#I really struggle to tap into this space enough to remember when I'm not actively in it

[ehlnofay]

in the midst of a little depressive episode at the moment I fear and it's causing me to Ponder... in a weird way I'm almost grateful. like this is UNBELIEVABLY better than it used to be, even as much as it sucks in the moment. I wish I could go back to find myself at twelve years old hiding out in the school toilets and tell them that as long as we stick it out for long enough then one day the outsize bad emotions will be triggered by actual definable events and they'll be a noticeable change from our baseline. I'm not ✨recovered✨ and I don't know if I ever will be - I think I might have spent too many developmental years creating terrible patterns and associations to be able to straighten it all out - but it's Better and I'm able to know that it can continue to get better, too. and that's fucking huge.

[tojiscrack]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃

summary: 7k words — while you’re struggling with the difficult pre-calculus questions, megumi ends up finding out information he wasn’t actively searching for.

notes: woah, sumaya released a chapter a week after the last one and not months later? 😱 what caused this? 🫣 @reinaswrld (aka my wife) got a promotion at her job! 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN!!! this chapter is dedicated to you and your success, well done <33 ik it’s not much — one of the shortest chapters so far in the story — but it’s building up a bit of plot, i hope you still enjoy it all the same ❤️‼️

tw: a lot of swearing from a very angry man (you’ll see), gossiping, that’s it tbh :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n, her parents, and other oc’s mentioned in the story. the rest belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom was organised with a focused, minimalist setup, with rows of sturdy tables that filled most of the space, each paired with two hard-backed chairs that left barely enough room for you to move around without bumping into someone else's desk. you stared up at the whiteboard which took up much of the wall, its surface freshly wiped but faintly marked with smudges from the writing by your favourite teacher in the world — kento nanami — who had made you sit at the front for the sole purpose of doing a one-to-one session on the easier questions that you still somehow struggled with.

a projector hung from the ceiling above, casting crisp, blue-tinted notes and problem sets onto the board. his desk was positioned directly beside the whiteboard, immaculately organised, with a stack of ungraded worksheets, a coffee cup, and a single pen resting beside his computer. you thought satoru could use some tips on how to keep his work space as clean as kento's; you knew he wouldn't listen.

around the room, colourful display boards brightened up the neutral walls, each one crowded with pre-calc formulas, visual aids, and student projects — some crumpled from years of use, others meticulously laminated. none of them were of use to you, not when you found yourself stuck on something as simple as functions and transformations.

"try again," kento — or mr nanami, as he constantly demanded you refer to him as — patiently guided you, sliding a fresh worksheet with extra space for you to do your working out on. the previous one you'd been given had been a complete mess of scribbles, doodles, and working out that made no sense whatsoever.

you spun the pencil through your fingers in a dramatic manner, eyes squinted as you addressed the complicated questions on the sheet.

and gave up the second you saw the graphs.

"i'm failing this class," you decided with a sigh.

kento — mr nanami — shook his head at you, his lips in a straight line as he tapped the sheet.

"you haven't even given it a go," he stated sternly, his cheeks hollowing as he stared down at you. "remember what we went through."

"i already forgot," you admitted, abashed.

kento nanami's gaze was a perfect balance of sternness and patience as he looked down at you, his expression unwavering; his eyes were sharp, fixed intently on you with a hint of exasperation glinting beneath his otherwise calm exterior. it did not look as though he was going to let you give up that easily, no matter how deep your sighs of defeat ran. he tapped the sheet again, and despite it sounding like a couple knocks on the table, it really was a beat that spoke in strong tunes, one that said you're going to try again, whether you like it or not,

so you picked up your pencil, frowning at the size of the eraser attached to its rear end (knowing all too well that it was not going to be enough to keep your paper from becoming a mess of lead by the end of the lesson) and got to work, reading the question, and then re-reading it, trying your hardest to understand it down to a t.

kento had left you to tackle the problems alone as he moved across the room, pausing by other students' desks to offer guidance.

...and then returned to find that your paper was now full of doodles and scribbles. he furrowed his brows and let out a sigh, rubbing his straight brows from where they began, to where they angled downwards, the lines on his forehead more prominent as he tensed.

"i tried," you said, looking sullen.

"i can see that," he replied, and it wasn't just the mess of lead he was talking about; he could see the parts of the paper where you had made an attempt at answering the question, only to give up and then fail miserably.

he leaned against his own desk, peering down at you through his circular glasses. they looked odd to you, specifically the way they stuck onto the skin around his eyes like that. it was almost as peculiar as that weird, spotted tie he always wore.

"how often do you study at home?" he asked you, and the tone of his voice, serious, made you suck in your stomach, an unsettling feeling resting in your tummy.

"every friday," you lied. it wasn't as though he'd know you didn't.

only, he somehow had.

"i know you and your family spend fridays at gojo's," he told you, his brows furrowed.

you paused.

thought of your answer.

and then reconsidered it just in case there were any loopholes he could find.

"yeah," you agreed, nodding, "but i study there too. before dinner."

"no she doesn't."

megumi had approached kento with his notebook and worksheet in hand, his handwriting neat, each letter and number placed with a precision that seemed almost methodical.

you scowled at him as he looked straight at your teacher, barely even regarding you with a simple glance, apparently unbothered by your reaction.

"can you grade my questions?" he asked, only looking down and meeting your gaze with a glare when you kicked him from where you sat.

"you're being rude," you snapped, watching him shake the foot you had kicked.

he looked down at his foot, then at you, then back at his foot, as kento took the notebook out of his hands. "you literally just kicked me," he stated with a deep lour.

"yeah, 'cause you interrupted me when i was talking to kento," you shot back, brows furrowed.

"you mean when you were lying to him," megumi corrected you, an accusatory brow raised.

your cheeks warmed as you averted your gaze, barely managing to suppress a scowl. you crossed your arms, focusing on the scribbled doodles and half-erased notes on your worksheet, ignoring megumi's pointed look as you tapped your pencil against the paper in a futile attempt to appear unaffected, but the stubborn heat on your face betrayed your feigned composure.

"check that last question," said kento, handing megumi his notebook back and pointing at something on his page with the end of his red pen. "otherwise, well done megumi."

megumi nodded, muttering a quiet thanks before sitting back in his seat that was somewhere behind you; you didn't bother checking where after his attitude.

"you," kento began, brows furrowed at you, "need a tutor."

you would have beamed at the idea, if not for already being in a particularly sour mood after megumi's comment. still, you vouched for yourself, even though it meant pushing aside your stubborn pride.

"megumi, he said you have to tutor me," you said, turning around to speak to him — he had been sitting on a table with yuji on his left and nobara on his right. you found yourself seething with envy that you were so unbelievably terrible at math, your friends got to squish themselves on a table for two without you.

"i didn't say that," kento added dismissively. "i said you needed��a tutor, not that it'd be megumi."

at that, the both of you peered back up at him, dumbfounded.

"i've done it before," your friend informed your teacher, his brows raised expectantly. "she takes forever, but —"

you narrowed your eyes at him. "was that really necessary?"

kento shook his head regardless.

you frowned, looking back at megumi, and you could have sworn you'd seen his shoulders deflate slightly too, but your teacher remained firm, regarding you with tight lips and furrowed brows.

"you get distracted very easily," he told you, his hands resting in the pockets of his formal pants. he nodded in the direction of where your friends were sitting without you. "specifically with megumi."

"megumi and i work very well together, actually," you corrected, unaware of yuji shaking his head in disagreement behind you. he'd stopped when you turned to see where kento's eyes had slowly drifted, suspicious. "even though he's really rude when he teaches me —"

"— i'm not rude —"

"— and super judgemental when i get something wrong," you continued over him; he was most likely glaring at the back of your head, you didn't need to see him to know that, "i still learn a lot."

"while that might be true, something always happens to go wrong when the two of you work together," said kento, and even though he was gentle with his approach on this topic, it still felt like a harsh kick to the stomach. "you aren't sensible."

"i'm sensible," megumi openly disagreed.

you did not appreciate his obvious jab at you. "wha— so am i!"

and to your dismay, yuji had intervened. "no you're not!" he jumped in, expression fierce as he pointed at you accusingly. "you told mr haibara my art work was made out of a toilet accident!"

"well it looked like a toilet accident," you shot back, your face relaxed, eyes half-lidded.

"he asked for her opinion," said nobara — your sweet nobara — coming to your defence without a second thought. she leaned over megumi to speak to yuji directly. "what did you expect her to do, ignore him?"

"if she's capable of saying my art piece looks like a pile of shit smeared on some paper, she's capable of ignoring someone!"

it was kento's slight groan that had the four of you looking up at him, and when you did, you'd been met with the sight of him pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses lifted by his fingers as he let out an exasperated sigh. kento did not enjoy it when the four of you would argue: he said it distracted the class despite your peers having discussions, jokes, and even arguments amongst themselves, unaware of the little spats you'd have with each other.

"enough," he voiced coolly, before regarding both you and megumi with a look of finality. "you have proven my exact point."

"i wasn't even—" megumi began, but you cut through him straight away. it wasn't like he was going to vouch for anyone but himself anyway, the selfish bastard.

"we're not like this at home," you argued passionately, brows raised in a desperate attempt to get kento to consider your situation, even if it meant dealing with a very judgemental megumi, who was never gentle when teaching you.

it seemed that your statement had only strengthened kento's decision to assign you a tutor who wasn't megumi, for his brows had drawn into a firm line, his gaze much harsher as he stared you with what seemed like a mix of finality and resolve.

"i saw the two of you at gojo's birthday last year," he'd said calmly. "the piñata was meant for him, not you."

ah.

kento was talking about the incident where you had 'hijacked' (as satoru had eloquently put it) his birthday piñata. you scoffed — he lived to tell the tale, with that goofy look on his face that was apparently meant to make you sympathise with him, but lived nonetheless.

it wasn't as though anybody was harmed in the process.

kento adjusted his glasses and regarded you with narrowed eyes. "it was also meant to be beaten open with a weapon, y/n. not megumi's head."

"arguably, his crazy hair is a danger to us all, and therefore a weapon of mass destruction," you stated, and found yourself internally pleased when you heard both yuji's and nobara's quiet snickering. "the piñata would agree."

you heard yuji and nobara's chuckles sputter into startled groans, abruptly cut off by a telltale thunk that had megumi written all over it. you couldn't help a sly chuckle as you glanced their way, where the pair nursed their sore heads with matching looks of betrayal, nobara muttering something that sounded a lot like a threat on megumi's life.

he, of course, remained unfazed, still glaring at you, looking about as done as kento had seemed, and sensing his icy gaze narrow further, you quickly schooled your face into a mask of innocent defiance.

"i'm not tutoring you," megumi replied bluntly, and you barely had the time to process that and groan before kento had intervened again.

"that settles it," he said, no longer leaning on his desk and now holding a finger up in a silent motion of 'no more' when your lips had parted to speak. "i will search for someone who i think will be best to tutor you —"

"but megumi —"

"— and is willing to do so too," he said, before picking up a folder, searching through it, and handing you a new worksheet with a different set of questions. "have a go at these before i come back, y/n."

he had left to go and approach other students, moving briskly towards those with raised hands, leaving you with only the fresh worksheet in your own hand, and a sigh caught somewhere between your frustration and reluctant determination.

you only hoped your tutor would be someone you could get along with.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

yuji and megumi walked side by side down the bustling hallway, their steps quick as they wove through clusters of students lingering between classes.

yuji had animatedly recounted an outrageous tale about how choso and todo had finally met, and how it had gone terribly wrong in only a matter of seconds. megumi was silent throughout the story, his mind wandering elsewhere, but he still managed to pay attention and had got the general gist of the story. in fact, megumi was certain that he could summarise it all in one simple sentence, something that yuji had failed to do: yuji's brothers did not like each other and were essentially fighting over him.

yuji squinted his eyes as sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, casting warm beams across their path as they neared the business classroom. megumi raised his arm to shield himself, blinking off the colourful spots in his vision.

"when did all that happen?" he asked, a crease between his brows from the frown he'd been holding up.

"after practice last week tuesday," said yuji, casually, "when i tried catching the early bus, remember?"

"i thought you got the early bus," megumi replied, the two of them taking a right where they'd find their classroom. they'd been stalling for a bit, walking round in circles in different areas of the school, but it was nearly time before the bell rang.

yuji nodded. "i did, but todo insisted on dropping me off. i said no, but — you know him, he doesn't take no for an answer."

megumi knew that quite well. when he first met todo and he'd demanded megumi to tell him his type, no matter how many times he'd refused to, todo remained persistent.

it was annoying.

"and then they met — and then everything was just —"

when the pink-haired boy had stopped speaking so abruptly, megumi glanced over at him.

yuji's gaze drifted into the distance, his eyes widening slightly as he seemed to lose track of his story mid-sentence. megumi furrowed his brows at him, watching his mouth hang open for a beat, the usual spark in his expression dimming as he focused intently on something across the hall. slightly confused, megumi turned to follow yuji's line of sight, the silence between them suddenly weighted, and megumi could only lour at what he'd seen.

"hey," yuji began, voice distant, "isn't that tsumiki?"

across the hallway, kamo stood beside tsumiki, his posture formal yet oddly relaxed, hands resting in his pockets with a quiet attentiveness. tsumiki, in turn, seemed engaged, her expression open and bright, using light hand gestures and motions that she usually did when explaining something.

megumi had seen the same thing in different areas of the school: during study hall, he'd seen tsumiki wave kamo goodbye, just before lunch had ended, he'd seen kamo walking her to her english class, and for the nth time that day, he was watching them interact, watching as tsumiki listened attentively, nodding along with something he was saying.

what the hell was going on? since when did kamo and tsumiki talking to each other become so frequent? was that ever a thing to begin with? megumi couldn't comprehend any of what he was seeing.

but he couldn't blame himself for his lack of understanding here, for everything that had happened in the past week regarding kamo had been odd, especially since that conversation his teammates had had in the locker rooms before practice.

and with a more relaxed, loose expression, megumi realised what that meant; how had this not been the first thought in his mind?

tsumiki was someone that both megumi and yuji knew pretty well. he'd completely ruled out the possibility that kamo would find interest in someone older despite majority of his teammates doing exactly that — they liked older girls.

he just did not believe that any one of them would be interested in his sister.

"yeah," megumi nodded, biting his inner cheek to avoid the natural scowl that he knew was trying to make an appearance. "it is."

"why's she talking to —"

"i don't know," said megumi, now wanting more than ever to enter class early, if only to get rid of the disgusting sight before him. he wished he could also say that he did not care, but he was curious, and he wanted to know what was actually happening between them. "let's go."

"oh, she saw us!" said yuji, raising a hand to wave. "she's saying hi!"

megumi didn't look to see whether this was true or not, but he didn't doubt it, only choosing to ignore his sister entirely and go to his class, half annoyed when he realised that kamo would follow behind him soon since they shared the same one.

"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" yuji repeated, sounding taken aback by megumi and his cold response of ignoring her entirely.

megumi stepped into the classroom, his expression tight and shoulders tense as he made his way towards his usual seat at the back. the lively hum of conversation around him felt distant, each sound fading as he focused on shaking off the odd irritation from the hallway, and not even a moment later, yuji had trailed behind him, loudly questioning why megumi was ignoring tsumiki, his voice ringing through the quiet room. his obliviousness hung in the air, adding to megumi's quiet frustration as he sank into his seat, mentally urging his friend to just sit down and stop broadcasting his every thought.

to his dismay, yuji did not stop, not even when kamo had entered the room, walking over to his seat parallel to the two.

the rest of the class went by as usual, the only difference being the constant voice at the back of megumi's mind — nagging and pressing — reminding him of what he'd seen throughout the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi stood just outside the theatre hall, his figure casting a long shadow on the tile floor as the late afternoon light filtered in through the high windows. the hallway was quiet now, only the faint sound of distant chatter echoing from a classroom down the hall, while the smell of fresh paint and worn wood from the theatre room seeped faintly into the corridor.

dressed in his football uniform, his hair still damp from practice, he idly scanned the posters pinned on the corkboard outside the door: upcoming plays, rehearsals, and auditions for the semester. there was even a picture of you from one of the plays back in sophomore year, a huge success, according to the school newsletter attached to it. he remembered that one, a re-telling of rosalind and how even through the mess your family had caused behind the scenes, you had remained professional enough to take your role as the lead and make something better of it — it was admirable, not that he'd ever tell you that.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his eyes occasionally drifting to the door as he waited, his gaze relaxed. when he heard footsteps at the other end of the corridor, light and unhurried, he turned his head, brow twitching slightly as tsumiki closed the large distance between them, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, holding a file to her chest as he swiped the damp strands of his hair away from his forehead.

she stopped just short of him, glancing down at his feet. he followed her gaze, frowning when she didn't speak.

"what?" he said, defensive.

she pointed at his socks, stained with grass. "you're gonna walk in your house with those?"

megumi shot her a look, half grimacing, half glaring. "no," he snapped, snippy. "i'm gonna take them off at the front door."

she shrugged, holding her pink folder to her chest as she leaned against the same wall he had been leaning against.

"i knew i'd find you here," she said, the fluorescent lights above softening her already-gentle features, casting a warm glow that blended with the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the nearby windows.

megumi grunted in response. it was enough to show that he acknowledged her comment. she understood that well enough.

"what do you need?" he asked her, flinching when a random cymbal crash had sounded from inside the hall. he could bet his two dogs it was because of you. "i'm not doing your stats homework again."

"no, silly," she laughed, nudging his side and relishing in the slight hiss he'd let out — yuji had tackled him hard on the field during practice, driving his weight into megumi's side and slamming him mercilessly against the grass. the impact bit deeper than he'd expected, the sharp sting lingering even an hour later. "i was gonna ask you a question."

"ok."

...

"you're not gonna ask me what it is?"

"you're the one that needs to ask the question here."

"stop acting like aunt maude, megumi," scolded tsumiki, making an attempt to pinch his side. he slapped her hand away, cross and displeased with her playful nature. "anyway," she sighed, apparently having given up on trying to tease him any further than he'd let her, "don't get mad at me when i ask this."

he looked down at her, a feeling that still felt strange. only this past summer had he finally outgrown her, and after spending most of his life looking up to meet her gaze, he still wasn't quite used to the new perspective.

he didn't like the look she was sporting. it was something in between a sensible smile and a mischievous grin.

"don't say anything to make me mad," he shot back, brows furrowed.

tsumiki held her file closer to her chest, like a mother protectively cradling her baby.

"let me say a quick prayer before i ask," she said, meeting his sharp gaze with a small frown. "what? i don't wanna get attacked when i ask."

he scowled. "i'm not gonna atta—"

but she wasn't paying attention, her eyes closed as she cupped her hands and whispered her prayers into it. megumi could have sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of 'protect me from the evil standing right next to me'. if he hadn't been taught that disrupting a prayer was a form of evil, he would have hit her twice on the head by now, but the last thing he needed to do was prove a point.

once she'd blown into her chest, she faced the wall opposite them with a smile, letting out a small breath.

"that was stupid," he muttered, unimpressed.

"didn't ask," she hummed, before clearing her throat. "are you interested in anyone?"

he was wrong — perhaps she did need that prayer after all.

megumi peered down at her, a brow raised, judging.

his usual sharp composure faltered for a moment as he processed her question. a frown twitched at the edge of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher the motive behind her sudden curiosity. this wasn't like her usual teasing — it had an edge of genuine interest that unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite place.

"what the hell?" he demanded, visibly disgusted and audibly confused.

"you're making this bigger than it needs to be," she huffed, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "it's just as simple as any other question."

"except you've never asked me that before," he retorted, glowering as she shrugged, her eyes tracing the display board, the one with your image on it.

her expression shifted to a thoughtful calm, taking in each photo and flyer pinned neatly on the cork surface, her fingers tapping lightly against the folder she held, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

megumi didn't understand what was so amusing about her question.

it was confusing; it made no sense.

"so?" she prompted, nudging his side for the second time that day; he shrugged her off, annoyed. "is there any girl you like? any girl you think you like?"

"what's it to you?" he interrogated, placing his helmet over his head to block her out of his peripheral vision. maybe if she wasn't being so annoying, he wouldn't have to do that.

she didn't hesitate when she answered him.

"i'm asking because of an event," said tsumiki, and as she spoke, the sound of shuffling had penetrated megumi's thick helmet, entering his ears, prompting him to turn and glance down at her to see what she was doing. from the lines on his helmet, he could see her shuffling through pages in her folder, before eventually pulling out a purple flyer and offering it to him. sceptically and suspiciously, he took it. "'cause i'm organising it, i get vip tickets for friends and family. i wanted to give you one, and if you have anyone in mind, give her one too. but you're being so secretive."

"i'm not being secretive," said megumi, barely reading the flyer's contents. he was sure he wasn't going to go anyway, he never usually did anyway. he handed it back to her, waving it when she wouldn't take it. "i just don't have anyone."

she sniffed, pushing the flyer back towards him. "could've just said that."

"you were being suspicious," he sneered, eyes narrowed as tsumiki shook her head at him, disagreeing. he clicked his tongue, disapproving. "i don't even go to any of the school stuff anyway."

tsumiki raised a brow at him, visibly sceptical.

"what about homecoming?" she suggested, and megumi was thrown back in time to when he'd been struggling to avoid satoru and his 'bonding time' (which was essentially just picking out expensive suits together). "winter formal? spring fling? the spring formal last year?"

he remembered all of those quite well. still, he remained stagnant.

"i only went to those 'cause y/n dragged me to them."

tsumiki reached up and knocked on his helmet. he scowled and harshly moved her hand away, failing once, twice, three times before she finally stopped.

"did y/n hold a gun to your head?" she asked him, watching as he slowly took his helmet off and shook his hair out of his eyes. he was in need of a haircut soon, he thought to himself, reminded of his mom who politely nagged at him every day about it.

"mentally, she did," he commented quietly. he locked gazes with tsumiki and looked away not even a second later. "does."

a flicker of thought crossed megumi's mind. he recalled the multiple times he'd caught glimpses of tsumiki with kamo throughout the day — small moments, brief exchanges, but enough to catch his attention. she'd been smiling, animated even, in a way that felt unusual.

he acted on this prickle of curiosity, brows furrowed.

"are you taking anyone?" he questioned, looking down at the flyer to clarify. "to the... choir?"

tsumiki shook her head, a look of mild frustration pained over her face. "ever since satoru and your dad scared derek off last year, i... i stopped looking."

megumi raised a brow at her, very clearly critical of her hesitant response. "you stopped looking or they stopped approaching you?"

tsumiki's usual warmth seemed dimmed, her kind expression weighed down with a mix of weariness and irritation, brows knitted slightly with a faint line of frustration formed between them as her gaze shifted to the side, avoiding megumi's probing look.

"they stopped approaching me," she admitted with a sigh, but she was smiling, so megumi assumed it wasn't a massive bother.

not when she seemed to be hitting it off with kamo, apparently...

"so why do you keep talking to kamo?" he asked, straightforward and blunt. there was, in his view, no point beating around the bush or sugarcoating it. it would take too long for her to explain and equally longer for him to just get to the point. he did not have the time nor the patience for that.

there was a gentleness in her face, but it looked stretched thin, as if the weight of the question had caught up, stunning her momentarily. her lips parted briefly, like she wanted to explain, but ultimately came to the decision where in the end, she would not.

"wouldn't you like to know?" she settled on saying, her lip curled.

it irritated megumi.

"i don't," he lied, his voice distant and quiet.

"kamo's a nice guy," said tsumiki, as though trying to feed him this information little by little, like a child being monitored with how much candy they consume. "a really nice guy, actually."

megumi did not particularly agree with this, but he was not going to communicate that with tsumiki, not when she seemed so starstruck by him. megumi didn't even think she felt this strongly about derek carter from the basketball team; it rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that he might have to see one of his football teammates — other than yuji — turn up to dinner at satoru's every once in a while on fridays.

even so, he didn't necessarily believe kamo to be a bad guy.

he was decent: megumi respected his ability to never indulge in gossip as well as the company he always chose to keep — except for todo, that was something he silently critiqued.

but kamo and tsumiki...?

odd pairing, he thought to himself.

"he can hold a conversation better than i thought he could," tsumiki added thoughtfully, slightly nodding to herself as she spoke. "and... he's considerate."

megumi averted his gaze back to the display board, now uninterested.

"will i be seeing him around more?" he asked her without actually looking at her properly. he wasn't in support of this odd pairing, but if tsumiki genuinely liked noritoshi kamo, he wasn't going to actively try and prevent them from happening.

that did not, however, mean he couldn't silently judge them in his head.

and perhaps verbally with nobara, too, since she did feel quite strongly about his teammate ("he acts like he doesn't care about anything, with that 'i don't care' attitude, but look at his face! he's trying too hard, so he definitely does!").

"possibly," said tsumiki, smiling gracefully.

as the muffled sound of voices grew louder, both tsumiki and megumi instinctively turned their heads towards the theatre hall doors, where a steady flow of students began spilling into the corridor. the doors swung open, and megumi's gaze sharpened as he and tsumiki lightly searched the crowd, his eyes moving over familiar faces until they landed on you, standing and walking amidst your classmates.

you approached the two with a smile.

"ooh, tsumiki, you walking home with us?" you asked brightly, adjusting the strap of your bag as you shoved your papers inside. judging from the format of the text, megumi assumed it was a script for another play.

"mamaguro invited me over for dinner," she explained casually, "but she said absence isn't an option, so..."

"ugh, i'm jealous," you frowned, gesturing to your bag to clarify what you meant. "i want to come over too but i have a script to memorise by next week, and i need help with the pre-calc homework kento gave us today."

tsumiki's eyes darted between you and megumi, her lips pursed as though she had been missing something significant.

"megumi's... not able to help you with that?" she asked, her voice an octave higher with apparent confusion.

you raised your brows. "no, he can."

megumi aided you. "i just won't."

tsumiki's head tilted ever so slightly, and a faint crease appeared on her forehead, the kind she only got when she was trying to piece together a particularly baffling puzzle. her lips then parted as if to ask something, but she hesitated, scanning megumi's indifferent expression and your casual one with a slow shake of her head.

"i'm not gonna ask," she settled on saying, before you noticed the flyer in megumi's hand.

leaning in closer, you scanned the leaflet's front, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. the fact that megumi of all people was holding onto one left you momentarily speechless, lips parted as you took in the big, bold text, still a little stunned.

"what's that?" you asked, barely waiting for an answer before reading it aloud. "'choir day: join us and learn the trombone' ... you're actually going to that?"

"no," hestated, looking down and shaking the flyer at tsumiki as though he'd forgotten that he had been holding it. "i'd even pick your stupid plays over some choir show here."

you nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to remind him of who he was speaking to.

"they're not stupid, they're fun," you corrected him with a scowl, pleased when he stepped away from you and threw you a light, warning glare.

tsumiki clicked her fingers at him, making him turn his head and his attention over to her, attentive, like a dog.

"and you're sure you're not taking anyone?" she'd said, brows raised as she opened her folder and tapped at a sheet of paper in it.

you perked up, nonplussed. "you're taking someone?"

"no," he snapped, turning to tsumiki again with a glare. the three of you had started walking out of the hallway now, making your way to the exit. "i told you, i'm not into any girls."

tsumiki, placed in between the two of you, nodded thoughtfully. "ah, so you swing the other way?"

without hesitation, megumi gave her a firm shove, sending her stumbling sidewards — right into you.

"don't be stupid," he'd said over your loud protests, planting his feet firmly onto the ground as tsumiki stood behind him, regaining her balance.

"no, tsumiki, he likes princess jasmine," you told her over his shoulder, watching her enthusiastically nod in agreement.

"i don't —"

"that's why little you's cheeks turned red when her outer robe fell off —" you teased as you walked right up to him, prepared to attack because of his careless shove against tsumiki. 

but he was one step ahead of you.

just as you moved to strike, he planted the helmet on your head and delivered a solid smack to its top. the sound reverberated around you, ringing in your ears, while a dull ache radiated from the point of impact.

your brain had too much fog to focus on what he was now doing to tsumiki. all you could see, through several hard blinks and the stupid face mask lines, was megumi's back, which meant that he was now towering over tsumiki and launching a range of attacks.

you had an idea:

bending over, his helmet now in line with his behind, you charged forward like an angry bull, your head colliding with his back (a stiff one, you had to mention) repeatedly.

"what the—" you heard him grunt.

you couldn't see it, but he was looking down at you from over his shoulder, confused and inwardly concerned with your choice of attack.

it did hurt though, so he'd have to put a stop to it anyway, and that would've been easy to do if tsumiki wasn't now tugging on his hair and stomping on his foot.

from the far end of the hallway, a teacher spotted the scuffle and rushed forward, his expression quickly shifting from irritation to outright disbelief. apparently, he'd first assumed it was a classic tussle between a group of rowdy boys; the vigorous shoving, stomping, and grunts gave that impression from a distance, but as he got closer, he had blinked in surprise, recognising that the three of you involved were a pair of girls and only one boy.

"right, just... walk home safely, you three," he'd said, eyeing megumi's creased jersey and dishevelled hair with a grimace. when his eyes darted to you, the helmet still on your head, he nodded. "bye... y/n."

"no i'm megumi, can't you tell —"

"let's go," megumi grumbled, gripping onto your elbow and tugging you forward with a little more force than necessary.

you shoved him off and walked beside tsumiki again.

the rest of the journey home was filled with collective bullying, laughter, and a disgruntled megumi who vowed to keep you and tsumiki away from each other at all costs. you were rubbing off on her and he didn't like it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

toji shoved satoru off of him once the door had been kicked shut behind him, his chest puffed out in an attempt to appear more intimidating, but he knew the childish man wouldn't flinch even if he bit at him.

"you touch me again and you're gonna end up in a hospital bed you white haired —"

"shut up," satoru groaned, his words drawn out in apparent exhaustion.

toji did not like this demand, parting his lips to say something — no doubt some sort of threat — but satoru had been quicker: for the first time since toji's known him, he was jumping straight to the point.

"look, i don't like you, and you don't like me —"

"incorrect," said toji, arms folded over his chest, though his fists were still clenched where they rested on each side of his waist.

satoru grimaced.

that look — staring back at him with one side of his upper lip lifted, his brows raised and contorted, his nose scrunched. toji wanted nothing more than to punch it right off, a clean swipe.

however, it seemed that he didn't have to, for his face had shifted into one he recognised even better...

the cocky one.

he hated that one even more.

"see, i'm flattered, fushiguro," he began, grinning as toji's nails cut right into each of his palms, leaving half moon crescent marks behind, "really, i am, but i have a wife —"

toji's nostrils flared dangerously.

"shut-the-fuck-up-before-i-shove-my-fist-in-your-fucking-mouth-you-cocky-fucking-bastard —"

satoru raised his hands in mock surrender.

"woah there buddy —"

"you got it fucking twisted," snapped toji, stepping up to the other male with a menacing glare. "i hate your guts. i wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire — and even now, i wanna squash you where you stand, like a bug. consider yourself lucky my wife likes you —"

"i am not the enemy here!" satoru interrupted him loudly.

without breaking eye contact with the enraged, bulky man before him, he pointed at the door behind him where laughter and chatter sounded from members of the gathering.

"we have a common enemy out there. and just this once... aside from the time the serial-hump-er was out for us men... i offer a truce to get rid of the brat."

derek carter was, by all outward appearances, exactly the kind of guy most people would be thrilled to see with someone like tsumiki. he was relentlessly polite, with a clean-cut look and a warm, ready smile that seemed designed to put parents at ease. always prepared, he carried her books without needing to be asked, laughed at all the right moments, and brought flowers to meet the family — not that toji or satoru could find anything wrong with him, on paper.

and maybe that was the problem.

he was too perfect.

perfectly timed smiles, perfect grades, perfect compliments... to toji and satoru, he seemed like he was performing rather than being genuine, and that subtle insincerity — whether real or perceived — set them both on edge. neither of them bought it, and both of them, despite their very obvious differences, couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't quite what he appeared to be.

toji's defensive posture shifted, shoulders loosening as satoru's offer had started to sink in. his glare had softened, the tension in his clenched fists releasing as he glanced from satoru to the closed door behind him, where derek's too-perfect laughter rang out.

for a moment, toji just scowled at the ground, processing, and satoru had assumed he had lost the deal, that they would not be able to collectively get rid of the perfect brat of a date that tsumiki had brought out. but then, toji looked up again, and gave him a quick, almost reluctant nod.

satoru gave him a toothy grin, which was not returned.

"what did you have in mind?" toji began, his voice gruff with obvious reluctance.

"hate to say it, but i'm gonna have to be the brains behind this," said satoru, sounding all too pleased with himself.

if toji hadn't been so pissed with the sight of that carter kid, he might have actually spent time being suspicious with the white-haired freak. what if he was setting him up again? it certainly wouldn't have been the first time...

"believe me, i'd love to be in on the action too," he continued, still smiling that dopy smile, "but i'm a teacher at the high school. got a rep to keep up. and... i could lose my job, obviously..." he glanced at toji with a small, cheeky grin. "you wouldn't be able to relate —"

"— get to the fucking point —"

"— all right."

the plan had been made, enacted, and even altered slightly during it.

the chaos that followed was a carefully orchestrated disaster. satoru's brilliant plan had required toji to bring back a bothersome personality trait he had put at rest from meeting his wife onwards, turning an already uncomfortable event into a whirlwind.

plates clattered, chairs tipped, and the silverware clinked at the most inopportune moments, all while derek had tried to keep his composure, only to grow more visibly unnerved as the night went on. between satoru's subtle, deadpan remarks that derek barely caught, and toji's unexpected, pointed comments that cut through any remaining calm, derek found himself squirming, second-guessing every word. and when toji made a point of 'accidentally' standing too close, arms crossed, looming like a silent bouncer, that had been the final straw.

tsumiki's date excused himself with a pale face, disappearing through the door as fast as he could without actually running.

in turn, tsumiki had not spoken to either of them again for a whole, entire week.

at least the brat was gone without any legal reinforcements.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

notes: i hope you enjoyed this chapter (congrats again reinaswrldddd) my wifeee 🎀💓 i hope it pleases you, i hope you become rich and rule the world (gonna need it after trump’s win 😐). you’re the best and ily (did you guys know that she’s my wife? 😱❤️‍🔥)

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© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

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i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[verisimilar-entropy]

Part 3 of whatever: Doodling In the Margins

Word count: 1630

AO3 ->

I have a few other chapters there too

Ava couldn't stand the sound of old cartoons. There was nothing particularly wrong with black and white looney tunes. They were fine during the day, but at night those haunting little tunes drifted along her spine chillingly through the Mucklewane's speakers. They scratched at her mind with every crackle of the hand drawn panels. Filling her with a revulsion.

"Effie, turn off the cartoons. It's creeping me out. Anything but whatever this is, for the love of fucking God." She edged on begging with her wild hair getting pushed messy into a scrunchy.

Immediately it stops.

Switching swiftly to its regular old timey rhythm that became more familiar. Hymns and quartets have never sounded more soothing...

"Given the strange hour we're at now, I won't stress the strain on God's name now. Those old cartoons used to calm my nerves and send me in a fit of giggles as a young lady."

"You and my mother..." Ava mutters tortured, under her breath. "They had television then?"

"It was a luxury of the times. Brand new television set my pa strolled into the dining room when we were able to afford it. Radios but with pictures! That old antennas had to always be twitched around on that staticy old thing out on the farm." Effie recounts fondly of the expensive screen her family rarely spent time to gather around. There was little time even then to fixate on such pointless activities, but even then it must have been nice to gather around with a big farm family during still times for a few laughs.

"Radios were still more for news and gripping tales."

"That checks out... No color for a few decades."

"Not until the forties I'm afraid!" Her cheery voice carried for her own sake. The echo of it fades into the blur of the present towards the foyer of the restaurant. Ava taps the thin cigarette in her fingers against the table top of her corner booth. A habit when she was gearing up to make her way to the front of the diner. That anxious breath picking up. She'd given up on sleeping in favor of writing out her nerves. Ideas weren't flowing with the strange memories worming their way in.

Itching into the scratchy moleskin of her notebook rather than the spiralbound leaflet pages instead.

"So, eh, your mother liked those old toons?" Ava stops tapping her cigarette with pursed lips. Ava bothered to bring it up, the faint ghost of Missouri, or Misery as she fondly puts it mentally, passes, she really didn't care to remember. She really didn't feel like talking about it.

"She was convinced they put me to sleep, but they terrified me into staying silent all night. They're like a terrible trance." Involuntary shudders come about. "I'm going out to smoke a cigarette."

There's a beat of silence beneath the music, a bit of relief. She can almost smell the tobacco burning against her nostrils. Sweet, relieving.

"Take me with you out in the lot, Ava." Her soft drawl grew even gentler than usual. Ava knew the tone. Ava groans, cut off quickly by Effie continuing. "It's been a long evening, for the both of us, we could both use the company, doll..." This theoretical theorist knew well enough Effie struggled from not being able to sleep. Visions and the weight of knowing so much about the diner often kept them both awake at night.

Knowledge and wisdom both have their marks on one's psyche.

Ava sighs, letting the music drift into the open space between her and the radio.

"Fine, let's go." And so she pulls on her pull over; one that was a more green-gray that she definitely didn't grab up from some of Caspar's things when the Teds took him and his wild west adventures took place. He never bothered to ask for it back, so she never saw a reason to return such a shabby looking thing. Clearly he didn't miss it much.

Ava grabs her carton of smokes- lighter than she'd like, a lighter, her notebook to glance over what was written, and the radio safely tucked under her arm carefully before setting herself on her usual spot by the clay planter. Sat on the curb over looking a few meters away into...

Sweet, all consuming, seemingly close to nothingness, endless empty yet full of some much beautiful potential. Entropy. Travel in the process, her little piece of observing the universe's life and slow act and dance through the cosmo's decay-

all at once.

Here she struck the fire against the tip of the cigarette to smoke and create the process of both within her all over again.

The silence was nice, peaceful.

No words except for old timey music by her side in the plant's soil and Leif's own radio blasting nineties metal faintly from the rooftop.

She strains her ears to envision if there's any distant tinkering to be heard. If he was making a call to his Sygian friend. If he were talking to himself through a late night project again, or at all, in general. Anything to distract from her moments of memory. Of the dumb, old shit of what she couldn't control.

Of the old memories that made her angry still. Even after the younger version of her mom told her to get over it. Sure some closure was there, but there was some things that never we quite went away. Some things were like the glue you were stuck with peeling off into pesky pieces, not the satisfying strips.

Her mind snaps back into focus when she hears the sound of a rocking chair. Effie's soft hum, it was gentle over the music that didn't play any lyrics. "You know, Ava." The rocking continues rhythmically, she feels like she's imagining a fire crackle, calming her own nerves.

Did the Mucklewains have a fireplace? Ava wonders to herself.

''In these recent times, I find myself taking to embroidery. Making scenery and tapestry of all the adventures we've seen, a few visions I've had. Places I find beautiful or remember fondly. Have you ever thought of finding something in between to focus on other than the diner?" Ava felt annoyed at first, then it faded towards something else. It wasn't entirely a therapy strategy, it just patronizingly sounds a lot like it.

"In college, I used to play these journaling games. I'd take dice and probability and a deck of playing cards. Instead of studying, sometimes I'd let chance take the wheel and let it do the writing for me before I dove head first into questioning everything."

"You can write stories that way? How?" The rocking slows, the confusion settled in the air. Ava flicks the cigarette ash and takes a long drag.

"Yeah, there's systems like a set of rules for board games out there. Different kinds, I made up my own and storylines, so it was a mix of ideas in my head and something a bit more unpredictable to surprise myself. I'd draw maps and character designs to keep track of it all in the margins of notebooks while I worked on other things. That's how I shit off my mind before smoking cigarettes."

There was stillness between them for a moment. "Wow, dear, I'll be honest. That sounds like of work, but it sounds like it'd make for amazing story ideas unfold. Did you ever write or publish these stories?"

"I...had a few, uh, forums. That'd I'd share my ideas with. I had journal entries that I published at one point." Ava wasn't going to explain the Internet to Effie now. Sucking down her cigarette and trying not to think of the many hours she invested formatting journals into something legible for sharing view.

"Oh, you've published journals? That aren't scientific? I'd love to read something you've written!" Ava pauses and rubs the back of her neck, another long drag. Effie was absolutely giddy at the idea. "If you'd allow me to hear them sometime."

"I'd...have to come up with a new story. I haven't used that system since I lived in a dorm." She didn't sound very certain, but there wasn't much else to do in the diner in between obsessing over the diner and proving everything she knew to be right.

What else did she have if she had nothing left to prove? There was always more, everything was always changing and in motion. The diner was part of a franchise, for fuck's sake! But Effie was right, there had to be one or two extra hobbies. Gloria had her food, Leif had his building junk, Caspar had his annoying bullshit. She wasn't that into the pinball machine they had just gotten, courtesy of David actually going out and getting it.

Ava had her theories. Ideas. She was full of them. And math.

"Yeah, maybe I'll share something. You two play music all the time, maybe it'll cut through the background noise."

"Oh! And it'll be just like when I was a girl listening to my stories on the radio as a girl!" Ava could practically hear Effie kicking her feet. Ava couldn't help the huff of a laugh through her nose, exhaling her smoke, and taking another drag. It was at the brown filter. She tosses it by her feet out of habit and lit another. There were already two below her, she hadn't realized she was out here that long. Thinking. Looking out into oblivion.

"Yeah, Effie, I think you're right. That sounds like a good idea."

Her own voice drifts into the sound of whirling in the motion of the universe. The old chorus music playing coupled with the way the brink of the old dad rock carried into its winds. Caught in the stillness between all these sounds stirring and thoughts settling, drifting by. Ava forgot the notebook in her lap and starts flipping through her notes.

Her free hand going to reach for the pony pencil in her pocket and doodling in the margins.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 36

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Venom + reader = symbiote. More canon typical violence and mentioned cannibalism (Venom eats bad guys). Some angst at the end - reader really went behind the Avengers' backs, huh? But it's gonna be okay.

Is this how babies feel in the uterus? The darkness was nearly impenetrable but at the same time comforting and warm. It wasn't dry and it wasn't wet; it just was. I was floating in weightless space, subtly feeling the echos of a battle, hearing the sounds of struggle as if I was underwater.

"MORSEL, I WILL CONSUME THESE HUMANS. IT MIGHT FEEL SLIGHTLY UNPLEASANT." Venom's voice seemed to reverb in my skull, bringing my awareness to us. We. We are Venom.

"Don't eat Cabre, he's been possessed. Put him out if you can, but don't hurt yourself. I have very little information about this demon thing," I said - well, I thought, hoping Venom would hear me. A possessed enhanced mutant person was bad but a possessed carnivorous symbiote was nightmare fuel. I also didn't want Venom to hurt themselves; the sonic gun looked painful enough already.

I felt rather than heard the agreement coming from Venom; for a brief moment, the three of us were Venom as the symbiote entered Cabre's body to alter his chemicals. The sensation was foreign, unpleasant, and I shuddered at the violation. The sense of comfort that came once Venom returned fully to me was inexplicable. I began to understand why Eddie didn't want to part with Venom; the symbiote's continued presence felt quite comforting.

Very similar to how I felt when I sat with Tony, him inside of me, for hours, with our bodies joined and minds working in quiet agreement.

"HUMAN MATING RITUALS ARE BIZARRE," Venom sounded baffled and slightly disgusted. "AND THEY ARE NOTHING LIKE A PERFECT SYMBIOSIS. PLEASE DO NOT COMPARE YOUR PRIMITIVE URGES TO OUR SYMBIOSIS."

I gasped inwardly, doing my best to distract myself from the crunching and wet noises that managed to break Venom's barrier. "Would you rather I barf inside of you?" I snarked, giving into the urge to roll my eyes. Not the time to be picky-choosy, Chtulhu.

"YOU DO NOT WANT TO WASTE PRECIOUS ENERGY RIGHT NOW. WE STILL HAVE A LOT TO CONSUME AND I WILL NEED TO REPAIR EDDIE." The symbiote announced patiently, a sense of deep longing beginning to seep into our bond at the mention of my uncle's name.

The points Venom raised were valid and I was as eager to be Just Me as Venom craved to reunite with Eddie; I receded, racking my brain for something to focus on to be able to ignore the cannibalistic experience and not "waste precious energy". "I have a subdermal tracker installed, tap it three times to activate it if you need backup," Belatedly, I remembered about my cyborg experiment.

Venom appeared to contemplate it. "NOT NOW. THIS BATTLE IS NOT VERY HARD." They finally concluded as a particularly piercing scream echoed in my ears. "YOUR MATES WILL BE ANGRY IF THEY FIND OUT. WE CAN MAKE SURE THEY DO NOT FIND OUT."

As surprised as I was at the extended courtesy, I had to face myself and my lies sooner or later anyways. "We'll tell them anyways. I'll take the blame, you play dumb together with Eddie. Consider it a trade," If I could, I would be rubbing my face right now. "I took you out to an all-you-can-eat human buffet, you took me out to take care of a problem. We're even."

Venom snorted as I felt the random crunching and squelching noises slowly begin to quiet down. "FUNNY MORSEL," I assumed it was a compliment as the feelings that leaked through the bond were actually quite fond. "THE OTHER MORSELS SHOULD BE GRATEFUL. WE WILL BRING POSSESSED HUMAN TO THEIR DOORSTEP. WE DID THE JOB FOR THEM." However, it was obvious the kind feelings didn't quite extend to SHIELD or the Avengers. I struggled to comprehend how Venom planned to take all three of us to the tower anyway, with both Cabre and Eddie being out of commission and me currently being, well, Venom.

I needn't have worried, however. There was a slight pressure on one of my shoulders followed by a brief, ten-minute strange sensation of flying, the added weightlessness making me drowsy in the darkness of Venom's fluid body. As soon as it stopped I heard voices that seemed faintly familiar - names that I recognized, but not quite sure from where.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" The yelling reached my ears through the layers of symbiote, making me cringe. Tony's piercing shriek of shock hurt.

"Could you please not be so loud, it fuckin' hurts," I moaned without a thought, hastily shutting up when the voice that spoke my words roared.

"Pri... Princess?" I heard glass shatter; focusing my eyes was hard and the field of view was funky to say the least; I towered over Tony's shaking form by at least good few feet. Subconsciously, I felt the need to taste the air - my engineer boyfriend recoiled at the same time I realized I had stuck out my-Venom's-our tongue, feeling the familiar salt and musk as if I just straight up licked Tony from head to toe.

"Believe me, this is just as weird for me," I spoke, trying to control my and Venom's combined limbs. Deeply inside my brain, I swear I felt the symbiote's snickering. "Venom, can you unattach yourself from me? Please?" I begged, absolutely hating Tony's expression of fear and confusion.

"WE HAVE TO DIGEST FIRST," The symbiote replied unapologetically but took control over the limbs, carelessly dropping Cabre at Tony's feet. "YOUR MERCENARY. SAME-DAY DELIVERY, NO RETURNS," We grinned together. I had felt Venom rummaging my brain for an appropriate joke and supplied it myself. The adrenaline rush arrived late, something I suspect was Venom's handiwork, and I basked in the sudden influx of joy and exhilaration.

Tony slowly slid down the wall, landing ungracefully on his ass, staring straight up with unblinking eyes. "Friday, please assemble the Avengers. And make Bruce bring me booze, please," I've never heard Tony this dejected.

I, on the other hand, was feeling really strange. Joyful one moment and confused the next, I let Venom handle most of the business as my mind faded in and out of focus, limbs growing heavy with each breath that I took. Or I didn't? Panic set in when I realized I couldn't breathe, couldn't inhale.

"CALM DOWN, MORSEL. I AM SUPPLYING YOU WITH THE OXYGEN," Venom's voice interrupted my panic attack as I once again was deposited in the calm, comfortable darkness. "SHE IS FINE. SYMBIOSIS CAN BE STRESSFUL FOR FIRST TIME HOSTS. I WILL GLADLY RETURN TO EDDIE AS SOON AS THE CHEMICALS IN OUR SYSTEM ALLOW ME TO SAFELY WITHDRAW." I heard more voices and I assume Venom calming down the newly arrived Avengers. My mind was still murky, like when Venom dulled it on purpose when they were eating people. Eating people. "I SUGGEST YOU PREPARE A WASTE BIN. MORSEL WILL MOST LIKELY FEEL SICK."

Oh boy, did I feel sick! As soon as Venom retracted back into my skin, I hurled, Steve catching the most of it by pushing a large bucket right in my face whilst Bruce gently rubbed my back. I avoided looking at the contents even though I consciously knew that there wasn't much more than water and bile, having previously felt first-hand exactly how Venom digested their food.

"I'm a dumbass, please put me out of my misery," The words were spoken seriously. Physically, I felt the best I've ever had: aches and pains I had gotten used disappeared and my body felt invigorated. Mentally, however, I felt drained, confused and so, so alone in my skin. As if my brain itched. Someone was talking and I heard none of it.

"Shh, come here, come here," Eddie's voice was drowsy as his arms wrapped around me, scratching that lonely itch in my brain. I grasped at him, hiding my face in his chest, missing most of what was being said. "Yeah, it's not exactly painful, more like... You feel not whole for a few hours after you separate. Not the best feeling, especially if the separation was forced," His voice bore the same pain I seemed to be experiencing at the moment. So alone in my skin.

Another large palm landed on my back as I sighed in contentment. "I'll take her. Do you guys need something?" Bruce's voice reached my ears, my brain finally agreeing to recognise human speech.

"A shower and some chocolate would be great, thank you," Eddie's voice receded further and further away as I freely, finally fell into Bruce's embrace.

"I warned you, Tony," Natasha spoke softly, coming over to brush my hair out of my face. I opened my eyes to see most of the team wearing identical looks of astonishment and worry, their eyes focused on me. Natasha was the only one who had respect clearly written on her face. "C'mon, let's go sit down so you can tell us what happened."

I avoided their eyes, fitfully clutching Bruce's arm as all of us sat down on the couch in a pile of superheroes. I guess I could be counted as one too, after the stunt I'd pulled. The mercenary was nowhere to be seen; Bucky's shirt bore bloodstains so I assumed he took the man to the underground levels where he and Natasha kept a few cells for off-the-record interrogations.

"So?" Tony's voice was hard; he avoided my face, too.

"Planned a plan. Executed the plan. It mostly worked, except the merc was possessed, too. He took out Eddie, I volunteered as a host. We ate the croonies," I stuttered slightly, fighting with myself to call the things by their names without having to throw up. "Grabbed the merc, grabbed Eddie and went home." I stared straight ahead, only partially aware of Bruce's disappointed sigh behind me.

"And it never crossed your mind that you shouldn't be doing this? All this hiding, this lying?" Tony asked, finally settling his hard stare on me. "There are professionals already working on this. It's not your job." His words were harsh but truthful.

Only this truth didn't sit well with me. I'd been monitored for years; there were too many secrets kept from me, too many what-ifs hung over my head. It was made worse by the uncertainty: did Tony know? Did Natasha know? Who else was hiding the fact that there had been a target on my back all along?

"Isn't it?" Anger began to creep in. I shrugged off Bruce's arm. "Isn't it my job to know your little organisation has been onto my ass for years? Isn't it my job to know I would have ended up in that position anyways, considering the fact that at least one hostile mutant gang wanted me to help them take over the world?" I stood up, interlocking my hands behind my back to conceal the shaking fingers. "Isn't it may fucking job to make sure that someone does something about the fact that my family is going crazy from helplessness?" I finished, looking directly at Tony. I hated seeing him recoil but some things needed to be said. "If you expected me to sit and do nothing while this bullshit is happening, you do not know me. At all."

"Years?" Barton interrupted in confusion. "I didn't even know you existed until Peter brought you over."

"Yes, Bird, years," I began to pace in agitation. "Apparently, many people think I'm much smarter than I am. I'm sure Cabre will be happy to tell you all about it," I sneered, stopping in front of the window to look at the dim, sleeping city. "Everybody seems to know about me more than I know about myself. I'm sick and I'm tired of people telling me what to do."

The silence behind me was telling. Maybe they really didn't know or maybe they just didn't really care. I wasn't naïve, I didn't expect gratitude for doing what I did but understanding would have been nice. Paradoxically, Venom's attitude was the most humane out of the whole gang. I hated being disappointed in people but ultimately, their safety and happiness was much more important than my feelings. They gave me a family - even if it was for a brief moment - and I owed them for it.

"Princess," Stephen's voice returned me back to reality. "We do not blame you. At least, I do not. We just want to know why didn't you trust us to help you," He pleaded quietly.

"It's not that I don't trust you. It's the fact you still consider me a child, some wilting flower. And perhaps, sometimes I act carefree," I inspected their reflection in the darkness of the glass pane. "But the truth is, I do not forget and I rarely forgive. And I definitely do not appreciate some random motherfucker messing around with people that I love," As soon as those words left my mouth, the heaviness from my shoulders disappeared. "And I don't regret it. I will burn down everything and everyone if I have even the slightest chance to protect what's mine."

A sharp intake of breath, someone choking on a sob. I closed my eyes, not ready to see the disappointed faces of my family - in moments like these, their heroic nature on stark display, I realized how much I did not fit amongst the do-gooders. The work I did was forever going to be the ungrateful kind; that much I've known forever but it didn't make facing that fact any less hard.

Soft, feminine hand landed on my shoulder as Natasha's perfume invaded my personal space. "I'm proud of you," The spy said quietly, wrapping the arm around my shoulders. "You did everything we couldn't do. That's a big deal if you ask me."

"And just like that, we're supposed to be okay with... This?" Steve's voice sounded exhausted.

"Yes," Bucky replied darkly. "If it was me in that place, you would have done the same. Oh wait," His tone turned sarcastic. "You did do the same. So, shut up, punk. We're lucky bastards if we have a person like that on our side."

I expected tears but none came. I felt nothing but relief, painful, as if I had spent weeks and weeks cramped up in a small space, unable to freely move and breathe.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

[theartofbeinganerd]

Okay I'm going to add a prompt to what is no doubt your mountain. Can I request one from baby Evie? First time she gets sick? Kinda inspired since I was up all night with a sick kiddo.

Yep, it’s definitely a mountain! It may take awhile, but I’m getting to all of them eventually! Thanks for the prompt, and I hope the kiddo didn’t have too rough a time - getting sick as a kid was the worst! (not that it’s much better as an adult lmao)

(Ao3)

-

A high-pitched cry broke through the quiet stillness of anaverage mid-morning in Perthshire, only to be followed closely by another,longer wail.

“Anything yet?”

Jemma glanced up from the parenting help books that she’dbeen leafing through at the dining room table with an increasing worry, findingFitz still trying to rock Evelyn to sleep without success. She’d been like thissince early that morning, waking both of her parents with a shrill cry that hadhad them up and out of bed in moments, despite the early hour. They’d triedchanging her diaper, tried getting her back to sleep, and tried feeding her,but she wasn’t having any of it – and the unmistakable little coughs that shewas giving between cries were reason enough to have them both on edge.

“It’s probably just a cold, but…” Jemma shrugged helplessly;she may have acted as their team’s doctor for many years, but she wasn’t actually a medical professional. And,well, it seemed that the moment her eleven-month-old daughter’s heath came intoquestion, she couldn’t be sure of anything.

“She does feel warm,” Fitz admitted, his lips tugging downinto a grimace as he shifted Evelyn in his arms and cupped the back of her headwith a hand, still doing his level best to soothe her.

“Does she?” Hurriedly, she got up from her chair at thetable and moved to stand beside Fitz, pressing the backs of her fingers toEvelyn’s little forehead. She didfeel warmer than she should, and even though Jemma knew that she shouldn’t jumpto conclusions, she couldn’t help the little jolt of anxiety that she felt atthe confirmation.

After all, this was her baby;Evelyn depended on them (Jemma had always been quite aware that Evelyn wassmall and defenseless and dependent upon them, but in that moment, it was astark reminder that left her feeling guilty and slightly nauseous), and therewas something wrong with her that they just couldn’t seem to fix.

She knew that itwas most likely a small thing, just a little common cold, but…but that hadnever been their luck, had it? Not after trips to the bottom of the ocean anddistant planets and virtual realities and space prisons had become theirnormal, everyday life.

So, Jemma carefully extracting a struggling, fussy Evelynfrom Fitz’s arms, and told him efficiently, “Call Dr. Clark, then get the keysand my purse, and we’ll head over to get her opinion.” As he moved to followher instructions, Jemma focused on gently trying to shush Evelyn, who washaving none of it, and kissing the top of her head as she murmured, “We’ll sortthis out, sweetheart. I promise, everything will be alright soon enough.”

-

After getting everything settled, they then made it to thepediatrician’s in record time – only to find themselves sitting in the littlewaiting room with framed pictures of giggling babies on the walls and old,mismatched toys sitting in the corner for an indefinite amount of time.

Jemma had Evelyn cuddled up against her chest, rocking herabsently. She’d stopped actively crying and screaming, only giving littlecoughs here and there, but she was still visibly irritable, always lookingmoments away from breaking into another crying fit.

Fitz, on the other hand, was an unashamed wreck, constantlyfidgeting in the seat beside her, tapping his foot and digging his thumb intothe palm of his opposite hand, which seemed to be trembling just slightly.Frowning in concern, Jemma reached over with the hand not supporting Evelyn’sback, laying it over both of Fitz’s to still the movement.

With a calm in her voice that she didn’t really feel, sheassured him, “Everything’s fine, Fitz. Babies get sick all the time, you know,it’s really nothing to lose our heads over.”

But, much in line with her own thinking, Fitz turned to faceher fully and arched an eyebrow, deadpanning, “Jem, it’s us.”

“Well, alright, yes, but…” However, Jemma didn’t quite havean argument for that at the moment, and instead let her sentence hang there.

Fitz released a long, slow sigh that had his shouldersrising and falling, then he explained in a low, tight voice, “You know…everytime I hear the word ‘sick’, I can only think of you and…” He trailed off then,his gaze going unfocused as he mumbled something under his breath, but Jemmaonly managed to catch, “…trapped on the other side of the glass…wasn’t able to do anything…”

It was more than enough, though, to understand what had himso bothered.

As he let out another, shuddering sigh, Jemma gave his handa reassuring squeeze and reminded him softly, “Fitz, that was a completelydifferent situation – I know for a fact Evelyn hasn’t been around any Chitauriartifacts.” With a quiet laugh, she added teasingly, “Unless, of course, youhave something to tell me about what you two do when I’m out.”

Instead of being comforted, though, Fitz simply gave her abit of a look and replied, “Yeah, I knowshe doesn’t have an alien virus Jemma, but there are still plenty of human ones out there that scare the crapout of me.”

Knowing that neither of them would be truly comforted untilthey’d been told otherwise by a doctor, Jemma instead asked knowingly, “Do youwant to hold her?” He nodded wordlessly, holding his hands out to receiveEvelyn from her, and he visibly relaxed as soon as their daughter was in hisarms and snuggled up against his chest.

Thankfully, not too much more time elapsed before they werecalled in by a nurse, and taken to an exam room, where they were soon joined byEvelyn’s pediatrician, Dr. Clark. As the kindly older woman examined a oncemore screaming Evelyn, Fitz was even antsier than he had been earlier, standingat Jemma’s side and watching on.

Neither of them, of course, was a fan of being unable to doanything to help someone, especiallywhen that someone was their child, but this wasto help Evelyn in the long run, so Jemma simply reached over to grasp Fitz’shand, a gentle reminder that everything was okay.

Finally, Dr. Clark finished looking Evelyn over, and Fitzimmediately stepped forward to take Evelyn back into his arms, working tosoothe her yet again. Once they’d taken seats in the uncomfortable plasticchairs off to the side of the room, Dr. Clark explained with a warm smile, “Evelynis just fine, she’s simply caught a common cold.”

All of the tension seemed to leave Jemma’s shoulders in aninstant as she breathed an audible sigh of relief. She’d known that it was most likely a cold (hadn’t she told herself thatjust an hour ago?), but she just hadn’t been able to stop herself from jumpingto worst possible scenarios in her head, even while she’d attempted to remainoutwardly calm in order to keep Fitzcalm. Hearing from a doctor that she trusted that Evelyn just had a cold wasexactly what she’d needed.

“Have you been anywhere recently that was crowded?” Dr.Clark asked curiously, making a few notes on the little laptop she’d brought intothe room with her. “That’s usually how babies end up catching colds, or, ofcourse, if either of you have been sick in the past couple of weeks.”

Frowning, Jemma thought back for a moment, then shook herhead and informed her, “No, we haven’t been to the park for awhile –”

“And Evie isn’t in daycare yet,” Fitz finished for her, anda glance at him showed that he was wearing a similarly confused frown.

But, they both seemed to realize something simultaneously inthe next moment, gasping aloud and turning to look at each other as they criedin unison, “Daisy!”

Their closest friend had been by their cottage just last week tosee them (but mostly to see her goddaughter, who she doted on and adored morethan both of them combined), and Jemma hadn’t even connected the dates at thetime. But, it was just then that she remembered that it was the time of yearthey’d always referred to as “the plague” at the Playground, when everyone inthe tight quarters seemed to get sick all at once.

They’d been away from SHIELD for what felt like so long now,the thought hadn’t even occurred to Jemma – if it had, she would’ve insistedthat Daisy stay away until the illness had worked its way through her system.

Dr. Clark had arched an eyebrow at their outburst, and witha little flush, Jemma explained simply, “Our friend. She was by last week, andshe may have been carrying the proper germs.”

“What do we need to do to get Evie better, then?” Fitz askedthe doctor curiously, though Jemma could tell that he was listening intentlyand was ready to begin following the instructions as quickly as he could possiblymanage.

“Keep her hydrated,” Dr. Clark began to list off, “try andmake sure that she gets plenty of rest, and steam should do the trick to clearup her sinuses, which will help with her getting her appetite back. Her coldshould clear up soon, but if her fever doesn’t go down or worsens, give us anothercall.”

After they’d both thanked the doctor profusely, they leftthe office with Evelyn, who was still sniffling and upset, clinging tightly toher father as they crossed the relatively crowded parking lot. Once they’dmanaged to wrangle Evelyn out of Fitz’s arms and into her car seat, Jemma andFitz then got into the car themselves.

As they were pulling away, he said optimistically, “Hey,maybe this means that our bad luck skipped right over Evie, maybe it’ll justend with us.”

Jemma gave a short scoff, then laughed lightly and shook herhead as she replied wryly, “It’s more like our ‘bad luck��� ended when we leftSHIELD; of course the chances of otherworldly, strange things happening to us weremuch higher when we were working for an agency that makes otherworldly, strangethings its business. I can’t imagine any of those things happening now.”

He chuckled a bit at that, admitting, “You’re probablyright, Jem, but…I’m still hopeful that Evie won’t have it as hard as we did. I’malways hoping for the best for her, really.”

Smiling softly, Jemma turned her head to glance at him,agreeing in murmur, “I am too.” Then, after a moment, she added thoughtfully, “Whichmeans that we should probably make sure that Daisy never comes by during theplague again.”

“Agreed,” Fitz said simply, nodding, before he went onhastily, “but it was your idea – you have to be the one to tell her.”

“Ugh Fitz!”