready to put himself between you and them.

You placed a hand lightly on his arm.

“I got this,” you said calmly.

He blinked. “What?”

You shrugged off his jacket slowly, folded it once, and handed it to him. Then you stepped forward, cracking your knuckles.

The leader scoffed. “What the hell are you—?”

You moved before he could finish the sentence — ducking low, sweeping his legs out with a sharp, practiced kick. He hit the ground with a surprised grunt, and before the others could even react, you’d already dropped two more with precise, fluid strikes.

Mikey stood there — wide-eyed, holding his own jacket — watching as you took out the last guy with a clean elbow to the gut and a twist that sent him sprawling.

You brushed your hands off casually, turned, and walked back to him like it was nothing.

“Sorry,” you said, slipping his jacket back on, still a little breathless. “Didn’t wanna get it dirty.”

Mikey stared at you.

Then blinked.

Then grinned — slow and completely floored.

“…Okay,” he said, sounding slightly dazed. “That was… hot.”

You laughed, grabbing his hand again. “Come on, melonpan, remember?”

He followed you wordlessly for a moment, then muttered under his breath, “I have to marry you.”

You just smiled to yourself, tugging him along.

___________________________________________________________________________

The smell of warm melonpan filled the air as you and Mikey sat down at a small, nearly-empty café just outside the neighborhood. The place had a cozy, nostalgic feel — the kind of place that wasn’t flashy, just serving good food. Mikey slouched a little in his seat, looking content, but there was still something in his eyes — a curiosity that hadn’t left since the moment you’d knocked out those guys in the alley.

You sipped your drink, watching him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Mikey leaned forward, his eyes wide with genuine interest. “You really didn’t even break a sweat. And it wasn’t like you were messing around either. You took ‘em down like… you’ve done it a thousand times.”

You bit your lip, setting your cup down. “I’ve had my share of… situations. You know, self-defense stuff.”

He nodded slowly, his face softening. “Yeah, but... why didn’t you tell me?”

You smiled a little, leaning back in your chair. “I guess I didn’t think it was that important.”

“Important?” Mikey leaned in, voice getting a little more intense. “You kicked their asses! You’re not just some random girl in my life, [Name]. You’re, well, you’re my girl and I… don’t like people messing with you.”

You felt your heart flutter a bit at the possessiveness in his voice. Even if it came across a bit bluntly, you knew it came from a good place.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” you teased, “But I’ll keep the really big fights for you.”

Mikey paused for a moment, his eyes softening, and he grinned. “I’m still amazed. Like… that was amazing. Seriously, I wasn’t even expecting that.”

You laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed, but also proud of your skills. “You never asked, Mikey. You just assumed I couldn’t take care of myself.”

He pouted for a second, clearly teasing. “Well, I’m a little slow sometimes.”

“Just a little?” You raised an eyebrow, and Mikey burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay, a lot. But still, that was so cool,” he said, still looking at you in awe. “I gotta say, I like knowing you’ve got my back, even when I don’t see it coming.”

“Well,” you smiled softly, “we’re in this together. Always.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The shrine was the usual spot for Toman meetings — surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the stone steps and the rising mist from the morning dew. The gang was already gathering, sitting on the steps and the edge of the stone platforms, awaiting Mikey’s arrival.

The air was cool, the distant sound of city life buzzing in the background, but at this time of morning, the world felt quiet. Almost serene, in a way.

You had arrived with Mikey, still wearing his jacket, your presence drawing a few curious glances from the gang as you approached.

Mikey seemed unbothered by it. If anything, he was grinning, his arm slung casually over your shoulder. His pride was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell he was practically bursting to share what had happened earlier.

“Alright, alright,” Mikey began as you both reached the group, a playful edge to his voice. “So, before we get into anything important… I gotta say something.”

Draken, sitting at the top of the stairs, shot Mikey a look. “What now?”

“I’ve gotta introduce you guys to the best fighter in the gang.” Mikey’s grin was mischievous. “The one who wiped the floor with five random punks today. [Name].”

There was a beat of silence before everyone burst out into laughter. Takemichi, ever the worried one, was the first to speak.

“You’re joking, right? There’s no way—”

Mikey’s grin only widened. “No joke. She took them down like she was born for it.”

The others turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief, and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “It wasn’t a big deal, guys. Just some guys talking crap.”

Draken, not one to back down from a challenge, raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re telling me you just knocked out five guys?”

You shrugged, feeling the nervous tension of all their stares. “I’ve had some training, that’s all.”

Emma, who had tagged along after your girls’ trip, chuckled as she leaned against a nearby pillar. “She’s being modest.”

“Self-defense, huh?” Mitsuya asked, clearly intrigued, eyeing you with a mix of respect and curiosity. “That’s impressive.”

You gave a slight nod. “Yeah, well, I’ve had to learn a few things. Just in case.”

The air shifted slightly — more respect, more admiration — and even Draken gave you an approving nod. “Guess we’ve got a real badass on our hands.”

Mikey, still standing next to you, looked absolutely thrilled. His eyes sparkled as he turned to the group. “You guys know how I like my gang, right? Strong, loyal, but also…” He let the words hang in the air, his grin widening. “...Not afraid to kick some ass. And now we’ve got a legit fighter on our side.”

The boys seemed impressed, and as the conversation moved forward, Mikey’s pride never seemed to wane. He kept leaning closer to you, occasionally nudging you with his elbow or stealing a glance at you, like he couldn’t stop showing off his girl.

It wasn’t long before Mikey finally sat down, pulling you onto the step beside him.

The gang had fallen into their usual chatter, but Mikey’s attention was still on you, his fingers lightly brushing against your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’ve really been riding the high from this, huh?”

Mikey grinned, looking almost like a kid on Christmas. “You’re my girl. Of course I’m proud.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was warm from his excitement. “I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.”

“Well, you didn’t have to,” Mikey said, his voice low but with that familiar cheekiness. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Before you could respond, Draken walked over, looking between you both with that big, knowing grin on his face.

“Alright, Mikey,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got your fighter. Now we just gotta keep her from running the whole damn gang, huh?”

The others, who had gathered near the steps, started chuckling.

Mikey just smirked, his eyes never leaving you. “Nah. She’s just gonna make sure no one messes with us.”

You shot Mikey a playful look. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

“Not a chance,” Mikey said, squeezing your hand gently.

___________________________________________________________________________

As the meeting began to progress, more questions started popping up. The group was still buzzing about your fight. You hadn’t expected this kind of attention, but it was fun to see everyone’s reactions.

“Alright, but seriously, what kind of training are we talking about here?” Takemichi asked, leaning in as if trying to figure out your secret. “You can’t just become that good overnight.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Boxing, some martial arts… a little bit of everything. Just wanted to make sure I can protect myself.”

Emma, always the one with a mischievous edge, nudged you with a smile. “You know, Mikey’s a little territorial, huh? Think he’ll keep the boys in line for you?”

“Stop it, Emma,” Mikey grumbled, though his eyes were still twinkling as he shot a look at you. “I don’t need to keep anyone in line. Not when she’s got it handled.”

Draken just shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “You guys are something else. Never thought I’d see Mikey all proud of his girl like this.”

Mikey puffed out his chest, not in arrogance but in pure pride. “She’s not just any girl. She’s my girl.”

The entire group seemed to settle into a comfortable quiet, respect mingling with that familiar teasing atmosphere. Mikey wasn’t just proud of you for your strength. It was everything you were — the way you fit into Toman, how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic world, yet still stood out. And Mikey? He was absolutely, unapologetically in love with that.

You leaned into his shoulder, letting the peaceful quiet settle around you again.

"Guess we're all in this together now," you murmured, a slight grin tugging at your lips.

"Always," Mikey said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Now, let’s get this meeting over with.

__________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had officially fallen apart.

It started small — just you and Emma whispering to each other at the edge of the group while Draken tried his best to keep the meeting serious. But then you laughed. Loud enough that heads turned.

That’s when Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, lounging beside you but already suspicious.

Emma leaned over, hand cupped around her mouth. “We’re playing ‘Toman Superlatives.’”

“...What?”

You grinned. “It’s like… ‘who would survive a zombie apocalypse,’ or ‘who has main character energy.’ That kinda thing.”

“You’re doing this during my meeting?”

“It’s Draken’s meeting,” Emma corrected.

Draken, overhearing, raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want it either.”

“Carry on,” Mikey said, waving a hand like a bored emperor — but leaning closer like he very much wanted to hear your answers.

Emma smirked. “Okay, okay—next one. Who’s most likely to cry at a sad movie?”

You pointed. “Takemichi.”

“WHY ME?!” Takemichi shouted from the sidelines.

Everyone nodded.

“Okay but true,” Chifuyu said, patting his back. “You cried at Spirited Away, bro.”

“It was emotional!” Takemichi protested.

Emma grinned. “Alright, who gives the best hugs?”

You tapped your chin, eyes flicking across the group. “Draken. He’s tall and warm. I feel like he smells nice.”

Draken blinked. “...Thanks?”

Mikey’s head whipped toward you. “Excuse me?!”

“You don’t smell like anything, Mikey,” you said sweetly.

“I smell like power and mystery,” he deadpanned.

“Power and mystery smells like gasoline and melon bread,” you teased.

The gang cackled. Even Draken cracked a smile.

Emma was dying, holding onto your arm. “Okay, okay—this one’s good. Who would be the most dramatic if their crush didn’t text back right away?”

Everyone pointed at Mikey.

He looked personally offended. “ME?! I don’t even text! I show up.”

“Exactly,” you said. “You showed up at my classroom window once because I didn’t answer.”

“You left me on read,” he said defensively.

“It was five minutes, Mikey.”

“Too long.”

More laughter rippled through the gang, and for once, even Mitsuya chuckled behind his usual calm smile.

Emma leaned in again, eyes twinkling. “Who’s most likely to flirt without realizing it?”

“Smiley,” you and Emma said in sync.

“He absolutely knows what he’s doing,” Mitsuya added. “He just pretends he doesn’t.”

Smiley raised his hands innocently. “I’m charming. It’s a problem.”

Mikey leaned toward you again. “Okay, your turn. Who would you call first if you were in trouble?”

You paused.

The teasing faded for just a second. You looked at Mikey — the way he was watching you, clearly waiting for the answer.

Your smile softened. “You.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“You’d be there in a second,” you said. “No questions asked. No matter what.”

The silence that followed was warm. No one teased. No one joked.

Mikey’s expression relaxed, his cheeky energy softening just enough to let the affection shine through.

“Damn right,” he said quietly, reaching out to tug the sleeve of his jacket up on you again. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”

Emma leaned against you, smiling. “Okay, but you still didn’t pick him for hottest.”

“I am the hottest,” Mikey muttered.

“Still Mitsuya,” you said under your breath.

“I heard that!”

The boys laughed again, and you nestled into Mikey’s side, his arm curling around your waist like it was second nature.

The meeting may have started serious, but this — these moments, with jokes, teasing, and your fingers brushing against his — this was what family felt like in Toman.

And you were finally, completely part of it.

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting finally broke apart, boys peeling off in pairs, loud voices fading into the evening air as they headed toward their bikes. You and Mikey lingered behind, walking down the long stone steps with his hand loosely curled around your wrist.

He hadn’t said much since the game ended.

That should’ve been your first clue.

You glanced at him — he wasn’t pouting exactly, but his mouth was pressed in that little line it made when he was pretending something didn’t bother him. His eyes were fixed ahead, lashes low, but you could feel the shift in energy like static.

“…You good?”

“Yep.”

Liar.

You stepped in front of him, halting him just before the last step. “You’re mad I didn’t say you were the hottest, aren’t you?”

He looked away with exaggerated disinterest. “I said I’m fine.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Manjirō.”

He finally looked at you — pout fully formed now. “I’m your boyfriend and you said Mitsuya.”

You tried not to smile. “Because Mitsuya is handsome.”

“Yeah, but I’m me,” he said, as if that alone should’ve won every category. “Your me.”

You laughed softly, stepping closer and brushing his hair back from his eyes. “You want me to kiss it better?”

His ears turned pink. “...Maybe.”

So you did.

Right there on the bottom step, you leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to the corner of his pouty mouth — then another, right on his lips. Slow and warm and full of something that made his hand tighten around your wrist again.

When you pulled back, his cheeks were a little red.

“Better?” you whispered.

He hummed. “One more. Just in case.”

You laughed again, but gave it to him — and this time, he pulled you with him as he turned and walked toward his bike, hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist like he wasn’t letting go ever again.

His motorbike was leaned against a tree near the edge of the shrine path, moonlight glinting off the chrome. You’d barely turned your head to look at it before Mikey tugged you in, sitting on the seat and pulling you between his legs with ease.

You rested your hands on his shoulders. “We’re not going yet, are we?”

“Nah,” he mumbled, arms sliding around your waist. “Just wanna sit with you.”

He leaned forward, head pressing to your stomach, sighing like he’d finally gotten what he wanted. Your fingers threaded through his hair automatically, soft and slow.

“You’re really that offended?”

“I’m not offended,” he muttered into your hoodie. “I just wanted you to say I’m hot.”

“You’re hot,” you said without missing a beat.

“Too late.”

“Mikey.”

He looked up, chin resting against your ribs. “I forgive you,” he said seriously. “But only if you ride with me tomorrow.”

You grinned. “Was planning to.”

His smile softened, hands still locked around your waist, holding you there like you might float away.

“You look good like this,” he said quietly. “With my jacket. With me.”

Your heart stuttered — again. He always did that. Just when you thought he was done being serious, he slipped in something so soft it nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“I like being yours, y’know,” you whispered.

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

You bent down, kissed his forehead gently. “Yeah.”

He looked like he was trying not to smile too wide — but failing.

“Then stay a little longer.”

You didn’t need to answer. You just curled into his lap, his jacket big enough to cover you both from the cool night air, the sounds of engines echoing in the distance, and the warmth of Mikey’s arms around you making the shrine feel like your own little world.

___________________________________________________________________________

The sky was still painted in sleepy pinks and quiet oranges when your phone buzzed.

[Mikey💀] "Outside. Get on. We’re skipping school."

You blinked at the message, then peeked out your window.

There he was.

Leaning against his prized motorbike, arms crossed, the wind tossing his blond hair slightly, looking way too proud of himself for someone who probably hadn’t slept more than four hours. His uniform jacket hung lazily off his shoulders, and his helmet dangled from two fingers like a promise.

Of trouble. And something softer.

You didn’t even hesitate.

By the time you slipped out your door, Mikey’s eyes lit up like you were the sunrise itself.

He held out the helmet immediately. “You took too long. I almost came up and carried you out.”

“You would’ve,” you said flatly.

“I should’ve,” he said, helping you clip the strap under your chin, his fingers brushing your jaw like he had to touch you.

“Where are we going?”

He smirked. “Wherever you want. But first, we ride.”

On the Road – Wind and Freedom

There was something about riding with Mikey that didn’t feel like real life. Maybe it was the way he drove — fast but sure, reckless but safe in his own weird way. Maybe it was the way the city blurred past, or how your arms fit perfectly around his middle, your cheek pressed against his back.

But most of all, it was the silence between you — warm, unspoken understanding that didn’t need filling.

The city faded. The buildings shrank. And then you reached it.

The Waterfront – His Favorite Place

The same quiet spot from before — the wide edge of the river where the world seemed to pause. The water stretched out smooth and silver under the early morning light, and the breeze was gentle, lifting Mikey’s hair as he cut the engine.

He parked, leaned the bike gently down, and held your hand as you hopped off — not letting go even when you were both standing.

“This place’s been mine forever,” he said softly, tugging you with him toward the edge. “But now it feels like it’s yours too.”

You smiled. “You always bring me to the quiet places.”

He looked at you — really looked. “You’re my quiet place.”

Your heart squeezed.

Then, as if he realized how serious that sounded, he added quickly, “And because you're hot. I wanna keep you where no one else sees you.”

You shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m yours,” he said smugly, sitting on the concrete ledge and pulling you into his lap without even asking.

You settled there, warm in the morning sun, his arms wound lazily around your waist again.

“You’re clingier than usual.”

He nodded against your shoulder. “Didn’t get enough time with you last night.”

You tilted your head. “We sat on your bike for almost two hours.”

“And it still wasn’t enough.”

You kissed the top of his head, your fingers playing with his hair.

He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded with sleep and affection. “Marry me.”

You blinked. “You’re doing this again?”

He grinned. “I meant it. Sooner or later, I’m locking you down.”

You leaned in and kissed him, slow and sure — then pulled back just far enough to whisper, “Then I hope it’s sooner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The breeze rolled in gentle waves, brushing across your skin like a whisper. Mikey rested his head on your shoulder, legs dangling over the concrete ledge where the river lapped below. For a long moment, he was quiet. Not out of awkwardness — just content.

But you could feel something stirring beneath the stillness.

He was thinking.

You didn’t rush him. Not with Mikey. When he was ready, he spoke.

“…Y’know when I was a kid,” he started, voice low, “I thought I had to be the strongest person alive.”

You turned your head slightly, eyes on his profile.

He wasn’t smiling now.

“I thought if I wasn’t strong… I’d lose everything. My brother. My gang. My people. So I decided I’d never show fear. Never slow down. Just keep pushing.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak. Letting him be.

He shifted slightly, arms still around your waist but his hands resting in his lap now.

“But you…” he said, almost like he was thinking out loud. “You don’t ask me to be strong. Or scary. You don’t even look at me like that.”

You swallowed. “Like what?”

“Like the rest of them do,” he said, glancing at you. “Like I’m some kind of unstoppable thing.”

You tilted your head. “You are strong, Mikey. But you’re also… kind. And funny. And stubborn. And incredibly dramatic.”

He smirked a little at that.

“And when you’re with me,” you continued, brushing your thumb across his knuckles, “you don’t have to be anything. Not the Invincible Mikey. Not the leader. Just… Manjirō.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he leaned in slowly and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s why I wanna marry you someday,” he murmured. “Not just ‘cause I love you. But ‘cause with you… I’m not afraid to just be me.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a second heartbeat.

You kissed him, soft and slow and full of every unspoken promise.

When you pulled back, you smiled against his lips. “Then I’ll wait for that day. As long as you want. I’m already yours, Manjirō.”

His arms slid tight around you again, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face into your neck with a sigh.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” he mumbled.

You rested your chin on his head. “Yeah. As long as you need.”

And so you sat — wrapped in each other, in the quiet, in the safety of being seen — as the river flowed and the morning sun painted the world golden.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been quiet for a while.

The kind of warm, sleepy silence only people who are deeply comfortable with each other can share. The sky was fully awake now, soft blue stretching above you, while the city remained distant, forgotten.

Mikey still had you wrapped up in his arms on his lap, chin tucked onto your shoulder like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

And then, out of nowhere—

“Okay. So if we had twins…”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” Mikey said, completely casual, like you’d been having this conversation. “If we had twins. A boy and a girl.”

You turned to look at him. “Where is this coming from?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “I think we’d make cute babies. It’s a valid thought.”

Your face burned. “Mikey—”

“Manjirō,” he corrected smugly.

You lightly smacked his chest. “You’re skipping way too many steps.”

He leaned his chin in his hand dramatically. “Don’t act like you didn’t just promise to marry me.”

You laughed, trying to hide your flustered smile. “Okay, fine. Twins. What are their names?”

“Glad you asked,” he said, sitting up straighter like he’d been waiting for this. “For the boy—Shin.”

“…Shin?”

“After Shinichiro. But just ‘Shin.’ Cool and strong. Simple. Like, ‘Oh no, Shin’s mad again.’ That kind of vibe.”

Your heart clenched a little at the mention of his brother, but the fondness in his voice made you smile.

“That’s actually… really sweet.”

“I know.” Then he grinned. “And for the girl…”

“Oh no.”

“Her name’s gonna be Pudding.”

You choked.

“Mikey—!”

“Manjirō,” he said again, grinning wider.

“You are not naming our child Pudding.”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “It’s cute. She’d be cute. Everyone loves pudding.”

You gave him your best unimpressed stare.

“…Fine,” he said with a fake sigh. “I’ll compromise. Her nickname can be Pudding. Her full name can be something like… Hikari. Or Yuzu.”

You blinked. “Yuzu’s really cute…”

He lit up. “Right?! Yuzu and Shin. Boom. Perfect.”

“Shin and Yuzu,” you repeated under your breath, testing the way it sounded. “That’s actually… adorable.”

Mikey leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky with the most self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Told you. I’m a genius.”

You glanced at him, at the messy hair and the way the morning light caught on his lashes, at the soft curve of his grin and the boyish glint in his eye.

“…You’d actually be a good dad,” you said, quieter than you meant to.

His smirk faded into something gentler.

“Only ‘cause I’d have you,” he said.

And just like that, the teasing melted back into something warmer. Realer.

He pulled you back into his lap again, hugging you like you were already his future, not just his present.

And maybe… you were.

___________________________________________________________________________

The same riverbank.

Years had passed, but Mikey still liked to come here. Still parked his bike at the edge of the slope, still kicked back with his hands behind his head, like he was king of the world and the sky existed just to amuse him.

But now, the boy was a man.

Still lazy-eyed and sun-touched, still with wind in his hair and that devil-may-care smirk — but something in him was more solid now. A spine of quiet strength. Eyes that had seen a little more but lost less. This time, he’d held onto what mattered.

And what mattered… was currently leaning her head on his shoulder, laughing at one of his stupid jokes.

You.

“You remember the first time I dragged you out here?” he asked, voice low but grinning.

“Dragged? I remember you begged me for a bike ride because you couldn’t sleep.”

“I did not beg,” he scoffed. “I persuaded.”

“Sure, Manjirō.”

He smirked, then nudged your temple with his own. “You were so nervous that night.”

“You tried to name our imaginary daughter Pudding.”

“She’s still on the list.”

You laughed, and for a while, you both just watched the river shimmer. The way it had back then. Before everything got bigger. Before Toman became a name whispered in every back alley with both fear and awe. Before Mikey became a living legend.

But with you, he was still the same dork who stole your fries and your heart.

So when he shifted beside you and said, “Close your eyes,” you did.

No questions. Just trust.

You felt him move. Heard the rustle of fabric. Then silence.

And then:

“Okay. Open.”

You turned — and your breath caught.

Mikey was sitting cross-legged in front of you, holding a ring between his fingers like it wasn’t heavy with meaning. Like it was just a ring. But his eyes… told a different story.

He wasn’t nervous.

He was glowing.

“I’m not gonna do some long speech,” he said. “I think you already know.”

He reached forward, gently taking your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he was trying to memorize them again.

“I love you. Like, idiotically much. Always have. Always will. I wanna eat breakfast with you every morning, and argue about baby names, and hold your hand when we’re eighty and I’ve got bad knees and saggy cheeks.”

You let out a teary laugh, but he was dead serious now.

“I wanna be your husband,” he said. “Not someday. Now.”

Then, softly:

“Marry me.”

The words settled between you like sunlight — warm and real and undeniable.

You nodded, barely able to speak. “Yes. Manjirō… yes.”

And that was it. He slipped the ring on like he’d always known where it belonged. Then pulled you in, kissed you like the world could end right there and he’d still be smiling.

Afterward, still holding you against his chest, he whispered:

“You’re gonna look so good in my last name.”

___________________________________________________________________________

If you thought being Mikey’s girlfriend was eventful, being his fiancée was like trying to plan a royal wedding during a gang meeting.

Which, unfortunately… was kind of exactly what it turned into.

You told Emma first — of course you did.

The moment you showed her the ring, her scream echoed across the café.

“HE FINALLY DID IT?!”

You barely had time to nod before she threw her arms around you, squealing like she’d just won the lottery. Which, to be fair, she kind of felt like she had.

“I’m going to plan everything,” she declared, already grabbing napkins to sketch ideas. “No—Mitsuya and I are going to plan everything. You’re going to have the most beautiful wedding Tokyo has ever seen.”

“Emma, I love you, but I don’t want to wear something with feathers and glitter—”

“Tasteful glitter,” she corrected.

Later, you told the rest of Toman at a casual gathering Mikey claimed would be “lowkey.”

Spoiler: it was not lowkey.

Mikey, with his usual subtlety, dropped the news mid-lunch like, “Oh yeah, I proposed. She said yes. Pass the soy sauce.”

Takemichi nearly choked on his noodles.

Smiley and Angry immediately started arguing about who would cry first at the wedding.

Draken just smirked and clapped Mikey on the back. “About time.”

Mitsuya pulled out a notebook. “When’s the fitting?”

You turned to Mikey. “You didn’t even ask if I wanted a big wedding.”

He shrugged, completely shameless. “Didn’t think you’d say no. Besides, if you did, we’d just ride off somewhere and do it alone.”

Everyone laughed—except you, because you knew he meant it.

__________________________________________________________________________

Your phone buzzed that night. A text from Mikey.

“You still wanna do this, right?”

You smiled, heart warm.

“Absolutely. Why?”

“Dunno. Just… can’t believe I get to marry you.”

You bit your lip, feeling the butterflies stir.

“You’re soft.”

“Only for you.”

“Go to sleep, Manjirō.”

“Can’t. Too excited.”

You stared at his last message for a moment. Then texted back:

“Me too.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The sun was golden over the shrine, soft and slow as it spilled across the worn stone steps. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, the air filled with faint traces of incense and the rustle of silk. It was traditional, timeless — just like Mikey wanted it.

Just like he always dreamed.

He stood with his hands tucked in the sleeves of his black montsuki, embroidered in silver with the Tokyo Manji insignia hidden within the family crest on the back. His hair was loose today, a little windswept, soft strands falling over his eyes.

He looked calm. He looked ready.

But his thumb was brushing circles against the inside of his sleeve.

Draken leaned in from behind him. “You nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Mikey said.

“You’re twitching.”

“I’m not twitching,” he said. Then blinked. “…Okay. Maybe a little.”

Draken smirked. “Good. Means you actually care.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it.

He was nervous.

Because you were everything.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were standing in front of the mirror as Emma adjusted the delicate hairpin at the side of your head, a deep breath caught somewhere in your chest.

“Okay, look at me,” she said, stepping back. “You are… breathtaking.”

You turned, eyes wide and shimmering. The white uchikake you wore shimmered with a subtle pattern of cranes and chrysanthemums — hand-sewn by Mitsuya, of course — and your obi was fastened in a delicate lotus bow, soft pink threading woven into it for good luck.

“Emma,” you whispered. “It’s really happening.”

She smiled, misty-eyed. “I know. He’s really doing it. You broke the curse, you know?”

You blinked. “Curse?”

“The Manjiro ‘never-gonna-marry-because-he-says-he’s-married-to-his-bike’ curse. You shattered it.”

You both laughed, clutching each other’s hands tightly.

Then, the doors opened.

The shrine was quiet — not tense, just reverent.

Toman members lined both sides of the main path in formal black. No one cracked jokes. Even Smiley looked serious. Even Baji’s ghost, if he were there, would’ve stayed quiet out of respect.

Because when Mikey turned and saw you walking toward him — radiant, sure, the very image of love and calm and everything he’d never deserved but somehow got — the whole world stilled.

His breath caught.

His heart ached in the best way.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Draken nudged him.

“You look like a kid who just got all the candy.”

He ignored him.

Because you had reached him. You were standing in front of him. You were about to become his wife.

And Mikey, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel like the leader of anything.

He just felt yours.

The priest read the words. You exchanged sake cups. You bowed together before the altar.

And when Mikey turned to face you again, his voice was soft — but his words landed like thunder.

“I was a storm before you,” he said, not caring about tradition. “But you… you make me want peace. Every day. And I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.”

You didn’t even try to stop the tears. You smiled through them.

“I already feel like your wife,” you whispered. “But I’m so, so happy to be it in name too.”

He kissed you then — traditional timing be damned — and the crowd broke into quiet, reverent cheers.

Toman, at his back.

His future, in his arms.

___________________________________________________________________________

The room was quiet.

Not silent — the sound of water in the garden beyond the sliding doors still trickled peacefully, and the soft rustle of silk and linen moved as Mikey sat behind you, undoing the intricate layers of your wedding attire with slow, careful hands.

Neither of you had spoken much since the reception ended.

He didn’t need to.

The moment you stepped through the door of the traditional inn he’d chosen — away from the speeches, the dancing, the playful shouting of drunk Toman boys — Mikey had taken your hand and held it like it was the only thing grounding him to the earth.

“You’re really mine now,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the back of your shoulder.

You turned in his arms, hands against his chest. “I was always yours, Manjirō.”

He looked at you like he still couldn’t believe it. Like even now, after everything, you were a dream he hadn’t quite earned. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the last traces of makeup, the last glitter from Emma’s wild ceremony touch-ups.

“You looked beautiful today,” he said. “But not as beautiful as you do right now.”

You smiled, eyes shining. “You said that during the vows.”

“I meant it then, too.”

And then, softly:

“Can I hold you? Like… really hold you?”

You nodded, and the two of you lay down together on the futon. No rush. No urgency.

Just the weight of forever, finally within reach.

He kissed you slow. Not like the goofy kisses he’d steal at the shrine, or the teasing ones on your neck during bike rides. This was different. Intentional. Reverent.

He kissed you like a vow.

Fingers laced with yours. Arms around your waist. His voice in your ear, quiet and slightly rough:

“You’re my home.”

Morning came gently.

He was already awake, blinking at the ceiling with your hand resting over his bare chest, thumb twitching slightly in your sleep.

He glanced at you.

His wife.

His light.

His everything.

“Still here,” he murmured, smiling faintly.

You stirred, squinting at him. “Where else would I go?”

Mikey grinned, leaning in to steal a lazy, sleepy kiss. “Just checking.”

The years ahead stretched out wide and open — with Toman standing strong, with people he trusted at his side, and with you curled up next to him in his arms. For once, the future didn’t look heavy.

It looked like peace.

It looked like breakfast together in oversized shirts and soft hair and his jacket hanging next to your coat on the wall. Like you teasing him for talking in his sleep. Like picking baby names again on the balcony in the evening. Like safety.

And every now and then — when the world outside got loud — he’d pull you close and murmur in your ear like he did on the first night:

“Say it again.”

And you would.

“I love you, Manjirō.”

Always.

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and horror movies

notes: this is from ages ago but apparently i never posted it lol so im doing it now

masterlist

seungcheol

thinks horror movies are really cool! they're not at the top of his list, though, and he definitely prefers action movies with less psychological tricks and less fussy plots of good guys beating up the bad guys, but the suspense in horror films is always great too. laughs when the bedraggled and emo villain first appears on the screen and says that the villain looks like [insert which ever member pissed him off recently]

jeonghan

the most calm. offers his hands as stress balls to any members who need it during the film. was probably not paying attention for the entire thing, his brain having logged out of the human world and logged in to the angel network or something. offers to make popcorn every time, and by some weird psychic ability of his he always gets up to do refills right as the popcorn is running out for everyone. records seungkwan kicking chan into tomorrow every time they finish a film

joshua

is basically the human shield for the other scaredy cat members. he doesn't particularly like horror movies, but he's pretty good at keeping in his flinches and doesn't get that many nightmares from them afterwards. often gets dragged out to make cookies for dk bc he cant handle the movies. the person that everyone goes to at night when they can't sleep. once had a total of five members in his room after they all watched 'the shining' together, and let them sleep in his bed with him for the rest of the week.

junhui

loves (!!!!) horror movies so much. thinks they're the pinnacle of film industry art. gets scared by the super horrifying ones, but loves that feeling of getting scared so much. doesn't get nightmares bc he basically forgos sleep for two days straight after they watch a film, so he bores the nightmare demons into not visiting him. at least, that's what he swears by. does need to hide behind some of the other members tho when it gets a lil too scary for him to handle

hoshi

the epitome of reckless cockiness. boasts every single time that he's Great at handling horror movies, despite having a track record of Definitely Not being great at handling horror movies well. unintentionally engaged in a screaming duet with mingyu this one time. refuses to leave the room even when the members try to force him out bc he's too loud. always wakes up wonwoo, either bc he digs his fingers into his thigh thinking that he's jihoon or bc he's just being way too noisy. doesn't remember a single thing about the plot, pretends he remembers everything and says they should totally watch it again sometime

wonwoo

agrees to watch it with the members, ends up falling asleep halfway through. while everyone is talking about the terrifying cinematography afterwards, he's just sitting there like o_o bc he doesn't remember anything about the movie. he doesn't even mean to fall asleep, it just accidentally sort of happens. is woken up by hoshi during every movie tho bc that man is basically a high-pitched whistle when he's terrified and he gets terrified by horror movies all the time

jihoon

gets scared, but is scared the moderate amount. flinches at the jump scares, lets out little yelps at the sudden screams, but always does that cute giggle afterwards to show that he's more embarrassed than anything. has soonyoung's hand around his thigh like a vice the entire movie, and he has yet to figure out if the man is doing it to try and keep jihoon in place or to keep himself in place. sometimes gets nightmares after, but he doesn't really sleep enough to even have dreams on a daily basis, so.

minghao

doesn't like them, sits through them bc if too many people leave then chan gets sad that people aren't watching the movie he picked. pretends he's chill with it but he sits in the armchair by himself all curled up like a shrimp, hugging a cushion and squeezing his eyes shut whenever he gets too scared. after the movie's finished, though, he doesn't think it was all that bad. does that mean he's willing to watch it again? not really. but at least he's not getting nightmares for a week like the others.

mingyu

cannot even Think of watching them (1). is too terrified. clings to joshua so hard that he leaves the man with bruises on his arm. screams the loudest at every unexpected noise on the screen, even if it's something as tiny as a floorboard creak. can never finish the full movie, either bc he gets yelled out by the other members for being too noisy or ends up too creeper out and runs away to hide in hansol's room and watch him sleep to make sure he's okay

dokyeom

cannot even Think of watching them (2). gets all three of the 95 line to baby him for the first part bc he insists that this time he Will get thru it. holds jeonghan's hand the entire time. and seungcheol's. also has joshua's hand (the one on the arm Not being held hostage by mingyu) hovering near his face, ready to cover his eyes when something scary pops up on the screen. never makes it past the 45 minute mark without getting teary-eyed and having to leave, asking joshua to bake him cookies with him or something to help him calm down

seungkwan

gets absolutely terrified if theres any gore. psychological horror? hell yeah, he's down. demon/exorcism horror? so long as no ones peeling off anyone's skin, he's fine. horror movies (especially the ones chan picks) often leave a bad taste in his mouth tho so theyre not really his favourite. vows to never ever watch another horror movie that chan's picked out again, always ends up sitting on the couch squashed between jun and chan during the next horror movie viewing. beats up the maknae after every movie for suggesting something so grotesque and horrible

hansol

doesn't watch. he's not a big fan of the mildly plotless, gory horror movies chan always picks and instead goes into his room. tries to read a book or do something productive, ends up just falling asleep on the floor. wakes up to mingyu's face inches from his in almost pitch black darkness, the elder trembling like a leaf in the wind while telling him that he was guarding him while he was asleep to make sure he was okay. he turns on the light in the room and spends the rest of the night reassuring mingyu that the sounds he's hearing outside are totally normal and no werewolf is trying to break through their windows

chan

was probably the one to suggest the horror movie. he's pretty chill with them, finding them interesting (if not sometimes rlly repetitive) to watch. the suspense is his most favourite thing ever. he thinks it's super cool. flinches sometimes, but always laughs after. is the only one grinning with excitement once the movie is finished. looks around at his hyungs and asks if anyone would be willing to watch it again with him sometime?

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[anonymous-dentist]

Pangkey tax benefits wedding as planned but then they’re like Convinced that they’re straight right. Cool, #straight, #taxfraud, #heterosexuality

But then uhhhh whoops, trPangi is in bed staring up at the ceiling because he can’t sleep because he suddenly remembered that trLukey is asleep in the room next to his and, for whatever reason, he feels like there’s a rope tied around his chest pulling at him. An uncomfortable sensation in his gut that he’s only ever felt before when watching his teammates die on Lifesteal. An itch under his skin and an insistent poking at his brain and a weird sensation in his legs like they want to move

And one day Lukey is hanging at spawn with Aimsey and Beky when he sees Pangi down the road laughing at something Ros is telling him, and for some reason any words Lukey had in his throat have jumped out of his mouth and killed themselves. The sun hits Pangi’s hair in just the right way to make it look like it’s on fire, and he has smile lines on his face, and his laugh sounds like- it’s nice, okay? And Beky and Aimsey are groaning about yaoi, but Lukey can’t hear them because, for some reason, all he can hear is Pangi

Pangi uses his teleportation stick and teleports Lukey to him from across the map. Lukey lands right in Pangi’s arms with a scream because he was just flying and- and he looks down and sees Pangi’s surprised grin, and he can feel Pangi’s muscles shift as he tries to accommodate for Lukey’s weight. And Pangi sees Lukey with his hair all messy from flying and his cheeks and nose and ears bitten red from the high altitude he was just at and it’s like. He should put Lukey down, but it’s like. You know?

And they’re walking in the lab together, arguing about the water filtering system they still need to put together for the alchemy farm, and Lukey pushes Pangi to the side, and Pangi grabs Lukey’s hand to keep himself upright, and Lukey gets pulled by that against Pangi’s side, and Pangi stumbles again, and Lukey stands back up, and they start arguing again- this time about whatever just happened. And they keep holding hands as they bicker their way to the storage room because neither wants to be the first to let go and be made fun of for it

And Lukey is placing red wool on the side of Yellow’s walls in the shape of Bad’s head, Pangi drawing SpongeBob out of yellow wool down the way. On a whim, Lukey makes a little heart towards the ground. Pangi, when Lukey goes to sheer some more sheep, comes and secretly adds a ‘P + L’ next to it. He thinks it’s a joke, but he smiles when Lukey sees it and ‘Awww’s

And they’re eating dinner in Yellow’s kitchen, Ros off with Aimsey somewhere and thus unable to stop them from eating all the good stuff and throwing the rest into some fire. Lukey is drinking some wine, and Pangi is teasing him for it. But they could only find one glass, so they’re sharing. One sip for Lukey, one for Pangi. It’s like an indirect kiss, but it’s not, because-. They’re kicking each other under the table, smiling and joking and bickering. At one point, Lukey’s hand finds Pangi’s over the table, and they pass the wine glass between them, and there’s five stacks of tnt in Pangi’s inventory and a potion belt filled with Corruption vials in Lukey’s. Pangi has his ax, Lukey has his trident, they’re in matching armor with matching trims, and they are not indirectly kissing

And then, finally, one night, Pangi moves his bed into Lukey’s room, declares that Lukey’s room is now Pangi’s room, and lays on top of Lukey when he tries to argue about it. Pangi feels light as a feather as he pretends to snore, his face tucked into the side of Lukey’s neck. The fingers already tangled in Pangi’s hair are gentle, and the body attached to them is relaxed despite this sudden intrusion. An arm falls across Pangi’s back, holding him close, and it’s fine because this is just what married people do:

A kiss to Pangi’s temple, hesitant. A murmured ‘I love you’, scared. A hum of acknowledgment, of understanding, of shared fear. New territory for the both of them, but an adventure they’re willing to undergo together

[cheoridoll]

distraction —

pairing: robby keene x reader

warning: none, just something cute

words counted: 1.582

includes: just Robby like a puppy after his love

playlist for the fic: spotify. | forgive the bad english! it's not my first language.

A toss or a distraction, Robby felt useless at this point in the day, sitting on the couch at his half-brother's house, while staring at the turned off television, totally disconnected from his current reality, only remembering how he was used by a girl. And damn, he liked it. He couldn't deny that he was like a puppy, obeying all the orders of the tough rookie girl, the one who arrived suddenly, the distant female cousin of the Larusso family. Because Daniel loved her, she was like a daughter to him.

At first, he just wanted revenge, now he finds himself in love with his own karma.

"Hey bro, grab your backpack, let's go to school" — Miguel said, throwing the backpack against Keene's rigid body, waking up to life, as his father would say.

He forgot so much about the world outside his head, that he also ended up forgetting why he was awake so early. School.

"Shit! Miguel, did you do the french work?" — like a light bulb, it lit up his mind. He spent so much time focused on Larusso that he left aside his obligations, like an idiot in love, preferring to remain in the illusion of his own daydreams.

"Yes, I did." — he agreed, transforming his expression into a somewhat confused one, eyebrows drawn together and mouth half open.

"Put my name? Please!" — he asked with a huge pout on his lips, making Diaz understand and laugh loudly at the gesture.

"Okay, but stop making that weird face."

Robby was getting more and more electric as the hours passed, excited for class after lunch. Arts had become one of his recent passions. He loved painting feelings, the most recent being the common mix of love and fear, which he affectionately nicknamed "chocolate and pepper." Love creates artists, it created Robby, and disappointment makes them better. But deep down, I hoped it would continue as an unfinished creation.

Keene continued rambling in his head, and all paths ironically led him to her, to her beautiful hair, penetrating, oblique and hidden gaze. He hated love, he hated being attracted to someone who held him up like a spear, a fucking distraction.

"Where are you looking, Keene?" — Robby's head went straight to the empty food plate, making the blow have a greater impact, his face burned with pain, his throat wanted to scream, but he couldn't.

"Shit Kyler, get out of here you idiot." — Miguel accompanied him.

Kyler had been thinking about the guy with the clear eyes in recent days, vowing to give him a good beating one day, also stating that he would at least see where the blow came from. No sooner said than done. After the crash, he became dizzy, it wasn't like he had the strength to stand up there, his face was fucked up, he lost consciousness, he even lost sight of the fact that one of the shards of glass had flown onto his shoulder. Damn the day he decided to wear a shirt with a loose collar. I lifted the table, still tipping sideways and my vision was blurred, holding his belly, as if that would give him more balance. Kyler saw the biggest opportunity, turned his body and kicked the other person's heel, knocking Robby to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Miguel tried to advance towards the other, but was stopped by the idiots, cowardly held by three people. While struggling, Kyler threw the first kick.

"Oh, Kyler!" — a female voice tore through the place.

There were feelings in the speech, not so positive so to speak, perhaps hatred, anger with a hint of jealousy.

"Only I can mess with my blond." — ran towards the brunette, kicking him away from Keene, his kicks were high, Kyler didn't really know how to attack at that moment, nor did he know if he should, opting to take small steps backwards while using defense.

"Are you such a coward that you can't just slap me?"

He attacked her with hatred, threw her body to the ground and stood on top of her torso, while holding the thin collar of the girl's blouse, ready to throw the first punch. She smiled, not an ordinary smile, a devilish smile, and the surprise came with her tears, a desolate and fearful look.

"What's going on in that cafeteria?" — shouted the director, who with heavy steps walked towards Kyler, taking him off the girl.

Behind him was Daniel, who was helping prepare the dance that night.

"Uncle, I tried to defend my friend, but when I saw..." — he burst into tears, being lifted from the ground by his uncle, who hugged him carefully.

"Fine my love." - Larusso left the girl leaning against one of the tables, heading towards the body of the former apprentice. With compassion the silence against his body, the support between his arms in the most comfortable way he could.

"Are you okay, Robby?" Nothing was said, he was still dizzy from all the blows and the coffee didn't help his anxiety at that moment.

"Uncle, I'm going to take him to the infirmary, okay?"

"Okay, princess, I'm going to go to the principal's office and sort out this mess." — The older man left, while Larusso placed Robby's arm over his shoulders, in order to avoid another contact between the other person's body and the ground.

"Robby, look at me, tell me it's okay." — He requested. "I..." - he paused, completely rethinking that moment.

"Take me to the infirmary straight away."

Without saying anything else, she took him there, the silence killed them, I missed their diverse conversations. In the end, Robby felt a little hurt, beyond the physical.

"Tell me sweetie, why are you like this?" — asked the one with locks, bringing her fingers to the other's injured face. "I know you're strong and you'd take him down whenever you wanted."

"You. I'm like this because of you." — he took his arm away and threw himself on the sofa in the infirmary.

Karla, the nurse, was at least scared by how deformed Keene was, after all, he was at a school where practically every day there were around three students injured after a hidden fight. I'll get the ice. - was the only thing he said before leaving.

"What did I do, Robby"

"Everything, just answer me one thing before I tell you to leave this room and leave me alone." — He shouted. He was more upset than actually angry, in order to just take her away from his mind and heart for a few minutes.

"Am I what to you? Cheap fun, love." — he laughed to himself. "forget the last part, I must be some idiot that you only catch when you feel like it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" — he raised his right eyebrow.

"I love you so much, and look, if I didn't show you signs of that, it's because I'm insecure. Robby, you have anyone at your feet, your exes are incredibly perfect, they fight well, they are beautiful... " —she sat next to him.

"I'm afraid of not being good enough like they were."

"I should slap you for thinking like that." — he joked.

Not that he had the courage to lift a finger at her, he loved her in a ridiculous way, which sometimes found it strange.

"I love you, I love you in a way that I've never loved anyone else and you can bet that you're the only one I want to have in my life, or better yet, build one."

"I called him, I'm not good enough to fight someone experienced yet." — she laughed, throwing his body against hers, to create a hug.

"You're over the top, Keene." — she leaned his torso, kissing the wound on the older man's face close to the wound.

"No, I'm just ridiculously in love with the new girl. In fact, how did you know the director was coming?"

"Needy. For you." - they laughed.

"Look, you kicked very well, I was quite jealous of what the highs were."

"I don't even know how I did that, I just wanted to protect you at any cost."

"Damn girl. I love you so much that I could go to hell just for you."

he didn't want hell, he wanted heaven, the roof of her mouth, to calm her busy and stressful days. The calm kiss, full of desire and passion no longer repressed, was everything they wanted and what they finally got.

[akira-dulbar]

The life you left behind

4/3: Discoveries and chaos, but also decisions

part1 part2 part3 part5

Summary: You see a man following you and your son, but that's all it is. What does your alleged stalker really think? Also, chaos erupts in the Wayne family.

Warning: stalking, mention of death.

------

Lately, you've felt like someone's been watching you, not just you but your son as well. But that wasn't the strange thing. You lived in Gotham, so this kind of thing wasn't surprising. What was really strange was that he didn't do anything. He didn't threaten you. You didn't expect me to let my guard down to hurt you and your son, nothing.

All of this happened after the encounter with Red Hood, or maybe before; you didn't know for sure.

He just stood there, a few steps away, following you like he was your personal bodyguard, protecting you from reckless danger. Which was weird and frustrating. Why did he do it? Was there a reason for him? Besides, it wasn't like you could face him. You didn't even know what he looked like. Which made the situation worse. He was like a ghost. You couldn't see him, but you could feel him, and it was somewhat uncomfortable.

Every time you wanted to confront him, you turned around. Magically, you couldn't feel his presence anymore, and you only saw people passing by, but you knew it wasn't any of them. Another was that when you turned a corner, you stood there, hoping that when he turned around, he'd immediately run into you. But that didn't happen either, since either someone passed by and went the other way, or no one turned the corner with you.

But you knew he was there, and you could prove it. One of those cases was when you were at the store with your son, Peter. You were trying to reach the 8-roll pack of toilet paper because you were out of stock. For some stupid reason, the workers thought it was a good idea to put those packs on the highest shelves where only Superman could reach them. In any case while you were trying to catch up with him, Peter kept running from one side to the other, which made your hair stand on end since you couldn't do two things at once, so when Peter turned the corner to go to the other aisle, without hesitation you followed him forgetting the package of paper and your cart with your purchases, when you returned to Peter who was reluctantly contrasting you with the surprise of the paper was in the cart and not on the high shelf that you couldn't reach, when you approached you were also surprised by the fact that there were also other things you needed but you hadn't put them in the cart yet along with a few dollars to pay, that was certainly strange and for some reason you knew it had been him.

Another case was when you were reading a book to your son in his room, Peter was lying in bed ready to sleep with his Wonder Woman stuffed animal while you were sitting next to him reading, for some reason you looked up at the window for a moment, but it was just when you saw a nest of black hair with eyes that you didn't know if they were blue-green or neon green, in any case you screamed like a crazy woman while the man's eyes opened and the sound of hurried footsteps fleeing down the fire stairs was heard, you remember running to see if you could see him, but to your surprise and horror you saw nothing, at first you thought it was your downstairs neighbor, but he was blond, not black-haired, because you reinforced the security of the windows and closed the curtains, and why not go to the police, you're easily in Gotham, don't be surprised. And how did you know it was a man and not a woman? No idea, but you had the idea it was a man. I don't want to be prejudiced, but there was something that definitely told you it was a man.

But you quickly realized it wasn't dangerous—well, not for you or your son, but for others, and here are some other examples.

There was once a time when your neighbor Frank's friend who lived downstairs moved in with him because his girlfriend kicked him out, God knows why, but you thought it was because of his personality. He wouldn't stop insulting his ex-girlfriend for kicking him out just because she slept with his mother. When you heard it for the first time, it horrified you and left you completely perplexed. You tried to keep your son from getting close to him in any way. He wasn't the example you wanted your son to see of men, but for some reason he wouldn't leave you alone, always cornering you at any moment and making comments that ranged from flirtatious to inappropriate for the general public. You almost cried when your son asked you what they meant. That's what you wanted to avoid, but everything reached a breaking point when he insinuated that he could be a father to your child. No, absolutely not, you told him bluntly, which he didn't like and he got a little violent but you managed. You easily escaped and ran away, the next day your neighbor Frank was at your door apologizing for him and saying that his friend would be moving out at the end of the day, that he would never show up again, which made you completely relieved, but then he said something that left you puzzled but at the same time confirmed your assumptions.

"Hey, could you tell your boyfriend that since my friend is leaving, there's no need to come back into my apartment or say anything about the drugs?" Frank looked nervous, tired, and very scared, but you could only blink at what he said.

"What?" you said after a while, puzzled about your supposed boyfriend and some drugs.

"I mean, if I had known you had a boyfriend the size of a mountain, I wouldn't have let anything happen. I swear, please don't say anything about the drugs." You could see Frank rambling on about the drugs and your supposedly terrifying boyfriend the size of Texas, but you just stared at him, perplexed.

Then you found out his friend had a broken rib and both his right arm and leg were in casts, and that was just one of the cases.

-------

Jason hated being in the mansion, maybe not as much as before, but he still didn't like it very much. That's why when Dick asked him if he wanted to help organize some things, he said no. But when Alfred told him to come and that he would give him some of his delicious cookies as a reward, he didn't hesitate for a minute.

In any case, he was there, in his adoptive father's office, helping with his brothers to organize the mess he had.

"For someone who dresses as a bat at night and solves cases, this place is a mess." Jason could see the boxes full of messy papers waiting to be opened and organized.

"Unfortunately, there was a time when Master Bruce neglected his responsibilities; this is just the result of that carelessness." Alfred was standing by the door with a glass of juice for one of the roommates.

"Father, this isn't the kind of carelessness the world's greatest detective should have." Damian was sitting in Bruce's office chair, with Alfred the cat lying on his lap as if he belonged there.

"I have to say I'm not proud of this mess." Bruce was sitting on the floor with a pile of papers and boxes around him, stuffing some papers into a box and sorting through other papers to see what was inside.

"Anyway, how did this mess come about?" Dick was standing right next to Bruce, with the same mess around him, doing the same thing Bruce was doing.

"Well, Master Dick, first it was when he was just starting out as Batman that he left some responsibilities behind, then it was his adoption, and finally the death of Master Jason." There was a moment of silence for that last bit of information. Jason remained silent as he continued organizing papers while the others looked at each other, knowing that this subject was somewhat delicate.

Seeing the silence growing and the tension rising, Bruce was the next to speak.

"Anyway, I appreciate you coming to help me with this, knowing you might have had something better to do."

"Hey, don't worry, B. We didn't have anything better to do, right guys?" Dick turned to look at his brothers.

"Yes, I do." "Me too." "Of course."

"Oh, please." Dick looked at the three of them as he spoke. "What did you have to do?"

"Finish a case." Tim was the first to speak, but Alfred quickly silenced him.

"I remind you, Tim, that you needed to take a break from those activities; too much of it isn't good for your health." Alfred handed Tim an iced tea while scolding him for not getting enough sleep.

"Practice." Damien was the second to speak, but he wasn't spared either.

"Damian, we already talked about that. No practicing after lunch," Bruce gently reprimanded his son as he continued sorting papers.

"But, Father," "No, Damian, I already said no." Damian just crossed his arms and grumbled.

"And you, Jason?" Dick looked back at his second-born brother.

"Checking on Peter and his mom," Jason shrugged as he closed one box and reached for another to open it.

"So, being a stalker," Tim said, sipping on his iced tea.

"Look who's talking, replacement. Between you and me, you're the stalker. I'm just checking on them." Jason pulled a stack of unopened letters out of the box and laid them on the floor.

"That's still stalking. Just because you change the name to something more aesthetically pleasing doesn't mean it's not the same." Tim quickly dodged the box that was headed for his head.

"Guys, guys, don't get carried away." Dick raised his arms in a gesture of peace to calm the atmosphere.

"And what else do you want me to do in place of yours? It's not like I can just show up at her door and say, 'Hey, remember me? I was the man you thought was dead and the father of your child. How have you been?' She's going to call the police." Jason snorted as he looked at the cards in his hand, sorting them out one by one for organization.

"Also, considering you don't physically resemble the boy you were when you were 15." Like Jason, Damian sorted the cards out one by one.

Everyone knew Damian was right. Jason no longer physically resembled the child he once was. Thanks to the Lazarus Pit, if he approached you, you'd probably be scared stiff.

Jason couldn't help but remember the time you saw him that night. You screamed loudly and scared while you watched him through his son's bedroom window. He didn't mean to. He got distracted and scared you stiff. Now, every time he went to check on you, The curtains were closed, and he couldn't see them now, which frustrated him greatly.

He also didn't forget that idiot who assumed you were Peter's father figure. He has to say he saw green after that. That idiot was sexually harassing you so blatantly, right in front of his son. He had no shame, but thank God he took care of it. That idiot had no right to do any of that, nor to flirt with you like that and insinuate that he was Peter's father. Peter was his son, he had that right, not him. He wasn't the father, he was…

Jason was Peter's father… But how could he be a father if not even Peter knew of his existence? Neither of you knew he was alive, and that he knew about you, that he could be in your lives, but not even that… Maybe it was fear? That you'd be angry with him? That you wouldn't stop seeing Peter? No, it wasn't that… It was fear of getting you involved… getting you involved in a life you didn't want, of taking away the peace and quiet you had because of the selfishness of being in their lives. And worst of all, if you and Peter started to hate him because of it, maybe it would ruin Peter. Maybe he wouldn't be a great father, he wouldn't be a good father, he wouldn't be…

Jason stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the letter in his hand.

Your name was written on the letter.

Jason quickly opened the letter and began to read.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bruce. I hope these words find you in a moment of reflection and calm. I'm writing to you with a mixture of fear and determination. Before I tell you what I want to tell you, I want you to know that my heart is beating with news that could change everything. I'd like you to know that I'm pregnant with Jason's baby (No, this isn't a joke). I know this may come as a shock to you, and I understand. The truth is, I'm scared and I don't know what to do. I'm worried about the baby's future and how I'm going to take care of it, or if I'd even want to take care of it at all. I'm still undecided. I want us to be able to talk about what's happening. I know you have a lot of questions, and I'll answer them all. Even if you don't believe me, I'll do everything to prove it's true. I just want to talk. I'm not asking for anything more, I just don't know what to do.

With all due respect.

(Your name)"

Jason's color has drained. This can't be real. You had written to Bruce and told him about the baby. Jason looked at the other cards. Some of them also had your name, your fucking name. Jason thought he was going to faint, he started to tense up.

"Master Jason, are you okay?" Alfred approached Jason while he just tensed up.

"Jason?" Everyone turned to look at Jason, while he just stood there.

Everyone was surprised when Jason suddenly stood up and walked over to Bruce, standing in front of him.

"Jason?…!!!!!" Bruce was surprised when Jason grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up. By this point, everyone had already stood up, disturbed by Jason's outburst.

"You old idiot, what does this mean?" Jason flashed the cards in Bruce's face. Bruce could only open his eyes and skim the card.

"Jason, what's wrong?" Dick tried to grab Jason's shoulder, but was quickly pushed away.

"Dick, this is what's going on." Jason let go of Bruce and flashed the card in Bruce's face, surprising Dick.

"Because of this fucking mess and his carelessness, he didn't know she was pregnant. For God's sake, Dick, do you know what that means?" Jason began to speak louder, as he handed the letter to Dick, who, along with Tim, read it as they lost their color, turning into ghosts.

"She told him about the pregnancy, but he didn't even take the time to read it," Jason began to shout at this point.

"Jason, I swear I didn't know," Bruce tried to speak, but was quickly silenced by Jason.

"Oh, of course you didn't know. Do you have any idea how she must have felt when you didn't answer? How scared she must have been? That you might have thought she was a liar? Crazy, even?" Jason began to push Bruce while pointing out his mistake.

"Jason, please calm down." Dick grabbed Jason, pushing him away from Bruce. Bruce was holding his head with one hand while the other held him so he wouldn't faint.

"Calm down? Calm down? For God's sake, Dick, Bruce could have helped her, so she wouldn't have to be alone, or I don't know, do something else."

"You don't know that, Jason," Tim shouted so Jason could hear him.

"I don't know! Both you and Bruce are up to your necks in money, and you're going to tell me Bruce wouldn't have helped her?"

"Todd, that's not what Drake meant."

"Then what did he mean? Because that didn't sound like anything else to me."

"Jason, I think you should calm down before you say something you'll regret."

"Fuck you, Dick," Jason shouted as he walked loudly to the door, leaving the office and leaving the others in the office.

Jason just walked toward a place he knew would calm him down.

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

Jason was in the cafeteria across from his son's kindergarten. It was almost dismissal time, and Jason was hoping to see his son.

"Can I sit here?" Jason looked up from the window at his father and nodded, while Bruce sat across from him, also facing the window.

"So this is it, right?" Jason nodded again without looking at Bruce.

"Jason, I…" Bruce paused for a moment to speak.

"When you died, I didn't want to know anything else." Jason turned to look at his father.

"I was lost. I got away from everything. I didn't know how to navigate properly, and because of that, I couldn't understand what was going on around me." Bruce turned to look at his son.

"It's not your fault," Jason sighed as he lay down on the cafeteria table.

"You were grieving at the time… it's not your fault, you had the right to be that way." Jason sighed again, but Bruce didn't speak, encouraging him to keep talking.

"I don't know what to do. I just met my son and… everything is new to me, I don't really know what to do, and I don't want to ruin it." I don't want to be a bad father. Those were words left unspoken but perfectly understood.

"I know how you feel," Jason turned to look into Bruce's eyes. "I didn't meet Damian until he was several years old. And at first, I felt the same as you. I felt lost and didn't know what to do."

"How did you do it?"

"Well, at first it was difficult. But Dick and Alfred helped me a lot. They taught me to be patient and understand his needs."

"And now Damian is more open and less violent. I realized I wasn't alone, thanks to them."

"I feel like I'm not capable of doing the same." I'm afraid of ruining it for him and his mother." Jason rubbed his eyes as he looked down.

"Jason, you're not going to ruin it. You're going to learn and grow with them. And you're not alone. I'm here to help you, and your siblings can be a big help too. The most important thing is that you don't give up; you'll do great. Be patient with yourself, with your son, and with his mother. And if you remember that love and dedication are what matter most, then you'll do well." Bruce puts a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Jason, no one is ready to be a father. But what matters is that you're willing to learn and do what's best for your child." Bruce smiles as he turns toward the window.

"Besides, don't you think they deserve to decide if they want you in their lives?" Jason turns to see his son being carried by you as the two of you smile at them. He watches as you kiss your son on the forehead and hug him tightly.

"Yes, you're right. Thanks, Dad." Bruce just smiles.

"You're welcome, son." The two of you watch as you walk off with your son safely toward your apartment, while Jason has a look of determination.

-------

I have to thank @1abi because his comment on my 3rd post immediately gave me an idea and I literally wrote all of this today, thank you very much.

@mev-fizzah-writes (I don't know how to label haha)

Well, I don't know much English.

[sicko4smut]

Everybody’s A Suspect! | B. Floyd

synopsis: A string of murders in the fall of ‘84 in a small town shakes the residents of WoodSprings to their core

warnings: violence, murder, eventual smut, gore, porn with a whole lot of plot, inaccuracies of the 80s (have mercy), personal head cannons of characters/dynamics, dubious consent, pushy male characters who can’t take no, bullying, physical harm, other warnings i can’t think of right now

PSA- i do not own any characters, names, ideas, or royalties of the ‘Scream Franchise’ or ‘Top Gun Maverick’

CHAPTERS

📼 1.1 - A Body…In WoodSprings?

PLAYLIST 📻 (no particular order)

The Perfect Girl - Mareux

Dark Red - Steve lacey

Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell

Hidden In The Sand - Tally Hall

The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley

Smooth Criminal- Micheal Jackson

Arms Tonite - Mother Mother

Sippy Cup - Melanie Martinez

Headlock - Imogen Heap

♪♫♪

─•────

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

MEET THE CHARACTERS

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 🏈 - Jake Seresin as ‘Dumb Jock’

* Jake is captain of the football team and son of the town’s mayor, super rich boy vibes

* Wholeheartedly believes you and him should be together because he is captain of football team and your cheer captain

* All brawns no brain up there, his poor skull is sitting there collecting dust and head trauma from getting tackled one too many times. 🏆 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ ࿔

🎸⋆⭒˚｡- Bradley Bradshaw as ‘Punk Outcast’

* Rooster is a free-spirited, rule-less, angsty, outcast

* Stays to himself and rarely ever talks, seriously no one has heard the guy say more than three words since high school

* working to put himself through college even though the stress from college and work is kinda making him flunk out

* Butts heads with Jake, two sides of different coins mixed with egos, passive aggression, and LOTS of testosterone leading to many physical fights between the boys. ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚

☥🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ - Nat as ‘Freak Loner’

* Out of her nerdy, timid shell from high school and free as can be…Natasha has voiced her disdain for all oppressive nature and love of the unknown, terrifying, and paranormal.

* She doesn’t feel the need to pretend to be uninterested in her education to fit her aesthetic when all is said and done, Natasha wants something to call her own and a degree is just that. So she’s willing to swallow her pride on how the world forces you into school for years right into the capitalist system of working for even longer before screwing you over even more the longer you let them..though she sure won’t be quiet about it

* But don’t be fooled by her dark makeup, passionate outburst, and spooky demeanor as hard she tries to bury her, that nerdy timid girl within Nat keeps kicking no matter how hard she beats her down. 𓉸ྀི ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ -You as ‘The Town’s Sweetheart’

* You never wanted for anything in life for as long as you could remember, born with a silver spoon in your mouth however you were never snotty about it…never let it get to your head

* Miss goody-two-shoes as you were called was always the first one to volunteer your help whenever needed, first to be picked for the cheer team, first to speak up when someone was being bullied, first place in the Woodsprings beauty pageant, Prom Queen, Co-class president, captain of dance committee. It was all honestly a little overboard but you loved it all, love how busy it made you and how you were praised by seemingly everyone around you.

* Your family being the second wealthiest people in Woodsprings (thank you mommy and daddy) it was a given you never worried about how you were going to pay for college, the thought never crossing your mind until you overhear some peers complaining about how THREE jobs weren’t even enough to cover book fees so they would have to go to the local community college instead…it left you with an odd feeling never really having had the chance to acknowledge your privilege °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⊹₊⟡⋆ 🔪 - Bob Floyd as ‘Ghostface’

* The man of the hour, our beloved robby. Fed up with being bullied and patronized, bob fights back…he didn’t mean for the guy to die but he would be lying is he said he didn’t like the silence that came with one less of those losers gone.

* Sweet boy who lives with his single mother trying to help her pay bills by working a variety of on campus jobs, from handyman to security to library assistant…anything that pays to lighten the load off her back

* Geek Charming in the flesh, bob but always robby to you has always been super smart which is why he was head of chess club, class president, and valedictorian in high school and awarded a full-ride scholarship to Woodsprings University

* Robby has had a crush on you since the first grade, it’s honestly a mix between creepy and embarrassing how bad he had it for you but you rarely noticed him anyway. When you did seem to remember his existence you were always so sweet just like he knew you to be his sweet girl

🪓 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

• This a masterlist/promotion for a WIP soon to be fic

• All actual chapters will be published on my main account @smutmaniac

• Please like and reblog

[daiourage]

TFO Dual Rulers (?) AU

I've been seeing people do like a "what if D didn't go fuckin' coconuts" AU, and it kinda inspired me to start thinking of what other events would be changed in those scenarios.

(yes i'm still in denial)

Please take these lightly colored sketches!!! Also I'm sorry for lazy handwriting;;

Also also, as always, please click/press the image for quality!!!

("Brief" explanations for each of the numbered panels is under the cut (the numbers are just the order of when I drew them, and not in chronological order of the scenes)!!!)

1. I think, because D won't be the one to shoot at Sentinel because he's grounded in this AU, Sentinel would be the one to use the last of his strength to try and shoot at D, only for Orion to block it. I couldn't figure out how to draw D in immense agony about it so I just decided to make this paper a collection of ideas. If anyone has any ideas, please tell me because I want angst--//shot (I also finally remembered to write my signature this time!!!) 1-2. The main problem I had trouble figuring out was how D would possibly let go of Orion... He'd still say the "Why did you do that, why?!" line, but I don't know where to go from there. Would Sentinel still have energy to kick D's hand? Would Orion be too heavy to hold on? Would Orion tell D to let him go? Maybe they wouldn't even be hanging over the ledge and D would just be holding him--but then what? There was too many things to ponder about just one scene, and I wanted to get my other ideas out before I forgot about them. Guyssss give me your ideas please-- 2. It always bothered me that Orion and Bee left D in Sentinel's office(?) to hold him off on his own;;; like, I get it, D won't listen, but at least tell him you're leaving??? 2-2. I think the "What did he do to you?" conversation would be much longer. Not as comical and cheesy as the comic I sketched a little bit back, but... 3. (Please read it right to left;;; I just got done reading manga when I had the idea to draw this panel;;; also the entire page honestly. I'm so sorry y'all--)At the High Guards' base, I think D'd be the one to initiate a fight with Starscream still, but do it calmly. 4. I wanted to keep this line, because it would make sense still. Also might hurt a little more *screams* (D would not do the Anime Girl Pose™️, but I wanted him and Orion to match oop--) 5. After apprehending Sentinel, somehow we'd get his (Megatronus's) cog and Orion (now Optimus) would give it to D as a token of trust. Based off of @/momonsalmonmon on Twitter/X's absolutely gorgeous comics!!! (I also DO NOT remember how the cogs looked I'm sorry for not doing further research ;w; Will do better next time I promise;;;) 6. Bee and Soundwave BFFs???? (+ annoyed Shockwave) Please. Also maybe bring back Senator Soundwave as a concept??? Miss he;; It might be interesting, with Bee also "working for the government" now,,, (Edit: 2/7/2025): Hi. just realized my typo and it's been months. Guys. It's Senator Shockwave guys. Why didn't y'all tell me;;;; I knew who I was thinking of I promise;;; guys please don't nod along to this and just ignore my huge ass typo 😭 (thank you for the support though but OH MY GOD) (Edit: 3/3/2025): GUYS. I FORGOT THEY WERE BOTH SENATORS AT SOME POINT (in different comics though but) GUYS. I'M A PUSHOVER. THEY CAN BOTH BE GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS AS A TREAT AJSDLKFAJLKSDJFLKA I'm a fraud ;w;)b 7. Headcanon that Orion is bad at math and confides in Elita and D for enforcing the taxes so the citizens don't become outraged but also so that the government has enough money to do stuff. D might be like "Aww he needs our help" and Elita would be like "godddd let me work out" 7-2. I feel like I draw Elita with an annoyed expression too much I'm so sorry milady;;; I promise I love you;;;

[roseyodditea]

Hello, I really love your Harumasas work! I hope you always stay healthy and happy! May I request Harumasa x reader which Harumasa first time caught up reader doing cutting/selfharm? He's really good at comforting people who's suicidal, I think he's good at comforting his BF/GF who's suicidal too ...

I tried to write this more from Harumasa's perspective and left the reader's mental health issues vague in order to attempt to comfort the most amount of people. I remember how comforting fics like this were when I was in the throws of my mental health problems. I hope I did it justice

At Least for the Night - Harumasa x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1.5k words. Harumasa comforts you once he deduces a secret you were trying to hide. Warnings -> Self harm, injuries, blood, medical supplies, please protect your peace and skip this fic if you need to

Harumasa crouched in front of your bathroom sink, digging around for the bandages you said were in there. A wound from a Hollow opened up while you two were having a dinner date at your apartment and he wanted to clean it up before he risked infection. He reached for the first aid kit and opened it, his instincts from being surrounded by medical supplies kicking into high gear. He grabbed the ointment and the wrap bandages and something in his mind screamed in alarm, but he was a bit preoccupied to notice what it was. 

He was used to the cold feeling of the cream on the wound on his arm, and he was quick to wrap it before neatly repacking the first aid kit. It wasn’t until he closed the lid that his brain finally caught up to what he subconsciously noticed. He opened the kit back up, his eyes scanning over every supply. They all matched the brand of the kit, all being used at an expected rate for someone like you… but the bandages. He flipped through the adhesive bandages again, noticing a lot of the ones left were the smaller, unusable ones of about six different brands. The bigger ones were all used up, and the roll of cloth bandages was a different brand from every single adhesive one he found. 

Harumasa sat on your bathroom floor, his mind going into overdrive as he tried to think of a logical reason for this. The first aid kit was less than a year old going off of the packaging of the lesser used supplies, but you seemed to go through so many bandages. He stared intently as he washed his hands, scanning your bathroom sink for any hints. He looked for anything that would hint why you’d need so many bandages. Blood thinners maybe? Childrens bathroom supplies in case you had a niece or a nephew that were a bit clumsy? He tried not to let himself get caught up on it. He dried his hands before he closed the kit and slipped it back under the sink, standing up and walking back to the kitchen where you were cleaning up after dinner. 

He felt bad being as scrutinizing as he was, but his eyes scanned you, that cold and calculating look of a scout covering up the normally soft look you say from your boyfriend. You glanced back, a bit uneasy with how he was staring at you. “Uhh.. You found them alright?” You ask, desperately trying to break the tension.

“Yeah. I found your bandages. A lot of bandages, actually.” He said, his interrogation tactics he had learned from Section Six starting to shine uncomfortably in the safe environment of the apartment you had worked so hard to curate. 

“Is that a problem?” “Do you have something to tell me?” He stepped close, making you feel trapped against the sink. 

“Haru, what’s going on?” You tried to change the subject defensively, shifting and trying to ignore the way your pants scraped against the semi fresh scabs hidden underneath. 

Harumasa softened a bit, letting out a breath. “I’m just worried. I’ve been surrounded by doctors all my life and I’d like to know if my absolutely lovely partner was having some health complications.” He eased up and took your hand before kissing it, slyly watching the way your sleeve fell naturally. Seeing nothing, he knew he’d have to change his tactic. 

“No health complications. Just clumsy I guess.” You respond, turning back to the sink. Harumasa wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder, watching you wash dishes. He didn’t say anything else, just… watching. “Are you alright?” Even if he didn’t have hard evidence, Harumasa had been recognizing the signs for a while now. He prayed he was wrong and just paranoid, but the bandages were the last nail in the coffin of his suspicions. He held you tighter and hid his face in your neck. “I love you. I’d be devastated without you.” You froze, wondering if he actually knew or if it was a wild guess. “What are you-” “Don’t. Please don’t lie to me.” He pleaded, genuinely emotional. “You don’t have to defend yourself, you don’t have to explain a thing, you don’t even have to promise you won’t do it again. Look, (y/n), I get it, I do. But I want you to be better, and I know that can’t happen overnight. So let’s take it one step at a time. Are you alright with that?”

Tears gathered in your eyes no matter how much you tried to will them away. Having this… angel leaning on your shoulder, holding out a hand to help you felt so terrifying. “I… I don’t know the steps. I don’t know what to do.” “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you’re alright taking it one step at a time.” He comforted, squeezing you close. “Do you want to change? That’s the first step.”

“I want to get better.” Your voice cracks out weakly, your hands starting to shake around the plate you were rinsing off. Harumasa took it out of your hands and kissed your cheek gently. 

“Good. Good… Do you currently have any injuries?” You nod hesitantly, not fighting back as he turns off the sink and leads you to sit on the couch. He rubbed different shapes on your shoulder. Square, circle, triangle, back to square. He repeated the pattern a couple times before switching the order, giving you something grounding to focus on. He took your hand and placed it on his chest and took deep breaths, helping you focus on your own breathing. 

“Can you tell me where they are?” He asked, his golden eyes filled with tenderness, not an ounce of judgement. Even as you gestured to your thighs, he didn’t look at you with pity. “Can I see them? Touch them?” He asked and let out a breath as you nodded. You shimmied out of your pants so he could see the hastily thrown on bandages. He lifted one of the cloth wrappings around your thigh to peek and nodded. “You stay right here. I’m going to go grab the first aid kit and show you how to take care of them properly, okay?” Once again you nodded, more tears spilling. 

He came back and sank to his knees in front of the couch, gingerly unwrapping and removing every bandage so he could see the old, new, and scarred cuts across your thighs. He assessed the damage before depositing some of the topical antibiotic onto his fingers, gently rubbing it over every scab and open wound. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be lecturing me? Telling me never to do this again? And how I’m hurting the people around me?” You tried to steel yourself, pushing down those tears and building your mental walls back up. 

“I suppose I could, but I don’t think that would be very beneficial.” He said gently. “I’m more worried about harm reduction right now. If you’re set on hurting yourself, taking away everything you have to do it with will just lead to you getting creative and dangerous. I’d rather make sure you know how to care for injuries so you don’t risk infection. We can work on breaking these habits later. One baby step at a time.”

Silence hung too comfortably for the circumstance. You expected more yelling and disappointment when he learned this about you. You expected him to leave and never turn back. You expected anything but this wonderfully gentle man taking care of you with a tenderness you never thought anyone would show you. More tears spilled down your cheeks, but this wasn’t the hot, suffocating tears you tried to choke back earlier, but instead warm tears full of a feeling you had only dreamed of. 

“Can you stay tonight?” The question didn’t even finish leaving your mouth before Harumasa nodded. He tugs the bandages into place, making sure they were more secure than the last set you had hastily thrown on. He sat on the couch and opened his arms, happily accepting you and all your baggage into his loving embrace. 

“Of course. I’ll stay the night and I’ll hold you or just sit next to you or whatever you need.” He reassured, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you into him. 

“I think… I just need you for now. At least for the night.” You mumbled against his chest, happy to relax against him. 

“Well, unfortunately for you, you’ve got me for a lot longer than just one measly night.” He smiled as he heard a soft chuckle leave your lips. 

Hotlines for different countries -> https://blog.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines

A/N -> Remember there's always avenues to get help or support no matter what stage of life you're at. Stay strong, and remember even a single spec of improvement is still improvement! <3

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

[venomous-qwille]

You might have gotten this question before- if so I’m sorry- but I just want to know how you do it!!

Every chapter you write is of such high quality, and so long too! There’s so many intricate bits and pieces working together! I’m re-reading GITM from the start again, and with knowledge from later chapters it just- gah! It plays into itself so so well!!

How do you stick with it?? How do you keep putting out banger after banger without slowing down? I’ve always had a hard time with sticking to projects and lengthier things, so to see GITM is like utter magic to me /pos

Hope you have a wonderful day!

Ahhh thankyou so much!

Honestly? It's cause I have the entire story planned out. What you see in GITM at the moment is the very tip of a very large iceberg and oh my GOD I want to get to the meat of the story so bad. I want to share Sol's backstory, I want Ruin to wake up and immediately announce Cricket is his best friend! I want you to meet Sombra, I want to introduce Harvest, I want to show Cricket coming into their own, I want to get to them confronting Harry (for better or worse). I want them to remember Clip! I want to write the scene where they finally recall all their memories of him- I want to write that embrace with my whole fucking soul. I want to write Sol realising that he has the capacity for feelings. I want to write Fool discovering that he is The Main Character, actually. I want to break everyone's hearts with Noon's backstory. With Security's backstory. I want to make people HATE certain characters and then learn to love them as Cricket decides to drag those characters kicking and screaming into the light. I want the robots to realise their human friend never had a childhood. I want them to try and make up for lost time. I want Misuta to realise the difference between the love that exists in books and the kind of love you have to choose in real life. I want Sunspot to let himself fucking HEAL. I want I want I want. I want to smooch the robots, so bad. But to do all of that I have to write the fucking fic so.... I best get off tumblr and back on google docs.

Let me be clear: this is pure magnum opus hyperfixation. I cannot get off this train. I need to tell this story or I might die.

[wileys-russo]

ausenal ‘can you just not sit still?’ travelling to London

steph catley, caitlin foord, kyra cooney-cross

"one two three four, i declare a thumb war!" you chanted, hand locked with kyras as the two of you grunted and struggled. "oh my god." steph mumbled, massaging her temples as the four of you sat in dubai airport for your layover.

"how the fuck are the two of you not tired? you did not shut up or sleep that entire flight!" caitlin groaned from beside her, head resting on her fist as you and kyra ignored them.

"winner!" you screamed happily, jumping on top of the brunette. "ow! steph." you scowled as the defender harshly smacked the back of your calf. "its four thirty in the morning here and people are clearly trying to rest. shut up!" the girl warned sternly nodding to a few other passengers curled up in chairs not far from you.

"that doesn't count we're on aussie time!" kyra slung her arm around you with a scoff. "yeah! and on aussie times its...eleven thirty seven in the morning." you checked your phone and grinned, steph only letting out a deep sigh.

"how much longer till we board?" she mumbled to caitlin. "four and a half hours." the striker answered with a sigh of her own. "we could always drug them, i'm sure theres a pharmacy somewhere in here." steph muttered, both girls seeming to contemplate the idea for a moment before abandoning it with a shake of their heads.

"oh i have cards! lets play." you remembered, swinging your backpack off and rummaging through before you found them, kyra sitting cross legged on the floor beside you.

"come on!" you pinched stephs ankle as she jolted awake and shot you a glare. "works best with four people." you shook the packet at her as kyra had successfully harassed caitlin into playing.

"one game, thats it."

though with all four of your competitive tendencies kicking in, one game quickly became five, and then ten. steph tapping out as they announced your connecting flight was delayed a further three and a half hours due to an engine issue.

"oh you've gotta be fucking kidding." caitlin groaned, you and kyra quite unbothered as you packed away the cards. "ky and i are gonna go find food." you dropped your backpack on top of steph who grunted and pushed it off with an annoyed huff, the two of you racing off before she could say another word.

"do you reckon they accept aussie dollars?" kyra realised as the two of you stood in front of a vending machine, all of the food kiosks closed for another hour due to the time. "no but they should accept this." you grinned plucking your debit card out of your pocket.

"what! i thought steph took yours? caitlins got mine." kyra groaned, the two of you having had your 'pocket money' privileges revoked after you'd decided to buy out basically the entire vending machine at camp, most of which was shared with harper and harley and caused a sugar high chaos.

"sticky fingers ky, sticky fingers." you smirked, having swiped it out of stephs wallet when she was distracted. "oh like in home alone! the sticky bandits." kyra beamed, having admitted to never having seen the movie you'd forced her to watch a whole stack of christmas films over camp.

"see! and you thought you didn't need a christmas movie education."

"jesus christ we're here for a few more hours not a few days!" caitlin shook her head as you and kyra returned, arms laden with all sorts of treats both sweet and savory. "you are not eating anything that has sugar in it before the flight, over my dead body." steph warned sternly, making quick work to try and snatch everything she deemed a danger.

little did they know you and kyra had assumed this would be the case, the majority of the sweet treats hidden away in pockets, kyras bum bag or on your persons.

"do we stop them?" caitlin sighed, wedged into the chair beside steph as you and kyra took off again to explore. "no, if they run off their energy now maybe they'll actually sleep this next flight." steph pointed out, hopeful but realistic that likely wouldn't happen.

so they left the two of you to it, grateful you'd finally left them be much as they worried what the two of you were up to, the last thing they needed was to have to bail you out of trouble with security in another country let alone in dubai.

"where the hell are they? the flight boards in five minutes!" steph stressed, trying both of your phones again which rang out. those five minutes passed, then another ten, and with seconds to spare before they considered just leaving the two of you behind suddenly you and kyra skidded around the corner into view.

"sorry! we got lost and then kyra-" you started to explain but with a murderous look from both your older team mates you fell silent, accepting your bag which was shoved into your chest and silently filing onto the plane after them.

"no! you two are being separated." steph warned as you tried to sit beside kyra, frowning and moving the seat behind so you were next to steph instead.

getting through takeoff both you and kyra were quiet, steph and caitlin both praying that meant you had indeed tired yourselves out. but as the seatbelt sign went off and steph had just started to doze off she heard you moving about, tossing and turning and huffing.

"can you just not sit still?" the defender groaned tiredly, head turning to shoot you a look as you sent her a sheepish smile. "i'm not tired!" you shrugged honestly. "watch a movie or something then, just be quiet. please!" the older girl sighed deeply as you nodded.

it seemed to have worked as steph began to doze off, but the very obvious opening of a packet of something caused her to shoot back up, catching you in the act of shoving a chocolate bar in your mouth.

"give it." steph warned, holding her hand out as you sighed and handed it over. "all of them." the girl shot you a firm look as you deflated and grabbed out the bag, watching with a broken heart as steph hid them away in her own luggage.

"you know steffy you are the worst travel buddy ever." "funny, could say the exact same about you kid. now be quiet, please!"

[damiansgoodgirll]

 hi, can you please make a story where reader is young like 19 or 20 and everyone loves her and she’s a pretty close friend with basically everyone in the wwe and one day she has a match with like Nia or someone else and she gets injured so bad that everyone around her is worried sick.? maybe she has a closer feeling with the judgement day or Jey but like if you can mention more wrestlers it would be amazing. Thank you so much. I love your writing 

i love this type of requests cause it makes me travel back in time when i was 13 and i used to play wrestling with my best friend (don’t do this at home) and i remember everyone loving me…anyway

sorry for making nia the bad one!

the judgment day x reader (platonic) / jey uso x reader (platonic)

home is where you belong

you never thought you would find it but you did. the place where you felt safe and loved, the place that you called home.

you’ve been wrestling since you were fifteen and once you got eighteen wwe signed you in. two years later now you were living your dream;

travelling from city to city, having sleepovers with your wrestling friends, gossiping about what people you shipped together, talking nonsense with seth rollins and having becky teasing him, watching and learning new techniques from jey uso, training with the judgment day.

everything was a dream for you.

the fans loved you. even if they weren’t fans about your character, they still liked your persona and your positive energy. you had no enemies, you pretended of course, but you had no enemies at all.

many elders took you under their protective wing and you couldn’t be more grateful.

you we are currently training with rhea as you had a big match against nia and you wanted to be ready. you both already knew that the judgement they were gonna help you win this match because, according to the script they had to ruin this moment for you and for nia, but you didn’t care because you knew how fun it was going to be.

so you were ready to kick her ass.

nia, otherwise, wasn’t as happy as you thought. the idea of losing against some teenager like you made her blood boil. she was more experienced than you so why would you had to win? plus, by getting helped by the judgment day?

she didn’t like the idea but she didn’t tell you.

she had something else in mind.

so you were getting ready, your make up flawless, your hair perfectly posing over your shoulders and a smile that could make happy anyone who met you.

you were so ready.

you heard the “boos” when nia entered the ring and you heard everyone cheering for you when you entered. that’s how it was supposed to be so why did she have an envious look in her eyes?

you pretended it was nothing and you started the match as it was supposed to go.

ten minutes later, the judgment day music echoing through the arena, just like the script said.

rhea distracting nia.

following exactly what the script said.

so what did go wrong?

nia attacked rhea. it wasn’t in the script but rhea knew how to handle situations like that.

you could tell by damian’s look that this wasn’t supposed to happen but you took it as an opportunity to distract nia and make your final move, move that made you win that match.

earlier on the schedule but still, you had your win.

“someone beat your ass…” rhea screamed into the microphone, unleashing mixed reactions through the crowd. everyone cheering for you because of your win, not everyone was happy with the way you won but still, you better than nia.

that set her off.

she didn’t like the idea of a teenager beating her but she hated even more the way the crowd laughed at her face, making her seem weak, not strong enough.

the judgment day were leaving the arena, just like the script told them to do after your victory, so what didn’t go as planned?

you were still in the ring, fans clapping for you, the referee still held your hand high and as you were about the leave, nia hit you behind your back.

this wasn’t prepared.

you fell to your knees and before you could do something she dragged you through your hair into the middle of the ring.

“nia?” you said almost too terrified.

the referee tried to get into the two of you but nia pushed her away, hurting her.

“who do you think you are?” she said hoovering you with her body.

“nia what?” you weren’t understanding. why was she doing that? she was your friend, she wasn’t supposed to hurt you.

“don’t act so dumb…” she whispered before attacking you.

for real this time.

nothing prepared.

she was really hurting you. your face first, then your stomach, she kept hurting you, punching you over and over until you couldn’t feel your body anymore.

your head and nose were bleeding.

referees weren’t able to stop her either.

rhea and damian were the first one to intervene when they saw that the referee couldn’t stop her.

rhea attacking her, the referees, trying to get between the two of them, so damian so that as an opportunity to shield you with his body. he could handle nia attacking him.

“damian?” you almost cried.

“hey…shh it’s okay, i got you” he said, slowly moving your hair out of your face and it was in that moment that he saw your bleeding face.

“dam…it hurts” you said clenching your stomach. he felt his heart breaking. the way you were clenching your chest, the way your hands trembled a little, your bleeding face and your eyes full of tears.

he was mad. furious.

“i know…ssshhh…we will take care of you i promise” he whispered.

the crowd was cheering, assuming everything was scripted, but there was an uncomfortable silence going behind the scenes.

everyone watching what was happening in horror.

becky had tears in her eyes and seth was trying to keep her and himself calm because he was mad. cody was speechless. jey ran out of his locker room just to be stopped by the security. dom and finn paralysed in their steps as they were watching everything happening right before their eyes.

that’s what it went wrong.

thankfully, rhea and referees were able to drag nia away from the ring. she knew she went too far but her pride was something she wasn’t willing to give up.

damian was still in the ring with you as medical staff came and assisted you.

you already fell unconscious when damian lifted you up in his arms and dragged you down onto the stretcher waiting for you backstage.

you were rushed to the hospital and honestly no one felt like continuing the show but they had to. jey was next but all he wanted to do was rush to the hospital and stay by your side.

you didn’t even realised that when you woke up you weren’t in some hotel room but you were in a hospital bed. your head still pounding when you remembered what happened.

the doctor told you that you had a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder,a broken wrist, a sprained ankle and a heavy concussion. not to count all the bruising and red spots forming all over your body.

then what you didn’t want to hear : no wrestling for at least four months.

your body needed to rest and heal first.

you were trying to hold in all the tears but eventually let them out when the doctor left your room. you were supposed to have your first main event at wrestlemania and now that dream was gone.

while still crying a soft knock echoed through the room.

damian first, then rhea with the rest of the judgment day.

“hey…” she whispered but her heart broke when she saw the tears in your eyes “why are you crying pretty girl?” she asked sitting on the chair next to your bed, followed by the boys who sat on the small couch right beside the window.

“bye bye wrestlemania…” you said with a broken voice.

everyone knew how much you’ve been waiting and wanting that moment.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” she said softly.

“its just it’s not fair…” you whispered “why did she do that? i thought she was my friend…i would have never done that to her rhea…never”

“i know love…because you know your value, you’re kind and sweet and loving and unfortunately you’ve met someone who thought about her ego and her ego only…” she said smiling sadly at you.

“what matters now is that you rest and take your time to heal” damian joined the conversation “you scared everyone back there…” he said making you smile a little.

“i didn’t mean to…”

“we know…or you could tell them that yourself” finn joked.

“what?” you whispered.

“everyone’s here…jey almost punched the doctor when they wouldn’t let him see you” dom laughed “becky is here with seth, cody and shayna are here too…girl you even scared gunther”

“i don’t believe it…” you laughed.

“we can make you believe that” jey said entering the room with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. everyone followed him too.

you were relieved in seeing so many people caring for you in a way not even your friends cared about. you felt loved and appreciated.

you’ve spent the next hour talking nonsense with them all and you almost forgot about the wrestling problem thing.

almost.

when everyone left for your check up with the doctor, the only one who stayed was jey.

he was the only one who noticed the shift in your mood and he knew what was like staying away from what you love do the most, so if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was willing to do that, if you needed a friendly advice, he was willing to do that too.

“care to tell me what’s on your mind sweetheart?” he asked when the doctor left.

“i’m going to miss all of these…four months of not seeing you all days, no wrestling, no wrestlemania and probably no summerslam too…it’s just, i feel useless and empty not doing what i love jey” you confessed.

“you’re not useless at all, and it’s normal to feel nostalgic right now but it’ll pass and i promise you that you’ll be on your feet for when summerslam comes! i promise you” he said sitting next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder - the healthy one - “i wish i could have done something to stop her but i was the useless one…i hated seeing you in so much pain…she lost her mind and finally she lost her job too”

“what?” you whispered.

“yup! got fired…you know you could sue her right?” jey asked.

“i would never do that…”

“i know…you’re too kind for that…what she did was wrong and completely unacceptable but i’m glad you’re here…” he said softly kissing your head.

“ill be here for a long long time…this is my home after all” you smiled, making jey laugh too.

and it was in that moment that you truly realised how important those weird people were for you, and how important you were for them.

[thatpinkbetch]

I don't give a fuck if Valentine's Day is over.

I wrote this after going back to look at this beautiful piece by herbarimoon one too many times :)

AU where cupids are angels that are given human assignments to help them fall in love, and Midoriya's first case is Bakugou Katsuki.

As if finding someone for this difficult human to fall in love with wasn't hard enough, it just had to be the one Midoriya had a soft spot for. As a fledgling angel, he loved to watch humans from above the clouds, but his favorite of all was the bratty blonde man that secretly feeds his scraps to kittens in alleyways and strives to be the best at everything he does.

Midoriya wants to find the perfect partner for this man. He searches high and low, until he's found him! Someone that could love his beloved human enough, and someone his human could love in return. And yet, when push comes to shove, and it's time to fire, he messes up the shot and the arrow gets lodged into Bakugou's heart. For it to work, the arrow has to shoot through his chest. What's even worse is, with this magic love arrow stuck in his heart, Bakugou can now see Midoriya, and the other cupids. And he's fucking pissed.

"Are you kidding me? You had one fucking job and you can't even do that right? You stupid fucking Deku!"

Midoriya promises that he will fix this. He looks for the man that he planned to be Bakugou's partner, but he can't find him anymore! Where did he go?

Meanwhile, Bakugou's upset as all hell. What the fuck is this? Is this fucking real? No way in hell is he going to be set up to fall in love. If he's going to fall in love, it will be because he chooses the fucker. Midoriya has to drag him kicking and screaming to find his future partner. People stare after him likes he's crazy, since they can't see the angel holding his wrist and pulling him along.

Try as he might, Midoriya can't find the perfect match again. Well... They'd have to keep trying. What a mess he's gotten himself into.

Bakugou doesn't fucking know what to do. This fuck ass angel keeps following him around, into his home, to his work, hovering over him worried and shit. And on top of that, he's got this arrow sticking out of him. He won't admit it to the idiot, but it hurts. It hurts to put his clothes on, even though the arrow phases through them. It hurts when he wasn't even thinking about it, a dull throbbing in his chest. Because obviously it would hurt to have something stuck in your heart. But fuck that bastard. He doesn't have to know shit about him. Like hell he'd fall in love with whatever random fucker Deku assigned to him. He can deal. He can figure his own way out of this. Apparently they can't just pull out the arrow, otherwise his heart might be damaged beyond repair - meaning he won't be able to fall in love afterwards. He doesn't actually believe that; not until he tries to tug on it at night when the angel is sleeping on his couch and it hurts like a motherfucker.

Fine, okay, this is going to take some time. He just doesn't really get why... There's this nagging sensation in the back of his mind... Why there is something familiar about this angel guy...

Shenanigans ensue. Obviously. Bakugou looks kind of strange half the time, sometimes talking to someone that isn't there. But it's only when he goes to his parents house for something or other, and he sees a picture of himself from childhood. There, beside him, his old friend who drowned in the river when they were kids. It looks just like this fucker that's been harassing him and sleeping on his couch and consuming all of his sweets because even though he doesn't need them, he still has a sweet tooth (and, well, Bakugou could speak up more if it really pissed him off...)

That night he shows Midoriya the picture, and Midoriya is stunned. That is him. Truly. But...he doesn't remember that. It's kind of freaky. Bakugou can tell that it freaks him out, too. And that's when he starts to suspect.

When Midoriya sleeps that night, he dreams of being a child, of playing with his best friend. His best friend, who is the coolest in the whole world, the strongest, the bravest. Going out to play one day when it's raining and his friend... Ka... Ka... His friend stayed home that day. And he slips on the log they used to cross all the time and plummets to the waters below... It's dark, and so, so cold...

He wakes up with a gasp and a splitting headache. Midoriya tries to recall his earliest memory, but the further back he goes, the foggier it gets. No one can really remember their first day alive, their beginning, can they? But he remembers the heavens, a life that feels so long ago, though its only been weeks. He was a bit of an outcast up there, longing constantly for the humans, for one in particular...

That morning, Bakugou studies him silently, but doesn't speak, which is fine, because Midoriya doesn't feel like speaking, either.

They're in that same park, the one where Bakugou first saw him. They're sitting on the bench together, strangely silent. Normally they bicker; Midoriya points out people and asks Bakugou about them, if he's interested, and Bakugou proceeds to tell him all the ways he hates them. Why Bakugou always agreed to sit with him and watch, he could not explain. But today, Midoriya is quietly focused.

Suddenly, he shoots up and grabs Bakugou's hand, pulling him along. There! There he is! The man Midoriya paired him with originally. And Bakugou finally gets a good look at him. Crap! He's his type... He looks at Midorya's excited face, seeing the cupid looking only at their target, and Bakugou frowns. Yeah, okay, maybe he kind of gets Bakugou after all.

"Keep your eyes on him!"

Bakugou digs his heels into the ground.

"The hell is that? You think I could fall for somebody like that? Look at his shitty hair! He looks like an idiot!"

Midoriya stares at him, the excitement slowly draining from his face until he is crestfallen. Oh well. Looks like stupid Deku is going to have to take the time to find him someone else. Shame.

Before either of them can say anymore, Bakugou's face crumples in pain, and he falls to his knees. He hadn't wanted to tell the angel about his pain, but it was getting worse as time went on. He was pretty damn good at ignoring it, but it floods his chest right then, along with a bunch of regrets he'd been holding back for longer than he could remember.

Midoriya follows him down, panicking now. How could he have not noticed! Of course Bakugou would have been in pain this whole time. Humans can't handle long exposure to magic like that, and this arrow had been pumping him full of it for a month now! How he had lasted this long was a miracle already, but he'd never complained, so Midoriya never realized...

"Kacchan, Kacchan please-" where had that name come from? "Please, tell me, just tell me someone-" he looks around at the people in the park, some looking curiously at the man crouching, but Bakugou grips his wrist and holds his gaze.

"Dumbass..." He croaks out. "I don't want anybody else." Then he falls onto his back and the crowd around them gasps. There's screams and calls for an ambulance, but Midoriya is too shocked to notice the commotion. Anybody else...

There are tears in his eyes that he doesn't even feel as he straddles Bakugou. Nobody can see him, or the arrow sticking out of the fallen man's chest. So they can't see it when Midoriya, with his determined gaze, places his hands around the end of the shaft, looking down into Bakugou's eyes, so open and revealing, and he pushes down.

The sound Bakugou makes hurts his own heart, but he doesn't stop. He pushes the arrow through him, slowly, steadily, watching Bakugou gasp and cry, and then reach up and hold his hands and guide them in while he looks directly at Midoriya.

It was his own fault this was painful. If he'd just shot straight, it would've gone clean through. But perhaps there was a part of him that hadn't wanted that shot to work out. A part that had betrayed his trained accuracy. As he holds Bakugou's pained gaze, he takes full responsibility for it, pushing the arrow through and soaking in every wince and tear. He embraces his own selfishness; he wants this heart for his own.

When it's through, they both gasp. The arrow disappeared. And Bakugou... Well, aside from the deep, heaving breaths, and the tears he's blinking away, he looks just like normal. When he sits up, that's when Midoriya notices the crowd around them. And for some reason, they seem to be staring at him.

"Idiot." He looks at the sound of Bakugou's voice and sees him smirking at him. "They can see you now, Izuku."

Midoriya never told him that name. Midoriya hadn't known it himself. But the second Bakugou gives it to him, he feels it fit like a glove. The people around them murmur, saying, "He saved him, thank god..."

Midoriya doesn't know what they saw, or what they think they saw, but he knows what they're about to see. He dives forward and kisses the man beneath him still, and Bakugou holds the back of his neck as he lets him.

He never regains the memories from his childhood - those were swept away by the river. But his heart could never forget. He always wondered if that arrow ever actually worked - nothing feels any different between them. Kacchan loves him just the same.

Though, there is one thing that changes. He's human now (again) his powers stripped from him for falling in love with an assignment. Maybe it's for the best. He was never really good at this cupid business anyway.