#and also no one’s at their best in most high school environments

[chocodile]

Amaranthine Magic System PART I: Remedial Magic For Beginners

Okay so… weird starting point, but do you remember these jerks from middle school math class? Function graphs! (I hated these things so much) The simplest possible function is a basic straight line, but by modifying the function, the graphed line can distort and take on all sorts of new shapes.

Magic is a lot like that.

The best way to describe spellcasting would be “filtering waves of energy”. Imagine a sine wave, oscillating up and down in a simple, predictable pattern. That is magical energy in its default state. It exists as background radiation throughout the whole world and permeates all living things… though some things conduct magic better or worse than others. (Magic has a lot in common with the electromagnetic spectrum in the real world)

What wizards do when they cast magic is that they amplify and tweak this ambient background energy in just the right way to contort it into a new form (lightning, a shockwave, fire, etc). The core nature of the energy doesn’t really change, but by exaggerating, filtering, and suppressing that oscillating wave in just the right amounts, in just the right places, in just the right order, it can be transformed into something very different than its base form. You could also think of it a bit like a musician playing a wind instrument, modulating the tone by covering and uncovering holes, or a puppetmaster pulling strings of a marionette—you need to deeply understand the physics at play and give each string just the right amount of slack and pull to make it do what you want.

The most common type of magical energy is magic in a neutral, passive state, just sort of existing passively as background radiation. Like the electromagnetic spectrum and gravity, it is deeply intertwined with how life evolved in this world, but also is so innate as to be largely unnoticeable. It is energy without a physical form. However, it can be harnessed and stored, given the right conduit. Under these circumstances it behaves similar to electricity.

Certain types of physical material are better at holding and manipulating magic than others. Substances that hold or amplify magic work because something about their physical molecular structure bends and filters the magic “waves” in a way that “traps” that energy inside of them, or amplifies the frequency of the waves. Nearly all crystalline structures and precious gems have some sort of magic-amplifying capability, with the best ones being highly prized and fetching crazy prices for large, pure specimens. Skilled Old Kingdom wizards could engineer such gemstones into Catalyst Stones, a special type of battery/amplifier that wizards could use to cast spells beyond their normal limits. Gemstones and crystals have been traditionally associated with wizards for this reason. However, they are far from the only material with a magical affinity—just one of the most easily recognizable.

…Additionally, other materials might have the opposite effect. Iron is well-known for its wizard-subduing properties. Simply being in a room with a large piece of iron makes a wizard feel ill and weakens their powers. Iron manacles and chains are commonly used to imprison criminal wizards. Not only do they aggressively drain magic from the air, matter, and flesh around them, they prevent the hand gestures that might allow a weakened mage to do any magical manipulation at all.

Magical energy is distributed throughout the world unevenly. Occasionally, the concentration of magic in an area is so high that the environment itself becomes effectively enchanted. A certain range of mountains might be rich in magical ores that have a subtle effect on how water in the region behaves, causing strangely shaped caves and ridges to form in the region. A woodland might be home to a large number of mushrooms that have adapted to make use of magic as a defense mechanism, causing the glen to disorient travelers who walk through it. Magic is infamous for distorting compass readings, too, forcing travelers to carry protective charms to keep their tools usable.

There are all sorts of weird subtle little things like that that can be caused by high concentrations of magic, and magically concentrated areas often have very unique biodiversity that evolved to make use of that specific environment. Discovering, exploring, studying, and documenting these regions is of great interest to many magical scholars (as well as the state interests sometimes backing them, of course).

Magic can do a lot of weird stuff in Amaranthine, but it isn’t as open-ended as most other types of fantasy magic. Things like turning oneself into a dragon are no more possible than they are in real life (unfortunately for some who may wish otherwise). You can get pretty creative with it, and there are surely techniques yet undiscovered that even Hyden doesn’t know about, but no matter how fancy your spellcasting gets, it’ll always just be “manipulating waves of energy”.

(Part II and Part III coming soon!)

[heavencasteel420]

Does Steve have the best redemption arc in TV, or does he simply have the loudest?

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-five

1043 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four

That morning…

Eddie it really sucks that you’re the only you  other than the fact that two eddies would be amazing on it’s own, i realized that you don’t know how it feels to have your attention it’s so intense dude you’re so intense in the best way, of course i can only hope that i get to experience that feeling more in the future maybe in the present, too p.s. i got your book again yesterday, here’s hoping second time’s the charm -H

Yesterday, Eddie thinks, he should have been more present and paid attention to what H’s note said. He’d sort of gone into tunnel vision when he’d been - however jokingly - accused of not understanding one of his books. It kind of made him wish for the first time that he could talk back. He’d contemplated just walking up to Hagan during lunch, but decided not to. He wouldn’t want to make anyone suspicious of the guy, no matter how much of an asshole he tends to be to everyone else. Eddie just isn’t that kind of person. 

The audacity of a jock who’s admitted to only reading books for school - and for Eddie - to allege that Eddie needs to read a book more than once in order to understand it. 

Has he read all of his favorite books more than once? Yes, but that’s only because they’re his favorites!

And does he notice something new nearly every reread? Also yes, but he chooses to believe that’s what Tolkien intended. It’s like a scavenger hunt of foreshadowing and little things to get excited about even when you know the ending. 

Anyway, Eddie is decidedly less preoccupied today and he’s been wondering what book H is reading.

His curiosity leads him to venture into the school’s library before he heads to the lunchroom. 

He tries to recall which books he’d checked out the last couple of months. Once he’s compiled his mental list, he tracks them down one by one. Eddie checks the card that’s in a pocket inside the front cover of each book on the off chance that Hagan’s name is logged on any of them - it’s not. 

Eddie does find it interesting, though, to see a pattern in a few of the names he does see. Those that pop up multiple times are mostly people he recognizes from Hellfire.

He slowly eliminates each book until he’s left with one that’s not on the shelf. The Return of The King. The last book in the The Lord of the Rings series. 

Most staff - like the students - at Hawkins High aren’t very happy when they see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson approaching them. The school librarian isn’t one of them, though. Eddie’s been traipsing through this library for the better part of four years. 

Before he’d procured his prickly personality and style as a defense mechanism to the hostile environment of high school in rural Indiana, Eddie found shelter among the creaky furniture, shelves lined with books, and Ms. Hewitt.

She’s seen his sorry face more times than you can count and has always greeted him with a smile. Today is no different. 

He asks her about The Return of the King.

“Someone beat ya’ to it. Nice young man, he was.”

And while Eddie wouldn’t necessarily refer to Tommy Hagan as nice, he would for H. 

Eddie thanks and bids her farewell and then he’s off to lunch. 

He’s still having trouble conflating Hagan and his better half as the same person. 

So, H read the last book of an already complicated series without any backstory. No wonder he was so fucking confused. Eddie laughs to himself just imagining it. Against his better judgment, he’s hopelessly endeared. 

He’s late to lunch, but it’s not as if he was planning on paying for what the school thinks passes for food, anyway. 

When he takes his seat at the head of the table, Jeff places an apple from his homemade meal in front of him without even looking his way or pausing his debate with Gareth (the freshman who’d flipped Eddie’s world upside down by unknowingly revealing H’s identity as the one and only Tommy fucking Hagan).

Eddie absentmindedly munches on the fruit as he takes up his usual lunchtime hobby of gazing at a certain jock’s table. He finds it sort of odd when Harrington - Steve - forces Hagan to play musical chairs or some shit, but Eddie’s not intrigued enough to care, really. He does catch sight of Hagan’s red face and clenched jaw, though. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the guy was pissed. 

The change of seats provides Eddie with something more worthwhile to look at, so he’s not complaining. Steve seems in high spirits, and Eddie feels his own mood brighten in return.

When their shared elective comes along, Eddie finds himself jittery as he awaits the boy’s arrival. It makes him feel sort of silly, but not enough to lessen the excitement when Steve finally arrives.

The jock takes his seat between Eddie and Carol and turns to greet the latter.

“Carol, Robin.”

“Steve,” the girls say simultaneously without looking in his direction at all. Eddie doesn’t pretend to know what’s going on there, and he honestly doesn’t want to.

Steve then turns to his left to face Eddie, and the last thing he needs is to be limited to the same dry conversation - if you could even call it that - so he cuts him off once he starts.

“Ed-”

“Steven Harold Harrington III. How now?” Eddie has never been the best at English accents, but he figures it gets the point across just fine.

Steve’s face splits into a grin before he forces his expression into a stoic one. He continues to adopt the most heinous English accent Eddie has ever heard - including his own. “That’s His Majesty Steven Harold Harrington III to you, Edwin,” he says snottily.

Eddie can’t help but break into his own grin. Never mind the fact that Eddie’s name isn’t fucking Edwin, but Edward. Few people embrace his antics, let alone engage in them. 

Eddie is so gone on this boy. He was kidding himself thinking he could stay away. 

Steve Harrington might just be the end of him.

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[sweetbans29]

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[kurikive]

MINECRAFT — 10. d-day

Y/N went out fast the night before. Her reasoning for the whole melatonin thing being her insomnia. She feared if she slept too late she wouldn’t wake up early the next day, but given she borderline overdosed on sleeping gummies, she would have not woken up at all if it weren’t for her friends.

NewJeans’ manager had told her to meet at the PC room at 8 in the morning to discuss some final things and prepare the computers so that they could start the filming at 10.

It was just going to be a casual Minecraft gameplay with the NewJeans girls. They planned to play Build Battle for the first half and Bedwars for the second half. The member with the most wins across both minigames would have to battle a 1v1 in Minecraft Hunger Games with Y/N to win the prize.

Oh, right. The prize. It really wasn’t much more than a box of expensive beef, which surely would trigger the competitive nerve in some of the members. The video was going to be filmed for Y/N's channel, so she wasn’t going to be the one competing for it anyways. And yes, she did buy the meat with her own money, but considering how much she’s getting paid right now and how much she’s going to get paid, it’s really nothing.

7:19. Y/N was already wearing the outfit Hyewon had picked for her, deeply breathing in and out to calm her nerves. Anton and Jiwoo smile as they try to talk her into departing Nervousville and taking the bus to Peaceburg. Also to take the bus to the PC room, because as popular as their friend is, she still uses public transportation. She says it’s better for the environment, and although it is, it still causes her to get recognized from time to time.

“What if I bail?”

“I’ll kill you. No joke. I’m a nepo baby, I can get away with it.” Anton says. Y/N can’t not believe him.

“Okay! Well, see you guys later!”

It’s been twenty minutes since Y/N arrived at the PC room. They chose one she used to go to a lot throughout middle and high school. It looks a lot bigger without people.

Y/N had brought her three best cameras for this and was currently setting them up. She didn’t really know where the NewJeans members were going to sit, but she was setting them up so that the members’ faces could (hypothetically) all be seen.

She didn’t really know when the girls were going to arrive and it was eating at her brain. Every few minutes a rhythm of snaps was heard from the Y/N, a habit to try and calm her nerves. Every other second she pulled on the side of her black jeans, accidentally pulling at the skin of her thighs below the cloth.

One of the staff took note of these little quirks and patterns. A young woman approached her slowly, but Y/N only took notice of her when she spoke, “You don’t need to be nervous!” A comforting smile tugged at the woman’s lips, “The girls are super nice and they’re very excited to work with you.”

Y/N, stunned at her sudden appearance, only bowed with a nervous giggle. “Thank you…” She said lowly.

“I’m Ha Sooyoung. Stylist.” The woman extends her hand towards the younger, who shyly shakes her hand. “How old are you, by the way?”

“Twenty… I'm.” The unwanted fashion of mixing up her words comes back to haunt Y/N in the most unconventional situations. She just hopes it doesn’t happen in front of the members.

Sooyoung smiles at the speed in which the younger’s face flushes a rose color. “You have a really nice face, you know?” The comment throws Y/N off. Not in a bad way, of course. She’s heard endless compliments about her appearance; she’s very aware she’s good looking. But the remark coming from a professional stylist definitely surprises her a bit.

The woman, noticing Y/N’s expression, is quick to retaliate in case of a misunderstanding, “Not in a weird way, I swear!” The older waves her hands as if trying to shake away the other’s concerns (there weren’t any). “I’m much older than you, please. I meant, like, God…”

Y/N picks up on Sooyoung’s frustration and tries to fix the situation, “No! No, I get it. It’s okay, Sooyoung-ssi.” Sooyoung doesn’t know if she’s laughing at the formality or at her own mistake, but it’s funny regardless.

“I meant,” the woman clears her throat, “You have a face that’s great for modeling. Have you ever tried it?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think brands want a YouTuber as a model.” A sheepish laugh leaves Y/N’s lips at her bad joke. Thankfully Sooyoung laughs with her.

“Hey, well, they might after this! Who knows?” Sooyoung takes something out of her bag while the both share giggles, “If you ever want to try it out, I’m a photographer on the side. Could help you out, y’know?”

Y/N’s eyes widen when Sooyoung hands her a business card, phone and e-mail on the bottom, but instead of her name, ‘YVES’ is written on the top in bold letters.

“That’s my personal phone number. Unnie is just fine, by the way.” Y/N receives another one of the older’s charming smiles with a bow and a “Thank you, unnie!” before Sooyoung pats her shoulder and leaves her side at the sound of her name being called.

“Oh! The girls are gonna be here soon. Get prepared.”

And Y/N’s back to pulling at her jeans.

masterlist | next

taglist # @yumtooki @saysirhc @modanisgf @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @miinatozakiii @hotluvlet @mym1na @keiji-jin @wintersgff @wonyoungssi @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @shozeu @nwjnsloona @kaypanaq @pandafuriosa60 @linnnsworld @hwabyul4wheesun

[bonknigirlinthehood]

I went nuts upon discovering Calcharo cares about his mercenary members so much. Even the game itself said he has a strong fatherly instinct ... .HOW COULD I LIVE knowing this man is such a FAMILY MAN???༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

As an artist, I realize the power I hold, but as a uni student, I also realize the debuff I have to face that is TIME MANAGEMENT. I haven't drawn anything for a week now because of how busy I am, AND WHEN I TELL YOU I'M STARVING FOR CALCHARO CONTENT.

I had to feed myself using fanfiction as an emergency meal.

Content: basically Calcharo (try) being a father (which he does a good job).

Calcharo has a very strong fatherly instinct, as shown by how he keeps his lads in check before and after a mission. So imagine if one day, by accident, he ended up with a baby…

Part of him wants to take care of it because after all, it's his baby. Yet his other side keeps reality-checking him, saying how dangerous it is for the baby to be raised by someone who keeps venturing into the danger of Tacet Discord everyday, especially in a dangerous environment since he is the leader of a mercenary group.

However, most of his members would support and help him take care of the baby. They encourage their leader to keep it instead of giving it to an orphanage.

“Leader, do you really think the baby will grow happily and well-fed in an orphanage? You do know some of us came from there, right?”

“We'll help you take care of them!, they're our little landlord now!”

Of course, Calcharo couldn't refuse. They even already made a baby crib for the baby, even the medics going as far as to research about baby foods and formulas to help him ease his burden (which he highly appreciated).

This man tried his best to give as much affection as possible to this little bundle of joy, knowing he never received one and always emotionally constipated. He asked Jiyan if he could enroll his child into a preschool in Jinzhou, in which the general happily helped.

It was not easy for a dangerous man like Calcharo to have a dog, let alone a child. But after experiencing it firsthand, he concluded that raising one is not that bad. Sure, he was having a hard time sleeping now, but seeing his baby's face every morning has been worth it.

I'm pretty sure Calcharo is the type of man who makes sure his kiddo is prepped thoroughly for the day before actually starting his own day. He would wake, shower them, brush their hair, and feed his child before work. His room that was always gloomy and smells like iron now filled with toys and smelled like a baby cologne instead.

I knew this man would be good at changing diapers and making milk🍼and his baby probably only wants to drink milk made by him since the measurements are just perfect.

But because of his occupation, Calcharo had no choice but to hide his baby from the world. He does feel bad about it though, keeping them locked in the base with only so much entertainment he and his mercenary members can offer. That's why every once in a while, he would bring them to Jinzhou city, walking around all day and enjoying Lingyang performance. Calcharo even bothers to actually dress like the locals more, he even entertains the pre-school flyers the teachers give out there.

And how surprised Jiyan was when Calcharo offered another deal in exchange he and his members went in and out of Jinzhou city freely. He wanted to enroll his child into Jinzhou’s preschool, and possibly until they graduate high school, that's why he needs to be able to enter the city freely since his mercenary gang itself is located outside the city.

At first, Jiyan offered to give him a house inside the city, but after much consideration, Calcharo told the general he might need more time thinking about it.

All in all, Calcharo is a very responsible man. He loves and adores his little one, and tries his best giving them the best childhood he could offer–despite never having a proper one himself–though there's also some things he couldn't give, he sincerely hopes they would forgive him someday for it.

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations No.23

*just based on my experiences only take what resonates

Quite a few people with Chiron in Gemini are singers, talented ones too

We always talk about intuition of Pisces and Scorpio but Cancer placements are also crazy intuitive. I feel like you really can’t fool someone about how you’re feeling with Cancer in the big 6.

Air moons tend to catch feelings when someone is unavailable; earth moons tend to catch feelings when someone is more stable/ambitious than them; fire moons tend to catch feelings when someone is passionate and courageous; water moons tend to catch feelings when someone has sort of dreamy/otherworldly energy to them (that unspoken spark really gets to water moons)

If you wanna seduce Venus in 9th, travel with them or teach them something new

if you want to win over someone with Venus in 2nd/Taurus you should get them gifts (can apply to earth moons too imo- as long as the gift is useful or high end for them)

Quietly I think Capricorn in the big 6 can make you just as domestic as cancer in the big 6, but a Capricorn is usually going to talk about/pay attention their public image more

Someone said the only thing they can’t deal with is someone throwing it back in your face when you try to help them/give them advice (like the other person saying you don’t care or that you’re just in it for yourself) and yeah that’s Virgo mars

Moon square/opposition to the ascendant could have people assume you’re putting on a personality/faking something

Saturn in Pisces is another placement to make sure you watch your mental health, all of Saturn’s consequences come at your subconscious

Do water risings seem to have a theme of like not trying to let their perspectives be colored by some sort of sadness ? (Cancer Asc - nostalgia /which isn’t always sad but if you hear cancer placements talk about it then they often filter their own nostalgia through a certain sadness; Scorpio Asc - traumatic experiences that shaped their perspective; Pisces Asc - a feeling of like ennui, a certain kind of listlessness)

Neptune in the houses can show frequent locations if your dreams (3rd house- school, childhood neighborhoods; 4th house- childhood home, places you’d visit a lot with your family; 6th house the workplace; 9th house places you’ve traveled to or want to go to, etc)

Something we don’t talk about with Chiron in 1st is that it’s an energy amplifier imo. So when you’re healed you give off healing energy, but when you’re unhealed or even toxic you subconsciously spread that energy around (or maybe consciously, a lot of people I’ve known that belittle and nitpick others from a place of insecurity have Chiron in 1st)

If mars aspects your 4th house you may have grown up fighting and arguing a lot, especially with your family but in your childhood environment in general

Taurus placements will have their whole day impacted by a disappointing meal (especially moons- also mars imo)

Aries placements have trouble maturing sometimes bc their sign is then youngest of the zodiac (Pisces is the old man but this can make them unclear and disconnected too)

Aquarius in the big 3 (especially Aquarius moon) tend to be really good at playing detached and calculating (in real life too lol but I’m thinking of Rosamund Pike and how well she sold her cool girl speech from gone girl - she’s a double Aquarius) (also in real life people aren’t always so predictable/controllable so this calculating behavior can go sideways sometimes)

I love how the Pluto in Scorpio generation is making all of this mainstream art about transformation and healing generational trauma (everything everywhere all at once is what I was watching when I thought of this)

Also I’m still working on how to utilize degree theory best but Daniel kwan (one of the everything everywhere all at once directors) has Scorpio moon at a cancer degree (19) and his most acclaimed movie so far is about depression, trauma, and generational curses (I love everything everywhere all at once pls watch it, I cried 3 times when I watched it and I’m a Capricorn moon so you know that means a lot lol)

[mymanyfandomramblings]

One thing I don't really see anyone talking about with regards to Gravity Falls is the parallel's between Ford's apprenticeship and Mabeland. Many, many times, the question has been raised 'should Dipper have accepted Ford's apprenticeship', but no-one ever argues 'should Mabel have stayed in Mabeland', for obvious reasons, the show portrays one as a no-brainer and the other as a complex decision. But I think the two situations parallel one another nicely.

For Dipper, taking Ford's apprenticeship is definitely the more attractive option. He doesn't appear to have a lot of friends in Piedmont, has been historically bullied and may still be, and Dipper generally doesn't want to deal with the trials of growing up. Ford meanwhile, basically treats Dipper like an equal, not like a kid, encourages Dipper, and allows Dipper to pursue his interests to the fullest. However, to take the apprenticeship, Dipper will be cloistering himself in an environment in which he never has to do the things he's scared of, he avoids confronting the realities that he doesn't want to deal with, and he'll miss out on going through life with his sister.

For Mabel, staying in Mabeland is the more attractive option. There's an apocalypse raging outside, her brother is growing away from her, she's going to have to leave friends that it's implied are the best she's ever had, and we know that she too, has been bullied in the past, and may still be, and Wendy's well and truly terrified her about the concept of growing up. In Mabeland however, Mabel can continue to live in a charmed reality, surrounded by the things she's interested in and in an environment where she's constantly being enabled, and any dissenters are ejected. However, to remain in Mabeland, Mabel is cloistering herself in an environment where she never has to do the things she's scared of, she avoids confronting the realities she doesn't want to deal with, and she's pushed away one of the most important parts of her life: her brother.

During Dipper's trial, we as viewers see Mabel's change of heart as Dipper shows her that despite the trials the real world has thrown at both of them, that they've always had each others backs, and Dipper realises that too (there was a really good essay on this a while back by @cryoalliums ). Even though they're both scared, and both wanting to avoid the reality of adolescence and high school and unpredictability, they both realise through Dipper's trial that by burying themselves in their respective fantasies, they'll lose the one person who's always had their back: each other. Whether or not it's bullies or a giant robot, the twins have always had each other as a support system, and an ally, and they both realise during the trial that they'd rather fight by one another's side than hide from their problems.

So sure, Dipper could have taken the apprenticeship. He could have chosen to take the tailor-made, one-on-one advanced education that allowed him to pursue his interests to the fullest. But Mabel could also have chosen to stay in the world surrounded by her interests, where she was safe from the things she wanted to avoid. I think it's interesting that these two situations are so paralleled, and yet it's rarely discussed.

[cognacdelights]

play wicked games, win wicked prizes [2]

gif by @spacedean.

my supernatural masterlist

play wicked games, win wicked prizes [1]

summary: she craves male validation. he's the best high she's ever gotten. now they're both stuck in a sick and twisted game of foreplay that neither are willing to lose.

warnings: a whole fuck tonne of daddy issues. self-esteem issues. abandonment issues. i am well aware that this is not a healthy relationship and is for entertainment purposes only. sexual content and themes. praise kink. mentions of death and grief. swearing. alcohol use. religious undertones. small age gap romance.

author's note: sorry that it took so long to post. i had a few issues. but we're here. also, i got carried away. it's now going to be in three parts, but i promise that the final part will be worth the wait. minors have been warned. do not interact.

Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel out of boredom. His heavy metal mixtape filled the background as he watched carefully out the windscreen, observing the world before him. He was always watching. Scrutinising. That’s how he managed to stay ten steps ahead — by knowing his environment, noticing when the tiniest of details were off. His eyes scoured every inch of the scene that unfolded in front of him, followed people and their every movement, and noticed every little detail.

The faint smell of chlorine hung in the late-spring air and smoke-like clouds loomed in the distance; there was a flash thunderstorm brewing nearby. The bearded barista’s apron pocket was stuffed full of dollar bills, yet in the six hours that he had been parked there he’d only seen six or seven customers wander inside the upmarket coffee house — and one of them was Sam; he was most likely stealing from the cash register. Short-changing customers and pocketing the difference. And the cops were clearly rattled by the deaths at the boarding school; three patrol cars had cruised past in the last thirty minutes, and there were extra patrols on foot. They were on high alert.

The door to the Impala opened, and Dean instinctively whipped his head towards the passenger side. His malachite eyes found Maggie — dressed in a modest, high-neck blouse and a long, flowing skirt that grazed her ankles. Her dark locks were neatly braided into a sensible bun at the nape of her neck, and a natural layer of make-up cleverly hid the garish welt that stained her cheek. She looked positively prudent. Respectable, even. He almost didn’t recognise her.

“Nice get up,” he teased, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards into a half-smirk as he turned the music down.

Maggie responded with a tight-lipped, sardonic smile — then flipped him her middle finger — as she climbed into the passenger side. She reached into the depths of her leather purse and retrieved two matching pieces of cloth; they were tied neatly into parcels and wreaked of flower-like herbs. She threw them carelessly towards Dean as the door slammed shut behind her.

“Hex bags?” Dean raised an untamed eyebrow. He curiously untied the leather string that held the cloth together and peered inside at the contents. Rabbit’s teeth, bird bones, and lavender.

“Hex bags,” the feisty brunette confirmed. Her fingers found the clear buttons of her blouse and swiftly began unbuttoning — the high-necked garment uncomfortable and suffocating around her throat. “Matching, best friend hex bags. I found them in both their dorm rooms.” Oh, the irony of a witch in a Catholic boarding school.

Dragging his tongue along the dry ridges of his bottom lip as his gaze followed her quick-moving fingers, he watched in anticipation as she exposed her chest to him once again without any hint of hesitation. As the black, lace fringes of her bralette were exposed he cleared his throat and diverted his attention back to the contents of the hex bags. “So, uh—” he twiddled with the bird bones, fighting the urge to take her half-naked body in once again, “—that’s great. We just find the jealous third wheel and case closed.”  

“If only it was that easy.” Maggie ridded herself of the god-awful, itchy blouse. She clumsily kicked off the kitten heels that had rubbed her heels to glory and pushed the waistband of the skirt down her thighs. “Missy Braun was a resident Regina George, and Imogan was her Gretchen Weiners.”

Dean peered towards her out of the corner of his eyes and simply blinked; Maggie may as well have been speaking a foreign language.

Rolling her umber eyes at his lack of pop culture knowledge, she explained, “Missy and Imogen terrorised the school.” Her long, pleated skirt fell into a crumpled pile in the footwell and was soon joined by her tan-coloured tights. “There are about three-hundred potential Sabrina the Teenage Witch’s on roll that those girls have humiliated in some kind of way, and we only have two days to find her. They’re shipping them all back to Mommy and Daddy for an early summer vacation come Friday.”

“Looks like we got some work to do,” he mused in his usual, sarcastic tone. It was then that he caught sight of her in the rear-view mirror — round ass shamelessly in the air and covered only by the thin string of her thong as she leant over the seat, reaching for her clothes in the backseat. Jesus Christ, she really was going to be the death of him. He adjusted himself in his seat, finding a more comfortable position that kept his semi-erection a secret.

“Where’s Sam?” she questioned casually. Maggie had noticed the empty coffee cup that had his name and order scrawled across the side, discarded in the cup holder, and the noticeable lack of his presence. There was an unmentioned tension that hung in the air between them; it surrounded them, holding them in a tight coil and squeezing until the pressure overflowed in way of a petty sibling squabble. Even though Maggie had grown up with the Winchester Brothers, their bickering still drove her to the point of insanity.

“Gone for a walk.”

“Okay—” she twisted her half-naked body back around and slid into a sitting position, t-shirt and shorts in hand, and asked directly, “—what the hell is going on with you two?”

“Nothing,” Dean deflected, folding his arms across his muscular chest in an obvious display of defence, “we’re fine.”

Maggie sent him an unrelenting glare. One that Dean was no match for. He broke instantly with a long exhale and threw his head back against the leather seat.

He was quiet for a second longer, formulating the words in his mind. “He shacked up with Amelia when I was in purgatory,” Dean admitted with a careful choice of words — cleverly calculated to keep his deepest and darkest emotions from surfacing.

“I know.” That was all she said. I know. It was tactical really. She knew Dean Winchester far too well. In fact, she knew the man better than he knew himself, and this was one of his best self-defence tactics. Give just about enough to satisfy them without giving anything away at all. Keep everybody at a distance so when you give an inch, they’ll think it’s a mile. But that didn’t wash with Maggie. Maggie knew better. Maggie used the same damn tactics herself.

She merely shimmied a pair of ripped, denim shorts up her thighs.

It took several moments of an awkward silence before Dean broke once more. “So—” he reluctantly delved further, “—instead of looking for me, he was holed up in a motel room doing the horizontal line dance with Florence Nightingale.”

“First of all—” Maggie pulled a t-shirt that he distinctly recognised as being one of his own over her head, “—Florence Nightingale was a human nurse, not a dog nurse. You’re thinking of Dr Doolittle.” She tied the hem at her abdomen into a crop. “And secondly, I know.”

“If you know all of this, then why are you asking me what’s going on?” His head swivelled to face her abruptly in frustration.

“Because you’re being an asshole, and you’re fobbing me off with some bullshit excuse to shut me up,” she answered, casually shrugging her shoulders. Tugging at the elastic in her hair, she released the braided bun and combed her fingers through her long, sleek locks. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Dean.”

He threw his head back against the seat once more, rubbing the palms of his hands over his face. A loud, defeated groan echoed throughout the Impala; this was the last conversation he wanted to have with a half-mast hard on. “Can we just drop this already?”

Of course, in true Maggie May fashion, she ignored his very obvious pleas to leave this subject well alone. “You’re hurt that he didn’t come looking for you, aren’t you?” she spit-balled her thoughts on the situation, “you’re upset that he moved on without you.”

Dean sent her a look. It was one that she couldn’t quite interpret. A cocktail of emotions swirled around his tired eyes as they glazed over ever so subtly. His stubble-lined lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke, voice considerably timid. “I wouldn’t have stopped until I’d gotten Sam back if he was the one stuck in purgatory.”

“Dean—” her whole demeanour shifted, softened, as she scooted closer to him. Her arm rested atop the back of the seat and her body twisted towards him, her legs haphazardly hanging over his. “There’s a few things that you need to remember here. Sam isn’t you. Your childhood was a lot different to Sam’s. You were raised to protect him at all costs — hell, you raised him yourself. You weren’t just his brother. You were Mom and Dad too. Yeah, Sam was taught family above everything, but he didn’t have the responsibility of someone else’s life in his hands.”

He watched cautiously as she leant forwards, the gentle palm of her hand resting on his shoulder. It was such a simple gesture, but the warmth of her touch comforted him immensely. “It just—” he really did struggle with emotions, even if it was easier with Maggie, “—feels like a punch in the gut.”

“You know, deep down, that Sam never wanted this life. He went to Stanford. He applied to law school. He wanted to be a lawyer, and get married, and buy a house with a white picket fence, and have two point five kids. The whole shebang. He wanted a normal life. And Sam grieved in the same way that a normal person would. He put you to rest and built a new life for himself, and he just so happened to find someone that he really cares about in the process. I might not like her, or agree with what he did, but I understand why he did it. He made a normal life for himself.”

Gradually, he melted into her delicate touch; he found solace in her words and the strokes of her fingers against his skin. He knew that what she was saying made sense, and he knew that she was right, but it didn’t curb the anguish that consumed the very pit of his stomach.

“Sam loves you very much Dean, and he idolises you. Hell, that’s probably why he left this woman that he loves to jump back into a life that he doesn’t want. To be with his big brother. And yeah, he probably feels guilty for not looking for you. For being happy with Amelia whilst you were fighting for your life in purgatory. But you can’t blame him, or even hate him, for going after what he really wanted. He thought you were dead. We all did. You just disappeared. How was he supposed to know where you were, or what happened to you?”

Dean simply exhaled in response. Words were too difficult in that moment. Mostly because everything that Maggie was saying was right. She had rationalised everything for him, plain and simple for him to understand. Now he just had to come to terms with it.

“I’m not taking his side—” Maggie reaffirmed with a tender tone, “—I’m actually on your side.” She dragged her finger carefully down the length of his neck and traced the glimmering metal chain of his cross necklace, toying with it. “I’m on the side of you not holding onto all this resentment and hatred for your brother, that I know you love very deeply. I’m on the side of letting whatever this right now is go and moving on with your own life. You’ll regret it.”

“And what about you?” his eyes flicked up to meet her own.  

A reticent laugh spilled from her throat, “that’s a lot to unpack and we’ve had enough chick flick moments for today.” She couldn’t ignore the obviously elephant in the room any longer that she herself was harbouring a stubborn grudge against the youngest Winchester, too. But she was going to give it her damned best effort. She chose to ignore the disapproving shake of his head that she’d earned.

The fox-eyed brunette reached upwards and placed a loving peck against his cheek before he could respond, signifying the end of their conversation. Her gentle lips lingered against his skin, replaced only with a fervent burning sensation. She untangled her bruised legs from his body and shuffled back into the passenger side.

Dean gave her thigh an appreciative squeeze. A silent thank you, and a hopeful reminder that he was there to listen whenever she was ready.

Maggie’s lips twitched ever so slightly into a smile as she peered out the window. Suddenly, she was one with the clouds. That familiar jolt of electric that she felt every time he touched her.

Maggie and The Winchesters had committed numerous crimes over the years. Breaking and Entering. Impersonating a Federal Agent. Grand Theft Auto. There had to be a case for kidnapping in there somewhere with all the times they’d shoved a demon into their trunk and hit gas. However, stealing confidential information about private school girls and proceeding to stalk them in every area of their sordid lives might just take the biscuit. If anything, this was the one that was going to get them caught. This was the one that was going to stick. It didn’t look good from any angle, and there wasn’t a single explanation that was going to make it any less creepy.

Maggie sat in the leather armchair — her bare leg pulled up in front of her and her spine arched at an unhealthy angle as she scrolled through the social media site. An open, room-temperature beer stood beside her laptop, always within touching distance, with a crumpled-up register of all three hundred and sixteen students beside it. Condensation from her thawing beer had dribbled onto the paper, staining and blurring the ink of her rambling notes. They would only make sense to her anyway.

Sam perched opposite her, fixated on his own laptop. His long hair was dishevelled and tucked behind his ears, and his pin-strip shirt had been unbuttoned to reveal the navy t-shirt beneath. His own beer had gone relatively untouched, now flat and bordering on stale.

“Well, it looks like the field hockey team were out of town during both murders,” his smooth voice filled the room, airing out his findings. His bloodshot eyes peeled away from his brightly lit screen long enough to meet with hers and capture her attention. “We can rule out an Emmy Palladino, Victoria Harding, Shannon Brackenridge, Kayleigh Dougherty, and a Fallon Carpenter. There’s others but they’re not tagged.”

In one swift motion, she placed the pen between her teeth and pulled the ball point free. She searched through the seemingly endless list of suspect names and crossed them off as they appeared.

The harsh taps of Sam’s fingers hitting against the keys sounded through the motel room. Then, he spoke again, reeling off another list of names at an unhelpful speed, “—ah. Verity Montrose, Daphne Alcott, Annaleise—”

“Slow the fuck down,” Maggie grumbled as she tried to keep up with him. Her pen scratching against the thin paper, and the hard wood of the table, filled the awkward silence between.

Until it didn’t. And Sam was left uncomfortably waiting for permission to continue. He looked anywhere but the laptop screen before him as an icky feeling swirled in his stomach; there was just something about digitally stalking teenaged schoolgirls that made him feel dirty. Even though it was rationalised as being a part of the job, it still wasn’t his favourite thing to do.

“You know—” she piped up, popping the cap back on her pen with a purpose, “— you really hurt him, right?”

“Him, or you?” Sam questioned. His dark, thick eyebrows furrowed together, almost accusingly as he stared towards the petite brunette.

“Both,” Maggie admitted candidly. Her posture straightened as her shoulders fell backwards in a defensive move and a blazing glare bounced back towards him. “But this is about Dean.”

“Yeah—” he let out a breath, unfamiliar with the vicious heat of Maggie’s anger being directed towards him, “—I sorta gathered that. He’s giving me the cold shoulder and benching me on cases like he’s Dad.” He sat back, his back falling against the stiffness of the chair. “He won’t talk to me.”

“It’s Dean, he isn’t going to.”

Sam shrugged his broad shoulders out of exasperation, a look of helplessness etched into his fuzzy features. “I don’t know what he wants from me anymore,” he admitted solemnly, “I left Amelia for him. I jumped back on the road at the drop of his hat. I gave up my job, and the first place that I’ve called home in… forever. I don’t know what else he wants me to do.”

“He’s a stubborn asshole sometimes—” Maggie agreed, “—but it only ever comes from a good place.”

“You’re telling me?” he let out an indignant scoff, his voice raising to a pitch he never thought he’d take with her, “—if he’s not digging me out for stupid things, he’s giving me the silent treatment. He won’t listen to anything that I say. Everything is done Dean’s way, in Dean’s time, exactly how Dean wants it. Whether it’s right or not. I’m almost thirty and still being treated like a child. He’s no better than Dad at this point.” His boot-clad foot propped against the wooden leg of the table as he leaned backwards in his chair. “I should have known you would take his side. You always do.”

“This isn’t about taking sides. This is about you two not killing each other so we can get this job done and move on with our damn lives.” She was surprisingly calm in her response, despite her defensive flags being up. The very tips of her ears tinged an angry shade of rouge and her pruned brows dipped inwards. Her tone wasn’t it’s usual melody by any means — and her tongue dripped with poison — but she refrained from raising her voice. “Dean raised you. Dean dragged your ass up and did a damn good job of it given the circumstances. So, excuse him if the lines between brother and father are a little blurred here.”

Sam ran his fingers through his long locks, frustration evident in the way his face contorted into a frown. He opened his mouth to reply but was abruptly silenced when she continued; she wasn’t afraid to speak over him and make sure that her opinion was heard.

“You know, Dean told me that he wouldn’t have stopped until he found you. He would die for you — hell, he has died for you. He sold his soul for you. He went to Hell for you. And you just gave up on him at the first hurdle.” Maggie grabbed her beer and took a long sip, allowing the rage that was slowly building in the pit of her stomach to subside before proceeding. “Dean has a right to be upset that the brother that he loves, that he gave his life for, didn’t even bother to go looking for him. He has a right to be upset that the same sentiment wasn’t returned.”

“Maggie, that’s not what happ—”

“I’m not finished,” she cut him off curtly. Her dark, cinnamon eyes bore into his as she spoke soberly. “And he’s right to bench you from the job. You’ve been out of the game for a year. You’re out of practice and your head isn’t in the game. You’re still caught up on Amelia and that’s going to get somebody killed. The best place for you right now is doing research. And it’s just tough shit that you don’t like that.”

He was left in a pensive silence; she left him to soak up her words, to digest them fully. And he did. Sam saw things a little clearer, but that didn’t mean he liked what he saw. He often liked to live in a world where Dean, his father, and the lifestyle that he had been born into were the root cause of everything that had gone wrong in his life. And, most times, one or the other were to blame. However, Sam often failed to accept his own responsibility in things. After all, it was easier to blame Dean and his father.

Although, after several, drawn-out seconds, she couldn’t resist spilling the words that flooded her brain once more. “Maybe I am taking his side—” she contemplated aloud, “—but, this time, he deserves it.”

“So, what does he want?” he asked genuinely, “an apology?”

Maggie merely shrugged her petite shoulders. “An apology wouldn’t be the worst place to start.”

He raised an untamed eyebrow as he questioned cautiously, “and what about you?”

She stared at her beer on the table. The label was soggy and peeling off the side of the bottle. Small, carbonated bubbles rose from the very bottom of the bottle to the quarter line, where the liquid stopped. “I want the last year of my life back,” she told him. The viper had retreated and had left a door mouse in it’s place.

“Mags—” Sam breathed out unsteadily, still feeling the heat of their exchange, “—I’m sorry.”

“You turfed me out on my ass and told me to git,” Maggie recounted with a detached tone. Her cold gaze peeked above the rim of the bottle and pierced through him. “Dean was gone and you just left me. Alone. You, of all freaking people, left me alone. It took me weeks to catch up with you in Texas. Weeks. And when I finally did, you tossed me out like I was some piece of trash. I had no one, and I needed you. But you were too busy cosying up with Amelia. You didn’t give a shit about me anymore.”

“You ever thought that, maybe, I didn’t want to be found?” he spat back with sharp words, each syllable lacerating her diminished defence. He dragged his tongue along the upper row of his teeth. “I was grieving for my brother in my own way, and that didn’t involve you, Maggie.”

She was overcome with emotion. A fuck tonne of heavy, painful emotions. All of the grief that had consumed her — strangled her, choked her, suffocated her — over the past year had finally come to a head. It had churned her stomach sick for twelve long months; it had burned the inside of her throat; and it had decayed her insides until she was nothing but a walking meat sack of anguish and despair. Not anymore. She was about to expel that demon.

“So was I,” she screeched, her bottom lip rippling ever so slightly as her eyes burned with salt-laden tears, “I was grieving Dean, too.” Her chest heaved up and down as she took deep breaths; exhaustion poured out of her from every angle as all of the pent-up emotions from the past year began to creep to the surface and seep out.

“That’s enough—” Dean’s gravel-like tone filled the motel room as he appeared in the doorway, a take-out bag full of waffle fries and chicken tenders clutched against his chest, “—the both of you.”

The palms of her hands pressed against the table as she pushed herself to standing. Maggie made for the motel room door, a well of tears fighting to escape against the barricade of her waterline. Her heart thudded tenfold against her chest when she felt his ring-cladded fingers wrap around her wrist as she attempted to slip past him, and a high-pitched ringing blared through her ears. She simply shook her head at him, and slid herself from his grip, before disappearing out the door.

Maggie had vowed to sleep in her truck that night. The stubborn, defiant side of her had reared its ugly head and was seemingly there to stay. A permanent scowl had etched itself into her fair features — her full, rose lips pulled into a downturned pout and deep-rooted frown lines crinkled her forehead. Her umber eyes were reddened from the sting of tears, and her flushed cheeks were stained with streaks of strays that slipped past her reinforced defences. An empty cone of waffle fries and a half-used barbecue dip occupied her passenger side seat, as an empty beer bottle sat, in pride of place, in the cup holder.

However, as the clock ticked over into the am and the temperatures ran cruelly bitter, Maggie begrudgingly relinquished. She tip-toed back into the dark motel room and slipped into bed, beside Dean. She was careful with her movements, slow and steady, as she lifted the quilted blanket and nestled herself inside.

Dean stirred when he felt the spring-filled mattress dip, yet his eyes remained closed. A shiver danced along his spine in an elegant ballet sequence as she burrowed her ice-like toes between his legs, pressing them against his calves. His sweltering skin burned at the contact and felt her feet thawing against him. God, he hated with an undying passion when she did that.

“Maggie May—” he let out a low grumble, “—get them goddamn feet off me.”

“It’s just until they warm up,” she whispered back, her voice dainty and quiet. It was never just until they warmed up.

His burly arm casually stretched across the flattened pillows in an open invitation to the petite brunette. She currently resided on the opposite side of the bed, clinging onto the edge of the mattress. He knew that she would come to him in her own time — when she was good and ready. She always did. However, for the sake of an extra half an hour of much-needed shut-eye, there was no harm in hurrying that along. “Get here,” he rasped deeply.

Maggie shuffled closer, nestling into his side. As she laid her cheek against the bare skin of his chest, it burned. Dean emanated heat, from everywhere. Her arm lay casually across his stomach as she burrowed her feet further between his legs. She felt the gravelly vibrations of his disapproving grunts as a small smile curled the corners of her lips upwards.

The palm of his hand found her back — his thumb gently caressing the bumps of her spine. Slow, tender movements eventually faded into nothing as he fell back asleep. The sound of his soft breaths eventually turned to gruff snores.

When Maggie woke in the morning, it was abrupt. She turned herself over, eyes remained closed as she desperately grasped onto the frayed strings of a peaceful slumber. She poised her bare leg, ready for her thigh to fall over Dean’s thick, muscular ones. But it didn’t. All she felt was the cool crumples of the bed sheet, where he once laid. There were no chainsaw-like snores reverberating around the room. There were no cadenced breaths that fanned against her forehead, tippling down to the very tip of her nose. There were no calloused palms caressing the lengths of her half-naked body. There was no feverish heat radiating from his side of the bed.

Her sleep-filled eyes peeled open instantly and she propped herself up by her elbows. Her heartbeat pounded with rapid thuds and her stomach churned with bile — forcing it up into the crevices of her throat. Static coated her exposed skin, making the hairs stand on end. In a bleary haze, she scanned the room and her gaze fell on the nightstand. Car keys. Phone. Gun. All still laying, haphazardly discarded, exactly where Dean had left them. A long exhale deflated her lungs as she allowed her eyes to wander the motel room further, feeling the trepidation slowly leaving her body; it seeped out through her pores, evaporated off her skin into the musty motel air. His boots lay at the foot of the leather armchair and his jacket lay in a rumpled heap over the arm.

She let out another deep breath and let the relief overcome her. It gave her more clarity as she spied the harsh, white lighting emerging from the cracks in the doorway to the bathroom. The sound of the running shower soon filled the room, alongside the grating echoes of Sam’s snores.

There was something that that just drew Maggie to him. It was an ever-present presence, a sensation, a feeling. The invisible string. The slightest of tugs had her gravitating towards him, and vice versa. And that moment wasn’t any different. She felt the ever-familiar tug in the very pit of her stomach, and she answered to it. There was no use in fighting with it.

Climbing out of bed, she made her way across the motel room. Her feet were bare and padded lightly against the dull carpet until she reached the bathroom door. Carefully, she turned it and slipped inside. Sam remained sleeping not so peacefully, and none the wiser.

It was considerably warmer than outside in the main living space; the room fogged over with tepid steam as condensation laced the mirror. Maggie stepped onto the apricot bathmat and slinked out of her sleepwear. The old, logo-printed t-shirt and her plaid shorts ended up in a crumpled pile on the floor. Her lemon-coloured thong skimmed her bruised thighs as it dropped to the floor, and she stepped out, embracing the nakedness.

Maggie slowly peeled back the curtain and stepped inside the tub.

Dean turned to face her — his eyebrow arched questioningly, and his body draped with glistening water droplets, “can I help you?” His voice was low and scratchy; just how Maggie liked it. He’d caught the soft click of the door as it opened, and the blurry outline of her silhouette as she undressed herself out of the corner of his eye.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” she answered with a reticent tone. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she felt a wave of nervousness; Maggie was in a newfound state of rawness. She was riding the wave of raw, untouched emotions and with that came a raw sense of vulnerability. She spoke her truth, even if hesitant. It was as though a dam had been broken the night prior, and all the pent-up emotions had been released.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he told her, stepping aside, “I thought you could use the sleep.”

Her slender figure slipped past him, under the water stream. Immediately, she was overcome with a warm and comforting feeling. Her dark lashes fluttered closed, and her muscles relaxed, her shoulders dropping backwards. She took a moment to relish the peacefulness of it all; the water pattered against her back at a heavenly pressure, and the warmth of the water felt like a loving embrace.

Dean took the opportunity to admire her naked self. Her breasts were full and pert — her taut nipples a glorious rose colour as the silver bars reflected under the harsh lights. Her curves were spectacular as an hourglass figure carved out her waistline. Her thighs were thick and juicy, and her pussy was freshly shaven. She truly was a sight to behold; full lips parted ever so slightly, dark locks slicked back, and a hint of a flush rouging her cheeks. He would savour this moment for the duration of his lifetime with several mental polaroids. Mentally framed and displayed in his Hall of Fame. He’d waited years for this moment, and it suddenly all became worth it.

Feeling the sear of his lust-filled eyes tearing her naked body apart, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I thought you’d left me,” she admitted quietly, chewing involuntarily on her bottom lip.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured. She needed that.

Dean reached his thumb upwards and, with one gentle motion, pulled her bottom lip from between her teeth. He then, ever so tenderly, placed a finger against her shoulder — guiding her to face away from him. She complied without question in her fragile state. His ring-clad finger meandered slowly down the length of her spine, until he reached her rounded ass. He wanted to give it a rough and playful squeeze — digging the crescent-shaped tips of his nails onto her fair skin and leaving his mark. But now wasn’t the time for rough; now was the time for tenderness. Maggie was delicate in more ways than one, and she needed soft. She needed comfort. She needed to feel his presence.

“You know—” he began, running his fingers through the lengths of her wet hair, “—you should take your own advice every once in a while.” He combed her chestnut wisps until they were sopping wet beneath the warm streams of water.

“What do you mean?” Maggie asked in response. She allowed herself to indulge in the feeling of the tepid water running along her body; it was calming — restorative even. It was as though she was washing away the memories of her emotional outburst from the previous night.

“You should let this thing with Sam go. Not for him, but for you.” Dean squeezed a generous dollop of her fruity-smelling shampoo onto the palm of his hand before massaging it through her hair. The tips of his nails grazed against her scalp in a gentle massage, working the product into a lather. “You told me to do it for me because it’s bad to hold onto so much anger and resentment. That same sentiment goes for you. It’ll eat you alive in the same way it would me, Mags.”

Her long lashes fluttered closed as she melted under his touch; the way in which his fingers worked her scalp scratched at her soul. “I can’t—” she deflated with a saddened exhale, “—I just can’t.” Her head tipped backwards as his masterful fingers found the sweet spot, a soft purring noise slipping from between her parted lips. “He was all I had left, and he still chose to leave me. I’ve spent the last year alone because of him. I needed him. I needed you.”

“Hey—” his palm carefully covered her forehead as he rinsed the shampoo from her roots, “—I’m here now.”

“But nobody was here this past year—” her voice cracked, making way for the heartache that she had held so deep inside of her, “—nobody was here when I needed them the most. Nobody was here when I bumped into my father on a hunt. Nobody was here when I was stabbed by a demon and was laying in the hospital as a Jane Doe for weeks. Nobody was here on the anniversary of Bobby’s death. Nobody was here on my freaking birthday. But Sam should have been. He promised me he would always be here.”

He continued rinsing down to the ends of her sopping locks, ensuring that he had gotten all the suds. “I agree. He should have been.�� Placing the showerhead back in the holder, he picked up the bottle of conditioner. He squeezed out another generous blob and started running it through the ends of her hair. “Just think about it, yeah?”

Maggie stayed silent. She didn’t want to make any promises that she couldn’t keep — and if there was one thing about Maggie, the girl could hold a damn grudge.

Dean didn’t push her; he knew that would only push her in the opposite direction. Maggie did as Maggie pleased — or Maggie did as what made Maggie feel the least shitty about herself. She may know him better than he knows himself, but he knew her just as well. He knew her like the back of his hand; he knew the games that she played and exactly why she played them. Sometimes it was just a case of playing into them games. Sometimes it was anything to put a smile back on her face, and pull her out of the gloomy funk that she’d gotten herself in.

He simply rinsed the condition from her long, luscious strands. He took extra care to ensure that he’d got it all before reaching for her loofah. He lathered it with a sweet-smelling body wash and began scrubbing down her skin. He ghosted over her petite shoulders and arms, caressing each breast with an acute attention before continuing down to her stomach. He could feel the scald of her attentive eyes as she watched his every move. He continued down her body — seizing the opportunity to fondle her pert ass and exploring every inch of her juicy thighs. He reached her lilac-painted toes before trailing the loofah all the way back up. He skimmed the inside of her leg, grazed the mound of her pussy and past her naval, and brushed across her rigid nipple. She was enjoying that.

Once more, he detached the showerhead from the tiled wall and aimed it at her body. The pressure was just right as the stream hit against her shoulders, washing the suds away. He moved down to her ample breasts. A haughty smirk quirked the corners of his lips upwards as a low hum vibrated through her chest — the water hitting perfectly against her pierced buds. He took a half step closer to her as he slowly swirled the jet around her nipple, her back pressing against his sculpted chest. His hand snaked slowly around the concave of her waistline and settled against her hipbone as he continued downwards. He gently rinsed down her thighs.

Then, with one soft but commanding movement, he nudged her bruised thighs apart.

Maggie, consumed by the drips of dopamine coursing through her, obliged immediately. She spread her thighs apart, just enough to give him access to her aching cunt.

“Atta girl,” Dean praised with his usual, gravel-like tone. He aimed the water jet between her legs, letting the stream hit against her.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden contact. A familiar tingle crept along her spine and down into the very tips of her fingers. Her skin tinged with the fire that she had been keeping at bay — locked within the dark, dingy caverns of her soul. Her eyes fluttered shut as heavy breaths slipped from between her chewed-up lips. The jet circled around her clit in lazy ministrations, forcing a strangled whine to claw it’s way out of her throat. She caught it with her hand, pressing her dainty fingers against her lips in a knee-jerk reaction.

Arching her back at an unholy angle, she threw her head back against the robust muscles of her shoulder. Her mahogany tresses splayed across his tattooed chest as her hand reached up to grip onto his collar bone. She needed an anchor as the tension began to build up inside her. Her fingernails sunk into his wet skin, scraping and scratching until she broke the barrier. Heavy, sordid pants spilled from her mouth as the metaphorical rope began to coil around itself in the very pit of her stomach. It knotted once, twice, three times as her hips bucked candidly against the water stream — hitting her most sensitive of nerves.

“Dean,” his name rolled so effortlessly off her tongue with a salacious whine, her voice barley above a whisper. Her breath-like pants grew faster, and the metaphorical rope pulled tighter and tighter. Until her hand found her mouth once again, capturing the sinful moans that carelessly spewed from between her lips. Her curvaceous hips rocked back and forth in frantic motions, her back leveraged against his solid body, as she rode out her orgasmic high.

Dean eventually placed the showerhead back against the wall when she let out an overwhelmed whimper. His calloused palm still gripped her waist, keeping her naked body pressed against his own. His jade eyes peered downwards at the beauty before him, brimming with pride at the mess he had created; her cheeks were stained a fervent rose and her chest rose and fell in a rapid cadence as her lungs desperately pleaded for air.

Maggie nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, her eyes still closed. She felt the warmth of his lips as he placed a soft kiss into her hairline. Oxytocin and dopamine drowned everything surrounding her out. Everything but him. For several moments, the only sound she could hear was the gentle thuds of his heartbeat; the only thing that she could feel was the delicate traces of his fingertips against her hipbone; the only thing to exist was him.

Then, she felt a surge of adrenaline and her natural instincts took over. No thoughts or considerations of the consequences — just pure desire. She pulled herself from his tight embrace and turned on the tips of her toes. Her fix-like eyes gazed upwards into his as her arms wrapped around his neck, her bare silhouette pressing against his own. Her full lips ghosted against his, caressed them with a sweet embrace. It was nothing like either of them had anticipated; it was loving, and tender, and fragile. She continued with her soft touch as his hands clung onto her waistline — securing her in place. Their tongues moved together as one. Exploring. Tasting. Embracing.

After what felt like a hundred lifetimes, Dean retreated slowly. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her jawline. “We better get you back to Mary Magdalene’s, Sister Maggie. We’ve got a witch to find.”

[merakiui]

simply business.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.

Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.

“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”

If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.

Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.

Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.

Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.

With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.

“I aim to surprise.”

“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”

“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”

He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.

“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”

“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.

Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.

“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”

He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”

“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”

He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”

“I see.”

You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”

Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.

“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”

“Very.”

“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”

“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”

“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”

He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.

“Aren’t you diligent?”

The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”

“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”

“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”

“Is that all?”

You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”

“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”

“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.

What was that about?

“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”

“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”

“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”

“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”

“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”

“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”

Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!

As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.

“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”

“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”

“And if it was an individual effort?”

“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”

“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”

That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?

You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”

“Do you plan to be?”

“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”

“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”

Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”

“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”

Just what kind of test is that?

“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”

“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”

“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”

“A fine attitude to have.”

“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”

No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…

“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.

That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?

“If I may ask one final question…”

“Sure thing!”

Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”

More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.

Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.

“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”

“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”

You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”

“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”

Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”

Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.

“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”

“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”

“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”

Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.

And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.

Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”

“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”

“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”

Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.

Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.

Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.

“Will I truly get the job?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.

“On how far you’re willing to go.”

“C-Can he leave?”

Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”

“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.

You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”

“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”

Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.

“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.

It’s not worth it. I should leave.

You should, but can you?

“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”

Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.

I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.

Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.

Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.

From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.

“Will that be all?”

“Keep going.”

“Haven’t I done enough?”

“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”

You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.

“I’ve seen enough.”

“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.

You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”

“For now.”

At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.

“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”

As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.

“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.

It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.

I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.

When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.

“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”

The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”

“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”

You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”

[veronika-tserber]

3rd House Ruler Through the Houses

The 3rd House in the Birth Chart Tells Us About:

How important communication is to us

How we express ourselves through spoken/written word

Our learning style and high-school education

Our relationship with siblings & the immediate environment

Our driving skills, as well as why we take short trips

We analyze the sign, the ruling planet of the sign, the degree, and any planets in the house (and their aspects). For this post, I am only asking you to look at the sign on the cusp and where its ruling planet is placed. This area of life is where your communicative abilities can shine the most.

E.g., if you have an Aries 3rd house, look at the house where Mars (also check out the modern ruler, Pluto) is placed, and read the explanation below.)

Some signs have TWO rulers, so read about both:

♈ Aries: Mars & Pluto

♏ Scorpio: Pluto & Mars

♐ Sagittarius: Jupiter & Neptune

♒ Aquarius: Uranus & Saturn

♓ Pisces: Neptune & Jupiter

3H Ruler in the 1H Your communication is closely tied to your self-image and self-expression. Others notice your manner of speech right away, and this could mean different things depending on the ruling planet. You express yourself best when you are able to freely speak up, and share your humor and opinions. You might learn best when you are physically involved in your learning. You can have a great sense of orientation and driving skills. Close relationships with siblings. Great communication is vital to you and your self-confidence. You could be a great writer/journalist/comedian or be involved in business and marketing. Short trips by yourself or for personal reasons.

3H Ruler in the 2H You probably like to think and talk about practical topics such as money, work, health, etc. You could also be skilled at crafting things and working with your hands. Similarly to the 1H people, you can have a "hands-on" approach to learning, and probably like to put any theory to the test. "Does it ACTUALLY work?" You might like to invest money into technology, education, cars/vehicles, and books. You could be interested in financial education, economics, real estate, or the arts. The financial state of your family affected your education and early environment. Your siblings ask you for financial support. Short trips for practical reasons.

3H Ruler in the 3H Communication and mental health are extremely important to you in this lifetime. Your immediate environment, education, and relationship with siblings play an important role in your life. You can be great at expressing yourself in verbal or written form and have the ability to sell goods, advertise, and be driven to learn things. You could be highly involved in your day-to-day life and love to find new and better ways to deal with everyday reality. You can be naturally skilled at solving everyday problems and fixing things. You could be quite fond of social media or the news - you like to stay in touch with everything that's going on in the world right now. Short trips with your siblings or acquaintances/schoolmates.

3H Ruler in the 4H You communicate best when you feel emotionally safe. You might be shy around strangers or people you don't "vibe" with. You could be interested in psychology and the themes of deconditioning, trauma, inner child healing, and family. You could've been homeschooled or you like the idea of homeschooling your children one day. A sibling of yours might've played the role of a mother/nurturer to you or vice-versa. You think deeply and love to see people open up to you and reveal their emotions and vulnerabilities. You could be interested in real estate, creative writing, and working from home. Your upbringing affects your communication and thinking patterns. You learn best in a safe environment that feels cozy and protective. You also might be a visual learner with strong emotional memory. You might be prone to thinking about the past a lot. You can be a skilled cook or good at fixing things around the house when they break. Short trips with the whole family.

3H Ruler in the 5H Your style of communication might be emotionally expressive, theatrical, and lively. You might love to draw people's attention by voicing your opinions or using your communicative abilities to entertain. You could be naturally skilled in the arts or want to go through formal art education. You might also have siblings that are artists. You love to talk about fun stuff, discuss art, movies, and flirt. You learn best when you are having fun! Communication with your own children is important to you, as well. You could have a "gambler" mindset or might like to take risks. You might like to buy or sell beauty/luxury items. Short trips for the purpose of having fun and enjoyment.

3H Ruler in the 6H This is double Mercury energy, so the importance of communication and service is amplified in your life. You can use your intellect and communicative abilities in your work or as a way to serve others in a practical way. In your education, you are punctual, responsible, and efficient. You love to learn! Especially about things that improve your day-to-day reality such as how to fix things around the house, how to improve your health, be better at your job, etc. You are probably a cautious driver, as well, and you can take short trips for work or for the sake of fulfilling other responsibilities. You could be interested in medical education/naturopathy but it really depends on the planet.

3H Ruler in the 7H Communication is crucial for you in your close personal relationships. If the planetary ruler isn't afflicted, you likely express yourself freely in front of others, and can easily forge new connections and partnerships. You can be a huge flirt! If the ruler is afflicted, you can struggle with self-expression. Nonetheless, people pay a lot of attention to how you think and communicate. You could potentially meet your future marriage partner during a short trip or thanks to your siblings/neighbors. You could also meet them while you are out riding your bicycle around the neighborhood, or buying coffee from your local coffee shop. Potential "high school sweethearts" placement, as well. You could have an education or a strong interest in relationship dynamics, and depending on the planet, that could be the placement of a counselor or a lawyer. Short trips with your partners, people close to your heart, or for business.

3H Ruler in the 8H In your communication, you like to go DEEP. You aren't satisfied with superficial information and you likely avoid social media, gossip, and small talk. You can keep a secret. You could potentially be challenged in your communication, and appear asocial or closed-off. It all depends on the ruling planet and its aspects. Nonetheless, you have an interest in the occult, psychology, sex, death, and other "taboo" topics. You could also come off as critical and sharp with your words. You could study and be interested in financial topics, and investments, or run advertising for a funeral agency. (I'm only halfway joking lol, and this is my placement, too 🤣) If the ruling planet is afflicted, you can be prone to accidents with vehicles or in your close environment. There could be issues in early education or perhaps strong bonds with some of the people you went to high school with. Possibly love-hate relationships with siblings, too. You like to take short trips with your intimate partners or by yourself.

3H Ruler in the 9H Your long-term goals and philosophy in life can be formed through your early education and experience of the early close environment. In your communication, you could be quite philosophical and might love to think about existential questions and the "big perspective" in life. You communicate and express yourself best in an academic environment of like-minded people/colleagues or with your professors. Alternatively, you could have issues there, depending on the ruling planet. You could be interested in foreign cultures, be multi-lingual, or skilled in literature or history. You could be the local tour guide for foreigners. You could pursue higher education in journalism, science, and writing, or decide to become a teacher, yourself. A lot of it depends on the ruling planet. Short trips for educational purposes and for the sake of adventure.

3H Ruler in the 10H Your communication abilities play a role in your career. Your education is the foundation of your profession and social status. Learning more languages, improving your practical skillset, communication, staying informed, and using social media constructively can help you advance career-wise. You could work in the field of trading, marketing, writing, teaching, and other Mercurial fields. It largely depends on the ruling planet. You could benefit (or suffer) from your ability to relate to authority figures and those "above you" on the social ladder. You probably like to feel in charge of your learning and education, but also love structure and measuring your achievements. You could have been ambitious and competitive at school. Taking short business trips.

3H Ruler in the 11H You communicate with pleasure among friends and like-minded individuals. This includes internet friends and communities. You love sharing your thoughts, visions, and interests with others, and engaging in inspiring conversations. You probably enjoy discussing social issues and topics and talking about your dreams and aspirations. You could also be prone to changing your interests a lot, and you could join many groups and communities over the years - especially in high school. You love to learn more about progressive ideas, technology, astrology, astronomy, science, etc. You might have a friendly relationship with your siblings. Regarding your learning style, you could be more fond of learning through the internet or working in a collaborative environment than sitting at a desk and having to "memorize" stuff. You could take short trips with friends.

3H Ruler in the 12H You could be really private with your thoughts. You could speak in a compassionate and gentle way that draws people in. Alternatively, you could be closed off and avoid communication or have some sort of a speech impediment/disability. You could be interested in learning more about spirituality, healing, art, mental health, etc. You could find that you tend to daydream a lot and your imagination is really vivid. It could be the placement for a painter, dancer, or creative writer, but it depends on other factors. Your education can involve the things above, plus psychology, energy healing, or the more traditional medical field. You could struggle in a traditional school environment. Your learning style is highly intuitive and may involve storytelling, metaphors, and visualization. You could definitely study better in solitude. Strong emotional memory. Great listener. You can take short trips to be by yourself and jam along to your favorite music.

The Ask Box is open for specific questions, folks! 😊

- Foxbörn

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ 1

ᴄʜᴀʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ

ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʏ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ?

[shyanddreamy]

A helping hand

Niragi Suguru x Reader

Summary: Niragi wasn´t at his best moment at high school. Life was unfair with him. But you noticed him. He caught your eye. What happened between you and Niragi was much more than he could ever have imagined in his wildest dreams.

Warnings: soft Niragi, mentions of bullying, violence, smut, fluff and angst (all-in-one because why not), loss of virginity, Niragi being so fucking adorable.

Author´s note: Soooo it´s my first time posting here but I needed to write Niragi´s first time and I know you needed to read it too. English is not my first language so I apologize for any possible mistakes. I really hope you like it. Love u all <3

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Day after day, he was always alone; always in the same chair doing the same things. Exactly two hours after his arrival, he packed up his books and left for fifteen minutes before coming back with a coffee. He seemed to be pretty strict with his routine. Maybe you were a bit gossip because you had spent the last few days observing him until you learnt his schedule too. But what could you do? Studying was too boring; you needed a distraction. And he looked like an interesting one.

So that day, when he left the public library, you decided to follow him. You thought he might be going to a coffee shop, but he just was at the vending machine in the hallway.

"Hello there", you said. The boy turned back, but he looked side to side before paying attention directly to you.

"Are you talking to me?", he asked, puzzled.

"There´s no one else here except you", you answered. "Why do you carry your backpack with you just to take a break in the hallway?"

"I don´t want anyone to… steal my books"

"Cute. Are you a high-school student?", you smiled before asking, but he seemed embarrassed and confused. Anyway, he nodded. "And why don´t you study in your own school?"

"I prefer to be here. Is there any problem?"

"No, of course not. I was just curious", you said. "Do you mind if a sit next to you? I can´t concentrate by my own and you are always studying harder. Maybe I can learn something from you"

"It´s fine, I suppose"

He tried to smile, but it was more like an awkward grimace.

"I´m Y/N, by the way"

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I´m Niragi"

"It´s my pleasure, Niragi"

Since that day, you changed your favourite desk in the public library to be in the same as Niragi. Most of the time you were just sitting there in completely silence, concentrated in your own notes. He was shy and everyday took him like half hour to get used to your presence. Either social skills were not his thing, or he was not used to interacting with girls.

In the coffee breaks were when you took advantage to know more about him. He was a high school senior and wanted to get good marks so he could go to the university the following year. This was your first year at the university, so you told him all about how your experience was. People, teachers, classes, environment… it was pretty different in comparison with high school, and he seemed hopeful at your description.

Ultimately, studying with Niragi was nice. You found yourself thinking that you even felt like going to the library every afternoon, far from the laziness you felt before. But everything changed the day you saw a bruised on his cheekbone. You noticed he didn´t want to look at you at all since you were sitting in front of him and you assumed that was the reason.

After nearly fifteen minutes of hesitation about what you should do, you grabbed him by the chin and forced his face upwards. He also had traces of dried blood next to his nose.

"What happened to you?"

"It´s nothing", he answered trying to hide behind his own hair.

"It doesn´t look like nothing"

He slapped your hand away from his chin and lowered his face again. It was strange because he has never been so rude before. And before you could say anything, he grabbed his backpack and his books and ran away. You went after him without hesitation after quickly gathering your things too.

"Hey, Niragi!", you called out in the hallway getting him to stop. He had no way of escape. "I didn´t want to bother you"

"I´m sorry. It´s my fault", he apologized, turning slowly towards you with his gaze fixed on his feet and his hands clenched into fists.

"No, it´s not", you answered a bit concerned. Anyway, you tried to sound calm. "Has anyone done this to you? Maybe a classmate?"

"No. It´s nothing", he insisted, but you noticed his weeping eyes. You were pretty sure that you spot on. So carefully, you took his hand between yours to get his attention.

"I know that we have fifteen minutes to get a coffee, but I think that, only for today, we should take a longer break"

"I-I´m not sure"

You smiled cheerfully.

"Trust me"

Niragi followed you tamely, but after ten minutes walking down the street, he started to get nervous. Even more when you entered in an apartment building.

"Where are we going?", he asked to you, but you waited to answer until you were in front of your door.

"To my house", you said while you opened it. "It´s not too much, but I can´t afford any more"

"Do you live on your own?"

"Getting a job while you are at college is not much fun, but it´s better than live with my father, that´s for sure", you explained briefly. "C´mon in. I don´t bite"

However, Niragi was suspicious. While you entered in the kitchen, he sat down in the sofa frowned. It was pretty obvious how uncomfortable he was.

"Why did you bring me here?", he asked you suspicious. "I-I shouldn’t be here. Maybe I´d better leave"

When you returned to the living room, you did so with a packet of frozen vegetables in your hand and interrupted his words.

"I don´t have ice, but it will work too", you sat down next to him and pointed to his bruised. "It seems recent, so cold will help. May I?"

Niragi opened his eyes in surprise, realising that you were trying to lend him a hand. He didn´t seem to be used to anyone helping him. And in a way, it was enough to calm him down a bit.

"Don´t worry. I can do it myself"

"It´s ok. I want to do it for you"

He smiled slightly and finally nodded. You remained silence for a few minutes to make him feel comfy while you took care of his bruise carefully. However, you needed to know what really had happened to him.

"So… do you have any problems at high school?", you asked him prudently, but Niragi was still reluctant to speak. "Stay quiet only helps bullies. It´s not beneficial to you"

"I-It´s nothing new. And I can´t do anything. I tried once, but it only got worse", Niragi mumbled. "I am only a few months away from graduation, I can bear it until then"

In that kind of situations, people used to say that you should talk with a teacher or an adult, but it is easier said than done. And as much as you would like to do something about it, you couldn’t force him to do something he didn´t want to.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"I don´t want to be a nuisance, although, well, I am being one already", he muttered. As nervous as he still was, he dared to look you in the eyes. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"Because you are a nice guy, Niragi", you pointed out, setting aside the packet of frozen vegetables.

"We hardly know each other"

"Yeah, I actually know so little about you because you barely talk about yourself, and yet, I´m sure you deserve much better than this"

Your words were enough to make him blush. Damn, he was adorable. You liked his shyness and how easily he got nervous with little things. But he also was clever and pretty interesting if you give him the opportunity to get comfortable enough to talk openly. High school students weren´t really your type, but Niragi could be the exception.

When you put your hand up to his face, caressing his cheek softly, he seemed confused.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"W-What?", Niragi stammered as he shrugged his shoulders. "W-why do you want to know that?"

"Because I want to kiss you. If you want it too, of course."

He looked even more flustered than usual but, at least, he didn´t turn away from your touch.

"You don´t have to do that out of pity"

"It´s not like that", you assured him. "I do want to kiss you"

"But why would you do that?"

"Because I see you, Niragi. I really see you. And I like all what I see"

"I don´t… understand"

"Maybe one day you will"

You approached a bit more until there were only a few inches between your lips. And still caressing his cheek and his hair, you finally kissed him very softly. His mouth didn’t answer at first, but when you started moving your own lips, he did his best to follow your pace. It was obvious it was his first kiss because of his clumsiness, but you were glad to be his teacher. The only thing you wanted was to give him an excellent first kiss. And when you thought it was enough for the first time, you broke the kiss, adding some distance between both. Niragi kept his eyes closed for a few more seconds before opening them again. You couldn´t help but smile as you saw Niragi blinking repeatedly, still muddled.

"Was it good?"

"Yeah, I guess. No, I mean, of course", he responded helter-skelter, making you laugh.

"See? You are incredibly sweet"

This time, Niragi laughed too. And your heart beat faster when you saw a special shine in his eyes. At that very moment, you realized how much you loved seeing that boy happy. He was so beautiful. And you wanted to protect his kind soul.

"Can we do it again? I know I can do better"

"I will gladly repeat. As many times as you want"

***

By the time you closed the door of your apartment, Niragi had already left his backpack on the floor and was waiting for you to come closer to him.

"Seems like somebody is a bit eager"

"I´m sorry", he said, losing some of the self-confidence he displayed moments before. "I just…"

"I was just teasing you, Niragi"

You walked towards him and stood on tiptoe to get to his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He simply placed his hands gently on your waist and followed you to the couch. Niragi plopped down on the sofa and you straddle him. Since your first kiss, you decided to pick up Niragi everyday at the entrance of the library and walked together to your flat instead of staying there. You studied too but also had free time for you. You had started thinking that Niragi was trying to become a total expert in the whole kissing thing.

"Has been a good day at school?"

"Yeah, cool. Better now I´m here"

"I´m talking seriously, Niragi", you insisted, placing your hands on his chest to be able to look at him. "I want to be sure that you are alright"

"I know. And I appreciate it. But everything´s fine, Y/N"

"Well, I´m gonna try to believe you"

You continued kissing each other for a few. Your tongues were tangled and your saliva mixed. Niragi was a quick learner. When you bit his lower lip, he dug his fingers into your hips unconsciously.

"Do you want… more?"

"What do you mean?", he asked you in return, slightly frowned.

"I´m pretty sure you know what I mean. I can feel the bulge in your pants"

His face suddenly flushed and his hands left your body. Niragi even tried to push you into the sofa, embarrassed, but you reminded on top of him.

"I-I´m sorry. I-I didn´t want to make you feel uncomfortable"

"There´s nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, I would be offended if your body didn´t react in this way", you joked, but Niragi was still amazed. "And if you want it, I´m ready to move to the next level"

"I don´t know if I´m… I mean, I don´t know what to do"

"I know you are unexperienced, Niragi, but it´s not a problem for me. I can guide you", you assured to him. "However, you have to be sure that you really want to do it"

"I want to do it, I guess"

"You guess?", you repeated after him. Niragi was so insecure that he could start trembling at any time, so you decided to lend him a helping hand. "We can go ahead and, if you regret it or feel uncomfortable, we can stop whenever you want"

Niragi hesitated for a few seconds before nodding almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah, good. I like how it sounds", he said in a tone of voice so low that it was difficult to hear.

You started kissing him again slowly to restore his confidence, but this time, it didn´t take you long until you moved your lips to his neck. You felt honoured to hear his low moans as you kissed that sensitive part of his body and guided his hands to your hips again. 

"Can I unbutton your shirt?", you asked him gently.

"Yes, it´s fine"

You did it one by one, and when it was done, you left his neck to take care of his bared chest. It was pretty sad to discover some bruises there too. Niragi tensed up as he noticed your gaze on them.

"There are not recent", he promised you in a hurry. Instead of answering, you took off your own shirt and showed him the scar near your shoulder.

"This is from the last day I saw my father", you explained to his visibly puzzled grimace. "I used to have some bruises too, but they will disappear and, eventually, you will heal. People who hurt you can´t control your life. You have so many wonderful things to live, Niragi. And those assholes can´t destroy you"

Words were not coming out of his mouth. He was completely focused on your scar. And without doubting, he came up to kiss it gently. You gasped and entangled your fingers in his hair, letting him freedom to continue kissing your skin and your neck. He was trying to copy what you have done on him before. God, you wanted to go step by step, but you also needed him so bad.

"Should we go to my bedroom?"

"Yeah, I would like that"

In the living room, Niragi was more secure about it than he was when he saw the bed in front of him. He even gulped nervously, so you take his hand gently and guided him to sit on one side of the bed. You stayed upright caressing his hair.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes"

"Do you want me to stop? We don’t have to rush things"

"No. I´m sure. I want to do this", he nodded. "I want to do it with you, Y/N"

"Okay then"

You took off his shirt and caressed his chest, arms and back. The tingling of your fingertips gave him goosebumps. All these sensations were completely new to him.

Then, you got on your knees and put your hands on his trousers. Before getting rid of them, you gave him a glance waiting to his consent. And Niragi nodded again. Once done, you got back on your feet and guided his fingers to your own pants, encouraging him to do something besides staring at you. And with just your underwear, he lay back as you climbed in top of him.

"Don’t look at me like I scare you"

"You don´t", he assured you. "I´m just nervous. I don’t want to disappoint you"

"Get that idea out of your head because there is no way you can disappoint me. If I see you are enjoying it, I´m going to do it too"

You both kissed for a while as your hands explored each other’s body. Niragi was so shy at first but ended grabbing your breast firmly. His breathing got heavier in the moment you stroked his crotch. You got rid of your underwear and continued moving your hand up and down his length a few times. He already was completely hard and pre-cum was shining in his tip.

"How could you keep this secret away from me?"

"What are you talking about?", he asked to you but got puzzled by your naughty smile.

"I´m talking about what you hid under your pants. You are huge"

And immediately, Niragi was blush again. A pride and subtle smile appeared on his face even so. Maybe it was the first time you saw him being proud of something about himself. After the sex, you might teach him what else he should be proud of besides his dick.

"You mean it?"

"Yeah, I´m just telling you the truth", you said. And when you rubbed his tip against your wetness, Niragi moaned. It was time. "Are you ready? For sure?"

"Yes, I am"

"Can you see right without your glasses?"

"Yes, for sure. I forgot about them", he said before taking them off and leaving them on the night table.

"And do you want to switch positions or something?"

"I´m good here", he answered. "And you look so pretty up there"

You smiled tenderly.

"You are the sweetest boy I ever met, Niragi"

You kissed him one more time before burring yourself in his length inch by inch. Niragi opened his mouth widely as he chocked a moan in his throat. Feeling himself completely inside of you was much more than what he could afford; the sensation was more amazing than he could have ever imagined. That´s why you gave him a few seconds to recover.

"Are you alright?"

"I have never been better"

"I´m glad to hear that"

You started moving your hips up and down slowly. His sonorous moans were music to your ears. And as you speeded up the pace, you ended up moaning too. You had wanted this since your first kiss and it was so pleasant it finally happened. His hands clung to your thighs at the same time you descended to taste his lips again. Niragi could barely kiss you back, but he did his best. Nevertheless, after a few minutes, you felt his muscles tightening. You knew what that meant.

"I-I think… I am…", he scarcely could talk.

"I know. And it´s okay. I really want to see you cumming, babe"

You caressed his hair and his chest as you quickened your pace as much as you could. Niragi looked directly into your eyes, the pleasure burning in his gaze and his moans filling the room. God, he was even cuter when he was such a mess.

"I love you, Y/N", he confessed in a gasp. "Damn, I…"

A louder moan prevented him from continuing to speak. As he cum, you stopped the movement of your hips gradually. And shortly afterwards, you moved from the top of Niragi to lay back in the bed next to him. You still caressed his chest with your fingertips, smiling as you observe his desperate attempts to catch his breath.

"Was it good?"

"Was even better. Better than anything", he answered, slowly turning his face to you with an exhausted smile. However, it didn't take long for him to change it to a worried grimace. "I have finished too fast, right?"

"It´s your first time. It´s normal"

"I´m sorry"

"Don’t apologize, dumbass", you refuted. "It has been great. I promise. And practice makes perfect"

You hugged him by the waist and left a warm kiss in his shoulder.

"So… that means we can repeat it some time?", he asked, paused.

"I would like to. But you have had enough for today", you concluded before sitting up in the bed.  Instantly you opened your arms and nodded your head at him, telling him without words to come closer to you. "Sex is amazing but cuddling after sex is stunning too"

Although a bit reluctant, Niragi decided to accept your offer and put his head over your bared chest. His arms slowly moved until he was hugged to your body and, a pair of minutes later, Niragi took a big breath of air and let it out slowly. You continued caressing his hair and his back, hoping he didn´t fall asleep.

"You were right. It feels good too", he mumbled.

"I know, baby"

His hands clutched at your body with need, as if he never wanted to let you go again.

"You are the best thing in my life, Y/N. No one has ever cared about me as much as you do"

"Is that why you said that you loved me before?"

Niragi gulped on account of your words. Probably he was trying to make like if that never happened, but it did.

"I´m sorry"

"Stop apologizing"

"But I have to. It has been out of place. I was feeling so many things a-and I said it out loud, but I´m sorry"

"I´m not annoyed", you assured. "But I need you to understand that I don´t feel the same. At least not yet. Right now, I love you as a friend; falling in love takes time"

"I get it", he said, but you noticed a slightly disillusionment in is his voice.

"However… it´s also true that you are the only person who has captured my interest in a long time. So, it´s possible that it means something"

Niragi didn´t believe that anyone could ever notice him. He thought that everyone despised him; that he deserved all the hate he got; that he was only a piece of trash. And he believed that all was his fault for being born twisted. But you had proved him wrong; you had shown him the love he never had. And Niragi could never wish for more.

"Like you said before… We don´t have to rush things", he murmured tentatively.

"Yeah, I agree"

***

Your day was being a complete disaster. You had a mentoring early at the morning, but it took longer than you expected and you were late for work. As a result, you had left later too and, by the time you arrived to the entrance of the public library, Niragi should have been waiting for you for more than half an hour. As you noticed that he wasn´t waiting for you sitting in the stairs, a group of teenagers a few meters away caught your eye.

"So, you were hiding from us, huh?", one of them laughed.

"I told you he was here, guys", another said.

"You don´t want to spend some quality time with us after classes? We always have so much fun, don´t you think, Niragi?"

It took you a few seconds to realize that one of them had Niragi by the shoulders. He was clearly uncomfortable and these five boys would be his classmates; his bullies. They turned down the street into an alleyway and you didn´t hesitate before following them. They were too busy pushing a terrified Niragi against the wall to notice you until you raised your voice.

"Here you are, guys! It´s so nice to finally have the opportunity to meet you"

Five pairs of eyes were on you at once. They looked confused, but Niragi quickly recognised you.

"Y/N, it´s fine. You should go", he made an effort to keep his voice from trembling.

Or he didn´t want you to see what they were going to do to him, or he was afraid that they might do something to you as well.

"Do you know who she is? It´s your girlfriend or something?", one of them asked him, moody. The only thing that stood out about him was his bright yellow t-shirt.

"Huh? How is this freak going to be dating such a beautiful girl?", another answered, walking towards you with a cocky smile on his face. "Is there any problem, sweetie? I can help you with whatever you need"

"So nice of you to ask", you smiled too. "The truth is that my day has been awful, but I´m so lucky that you are here to make it better"

Before he could say anything, you punched him straight in the nose, making him cry out in pain as the blood began to flow. Suddenly, you kneed him in the crotch and grabbed him by the hair before he could even react.

"I assume that you, dickhead, are the leader of this deplorable gang", you said near his face. "And I am the person you should have never crossed paths with"

"You crazy bitch. I´m gonna…"

You pulled his hair harder, forcing him to shut up.

"What are you gonna do, huh?", you asked, but didn´t obtain any answer. Then you took something out of your pocket and pressed it again that boy´s crotch. His eyes widened, frightened. "Yeah, you are right, it´s a knife. So you should listen to me carefully. If I ever see Niragi again with another bruise, I´m gonna cut your disgusting little dick before you could use it at least once in your entire pathetic life"

You saw the fear reflected in his face. He was terrified. You even thought that he could pee his pants any moment.

"Have you understood what I said?"

"Yes"

"Louder! Have you understood?!"

"Yes! Yes! I promise! I won´t do it again!"

You let him go with a shove moments later. And when you put your sight in the other four kids, they seemed to be petrified.

"The threat goes to all of you", you warned them. "Does anyone have anything else to say?"

Three of them bowed their heads submissively, but the one in the yellow shirt was reluctant yet.

"There are four of us and he is just a girl. We can handle her", he told to his friends, seeking their support.

"Planning to assault a girl in group. So brave, sweetie", you answered, smiling tenderly. "Anyways, I´m going to be nice and warn you that, before entering in this alleyway, I have called the police. I told them that five guys were following me down the street and I was so freaking scared. I suppose that, if they catch you, they won´t be as kind as I am being with you"

"You have kicked one of us! And threatened us!", he shouted. "I am the one who is going to report you to the police"

"It´s your word against mine; an innocent pretty little lady vs five good-for-nothing jerks. Are you sure that they are going to believe you?"

"I can´t go to jail. I´m too young", one of them complained.

"Me too. We should run"

"Maybe we can hide before police came here"

"Finally one of you says something coherent", you commented.

Moments later, without even bothering to say goodbye, they started running out of the alleyway, helping his injured leader to run as fast as them.

"Nice to meet you, guys! You were right, it has been a lot of fun with you all!", you shouted, hoping they could still hear you.

Only when you saw them turning the street, you paid attention to the person who had been in the background all this time. You were alone with Niragi, who was looking at you like if he didn´t know you. He seemed unable to process what had just happened.

"Have I gone too far with them?"

"What the… What have you done?", he finally asked, bewildered.

"I´m sorry. Maybe I should have asked you before doing anything by my own"

"You have threatened them with cutting his…", Niragi couldn't even finish the sentence. "Why do you have a knife?"

"It´s not a knife. It´s a comb. A pocket´s comb", you said, opening and showing it to Niragi. "But that moron was too scared to look at it. And I have sound pretty convincing"

And just like that, after a few seconds of absolute silence, Niragi did something you didn´t expected: he laughed. He laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall. You let him let it all out until, just a few minutes later, he managed to calm himself down.  You've never seen him laughing like this before. And the truth is, it was a bit strange.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Are you kidding me? It has been incredible! I´m feeling more than well", he assured you. "But, what about the police?"

"It was a lie too," you answered. "I knew they would be such cowards"

You went to your house like you supposed to do before the incident happened. Sitting on the sofa with a soda everything seemed better, but Niragi still had too many questions in his mind. He was amazed.

"They were terrified", he smiled, but his gaze soon fell upon you. "I didn´t knew you could be so… I don´t know. I couldn´t imagine you like that"

"Now you know. I guess that´s what happens when life isn´t fair with you. You learn some tricks", you mumbled. "If nobody is there for you, you must become your own saviour. And when you have so much hate inside, your soul gets dark and rotten. That’s why I wanted to protect you before yours was too broken"

"But I don´t want you to protect me, Y/N. I want to be like you. I don´t want anyone to be able to hurt me again"

Niragi was freaking out; seemed astounded. You have never seen him like that, so full of life. You could see it in his eyes; maybe you were too late to save his kind soul. Maybe it wasn´t so kind since the beginning.

"You have enjoyed it. You didn´t just want them to stop; you wanted to fight back, to make them suffer"

Niragi bowed his head as if he were ashamed of his own thoughts. Or maybe he wasn´t ashamed of his mind at all, he only didn´t want anyone to discover all the dark things that were on it.

"There's no reason for you to lie to me. I had tried to prevent you from seeing that part of me because I didn´t want to lose you. I know I´m not a good person, Niragi, but I have no regrets about the way I am", you confessed. "And back there, in the alleyway, when your classmates left and you were looking at me, I have noticed the bulge in your pants. The situation has turned you on"

Niragi flushed and his knuckles turned white from clenching his fists in his lap.

"I can´t say out loud what´s on my mind. I´m twisted. A disgusting freak"

"Society may reject people like us. People who are so fucked up inside that only want to see the world burn. But you can be genuine with me. No matter what you say or what you do, I will never run away from you. Your dark side doesn´t scare me, Suguru"

Niragi´s eyes were wet. He always had thought that he will always be alone, but he saw a part of himself reflected on you. For the first time in his lifetime, he had been lucky to have your paths cross. And without hesitation, Niragi hugged you vehemently and you hugged him back trying to comfort him.

"Don´t ever leave me, Y/N. Please, don´t go"

"I won´t. I promise"

You felt his tears in your cheek and you held him tighter, but you allowed him to let it all out by crying. Sometimes people just needed to have someone by their side; someone to love them no matter what, despite their shortcomings. And from now on, you were going to be there for Niragi just as he was going to be there for you. Neither of you would ever be alone again.

[sleepysnk]

a/n: after much time relaxing, i am back! thank you guys for waiting and being patient while on my break. i appreciate it a lot :). i hope you all enjoy this! <3 mitsuya was highly requested and i wanted to give him a shot!

pairings: mitsuya takashi x fem!reader

warnings: best friend!mitsuya, some angst, mentions of previous talking stages, brief mention of ran haitani x reader, mentions of food, mentions of jealousy, confessions, nsfw, smut, car sex, use of pet names (baby, princess, my girl, good girl), rough(ish) sex turning vanilla, brief spanking, praising, dirty talk, creampie, some fluff.

synopsis: you and mitsuya had been best friends since high school. you did it all together and you both had become inseparable. mitsuya’s feelings soon turned romantic quicker than he expected, but he would only watch from afar as your “best friend.” one day, when your failed talking stage goes south, he decides he’s had enough of hiding those feelings and shows you himself how much he cares about you.

just friends? ft. mitsuya takashi

Meeting Mitsuya Takashi and having him as your best friend did so many wonderful things in your life.

The two of you had been friends since you were both freshmen in high school. Your friendship had begun when you entered your sewing class which was your second to last period of the day. Like many freshmen who enter high school, you were very jittery and nervous. You had already had a stressful day adjusting to the changes high school had brought to you, and all you desired was to go home and lay in bed. This was going to be your life for the next four years and those shifts in the environment really messed with you. You had already messed up by entering the wrong classroom and were almost late to your third period. 

When you entered the small classroom, your eyes wandered for an empty seat. Some of them had been claimed by others, but there was a free one in the back with a lavender-haired male sitting beside it. 

You hardly expected a guy to be in a sewing class. Not that you had a problem with him being there or anything, but not many guys were interested in fashion classes. However, despite that, you stepped to the back of the classroom and plopped down beside the boy. He didn’t bat much of an eye at you, and he seemed to be lost in thought. He looked to be around your age too, but nonetheless he kept to himself. You didn’t blame him either. It was quite difficult for you to make conversation with other people, especially other freshmen. 

Once the bell had rang, your teacher had introduced herself and began going over the course and welcoming anyone who was new to sewing. It was the same old introduction that was quite repetitive, so you sort of tuned her out while she talked about how she understood how stressful it might be and crap like that. You knew that facade would drop once the middle of the semester had begun. However, you quickly paid attention when you heard her spit out a few words that made any new freshmen nervous. 

“This is a bit of a social class! So, I’d like you to introduce yourself to the person beside you!”

Your heart rate had spiked at that. You had spent the entirety of your day introducing yourself to random classmates, or playing those stupid “get to know me” games. It had become quite exhausting doing such things. You would hardly speak with those people over your next four years, so you didn’t see why it was so necessary to do such a thing. Though, wanting to avoid being in trouble, you decided to turn towards the boy sitting next to you. Much to your surprise, he was already facing you with a friendly grin on his face. It relieved your anxiety seeing him do such an action. Sometimes, people didn’t give two shits about doing those chats with their classmates and just gave off the most awkward vibes ever, making it so much harder to even converse with them. 

“I’m Mitsuya Takashi, you?”

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

“What made you pick this class?”

“It looked.. interesting? I also wanted to learn to sew.. what about you?” 

“I want to become a fashion designer.”

Hearing those words made you all the more interested in becoming friends with Mitsuya Takashi. Eventually, a great friendship did form between you both. You two had become partners in sewing class and did projects with one another whenever it came up. You both had discovered you had the same lunch hour, so you often sat with him and talked about whatever had come up. The two of you had become quite the pair and learned so many things about one another. He had two baby sisters he took care of after school and he had a dream of becoming a fashion designer. It was so nice listening to him talk about different clothing items he wanted to create once he had the opportunity. Mitsuya was truly a great friend to have. 

Days turned to weeks, to months, to four years later. 

Your friendship had lasted all throughout high school. There were some bumps in the road, but you and Mitsuya had gone through hell and back with one another. He had been there for every little thing that had happened. Whether it was drama with friends, receiving your driver's license, gossip about the different guys in your classes, or even stuff about your parents, he was there for you whenever you needed him. You considered him your best friend, and he thought the same of you. The two of you were a great duo and you were blessed to have such an amazing friend like him. He never made you feel annoying or uncomfortable. It was something many people in the past had made you feel, and you were thankful he wasn’t one of them.

Both of you decided to attend the same university together too. Despite your majors being the complete opposite, you both continued going to school together. Some people called you crazy for doing such a thing, but you two loved the idea of having at least one knowledgeable person on campus. Mitsuya also had a great scholarship there as well, so it benefited him heavily. 

Little did you know, Mitsuya had feelings that weren’t just platonic.

Mitsuya knew it was somewhat wrong to develop feelings for you. You two were best friends. He knew that you would never see him in such a manner, but he just couldn’t help himself. He had developed feelings back when you both were freshmen. You were one of the first girls to ever speak to him in such a kind hearted nature. You were so pure and sweet, and your intentions were never malicious with him. He loved talking with you, and you had become such an important person in his life. He didn’t want to admit that he liked you. He ran the risk of potentially ruining your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way about him, so he kept his mouth shut about anything romantic. There were times he’d try and hint at his feelings, but it always went over your head and he feared your rejection of him.

He would always sit back from afar and watch you. He honestly wished he could come clean, because the secret was practically tearing him apart. He had so many thoughts about you it almost hurt him that he couldn’t say anything. 

With unbeknownst feelings, came other eyes to wander on you while Mitsuya stayed fixated. 

There were many guys in your school that had crushes on you, or you had feelings for. Mitsuya would listen to you talk and gossip about the ones you really liked in your classes. He knew listening to you made him feel worse than he already did, but you two were best friends. He didn’t want to tune you out just because of some selfish desire he had for you. He often envied the guys who got to know you on a romantic level. He wished it was him you were talking about every night. To be called handsome or cute by you would make him melt, but he knew that day would probably never come to be. Mitsuya was bummed, but he never wanted to leave your side. Dropping you for something so silly would probably hurt you more than anything else. He loved being your best friend. You truly blessed him in this life.

Now, as grown adults, you both faced many chances for romantic partners. There were several girls that Mitsuya had tried to speak to, but none of them were ever you. They didn’t laugh at his corny jokes or find interest in his little sisters. Some were just looking for a quick hookup, and usually by the end of it he was feeling guilty and not satisfied whatsoever. No one compares to you. He knew that, yet he still tried to continue finding somebody else that could numb those feelings for a little while. The same went for you as well. There were many men who sought you out throughout your first two years in university. Some of them had great intentions, while the others were not so great. The same theme always occurred. Mitsuya listening in on the random guys who made their moves on you. 

However, there was one occasion in particular that had Mitsuya a little alarmed.

One day, you and Mitsuya had met up on campus to study for some finals. You were both in the same math class and you had an upcoming test you had to do well on for your GPA to look nice for the next semester. While trying to study, you both began talking about your days and how it had gone. Mitsuya was listening but the mention of a certain name had made him pause completely in his notes.

“This guy.. Ran Haitani? He’s so hot! He gave me his number today!”

The pen in his hand almost snapped when you mentioned Ran Haitani of all people. Mitsuya had heard plenty of things about the man on campus. He was a year older than you two and he was kind of a heart throb on campus. He partied a lot and every girl swooned over the Haitani brother. Mitsuya never cared much for drama with other guys. If they wanted to play around with people’s feelings, then so be it. He just never liked to be included in such activities. However, hearing that you were involved completely shifted the story. He didn’t want you to possibly get hurt or end up in some crappy situation. You were never really involved in drama like that with guys or even girls for that matter, but he knew full well that Ran would lead you into something bad. He wasn’t the nicest guy and he probably had some malicious intent behind his words. 

Mitsuya contemplated on what he should do. He didn’t want to be a bad best friend and possibly hide information about Ran that could be crucial to your opinion on him, but he didn’t want you thinking he was doing anything out of bad intent. 

“I dunno if that’s a good idea, (Y/N). I haven’t heard the greatest things.”

Initially, his response confused you and he could see it written all over your face. Mitsuya had never spoken against other guys before, so it was very much a surprise to see him doing such a thing now. He feared at that moment he had done something wrong, considering you had been quite silent since he had replied to you. He just wanted to be as honest and crystal clear with you as possible. The last thing he’d want was that idiot Ran guy messing with your feelings. You had a big heart. Mitsuya knew that fully well, but he wouldn’t want anyone else messing around with it like it was a toy. 

“I just.. think he’s cute! That’s all! Plus, it’s not anything serious. Maybe it will be fun, Mitsuya!”

He wished it was just fun to you.

However, like a majority of your talking stages, they never really went anywhere. Ran Haitani was one of them. 

Mitsuya had no clue what happened until you phoned him earlier in the night. You sounded quite annoyed and upset over the entire situation with Ran. He had apparently ghosted you for some reason, and you had no idea why. It was frustrating to Mitsuya to hear such things. These lame guys leaving you for no goddamn reason pissed him off more than he would like to admit. There was so much to like about you. You had this amazing personality and your beauty only went along with that. There should have been guys kissing the ground you walked on. Not ghosting and leaving you for other girls that weren’t even on your level of awesome. He wished he could just tell you how he felt, but there was this devil on his shoulder that told him otherwise not to. It made him so angry, but all he could do was bite his tongue on the matter.

Mitsuya never wanted to admit jealousy. You were your own person, but his roommate, Hakkai, was very quick to point it out. He tried telling his close companion about what had gone down with Ran, and his response didn’t necessarily make it any better. 

“You’re jealous.. that’s what I’m reading here.”

Those words annoyed Mitsuya. Maybe deep down he envied those men that had their eyes on you, but jealousy? No way. 

Being the best friend he was to you, he tried his best to give you the best advice he could on the situation. He told you that Ran didn’t deserve you and that he was truly missing out on what a great girl you were. All you did was thank him and you two had made plans that following weekend to hang out. Mitsuya wished you took his words more seriously, because they were true. Assholes like that never deserved to see how great of a person you were. If he had it his way, he would have knocked them on their asses, but alas, he could never do such a thing. Not without practically spilling his guts out to you about how he’s wanted to date you since he was fourteen years old. 

He did look forward to hanging out with you, though. You were one of the few people Mitsuya genuinely enjoyed hanging out with outside of his classes. You brought so much happiness to the man, so much so he wished he could tell you all about it. 

However, he didn’t expect what was to come once he picked you up that day.

Your hangout with Mitsuya had started pretty casual and normal. He had picked you up from your dorm and you both went out to eat. He ended up choosing the spot that time since you had the chance the previous occasion. It was fairly nonchalant. You spoke about new assignments you had to get done and even brought up a vacation your mother had planned for you over the summer. Mitsuya didn’t have much to say about summer break. He usually had to take care of his sisters while his mom worked the entire day, but he did agree to make plans with you while school wasn’t in session. You guys were practically attached to the hip over summer break. It was hard to find a moment when you two weren’t out and about on the streets with one another.

You two had eventually finished your food and paid for your meals. Once you left the restaurant, you two had gone for a bit of a drive around town. The day was perfect too. The weather was clear and warm, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. It had to be one of the greatest days you guys have had in a while.

Once the sun had begun to retire for the day, you guys had traveled to one of your favorite lookout spots in all of town. It was a small clearing that was at the top of a hill. It displayed all of the lights and if you looked far enough you would be able to see the city twinkling in the distance. You guys adored coming up there every now and then, especially when the sunset was pretty. You both began talking about random stuff that was on your mind. Whether it was school or summer plans, you always had something to talk about with one another. Mitsuya always paid great attention to you. You were always so cute when you spoke about something you were passionate about. He could listen to your voice forever if it meant he got to see your smiling face whenever he replied to you. 

Though, Mitsuya hadn’t expected to end up in the backseat with you doing something that was completely shocking to him.

You were both in the back. Your thighs were on either side of him while his cock was buried inside your creamy pussy. Slick trailed down his shaft from how wet you had gotten. Your arms were wrapped around Mitsuya’s neck while he bounced you on his dick. His hands never left the plush of your hips. The grip he had on you was tight enough that it could leave a bruise on your delicate skin. You were so fucking tight. He spent so many nights fantasizing about what it would be like to fuck you in his car, or even on his bed. He never imagined a moment like this would ever come to be. Your pretty tits in his face, gorgeous voice calling out his name like it was a prayer. You were truly a sight to see, and he felt blessed being able to see it.

His pace was set at a rough one. His cock was bullying your walls and practically splitting you apart with each thrust. You didn’t think Mitsuya was that big but my god it was. He was finding all of the spaces and areas that made your eyes roll back into your skull. “M-Mitsuya..! Oh my god!” your hold around his neck tightened as the pleasure increased in your gut. He was doing everything to make you see stars, and you were living for it. 

Your voice calling his name set that fire within him ablaze. He began to roll your hips on his cock, watching with every move how your body reacted to him. Mitsuya gritted his teeth from how greatly you were sucking him in. Your walls clenched and twitched with every inch of his cock entering you. You were taking him so well. Mitsuya had this regret of not informing you sooner of his feelings, or even making an attempt to fuck you. You were like an angel sent from heaven itself just for him. So perfect and beautiful that it was no wonder why all of these men at school foamed at the mouth for such a pretty woman like you. He was finally savoring the feeling of what it’s like to fuck you, and he couldn’t believe it was this exhilarating. What a fucking beauty you were. “Ah! That’s it, princess! Takin’ my cock like such a good girl..” he then landed a slap against the fat of your ass. “F-Fuck.. can’t get enough of you, baby!”

His praise only made you squeeze him harder, earning several grunts from the man. He took a mental note of that and continued fucking you at that pace. You hissed when that sting came from his palm, but nonetheless, it faded into pleasure as he continued rutting into you. 

He wasn’t sure how things led up to this moment. You were both sitting back there, watching the sun disappear behind the clouds. It was an activity you both had indulged in several times since you both became friends. You were conversing about random things and, before he knew it, Mitsuya had kissed you. He completely lost his self control and you both began making out with each other. He tried to apologize for invading your personal space and pause before things went in another direction, but you hushed him by grinding onto his aching cock and pressing your lips against his own. Mitsuya could hardly believe that it was finally happening, but you were just too addictive for him to say no. He had been wanting a moment like this for so fucking long that letting it slip through his fingers would fill him with regret. God, he wanted you so fucking badly.

Both of you were in complete bliss. Mitsuya was showing no signs of stopping, but to be fair, you didn’t want him to stop. He was placing you on cloud nine with how great his cock was. It had been such a long time since you had sex this great. You weren’t sure why it was hitting differently. Maybe it was because you were fucking your best friend of almost six years in the back of his car. There were a few times where you thought about what Mitsuya would be like in bed. You never shared those thoughts out loud, but they often plagued your brain more often than you would like to admit. 

The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the car. Mitsuya’s hands squeezed the underside of your thighs while his cock kissed your g-spot rapidly. Sharp gasps filled his ears whenever he reached that button inside of you. He smirked to himself knowing he had found it and continued abusing it. “Shit.. you like that, baby? Heh.. bet I fuck you b-better than those assholes you mess with, yeah..?” he reached forward and squeezed your throat with his hand, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Tell me, baby, tell me I’m better..” 

Though your breathing was slightly labored due to his grip on your throat, you managed to open your mouth to speak. “Y-Yes! You’re – ah! – so much better, Mitsuya..!” you nodded your head, desperation dripping from your voice. 

He released the hold on your throat and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Your lips were so soft and puffy. He didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. Your hands tangled themselves into his lilac hair, tugging and pulling at the strands from how high the ecstasy made you feel. Mitsuya swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to enter your mouth. Once your lips parted, his tongue darted into it and the kiss became deeper. He swallowed down all of those delicious moans and cries of pleasure. He almost chuckled when he felt you struggling to kiss him back. He was hardly doing that much to you, and you were already weak for him? How fucking cute of you. He knew you would be a total sight during sex. Mitsuya envied any guy that fucked you before he did. They probably didn’t pay attention to the most beautiful parts of you. Like the way you gasped whenever he touched your g-spot, or the way your pretty skin felt under his fingertips. Not him, no, he paid attention to every little detail there was on you.

His heart had been betraying him that entire time. It screamed to pour out those feelings he had been trying to mask for the last few years. Mitsuya Takashi was madly in love with you, his best friend. He yearned to finally let his real self be shown to you, but he feared so much. You could easily reject him and never speak to him again, but he wanted to be a part of your life whether as your best friend or your boyfriend.

Mitsuya was cracking and he finally reached a point where he could no longer conceal that side of him. He had to tell you. He was practically burying himself inside your guts right now, and the excitement of it all was pushing him to do such a thing. “F-Fuck.. (Y/N).. I love you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. He made direct eye contact with you. Your eyes were clouded with pleasure and, to be honest, it didn’t seem like his words had registered through your brain. “‘Love you so much.. I can’t h-hide it anymore..”

Your eyes went wide at his statement. You had no idea that Mitsuya felt that way towards you. You thought his love for you was platonic and more brother-like, but romantic? You hardly expected those words to slip from his lips. It was a lot for you to process, especially since your brain was quite literally mush at that moment. If anything, sleeping with him proved that you felt the same way towards your best friend. You knew your feelings for Mitsuya weren’t just regular ones anymore. The way you thought of him, the amount of time you spent with him. There was a reason you wanted to be around Mitsuya more than any other guy. It may have not been love, but your heart pushed in his direction more than anything else. 

Your silence made Mitsuya’s heart drop inside his chest. He worried that you didn’t see him in such a light, and it was honestly embarrassing. However, he knew this was probably the reality of his situation. You didn’t feel the same and he was okay with that. Those thoughts were quickly interrupted when you pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn’t rough or aggressive by any means. If anything, it felt real and he swore he saw sparks fly when your lips connected with his. His thrusts soon slowed and your hips were now slowly rolling along his cock, earning a few grunts from him. Just as quickly as you kissed him, you pulled away to look at your best friend. “I like you.. Mitsuya.” your face burned with those words escaping your lips. 

He was in a state of shock. He couldn’t believe you were being truthful with him. He could easily tell when you were lying to him about something, but you were so fucking genuine that it made him want to jump for joy. Instead of saying anything else, he pulled you in by your neck to kiss you. “Come here, baby..” he whispered, then captured your lips with his. He then began to slowly rut his hips up into you. Those relentless thrusts turned savory and slow, allowing both of you bathe in each other’s embrace properly.

His hand rested on your waist, guiding you as you rode his cock. You were getting close to your high. That knot inside your belly was tightening with each thrust of his hips. You sought that release more than anything else. Mitsuya could sense it too. Your body was behaving in such a manner that practically gave it away. You were becoming whiny and your thighs were beginning to tremble beside him. He wanted to give you such a great orgasm that you wouldn’t need another man to do it for you. Only he could do such a thing to your body. 

Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder. The white hot pleasure in your gut had you practically crying his name. You pulled away, disconnecting the kiss between you two. Mitsuya saw how needy you were for him and his cock. He thought you looked so fucking gorgeous like that. “M-Mitsuya..” you whimpered, making eye contact with the man sitting before you. “Please.. fuck.. ‘m gonna cum. Need you so badly..!” 

Mitsuya increased his pace just a little, allowing you to inch closer and closer towards that desire you had within you. He watched your jaw fall slack and several high pitched moans slip from your lips. “C’mon.. be a good girl, princess.” he then began toying with your puffy clit, causing your hips to buck at the doubled pleasure. “Never gonna let anyone break your heart again..! I promise to t-take – ah! – good care of you.. you’re my girl..” 

Within seconds, your pussy clamped around his dick. Your orgasm rippled through you harder than you had expected. Your entire body began to shake and a loud cry of pleasure filled the car, bouncing off the walls. Mitsuya had also reached his high with you as well. His cum filled your cunt, covering your walls with sticky white seed. A mess had coated the base of his cock. The creamy white ring circled around it, allowing several noises to be heard as he slowed his thrusts down. He honestly couldn’t believe that you two had done such a thing with one another. However, he had zero regrets doing what he did. He was finally able to come clean with not just you, but also himself. He needed that release more than anything else. 

You slumped against his body. Your body was quite tired and you were twitching from your climax. Mitsuya’s hand landed behind your back, rubbing small circles on your skin. The temperature inside the vehicle had gradually increased from your activities, so the heat was uncomfortable. Sweat clung to your skin, leaving a small shine to your flesh. Neither of you gave much care, though. All you could think about was each other. 

You turned your face so you could press a small kiss against Mitsuya’s cheek. He couldn’t hide the smile that had formed on his features when your soft lips made contact with his skin. He held your body tighter against his own, making you feel safe with the man. “I meant what I said..” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut. “I really do like you, Mitsuya.”

He chuckled, resting his head against your own. “I meant it too, (Y/N).”

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

SPY × Family: Chapter 93 analysis

this is my first time doing something like this, and I'm no expert so please take my analysis with a grain of salt! all of this is my own theories, so you might disagree with me. please don't be mean, though (also, long post incoming!)

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 UNDER THE CUT

The chapter opens with the Eden kids getting the results of their marks, with Anya's...

overall rank shooting up, from 213th to 168th. Showing how she's slowly adjusting to the school and its pace of learning, despite being younger than everyone else (and, also, presumably doing extremely advanced things.... I remember seeing the pythagorean theorem on the board once in the anime)

Damian got highest in History (good job, buddy!), and Anya got second-highest in Classical Language (the one exam she genuinely studied hard for). But what I want to focus on is her expression:

Shock. She'd put up that front (that fake-face, if you will) in front of Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen, pretending to be all cool and suave but when she sees her results, she's genuinely surprised to get good marks in Classical Language. And even her excited reaction. She was scared of disappointing Twilight (and maybe even Sigmund and Barbara) because she'd genuinely worked hard for this exam, tried to understand, and gave it her best attempt.

But, then, it all comes crashing down with her 24 points in math: but a win is a win!

Maybe this is Twilight's turning point in the fact that acquiring knowledge can be interesting, exciting, and not just a tool of survival? Twilight himself doesn't have a great relationship with studying, (see: his father scolding him as a child for not studying, later: his friends dying because he didn't know enough about the campaign they were going on... but Twilight's relationship with knowledge and its pursuit is a whole other post in itself).

Honestly, him realising that Anya is actually thriving in the setup where education is fun for her, opens up two new avenues:

Twilight himself trying to make learning fun for Anya (unlikely, he tried that before... it didn't work.)

Him leaning on Sigmund and Barbara to tutor Anya (this seems more likely- Endo is probably going to cement the Authens as recurring characters, so them being Anya's surrogate grandparents/neighbors/tutors would seem like a great way to do so!

And then...

My main focus is on the fact that he mumbles this (also his face. But that's irrelevant). Twilight may claim, "I don't understand children", but he's an extremely perceptive man. As much as I love to clown on him, he's highly skilled at picking up on cues of people's feelings. The few times he's failed are mostly due to Anya's shenanigans trying to hide her telepathy, mixed with his usual flavour of overthinking.

But the couple of things he knows about Anya are this:

She was probably raised in an environment where Classical Language was used.

She's not fond of talking about or remembering her past.

Which is why he didn't have the heart to fully sound out the question. In the case of Anya, this is an extremely delicate matter, and he doesn't want to upset her (or, in his words, "ruin Operation Strix.") The way he asked the question and it's portrayed made it feel like he'd been pondering on it for quite a while (which he has; since the beginning of the Cruise Arc), but more so usually. Most likely due to her high marks in the Classical Language tests (aka a dead language), and the fact that she got excellent marks in it, despite formally studying it for less than a year (at least, as far as he (and we) know.) He's been thinking of the possibility, and also thinking of a way to ask her. In the end, when he does ask her—

she lies.

and he lets her. (at least, that's my interpretation)

Obviously, he knows she's not ready to speak about it yet (though we know it's probably connected to her telepathy, so she's not ready to divulge that info).

Look, as much as I love talking about how clueless he is with his own feelings, in this scene, he was just... perceptive? I don't know if that's the right word. But he was trying to keep Anya happy, and bringing up this complex topic without ensuring proper care for her wouldn't be fair to her. And he knows that. So, he leaves it at, "Just forget about it, okay?"

This entire scene felt so... tense, and in itself felt like a fucking gut punch, so I don't know how I'll react to the reveal.)

And now, onto the main focus of the chapter:

him.

If I'm being honest, I thought Demetrius was, like, 16-19 (judging by his voice in the anime), and not... fucking twelve.

Honestly, that just makes his character all the more tragic: he's barely a teenager, and yet... he's going through this. From his awards ceremony, we can see that he got, what, 6 stellas? In addition to the eight he's gotten to be an Imperial Scholar, and if he performs this well in every exam... bro is literally hoarding the Stella supply of the school (sorry, bad joke).

But...

this panel comes up. It's definitely not Anya's telepathy malfunctioning, (heck, it works on Bond and even penguins). Honestly, I think, again, it could be one of two things:

He was experimented on, like Anya

He was trained, (most likely by Donovan), to keep his mind blank.

We're told that he and Donovan had an extremely close relationship:

This could be in support of both the theories: it could be Donovan checking up on his "experiment's" progress (a crude term to refer to him), or, it could have been him subconsciously training Demetrius to hide his thoughts, keep them safe. Anya's project is connected to Desmond's administration, and at the time she was "made", Demetrius would have been around 7 or 8. Old enough for him to figure out what he wanted to have been in life (ofc, that's different for everyone! It takes time, and 8 is an extremely young age to figure out what one wants to do). But, like, how Damian wants to be a politician, it's most likely that Demetrius, the prodigal, studious, first child, would have to follow the path of politics laid before him.

So it could have been Donovan teaching Demetrius to protect his sensitive thoughts from the "weapons" he himself was making: the test subject(s) of Anya's project (again, a crude term to refer to them). Donovan was putting a lot of faith into creating telepaths (most likely for covert work), and them having unwavering loyalty to his administration was not very likely.

And, even if Anya's project was the work of another administration or even country, there's no doubt that Donovan would want to keep his thoughts hidden from these kinds of spies: ones than can see into your very mind, especially if the world is at war: a physical battle or a war for information.

The first theory of Demetrius himself being a test subject is probably Not What Happened; so I think it's probably just Demetrius being trained to keep his thoughts hidden.

But then, we get some of his thoughts:

Which is a lot reminiscent of:

So, it's probable that Demetrius imbibed this from his dad.

It's honestly a bit scary to see how Donovan's "parenting" has affected him: for him, age 12, to be like this.

After this, the chapter ends lightheartedly: Anya trying to emulate Demetrius, and Loid Being Tired™️.

I'm mostly curious about Demetrius: I was so excited when he was finally revealed! But I hope we get to see more of his thoughts, soon. Especially more about his relationship with Damian. But, this chapter was fantastic!

(This was super fun to do- if i do posts like this for chapters as they come out, would you all like it? Again, I'm not an expert in psychology (or even analysis). It's just me and my silly lil thoughts. I hope you liked it!)

[esggs]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#7 : Jealousy, Jealousy  

[Who are you calling 'onii-chan'? And why does Noritoshi hate it so much?]

[tw: noritoshi kamo x reader, arranged marriage, forced marriage, child marriage, mentions of adultery, couple slurs ig, jealous and pissed noritoshi, reader gets a crush on a non-noritoshi entity, fluff]

#6 - Husbandly Duties #8 - Ice-Cream Date

Noritoshi Kamo was nothing if not a responsible man. If he’s been given a wife to be responsible for, he’ll damn well make sure that he’s doing it properly. It doesn’t matter that the said wife is 14 years old. That’s why he’s already halfway through ‘Raising A Strong Teen Girl: Tips and Tricks for the Single Mother’ in the Kamo library, only two days after the wedding ceremony. Noritoshi Kamo, as we asserted earlier, takes his responsibilities seriously. 

The family is still mad at him for agreeing to Gojo’s demands yesterday. But what’s done is done: you will be attending Jujutsu High. In a week, in fact. The best way to proceed, Noritoshi believed, was to arm you to do your best there. 

You’re scrolling through Instagram when Noritoshi sits on the sofa next to you. Just as the book says, Rule 1: Always maintain a comfortable environment with your difficult teen. “Morning” He greets you. You ignore him. Fucking brat. “Alright then, I see you’re busy. I had some extra dango I wanted to share, but I can-”

“- I’ll have it.” Your attention is still on your phone, but at least you’re talking to him. The book’s working. Rule 2: Offer incentives for good behaviour. 

“The dango comes after though. We have to talk about your schooling first.” 

“UGH!” You look at him with such disgust in your eyes. It’s okay, Noritoshi, she just lacks proper communication skills. Remember, you're the older one. Be calm, be calm… “Fucking fine! What’s there to talk about?”

It must be noted here that this behaviour was reserved only for Noritoshi. With the servants you were kind. With the elders, you were polite and obedient to the bone, having been training to be so since childhood. And with the young Kamo kids, you were jolly friends. 

You weren’t stupid though. Your relations with the above mentioned people were set in stone. With Noritoshi, you know, that the relationship you set when your marriage is still raw will set the tone of your relationship for the rest of your lives. If you were to behave with subservience now, he’ll expect you to lick his feet forever. No, now is the time to be difficult, to upset the power balance, to get the upper hand – 

How the fuck did I get stuck here?

Noritoshi is droning on and on. You’ve lost track a good while ago. Ancient sorcery clans…past users of Distillation… respectable martial arts for nobility…Kamo heritage…proper curtsies…student discipline… Everything that Noritoshi deems important for you to know, he's making sure that you know it. He's even got the whiteboard out.

At least you can chew on the dango Noritoshi gave you. You simply nod along to whatever Noritoshi is saying, not hearing a word, happy to be given dango. From Noritoshi’s point of view, even though you’re not participating in his lessons, you’re still acting decently. Rule 3: Expect only minor behavioural improvements over time. You're not snappy; your husband is happy enough. 

Or so he thought. Why then, is he watching you giggling and playing around with, of all people in the universe, his goddamn half-brother?

—-

Miyumi, the wife of Noritoshi’s father, never extended her open and visceral hatred of Noritoshi towards you. She’s been like a caring aunt to you all your life, helping you adjust to the Kamo household when you first stepped foot in there, letting you go without doing any chores, and supplying you with as much freedom as she could vouch for. Like most of the Kamo women, she pitied you too. 

Of course, not a drop of that pity extended to Noritoshi. Not only was he constant proof of her husband’s adultery, he had also replaced her son, Kanato, as the rightful heir. Unlike most Kamo couples, Miyumi and Noritoshi’s father had actually married out of love. She had remained in love, devoted, beautiful, caring, high-status, respectful, obedient to him all her life, even bearing him a firstborn son– only to be replaced in one fell swoop. And by whom? A low-class non-sorcerer whore? With a dirty little kid simply because he could toss some blood around? 

Miyumi couldn’t even bear the sight of Noritoshi.

She didn’t mind hearing you complain about him though. She liked it when you visited her chambers, she liked talking with you. After so many years, she knew that her hatred was pointless, but the inertia of the hate did carry her forward in this stifling household. As she poured you another cup of tea while you talked about Noritoshi’s newfound determination to be a (boring) teacher who only talked about martial arts without actually letting you practise it, Miyumi smiled and called for her son. 

“He’s just back from Oxford for a week, he’s studying political history there. You haven’t met him, I suppose, little one?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t, Miyu-chan.”

Kanato’s heavy footsteps on the wooden flooring herald his arrival. 

You remember this moment for the rest of your life. Kanato Kamo, your first ever crush. Tall, lean, angel-faced, short hair dyed blonde, wearing pearls on his neck and opals on his fingers, eyeliner on his thin eyes, and a piercing above his smiling lips. Why was he walking in slow-motion? Why did your heart jump when he petted your head? Why did his voice sound like rich dark chocolates when he asked you to call him ‘onii-chan?’ Why… why does his face look so much like Noritoshi?

Your husband, Noritoshi, and his half-brother, Kanato, both look exactly like their father. Even though Kanato is a thousand times cooler and he’s in college and he wears his yakuta like a prince and you call him ‘onii-chan’ and he says he’ll teach you how to spar hand-to-hand.

Miyumi is pleased that you two get along well. Kanato chuckles at his mother's adoration for you, promising with a wink to take great care of you. You think you almost swoon.

—-

For one, Noritoshi didn’t know that Kanato was back home. Two, he definitely didn’t know that Kanato was back home to fool around with his wife. Why then is he now watching you giggling and playing around with, of all the people in the universe, his goddamn half-brother?

“Kanato.” Noritoshi slides open the door to the training rooms. It’s pretty big, stored with various weapons, targets and dummies to practise with, and lined with a soft mattress to break falls. Noritoshi was just here to shoot some arrows when he chanced upon this scene. “I did not know that you were here.”

All three of you noted that Noritoshi called his elder half-brother by his name. Yes, Noritoshi did rank higher than Kanato, but he was still younger in age. So it’s like that, huh, Noritoshi?

“It’s a big house, Noritoshi-san. It’s hard to keep track of everyone.” Noritoshi watches as Kanato winks at you and you laugh again, a blush on your face. (“Everyone, including your young wife.”)  “I was just teaching my little sister here the basics of karate. Since she’s going to Jujutsu High and all.”

“I see.” Noritoshi’s voice is measured. For the first time, it clicks in your head that he might not be happy seeing you so comfortable with his half-brother. And for whatever reason, you actually feel a little bad about it. “I’ll finish her lessons today then, Kanato. Why don’t you go rest a bit? You'd need it, I presume.” It’s clear that there’s bad blood between the brothers. Both just toe the line between politeness and hostility. 

“Presume less, little brother, you worry too much about me. I’m afraid I’ll have to finish her lessons myself, though.” Kanato grins wide. “Since she asked me to, herself.” 

For a second, you think they’ll throw hands (they don’t). You’re starting to think that it isn’t even about you. They simply cannot stand each other. In that case, you choose to pipe up, “I think I’d like to retire actually, I’m tired. Thank you for the tutorial, onii-chan.” You smile at Kanato, who returns the smile, and turn to appease your husband. “Noritoshi-san, if you could help me to my chambers?”

“Of course.” Noritoshi gives you an arm. You wave Kanato good-bye as you walk down the long corridors to your room. As soon as you two are out of earshot, his words bite. “Antagonising me will get you nowhere.”

You get it, really. Kanato’s very existence ruffles all of Noritoshi’s feathers. And to see him get this questionably friendly with his wife… yeah, it’s best not to mention the crush at all. You decide that even though you haven’t done anything wrong per se, but it’s still hurtful to Noritoshi. All right then, you decide. I’ll humour him this one time. 

So imagine his surprise when he actually hears you apologise. You've never been anything but rude or indifferent to him; to hear you say that you didn’t realise how your actions looked on the outside, and promise that you won’t be like that again! It genuinely shocks Noritoshi out of the sulky angry mood he’d slipped into. Rule 4: Always reward any good behaviour. 

Noritoshi gets you two things: another plate of dango and a promise to teach you to spar himself. Maybe, you decide, cheeks full of sweet dango, it’s okay to be nice to Noritoshi, just now and then.

bonus:

“Noritoshi’s still being an ass, I see. Not a lot’s changed here.” Kanato is lazily scrounging through his mother’s collection of jewellery. Kanato likes the more minimalistic ones, a tad bit on the high-fashion hippie line. Miyumi is happy to oblige her son, despite his father’s disapproval. Not like he approves of Kanato in any way. Not since Noritoshi, the perfect son, exists. Besides, he’ll be back to England soon. 

Miyumi’s eyes sharpen at his mention. “My god, did that brat do something to you again? I swear, I–”

“Whoa, mother, no.” Kanato, ever smiling, calms her down. “He was just super jealous that I was training with that kid. y/n. Honestly, mother, I think it was adorable. I just don’t like the way he speaks to me.”

“He has no manners. Do you know he goes out of his way to avoid me?” Miyumi sees her son pick up two lockets, one a Kamo family crest engraved on hard mahogany, another a pattern of ducks in emeralds and rubies. “Don’t bother choosing, take both.” 

“You sure, mother? I’ll kidnap some of your earrings too.”

“Yes, yes, when do I even wear them? Just don’t get them rusted.”

Kanato smiles.

next chapter: #8 - Ice-Cream Date

a/n: are they.. no i shan't say it... warming up... caring about each other's feelings... oh my...

what if reader gets jealous? here u go: Hey Handsome!

img

[aromanticannibal]

yeah so if you genuinely don't know how to write an email instead of using chatgpt and getting something that 1: has a chance to just fucking suck (and potentially be noticeably AI) and 2: uses stolen content, ruins the environment and indicates to the gen-AI companies that you want more gen-AI bullshit that will steal things and ruin the environment, you can look up how to write an email or look up email examples. here's a website, here's another, here's the wikihow page (it's a bit shit but it does its job), here's a good one for formal emails, and here's an email I sent today (more examples under the cut):

something that's really annoying right now is that most websites are desperately trying to sell you their cool funky AI friend that can write the email for you, and look at me: you have to tell it to go fuck itself (in your head, don't use it). this isn't about you being a moron for not being about to write an email, I struggled with it for a while too, I still do sometimes, writing emails notoriously sucks. gen-AI sucks more.

also, this might not be the case for everyone, but please at least try to learn how to write the email before using chatgpt, it will help you forever. if you have a question about emails or if you're not sure how to write one specific email, you can send an ask: I'm not all-knowing but I'll do my best to help.

I can mostly help for college/high school levels and I am studying in a French school, so the codes may not be exactly the same, but I am in fact being taught by English speakers, sometimes native ones.

I'll give more general advice at the end, but here are a few examples of emails I would send.

If there's even a small chance of your teacher not recognizing you, write at the top something like "I am Name Last name, I am in your X-Y-Z class on Mondays from 8AM to 9AM". This isn't too useful in high school because your teachers likely know you, but in college your teachers might not. This will give them context.

Do your best to avoid typos or grammar errors. Reread your email, especially if the teacher is a language teacher.

Be polite, always, unless the teacher explicitly specified they don't care.

You do not need to beg for anything, don't debase yourself, and if a teacher makes you debase yourself, report them. You shouldn't have to beg for something that you ask for in an email. (so no more than one please per email, and avoid this one please if possible).

If it's possible and safe for you, prefer discussing important matters IRL.

Remember who you're talking to. Is the teacher strict or chill? Younger or older? Are they a white abled man or a Black disabled woman? Are they very into "respect the teacher!!" or do they put themselves at your level? Are you a 15 y/o high school student or a 20 something college student? Is this teacher familiar with you? Have they been understanding in the past? etc.

Generally, despite all my warnings above, a simple polite email will be fine with most teachers. If you're not sure how to identify the above possibilities or how to alter your emails depending on them, just write a formal, polite email (like seen above).

Some universities have online courses that teach you how to write emails. If there is a web-type course in your university and you can take it, take it.

Mine has one. I hate it. They defined a tweet as a "post on a blogging platform". I have to complete it or I don't pass. It still has a good tutorial for writing emails. You are lucky in the sense that emails are like the basic thing that even the boomer teachers know how to do (even if they don't like doing it), so there are a lot of resources for people who haven't written emails yet and need to learn.

If possible, ask your teacher at the start of the year what email to contact them with - if you're lucky, they'll say things about what kinds of emails they want.

If you're lucky still, someone else will send a shit email and the teacher will make a point during the class to remind how to write a proper email.

I put "Dear name" everywhere, but if it's not an extremely formal setting, some teachers will be fine with a "Hello". If you're not sure of the receiver's gender, use their title (Dr. etc).

For the extension: sometimes teachers aren't allowed to give you an extension or are assholes who don't want to give you an extension. In that case, don't bother writing another email (again: don't beg. + it will make them dislike you which you don't want).

This works more in work settings, but I read once that it's good to say "I will be taking a day off" rather than "May I take a day off/is it possible to take a day off". Just say that it's going to happen.

Know your rights. I can't know them for you. Figure out what the teacher can and cannot do through legal documents on your school's website or whatever. Know your rights depending on your state or country.

If you have a bad memory and don't want to have to look up how to write an email everytime, open your notes app or your blocknote or any preferred place to take notes and write down the important. I'd advise to note common greetings, subjects, opening and closing lines. Same for your teachers, if you need to remember which one is a bitch and which one is chill, write their name down with a description.