#and people who like her are more willing to either 1) put her as a morally grey person or 2) see her actions a

[phantajam]

my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)

[temikoangie]

💫

💫: did you know that tenko + angie parallel eachother not just in their personalities but also in their deaths.

angie's eyes being Not Visible bc she witnessed korekiyo's setup + tenko's mouth being Not Visible because he was silenced. Both Were Killed with a sharp weapon Into their Necks. Them Dying and Lying facing eachother . and in their own way, made a contribution to himiko's character arc ( even if tenko Was more talked about thn angie i think she also had a Big Part to himiko methinks. she meant alot to himiko and companied her when she felt like she was alone )

[kenzieluvsnanami]

kenzieluvssuguru :: ☆*:.｡.o the roommate (18+) o.｡.:*☆

You were sure you hated him. From the crown of his silky, jet black hair to the bottom of his bunny-slipper clad feet. Everything he did pissed you off. Whether it’s finishing your very expensive shampoo or sneaking bites of your carefully hidden sweet treats, one thing was for certain: Geto Suguru knew how to get and STAY on your last nerve. (f!reader x suguru)

cw *:･ﾟ✧ roommate/no curses/college au, reader is overworked and underpaid 😭, auditory voyeurism? (by reader).. readers basically a cuck (unknown to suguru, sooo dubcon kinda), cheeky suguru/slight humour (cant help myself), dirty talk, OF references, description of the devils tango (but not w reader) and mastúrbation *:･ﾟ✧♡ 3.2k words // part 1 , part 2

He had become your roommate at the beginning of second year. Having an egregiously rich grandmother who liked her grandkids to earn their keep had its perks at times, one of those being the inheritance of a beautifully furnished townhouse that was only a half hour commute from your university.

However, the downside was the substantial cost of maintaining the house. Bills pilled up fast and whilst your grandmother was lounging in Turks and Caicos, you were working multiple jobs: the campus coffee shop on off-days, a drum and bass club on the weekend and tutoring whenever time allowed.

It was

Wearing.

You.

Down.

By the end of the second semester you had enough. Physically and emotionally drained, you sat down and pondered over all the possible avenues of making money - ASAP since energy companies were not necessarily known for their patience and generosity. Whilst starting an OF was firmly out of the equation, it did give you an idea. Instead of selling yourself, you could sell your home! Ok, not the whole house - but there was a spare room adjoined to yours, fully furnished with its own small terrace. A charming, spacious place where many students living on campus dorms would love to be. However, who did you know that was willing to move out this late in second year? Most had already settled into their new homes and were already accustomed to the people they lived with. You tried asking around but unfortunately it was all rejection.

Dejected, you slinked into your critical analysis class that evening, eye bags so heavy they were almost pulling your eyes shut. The tiredness must have put you you some sort of delirious state because when you sat in your usual seat as you pondered over your situation... aloud?!

"you want someone move in with you?" echoed the mild-mannered man beside you.

Confused and slightly taken aback, he asked you to repeat yourself, to make sure he heard you clearly. Rather frustrated, you grumbled out the question not even meaning to ask him about your situation and to your surprise - he actually said yes. Eyes widening and back moderately straighter, you exchanged contact information and asked him to meet tomorrow so you can discuss more.

You had left the lecture shaken out of your fatigued stupor and felt a tinge of regret already. You barely know this man. All you knew was that his name was Geto Suguru, he’s in your class and will be your new roommate in the next couple of weeks. From what you had gathered from your brief interactions, he seemed like a normal person… at least you hoped so.

You knew he was well mannered. Remembering from the time you tripped over his foot, limbs flailing awkwardly - and how he’d lunged out, firmly grasping you by the waist to stop you from falling flat onto your face. As soon as you had steadied, he apologised profusely with slightly flushed cheeks and averted eyes.

He seemed well kept, his full, shoulder-length hair was never greasy or out of place. Either in a half-up bun or flowing freely, it was definitely a cause for envy. He dressed neatly, loose jeans or joggers with a plain tee or sweatshirt seemed to be his staples. Fingernails were slender - elegant, your sideways glances during lectures providing a view of his graceful, willowy hands. Long and dainty fingers gently tapping on the laptop in front of him.

All known factors considered, when it comes to roommates you seemed to have won the lottery. A quiet and respectful man seemed like a few in a dozen in this generation. How lucky were you!

The first few weeks were like a sort of honeymoon period. Sharing a space with someone you didn’t know was as awkward as you would think it would be. Small smiles when you ran into each other in the hallway and if you were feeling bold, some small talk over breakfast before your shared class.

The ice was breaking between the two of you as you slowly adapted around each others routines. Everything seemed to be going perfectly. You were getting more sleep due to the fact that you didn’t have to work as hard to pay your bills (thanks to your dual income) and actually felt like a human being for once.

Feeling human meant that a lot of additional needs had been forgone and most importantly your dormant libido had jumped back alive. That itself was nothing to write home about but it was more so how you came to this realisation which was.

It was 3 months prior, when you had left your room for a late night snack. Wrapped in your hello kitty throw, you softly pattered down the hall into the kitchen. Treats successfully acquired, you walked back into the hall and was greeted with a mass of steam flowing out from the bathroom, a tall figure emerging.

It was your room mate (duh) but in a way you had never had seen him before. His raven hair was deliciously tousled - the messiest you had ever seen it and...

it. was. beautiful.

The towel wrapped around his slight waist exposed his athletic build, deceptively slim but a slight flex allowed you to see the unbridled power hidden within. His ab definition was exemplified by the drops of water falling from the light smattering of hair trailing down to his deep cut V line.

He was absolutely stunning.

You were frozen for more than a few seconds, marvelling at the discovery of this new side to your roommate. He was… heavenly. You didn’t even realise Suguru had fully left the bathroom until you felt a warm gust of air as he swished past you, a drop of water splashing onto your face as he teasingly poked you. You sped back into the safety of your room and slammed the door. He had you salivating like a damn dog by just a flash of his upper body?? Yes, he may have looked good (a bit more than good actually) but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before.

Since that night, the dynamics of your relationship had imperceptibly changed. You couldn’t really describe how in a concise manner but Suguru had definitely changed. He was much more bold - seemingly doing everything in his power to make you flustered.

It first started with him wearing less and less clothes in the common areas of the house. You weren't completely unreasonable, leaving his room in just his red plaid PJ bottoms and those god forsaken bright pink bunny slippers could be excused. After all, this was his new home and you did want him to be comfortable. You just had to be mindful of not staring too long into his plump, juicy pectorals that were practically two small pillows that you could just face plant into. Not to mention the absolute dumptruck he was carrying from behind. During your dinners together (you always ended up cooking way more for yourself than needed), you really had to fight to keep your eyes fixed onto his face as he spoke and even then you’d find yourself being drawn further and further into his deep, purple eyes. Even his voice, calm, even and low was akin to a sirens call, causing you to be further and further enraptured with him.

Why couldn’t you just be normal about your roommate. You know plenty of people who houseshare with the opposite sex and it doesn’t seem to be as hard for them as it is for you. Maybe you just need a quick fuck? Something to get it out of your system so you can stop feeling like so…. lustful during the most regular exchanges.

It was hard to stop thinking thoughts like that when you would come home from a study group or be leaving early for a shift at the cafe to find Suguru slumped over the couch casually watching a telenovela or a 2000s sitcom. This normally would not be any kind of issue if for the fact he wasn’t practically naked par a grey set of loose Calvin Klein boxers.

The first time this happened you were almost late for work, your body physically refusing to move at the sight of his thick thighs, corded muscles tensing as he swung his legs down from resting on the cushion next to him and patted the space beside him - gesturing for you to sit. The soft smile on his face, eyes shut, eyebrows relaxed and seemingly in a state of inexplicable bliss for someone with 12 assignments due that week was all a bit too much for you to handle as you snapped out of your daze and rushed out of the door.

Suguru’s next ‘misstep’ was his use of almost all of your things and general disregard for personal space. He seemed to find joy in watching you put two and two together and realise that the reason why the whole house smells like Shea vanilla is because he “accidentally” used your body wash whilst bathing and so “just had to” grab the matching lotion, body oil and spray from your room - so he didn’t “smell confused”.

To think that this was the same man who was so quiet when he first moved in honestly is beyond human comprehension, his eyes crinkling shut as he laughed with genuine glee about how in the process of looking for the spray he tripped over your charging hitachi wand.

“Is my roommate feeling a bit pent up?” he drawled as he fake pouted, the tips of your ears burning at the fact that the object of your current infatuation knew about what you did in your… free time. “I was wondering what all that buzzing was last night.”

Suguru was comfortable at your shared house. Too comfortable. Which leads us to what happened today, what you considered to be the most egregious misstep by your roommate and would have made you so pissed if it hadn’t made you so wet.

It’s a Friday - nothing too crazy about that fact, it was just the week coming to an end. As your professor informs you of the upcoming assignments for the following week, Suguru leans down to tell you that he might be home a bit later than usual as he wanted to go to a friends houseparty. This isn’t anything too out of the ordinary, you knew that he was quite well known amongst the second years and as a result he was always flitting in and out the house midweek. You didn't really understand why he was specifically informing you of his whereabouts this time but you thanked him and made your way straight to coffee shop to start your shift.

Today was by far the hardest shift you’ve ever had, the sheer volume of people you had to serve and the few staff that were booked in to work. You were absolutely exhausted. You definitely were up for an orgasm or two to destress and your.. personal massager would be fully charged by the time you got home.

Clocked out at 7 and you were currently speed walking back to the house. A warm bath, filling meal and rewatching one of the telenovela’s Suguru had introduced to you sounded like an excellent plan. Just the action of running the bath, pouring the salts and soap and stripping off your stiff uniform silenced all the noise in your mind - you could truly feel the tension rolling off your body as you eased into the bathtub.

After an hour long soak, you made a wholesome pasta dish and binge watched TV until you started to feel your eyelids drooping shut as the day begun to catch up with you. You dragged yourself to your room, the silk sheets and quilted comforter lulling your weary body to a sweet, sweet slumber.

That was until… 1.27am according to your bedside clock. The loud bang of the front door shook you awake but it’s what you heard next that kept you up.

A bang on the hallway wall and what sounded like... kissing? Sloppy and heated, you could hear the mewls and whines of a woman coupled by occasional groans from what had to be… your roommate?

Footsteps got louder and louder until you could hear them through the shared wall between your rooms. The bed creaked as it hit the bedroom wall and you could hear the low murmur of your roommate’s voice. Almost instinctually, you carefully raised yourself up from the bed and pressed your ear to the wall to hear better.

“You’re going to take allllll of it, okay?” Suguru said lowly, the woman giggling as he retorted “Don’t get shy with me now. We both know you were begging for it.”

You knew what you were doing was fucked up. How could you keep eavesdropping on your roommate fucking another girl but somehow you were unable to tell your body, warmth pooling in your core.

The soft thud of clothes hitting the ground was accompanied by the rejoining of the pair, the loud kissing and sounds of scattered bedsheets made you ponder. This was the first time you had ever heard Suguru do anything remotely sexual. He made jokes (mainly to your demerit) about the apparent lack of sex and I mean, you appreciated that he respected the space that the two of you shared by not always having people over or at least doing it when you weren’t home but part of you just innately knew that he wasn’t seeing anyone - serious or casual. That’s why this is so unexpected.. but not unwanted.

See, it had interrupted your much needed sleep but you couldn’t deny how horny this was making you. The fact that you could hear what it would be like to fuck your roommate and the added taboo of him not knowing you could hear - you were almost soaked in your own essence, a hand snaking down to your pyjama bottoms so that you could alleviate some of your pent-up tension.

“Open your mouth” Suguru demanded. A slight pause in movements as you heard what must have been a fat, wad of his saliva splash into the woman’s mouth. “Good girl” he cooed, the woman moaning back in pure, unadulterated need.

You stifled your own whine, the delicious pressure of your fingertips on your swollen nub combined with your roommates filthy, sinful words had you so close. The woman gasped at what you can only imagine being Suguru finally pulling down those grey boxers. Another splash and a steady, slick rhythm began - probably Suguru stroking himself, long slender fingers wrapping tight around his base dragging his hand right up to the tip, thumb swirling to collect any pre-cum to lubricate his shaft even more.

“Please..” the woman pleaded. “Please what?” Suguru chided “If you are going to beg at least beg properly”. “Please..please put it in” she mumbled. “You’re still not asking properly but” A loud squelch and the woman’s even louder moan interrupted Suguru’s almost lazy drawl. He seemed so relaxed, responding back as if he himself didn’t want this as bad as she did. “I’m in a good mood so I’ll do as you wish” he punctuated his sentence with a sharp thrust, the already worn bed frame jolting into the wall as he fully buried himself into this woman.

Her mewls seemed to get even higher and higher in pitch as the two established a steady rhythm. Hand firmly placed along your slit, you toyed with oozing entrance and sensitive clit - middle and ring finger prodding into your hole, scissoring and feeling your inner walls. You gathered some more of your essence and spread it onto your thumb, applying more and more pressure as you swirled your bud. It was like you were in a freaked out flow state, your mind purely focused on achieving that high. You tuned out the shrieks of the other woman and honed in on your roommates low grunts, imaging how tense his abs would be from the sheer effort he would be putting, arms caged around you in missionary as he just plowed straight into you until you both came.

The bed creaks became more and more frequent, your hand moving faster and faster as you heard the woman cry out one last time and start sobbing. It seemed your roommate had slowed down slightly, close himself as the thrusts became more slow and tempered not hitting the wall as loudly. You were so so close, focusing on deep breathing to slow it down so that you could come undone at the same time as him.

As he got close himself, you could hear some sort of low rumble… was he.. whining? You could also hear his murmured praises to his partner “You did so good… thank you so much… your so pretty…ngh.. all…urghh….fucked out…mffh.. like this”. He seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth, so close to the edge. Even though you knew he wasn’t talking to you, all the words just melted into your brain adding to your dazed, enraptured state. You couldn’t hold out any longer, fingers moving into overdrive as you reached your peak and fell head first into the mind-numbing pleasure of release as you heard Suguru’s muffled cry as he came.

As the static from your ears started to clear and you were finally able to come back to earth from that earth-shattering orgasm, you could hear a slightly more heated conversation happening in the adjoined room.

“What the fuck was that” the woman whisper shouted while pulling on her clothes. “What the fuck do I know??” puffed your roommate as he seemed to pace around the room. “You just groaned another girls name as you came Suguru. That’s fucked up.. Seriously?” You could practically hear the sheepish look on his face as the door banged for a second that night.

How can he moan another girls name whilst he’s balls deep inside of her? I mean thinking back you may have heard him say your name but that was just because you were in a freaked out flow state, right?… right?

And that’s why at 3.09am you had come to the solid conclusion that you hated Geto Suguru. He was obnoxious, used your stuff AND had the cheek to mock you for what’s in your room but most importantly he fucked a girl and said your name whilst he came. Not only did he hurt this poor girl but he left you even more confused. Where do you even go from here? Did he know you heard the whole thing? Even if he did what does this change? Your hot roommate maybe does want to pipe you? This should be a good thing but for some reason you know it’s going to be more complicated than that...

part 2

a/n *:･ﾟ✧♡ :: credits to @/cafekitsune for the dividers! part 2 shld be done by the 10th (no promises 😭) but i lowk do want to drag it out to a three parter.

likes and reblogs make me squirt!

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 1}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: But what is there to miss at the end of the world? It depends on the person, but you? You would do anything for decent kitchen gadgets, something you let slip to your routine patrol partner, one Joel Miller.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence (later chapters), canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, head injury, reader bonks her head, mild concussion, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, two (2) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting. fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name

A/N: home on bed rest today after a cortisone shot and i was reading through the draft for this when the words all came together for the first installment and i'm super excited to share it with y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Joel Miller was a quiet man, not quick to engage in conversation beyond the pleasantries of greeting someone as he crossed paths with them, or asking after the issues people bring to his attention. Not quick to divulge his personal activities or words of his past. But he was willing to help anyone who approached him, the list on the spiral notepad in his back pocket never ending. Every single pair of the man’s pants held the same distressed markings, a testament to how he never left home without it wedged into the fabric.

But you wouldn’t admit to having noticed such a small thing.

The man’s pants were none of your concern, truly. As someone who regularly patrolled with him, would wave to him throughout the town’s streets and gatherings though he would seldom return it, his attention pulled toward someone wishing to interact with him. But that didn’t mean you weren’t aware of the faded lines along the denim stretched over his backside.

Almost as if were a secret you held to yourself much like the fondness you found pulling at your lips every time you mounted your horse alongside him and left through the gates.

The man in question held out a thermos to you, steam rising from the top of it where he had left it open to breath. The early morning carrying a slight chill despite the birds chirping happily and the buds beginning to bloom along the trees around the town.

“So, I know you’re good with a shotgun,” His rich baritone washed over you, warming you faster than the coffee he had taken the time to brew and the rising sun, barely cresting over the horizon now. “But what do you like to do to fill your time?”

“Like…for fun? Or to make the day go by?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking sideways at Joel as he rode a few paces ahead, he knew the trail by heart at this point. The same one you always did this time of the month, a routine set in stone that allowed you a pocket of alone time with him outside the town’s walls.

“Either. Both.”

“Um, well it’s not so easy now, but cooking, making things for people to enjoy.” You took a tentative sip, slurping accidentally as you realized it was still a touch too hot for the sensitive skin of your lips. You sputtered, droplets of the hot liquid flecking along the saddle and back of the appaloosa’s neck. The sweet mare startled, halting in her steps. The sudden stop causing you to knock the top of the thermos to your chin, more of the hot liquid finding your lips.

“Fu- c’mon Lowry, you know I didn’t mean to get ya!” You lightly scolded, tugging on the collar of your button up to wipe at your now throbbing face. You felt heat flood you, fluttering in your stomach as you realized how embarrassing a sight you just put on for the man beside you. But he wasn’t chuckling with that deep rumble he tended to do sometimes. Instead, he was calmly urging his own steed to come to a stop.

He dismounted, coming up beside you. He had a clean kerchief in his hand that he was holding out to you. You had no idea where he pulled it from, his jacket pockets were zipped closed. At least, they looked like it as your eyes had roved over his form ahead of you. Once you wiped the coffee from your face, he was moving closer, causing your heart to flutter.

“Lemme see,” His thick fingers were brushing your bottom lip and you froze. His eyes were focused on the way they looked irritated, catching the soft morning light. You tried to hide the way your breath hitched, but you were sure it puffed against his thumb, giving your nervousness away. He had never been so forward before, only spare instances of hands and thighs brushing against each other over the months you’ve been paired with him. “Doesn’t look too bad, sweetheart.”

As quickly as he had reached out, he was moving away with a lingering brush of his hand along your chin, an unreadable expression on his face. All you could do was nod an affirmative, feeling heat bloom in your chest and the swell of your cheeks.

Lowry knickered, bobbing her head. Joel’s hand then reached out and caressed the side of her face, gentle sounds humming from his chest.

“Were you a fancy, make it from scratch kinda cook or one that threw everythin’ in a crock pot and played the waiting game?” He turned his head to the side, catching your eye. A small grin you weren’t sure how to read pulling at his plush lips. “I was pretty hopeless in the kitchen, made a lot of spaghetti and had a lot of cereal.”

“Oh, um, from scratch.” You thought back to the meals you would create, the flavor profiles you would put together. “But that’s not so bad, sometimes routine is good, I’m sure you needed the carbs and protein to do….carpentry?”  

“Contracting, actually.”

“I had a contractor scheduled to look into a re-do of my kitchen, but they never showed. It was such a letdown; he came so highly recommended. But I guess it was just too big of a project for him.”

“Nah, was probably just a matter of supply and demand.” He easily comforted you. “Kitchens are a lot of work. Especially if the design is for someone who spends a lot of time in the room. Need all kinda gadgets for that, hmm?”

“Typically, which is why it can be such a hassle nowadays. But it’s a small price to pay for being so safe in town. The loss of a good cutting board or sturdy utensils is a good trade for the life we have.”

Joel only hummed in response, and you felt like you had spoken too much. Opened up in the wrong way to the man back in front of you, his horse trotting along happily.

He didn’t ask you any more questions as the route was made and you didn’t try to bridge the gap, feeling foolish for voicing your rather naïve loss of kitchenware. You often has small conversations of a similar fashion, a simple question. Not too focused, general. Easy going subjects that allowed you glimpses of each other.

Later that night, Joel stood in the doorway of his workspace.

He had just stepped out of the shower, washing the long hours of the day from his shoulders. Ellie had left a plate of what she deemed dinner for him with a note before she had taken off for the night.

‘Gotta keep your mind sharp, old man. Here’s some dinner cause I know you didn’t stop to eat all day.’

She had even included a smiley face with downturned eyebrows, the little shit. And it made him realize he needed to set some time aside for another guitar lesson, just the two of them. A day on the porch in the warm sun while it was still the season for it. It was well into Autumn, the leaves changing into rich colors all around the town and in the forests beyond the walls.

But not seeing her didn’t feel like the worst thing because it had been a productive day. Patrol with you, then helping Tommy to work through foundation of a few new houses. The town was growing and he was glad to help, never having even dared to dream of a place such as this before he had quite literally stumbled upon it nearly a year ago.

Eyes trailing over everything he had neatly organized in the room. The different, albeit only a handful, types of wood he had accumulated with the help of the council. There was an ancient sawmill in one of the town’s buildings, used to help cut downed trees to turn them into lumber for construction. Tommy had been able to help them run diagnostics on it once he had become a part of the population, his shared past with his brother allowing for him to have the knowledge to maintenance it and get it in operating form.

He wasn’t sure what wood was typically used for kitchenware, nor was he sure he had a food safe sealant. But he was going to inspect everything in town, mind working overtime as he removed the small spiral notebook from his back pocket and began writing down his thoughts as they bubbled up.

Spatulas

Serving spoons

Rolling pins

Spoon rests

Cutting boards

Joel underlined the last one, knowing what a vision it would be to see you lovingly stood at the counter in his kitchen making a meal for a shared dinner. And excited smile on your face, explaining the details of the recipe you were working on. And he would listen to every word, even if he didn’t understand. To see the brightness of your soft smile as you shared parts of yourself with him. He rather liked that you had become his regular patrol partner, you could read the moods he felt. If he was open to conversation, if he needed little quips to keep him on his toes, if he had had a small argument or disagreement with Ellie and needed to either stew or hash it out.

You were good and he wanted to use his aching hands to not only provide for the town, but to provide for you as well.

The rest of the week passed easily, another patrol alongside Joel having occurred. But he had been rather quiet, in his head for most of the silent trip around the settlement. You hadn’t thought much of it, in your own thoughts as well. Made okay by the pair of thermoses of coffee he had brought along for you both indulge in. An easy-going rapport built up between the two of you, one where the sharing of such a commodity was matched.

Upon taking the first tentative sip, he had assured you it wasn’t as hot as last time.

The strong heat it lacked seemed to bloom across your cheeks, recalling the last time he had handed it to you. The whisper of his fingers against your lip as he inspected it for burns making it hard to look at the man watching you take a drink, ensuring that it really was cool enough to not harm you.

Smiling to yourself at the memory, you made your way through the streets and into the front of the town, toward the collection of shops with a list in your pocket. But all thoughts of productivity were halted when you spotted him.

Joel’s broad back was visible even from down the main street. Busy working on repairing a sign for one of the shops that fronted along it. The sawhorses he had propped up supported the new frame he was building according to predetermined measurements. You watched as he leaned down to read something along the wood, pencil tucked behind his ear, a tape measure carefully stretched out. His hand patted at his back pocket, the sound making heat bloom in your stomach and dive lower as suddenly as the sound.

Someone shouted his name before you could even form your lips around the sound of his name, his head lifting up and looking right past you to whoever it had been. Your half-raised hand feeling awkward, and a wave of embarrassment whooshed through you. You shoved your hand in your pocket and kept on your path, though you had no true reason to be on this side of town. The only one you had now occupied with someone else.

You didn’t dare look his way or see who it was who called to him as you crossed the street and began to inspect the fruit out on display. The first tentative crops of the season had done decently enough and then flourished. Apples aplenty. The trees so fruitful this year. Reprimanding yourself for entertaining the thought of ambling around, you decided to actually get a few errands done. You were out already, after all.

You had signed your name along the inventory and the weight of the apples you deemed worthy of being backed into a pie when a bark of laughter had you whirling around. He was working no longer, attention pulled to the woman standing closely in front of him. Joel’s hand cupped over her shoulder. His expression was so open, his eyes kind and trained on her. She reached up to brush some sawdust from his curls and you bolted.

But you hadn’t looked.

And you ran right into the end of the wooden boards Tommy had balanced on his shoulder as he walked down the street. Pain blossomed on the corner of your forehead at the contact, balance suddenly gone along with it. The canvas bag of apples flies from your grip, bouncing around the packed gravel of the street just as your body thumps to the ground.

A pair of voices pulled you back from unconsciousness. A dull ache reverberating from your temple and you groaned as you brought a hand up to gently prod at the spot. You were in your bed, a small thing to be grateful for. Not too fond of the small medical center set up in the middle of town, right off of main street. Tommy’s steps were quiet as they came down the hall, his voice preceding his entrance.

“You awake, Olive? What had you so distracted? You walked right into me.” His strong brows were furrowed, concern etched into his weather features. His curls bouncing with his steps as he came to rest on the end of your bed. He wasn’t teasing, question genuine and worry wafting from him as he reached a hand out to jostle your foot atop the covers.

“Shut up, Tommy. I was lookin’ at my feet.” You felt heat creep up your face, recalling the way you had been ogling his older brother and then gotten so worked up that the man had been touching another woman so causally. It shouldn’t have bothered you, it was really none of your business.

Sensing the serious hush of your words, Tommy regarded you with sharp eyes.

“It’s not like you to not be aware of your surroundings. Please tell me what happened?”

“Nothing happened.” You kept his gaze, eyes not giving anything away as you moved to sit up. But it was too fast a movement, the momentum of your balance thrown off as your temple throbbed. A hissed curse fell from your lips.

“…okay. Well, you’re off from patrol tomorrow, to rest that bump on your pretty little head, okay?”

“I can do patrol.” You felt panic flare hot in your chest, worried for the reason of losing your time with Joel out beyond the gates and not because the man in front of you thought your injury was serious enough to take you off of rotation.

“Honey, you smacked your head into some lumber. Don’t think you need to be on a horse right now, just take the day, okay? For me?” When you looked back up, he was making big eyes at you, knowing you couldn’t resist his kicked puppy routine.

“Tommy, do not look at me like that.”

“Can’t blame me for using it when I know it makes you crumble.” A upturn of his lips on one side allowed for a dimple to appear. Maria was a lucky woman, though you knew that for all the strength and seriousness she possessed, she was no match for the same look aimed her way.

“You’re a butt.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and settling into the pillows even more.

“Yeah,” He stood from the bed and walked over place a bottle of aspirin on the small table you kept beside it. “But you like it.”

“Not when it’s aimed at me.”

The apples you had tried to get yesterday were on the counter down the hall when you finally got up from the bed. It was late, well into the night but sleep wasn’t coming easily. The echo of Joel’s easy laughter and voice from across the street as he talked with the woman in your ears.

With the warm light of your kitchen, you washed away your worries and thoughts by beginning to mix together a dough. Letting it set to rise for a bit as you washed a circular pan, cut the apples into thin slices, and prepared a mix of seasonings. Creating something with the energy flowing through you that had no other outlet.

You had just made a kettle of tea, body tired from the out-of-routine events of the last twelve hours and allowing you to sleep well past the rising of the sun. A distant thought of now being about the time you would be approaching the gates and waiting for them to allow you back in.

Curling your legs up, you had just settled into the couch with a book and your mug when a knock sounded on your front door. Startling, you felt your heart hammer harshly a few times before you stood back up and moved toward it.

You weren’t sure who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Joel in his post patrol glory. His curls were windswept, some of them frizzing and creating a hallow around his head. His cheeks were a little dusty from the strong rays of the early morning sun, illuminating his golden skin in a rather eye-catching way.  

“Hey, sorry, did I wake you?” One of his hands was resting on the doorway, his jacket pulled open as it rested over his shoulders unzipped. Broad, your mind helpfully pointed out. He took up nearly the entire doorway, the sun behind him and his face lit up from the open windows of your living room. Shadows making it obvious how big of a man he was.

“Oh, um, no. I was just starting to get up and about.” You stepped out of the way, a silent invitation for him to enter your home. He had only been a handful of times before. To fetch Ellie as she waited for him to return from a later patrol, not wanting to be in the main part of his house alone. Or to help fix something that had begun to have problems. There had always been a reason and you were trying to figure out the current one. “Do you want some tea? I just made a kettle of orange spice.”

He followed you through the living room after ensuring the door was securely sealed. As he did you were made aware of the oversized cardigan you had thrown on over a camisole, sweatpants that were too big fastened around your waist.

“Missed ya on patrol this morning,” He took the offered mug, taking a tasting sip before offering you a grateful smile. You knew he wasn’t big on tea, but this one you suspected would pass the test. His voice was low, velvety smooth in that drawl of his. It warmed you up, filling your chest. And for a second, you thought he meant it. “Jesse was the replacement. That boy sure does have a mouth on him, prattled on and on about I don’t even know what.”

Only for a second, because of course he would prefer you to one of the younger members of the settlement alongside him.

“I was just feeling a little under the weather,” You averted your eyes from his, roving up and down your form at your words. A glint of something behind them you couldn’t read. He didn’t buy it, the flimsy excuse. You could tell because one of his brows arched and that damned dimple appeared in his right cheek as his lips lifted up in a teasing smirk.

“Not tryna get away from me, are ya?” That same, syrupy drawl coasted you and made your movements slow. There was an undertone of something in his words that you tried not to read too much into. He was just joking, right?

As if you could even try. He was a staple of the town, from his physical presence at every important meeting to the things he fixed. Pieces of him, of the life he had created for himself and for Ellie prominent all around.

“No, ah- ha, this is so embarrassing but,” You busied yourself with finding a small enough container to send him home with a piece of the pie sitting uncut on the table. Having been left to cool after your late night baking escapade. Setting it down beside the pan, you picked up the knife you had taken out just before Joel knocked on your door, intending to cut into it at some point during the day. “I hit my head yesterday and Tommy insisted I take the day off.”

“Are you alright?” He was stepping close, one of his hands coming up to gently brush your hair away from your face while the other took the knife from your hand and set it back on the table. Eyes searching for any sign of the injury, his lips thinning when they landed on the bruise on your temple you had tried to hide. It had mottled overnight, into a dark purple, faded around the edges of the raised bump in the middle. His thumb whispered against it, causing you to suck in a deep breath full of the smell of him. His chest was so close that it brushed against your own with it, his face was so close that you could see the individual hairs of his salt and pepper scruff, the freckles decorating his weathered skin.

Dizzying, it was so dizzying to be that close.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he was suddenly leaning in even closer. His head ducking to allow for his lips to softly brush over the bruise, not wanting to agitate it but wanting to soothe.

“There,” His breath fanned over your face, the lingering scent of coffee along with it. And then he was stepping back, his hands dropping from where they had cradled you. “All better.”

The sunlight was soft, streaming in through the kitchen window. Illuminating a rich, thick cut of mahogany. Stepping closer towards the counter, your hands twitch as if to reach and run over the expanse of the smooth wood. It was carved to be a perfect shape and size, small feet propping it up from the counter directly. Little flowers engraved in the corners and protected by a sheen of sealant. It was beautiful and you blinked quickly to stave off the tears surging at the sight.

He did it. He listened to you.

Footsteps had you turned from it, hips meeting the edge of the counter as you tried to act like you hadn’t been admiring the new addition to the home casually laid out for people to see.

Tommy had a bottle in his hands, wine he had found on a recent patrol that he thought you’d like. But as soon as he entered the room, he clocked that you had gotten up from your spot, what you were next to.

“Who knew my brother would end up making decorative pieces in the apocalypse, huh?”

“I don’t know him well enough to agree, we only patrol together.” Smooth words didn’t betray the way you pictured the man seated and concentrating on carving into the block of wood to create something so beautiful. His large hands gripping the handles of tools you couldn’t even begin to name, brushes to wipe away the shavings, to slather the sealant over it. The striking sound of sandpaper fills your senses along with the scent of freshly carved wood.

A lingering one you could often catch if Joel was close enough, of rich cedar mingled with whatever he used to wash. Culminating into how he always smelled, signature, familiar. Easy to pick out in a crowd and no it was him. Blinking, you focused back in the present, reigning in your thoughts of a man you had no business thinking after in such a manner.

He was a patrol partner. An acquaintance.

“Oh hush, Olive, you know him more than most.”

You just hummed, eyes looking everywhere but at the man across the room. He busied himself pouring a drink into two glasses. Just as you took a sip, Maria entered the room with Joel right behind her, shoulders laden down with canvas bags. Seems they had been out, and he decided to walk her home, protective even on unsure ground with the woman deep into her pregnancy.

“It really is beautiful Joel, already have a few requests for them from some people around town.” Maria joined in the conversation, noticing the way that Joel’s eyes had zoned in on the piece of wood settled atop the counter. As if he was seeing each mistake and wrong shave of the wood even from across the room. He moved to place the bags he had taken from her atop the table, nodding a greeting at you as he realized you were right beside the thing he had tried his hand at creating. Spurred on by your little tangent weeks ago.

“Not really lookin’ to make that my pastime, yours was just a trial run.” Joel shrugged the words off, the praise off, like he so often did. Even when the haphazard crew he worked with completed repairs on a building or created a new one from the ground up, it was always the same response. A brush of the direct compliment to everyone who worked on it together, even if it was his plans and his hands that had played a part in the whole thing.

“Don’t even know where you got the idea, brother, such a random thing to think to make.” Tommy moved to press his lips to Maria’s cheek in greeting before helping her to put things away.

Your eyes snapped to Joel, willing him to admit that it hadn’t been his idea, but your own. It was silly, really, to want his immediate family to know that you two had talked, shared things with each other that resulted in an item that was now a part of their life. Pointless, no real connection except for the one made up in your mind and an overinflated sense of importance. Just a throwaway comment when you recalled the difference good cooking supplies could make. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his hands deep in his pockets and his shoulder hunched.

“Jus’ came to me, one night, is all.”

Your chest panged at his indifference; it didn’t have to mean anything. But it meant something: that he didn’t want to reveal that he had opened up to you once upon a time on patrol. That he had listened to you as you had done the same. Couldn’t let others know that he was open to genuine conversation sometimes. Or maybe just that it was with you, someone he tended to look over in the crowds of gatherings and events, more often than not You huffed around a mouthful of wine and set the still half full glass down.

“I’m shoving off, see y’all later.”

“Oh wait, I wanted to see if we could trade patrols. Kinda why I brought out the bribe of wine.” Tommy turned wide eyes to you, knowing the whole set up of his favor was being thwarted by the arrival of his wife and brother. It was easier to ask you of things alone, not that you were known to turn them down, but you preferred to stay under the radar. Avoid direct attention, direct recognition for the things you accomplished and helped with around town. For the way you always made sure the elderly got home safe after important meetings and children who got turned around were reunited with their guardians.

“….which patrol?” You tried to hide the suspicion in your voice, positive he was about to ask you to do the overnight route with Joel in his place that would happen in a few days’ time. Something you didn’t do. Ever. Overnight routes something you didn’t have the wherewithal to handle, not since you had lost your last connection to what the world had been before. It had been relatively soon after settling into Jackson when it had happened, a handful of years ago now, but Tommy nor Maria had ever even thought to ask it of you.

You supposed they figured with Joel having settled in nicely himself the past year, that it was time to consider broaching the subject.

“Teton.” Joel supplied when Tommy choked, unable to voice his request. Knowing they would all be standing there for a few moments for the younger man to find his words between your almost fearful look and the suspicious one Maria was pinning him with as she looked from you to the wine and toward to her fumbling husband.

“Oh, um, I haven’t done that one in a long while. I don’t do the overnight routes, you know that. Surely you wanna find someone who’s done it more recently? Someone who does it regularly.”

“Think-you, uh, you’re about ready.” He managed to get out, his body no longer relaxed but picking up and responding to the way you had tensed up. The way his brother had. Feeding off of each other’s energy in a way he couldn’t begin to understand, but wanting to assure you that he had confidence in your skills and knowledge. Despite the things that had occurred for you to only stick to the same routine of early morning patrols a week.

“Tommy…” You didn’t feel particularly comfortable being asked in front of Joel. You don’t think he knew, had any idea of how had lost yourself. Rumors ran rampant around the settlement, but you hoped that those surrounding you had dwindled down to nothing but recent events. You knew for a fact Marsha liked to say you put too much sugar in your pie fillings, trying to hook everyone onto them with a heavy hand. But it wasn’t your fault that her pies always got looked over when yours was set right beside hers.  

“I know you have your reservations, Olive. And I understand,” Tommy watched the stilted way you downed the rest of your wine, setting the empty glass atop the counter with careful movements. “But it would mean a lot to me if you covered this one time.”

With a sigh, you agreed.

Ignoring the weight of Joel’s curious eyes as they followed you out of the kitchen.

Thoughts a whirlwind as you tried to flee the seen without it being obvious that you wanted to be anywhere but in that kitchen with two pairs of apologetic, concerned eyes and one that held curiosity.

next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld

[pha55ed]

Fine Line | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: fluff tw/cw :: none contains :: kimi, pepe, ollie request :: hiii could you pls do ─ ⟡ fine line by harry styles : getting to know the true him (h/c) with ollie and pepe? ❤️ (yesss ofc! im so happy for all the pepe request lol he mighttt be my new second fav f2 driver, first is always gonna be paul) link to the kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

PDA is a big no-no for Kimi. The most he's willing to do is hold your hand in public, maybe a small kiss on the cheek. But for the most part, he doesn't want others to watch him kiss you or put his hands on you. He always felt it was weird to let others see that part of his relationship. He especially hated when he saw couples did too much PDA, so he didn't want to make others uncomfortable either.

But once you two are alone, it's as if he's glued onto you. You will never get a moment alone once you're at his apartment. Constantly he's around you and touching you in some way. Like a magnet of some kind.

Like when you brush your teeth, he uses his free hand to hold your waist while he uses the other hand to brush his own teeth. While you're scrolling mindless on TikTok in bed, he'll shove his face into your shoulder so he can see the TikTok's too. If you're in a Zoom meeting and unable to allow Kimi to touch you, don't worry - he's laying on the floor and holding onto your foot...

He's unable to get his hands off you in some way. It's funny since it's so obvious his love language is touch, and yet he refuses to do it for 80% of the day but once you're home, he does a complete 180. But you love it, you love having him come up to you randomly and press a kiss on your cheek or having him rest his head on your lap whilst you watch TV.

Ollie Bearman | 87

The usual way people see Ollie is that he's a sweet innocent guy, a gentlemen who wouldn't dare to hurt a fly. But as you two began to get comfortable as your relationship, you saw a side of him that people would rarely ever see.

That side being: his mean older sibling side. The side of him that destroys his little brother in Mario Kart and laughs in his face. The side of him that messes up his little sister hair and then takes photos of her from atrocious angles. Even worse: the side that accidentally dares his little brother to do something stupid, only for him to get hurt and begin to cry - making Ollie have to shush him with the promises of a free meal.

It was funny seeing it. To everyone else, he's the upmost respectful since he's the youngest in most areas, especially since he's joining Formula 1 soon. It's almost as if he's been holding back all of his sass and rudeness till he gets home to annoy the shit out of his family.

Although it's funny to see him annoy them, what's not funny is how he starts to do the same thing to you... He also annoys the shit out of you, driving you insane.

He ruffles your hair, despite just brushing it to go to bed. He takes your phone and waves it above your head, teasing you for your short height. He taps the sides of your big headphones, causing you to wince at the loud sound of the taps. Overall: you want to kill him.

But at the same time, you find it endearing to see how annoying he can be. It's nice to see him be a little shit-head with you, and then the sweetest boy possible in the public.

Pepe Marti | 21

Although Pepe is a boy, he never really showed it. Instead, he acted more as a man, taking responsibility for lots of things, taking charge to educate himself on different topics, and always training to make himself stronger. Not only that, he's one of the very few boys on the F2 Grid who actually finished high school. You loved that about him, he's always been a bit more level headed than his peers in certain situations.

But with you, for some reason it's as if his brain shuts down. As if the entire brain goes from wrinkly and healthy to smooth and rotten. He asks you the stupidest questions that you didn't even know were possible.

For example, when you both were watching a new show together. The character was Asian and yet she had a thick Scottish accent, which shocked and confused Pepe, he couldn't wrap his head around it. So he asked, "I thought she was Asian..." He failed to remember you can be a different ethnicity and nationality....

Or when you were both cooking some pancakes together. You poured the batter into the pan, some of it accidentally getting on the spatula. Pepe decided to take action himself, since he was pretty useless in the kitchen, he grabbed the spatula and put it in the sink and touched the metal head of the spatula... Burning his fingers slightly from the heat...

Despite his goofy mistakes, mostly ending in him seeming like an idiot, you loved it. It was a sign of his comfortableness with you. He fully trusted you to not judge him and help him with his stupid questions, which you always did.

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2

Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 

It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 

If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 

“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 

Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”

“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”

That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”

“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”

It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 

Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 

Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 

Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 

“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”

There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 

“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”

Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”

“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 

But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”

“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”

Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”

Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 

“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 

Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 

There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 

Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 

Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”

“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”

“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”

Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”

Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 

He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.

part 4

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs,

[janeyseymour]

Hey if you're up for a prompt I just thought of this Melissa x reader idea. Reader is a teacher at Abbott and all the teachers and the camera crew think the reader is not good when on camera ie. Smart Reader drops down to all of 1 brain cell like a deer in headlights when facing the lense, but it turns out everytime they've been filmed, either interviewed, or knowing they're shooting B-roll, Melissa has been around and Melissa has started getting suspicious of the situation. Love your work, now I'm off to read more of your writing 😘

hi i know this is so late, but... better late than never? I had a LOT of fun with this one- thank you for requesting!

Camera Shy

WC: ~4.2k (exactly!)

You aren’t an idiot. You’d like to make that very, very clear. You have your degree to teach, you have one masters, and you’re in the process of getting another masters. After this degree, you plan to get your doctorate. You have a few years of teaching under your belt at one of the neighboring districts. So, no. You aren’t an idiot. You’re actually quite the opposite.

But put you in front of the camera, and all of the intelligence in that pretty little head of yours? It’s gone. You’re reduced to all of about half of a braincell. You blush profusely, you stumble over your words, you genuinely just feel so awkward.

At least when you know there’s a camera on you. As everyone has seen from the documentary, as long as they are capturing you from a distance and you don’t explicitly know they’re filming you, you’re good. They’ve actually (with your consent) placed a few cameras around your room that are hidden or disguised so they can get more of you just doing what you know how to do. You’re in the comfort of your own classroom with your kids, and no one else is there. They’ve even managed to snag a couple of clips of you talking to your coworkers when they pop their heads into your room, specifically Janine. She tends to come in quite a bit to chat with you when she has a chance.

What people don’t realize from viewing the documentary is that all of your talking heads are done after the ‘scenes’ are shot, and they just gather you all into the hall or a classroom and call you one at a time to do different talking heads about the different situations you teachers have gotten yourselves into this week.

So when you’re doing your interviews, people are watching you from behind the cameramen. That means all of your colleagues are watching you- specifically that redheaded second grade teacher that you are undeniably attracted to. Your eyes flit to her figure constantly during your interviews or during b-roll shoots where they’re just getting shots of you all talking in the lunch room or before a meeting that Ava had organized in the library or gymnasium.

And you’ve caught her watching you too- acting like a deer in the headlights when the lens is on you. She probably thinks you’re an absolute fool. A young teacher who is just trying to get her foot in the door before heading off to another, better district. The only person who really knows of your brains at this school is Ava because she hired you.

The camera crew has come to realize that you don’t handle yourself very well in front of the camera as well.

“Do you want to keep participating in our documentary?” Rich, the head cameraman, asks you one day.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I think it’s really important that people see how teaching can change lives, and that every teacher has a different approach to teaching.”

“Okay, we just want to make sure that you’re still willing to do this for us,” he tells you gently. “If you want out and would rather just be in the background shots, here’s your out.”

“Oh. I don’t mind… most of the people I mingle with here participate, so I guess it makes sense that I would too. Why?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about yourself or not,” Rich chuckles. “But you’re terrible in front of the camera. You get all nervous and jittery whenever you know the guys are filming you.”

You turn red. “Yeah. I do. But I didn’t go into this profession to be on camera,” you joke. You can’t confess to him that the only reason you’re terrible in front of the camera is because Melissa is usually lingering around somewhere in sight, and you get distracted and flustered.

“But you know there are cameras in your room with the purpose of capturing you teaching your students or capturing the conversations you have with your coworkers,” Rich reminds you.

“Yeah, but I sometimes forget that they’re… if you guys want to come into my room and film, that’s fine with me,” you tell the head of the documentary. “I’ll be fine.”

And you are fine. Because when they’re filming in your room, Melissa Schemmenti isn’t around you.

But still, when you have to shoot B-roll or do your interviews, you are reduced to stuttering out phrases, half of them don’t even make sense. You’re as red as the second grade teacher’s hair, and you can’t help yourself.

After a bit of time, the shoots from within your classroom where they are panning back and forth and the crew is clearly in the room starts to air. And shockingly to your colleagues, you’re able to conduct lessons with the camera crew in your room.

You’re even able to have conversations in your classroom with your colleagues when Rich and his crew are in your classroom.

But still, during your talking heads and any B-roll with the entire staff present and watching, you are a flustered mess who can’t get a single sentence out without stumbling over your words.

After a bit, Rich comes back up to you.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“What can I do for you?”

“Care to do an interview?”

“About?”

“You,” he laughs. “In your room during your prep. We’ve been getting feedback from viewers that they feel they don’t really know much about you other than you get flustered in front of the camera during talking heads.”

“Oh,” you laugh. “Sure, I can do that.”

“My background?” you ask the cameraman that is sitting with you at your desk as you grade papers. “Sure. I grew up in the area, went to Temple, staying true to my Philly roots. Got my bachelors there, graduated top of my class. Headed to West Chester University to get my masters in reading, and I’m currently working on my masters for applied studies in teaching. After that, who knows. Maybe I’ll get a doctorate?”

The person behind the camera raises a brow.

“I know I can come off as a ditz and a bit air headed, but I do actually have the qualifications to be here,” you chuckle. “And I do love it here at Abbott. I think this place could be my home for quite some time.”

That bit airs about a week later, and the next day, your coworkers stare at you as you enter the faculty room the next morning to put your lunch away.

“Yeah?” you ask as you open the refrigerator door.

“When were you gonna tell us you were that smart?” Melissa asks you. “Smart women are hot.”

Immediately, upon hearing her deep morning voice directed at you, and her calling you hot for your brains (something rarely anyone said), you turn beet red.

“Uh,” you stutter out. 

“Sweetheart,” Barbara cuts in. “Forgive us, but most of us thought you were about as ditzy as Janine.”

The woman in question whines a, “Hey!” out, but everybody else besides Gregory nods in agreement. 

“It just-“ you glance over at the redhead who is staring at you. “I-it just never came up.”

It’s later that day that you have recess duty while the rest of the teachers are eating in the staff room together. Somehow, you become the topic of choice again.

“It’s just weird,” Jacob notes.

“Maybe she’s just getting more comfortable in front of the camera,” Gregory states. “I know most of us have had some adjustments to get more comfortable with the cameras and the cameramen.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Melissa sighs. “I dunno. It seems like it’s just during B-roll or interviews though now.”

“Well, we’re all there and watching when we have to do those things,” Janine notes. “But I don’t know why that would make her uncomfortable. She talks to most of us just fine individually.”

Melissa frowns. They all talk to you individually? She’s kept her distance for the most part, and any time that she talks to you, you’re reduced to fumbling for your words. Is it her?

The redheaded second grade teacher decides to toy with this thought for the next few days. She’ll make it known that she’s around for your interviews, she’ll make it very clear that she’s going to be somewhere else during your talking heads… and she’ll move around during the b-roll shoots, even if it means that she’s away from Barbara. 

“Listen up, slackers,” Ava starts a meeting before the crew pulls you individually. “We’re doing our talking heads, and they’ve been a real drag lately. Liven them up!”

“We’re doing our best, Ava,” Janine jumps in.

“Talk about more! Create more of a storyline!”

Today’s talking head interviews just so happen to be about the scene from where they were interrogating you for having quite a few credentials.

“Y/N?” Janine smiles. “Oh yeah, she’s pretty smart- I just didn’t realize she was… that smart, and I went to Penn. We’re pretty much on the same level. She’s a little quieter than the rest of us, but she fits in well.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N?” Barbara asks. “Sweet girl. Shy. But I didn’t have the slightest clue she was as bright as she is.”

“Me?” you raise a brow as Rich calls your name to take you to the hall. You nod, stand and head along with him. Melissa follows, making it very apparent that she’s watching you. You turn the brightest shade of red that you ever have.

“So, tell us what you thought about the staff asking you about your credentials,” Rich tells you. Your eyes flit to the redhead behind him, and her eyes narrow slightly as she folds her arms across her chest.

“I- uh, didn’t-“ you swallow harshly. “I didn’t think it was that big of- of a deal? I- I know how to- how to teach.”

“How did you feel about Barbara’s comment about you being ditzy?”

“I-it didn’t bother me,” you shrug. “I’m aware I-I can c-come off like that.”

It’s clear they aren’t going to get much more out of you, so he allows you to go, and you can feel your ears burning as you have to brush past Melissa to get back to the library.

“Schemmenti?” they call her name. “Since you’re here, you wanna?”

You thank God you don’t have to walk back with her. That would just be beyond awkward for you, and you’re not sure you would be able to conduct yourself properly.

Melissa leans up against the wall to do her talking head.

“So, tell us what you think of Y/N,” Rich prompts.

“What do I think of her? She’s cute, sweet when she actually talks- insanely shy. I think she’s a good teacher,” Melissa tells the crew. “I think she’s a bit of a ditz sometimes, but if her degrees say anything, she’s bright. I just don’t quite understand why she gets so flustered during B-roll or talking heads.”

“Interesting,” one of the other crew members hums. “Say more.”

“I mean, youse heard what we were talking about during lunch while she was doing recess duty,” the redhead shrugs. “She’s fine with the staff individually, she can handle you guys in her classroom now… but then whenever we’re all together, she sounds like a mor- please don’t air this. I don’ wanna hurt the kid’s feelings.”

“We won’t,” Rich assures Melissa. “It’s more just for our background knowledge so that maybe we can get some other footage.”

The next day’s talking heads are the same. The second grade teacher makes it very known that she will be watching your interview, and you can’t get anything out. Your eyes are wide, and you look like you just saw a ghost.

The camera crew sees the way that your eyes flit to Melissa, and one of them silently signals for a smaller camera to pan over to the woman watching you. She makes eye contact with one of them before raising an eyebrow. Interesting.

“Y/N?” Mr. Johnson is called for his talking head, but they take him to his mop closet. “Sweet, smart girl. Always tidies up her room before leaving… Oh, and something’s going on between her and Melissa.”

The man behind the camera gives him a curious look. “Can you tell us more about that? We won’t air it, but maybe it can lead us to something… new.”

” Can’t tell if she’s terrified of her, thinks she’s hot, or both,” Mr. Johnson laughs. “I seen the way Y/N’s eyes get all big whenever Melissa walks into a room. Ears turn red. It’s funny.”

With Mr. Johnson’s insights, the crew decides to play with this a little. They don’t know that Melissa is already suspicious of it as well.

They have Melissa pulled away when it’s your turn for your talking head of the day, and you’re able to make it through that interview with no problems.

They seat her next to you during one of the B-roll shoots, and you look absolutely terrified the entire time. Your cheeks are flushed, you nervous play with your necklace, and you fidget the entire time.

Then, they have her pulled from it under the guise of having to do another interview. You’re perfectly fine. You relax almost instantly. You stop fidgeting, and you’re able to listen to everything that Ava is going on about- as much as you wish you weren’t listening to some of it. That woman really is something else.

Melissa notices the way that you tense up when she’s around and seemingly relax when she isn’t. She can’t quite explain how it makes her feel. But soon, those episodes start to air as well. And there is a stark difference between the talking heads that you did in front of her and the ones you did without her presence. 

After a few weeks of this game that the crew is playing, along with the game that Melissa is playing, it’s clear to the redhead what is happening. She’s the only one that you rarely interact with. She’s obviously the one who makes you nervous, and she needs to know why.

“Hey, hun,” Melissa comes in with one of the crew members who follows the second grade teacher rather regularly.

“H-hey,” you turn and close your laptop to turn your full attention to the redhead. Your ears turn beet red, as does your face and chest. “H-how can I help you, Miss Schemmenti?” You eye the camera warily.

“What’s goin’ on?” she asks you point blank. “Why’re you weird around me?”

“I’m- I’m not?” you raise a brow at her. “I just- I’m not great with the cameras.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it,” the redhead retorts. “You been so good in front of the camera lately. We’ve all seen it with the new episodes airing.”

You shrug. You really don’t know what you’re supposed to say.

“You don’ like me or somethin’?” she crosses her arms.

“No, M-Melissa,” you stutter out. “It isn’t like that at all.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re only weird when I’m around,” Melissa continues to dig her heels in. 

Again, you shrug.

The redhead presses her lips together in a fine line before cocking her head slightly as she makes eye contact with the camera. Then, she turns on her heel and leaves. They follow her as she leaves before cutting back to you- jaw open and confused.

They pull both of you for interviews later that day, and you don’t even know what to say.

“I- I’m not weird around her,” you say. “I rarely talk to her unless she talks to me first, and even then, I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Is there a reason for that?” one of the interviewers asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “She’s part of the crew that I usually hang with, but she’s- you’ve met her. She’s got a tough exterior, and I’m a little intimidated by her- especially with how shy I already am.”

Her talking head isn’t much different. “I don’t know why she’s so weird around me. We don’t even talk that often.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“She’s part of the crew, but I can be intimidating. I don’ wanna scare the poor thing… I actually do enjoy her presence,” the redhead says, and then her eyes unfocus, and it’s like she’s thinking of something else- you.

Later that day, they find the janitor that wanders the halls. His only comment on the situation is, “Interesting.”

The two of you dance around each other, the way that you have been. Until she starts to go out of her way to talk to you, because “Well, if we hang with the same crew, we might as well become friendly with each other.”

You still turn beet red any time she talks to you. She takes notice.

Finally, she corners you in your room during your prep one day right before school lets out for the year. She’s forgotten about the cameras that are still ‘hidden’ in your room due to the fact that they haven’t used those shots in months- you’ve gotten pretty good in front of the cameramen at this point.

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa says as she knocks on your door gently and pulls the door so that it’s only open a crack. “We gotta talk.”

Your eyes widen, you bite your lip, and you turn beet red. “Y-yeah. What’s up?”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Get all nervous around me,” she says. “I ain’t that scary, am I?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then why do you get all red whenever I’m around? Stumble over your words? I’ve noticed it for a while now, so I thought I would try to be nicer to you to show you I really ain’t all that scary, but nothin’s working.”

You scratch the back of your neck before running a hand through your hair nervously. You really don’t think you can tell her that the reason you always get so flustered around her is because you’ve always thought she was very pretty, and you’re actually falling for her now that you’ve actually gotten to know her a little better when she talks to you at lunch or during B-roll shoots.

“C’mon, hun,” she prompts you. “It’s just us. You can talk to me.”

You glance over at one of the cameras on your bookshelf before sighing. “I- I don’t really know how to say this.”

“You got it,” she encourages you.

With a deep breath, you quietly admit, “You intimidate me.”

“I gathered that much, Y/N,” the redhead rolls her eyes playfully as she unfolds her arms and sits on one of the desks near yours. “Why?”

“Be-because,” you blink a few times. “Because I think you’re really pretty.”

“Well,” she laughs. “That’s because I am.”

“And I- I’m attracted to you,” you whisper out.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she jokes with you, but then she turns serious. “Wait, what?”

“I think- I think you’re really pretty, and you’re funny, and smart, and you’re really good with the kids, and I just think that you’re a really wonderful woman behind that tough leather jacket you like to wear. I just like you, but you scare me, and I’m scared that I like you because you aren’t like anyone else that I’ve ever fallen for before,” the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your hands fly to your mouth in shock at yourself. You can’t believe you just admitted that. “Oh… Oh, God. Uh, just forget everything I just-”

You’re cut off by her lips being gently pressed to yours to shut you up. Your eyes widen for a few seconds before your brain starts back up and you kiss her back.

“You wanna know why I avoided you for so long?” she asks you once the two of you break apart for air. She’s looking at you with those glowing green eyes. You just barely nod. “When you walked in the front door on your first day, I couldn’t deny the way I felt about you. But I didn’t wanna scare you off- you’re already so timid. So I just let you be and admired from afar.”

“So… why did you start talking to me?” you ask nervously.

“Admittedly,” she chuckles softly as she tucks a hair of yours behind your ear. “The crew had something to do with that. They were constantly questioning me about you once you got more comfortable around the cameras… they realized you were only getting flustered if I was around, and I kind of noticed it too. So I took matters into my own hands,” she laughs. “I guess it paid off?”

“I’d say so,” you whisper. “Wow,” you sigh to yourself softly. “Is this… are you serious about kissing me just now?”

“I am,” she laughs as she leans in again and pecks your lips. “So… dinner at my house after we leave?”

“I think that’d be nice,” you sigh in content.

What the two of you don’t know is that Mr. Johnson just witnessed the whole thing, and before either of you could even begin to think anyone had heard anything, he’s running down the hall to tell the crew what he had just witnessed and that they have to pull the camera from your room to see it too.

—

You and Melissa, now an item but keeping it on the down low, spend most of the summer at the beach… you only find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with her the more time you spend with her. 

But as it always does, Summer goes by too quickly for either of your liking, and you find yourself back at Abbott. During the break, you kind of forgot that the cameras hidden in your room captured the sweet moment and beginning of the two of you. That is, until Rich pulls the two of you aside on your first day back. He takes the two of you into one of the meeting rooms to do a talking head- different from how they normally conduct these shoots.

“So…” he chuckles. “How was your break?” he asks the two of you during a joint-interview.

“Oh,” you turn red. “It was- it was fine.”

“Spent a lot of time at the beach,” Melissa shrugs, but she doesn’t look at you. You haven’t told the crew about your relationship.

“Uh, me too,” you say nervously, hoping it doesn’t give the two of you away.

“Did you two forget that your whole little love confession happened in front of cameras?” he asks you as he stops rolling and lowers his camera.

Your eyes widen, as do your girlfriend’s. The two of you exchange nervous looks.

“Well, we actually pulled the two of you aside to ask if it’s okay to air,” he tells the two of you. “We both know that you’re two of the more private people at Abbott, but we do think it would be great for ratings. Of course though, if you don’t want it-”

“Y-you can air it, if it’s okay with Melissa,” you say quietly. “I- I don’t mind.”

The redhead looks at you before taking your hand and squeezing it gently. “If Y/N is okay with it, I guess I am too… Can’t hide it forever, especially with loudmouth Janine around.”

—

When the first episode of the new season starts airing, the crew had decided use the first few minutes to do a recap of what had happened last school year, as well as a few things that people had missed. They show what had been aired last season, her confronting you the first time- when the cameramen were with her, where you hadn’t said anything. And then of course, it cuts to the shots from your classroom where the two of you had confessed your feelings for each other are there, and then it cuts to a talking head of Mr. Johnson.

“I knew it,” he chuckles from his mop closet. “I told y’all Y/N had the hots for Schemmenti. Hell yeah!”

The rest of the episode, both of your phones are blowing up from your coworkers in absolute disbelief. You laugh as you put both of your phones on ‘do not disturb’ before you’re curling further into Melissa’s side to watch the rest of the episode, a glass of wine in hand. Occasionally, you peck her cheek, or she dots your hairline with a gentle kiss when the show the two of you together. When the episode is over, you both retire up to her bedroom. She plugs in your phones before the two of you get ready for a good night’s sleep. Neither of you bother to respond to the plethora of texts you’ve both received. You’ll handle your ridiculous coworkers tomorrow.

[sidekick-hero]

First Love, Second Chance

(steddie | teen (for this part) | tags: exes to lovers, canon divergence (Eddie lives), future fic (set 2001) | Part 1)

Steve stood at the entrance, his hands buried deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched slightly against the winter chill still clinging to his skin. The woman at the front desk greeted him with a smile so bright it could've doubled as a flashlight. "Mr. Harrington, what a pleasure to have you. You can leave your coat with me, and Joanne over here will lead you to your table. We’ll be starting in ten minutes, but feel free to get settled and order any drink you’d like — it’s included in the entrance fee."

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sheer enthusiasm in her voice. That’s a well-practiced customer service smile, Steve thought, as he shrugged off his heavy coat. He’d bet the contents of his one-bedroom apartment downtown that she was already dreaming of the moment she could get out of here, change into something comfortable, pour a big glass of wine, and let her face relax into something more human.

Steve knew all about jobs that drained you down to the marrow. He was a kindergarten teacher, after all. The difference was, at least his work came with the occasional hug and finger painting masterpiece. Besides, he’d spent enough time hiding behind his exhaustion to know that it wasn’t just the job. Robin had been right — he was hiding. And here he was, exposed under the bright lights of some cheesy blind date event, about to sit across from a stranger and try to pretend he was open and available.

He handed his coat to the smiling woman and turned toward Joanne, who had been pointed out to him. "Hi, I’m Steve Harrington," he introduced himself, offering a smile that he hoped didn’t look as forced as he felt. "I was told you’d show me to my table."

Her eyes flicked over him, not too obvious, but not quite subtle either. It had been a while since anyone had looked at him like that. Most days, his life was a blur of finger paints, snot stains, and explaining why sharing was important. Flattering, he thought. Strange, but flattering.

Joanne’s lips curled into a friendly smile. "Of course, Mr. Harrington. Let me check my list real quick to see where we’ve put you." Her finger, perfectly manicured, scanned down a clipboard. She paused, then grinned. "Ah-ha! Found you. Follow me, and I'll take you right to your seat."

Steve followed her, his steps feeling heavier than they should. He could almost hear Robin’s voice in his head, teasing him: Just go, have fun, stop being so damn serious, Steve!

Right, Robin, he thought. Fun. As he moved through the room, he tried to shake off the creeping dread. He was here, wasn’t he? That had to count for something.

The room was a maze of small tables for two, clustered together in narrow aisles, each one its own little island in a sea of forced intimacy. Steve found his table, the one they’d assigned to him, and sank into the chair with a sigh that came from somewhere deep in his chest. Okay, step one, taken. He glanced around, noting that his blind date hadn’t arrived yet. He wondered who they’d paired him with, what kind of person would be willing to spend hours - potentially very awkward hours - with a virtual stranger.

Robin had practically shoved the registration form in his face, a little too gleeful about the whole thing. He remembered the questions — his past relationships, his hopes and dreams, what he was looking for in a partner. The usual stuff, he supposed. But then there was the unexpected question: was he looking for a man or a woman? It had caught him off guard for a moment. Progressive, he’d thought. Robin assured him the agency was very queer friendly, so he’d ticked both boxes, “men” and “women.” Why not? Life was complicated, and so was he.

He flagged down a waiter and ordered a beer, then let his eyes wander around the room as he waited. He watched the faces of the people around him, wondering if they felt as lonely and unlovable as he sometimes did. Or maybe not. Maybe that was just him, and the ghost of Eddie, still riding shotgun in his mind, his voice as dramatic as ever.

Five years together — his “formative years,” as Robin liked to call them — had left their mark. It didn’t matter that they’d been apart longer than they’d been together; time had a way of playing tricks like that. Some days, it felt like Eddie was still right there with him, leaning in close to whisper old secrets and inside jokes, making him laugh at the worst possible moments. Other days, it felt like he’d been gone a lifetime, the memories fading at the edges like an old photograph.

Steve took a sip of his beer, letting the cold liquid steady his nerves. He was doing this, trying. Maybe this one would stick.

Steve’s eyes drifted around the room, lingering on faces, searching for clues. He spotted a woman nervously tapping her fingers against her wine glass, a man adjusting his tie for the tenth time, another couple already deep in conversation, leaning in like they’d known each other for years. And then, just as he was about to turn back to his beer, he saw him.

His heart stopped. Or maybe it just skipped a beat — whatever it was, it felt like a punch to the gut. Eddie Munson.

Part 2

A few words about this: I wanted to try something new, so I'll be posting a new part here every day until it's done and then I put it on AO3. This actually started as backstory to my @steddiesmuttyseptember (follow this awesome blog for smutty goodness!) fill for make-up sex but now I'm at 5k and still no sexy times. Also, is exes to lovers make-up sex? Anyway, I'm loving the trope so I do what I want 😅

Part 2 will be up tomorrow, I promise.

[stromblessed]

Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise

In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.

Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.

I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!

Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.

In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:

I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."

Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.

I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.

This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.

There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:

When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!

By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.

It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:

(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)

If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.

Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:

Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:

No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol

So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.

And yet no one spots that she's female.

Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.

Let me explain.

She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.

But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:

I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."

Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.

Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.

One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:

Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)

And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:

Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.

Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol

There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:

After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.

So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.

May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.

Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."

[hollowingearth]

I'm sorry but the more I think about the Rebirth ending the more I love it actually like. The whole trilogy has been a meta commentary of sorts and, specially, Aerith's death is at the epicenter of it. She both dies and doesn't die exactly because us, as an audience, want both things to happen.

People have been clamoring to be able to save Aerith since 1997, there were fake hidden hacks, AU fictions, retellings, everything. Everyone has been at Squeenix's doorsteps begging them to let us save her. Like, it's at a point where the "Square will let us save Aerith if you pay for the DLC" joke is much more than a decade old.

On the other side, there's this very expressive unwant for any change whatsoever from the source material. It's not a feeling that is exclusive to FF7 either, there's this very clear pushback against any new remake/adaptation that deviates, even slightly, from it's original. People don't want new content, they want the old one they experienced when they were younger, but prettier, they want to both feel the nostalgia and experience everything as if for the first time again.

From that camp, I think the most prominent argument is that FF7 is about loss, right? And they're not wrong. Aerith's death is the crux of the story, it's the very thing that made FF7 as known as it is, there would be no actual weight to what it's trying to tell if the heroine doesn't die in the middle of it, an unexpected, hurtful, avoidable death. What's the point of a narrative about grief if you can just... avoid losing someone? Avoid having it be cruelly taken from you?

And yet, you see, if want someone to die, if you want something to be taken from you, are you really losing it? In the original, part of the impact was that no one could see it coming, it was a straight representation about how death is sudden and takes away opportunity from you. Aerith doesn't go into the sleeping forest willing to make a sacrifice for the greater good, she has barely started her adventure, she makes a promise to go on the highwind, the group is one location away from finding out more about her ancestry and her family.

That's not true for the remake, tho. Everyone knows about her fate, about what is going to happen to her. That's probably the most spoiled moment in video game history. I personally knew about her death before I truly understood what Final Fantasy even was. So now we have an audience that is extremely aware of what, when and how her death is going to happen. That's why the Confluence of Worlds is put at that moment, because it's the single most expected moment in the entire triology, it's the one moment that made the narrative resonate so well.

The impact is impossible to recreate now, even for newer fans of the series. People want a 1:1 retranslation but such a thing would always be a gimmicky shadow of it's original. It's why the focus shifts, now the most emotionally impactful scene is not the killing of her but of her goodbye, in the church after the dream date. "Thank you," Aerith echoes "It's been fun", a callback to her conclusion on Remake where she says "I'm grateful for all the words we shared. All the moments and the memories. You've made me more happy than you know."

So she dies and she doesn't, both at the same time. Effectively in limbo now, narratively explained by lifestream shenaningans. We put her there ourselves, by refusing to move on, refusing to accept her death but also refusing to change, allowing a different outcome. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, at least, Aerith's words sound like the very sincere feelings of the developers, who are grateful for all the love we all have powered into their work all these years.

I just love it so much, I could spend hours talking about it.

[youmarin]

If I Die Tomorrow I'll Love You Today | Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Pairings: Megumi Fushiguro x reader (platonic/romantic. the love interest <3), Gojo Satoru x reader (platonic), Tsumiki Fushiguro x reader (platonic), Itadori Yūji x reader (platonic), Kugisaki Nobara x reader (platonic). Lots of friendship and Gojo being a dad of 1, 2, 3…

Tags: angst, would this be considered a whump fic?, fluffy and wholesome, slowburn (?) (she fell first, he fell harder hehe), friends to lovers/childhood friends to lovers.

Summary: You inherit an ability that most people don’t, which turns your life upside down. At your lowest, a very special person lifts you up and gives you a second chance. You meet more people like you and enter their world, you fall in love and you’re willing to die to protect those who stood by your side.

Word count: 21,161 oops! (+ like +1.5k of footnotes with further details/commentary. I know. I should shut tf up.)

See the end for A/N.

masterlist

Your grandmother was the first person to notice it. That there were dangerous things lurking unseen to many. And that you could see them too. It was equally reassuring as it was scary to hear that in fact, the creatures you saw at school, that one time at the hospital when you nearly broke your arm, or even clinging to a person on the street, were real and not something your brain had made up. But you always felt safe with your grandmother. She seemed able to tell how to keep you out of harm's way. 

You felt very lonely in the world when she died. Felt that the darkness was now unavoidable. And you couldn’t shake the feeling off that maybe her death was related to it. 

Her house. You found yourself still drawn to it. It wasn’t far from your own home so when your parents couldn’t find you anywhere else, they would know that’s where you had strayed to, sitting there quietly for hours. At first they’d pinned it to grief, that you missed your grandmother, which was also true. You’d been closer to her. But your behaviour started to worry them. Always fidgety and anxious, easily scared and startled, seemingly spaced out in your own world. That worry turned to frustration, which turned to annoyance, and finally, disappointment. Then one day, they decided they had enough of it.

“Mommy?” You called out for her once you stepped through your front door, sliding your shoes off and putting them to the side. It was late, school having been over a while ago. “Daddy?” You winced, taking a step back when a stranger man emerged from the living room instead. Eyeing behind him, you saw your parents standing up from the couch next to each other. Their eyes were stern.  

You knew they didn’t understand you. They didn’t understand your grandma either. She’d told you not to mention anything to them. But even though you didn’t, they still figured out something was different with you too. It was okay if they didn’t understand. The part that hurt and that you didn’t understand was them pushing you away.

There was one thing your grandmother once told you that struck you, the thing that kept you going on during the first weeks of your confinement. Still, after losing count of how many months you’d been in the facility, it was hard. You were tired, your little body stiff and mind exhausted after another session of therapy in which you did your best to play along but ended up breaking down and trying to run away again seeking out, out, out.

Maybe you were never getting out. Maybe you really needed fixing. 

_____

You woke up, hearing the commotion coming from the hallway. Then the place grew eerily quiet again, just like always. You didn’t bother to move from your position, lying on the small cot of the room, your knees pressed to your chest. Not even when your door opened suddenly with force did you stir, just lifted your weary gaze towards it. 

The people you saw clearly didn’t work here. What they were doing in your room was beyond you. Had they given up on you here too? Would they take you somewhere else now? 

Another figure appeared in the room, so fast you were barely able to see it. The others weren’t even able to touch him. Soon enough, the other people were beaten up on the floor, the later arrival barely breaking a sweat. He dusted off his hands and turned to you. 

“Seems like I got here just in time.”  with the dull lighting in your room for the night, you could make out a smile shining on his face. His hair was all white, and it seemed so bright even in the dim space. As if things weren’t strange enough, his eyes were covered too. “Sorry about that.” 

Your lack of reactions were no good. It made him wonder if he really had gotten his timing right at all. Even though you were staring at him, your eyes seemed lost. It actually felt like you were staring past him. 

What was he doing? 

He already had enough being the guardian of the Fushiguro kids. 

“You’re a special little girl, aren’t you?”  When he uncovered his eyes, you saw they were a striking blue. They were beautiful yet somewhat intimidating. “You see things most people don’t.” 

After months of hearing the opposite and trying to get you to believe that in fact, those things weren’t real, it felt bizarre to hear it from him. Was it a test? Would they punish you if you fell for it? 

Your eyes caught movement behind him, the woman on the floor stirring. She released one of those strange creatures to attack him and you couldn’t help the scared feeling that flooded you. 

But in swift movements, he’d gotten rid of it and knocked out the woman again. 

He smiled a little wider when he saw you’d finally moved to sit, your body stiff. Though you looked a little shaken, “You saw it, didn’t you?” 

You nodded, hesitantly. 

“I see them too. And there’s more people like us. Like those two weaklings on the floor, but they’re bad.” 

“Are you real?” your innocent, unsure tone made him chuckle a bit. 

“Of course I am real. Here.” He extended a hand for you to touch. You looked at it, standing up and tentatively reaching for it. In fact, he was very real. You closed your fingers between his as if for final confirmation and you looked up to meet his eyes. “Now, let’s get out of here. What do you say?” 

One day you might find a person with whom you won’t have to hide this side of you. They might be just like you. You, my little girl, were that person for me. 

Her words resonated in your head again, and overwhelmed, you felt your eyes sting with pooling tears, letting go of the young man’s hand and throwing yourself towards him in a hug, little arms wrapped tightly around his middle.

“Woah, okay.” It caught him a little off guard but a chuckle fell from between his lips and he patted your head softly. 

He couldn’t get you to let go of him, so he’d settled on carrying you on the way out until they reached the car. 

______

“Megumi-chan!”  Megumi looked up, silently indicating that he was paying attention to his guardian. “I have someone I want you to meet.” When Gojo looked down, he followed his gaze to finally notice the little girl he was pointing at, hiding behind his legs out of shyness. “This is y/n-chan.”

Your eyes locked with the deep dark blue ones of the little boy Gojo had called Megumi, and you tilted your head curiously. 

His hair was weird. 

One of your hands let go of the fabric of Gojo’s pants and went up to your head, where your own hair was styled in two ponytails, one sitting slightly lower than the other. 

You looked up to Gojo when he spoke again, putting a hand gently on your back to get you out of your hiding place, “Go on, you can bother him all you want. He won’t mind.” 

Who’s he to tell if something bothers me or not?, Megumi thought, watching the interaction. 

“But I don’t want to bother him.” was your sweet answer. 

That made the young man laugh. “Of course you don’t. But just know you can. If he bothers you then you tell me.” 

Megumi glared at him. How was that fair? 

“You don’t have to hide. Ever. I’m just kidding. He’s a good kid just like you.” 

With a last gentle push, Gojo let you two alone in the Jujutsu High garden, after telling Megumi that he’ll come fetch him later for a little training session. 

You walk over to where he’s sitting on a blanket under the shadow of a tree, taking a seat too, just not too close. Then you take your new little backpack off your shoulders and rest it on your lap. Your fingers tighten a little around the bag. This is the first time you meet someone your age that can see curses, like Gojo told you they were called. And you could be friends.

“What?” His voice has a rough edge to it. You’re not quite expecting him to talk so you jump in your seat a little. Embarrassed by having kept staring at him, you looked down. He probably found it rude. 

He returns to what he is doing in his notebook and after a while you open your bag and reveal your also new coloring book and crayons, both settling to quietly work away. 

After a while, Megumi risks a glance at you again. He thinks your ponytails look a little funny. And upon further inspection he notices you’re wearing boy's clothes that look all too familiar. The way you were looking at him earlier with bright, big curious eyes is gone and you look sad now. When he looks down at the page you’re coloring, he sees it’s the picture of a dog. He wonders what made you pick the color red for it. Megumi thinks you’re about to cry when the crayon slips from your grip a little and you end up  accidentally coloring out of the lines.

You hear him mutter something and see he’s frowning. You’re really about to cry now because you think he’s annoyed that you’re there when suddenly there’s a big ball of white fur in front of you (it’s really not that big yet, just bigger than you). You gasp in surprise and delight. 

You look at Megumi again now, and he reaches to pet the dog. You take his gesture as an okay and smile at him. His little face feels warm but you’re too happily entertained with Shiro to notice it. 

After that, you play with Shiro for a while before Megumi releases it, you share your coloring book and the snacks Gojo put on your backpack. When Gojo comes back to pick both of you up, he finds you both had fallen asleep. You’re facing each other, one your tiny hands had somehow tangled in Megumi’s unruly hair and the other under one of his.

Soon enough, you were starting training too. 

Megumi watched sitting close by when Gojo told him it was break time. He’d called you over. 

Gojo explained to you several different moves you could make with the aid of a dummy and you watched attentively, trying to copy them as accurately as you could. 

“Hit it as hard as you can.” 

He watched you grow tired after some time, small face flush and sweaty. 

The young man grinned.

“Okay, why don’t you try to land a hit on me before we wrap it up?” 

“You can’t do it. He’s lying.” Megumi frowned, guessing the man’s intentions.  

He’d already fallen for it. 

“Oh c’mon, you’re no fun, Megumi.” Yet, his argument had been vague. You wouldn’t get what the little boy meant, “And why are you telling her what she can and can’t do?” 

“That’s not what I mean.” His frown grew deeper while he shook his head vigorously. 

“C’mon y/n.” He encouraged, seeing you hesitantly looking between Megumi and him.

“But I don’t want to hurt you.” You said, settling to looking down at your fidgety fingers. You looked really upset about it.

Gojo’s eyes widened behind his glasses and he stalled for a moment, your words warming his heart but playing it down by clearing his throat. “It’s alright, darling. You won’t hurt me.” He meant it. He risked a glance at the now pretty beaten up dummy you’d been practicing with. You were a little violent though, he worried. Then he caught himself. You really couldn’t hurt him.

“Really?” 

“Really.” He said reassuringly. “Now give me your best shot.” 

“Okay.” you said, still a little hesitant but going for it. 

And Megumi couldn’t help but watch as another person fell victim to Gojo’s little amusement. The man did feel a tiny bit bad, but it was too fun to resist it. 

You totally crashed and fell back on your bum. You didn’t crash with Gojo though. It felt like hitting a very clean glass door. 

You brought a hand up to your forehead, looking so dumbfounded while Gojo stood there laughing until he was in tears. 

“I tried to warn you.” Megumi walked over, extending his hand to touch the invisible barrier you’d hit. “It’s his technique. You can’t touch him unless he turns it off and lets you.” 

Your little self felt very betrayed, and both Gojo and Megumi picked up on it. “That was mean!” You said, standing up to try again only for your little fist to hit nothing. 

“I’m sorry!” Gojo managed between laughs.

“No you’re not!” Now Megumi joined forces with you. But it was no use, neither of you would land a hit.

You stopped, huffing and puffing, and that’s when Gojo took his chance to swiftly pick you up, “Gotcha!” making you squeal and giggle as he tickled you. Before Megumi could get away, he was being picked up too, squirming to get down but failing, instead landing on the man’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. When he stopped resisting, he shifted to look at you, cheering as Gojo offered to get you ice cream as an apology. 

Your cursed technique then started to manifest itself. The most evident thing was that now when you looked at everyone, all your eyes would focus on was in this weird light flowing all over their bodies, twinkling brighter varying the person or how they seemed to feel. When you stared at Gojo, for example, it was almost blinding. 

And you felt exhausted. You wanted to say something about it but you couldn’t find the way to explain yourself. 

You were heading over to see Megumi and Tsumiki. Apparently, Megumi was sick. Nothing serious, just a common cold. 

“You okay over there?” Gojo asked, looking at you from the rear view mirror, you sitting on the back. He’d noticed your squinting for a while now. You avoided looking at him, choosing to look out the window as you nodded. “Is the sun bothering you? Here.” He handed you a strip of dark cloth, like the ones he used to tie over his eyes. He would give you his glasses but they were too big for you. He noted to buy you some. He chuckled as you put it over your eyes. “You look just like me now.” 

That made you laugh too. “I can’t see anything now.” But it brought you comfort, giving your straining eyes some rest. 

When you pulled over to a stop outside the apartment building, you forgot for a moment all about your own and got out of the car excited to see both of the Fushiguro kids. 

You hugged Tsumiki first before heading over towards Megumi. He’d been sleeping in his room until recently. You practically jumped over him. 

“I missed you!” you hugged him. “Are you okay?” 

Overall, he was. It only sounded like it wasn’t every time he coughed and Gojo worried his lungs would come out. He’d had a fever but it was better now, so he made Megumi take a nasty cough syrup after having dinner, considering that going to the hospital wasn’t necessary. 

“Get away from Megumi, y/n. You might get his germs.” Gojo joked. 

“Ew!” You giggled, watching Megumi’s sour face, the medicine taste in his mouth. Then you had an idea. “Oh, I know how you’d get better sooner, Megumi!” Your eyes shined. Forgetting all about the gross stuff Gojo said, you leaned over with your hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Now!” 

Megumi’s little round cheeks colored. “Um, thank you.” 

 He stared at you and also noticed your sort of unfocused stare. You were looking at him but at the same time it seemed like you weren’t. “Are you okay?” 

“Mhmm!” You nodded, still sitting on your knees in front of him on the bed. 

You settled in a comfortable silence. Megumi stared at you with tired eyes, as your own tired ones fixated on whatever you’d been staring at for a while. “You’re shining, Megumi.” you revealed, words a little slurred with what he figured was sleep. He chuckled at your odd comment.

When you place a hand over his arm, following the flow of light you saw, he feels something strange. It’s associated with you, it feels like you. For a moment he swears he sees something shining white from where your skin touches and thinks he might be getting a fever back and he’s hallucinating. But in a blink, it’s gone and he discarded calling for Gojo. 

Satoru doesn’t know when he dozed off on the couch. But it’s still too early in the morning when he’s startled awake by Megumi calling for him, his voice alarmed.

You had picked up Megumi’s cold. Since you were already exhausted it had gotten worse. You were shivering, hair sticking to your burning forehead with sweat and your cheeks red with a fever too high. Megumi’s terrified by your side, and Gojo’s not doing much better. When he gathers his bearings enough, he picks you up, your small body slumping against his and he’s rushing out of the room. There’s no time to argue with the other two for them to stay behind so they all get in the car and rush to the hospital. 

“She got sick because of me.” Megumi mumbles to him, eyes downcast. They’re sitting on the chairs outside your hospital room. Tsumiki’s sitting by his other side, fast asleep with her body leaning against his after he got her to calm down. 

“Don’t say it like it’s your fault. You couldn’t possibly know she’ll get like this.”

Maybe that kiss was a little too effective, Megumi thinks. He’s feeling much better now. But he’d rather you not giving it to him if it’d made you sick. “I think she has been feeling bad since last night.” 

“What makes you think so?” Gojo asks him. 

“She said something weird. That I was shining. And she sounded tired.” 

“Shining?” 

When the doctors got your fever under control and later in the day you woke up, they were all in your room. You’re a little scared until you see them come in. 

Gojo stares at you while you talk with the kids, studying you closer. He still sees you squinting from time to time, especially when you turn to look at him.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, little miss?” He finally speaks up. There’s a worried look on your face and you open your mouth, then close it. You shake your head. “Are you sure?” 

“I-I don’t know.” You settle with.

“You don’t know?” He quirks a brow. 

Tentatively, you reach for him, he’s sitting by your bedside. You blink a couple times, trying to get used to the “light”, your little finger tracing up his arm. “It’s too bright.” 

It clicks now. Gojo beats himself for not noticing it sooner. You’d been struggling with your technique this whole time. He sighs, expression softening.

“It’s okay. We’ll handle it.” He moves to sit beside you on the bed, then places his hands over your eyes. 

“What are you doing?”  Megumi asks, eyeing the man strangely. You chuckle, also wondering what Satoru’s doing. 

“Doesn’t it feel better?” 

You nod. 

“It was my bad, okay?” Gojo says, looking at Megumi. 

__________

School had been hard to adjust to, being at a new place and a little behind the others, adding all the new things you knew now. But it was okay. Just. Lonely. You didn’t call attention on yourself and spent most of your free time alone. You wondered how Megumi did in school. You only saw him on weekends when Gojo brought him to Jujutsu High for training or on other occasions when Gojo dropped at his place with you tagging along to check up on him and his sister. 

“Say, Megumi-chan,” Gojo started one evening while he finished folding his laundry. He wasn’t expecting the man to drop by today. “What would you say if y/n-chan started middle school in the same school as you guys the upcoming year?” At the mention of your name, Megumi perked up. Gojo knew he got along well with you and thought both you and the boy would do each other good company. 

He shrugged, seemingly uninterested, but it wasn’t an unpleasant idea. Quite the opposite. “I don’t mind. But you should ask her first.” 

“You think I wouldn’t ask her first?” 

He really has to ask when he does whatever he wants all the time?

Megumi raised a brow at him but Gojo continued as if he hadn’t said anything in the first place. 

“Great! So it’s settled. I’ll tell her to come.” 

“Tell her to…?-” The words died in his mouth as he followed Gojo into the hall and he opened the front door. 

Next thing he knew, you were crashing into him in a tight hug almost throwing you both onto the floor, saying his name in a cheery voice. Throughout the years, you’d grown more comfortable around those closer to you, which included him of course, a side only a few privileged could see. Megumi couldn’t deny that some of Gojo’s exuberant ways (to put it lightly) had rubbed off on you, thankfully not on the same level. He liked this side of you, even though he pretended not to as he pushed you off him (putting nearly no resistance, really) while he chuckled. More open and cheerful, probably more close to how you were supposed to be if what happened to you in the past before he met you hadn’t taken place at all. He still didn’t know much about it. You never mentioned it and he never asked. He thought about asking Gojo someday. 

Right now, he stares at your eyes shining with joy as you stare back at his deep blue ones and lets himself give you a soft smile. He hopes it doesn’t show on his face how warm his cheeks feel.

Life seemed more exciting then. Although you had Gojo around every other day when he wasn’t working, apart from him you were mostly on your own. Now you’d moved in with Megumi and Tsumiki and would go to school together. 

You’d see another side of Megumi you’d been wondering about for a while, how he was in the school environment. It wasn’t much different. You knew he was responsible with his assignments and lessons. When you visited him before, he’d be finishing doing them or reviewing, or he’d completely done them already. Very much like you in that matter; you tended to do schoolwork during free periods or lunch period so you didn’t have to bring it back home with you. You also expected him more to be on his own most of the time, and you weren’t wrong either. And even though you knew it would be like that, you didn’t think it would put a damper on the dynamic of your friendship. 

Somehow, you came up with the idea that he wouldn’t like to be seen around with you.  

And Megumi didn’t understand it. You seemed so excited to be attending school with him, but once you reached the school gates in the morning you’d go your own way and barely see each other for the rest of the day. That was, of course, until he’d end up in the principal’s office after beating up a guy for bothering another third guy that ended out of the skirmish after muttering a shuddering ‘thank you’ and scurrying away. You’ll head out of your classroom and meet with Tsumiki to see if he was okay. 

What surprised you the most was that. The fights. Somehow you’d never witnessed one. It’s not like you wanted to (maybe him neither and had been doing a great job at keeping you from doing so).

He’d managed to put in line every bully of the school or well, mostly all of them. Apparently, some were dumb enough to start picking on you. You seemed like the perfect target. Quiet, reserved, seemed to have a permanent look of worry etched on your face. There was no way you would tell on them. 

It had started subtle enough to not cause immediate worry, but they’d noticed the little details. Like how during dinner you sometimes seemed hungrier than usual. Which wasn’t bad, you were a growing girl after all, and they liked that you ate well. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d had to skip lunch because some jerk took your money. 

Or when at some point it took you longer to finish with your assignments. Sure, you were middle schoolers and the lessons’ topics grew more complex by year but it usually never took you so long as to keep you closed up in your room for so much time. It was because they made you do their homework. 

At last, Megumi became wary one day when school was done and it was time to go home, but you never came out to meet them at the entrance. You’d skipped afternoon classes and ran home. Just before lunch period, someone had stuck a piece of chewing gum in your hair. When Megumi and Tsumiki got home, they’d froze upon seeing how your once long hair now reached just below your shoulders. Tsumiki had instantly lost it, asking what had made you do that to your beautiful hair but you just brushed her off with a smile that didn’t really reach your eyes. Megumi frowned at the scene.

Suspecting you wouldn’t tell if he asked you directly, he decided to wait a little longer for the cause of your behaviour to reveal itself.

It finally happened one day during free period, when one of your bullies noticed something that piqued their eye. It was a silly keychain Gojo had given you the last time you all went out together the previous weekend. When they asked to have it and you said no, things took a more physical turn.

“Did you say no?” they asked, as if they’d misheard you.

“I won’t give it to you.” You said firmly.

“Is that so? Then I’ll just have to take it.” 

Megumi had just stepped outside of his own classroom to walk over to the vending machines, when he’d spotted the three, two girls and a boy, and you, speaking near his destination. His expression softened without him picking on it. He’d never see you talk to anyone so it was nice to see you make friends. So was he thinking until he noticed how uncomfortable you really looked and he started to hurry over. He was just a tad bit late as they shoved you harshly and you stumbled back to the ground. 

“Give it back!” You’d hurried to stand back up and get your things back from the boy, the one that had pushed you and thrown your bag to the ground, having gotten what he wanted. He shoved you again, you hitting the wall and Megumi swore he was seeing red. 

How long had this been happening? 

When the two girls met Megumi’s death stare they froze in place. He grabbed the boy’s shoulder and spun him around before sending a punch square to his face.

“If you dare to touch her again I will break all of your fingers.” He threw another punch but didn’t connect, the boy moving and managing to land a punch around Megumi’s chin. 

Okay, now you were really angry. 

“Don’t touch him!” As Megumi stumbled slightly, you stood up and stepped in, taking the matter into your own hands (better late than never), throwing yourself at the boy to punch him.

Gojo wasn’t surprised to receive a call from the school every other day to hear about how Megumi had gotten into a fight again, but this time it did when he heard you’d been part of it. 

“Why didn’t you say anything? Hell, why didn’t you do anything sooner!” Back home after the incident, Gojo couldn’t barely get a word in as Megumi kept doing all the reprimanding. The boy would ask you something, but he didn’t even let you talk either.

“I didn’t want to worry anyone!” You managed to cut him off. 

“Do I seem less worried now?!” 

“Megumi, stop shouting!” Tsumiki chimed in. 

He took a deep breath. He really wasn’t one to shout but the whole ordeal had really gotten to his nerves. “I need out.” He parted from the living room and out the front door, closing it with a loud bang. 

You stood in your place on the couch, looking at your hands on your lap. 

“Megumi’s right in something.” Gojo finally was able to speak, “You could’ve said something. Or dealt with it. Megumi would’ve gladly punched the lights out of him for you, but you did it just fine yourself!” He wasn’t happy that such a thing had been happening for such a long time, but he did sound proud about you beating up the boy. “I thought you’d made me a promise.” 

You looked up at him with wide eyes. Gojo was staring right back at you. He was talking about the promise you made the day he took you in. 

“You’ll be safe here and will have everything you need.” Gojo had told you when you arrived at what would be your new home. “I’ll need you to do just a little thing for me, okay?”

You’d turn your attention away from the room to look back at him, still perched on his arms. Your tiny hands let go of his shoulders to pull up his blindfold and look him in the eyes. “What is it?” you tilted your head curiously. 

“I need you to be brave and strong.” 

“Like you?” 

The young man nodded. “Like me, or more if you can. Think you can do that for me?” 

Seeing the unsure look on your face, Gojo had to bite back a laugh. “I don't expect you to be able to be so by tomorrow morning. Little by little every day. Yeah?”

At his explanation, you nodded, raising your pinky. “Promise.”

“Promise.”

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and you had to bite on it and focus on the sting to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m sorry.” You said when you felt you were in the clear to speak again.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Gojo brushed you off. 

Gojo knew you weren’t a fan of confrontation when it came to only yourself. But when others were involved, that’s when you would step up. That’s why when you’ve accounted for the events of the day he immediately understood what made you finally take action. He just wanted you to learn to stand up for yourself. 

“Megumi’s been out for a while…” Tsumiki trailed off, a worried edge to her tone. 

“I’ll go look for him.” Gojo stood up and followed the way out.

When they were back, the boy went straight to his room. You went right after him, the small first aid kit you’d retrieved from the bathroom in your hands. 

He stared at you when you opened the door and stepped in, but looked away once you sat down next to him at the foot of his bed. He didn’t resist it when you brought a hand up to his face to tilt it in your direction. Still, his gaze was downcast and his expression serious.

“You’re still upset?” 

“What made you think so?” He answered, tone flat. He winced once you brought up a cotton ball to clean the cut on his lip. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Just stings a little.”  Normally, the bullies never stood a chance and Megumi would end unscathed besides the cuts in his knuckles.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” 

You stayed quiet as you finished up. Looking down at your arm, he brought a hand up gently brushing over the bruise forming there from when you hit the wall. He frowned but held back from ranting again. He said something else instead.

“You did get him good though.” 

A small smile started to break on your face at his comment. “I’m sure I could beat you too now.” you teased. 

“Say that again on Saturday.” there was a hint of a smile on his face then too, his hand coming up to brush over a strand of your hair. 

After the issue with those jerks was over, Megumi was rarely seen alone again at school, and so were you. Now you two were inseparable, always seen together outside of the classrooms. Like at that moment, you talking his ear off walking down the school hallways while he listened contentedly to your ramble. And now really no one was dumb enough to bother you again. 

______

Just having begun your last year of middle school, an event happened that shook your lives again. 

Tsumiki fell into a coma, under the effect of some curse.

Nobody had any answers as to how it happened, no trace, no clues. Just one day, she wouldn’t wake up. 

Megumi couldn’t explain it. She was just fine the days before. If he thought too much about it it’d send him spiraling, until he couldn’t think of anything else. He’d go around asking questions and returning home late. At first, you’d decided to give him space but were sure to let him know you were there for him given he needed anything. It got really bad for a while afterwards, shutting you and everyone off every time you offered him help, not letting anyone join him when he visited her. On the worst days, he’ll skip class, or return home to just lock himself in his room. You wouldn’t see him for hours.

“You’re home.” you brightened up one evening. He’d come back relatively earlier than other days. “You’re hungry? Let me heat up your food again.” 

He silently took off his shoes, then disappeared through the hallway. He came back after dropping his bag in his room and changing into more comfortable clothes. Wordlessly, he ate dinner. But it was something. You were fine with it. That was until he put the dishes away and headed out towards his room again.

Before you even caught up to what you were doing, you were following him, hurried footsteps thudding against the floor. You heard the lock clicking in place. You knocked the door, with a little more force than necessary. 

“Megumi? Megumi, could you please open the door?” 

No response. He’d just closed the door, you knew he could hear you. 

“You can’t keep doing this, Megumi.” 

“Is this how things are going to be now?” your voice ultimately broke. “What am I even doing here if I can’t help you?” 

“I miss her too. And no, I won’t say I get it because I’m sure I don’t feel remotely the same way you do.” 

“But I miss you too.” You couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. 

He lay there on his bed facing away from the door while he heard your soft cries right on the other side. At some point you had given up on him opening the door because he couldn’t hear you anymore. It was better for you that way. 

He didn’t notice when he’d drifted off to sleep, but when he woke up it was past midnight. His mouth was dry, so he stood up to go get some water, his body aching from the curled up position he’d fallen asleep into. Then he noticed a light outside was still on, just a fine line visible from under his door. You were still up? 

Warily, he approached it and turned the knob. He felt a slight pressure on it as he swung it open slowly. And there you were sitting on the floor in front of his door. You weren’t awake though. 

Megumi hastily called your name and crouched down to get a hold of you before you fell over and could hurt yourself. He brought a hand up to your face, harmonious except for the red under your eyes, the streaks of dry tears on your cheeks, your lashes still moist.

He called your name again when you wouldn’t wake up. He could feel himself begin to tremble around you, one arm around your middle holding you in your sitting position while his other hand sustained your head up tilted in his direction.

Finally beginning to open your eyes after he called your name for the third time, he exhaled in relief. “Megumi? What? What is it?” you sat up almost instantly, sleep draining out at the sight of tears falling from his eyes, your hands finding his face to wipe them away.

A hiccup in his voice kept him from talking right away, “I’m sorry.” His arms wrapped around you and hugged you tightly to him. You didn’t miss a beat to do the same. “I’m right here.” 

“Yes, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here with you.” It was hard for the words to come out over the lump in your throat.

You were both a crumpled mess on the ground, holding on to each other while tears kept falling. But this was better. It was better to be broken together.

Come another day, you went to visit Tsumiki together. You insisted on talking to her, and told Megumi to talk to her too, that she’d like to hear his voice. Hesitantly, when he was alone, he would do so. And sometimes he felt he needed to, like this time, due to your choice in conversation.

“You’ll see, our Megumi has gotten so handsome!” 

His face burned, was it out of embarrassment or for the compliment he didn’t know. 

“Could you not say stuff like that?” 

“Oh that’s right. He was always handsome.”

“That’s not what I meant.”  It was useless to try to stop you though.

“A girl from his class confessed to him this week! She probably did because the year’s almost over and we’ll start high school soon too. But he rejected her though so he’s still single.” 

“So are you.” 

“And who’s fault is that? You and Gojo teamed up to scare all boys away!” 

“I’ve beaten up like half of the male student population of the school. They’re just a bunch of pricks.” 

You sighed, “I wish someone would confess to me before going onto Jujutsu High. Although I’ll get to see Inumaki senpai from time to time.” 

Megumi’s face scrunched up, “You have a crush on Inumaki senpai?” 

“What? He’s sweet. And cute.” 

How would I know? Megumi thought. 

Seeing his expression, you laughed, grabbing onto his hands for a moment too brief, reaching from your seat beside him, “Guess it’ll be just you and me in the end, Megumi.” You smiled brightly at him, then again you turned to Tsumiki, now continuing to speak about something else he wasn’t paying attention to as he was left to stare at you, your eyes sparkling with your excitement yet with a tenderness, always hopeful that one day she’d wake up, if only to tell you to shut up. 

He was doing better. He has you both. He’ll fix what happened to his sister, and he’ll always protect you too. 

For a moment, you looked at Megumi and found a soft smile on his lips as he stared at the scene in front of him. It didn’t leave as his eyes met yours. 

___________ 

This weekend, you didn’t visit Jujutsu High. Someone had gone to the school and declared war against the sorcerers. The day they planned to attack would be today. It was Christmas Eve, and while you were worried for everyone, you still were selfishly upset that Gojo had to leave.

“Shouldn’t we go help them then?” You said while working with the preparations for the evening. “We have training, and we’ll be official students at the school in a couple months.” But instead, you were stuck in the apartment. 

“He’ll be back tonight.” Megumi told you while he helped you. 

It was Gojo, he thought. He was the strongest so there was nothing to worry about. That’s what he told himself yet when evening rolled in and you sat at the table, two seats empty, he couldn’t deny the anxiety gnawing at his insides even though he didn’t voice it. 

“Let’s go to bed.” Megumi called out to you, standing out on the balcony in your pajamas, still waiting. “Get back inside. It’s cold.” 

“He said he’d be here.” He heard your voice waver. 

It was past midnight, and you still refused to go to bed. At some point, you’d started to silently cry, your head lying on Megumi’s shoulder as you sat closely on the living room sofa. He didn’t bring it up, letting you cry until eventually you fell asleep. 

Still early in the morning, Megumi stirred awake when he heard someone close the front door. He moved his neck from side to side with a grimace, having fallen asleep with his head on top of yours, the position a little uncomfortable and making it hurt. Footsteps got closer until Gojo was stopping in front of him. The man took the scene in front of him and scrambled for something to say, especially with Megumi squinting at him with sleepy eyes. 

“You’re late.” the boy spoke up first. 

“Were you worried about me?” He tried to make the mood lighthearted. 

The boy averted his gaze,“What if I was?” 

“So you were?” Said the man, actually a little surprised. Pleasantly surprised.

“You made her cry.” 

At that, Gojo glanced at your sleeping figure, still nuzzled into Megumi. Your cheeks were streaked with dry tears. your under eyes and cheeks slightly flushed. The man’s eyes softened, a pang of guilt to his chest.

Later, when you woke up, you found yourself lying on the couch, a warm blanket over you. Sitting across from you, you saw him. 

“Merry Christmas.” he smiled.

You squealed happily, then remembered you had just woken up and had terrible bed hair. You weren’t a fan of people seeing you like that, so next you left out another scream, mortified, making Gojo laugh. 

“The neighbors are going to put up a noise complaint, y/n.” Megumi said from the kitchen, finishing making breakfast. 

As soon as you were ready, you came back to the living room and tackled Gojo in a hug, a puff of air leaving him because of your rough affection.  

Before he could do anything, you rushed towards the small Christmas tree at the corner of the room. Under it, a few presents directed to Gojo, Tsumiki, Megumi and you. 

“Megumi! You were supposed to wait!” you scolded. 

You picked one up and walked back towards Gojo. 

“Merry Christmas, Satoru.” you smiled brightly at him. He brought up his hands to receive his present, a wobbly smile trying to break through as he looked away from your eyes. 

Your own smile faltered, concerned, “Are you okay?” 

“Oh, yeah. All good.” But his eyes look sad and distant, as if he was torn between this moment and elsewhere. “Thank you, kid.” 

“You’re welcome. I really hope you like it. I dragged Megumi around the mall looking for the per…” He stared at you with a soft expression as you kept talking, your under eyes still red and irritated but all lightened up now. 

Thank you for your tears. 

___________

“You already done? Gojo is coming to get us soon.” 

“C’mon, you know he’s rarely on time.” He heard you answer back.

Megumi opened the door to your room but stopped at the doorway when he saw you. You were already dressed in your new Jujutsu High uniform, the skirt flowing in the air as you turned around. 

“Whatcha think? Wouldn’t these in black suit me better?” Almost your entire closet consisted in black clothes but he had to agree that black really did suit you very well. Although he didn’t mind the rare times you wore another color. He’ll find he’d like it anyway.

“It looks good.” 

“You really think so?” You brightened up, finally taking a good look at him. “You look great though! It matches with your eyes” 

“It’s just a uniform.” He murmured, avoiding your eyes. He didn’t know why you always managed to get him flustered lately.

“We’re gonna be using these for a while.” 

Like you had predicted, Gojo was late, but once he arrived, you picked up your things with a sigh and filed out, throwing one last look at the apartment you’d called home for the last 3 years. It wasn’t a goodbye. Once Tsumiki woke up, she could return and you’ll come back any time you’d like. Megumi was the last to come out, taking in how much more empty the place ended up, then closed the door. 

“At school you have to show respect to your superiors.” Gojo started once you reached Jujutsu High. 

“Just like you do?” Megumi said sarcastically, raising a brow at him. 

“You mean we have to call you Gojo sensei?” 

“That’s right!” He pointed at you animatedly. “You always picked things up fast. Now,” He waited expectantly for you to fill the imaginary blank in the air. 

“Gojo sensei.” Gosh you were so cute. Both you and Megumi were so fun to mess with in such different ways, watching the grumpy boy start to mutter to himself in clear annoyance. 

Meanwhile, Megumi couldn’t believe how gullible you could be sometimes. 

“Y/n, you’re indulging him too much.” 

“C’mon Megumi-chan, try again.” Rang his now officially teacher’s sing song voice. 

“Just once and he’ll stop.” You told him, but clearly you were finding it fun. 

“You think?”

____________

Megumi arrived at Sendai at night. The time didn’t matter to him that much on that occasion because it was a simple mission. He was supposed to find the talisman, then he would go to the hotel and head back to Tokyo tomorrow.  

In front of the Stevenson screen, he stopped.

 Something was off. 

Where did he go? Before you could wonder anything else, you felt him grab hold of one of your arms, turning you around and out of your hiding place behind the underbrush. You made contact with the ground harshly while he pinned your hands above your head and the rest of your body with his on top.

You chuckled, a little out of breath from the impact. “You’re getting good, Megumi.” Sure he was. He only sensed you because you let him. And there you were, smiling up at him like you were having fun and nothing was up. How long had you been trailing him? 

Unable to ignore his presence lingering for maybe too long (not that you could with all of him practically holding you down), and his deep blue eyes like the ocean seemingly pinning you down on its own, you squirmed under him nervously. “Are we going to stay like this all night or are we getting the job done?” 

That seemed to snap him back, releasing you quickly and standing up, busying himself dusting off his uniform. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

You sat up, “I’m on the mission.” 

“Gojo didn’t appoint you for this one. If I remember correctly, he actually told you not to come. How did you even snuck out and travel here?” He sometimes found your stealth an equally good and bad point. That paired with your ability to practically reduce your cursed energy to nothing made it hard to notice you. He didn’t blame whoever you got to overlook you. 

“Gojo sensei.” He helped you up, dusting off your skirt, “I got my own money.” 

“We’re not at school. And he should cut down your allowance.” 

“It’s still school business. And if he wants to save money he should cut down yours.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense! I haven’t done anything!” 

“Exactly! It’s a simple mission and you’re here arguing with me!” You turned away from him and looked over to the screen, “It’s supposed to be right there, isn’t it? I don’t even feel anything.” Megumi frowned at your words, then went ahead to open the screen. You followed, standing on the tip of your toes to take a look over his shoulder. 

There was supposed to be a lock in it but it was gone, so without any obstacle, the door budged open easily to find- 

Nothing. 

His face scrunched up. 

He took out his phone. Gojo didn’t take long to pick up. “There’s nothing here.” He muttered out. When he turned slightly to look at you he opened his mouth again, and you feared he would rat you out. And you were right to do so because that’s what he planned to do. You shook your head and clasped your hands together pleading with him. 

You couldn’t hear what Gojo said but Megumi didn’t find it funny, repeating he was going to punch him. Then Gojo hung up. You smiled brightly at him for not telling on you and Megumi scolded himself for giving in to you. He sighed. 

“Can’t go home until I find it.” He turned to start to look around. 

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” 

“It’s dark. It could be anywhere around the school and I can’t exactly feel anything near us. Let’s head over to the hotel and come back early tomorrow.”

You were right. It was dark and if you couldn’t even sense it, it meant it would be more troublesome. He began to make his way back, bringing his phone up to call Ijichi-san this time. “Absolutely not. You’re staying back tomorrow.” 

“What? No! I thought we were good now! You know I’m helpful.” You protested. 

Sure, he knew you were more than helpful, but if Gojo had been opposed to you joining it was for a reason. “I didn’t tell on you, but Ijichi-san will unless you do as told.” 

“Fine.” Now you were frowning. Megumi didn’t like it when you got mad, much less if you got mad at him. But he was doing the right thing, right? Or the closest thing to it. 

When you got to the hotel, you both got ready for bed. Not a word was said. The bed in his room was spacious enough for two so you didn’t see a reason to ask for another room (plus you didn’t want Gojo on you if he happened to check your account, and you didn’t have enough cash). You laid down, facing away from him. 

“Good night.” He mumbled, staring at your back. No answer. He waited patiently.

You squirmed in bed for a few minutes, until you finally gave in. Turning around, you placed a kiss on his cheek, then mumbled, “Good night.” 

A smile broke on his face. He knew you couldn’t stay mad at him for long, and you didn’t like to go to bed while still being in a bad mood. You probably hated him sometimes for it. 

He should’ve known better. 

When he woke up, slowly opening his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the empty space beside him. That made him shoot up immediately. There was no way. No way did you sneak out while he was asleep. That was foul play. If there was a next time you acted this stubborn (unfortunately he was sure this wouldn’t be the last time), he would use Gama to restrain you the moment he saw you if necessary. He hurried to get ready and head out after you. 

It's not until the afternoon when Megumi finds you, coming to a stop behind a fence while it looks like some sort of competition’s about to start on the field. Just for a moment, he’s able to blend both of you in with your surroundings. He imagines he’s there to meet with you, you’re just like any other girl at this normal school on a normal day. It’s a little easier this time since you’re not wearing the Jujutsu High uniform, instead you don a simple, practical outfit (since you’re on a mission and practically trespassing. No need for extra attention.) but that nonetheless suits you very well. Your hair, now long again, flows softly behind you with the light breeze like a soft, dark veil. There’s a hair tie on your wrist for later when you start to feel like it gets on the way but for now he enjoys your serene look.

Of course, you notice him right away and smile innocently at him. He stares for a little longer, your smile drowning him down further but he forces himself out back to reality. “I thought I made myself clear.”

“I’m older than you. You can’t be ordering me around.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. You brought up that lame excuse any chance you got. It was just an eleven day difference. 

“It’s not too late to go back and avoid making this bigger than it is.” 

You brushed him off, “Focus.” 

Like that’s not what he’d been trying to do this whole time.

You looked ahead towards the field, “There’s cursed energy shooting from all directions. That thing’s sure around here.” 

“I can tell that much.” He stared at you, not being able to push down his worry. “How long have you been using your technique?” 

“Since I got here this morning.” You brought your index to your chin in thought, “Which makes it... Past 7 hours?” 

“Go back to the hotel and rest until I’m done here.” 

“Relax, I can hold it up for a little longer.” 

Before he could go on ranting about how this wasn’t necessary and how he’d have to deal with your headache too, or worse, your body could give up on you leaving you all crumpled on the floor, chants of someone’s name brought your attention back to the field. Just in time to see a pink haired boy send a heavy metal ball flying through the air as if pitching a baseball , caving the edge of the soccer goal and lodging there. 

“That was insane. He could kill someone with that.” You turned to Megumi, seeing him equally impressed. Then you gasped, swaying a little in place before Megumi brought his hands up to stabilize you. 

“What is it?” 

“I’m fine I just- I felt something stronger. Coming closer.” Your head began to hurt. 

“I told you to drop it.” He gruffed. Then he heard hurried steps behind you. Megumi turned just in time to see the boy from earlier zoom past him and he froze. An immense wave of curse energy stood out from the rest all of a sudden, there and then gone. 

The boy. 

“Go after him!” You closed your hands around the wire fence. 

“Stay here.” He said firmly before doing so, calling Ijichi-san so he could stay with you. 

You turned your attention back towards the building.

 What is it they had in this place? 

You had some time to rest as you waited for Megumi, but not a call came in. 

It’s been almost three hours since he left. 

Something was off. If that boy had anything to do with the cursed object they had to retrieve, Megumi would’ve been done with it soon enough. But the curse energy presence that irradiated from him was so strong. There was no way you were wrong. 

Unless you somehow were. 

“Do you feel that?” You said to Ijichi-san, pushing away from your leaning position against the side of the car. “There’s a curse-. No. More.” 

His worried look mirrored yours but you’d already ignored too many instructions. “You can’t go in there.” 

But what was it to ignore one more? 

“I’m sorry Ijichi-san.” You said before running towards the building. 

Megumi’s phone vibrated on his hand as he ran alongside Itadori towards the school. You both had only picked up a trace. The curse object was still at the school in the hands of a couple students that didn’t know what they were dealing with. If they had already broken its weakened seal, they were as good as dead.

“Ijichi-san.” He answered between hurried breaths. , “Is y/n okay?”

“I’m sorry, Fushiguro-kun.” He paused and Megumi felt fear start to bubble up inside him. “She went inside the school.”  

“We’re on our way.” With that the call ended, “We need to hurry.” He told the boy as he kept pushing his legs to go faster, “Fuck!” 

Inside the school, you managed to grab hold of a terrified girl and drag her away from a curse’s clutches. You’d lost sight of the boy that was with her amidst all the chaos. 

“Hey, hey, I’ll need you to breathe, okay? I’ll get us out of here alive but I need you to tell me where that thing you were keeping is.” You whispered to her, grabbing onto her shoulders. You could hear the curse spirit creeping and growling just on the other side of the wall that was hiding you from view. 

There was something behind you. You turn to see the boy, a curse trying to swallow him. Then something else just next to you, and next thing you knew it was grabbing you. The girl screamed as another took hold of her. There were too many. It seemed as if they were springing out of nowhere.  

Using your technique, you started to drain its cursed energy just until you were able to reach for your daggers. You stabbed it right in its middle and it let you go, enabling you to reach for the rest of your weapons and hit it until it was exorcised. You took down another using just the new boost of curse energy coursing through your body.

You looked for the curse at the end of the hall, the one that had grabbed hold of the boy and the girl. You couldn’t risk using your daggers, could you? If you did so and landed a hit, it would be a powerful one, but if you missed and hit one of the students… No way.

You felt something familiar then. 

Megumi.

“I know you’re mad but we have a bigger problem right now.” 

“You’re so hearing it later.” 

What could you do? Megumi was just as lost as you. That thing was trying to swallow those two along with the cursed object. If that happened they really were screwed. 

The sound of glass breaking made you both turn towards the window, the pink haired boy jumping in. 

“Itadori!” 

“What the hell is he doing here?!” 

Just like his strength demonstration earlier in the day, with a powerful punch, he got the cursed spirit to release the two students. 

That shut you up. “Well, that does it.” 

Megumi’s divine dogs took care of the rest. 

“Apparently there’s not enough stubborn people around.” He glared at you as he walked over to the boy named Itadori. “Good job.” 

“Good job to you too.” you cooed at the two doggies while they ate the curse and you retrieved your daggers.

You heard the boy laugh, “Who’s she? And what are those?” 

“Someone who's not supposed to be here.” you rolled your eyes. “Those are my shikigami. You can see them?” Itadori nodded. 

“The girl too.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh too then. Megumi had to bite back a smile at the sound. He was still mad at you. “Just so you know I’m entirely human.” 

“Oh.” 

Megumi proceeded to explain to a strangely calm Itadori a little about the curse spirits. You turned around having collected the last of your daggers, and just as Itadori was about to hand over the cursed object to Megumi, its unnerving pressure starting to make your head hurt and ears ring, you perceived another thing. 

“We have to get out of here fast!” You rushed over, all eyes on you and you barely had time to give Megumi a nudge before he looked up and decided what his next move would be. 

“Go!” His divine dogs were helping you and Itadori move the other two away in a beat, letting the curse crash down on him. 

“Fushiguro!” “Megumi!” Both of you cried out. You tried to stand up but stumbled. The constant turning on and off of your technique had worn you down, adding all the time you’d used it today. The couple of hours you took to rest weren’t nearly enough. 

That thing threw Megumi against the wall, the impact knocking the air out of him. You saw blood. The shikigami were released. This was bad. You couldn’t give in now.

“You okay?” Itadori eyed you worrily. 

“I’m fine, I need to help Megumi. Stay here.” 

“I’m helping t-” 

“Please. You’ve done enough. I’ll worry about you too.” You risked a smile, fighting over your agitation, as if to tell him, 

I’ll be fine.

“I’ll see you later. Stay back!” And you hurried after them. Jumping out of the hole that thing had made through the wall, you landed on top of it, one dagger in each hand digging into its body. It wailed and tried to shake you off. It succeeded, but you quickly released more of your daggers and landed a couple more hits before making contact with the ground.

No, no, no, no. Megumi’s head was throbbing and he couldn’t focus. His hopes of you finally listening to him vanished when he saw you jumping out at the cursed spirit. You did manage to hurt him before it sent you flying, rolling over the floor.

“Y/n!”

“I’m okay!” you choked out in pain. 

“Get away!” He knew there was panic in his voice. His throat hurt with it. He’s barely keeping it together now when Itadori follows through where you came from and attacks the cursed spirit. Why does no one listen to him? 

Megumi warns him but can’t keep him from doing the stupidest thing. He swallows the cursed object. 

Ew. 

You gag. 

He couldn’t be serious. 

You both stare in a mix of disbelief, anticipation and dread (and a little disgust to be honest). 

Either the boy dies from swallowing that poison, or- 

His mind stops racing with the possible outcomes and their consequences as he watches the curse get torn to pieces. 

Itadori’s body is now the vessel of the king of curses, Ryōmen Sukuna. 

He watches and listens in horror to its speech. Meanwhile, you were silently moving towards it. Its back is facing you, and like most seems totally unaware of your presence. The chances of dying have always been high, even more so today. So you’ll take one more chance. Your eyes meet his for just one second. You always loved his eyes. If this goes wrong and you really end up dying tonight, you hope to at least give Megumi an opening to escape and live.  

Megumi’s scream gets stuck in his throat and he can’t do anything as your hand makes contact with what once was Itadori’s body.

Your vision is filled by pure, unadulterated darkness. Screams in fear and laments fill your head. Your skin burns and your blood boils. It’s like a lightning strike, as bright as the white beam of cursed energy that crackles at the point of contact. The shock is so great it sends you out flying once again. But this time you don’t say anything, your body’s limp on the floor.

All there’s left is white noise. 

Sukuna turns towards you. It expects to be mad but instead finds itself perplexed that you even dared to touch it. Impressed, even. Though you barely made a mark on it, just a numb stinging where your hand had been. Before something else can happen, it finds itself stumbling backwards, the rightful owner of the body taking over.

“Huh? Fushiguro?”, Itadori brings a hand up to his head, “Where’s um-” He thinks of the name he’d heard Megumi say before, “Wh-Where’s y/n?” When he turns and spots you lying on the ground, unmoving, he’s scared. “Oh god-” He doesn’t get to take a step before Megumi’s yelling at him. 

“Don’t move!” His voice breaks at the end. His body is trembling out of anger, fear, he doesn’t know, but still takes his stance. “You’re no longer human. Under jujutsu regulation, Yūji Itadori, I will now exorcise you as a curse!” 

________

It had been 5 days since the incident at Yūji’s school, and Megumi found himself now at your bedside at the hospital.

You still hadn’t woken up.

That night while he was raking his scattered brain for what decision to make, Gojo had arrived. He’d run over to you then, dropping to his knees. He could barely see anything because of the tears blurring his vision. He tried to control his ragged breathing while he checked for your pulse. A heavy gasp of relief left him when he found it, a little weak but there nonetheless. His hands were on your face as his eyes tried to look everywhere at once to guess how bad you’d been hurt. There was a trickle of blood running down your nose, bruises at the side of your head, but the most noticeable injury was on your left arm, starting from your hand. There were open gashes on your palm as if it had been sliced with a knife, and from there up to your elbow, crooked lines that looked like burns. 

When Gojo had finished evaluating the situation with Itadori/Sukuna, Megumi turned to them to find his teacher holding onto the unconscious boy. Apparently Itadori could control Sukuna, so his teacher had asked him what they should do. Yūji seemed nice. Hell, he’d done such a stupid thing looking to save them. So he’d ask Gojo if he could save him. 

He’d broken down after. Repeating that it was his fault you’d been hurt, that he should’ve given you out the night before. He’d thought Gojo would be more upset. And he was very worried, but he’d told Megumi she’d made her choice, that while fighting curses they wouldn’t always be together and that he couldn’t protect her all the time. It’s not like she’d allow it either. And she was also very strong and could hold her own. If they were lucky you’ll push through one more time. 

He just couldn’t resist you, could he? 

So he’d tried to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault alone. It was yours for what you did to him. 

They’d tended to him quickly enough. He’d hit his head pretty hard, and had come out with several bruises and cuts all over his body and face. Rest was recommended but he would not stay away from you. 

On your second day at the hospital, you’d gotten a high fever. For a moment you’d gained a little consciousness but he wasn’t sure if that’d been for the better or worse. The scene of your sweaty body twisting in what seemed like agony, groaning and moaning in pain had only shook him more. That whole night you’d been restless with what seemed like nightmares. You’d scream, and he’d rush back into the room, having had to step out earlier. He’d clasped your hand, lost as to what else to do but repeating over and over that you were fine and he was right there with you. It lasted a little more until it was finally over. 

Suddenly he’d felt that tingly sensation from when your cursed technique was active. He recognized it. You’d explained it to him. You could activate it without means to “steal” the cursed energy, but to feel it, which took you little to no effort or strain, so it didn’t affect you or the other party at all. It felt like goosebumps all over his body. It wasn’t unpleasant. Just a little weird. You’d said to him that feeling his calmed you down. He stayed the entire night there with you, watching your now peaceful features, at your hand linked with his, the subtle white glow radiating from them giving him a little hope. 

Now, he thought about your visits to Tsumiki. 

“Tsumikiii! We’re here!”

“Keep it down!” He’d scold.

“C’mon, don’t be rude. Say hi.” 

If he talked to you like that, wouldn’t it make it more final? Was he accepting the idea of you staying like that for who knows how long?

He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. 

For a while he’d feared that maybe there was a curse lurking around him. It was starting to feel more real with each day it passed. 

Please not you too. 

“Hey,” his own voice caught him off guard. It sounded hoarse, his throat dry. “You can hear me, right?” 

“The other day, you knew it was me. You did that thing.” He rambled. “There’s no other reason. So you were right.” He let out a wet chuckle. “Maybe Tsumiki might be able to hear us. Well, mostly you. You’re the one that talks more.” 

“You’re going to wake up soon, right?” 

He waited for another sign. 

Sighing, he brushed the wetness from his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform after minutes passed without anything. He stood up. He had to go meet with Gojo and Yūji. 

Before stepping away, he leaned over to leave a kiss at the crown of your head. “I’ll be right back.” He whispered before breaking away. 

They got the call right before Yūji headed out to pack his stuff. 

“It’s y/n.” A smile like Gojo had ever seen took over Megumi’s face, “She’s awake.” 

“Really? That’s great!” The pink haired boy cheered. He’d also been worrying about what happened with you, feeling guilty for it. And you’d tried to protect him. The day he’d gone to see you at the hospital he’d seen how bad you’d gotten for a moment and the worry on Megumi’s face. You two seemed really close and it was clear you cared deeply for each other, recalling back seeing you while cursed spirit fighting.

Gojo’s soft smile was another sight. 

Yet he had to ruin it. 

“Did you kiss our little y/n-chan?” 

“What?!” The color coming up from Megumi’s neck up to his ears was a nice change to the ghostly pale of the last few days, alive with new light. So was the scandalous yet funny look on his face. “How did you-”

“You did?!” 

When you heard footsteps outside your door you turned towards it. 

The first to approach you was Gojo, ruffling your hair affectionately. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid.” 

What was he going to do with you?

You pulled his blindfold down. You were probably the only person able to get away with that. “Happy to see you too.” 

“You won’t be so happy soon.” At that you grimaced. You knew you wouldn’t get out of this unscathed. 

You then noticed Megumi standing near the doorway and your smile grew brighter if that was possible. Megumi was doing no better than you. In fact, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Should he hug you? Should he yell at you? 

Did you kiss her?

The teasing words from Gojo earlier got to him again somehow and he felt his face grow hot. You stared a little astounded at his blushing face. 

Damn. He must be really angry. 

“Hey.”  You settled with, suddenly shy.

Another voice called for you, getting you to look away, “Y/n!” 

“Itadori?” You stared at him, surprised, “How did you-?” You looked around for an explanation.

“Oh, that guy? It’s okay. I got it under control.” 

“So it’s still…?” 

“Yeah. It’s really annoying though. It just called me annoying. And said that it’s glad to see you again.” 

“Is it really?” You said with a grimace. That was… something. “How should I take that?” 

“I’d say it’s quite disconcerting.” Megumi muttered, finally speaking up.

“It says you have guts daring to touch it. It’s thinking whether to kill you or not the next time it gets a chance.” Yūji opened his eyes comically wide then frowned. “No you won’t. There will be no next time.” 

You scoffed, “I’m surprised it’s thinking about it.” 

“It says you’re funny.” 

“This is quite an unsettling conversation .” You chuckled, then continued, something else nagging at you,“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” you worried. 

“Not really. It felt funny where you touched me, and it was red for a while but now it’s gone.” He pushed down one sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal his shoulder. True to his word, there was no sign of injury. Then he turned to you again, his eyes downcast, looking at your arm, “I’m sorry about your arm though.” 

“Oh I’m fine.” You lifted your arm just a tad bit. You were still a little stiff and it hurt a little. It’ll probably scar but you were lucky it hadn’t been ripped off clean. 

“Okay, we should let the girl rest before we head off.”  Gojo dismissed the group. 

“Oh, that’s right! I’m coming with you guys!” Itadori told you before he waved goodbye and exited the room, Gojo following him but lagging seeing that Megumi didn’t move. 

“Don’t be too hard on her if you’re staying, Megumi.” And with that he was out too.

You looked down at your lap, entertaining yourself tracing a finger over the new scars on your left arm.

You felt his arms wrap around you delicately, afraid he might hurt you. He rested his head on top of yours. Your eyes widened, bringing a hand up tentatively to hold onto him. “Welcome back.” 

He could wait a little longer to scold you. 

You laughed, and pulled away. Lifting both your hands to cup his cheeks, your soft gaze met his eyes. You got to see them again after all.

 “I love your eyes.” 

He pouted. “I know. You’ve told me like, a thousand times.” Although it wasn’t the first time you did that, he had to break eye contact for a moment, entertaining himself looking at the monitor beside your bed. Your heartbeat was a little fast. That was good, he thought. Nothing like that night on the rooftop.

____________

Around eleven in the a.m., Megumi was on his way to the medical wing of Jujutsu High to go see you. He’d fallen asleep heavy as a rock for once in his own bedroom. He was dressed in the school’s uniform. Soon, Itadori, Gojo and him would head out to pick up the new, fourth first year student. 

He knocked on the door. 

“Just a minute!” you answered, and he heard you groan. 

“What are you doing?”  His voice sounded muffled from the other side of the door. 

At your lack of answer, he pushed open the door. There you were, up in the middle of the room with your back towards him. And struggling to put on your tee shirt. He stopped. 

“Megumi what the hell?!” 

“I’m-I’m sorry!” Not that you could see, but his eyes grew wider. Stuttering in place, he still laughed nervously, watching how your head was stuck inside the shirt. For one point it was good, for your face was burning in embarrassment .“Do you need help?” 

“No! Just wait outside or-or turn around!” Finally, your face was out through the hole of the shirt, yet you held back another groan trying to lift your arm.

“I really can’t see anything. Let me help you.” It was true. You had bandages around your middle, your chest almost entirely covered.  He walked the short distance between you and stepped right behind you. Megumi couldn’t help but stare at the red, purples and blues on your skin, some of the bruises peeking out of the bandages. Delicately, he brought his hand up to help put your arms through your shirt. You made a little noise of complaint as he lifted your left arm. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” You sighed. His fingers hovered over your skin as he gently pulled the fabric in place and then when he brought his hands up again to untuck your damp hair out of it. “Thank you.” 

He nodded when you turned around to face him. “Does it hurt a lot?” He worried.

You shook your head “Only bothers me when I try to raise it up.” 

“Why didn’t you have someone help you out?” 

“I just wanted to shower.”  You countered. “Was five days out. I totally needed one.” You added with a grimace. 

At that Megumi chuckled. You smiled at him, then noticed his attire, “Do you have something to do today? I thought you still had to rest.” 

“We’re just picking up the other first year.” 

“That was today? Why didn’t you say so? Now I have to get out of this thing and put on the uniform.” 

“You’re staying here.” Megumi stated. 

“What? But I want to greet her! And-And walking would do me good.” 

“You’ll greet her once we get here. You can walk around campus. Either that or I’ll lock you up, and you’ll have to settle on going around in circles in this room.” He threatened. 

“Are you still mad? It’s not even cursed fighting this time. We’re just picking her up.”  

“Yeah, like with the talisman.” He said sarcastically, then sighed. “I’m not mad just- Would you listen to me this time?” He practically pleaded, looking you in the eye. 

You wondered if he looked at you like that on purpose. “Fine.” you gave in. “Guess you’re right this time.” 

“You really mean it? You’re not sneaking out of here?”

You chuckled, “Fine, fine! I’m really staying.” You held your pinky up, and he linked his with yours. “Promise.” 

Megumi smiled wide this time, eyes crinkling at the corners. You sat on the bed for a little while longer and Megumi helped you brush your hair. 

The time to go came soon enough with Itadori looking for him, waving at you from the doorway. 

“And by the way, I was right both times.” He said to you before turning to leave.

 

Kugisaki Nobara had a strong personality, unafraid of giving a piece of her mind. Both Yūji and Megumi found out fairly soon, falling under her judgment. But she was good and handled herself well while curse fighting. Just the right amount of crazy. Maybe a little more too. 

When they were done with her test, and she and Yūji argued over where to go for dinner, Megumi got back to thinking about you and wondered what you were doing. 

“Fushiguro!”  He was snapped back to the present by her. “What do you think?”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear what you were saying.” 

“He’s probably thinking about y/n.” Yūji didn’t really mean for it to sound like teasing but it was done. Fushiguro glared at him. 

“Oh. Who’s that?” Nobara asked curiously, turning to look at Megumi now. 

“She’s a first year too.” 

 “There’s another one? And she’s a girl? Oh thank God!” 

“That sounded a little too happy.” Yūji muttered. 

“Why did she leave me here with just you two?” 

“You’re being really mean, you know?” 

“She stayed back resting. Got injured on a mission.” Megumi explained. 

“But she’s alright now. She’s pretty great.” Yūji chimed in excitedly. 

“And she’s your girlfriend?” 

“What? No!” Megumi denied shaking his head. The color on his cheeks didn’t help him much though.

“But you said you kissed her yesterday?” Itadori asked more than stated, confused. “Isn’t that right, Gojo sensei?” He turned towards the man, walking a little ahead to give the kids space but still at earshot.

“Just like Sleeping Beauty.” 

“It really was! She finally woke up after it!” Itadori chuckled. 

Megumi tried to get a word in. Those two really were blowing things out of proportion.

“You kissed her while she was unconscious? You perv!” The girl right about smacked him. 

“I didn’t!” The poor boy rubbed his upset cheek. He ducked his head. Thanks to those guys, they’d called the attention of a few passersby. “I just kissed her head! I told you that!” He hissed. 

“Oh. Right.” 

When they finally got back to campus, they spotted you in the school garden, sitting under the same tree where you met Megumi for the first time. You heard Itadori’s cheery voice call you and turned to see him coming with Nobara by his side, following Gojo. Then your eyes met Megumi’s, who kept walking away. He looked upset. You stood up, brushing the dirt off your clothes.

“Kugisaki Nobara, this is y/l/n y/n. Y/l/n y/n, this is Kugisaki Nobara.” Gojo went ahead with his flashy introduction, making you giggle. “I’ll let you kids get to know each other.” He ruffled your hair playfully before waving to the other two and leaving. 

“It’s so nice to meet you.” You smiled at her. 

“I so wanted to meet you too.” She returned the smile. You already liked her. And she was pretty too, you noticed looking at her pale skin, light brown eyes and her brown hair styled in a bob. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go pick you up.” You said, not being able to help feeling self conscious under her stare, that went up and down and back up to your arm. You tucked your arms behind you. 

“It’s okay. The boys told me about what happened.”  She brushed you off understandingly. “They actually talked a lot about you.” 

“They did?” You looked at Yūji who immediately straightened up.

“Just nice things! It’s not like there are bad things, is it? Plus I just met you a few days ago.” Itadori said sheepishly. You smiled.

“And Fushiguro didn’t lie either. You’re so pretty! Your hair! Can I touch it?” 

“Megumi?” you felt your heartbeat take a quicker rhythm as your face started to warm up. “Oh, sure…”  You answered her question and she brushed her hands gently through it. “By the way, is Megumi okay?” 

Nobara halted.

“We probably teased him too much.” The boy grimaced, exchanging a look with Nobara.

“Is that it? Then he’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure them. “I do it all the time. And Gojo- Gojo sensei too. He’ll just need to get used to it. It’s sure gonna be even more lively around here.” You smiled. 

That evening, a furry visitor came into your room.

“Oh hello, you handsome.” You cooed at Kuro, crouching down to scratch the back of its ears as it wagged its tail happily. There was a small bag hanging from its collar. “Whatcha got there?” 

You took the bag and looked inside to find a small box. When you opened it, you saw they were sweets. You smiled, setting it aside to pet the dog, ruffling the hair around its head. “Well thank you. You know where Megumi is?” 

Megumi smiled before pushing himself from the wall and entering the room. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” you looked up, smiling back. 

“I thought I’d bring you something since you couldn’t come with us.” Megumi explained, bringing a hand up to his neck. He seemed suddenly nervous about something. 

“How’d it go with Yūji and Nobara?” 

“They’re fine. Gojo got their hopes up about going sightseeing and we ended up dealing with a cursed spirit.” You chuckled at that.

“They seem like they’re very good.” You agreed, nodding. “We chatted for a while…” You trailed off seeing he was still not looking at you. “Are you okay?” You stood up, Kuro looking to get back your attention.

That finally made him turn to look at you, worried gaze looking for his.

Megumi felt his skin get warmer, hands getting clammy. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he was able to start talking, “Listen, about the kiss-It wasn’t like that-”

“Kiss? Wh-What kiss?” 

Oh. 

He fucked up. 

Megumi was sure that those two would somehow bring it up to you too. He thought you were just going to pretend like you didn’t know. Turns out you didn’t know at all and he’d made it sound like there was something worth mentioning in the first place. 

“You kissed someone? Who?” You spoke up after minutes passed in silence. Saying that felt weird, but not good weird. It was only because Megumi had never mentioned anyone. That was the only reason. Or so you told yourself. 

“You. I mean I didn’t-  Gosh this is Gojo’s fault.” Frustratedly, Megumi brushed his hands over his face. 

A kiss, a kiss, a kiss. Since yesterday that’s all he’s been able to think about. 

Meanwhile you stared at him frozen and wide eyed, internally panicking. “You kissed me? When- What the fuck. Megumi, I need you to tell me what are you talking about.” 

“I didn’t kiss you like that. It was just a kiss to your head.” He breathed out a sigh.

“Oh.” 

Then to his surprise, you started laughing. “Is that why you were all moody earlier?” 

“I wasn’t moody.” He muttered, avoiding your gaze, cheeks burning. 

“You wanted to?” 

“What?” His voice came out a beat  late, weaker than intended. 

“To kiss me. Did you want to?” You asked again, taking advantage of whatever had possessed you at that moment, half teasing half serious. What were you even asking? And why? 

Megumi met your eyes again. He couldn’t tell if you were actually serious. Then he dared to look at your lips. 

He shook his head. “Not like that.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. “What do you mean?” 

“If I wanted to kiss someone I wouldn’t do it while they’re unconscious. Especially if it were for the first time and we weren’t even together.”  

You smiled softly, nodding. 

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You walked over to him. Cupping his face, he leaned down for you to place a kiss at the crown of his head just like he’d done so.  “There.” You looked at him, eyes shining. He was sure his eyes were looking at you in the same way. “Now let’s eat up those sweets.” 

________

For the next week, you’re not able to train with the other first years. Instead, you’re left to do exercises to help you recover. Megumi is there to help you when he’s done with his own training. But when you’re back, you’re able to see your classmates' abilities. As you already knew, Yuuji is stupidly, naturally strong. He’s not even using cursed energy yet. 

He’s your first opponent. 

“I’m not sure I want to hit you…”  Itadori says unsure as he comes to stand in front of you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” 

“You should worry about yourself, Itadori.” Megumi comments, a small smile threatening to take over his features when you turn to look at him with a playful grin of your own. 

“What?” That puts Itadori on alert. Next thing he knows is you’re going at him, and he manages to lift his arms just in time to cover his face. “Whoah!” 

Nobara explains to you her cursed technique since you weren’t there to watch her during her test. Since yours is trickier to show, you wait to show her until the end, when you’re all done sparring each other. 

Finally it’s your turn to face Megumi. The other two watch as you try to land a hit on each other. You look so comfortable, used to each other’s movements. It’s more like you’re dancing instead of trying to fight each other, so in sync. At last, you manage to swiftly swipe Megumi off his feet and he lands on his back. He lets out a groan as you get on top of him to pin him down, laughter bubbling up your throat. He looks up at you and grins before he frees himself and turns you both around. You let out a squeal now that your back hits the ground. It’s his turn to laugh, both of your chests heaving.

Megumi stares at your face, your eyes bright staring up at him, face flushed and slightly sweaty because of all the time you’ve been training, very much like he is (his hair’s falling down over his forehead at this point). You’re just strikingly beautiful to him. And he finds that he really wants to kiss you now. The thought paralyzes him. He knows his guard is down, and he’s begging inside for you to move before he’s overcome by whatever is shifting inside of him, gives and leans in. 

The other two share a look. 

It kinda feels wrong to be watching you two. 

But the thought comes and goes as they quickly turn again to the scene in front of them, not wanting to miss anything.  (They’re barely breathing in anticipation). 

Then you’re saying something. Megumi can’t hear anything though. His eyes trailed down to your lips the moment they moved and he can’t seem to stop from shamelessly staring. 

“Megumi?” you repeat. 

“Hmm?” Just a noise is all he’s able to let out to let you know he’s listening now. 

“I asked if it’s okay for you to help me show Kugisaki my technique.” 

He’s back in the gym where they’re practicing. 

“Yes.” He nods, staring back at your eyes. He doesn’t move.  

“Maybe let me go?” You chuckle nervously.

Megumi’s cheeks burn by having to be called out and he quickly nods, moving to help you into a sitting position and brushing any possible dirt off you before kneeling in front of you. 

You call Nobara and Itadori over. They’re sporting very disappointed expressions that you’re totally oblivious of. That’s until you mention what you’re about to do and they forget all about the scene they’d just witnessed, all excited. Yuji hadn’t gotten to see what your technique was yet. 

“It’s not really that exciting.” You tell them, suddenly bashful for the attention before turning to Megumi. 

He nods, letting you know he’s ready. You focus, the bright flow of cursed energy flowing through Megumi’s body coming to your vision. You avoid the points where it concentrates the most since it’s just for a quick demonstration. You settle on bringing a hand up to the right side of his chest, gently but firm. 

Megumi’s heart pounds on his chest as he watches you intently, just like the other two do as if he’s too witnessing it for the first time. There’s grey in your eyes now, the dark brown replaced briefly for silver, and white shiny light begins to glow from under your hand. He feels the fuzzy feeling again. You hear someone gasp besides yourself, and are reminded to stop before you overdo it. 

“Holy shit, y/n, you’re glowing!” The difference from this to someone who's using cursed energy defensively to protect their body, is that there’s no cursed energy surrounding you and the light’s coming from within you still. You don’t react, unable to concentrate on anything but Megumi and what you’re doing.

You smile at the boy before placing your hand to his chest again, reverting what you did. When you stop, the giddy sensation leaves him with your touch. Then you’re back to normal. 

“Are you okay?” You always make sure he is. He nods, not missing the touch of your fingertips for long as you bring your hand up to his cheek now. 

“That was so cool. Your eyes-!” Nobara starts but cuts herself off. 

“Me next! Me next!” Yuuji bounces excitedly. Megumi gets hold of your hands. You look at him and before you turn to Yuuji again to gently explain why you have to decline his wish, Megumi beats you to it. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

The pink haired boy pouts, “Why not?” 

“You don’t have control of your cursed energy yet. It might hurt you. And even then, y/n might get in touch with Sukuna’s again.” 

You can only nod, Megumi taking the words out of your mouth. Itadori stares down at your arm, and so do you before taking it out of Megumi’s hold and hiding it away. The boy frowns at your action. 

“Oh. right.” Yuji nods quickly in understanding. 

“Well,” you hurry to break away the uncomfortable atmosphere of being the center of attention for too long, “We’re done for today, right? Let’s go grab some drinks”.

__________

It was a free day, and you’d all made plans to go shopping. Well, Nobara wanted to go shopping, Itadori wanted to go to the movies and Megumi was just tagging along. You didn’t mind shopping and actually wanted to buy a couple things. Also you wanted to spend some time with your friends just hanging out for a change. 

“So, is Gojo sensei like your dad or something?”  Itadori asked. You didn’t know what brought this topic of conversation. 

“Please do not say that in front of him.” Somewhere in Japan, Gojo sneezed. 

“Why not? He’s awesome!” 

“Definitely don’t say that in front of him either.” 

“I mean, yeah. I guess.” you spoke fondly, “He’s been taking care of me- of us since we’re little.” But what would he think if he heard you say something like this? 

When you got to the shopping district, you were dragged from store to store, both boys following you and chatting between themselves. 

“What about this one?” Nobara showed you another outfit. You nodded. She had a keen fashion sense. And a lot of bags already, apart from the ones the boys were holding, seating at the front while they waited. “You’re not trying on anything?” She wondered. 

“Oh, no.” you dismissed her, “I already got some stuff.” 

You’d bought a couple of sunglasses and some arm sleeves. It was getting hot to keep wearing long sleeve shirts all the time to hide your scars. 

“But I’m talking about clothes.” Nobara whined. “If you don’t buy some I’ll have to give you some of what I got. And I don’t want to.” 

You snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think they’re my style either.” 

Then, she spotted something behind you. “That’s perfect!” 

“What is it?” you smiled at her eagerness, turning to follow her line of sight. It was a very pretty black midi dress. Sleeveless, heart shaped neckline, layered skirt that bunched up nicely. 

“You have to try it on!” She practically shoved the dress into your hands and pulled you along with her towards the fitting rooms. 

“What am I even gonna use it for? Curse fighting?” 

“Don’t be silly. You can use it whenever. Like, next time we hang out.”

You hadn’t worn a dress in so long, probably since you were little and Gojo bought you clothes after taking you in. You remembered that day. It was one of your favorites. He’d brought Megumi and Tsumiki too. 

As she shoved you inside the small room and was making her way to another herself, she stopped at the door. At that moment, the little devil on her shoulder popped up. 

Megumi’s phone vibrated. Kugisaki was calling.

He picked it up. 

“What is it?” 

“We need your opinion on something. Wait outside the fitting rooms.” 

“You need both of us…?” 

“Just you is okay.” 

She hung up. 

“Hold this.” He threw more bags Itadori’s way, the poor boy practically buried in his seat on them. 

“Where are you going!” 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. It really was a perfect dress. Turning slightly from side to side, you watched the skirt move lightly. You opened the door to show Nobara but she didn’t seem to be done yet. 

“Nobara?” 

“Y/n?” you heard Megumi’s voice just outside. 

“Megumi? What is it?” You turned the corner that led to the front.

Even if Megumi wanted to tell you right away a list of compliments, he couldn’t. You looked breathtaking. You watched his eyes go wide as he stared at you up and down. You laughed, bashful, fidgeting with your hands behind your back and swaying a little in place to show off the dress. “I know, I told Nobara it was too much. You needed something?” 

“No- Kugisaki- I mean. It’s just right, you look-”  Nobara smiled from where she was eavesdropping, unable to witness the scene without being spotted by you but with a very clear picture of Megumi’s reaction in her head. 

“Whoah! You look beautiful, y/n!” Yuuji appeared, beaming at you and somehow lifting his very occupied hands to give you a thumbs up. Megumi mentally kicked himself for blundering, seeing you now blushing over Yuji’s compliment. If only he’d been able to speak, he would’ve earned that reaction from you. Nobara facepalmed. “You think so too, right, Fushiguro?” He added, flashing a knowing grin at his friend who was probably blushing harder than you. 

“Yeah.” 

“Thank you, boys.” 

Then tragedy happened. Yuji lost hold of one of the bags and as he fumbled to get hold of it again, he succeeded. Only that the bag opened and one shirt hit the ground. 

You all froze, then Megumi reacted, picking up the shirt. Nobara wasn’t there. She wouldn’t notice. 

You were wrong. 

Maybe it was a sixth, or seventh sense, she heard the ruffle of the bags or the silence that followed was too loud. You didn’t know. 

“You idiots!” 

________

“How long have you liked Fushiguro?” You nearly choke on your water at that. Nobara and you were sitting on a bench next to the field outside, having been done practicing. Yuuji and Megumi were still at it, only because Yuji wouldn’t stop. “I’ve been meaning to ask for the past week but can’t seem to get those two out of our hair.” 

You opened your mouth only for her to cut you off, “If you say you don’t like him I swear it’s bull.” 

You closed it again, unsure of what to say now. When you were little kids, sure. It was true you had a little crush on Megumi. But it was just an innocent thing from back then.  Right? 

Bullshit. 

Not so deep down you knew you’d fallen for him. You knew he loved you just like you loved him, but you didn’t think he’d want to change how things were between you. You were just a friend to him. 

“He doesn’t love me like that.”  you entertained yourself fiddling with your arm sleeve. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“What?” 

“He totally adores you. He looks at you like you hold the stars and the moon and the whole solar system.” 

You chuckled. “Even if that were true, I don’t think he wants a girlfriend. Especially if it’s me. Not when we do what we do.” 

“It is true. So what, you’re going to hold back just because you’re afraid? That’s a waste of time and worrying a whole lot about nothing.” 

You looked over at Megumi, who, as if he could tell you were looking at him, turned and gave you a small smile. Yuji noticed him looking over at the two of you and waved animatedly.

Nobara’s eyes softened looking at you, “He’s right there right now, you know?” 

___________

Itadori Yūji was dead. 

There’d been a mission. The sudden apparition of a cursed womb above Eishu Detention Center gave you no option but for you four to go tend to it, no sorcerer on par with a possible special grade curse available. 

Another special grade in what? Three weeks? 

The goal of the mission was to rescue five inmates that were still inside the second building. After, you’d head out. One instruction was clear: 

Do not engage in a fight. 

Yet right now, Megumi and Yuji were arguing. You’ve come into the second building and noticed things were very wrong right away. For a moment you were also trapped, but thanks to Megumi’s divine dogs you could find your way out of what looked like an Innate Domain. The gruesome sight of three mutilated bodies on the floor as you stepped further in only increased the tension.

“I know you’re keen on this idea of saving lots of people and guiding them to proper deaths. But think, how are you going to feel when someone you save goes on to kill someone else later?” 

“So? Why’d you bother saving me then?” 

“Guys! There’s-” 

“You both need to cut it out!” Nobara lost it too, “Ugh! What the hell is wrong with the two of you?Are you both idiots?” 

“Where’s Shiro? Megumi-” 

“This is hardly the time and place to be acting like-”

“Nobara!” You tried to reach her just before a pool of darkness appeared and swallowed her up. 

“Kugi…saki?” Itadori looked in your direction, meeting your scared expression. Then you gasped, bringing your hands up to your face, catching on to what Megumi was looking at. His divine dog had been destroyed.

“We have to run!” 

It was too late. The cursed spirit appeared right between the two boys, and they froze in place. 

Itadori snapped back first. He tried to attack the cursed spirit with Slaughter Demon but he didn’t get to, his hand getting severed and the dagger breaking in half. 

“Yūji-!” You felt a sudden surge of cursed energy and your eyes widened. You created a shield with your own cursed energy just in time before the special grade sent a pure blast of it out, you being right in its line of shot. It sent you stumbling back, almost hitting the wall on the other side. 

Itadori shouts your name. Megumi yanked him by his sleeve, trying not to trip over his own feet by trying to get to you as quickly as possible. 

“You okay?” You nodded hastily as they helped you back to your feet, still checking if you weren’t hurt. 

“Yūji, your hand-”

“We need to split up.” Itadori says, daring a glance at the special grade. It seemed to be taunting you. “Give you guys time to find Nobara and get out of here.” 

“We can’t stay! We’re not supposed to fight it!” Megumi yelled.

“We don’t have too many options. It’s not like it’s going to let us run away.” You look at him. 

“I can fight. Sukuna can.” Itadori corrects himself. “If I die, you die, right? So you’re helping.” He addresses it. 

“You’re wrong, boy. I still have 18 other pieces of my soul out there.” Sukuna mocks. “Oh, well. I can’t control this body, so do whatever you want. Just know that I’ll kill the punk and his girl before that curse gets a chance, then find the other one and do the same to her.” 

“I won’t let you do that.” Itadori says angrily. 

“Keep focusing on me and you are all dying anyway.” Sukuna says before he falls silent. 

“We can’t trust that guy. Let’s go!” 

“You have to go.” Itadori insisted, looking at both of you. “I’ll keep it busy while you get Kugisaki and get out. Once you’re safe, give me some sort of signal.” 

“You don’t stand a chance! Fighting that thing with one hand?!” 

“I’ll stay back with him.” You spoke up and both turned to look at you.

“No way.” Megumi refused, shaking his head to emphasize his point. “You’re not staying here. None of you are.”

“You can’t stop me.” You said decidedly. “It’ll be fine. If he switches with Sukuna I’ll sit back. Find Kugisaki and we’ll meet you outside.” 

Megumi shook his head again while you nodded, a hand on his cheek. “You better.” 

But you didn’t. You tried to coordinate with Yūji, shielding him every time he’d go for a hit while you tried to get close to be able to touch it and steal its cursed energy. You managed to do so once, and that got you to hit it back with it while Yūji landed a good punch. It wasn’t nearly enough. After that, it was onto you, but you realized it too late. It seemed to have figured to get rid of you first, and deliberately left an opening. Just as you were about to touch it, it swiftly got out of range and brought down his claw-like hand slashing through your torso. The scream that left you felt like it cut your throat, piercing and filling Yūji with dread, before the curse let out another blast of cursed energy at him and he was shot backwards and away, you unable to protect him.

He didn’t hear you when you quickly called out his name. All Itadori could hear was a ringing in his ears that tried to muffle Megumi’s words. He was right. You should’ve left him. And now you might die because you wanted to protect him. And he was going to die too. He didn’t want to die. Not like this. He used to think he was strong. Strong enough to save himself, to save others. To choose how he was gonna go out. 

“Yūji!” In a gap of clarity, he hears you cry out his name. “It’s Megumi’s signal!” 

You’re still on the floor, dragging your body trying to hide out. There’s a hand holding your middle, you feel the blood trickle out in alarming amounts with every strained movement. Your breathing is heavy. You sense it before you turn towards it. You see the black marks on its skin and when he opens his eyes, they’re red. Yūji’s out. 

It’s Sukuna.

You stop. Partly hoping he won’t perceive you if you stay as still as possible, partly because you’re dizzy now, tired and losing a lot of blood. It seems to be reflecting about something. Then it turns to you suddenly. 

You’re pretty sure it’s pathetic, the way you drag yourself back and away from it. Then you reach the border, tiny pieces or rubble falling onto the abyss below. Yūji’s still there, you remember. If Sukuna tries something Yūji will switch back. So you turn from the void and hold its stare as firmly as you can with your swirling head.

“You’re pretty beaten up.” It leans down and brings a hand up to grab your chin. You flinch, holding back a whimper. “It’ll be no fun to kill you like this now. You might just die as it is.” It grins. Then an idea flashes through its mind. “Unless…”

“Hey, you.” He calls to the cursed spirit. Even it’d frozen. Now, scared, it launches an attack at Sukuna. “You’re not very smart, are you?” It harshly lets go of its hold on you, fully turning towards the curse, sneering. 

There’s nothing you can do but watch as Sukuna finally takes on the cursed spirit. Only until he deploys his Domain Expansion. That’s when everything goes black. 

Megumi succeeds in getting Nobara and himself out. When she’s safe with Ijichi, he stays behind. He’s just about to go back in there. What if Itadori can’t switch back? What happens to you? What if he took too long and you’re both dead? 

Then he knows. The special grade must be dead. The Domain closed off. He’s hopeful that you and Itadori will come back safely. That is, until he senses something else. His breath gets stuck on his throat. Behind him. He quickly turns and everything crumbles to the ground. 

Sukuna’s holding you in its arms. You’re unconscious, your head lulling uncomfortably down, a river of blood coming out from a wound on your torso. He can’t tear his eyes away from it.

“Relax, she’s still alive. Barely.” The curse speaks. “If it wasn’t for her, the brat would’ve died before he could’ve switched with me.” 

“Itadori-”

“Oh he’s not coming back.” It smiles maliciously. “Really, I’m in such a good mood right now. You should focus on what’s important.” It really was enjoying the look on Megumi’s face, savoring the fear in it. “I could heal her.” 

Megumi studied him. Itadori’s hand. He’d healed it and overall looked just fine. But you were different. Last time you’d gotten close to it you almost died. He looked at your pale face, the red pooling on the floor. You were dying right now. “Why would you do that?” 

“Just for the hell of it.” 

Sukuna laid you down on the floor with surprising gentleness for a curse. Ripping the already ruined side of your uniform, it placed a hand over your wound, and Megumi watched as it began to close. The action ripped a pained scream out of you, for a moment alarming the boy before you were out again. When he looked down, the wound was gone, only fine, faint scars as tell you were ever hurt. 

Sukuna straightened up and Megumi rushed to kneel by your side. You were better now. You probably still needed to go to the hospital for further treatment. He looked up, “Itadori, you can switch up now-.” 

So rude. “I told you, he’s not coming back. The brat had it coming for trying to use me without making some kind of deal. He’s having a little trouble taking control.” 

“What are you-?” 

 Sukuna lifted a hand to bring through his chest, ripping Itadori’s heart out. ““I’m taking your friend hostage.” Then, it revealed another one of his fingers, swallowing it. The cursed spirit from back there should’ve had it. “For good measure. But I really don’t think he wants to die. You should’ve seen him crying back there.” 

“Now that I’m free, and since I did you a favor, you get to entertain me for a while just until you die. Or I can kill her too. A pity, after all that. Then kill you.” 

Next day, you deal with the aftermath. 

You all try to take in that Yūji is really gone, that none of you were able to do something more to get him out too. You’re also upset about Shiro and Orochi, and even though Megumi grumbles that you know shikigami aren’t pets and not exactly dead, you know he’s upset about it too. 

There’s another thing bothering you that will have to wait. But right now, you’re going to train with the seconds years, having to deal with an Exchange Event on top of it all.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Nobara took a drink of her water bottle, pausing for a moment after being thrown around by Panda. You were also stopping your reign of terror against poor Inumaki. He’d never seen you so aggressive before, even considered using his cursed speech to slow you down. Way to go spooking cute boys. “One of you should stop this routine of trying to sacrifice your lives for each other and confess that you’re in love instead.” Nobara didn’t want to wait. 

You didn’t want to bring it up at the moment. You were busy, so you tried to brush her off. “How could we be thinking about that after what just happened?” 

“You’re going to curse Itadori if you try to put this on him now.” 

“Guess y/n’s been keeping you on your toes, Megumi.” You heard Maki talk to the boy as they sparred. “You’ve gotten better.” With a grin, she smoothly spun around, landing a hit with her spear square in Megumi’s chest, making him fall back onto the ground with force, “Still, I win.” 

“God she is amazing.” Nobara fangirled while you nodded. 

“Oi! You two come back here!” The second year called. 

“We’re going to get our asses whipped.” You muttered before making your way to them.

After Maki gave you a beating -thankfully not as bad and disgraceful as the last time-, you practiced three against three. Rules were clear enough, or so everyone thought at first. First years against second years. Everything was valid as long as it didn’t end in needless injuries/threatened your lives. 

That was, until Megumi had accidentally sent a punch your way, mistaking you for one of the second years. You’d managed to dodge it, but you’d snapped, and you were now aiming for him. 

He raised his hands to block your punches, surprised at the fury behind them, “Hey, I’m sorry! I thought you were-What are you doing-!” 

Everyone else stopped to watch, stunned by your not so sudden outrage. They’d noticed you’d been acting odd before but figured it had something to do with the outcome of yesterday’s mission. They weren’t entirely wrong. 

All Megumi could do was dodge and try to parry you, lost as to the reason for your hostility. He got a grip on both of your forearms, finally restraining you, “Y/n what the hell?!”

You swiftly lowered yourself, one of your legs sticking out as you spun and took Megumi down. 

Behind you, the others displayed a variety of reactions. 

Nobara had her arms crossed, chin up, frowning at Megumi even though the boy couldn’t see it. That’s what you get. She resisted the urge of shouting at you to beat him up further. 

Maki was grinning, someone might say a little wickedly, while inside she felt a little proud seeing the improvement of your movements. 

Toge whistled, impressed (and thankful this time around he was not your target).

And Panda stared, jaw slack and like the others -except Nobara-, with no idea of what was happening.

“I should ask you that!” You scoffed, unamused, staring down at him. “What were you thinking?! Following a curse’s whim letting it heal me and then in exchange you fight it?!” 

His eyes widened as he sat up, “You weren’t supposed to know that.”

“Yeah, because if it wasn’t bad enough already, you were also going to keep things from me.” 

“How did you-”

“That’s not important!” 

“I was thinking of saving you!” He shouted back, then his breath got caught when he noticed you were crying. He stood up, rushing over to you but you backed away. 

“And what? You die instead? What’d make you think I’d be okay with that?” 

“It could have killed me anyway.” 

“Then we both died!” You exclaimed, “What if Yūji didn’t switch back when he did? It wouldn’t have been just him that I couldn’t do anything for.” Your voice broke, “I could’ve lost you too. You’d think you’d saved me but I’d be just as gone.” 

You looked at him a moment longer, before you turned and hurried away. 

Frustrated, Megumi debated whether to follow you or not. Of course you would be upset for what he did, but he’d meant it and was not going to apologize for doing whatever it took at that moment to not lose you. When you didn’t show up for lunch, he decided to at least make sure you ate something. There was no answer when he knocked on the door to your room. He thought you were just ignoring him when he called, so he opened it to find that you weren’t there.

You’d shut yourself in one of the empty classrooms, figuring that no one would show up there. Your stomach growled and you sighed, looking out the window with your head resting on top of your arms that were on top of your knees. You really should go eat something after all that training. You were starving.

Scuffing noises against the door startled you on your seat. Pushing your legs away from your chest, you slowly stood up and walked over to find the source of it. 

The best delivery boy, Megumi’s divine dog, was at the other side of the door. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you crouched down to be at its level, a few stray tears falling. “This is so cheating, don’t you think?” 

Love brought conflicting feelings. Even though you were upset, it still warmed your chest that Megumi gave you space while still being caring. 

The students from Kyoto showed up, taking the opportunity of the principal coming over to go over the Exchange Event plans. It wouldn’t be a big deal, if it weren’t for their intentions of provoking them. 

Nobara instantly got roped with Mai, Maki’s twin sister. You stood up to your friend’s side, wary of the second year. You gritted your teeth when she started talking about Yūji. 

Then there was Aoi Todo. 

With a question very off topic. 

“What kind of woman’s your type?” 

Is he for real?

“Yeah, Fushiguro, why don’t you tell us your type?” Nobara decided to join in, fighting a knowing grin to try and sound innocent. You knew better than that. You elbowed her. 

Megumi, without really catching up to what he was doing, looked over at you. Your eyes widened for a second that you hope wasn’t enough for him to notice before he turned to the third year. Aoi had noticed this little interaction and was grinning, already expecting an answer.

“Why would I want to discuss my taste in women? Especially with you, a guy I just met?”  

Todo’s grin faltered, “C’mon. It’s clear you have your eye in one.”  

“What are you talking about?” 

“You haven’t acted on it?” 

Megumi stuttered, not sure what the deal was with the guy. It’s not like it was his business. Much less that he was going to confess anything right there like that.

Then this guy started tearing up. “I knew it. You’re boring, Fushiguro.” 

______________

Itadori Yūji  was not dead. 

He had just sprung up in front of everyone like a jack-in-the-box right before the Exchange Event started. 

You stood there petrified in place while the boy panicked by how your faces paled and fell. Not the reaction he was expecting apparently. As if coming back from the dead was the norm. 

Nobara was the first to snap back, seemingly ready to pounce on him and beat him up, but there were tears in her eyes, giving away that she was happy to see him. Megumi stared at her before you stared at each other. You could see he was happy too, and unlike Nobara, you did start crying, making Yūji jump out from the box frantically. But they were happy tears. Megumi smiled softly at you while you squeezed the air out of the pink haired boy in a hug. You could be tough but you were such a cry baby too.

Nobara did punch Itadori eventually (she couldn’t do much more. There was an Event they had to win so she couldn’t outshape him too badly). 

“So,” Itadori began, whispering loudly to Nobara, still holding up the memorial photo frame before his face, “How are those two doing?” Thank goodness you weren’t at earshot. 

“Terrible. And you dying didn’t help exactly.” The girl reproached. 

“Well, sorry for getting my heart ripped out.” 

The first competition: 

The Wacky Cursed Spirit Exorcism Race.

Megumi with his shikigami, and you, would be the best scouts. Thus, they’d split in groups to cover ground quicker, Maki with him, you with Nobara and Toge with Panda. Yūji was left to deal with Todo. Something about how the Kyoto students proceeded, though, told you something was off. All of them seemed to be targeting Itadori. 

Hunting the curse spirit be damned. Everyone then went after a different target. 

One thing about you was: 

Your sense of direction sucked. So when Nobara got blown away by a strong gust of wind product of the girl with the broom from Kyoto, and you ended up alone in the woods, you feared you might’ve been lost. That would be the case, if you didn’t have cursed energy to guide you. So following your senses, you went along like that as you’d been doing for the event. There were people everywhere using cursed energy so it was difficult to pick a direction. And there were still the curses you were supposed to be hunting. A certain wave of cursed energy stood out the strongest, so you followed it thinking it could possibly be the second grade cursed spirit. Still, if you couldn’t reach Itadori or fight any of the Kyoto students, winning this thing would be good for yourself and the others. Nobara wanted to help Maki, and so did you. 

“Run.” The voice echoed through. 

“Inumaki senpai?” Your eyes found the source of the voice before he was running in your direction, a startled look on his face as he pulled you along and your body finally followed his command. You dared a glance back to try and figure out what made Inumaki react this way, the source of the strong cursed energy you felt still overwhelmingly near. That’s when you saw it, what was for sure a special grade curse. Its body was white, a cloth over where its left arm should be, two black lines zigzagging its face vertically, with two small branches where eyes usually are. 

This battle was full of curveballs. 

Inumaki reached the buildings where Fushiguro and Kamo were fighting. They’d stopped as soon as they heard an explosion, big branches shooting up by work of the curse. He’d lost you at some point while dodging the curse’s attacks. When he joined the other two, they noticed he obviously was preoccupied by the situation, but there was something else by the way he kept looking around as if something else might pop out of nowhere. 

“Is there another one?” Megumi asked him. Toge shook his head. He didn’t know that. 

“Was there someone else with you?” Was Kamo’s guess. With wide worried eyes, he turned to Megumi. 

You’ve just reached the river when something comes crashing in your direction. It’s the curse. It’s attacking you the moment it spots you. You shield yourself with cursed energy before any of its projectiles hit you. Its body is too tough for your knives to hurt it, but Megumi’s shikigami comes to your help and then both him and Maki gang up on it. 

It happens too fast when Megumi’s hit, a curse bud growing from his stomach. Maki gets distracted and she’s hit too but still she goes to fight while you check up on Megumi. You’d kept your calm, and quickly had resolved what you had to do. 

“What are you doing?” Megumi winces when you place your hands near where the curse sprout is. 

“That thing said it feeds off cursed energy.” He has good control of his cursed energy output, but you use your ability to steal whatever much left you can to reduce its effect. 

“That’s enough- You need to stop. Y/n-”  you’re so focused, his voice becomes background noise when you turn to see how Maki is doing. She dropped Playful Cloud after one of the curses hits and now it has her caught on one of its branches.

You face them both fully, all of the cursed energy making your body buzz with euphoria. With a pure blast of it, you break the branch holding Maki and send the curse a few feet away. That’s enough time for backup to come. Soon, you spot Yūji and Todo.

You sigh before your legs give out. 

“Shit, shit, why the hell did you do that?” Megumi stumbles on his feet, falling to his knees again by your side before having to prop himself up on his elbow when he tumbles to the side. He hovers over you, the last flash of silver leaving your eyes, blood coming out of your nose. 

You laugh and he thinks you might be delirious. “Why do you do it, Megumi?” 

“Because I love you!” He’s crying, some of his tears falling on your cheeks. 

Your eyes are wide in surprise and wonder product of his words. You bring a hand up to brush the tears away and cup his face with a soft smile on your face. “Then you know why I do it.” 

His love for you had always been steady. With how your lives were, he’d kept holding back from his heart’s demand to try new ways of loving you. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Whether you were the one that saved him or killed him. 

Megumi leans down and presses his lips to yours, eyes shut tight while you melt onto him. Warmth spreads from your chest and you swear you feel it all in the space between you, under the palm of your hand that still caresses his face tenderly. 

He breaks away but stays close. You meet his eyes. 

“I love you, Megumi.”  

Your hand falls and it splashes on the water, your eyes fluttering close. 

“No.” He whimpers before he chokes on the sobs trying to shake out of his chest and falls into a coughing fit, blood trickling out of his mouth from the corner of his lips. He falls completely, laying by your side as he caresses your face. His vision goes blurry, lightheaded and teary eyed, before everything disappears.

You feel a weight on your hand. You squint your eyes open, and tilting your head you come face to face with a sleeping Megumi. His hand is clasped in yours between your bodies. You’re in your room. You bring your hands up to leave a kiss on his. The tiny action seems to be enough to wake him up, eyelids fluttering open slowly. He’s fully awake when he sees you are too.

“Hi.” 

A beat passes. His face scrunches up and you do your best to hold back a laugh. “ ‘Hi’?” 

“What is it?” 

“You think you can just say ‘hi’ after passing out right after you said you loved me?” 

“I was just tired.” you giggled and he stared at you incredulously.

Oh my God, he was sulking over that. 

“I tell you I love you all the time, Megumi.” 

“That- It was different.” You were getting to him but you couldn’t help but push further.

“Wanna hear it again?” 

He didn’t answer, but the pink hue of his cheeks was enough for you.

“I love you.” 

He hid his beautiful face on the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss, his spiky hair tickling your skin making you giggle again.

“Ah- They’re both awake!” Itadori shouted from the doorway, and Kugisaki peered from over his shoulder. The pink haired boy was holding two pizza boxes and the girl was carrying a bag with their drinks. 

You hadn’t had an easy life. But Megumi had you, and you had him. You would always fight for each other. And you had good friends, a family. You didn’t know what the future might bring you, but right now this was okay.

A/N: Hello first jjk fic I’m nervous. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written (if you take my hq!! inako series separately. Btw if you like hq!! you can check those out :D). I learned that a problem when fics start to get long it’s not that it’s long but not being sure where to stop. If you’re overdoing it or if you missed a chance to add a certain scene. Let’s see if this doesn’t flop. Not that it matters much if it does bc I just might still write more XD. The title of this fic came from a tweet that said that, that someone had quoted with pictures of Clancy and Torchbearer LMAO (yes I’m a tøp fan) and I thought oh shit that really fits this one. To everyone reading a big, big thank you!!

Notes:

I thought the first place they’d put you in if you said you were seeing such things as cursed spirits would be the loony bin 😭. So yeah, that first thought resulted in the birth of this fic. 

I kinda got a little inspired by Maggie Evans/Victoria Winters from “Dark Shadows” (2012) for reader’s backstory.

Your family had been on the sorcerers’ radar for a while. Once Gojo graduated he’d stumbled upon a file that mentioned the case and learned about your family. That led him to you.

Gojo takes you in months after becoming the Fushiguro’s guardian.

Gojo releases Infinity just a beat before you jump to hug him. He’d only released it so you could reach for his hand before (techniques are tricky for me either because I’m stupid or bc I really haven’t read the manga (I’ve been freely seeing spoilers tho lmao so I have an idea of what’s going on) and I take they’re better explained in it (?). I assume he can focus Infinity to certain parts of his body like I saw on Gojo's past arc episodes).  

You practically start living at Jujutsu High and get your own room there. When he’s out for missions there would be someone around to check up on you.

Yes, Gojo did your ponytails.

Since Gojo had taken in Megumi months prior, he’d already begun training. His technique had already begun manifesting too.

You’re wearing some of Megumi’s clothes that he’d left behind at Jujutsu High and are now too small for him until Gojo gets you clothes. 

That scene is so cute to me but my brain can’t help but go, “Can I pet that dawg?” every time and I end up laughing like an idiot.

You were confused and overwhelmed by the manifestation of your cursed technique, that’s why you didn’t mention anything because you really didn’t understand it. It was something new after all. That was also paired with your fear of losing them. You weren’t used to having people around that understood what you were going through. Last time you’d ended up in an institution. 💀

The permanent look of worry on your face that your bullies notice comes from you worrying about Megumi fighting, unlike the one that came from spotting curses when you were little and didn’t understand.

Stupid bullies hit the jackpot with you because Gojo gave you a generous allowance for the week.

 Nobody at school really knew you were close to Megumi because they hadn’t seen you two hang out together there.

Gojo being a proud dad about you beating up a boy. He’d probably have given you the okay earlier on. Something like, “If they start a fight you end it.” 

Megumi might’ve gotten punched due to the fact that you were involved. He got distracted by you getting hurt and threatening the guy (he wasn’t much of a talker while beating someone up usually).

Looking up facts about Tsumiki made me learn more things about what happened to her (more or less, just skimming through articles and spoiling myself about things beyond s2 lol) and damn isn’t it messed up.

Megumi got scared, thinking what happened to Tsumiki could’ve happened to you. That's why he freaked out when you wouldn’t respond. Just you being a heavy sleeper. Don’t hate meee.

It’s probably stupid but my birthday is in fact 11 days before Megumi’s and when I found out I thought it was cute yk, like Dec. 11 and 22 (do you see what I mean? probably not 😆) so I brought it up here. Also, that makes reader and Gojo (and me)  both sagittarius hehe. Father and daughter (just like, if it wasn’t funny enough, me and my dad (but he’s a Nov. sagi).

You dropped your technique right before Yūji ran past you both. The curse energy coming from him was alarmingly strong enough to be sensed purely without it like any other sorcerer (I mean that much is canon but I’m trying to emphasize my next point lol). If you hadn’t done so and had felt the curse energy coming from him using your technique you probably would’ve passed out right there from exhausting yourself.

I really don’t know if reader’s technique is making sense but imma try to explain what I came up with: First off, I kinda set my mind on Inej from Six of Crows and Noor from MPHFPC and thought about cursed energy like how they put chakra points on Naruto. Omg I know it’s a lot of different things I’m stupid but hear me out JAJA. Reader has a much more acute sense of cursed energy than others. She can actually see it coursing through people’s and curses’ bodies, also cursed tools. Basically anything that has it. Being so, she can see the strongest points where it flows and attack an opponent targeting those, hindering their curse energy flow and weakening them. She uses this in two ways: Weapons: daggers are her go to choice for long range battles (and if she doesn’t hit a particularly strong curse energy body region she still hurts them). For close combat she’d prefer to use a sword or the second way: her bare hands. She can just touch an opponent and extract their cursed energy for her own use. Since she has yet to master manipulating cursed energy that way, she doesn’t use it much. If she takes a little, she can control it better, reducing her own and adapting, or she can burn it off by attacking with it right away with a pure cursed energy hit. If she takes too much she gets like cursed energy “high”, wearing her off considerably afterwards. And if it is from a first grade or a special grade just a small intake could be too much she’ll most likely end up hurt. Other symptoms she may feel by using her technique for long periods are strong headaches, eye sensitivity, mental and physical weariness. Worse case scenario is her body giving out. Her technique is especially successful against opponents without exceptional physical strength cuz she’ll steal or hinder their cursed energy and they’re done for. Another thing she’s currently working on: “ storing”cursed energy (either some of her own or “stolen”): not having to burn it off right away and have like, a reserve. If she’s in battle with a partner and they’re running  low on curse energy, she could transfer some to them (reader being like miss cursed energy battery or smth like that lol). I haven’t thought about her domain expansion but I don’t think I’ll need it for this fic. 💀 I just put too much thought behind her technique probably, and idek if it would make sense in the jjk verse lol. Idk if it makes sense as it is in this fic. But just in case I expand the world of this fic and do more works using these traits I have all this and I’ll have to invent a DE pfff. Basically making an oc. Also there’s more details like what Megumi mentions about you being able to turn on your technique without actually “stealing” cursed energy but sensing its flow. To you it feels like you’re feeling the person’s or cursed spirit’ s essence/personality/conscience. You could say their core or soul but that’s not exactly it, that’s Mahito’s thing JAJA but you’re close enough. That’s why Megumi’s calms you down aaaand that’s why Sukuna fucked you up. 

Your cursed energy shines white. I made that up bc, yk, Megumi with his 10 shadows and reader looking like she’s casting “light”. Totally unimportant XD

There’s always a report after missions. Megumi had recounted what happened but asked if they could leave the details about what happened with Sukuna and him out when they briefed you on it. Gojo told on him when he went to check up on you. Nobara was there.

Reader is a hypocrite getting mad about Megumi risking his life for hers while she be around doing the same thing lololol. 

Anyways, I just wanted to write that scene of Megumi summoning Shiro to comfort reader while Gojo adopted another kid and ended up with a whole fic with no plans and no direction. Just typed awaaay jaja

Me and music go together as some may alr know so here’s a few songs I thought about while writing this: 

 . Peak of Despair by Jake Stark, MITTY

 . Numb to the Feeling by Chase Atlantic (how the fuck, you may ask. I took out the drugs and the horny out of it JAJA)

. DIE FOR ME by Chase Atlantic (pretty much the same case stated above)

. Saving Flowers by salute, Rina Sawayama

. Soft Spot by keshi 

(If there was something else not mentioned here that you’re curious about or stood out to you hit the ask button <3. Thank you for reading up to this point!) 

Until next time, 

Youmarin <3

[urinarythreatinfection]

Hiii!!! Omg I loved Kindness Isn't Spineless!! Would you be willing to do a part 3?? Where reader and the crew are visiting an island and run into readers ex? Since they ex was toxic/abusive, reader obviously feels afraid. How would Luffy and the crew react? Luffy comforting reader? I hope you’re well <33

Hey so I went totally overboard hope that's alright. I ended up making this way too long and I have a book report to do so I'll make this the 3rd part and the next one will be the last part cuz I don't wanna dwell on this too long. Hope that's good.

Kindness Isn't Spineless

Luffy x Gn!Reader. Lots of fluff, the strawhats are here too. Happiness all around. TW: small allusion to abusive ex relationship, reader gets anxious. 2,820~ words.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

“Luffy wait!” You call out to the rubber man as he drags you by the hand happily off of the ship, excited to see a new island. It’s tuckering you out, especially when you’re drowsy from the heat. You try to stop him by standing still, but his arm just stretches as he runs ahead of you. It’s only when it drags you back to him that he realizes what happened, managing to catch you before you slammed into him.

“Woah! Hey you’re being so slow!” He says, putting you down onto your feet.

“I’m trying to be energetic but the nap I took outside ended up just making me sleepier.” You respond, sighing.

“Want me to carry you?” He grins and holds his arms out. You consider that option before shaking your head.

“No, I need to walk around to get rid of the drowsiness anyway.” After declining Luffy nods and almost immediately runs off again, stopping when you squeeze his hand. “Luffy…” You say, your voice stern, and he pouts.

“Sorry…” He doesn’t like being scolded, but listens. It’s not so bad walking like this either, holding hands as he swings them happily. He saved up some allowance so he’s excited to see the kind of food they have here, his eyes shining at the thought. It makes him want to run again but he settles when he sees you looking around.

“It’s pretty here. I know maybe not that different from other islands we’ve been to but they have decorations up. Is there a festival?” You pull Luffy to one of the stalls, buying him an apple to munch on while you ask the stall owner a few questions. As it turns out, there is indeed a festival. It’s why there were other big ships at the dock, people are visiting from other islands to celebrate. “Luffy did you hear that?” You turn to your boyfriend, who nods his head with his cheeks full of apple. He chews a few times before swallowing and licking juice from his lips.

“Festival, right? That’s why they have all the stuff up?” Wow he was actually listening. You give him a kiss on the cheek, earning a “Shi shi shi.” of a happy Luffy. The stall owner mentions that there'll be fireworks too, and even games to play.

“A lot of stall owners are going to be selling food too, which is my personal favorite.” The owner says and Luffy’s eyes light up, looking at you in excitement.

“We’re staying for the festival, Luffy. I doubt the others would want to miss it either. From what the owner said there’s some historic significance to it, we should tell Robin that when we see her.” Luffy seems uninterested until you add “She’ll be happy.” and then he seems more interested.

“Let’s go find her!” He yells, quickly grabbing another apple before he drags you away. He backtracks for a quick second to pay and then you both are actually off, Luffy picking you up and running around looking for your crewmates to give the news. You find Zoro and Nami, Nami seems interested.

“Ooo a festival, yeah we’ll stay.” The prospect of wearing cute clothes and walking around in pretty scenery is appealing to her, especially when she thinks of all the rich bastards that’ll probably come. “Huhuhu.. I’m not giving you more allowance for the festival though, spend it wisely. Unless you want to take out a loan, of course~” She says with a sly smile.

“Crazy woman.” Zoro mumbles and she tugs his ear. “Ow!” They bicker a bit but Zoro also agrees. The festival itself is okay, but the real thing that interests him is the festive alcohol.

“I’m a crazy woman for wanting money but focusing on only alcohol in a beautiful festival is sane?” Nami asks with a scoff and Zoro scowls.

“Okay let's find the others!” Luffy says quickly, picking you back up and running off after waving bye to Nami and Zoro. You find Chopper and Usopp next.

“Festival? Yeah I heard about it, my great great great grandfather actually held the first festival of this island. I even have an ancient relic of the past-” Usopp starts and you cover his mouth before he starts rambling, you’ll take that as a yes.

“What about you Chopper?” You ask the small reindeer and he nods.

“Sounds super fun!” He says excitedly, hopping a little. “They’ll have cotton candy too, right?” You nod and he hops more. “Then let’s stay! I’ll go buy all the things I need before they close up shop for the festival!” With that, the little reindeer runs off with Usopp.

You find Brook and Jinbe next, people glancing at the sight of a huge fishman and a skeleton just sitting drinking tea. “Yohoho, a festival? I agree, what about you Jinbe-san?” Brook turns to Jinbe.

“I agree as well, festivals are always a nice thing to celebrate; especially with friends.” He says with a smile.

“Very wise, Jinbe-san.” Brook says, taking a sip of his tea. “Thinking of spending time with friends at a festival... it brings a tear to my eye, not that I have one! Yohohoho!” Him and Jinbe laugh at his joke, you two leaving after saying bye.

“We already got majority vote, can we go eat now?” Luffy asks as you two actually walk around normally this time.

“True, but this is fun, isn’t it? Telling news to the crew. Plus, didn’t you hear what Nami said? We gotta spend our money wisely. Saving it for the festival food sounds way better.” You tell Luffy and he pouts a little, then grins.

“Okay! And yeah, this is fun!” He says, quickly hugging you. You hug him back, then go back on your festival informant mission. Franky stayed on the Sunny, he didn’t need to buy anything and instead took the chance to look over the Sunny while protecting it. There are a lot of other ships around after all, there’s no telling if one of them is hostile and tries something. “FRANKKYYYY!!!” Luffy yells from the dock up to the ship. A few moments and the cyborg replies.

“Yeah!?” He yells back and Luffy wraps one arm around you, stretching the other to grab onto the Sunny. It launches you both up and onto the ship, in front of Franky.

“There’s gonna be a festival! Fireworks and meat!” Luffy says, excited, and Franky grins.

“Festival? So that’s why there’s so many ships around.” The cyborg notes. “You both want to stay for that, right? Sounds Super!”

“You’re not gonna celebrate?” You ask with a frown and he shakes his head.

“Someone has to look after the Sunny, marines and other pirates might try something.” He explains and both you and Luffy frown. “Cheer up! I’ll be able to see the fireworks from here!” He says, but you and Luffy still seem a little bummed. Franky is mature despite his personality, he has a point. You don’t want him to be alone though, besides the Sunny. Luffy kisses you on the cheek.

“Well, it’s his choice. C’mon we still have Sanji and Robin!” The captain says, spreading his happy energy to you. It makes you feel better; plus, you doubt with some of the crews’ personalities that he’ll be alone for long. You two hop off of the ship and spot Sanji holding groceries, he must be bringing them back to stock the ship.

“Oh, Sanji!” You call out but Luffy beats you to it, grabbing onto Sanji’s shoulders and launching to him.

“Sanji!!” He yells and the cook jolts.

“Luffy you idiot I’m holding things!” He says, but it’s too late and Luffy slams into him. Thankfully, experience and leg strength helps him stay upright. Luffy pulls back enough to look at him.

“Sanji, there’s gonna be a festival!” The captain announces and Sanji’s eyes widen.

“A festival?” He asks and the words echo in his head. ‘Festival… festival..’ His thoughts go to the women crowding the streets in festive clothing, giggling and having fun. Nami and Robin in their prettiest clothes, eating food and playing games. Sanji playing the games for them, winning prizes and offering it to them like the goddesses they are. He can already hear their voices thanking him, praising him, bestowing their beautiful presence upon him.

“Sanji! Sanji! Hello??” You pat his cheek and he snaps out of it.

“Yes I’ll stay for the ladi- the festival.” He quickly answers, blood trickling from his nose to Luffy’s laughter. The rubber man lets go of Sanji, landing on the ground and turning to you.

“We just need Robin now!” He says, having fun on this mission you’ve made.

“Robin-chan should be near the outskirts of the island, saying there were ruins here she’s interested in." Sanji's face darkens. "I wanted to go with her, but I needed to buy groceries.” He seems genuinely bummed. “I can’t keep a lady waiting for me.”

“Cool! Let’s go!” Luffy's too used to Sanji’s woes to take them seriously. You give the cook a pat on the back before you two leave. When you’re at the outskirts of the island you realize you don’t know which part of the island she went to.

“Maybe we should’ve asked around if anyone knows where the ruins are.” You mumble to yourself, bearing the curse of hindsight.

“We just gotta look around, right? Robin always shows up!” Luffy says, swinging your held hands.

“True, Robin tends to appea- AAHH!” You jump with a yelp when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around quickly to see a chuckling Robin.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” She says with a smile as you put a hand to your chest, your heart thumping. Luffy seems unaffected, just excited to complete the mission.

“Robin! They’re having a festival! There’s gonna be meat and history too but meat and fireworks and meat!” Luffy rambles and Robin nods.

“I heard, I was going to tell you all when we met up but it looks like you two beat me to it.” She says.

“Great! Everyone knows now so we can go eat!” Your captain exclaims, forgetting about your earlier statement of saving for the festival.

“Luffy…” You sigh and Robin chuckles again, able to make out the context.

“Well, eating a bit beforehand shouldn’t hurt, right?” She suggests and Luffy quickly nods.

“Don’t instigate him!” You stare at her, betrayed. She gently shakes her head.

“They’ll most likely make the festival food more expensive, it’s better for him to not hold his hunger." The archeologist points out. “Luffy won’t fill up, but it should help.” She has a point.

“True…” There’s also valid concern that he might eat everything before the festival, but there could be some shops that are selling non-festive food that won't sell during the festival. You might even be able to get some for cheap depending on what it is. “Thanks Robin.”

“Have fun~” She says before you two walk off. You and Luffy go to multiple places that sell food, buying anything that won’t sell during the festivities. It helps Luffy a bit, and he pats his stomach with a content sigh.

“You aren’t gonna eat more?” He asks you and you shake your head.

“I ate enough, I’ll save the rest for the stalls.” You say and he shrugs.

“Well, okay!” He kisses you, tastes like the ham sandwich he just ate.

………………………..

Festival time! It’s bright and colorful, celebrating the moon’s creation apparently. It used to be a more elegant celebration, but time passed and people wanted to celebrate in the best way they knew how. Fun! Games and food stalls galore. You and the rest of the crew walk around, admiring everything. Luffy, thanks to Robin’s genius, gets to eat skewers with “moon sauce” whatever that is. It tastes good, you know that much. When you’re walking around you hear some whispers.

“Did you hear Mante is gonna be here?” Your heart drops as you hear the two people speaking.

“Mante? The hottie dancer?” The other person asks. “The one who works with that charity for the homeless?” Fuck, that’s definitely him.

“Yeah, apparently he’s dancing here for the festival. He’s using 70% of the profits he gets for his charity!”

“No way! Apparently dancing here is a ton of pressure! Giving most of the berri away, that’s crazy.”

“His good looks match his heart, I guess.” With that, the two people leave. Your heart pounds in your chest, this is bad, this is really bad. You knew he was getting popular but you didn’t know he would appear here.

“(Y/n)?” Luffy, munching on a moon themed pie, says your name. You’re out of it, only coming to when he presses his forehead to yours. You jolt.

“Luffy, you scared me.” You respond, getting startled for the second time today.

“You were spacing out all weird, what happened? Do you know this Mante guy?” He asks and you sigh.

“Y-Yeah, I used to know him…” Your voice is bitter and Luffy tilts his head in confusion.

“Does he suck at dancing or something?” The captain assumes from your reaction.

“No, no, he’s good. He wouldn’t be this popular if he actually sucked.” Your sigh only makes him more confused.

“What is it then?” He asks but you’re hesitant to answer, not wanting to ruin the fun by saying he’s your ex. Before he can push more, the sound of music starts. It calms you for a second before your eyes trail to a platform, on it are various dancers; and in the middle is the person of your nightmares. He’s handsome, maybe even more handsome than before in his beautiful dancer clothing. Luffy swallows the pie in his mouth, furrowing his brows as he follows your gaze to the dancer. He doesn’t know what’s going on but he knows you look scared. He quickly finishes the rest of the pie and grabs your hand. “Fireworks are way better anyway, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Where are you guys going?” Chopper, holding cotton candy, asks. He notices your pale complexion and gets worried. “Are you okay? Did you eat too much?” You shake your head and he frowns, holding up his cotton candy to you. “Want something sweet?” You shake your head again and he looks really worried.

“It’s okay Chopper, I’m just a little nervous. Maybe I just need to go somewhere quiet for a bit.” You tell the little reindeer and he nods, still staring at you. He pulls out some chewable tablets.

“Just in case it is your stomach, chew two of these and you should feel a little better.” The doctor says and you take the tablet, pocketing them.

“T-Thanks.” You mumble.

“What’s going on? Did you get constipated?” A voice behind you says, Zoro. He’s with Usopp and Nami, holding whatever they buy or win.

“Ohh is that it? Are you constipated?” Luffy turns to you and you shake your head again. The assumption is a little funny, but it isn’t really helping your nerves.

“Stop assuming gross stuff.” Nami says, annoyed. She walks over to you. “You’re just feeling anxious right? Robin is thinking about going back to the ship if you wanna go with her.” The offer is really tempting, the problem is that you also really don’t want to ruin things for Luffy. Of course, he can choose to have fun without you and leave you to Robin and Franky. He trusts them to keep you safe like this, but there’s also a chance he might be too worried to leave you alone. You can’t properly predict which one it’ll be with him, plus you do want to have fun with him around here. The thought of losing that because of him makes you angry.

“I’ll go somewhere with less people for a bit, then I'll come back for the fireworks.” You settle with and she nods.

“Well, okay.” Nami says, turning around to see Zoro trying to wander off. She quickly grabs him and pushes him to Usopp. “Make sure he doesn’t run off.” She tells him. Usopp doesn’t really want to, but Nami is scarier than Zoro. “I’ll see you, then. Don’t hesitate to go back to the ship if you need to.” She says and Chopper nods.

“I won’t.” You respond and Luffy looks at you, tightening his hold on your hand.

“I’m coming with you.” He says and you look at him.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be ba-”

“Nuh uh, I wanna go with you. I wanna rest too.” He doesn’t want to leave you alone, walking around without you wouldn’t be as fun anyway. You sigh in relief.

“Mkay, let’s go then.” To be honest you don’t wanna be completely alone either. You’re scared being alone might just make the thoughts come back. With that, you both leave after saying seeya to Nami, Zoro, Usopp, and Chopper. 'I just want to have fun without thinking of him.'

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 5

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Fatphobia, misogyny, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues. Summary: The raid on the club effects more than just the people inside, and it finally puts you and Javier in a room together for a real conversation to be had. Notes: Hi all! Sorry about the erratic posting schedule, but I'm doing my best. Thankfully I'm coming out of my busy season at work and moving into something that is chaotic in a different way 👍

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

Getting an oversized guard dog into the back of your tiny, broken-down car and halfway across the city was not on your checklist of things to do today. Fleeing your apartment was not either. Getting Chi-Chi to vaguely calm down enough to drive was a task in and of itself, but when you finally pull your car into one of the spare parking spaces adjacent to Javier's building, you breathe a sigh of relief. At best, you know where his spare key is. Though you doubt he'll be glad to see you in his apartment when he gets home from a night of work.

You just didn't know where else to go.

Javi sighs as he closes the door. He's had to convince himself not to go to the club the entire way back to his apartment. Almost turning around at one point, but he knows he would just be turned away. He doesn't want to care about your safety, you've made your feelings towards him very clear, but he can't just leave you to twist in the wind.

Up to his floor and to that now-familiar front door, you take a deep breath and tell Chi-Chi to sit before knocking twice on Javier’s door. Even if you assume he’s working — why wouldn’t he be? You’re not just going to barge into his place. Not after the awful things you said to him. Not when he very well might have saved your life tonight.

Turning and frowning at the door, Javi puts down the cigarette he had just been about to light and opens the door. His eyes going wide when he finds you on his doorstep with a very large dog by your side.

Chi-Chi starts to bark immediately, but you reach down (barely having to reach) to soothe her and frown apologetically when you look back up at Javier. “I didn’t know where else to go,” you admit softly, wondering why he’s here and if he’ll even let you in.

Javi opens the door wider and wonders if the acute sense of relief is just because of your soulmate status. He has thought more about fucking soulmates in the past week than he probably ever has in his entire life. "Want a drink?" He grunts, figuring it would be a neutral question and shouldn't piss you off too badly.

“Thank you.” Your own relief is just as mysterious, but you’re willing to set that aside for now just because you’re grateful to be safe. “I’ll um…I’ll put Chi-Chi in the guest room. She’s well behaved and has had a lot of excitement so hopefully she’ll just take a nap.”

"Let her sniff around." Javi doesn't mind dogs, he likes them. He doesn't approach the large furry creature, but he does offer a hand if she would like to sniff him. "The more comfortable she feels, the quicker she will calm down."

“She doesn’t like men,” you offer, trying to explain why you were going to set her up elsewhere. But aside from barking just once, Chi-Chi hasn’t done much besides look at Javier curiously. So you let her off her leash with a scratch behind the ears. “She uh…she’s my landlady’s dog. My landlady and my neighbor were both out tonight so it was just me and her and…and I didn’t want anything to happen to her.”

“She’s protective.” He hums, watching as the dog cautiously approaches him. Her nose is wet and warm as it bumps against his hand and he doesn’t move as she starts to sniff him.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” you coo softly to the massive dog, fascinated to see her like this with a man for the first time ever. ��Javier’s good. We can trust him.”

He almost snorts at the comment, knowing the last thing you do is trust him. But maybe that’s not true, you left your apartment after all. After long minutes of sniffing his hand and his shoe, a brief bump against his crotch, the dog bumps her head under his hand in the universal demand for attention. “Good girl.”

“She’s sweet,” you assure him, and breathe a sigh of relief when Chi-Chi accepts the pets she is given and goes to flop down at the feet of the armchair you used to like to sit in while you were staying here. It must still smell like you. “We, um…we won’t overstay our welcome. I know you didn’t mean to invite me over when you called.”

“I doubt you can go home tonight.” Javier admits. “If you don’t want to stay here, I can get you a hotel.” Helena isn’t here to be a buffer anymore. “But there are clean sheets on the bed.”

“I’d feel safer here,” you admit with a half shrug of your shoulders. He has been busying himself with pouring drinks and you accept one gratefully. “Are you, um…are you okay?” You motion to your own cheek, indicated where he has a bruise blossoming from the fight earlier. “I mean…is that why you’re not at the raid?”

“Suspended.” Javi takes a sip of his own whiskey and reaches up to touch his cheek, wincing slightly. “Bastard.” He hisses, wishing he had blacked both of Alex’s eyes.

“Motherfucker,” you murmur with a shake of your head, and sit down in the chair that Chi-Chi is currently guarding. “I’m sorry.”

“Could be worse.” He shrugs slightly. “I could be a CIA prick.”

“He…did not look good.” That is for damn sure, though you’re still hesitant about whether not you’re entitled to even say anything about it.

“Good.” Javier grumbles a little under his breath, but he’s happy that little fucker is having a worse day than he is. He drains the rest of his whiskey and walks back to the bar cart.

“Can I ask…” You’ve barely touched the glass in your hand but you hang on to it tightly like some kind of security blanket, wondering if Javier is already regretting letting you in. “What the fight was about?”

He turns and looks at you for a moment, his brows pinched together and he’s about to say something sarcastic when he sees that confused and worried look on your face. The same one that you had worn when the ambassador had been there. One that said you couldn’t possibly think that the fight was about you. “What do you think it was about?”

“If I had to guess?” Since you’ve been chewing on it all afternoon and now with the raid tonight? It seems obvious to you. “Something to do with the CIA staking out the club you were — are — going to raid?”

He shakes his head and takes another swallow of whiskey to dull the ache and to settle the unease in his stomach that’s been rolling around since he ran into you in the embassy halls. “Not quite.” He grunts and sighs after that, his shoulders rolling slightly. “It was about you.”

“Me?” The audible surprise in your voice is enough for him to understand that that is the very last answer you were expecting.

He turns towards you, aware that you will just claim he’s using your soulmate connection to control you or he’s jealous, but he says it anyway. “He’s a fucking prick. You don’t need to be with that son of a bitch.”

Deeply confused about why he even cares, you just take a sip of your drink and look down at your toes. “I already dumped him.”

“Good.” Now he understands why the prick had felt the need to take stabs at your weight, he was emasculated when you dumped him.

“What about me?” You ask after a pause, since it doesn’t make any sense to you that either man would care that much. Enough to get into a fist fight over someone that neither of them, apparently, liked a little or at all.

"Doesn't matter." He's not going to hurt your feelings by telling you what the man you had been sleeping with was saying about you.

“If it was about me, don’t you think I deserve to know?” Maybe you shouldn’t push, but being told the reason doesn’t matter feels a lot like saying you don’t matter. And if they were fighting about you then that clearly isn’t true.

Javi rocks his jaw, hating that you are pushing this. "He was running his fucking mouth." He finally says after staring at you for a moment. "So I punched him in it." Hopefully you will leave it at that, but he has a feeling you won't.

“It was that bad?” You ask simply, bewildered that Alex could possibly have cared enough to say anything cruel.

He doesn't say anything, just stares down into his drink and hopes that you will let the question die if he doesn't answer. He honestly doesn't know why he cares what that fucker thinks about you. You made it clear that you would rather anyone else be your soulmate, and it's not his business what kind of man you decide to fuck. Still, he had been like a bull with a red flag waved in front of his face. Reacting furiously and only now examining the whys of the moment that had gotten him suspended.

Stoic silence has never exactly been a response you have taken lightly or well, and the attitude that you came here with —apology and peacemaking — so easily gets stomped under the heel of your shoe when provoked even the slightest. “If it’s that bad then don’t I deserve to know?”

"Christ, you won't let it go, will you?" Javi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "He fucking called you an assignment because no one picks a fat chick, but maybe he would visit again because 'even whales suck cock'." He doesn't snap it out as hatefully as Alex might have, but he can't look at you when he says it, immediately draining the rest of his whiskey to have something to do.

It’s certainly not the worst insult you’ve ever had slung your way in your life, but it’s not kind by any means. But it is the sort of comment that will probably have you second-guessing even going to Freckles or Vanessa for at least the next several months. The kind of comment that will have your eyes downcast at floor and pavement without the confidence that you have spent your entire adult life working to cultivate. The kind of comment that makes you feel as useless and unwanted as you always did as a kid. “Got it,” you murmur, head bobbing in a repetitive nod. “Got it. I, um…I’ll get out of your hair…” you decide, setting down your glass and altogether ready to flee his apartment despite having nowhere to go, just so he won’t see how genuinely hurt you are by what Alex said. Or worse, how much you appreciate the fact that Javier stepped in to defend you.

"Don't go." Javi won't make you stay, but he doesn't want you to leave when you're upset. He can hear the hurt in your voice. His eyes sliding over to where you are halfway out of your seat. "You don't have to." He has a feeling that being alone would be the worst thing for you.

“You can’t possibly want me around when I’m like this.” The tears have welled up in your eyes and are threatening to spill over, and Chi-Chi has sensed the change in your mood, sitting up in front of you and whining softly in concern. “Or at all, for all the grief I’ve given you.”

"Don't go." He murmurs again softly.

“I’m sorry.” That’s when the first tears fall. With two small words that mean so many different things.

"Don't be sorry." He shakes his head, frowning and wishing that he had another drink but he doesn't move. "It's not your fault he's a fucking prick."

“I’m sorry for so much more than that.” You wipe at your cheeks, calling yourself back to order as quickly as you can and also scratching between sweet Chi-Chi’s ears to soothe her so she doesn’t get too worked up. “I’ve given you nothing but grief and you didn’t deserve it.”

He frowns slightly, wondering what is with your change in attitude. "No, I didn't." He won't mince words and make you feel better. You were wrong about him.

“Helena set the record straight.” He deserved to know the discussion that was had about him just like you did, even if the one about you was far worse. “About how you protected her, and she was the one who insisted on trying to get information. That—that you didn’t send her in for it. I misunderstood the whole situation and I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you.”

Javi lets your explanation settle over him for a moment. Absorbing it. Letting it sit for a moment before he nods. "It was a shit situation." He admits. "At least she survived. Can one day move past it. Unlike the other girls that went with them that we fished out of the river last week."

“They’re all psychopaths. The sicarios.” The best you can do is shake your head in utter disgust. “But she’s going to be okay. It will be good for her to get to move. To get away from the memories, at least physically.”

"They are." That he will completely agree with. His jaw tightens slightly, knowing that right now he is on the outs of the action, unable to be there. Murphy probably won't even call him tonight. He looks at his empty glass and knows that before he gets too drunk, he should probably eat. "You hungry?" He asks, looking over at you curiously. He had never been around while you and Helena ate, often working long hours that week that you stayed here, but he had appreciated the leftovers in the fridge.

“Sure.” The olive branch he’s offering isn’t insignificant, and you’re not going to ignore it. Especially when you actually are hungry. In all the commotion of the day you’d completely forgotten to eat at all.

"Anything in particular you want?" He reaches over and nudges your drink towards you, urging you to drink it. "I can go pick something up or we can get it delivered."

“How do you feel about Lebanese?” It hadn’t at all been what you expected to see when you arrived in Bogotá, but there had been a wide variety of international restaurants in the area owned and operated by immigrants from other countries. Not the least of which was the amazing Lebanese restaurant two blocks from Javier’s apartment.

“I normally get the lamb kafta.” He tells you. “Haven’t tried much else on the menu to be honest.” He’s a simple guy, if he likes something, that will be what he orders every time. Someone had brought some in to the office one day and he had asked where it had come from.

“Have you never tried their falafel?” You ask in mock shock. The fact that you’re pushing forward, trying to be relatively normal with each other, it matters more than you want to admit.

“I don’t have clue what that is?” Javi admits with a snort, shrugging slightly. “Is it good?”

“It’s amazing, I promise.” In fact you’re prepared to swear to it, just hoping that what you consider amazing also fits his taste buds.

“Then I’ll let you order.” He offers, figuring it makes more sense because he doesn’t know what you like. In fact, he knows very little about you. “Sound good?”

“I’ll put it under your name.” And you’ll get an order of his lamb kafta, just in case he doesn’t end up liking the falafel. You’re balancing on a very thin and fragile tightrope right now so you don’t want to push too hard. Not anymore than you already have, anyway.

“That’s fine by me.” He stands with a groan and fishes his wallet out of the back of his suit trousers and pulls out some money. “I’m going to take a shower.” He tells you. “Use this for the food.”

“I’ll have it back by the time you’re dressed.” And you’ll use your own money, but there’s no use turning it into an argument. Arguing seems to be what you and Javier do best and most easily, but you’re trying to avoid it for at least a little while.

“Don’t leave.” He stops and turns around with a frown on his face. “Have it delivered.”

“Okay.” The look on his face is so set that you only nod. “I promise.”

He nods and looks like he’s going to say something before he just turns around and walks to his bedroom. Eager to get out of the suit and clean up a little.

It would be easy and very like you to just disregard his request and go pick up the food on foot. It wouldn’t take very long and it certainly wouldn’t be difficult. But something about breaking this first promise you made to him in good standing just doesn’t feel right. It feels worse than just sort of off. So you head back into the kitchen and pick up his phone, dialing the number for the Lebanese place listed on the front of the menu at the top of his take out drawer.

Javi feels bad about asking you to stay in the apartment, but he gets the nagging feeling that if he lets you out of that door, he won’t see you again. Plus he’s on edge, knowing that the sicarios will be trigger happy after they learn a kill team has been sent out.

You’re closing the door behind the delivery guy when Javier comes out of his room. “Good timing,” you tell him, holding up the bag. Your shoes are off and sitting by the door, so hopefully he doesn’t question that you kept your promise.

You are still in the professional wear from the Embassy, making him feel guilty about changing his own clothes. He doesn’t have anything for you to change into and he doesn’t want to embarrass you by bringing that up. “Good.” He hums. “I’ve realized I haven’t eaten anything since a slice of toast this morning.”

“I’ve had coffee and cigarettes, does that count?” Forks from the drawer and refills for each of your glasses, and before you know it you’re both sitting down at his table with plastic takeout containers full of fragrant dinner.

“Coming from a place of complete hypocrisy—” he points at you with a fork. “That’s not good for you.”

“Bite me,” you smirk, and shove the container of falafel, rice pilaf, labneh, and other tasty goodies toward him. “We both have terrible habits.”

He glances down at the container and pokes at it with interest. “Didn’t say we didn’t.” He points out. “But you took care of Helena, maybe you should take care of yourself.”

“As long as I’m in enough of one piece to get my work done, I’m fine.” You shrug, poking at the container of kafta, turnip pickles, and baba ghanoush in front of you. “Besides, I think we’ve established tonight that I could stand to lose a few pounds.”

“Don’t do that.” Javi huffs, picking up one of the round little balls and inspecting it. “There’s not a goddamn thing wrong with you and you know it.”

“I definitely do not know that, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” The first bite of lamb is unctuous and warm with spices, but you lean on the table and frown. “I’d be the biggest liar in the world if I said I hadn’t heard it before.”

“Because people are fucking assholes.” He snorts again and shakes his head. “Are you happy with who you are?”

“Fuck no.” You snort at the absolute ridiculousness of that question and lean back in your seat. “Why? Are you?”

“I don’t know much about you, but I don’t have any problem with anything I’ve seen so far.” Javi shrugs slightly, a little surprised by the vehemence in your response when you see so self-assured. “You’ve got a nice ass.” He adds, as if that helps prove his case.

For a minute you just stare at him, bewildered, before a disbelieving laugh punches its way out of your throat. “I—what?”

He looks down at his plate again, stung by the laugh when he had thought he was being nice. “Okay.” He huffs, shoving a bite of food into his mouth. “Forget I said anything.”

"No, no, I mean—" You pinch your eyes shut and remind yourself not to snap back. To just be a fucking normal person for once in your life instead of always being on the defensive. "I'm surprised that you...I mean I thought you hated me. That's what I mean."

“You hated me.” Javi corrects. “I didn’t know you.” He remembers that one meeting in the street in front of the brothel and snorts. “Except we sleep with the same women.”

"I hated my assumptions." You're a big enough person to admit that, though it feels appropriately humbling. "Thankfully, they were mostly wrong."

“Mostly?” That amuses him in an ironic kind of way and he wonders what it is that you think you have gotten right.

“Mostly.” Though this does make you smirk slightly. The amusement is so deep-seated you can’t help it. “I was not wrong about every woman you speak to falling at your feet.”

“Shiiiiiiit.” Javi snorts and shakes his head with a sardonic smile on his face. “That’s damned sure not the truth.”

“Name one,” you counter, knowing he’ll struggle. “And the ambassador doesn’t count.”

He lifts a brow. “You.” He says bluntly. “Damn sure woulda remembered you falling at my feet.” He takes another bit of the rice and reaches for a lamb kafta.

“I did.” You fidget slightly in your chair with the uncomfortable realization that he didn’t notice you at first. Not that he should have. But knowing that he is your soulmate makes it sting now. “The first time I saw you…at the embassy. I was with one of the secretaries and she…she told me about you.”

“You wore a pink shirt,” Javi hums. “Three inch heels that made your ass bubble up under a pencil skirt.” He had thought about it, thought hard on it and remembered seeing you around the embassy in passing. Although you always seemed to skitter away from him rather than come towards him.

“How…?”

“Because you were wrong about me not seeing you.” Javi has a wandering eye, he won’t deny that. If there’s a woman around, he’s going to appreciate her beauty. “You just seemed to rush away any time you saw me.” You seem shocked that he is telling you this and he wonders if it’s because you think that you shouldn’t receive a lot of attention because you aren’t thin.

“I guess I’m just…used to not being noticed.” It’s a nasty feeling to admit it, but being more or less invisible has always given you an edge as a journalist. Let you observe and be absorbed by what is happening around you. Apparently that isn’t the case when it comes to Javier.

“I noticed.” He takes another bite of his food and notices that you haven’t eaten much so he motions to your plate. “Eat.” He orders softly. “Noticed you outside the brothel too. Wondered if you were a client or if you were going to become a working girl there.”

“My editor wouldn’t sign off on me going undercover,” you admit, picking up your fork again. “I almost did it anyway.”

Javi shakes his head. “You don’t want to do that.” He frowns and looks down at his food, thinking about Helena. “For good damn reason.”

“It took me a while to get my footing down here, that’s all.” He doesn’t seem to be a big fan of the falafel, so you switch plates with him and try to find your appetite again.

“Thanks.” He pokes at your plate and frowns. “You like that, right?” He asks, wanting to make sure you aren’t just switching to make him happy.

“I got both of our favorites…” It feels silly to admit, but here you are. “Figured it couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Did you try it?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, just reaches down and picks up one of the skewers to put on your plate.

The striking difference in how he’s treating you now versus just a week ago is enough that you simply nod, thank him, and try to imagine what it would be like between you now if the unfounded anger — yours was unfounded, his was reactionary — had never existed. If you had met by accident. Spoken that day at the embassy, or any of the others since. If Alex had never been a part of your life. If you hadn’t fled your honest attraction because Colleen had advised you to stay away from the skirt-chasing agent.

The silence settles between the two of you. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s anticipatory. As if waiting for one of you to break and ask a question, any question. He takes another bite, happy when you start to eat again. Keeping an eye on you as he starts to devour his own plate. He’s got a lot of experience waiting for a suspect to talk, understanding the value of silence and how it affects some people.

To say that you have questions would be somewhat of an understatement, but what’s overshadowing it is that you don’t even know where to begin. When your whole consciousness is wrapped up in trying to understand, how do you choose where to start? Some part of you seems to build up and build up, until what comes out of your mouth is finally: “So why is the elephant on your thigh?”

The question of you really being his soulmate is put to bed. He had thought that it might have been some kind of joke. The girls yanking both of your chains, but he doubts they told you about what kind of tattoo he had. They might have fucked with him, but they wouldn't share that. "Who sees my thigh?" He asks, chuckling quietly. "I can't have visible tattoos, it's too dangerous."

“Sure, but…” It came out more bluntly than you meant it to, you know that. It’s just so hard to try to imagine how you and Javier are meant to knit together so perfectly that the universe made you soulmates. “That was blunt. I’m sorry. It just surprised me when it appeared. It’s the last place I ever would have thought to put a tattoo.”

"It's a spot I...." He struggles with how to explain it. He sighs softly. "It's the last place my mother touched me." He admits after a moment. "She was surprisingly alert, reaching over and grabbing my thigh." He looks down at his food and remembers how his frail and perpetually exhausted mother had suddenly had a burst of strength. "It's— that spot is where her thumb was. Elephants were her favorite animal. It made sense when I was drunk."

“It makes perfect sense,” you assure him, voice dropping in shame over having asked so bluntly. You really do just spit things out sometimes. “I’m sorry about your mother. It sounds like you were close.”

He wonders why you sound upset, but he nods. “Thanks. She was amazing.” He glances up at you again. “What about yours?” He asks. “Any special meaning?”

Because you had just taken a bite you have to wait long enough to chew, but eventually you motion to your right foot, where your one small tattoo sits on the outside of your ankle. "The anchor? Yeah, it's...it's on our state flag." He raises one eyebrow slightly, so you explain. "Rhode Island. We have an anchor on the flag and the state motto – hope – underneath. I got it so that no matter how far I traveled, I would always have a piece of home with me."

You're nostalgic and sentimental. He can see the wistfulness in your eyes as talk about home because that's apparently what it is to you. "Makes sense." He chuckles. "I thought maybe you had been in the Navy or something."

"One of my brothers joined up, but that's the closest I'll ever get." His laugh, though small, is infectious, and you end up joining him in it. The warm sound shared between you is almost a hug. "I love boats, but not rules."

"Yeah." He grunts, reminded of his own disciplinary action because of breaking some rules. He sometimes gets annoyed at all the red tape and he's not above doing dirty deeds to make sure the bad guy doesn't win. "I get that."

"Is there..." You shift in your seat, feeling acutely aware of yourself. “Anything you want to know about me?”

Javi is fantastic at flirting. Amazing at charming women and getting in their pants. This is much more important than those simple tasks. "Why journalism?" He asks, looking into your eyes and wondering why a reporter from Rhode Island was here in Colombia, if not to somehow run into him.

"People deserve to have their stories told." It's why you specifically tell human interest stories. Why, as a reporter, you have focused on sharing the words of people who otherwise might not be heard. "Helping people understand each other is something that newsprint can still do really effectively."

“Your stories are really compassionate.” He agrees, looking back down at his plate and realizing he’s almost done.

Surprise overtakes your face again. "You've...read my stuff?"

He looks back up at you, frowning slightly at the surprise. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asks. “You’re my soulmate.” It seems simple to him, he considered it research and at the time, he wanted to know why the fuck you seem like you thought you had some kind of moral upper hand.

"I guess," you swallow, embarrassed all over again. "I guess I've never really had high expectations for whatever relationship I might have with my soulmate. Nothing to do with you specifically. I just didn't hold out very high hopes."

That’s something Javi could relate to. He chuckles and shakes his head. “So we both weren’t looking forward to meet the ‘perfect match’ the universe chose for us, huh?”

"It doesn't sound like it." Another tick in the column of things that the girls had said you have in common. The irony certainly isn't lost on you. "But here we are."

“Soulmates were kind of ruined for me.” Javi figures you should at least know why he had been so unenthusiastic.

“How so?” Not all soulmate pairs are perfect. You know that. You’ve seen plenty of it in your own life. But it sounds like he has a very specific example of why he wasn’t looking forward to meeting his.

“I was engaged.” Javi figures you deserved to know. “Hell, I stood her up, didn’t go to the church.” He huffs slightly. “You ever meet someone and you’re told that they are perfect for you – they are what you are supposed to want – but there’s just something you can’t put your finger on?”

“Yeah,” you huff slightly, acknowledging your own memory even as you nod. “She lied to you about being your soulmate?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Told me that she was pregnant too, doubling down on the pressure for me to tie the knot.” He had felt sick and trapped, hating how he was being dragged along to this elaborate wedding that was supposed to be the talk of the town. It was, but not for the reasons Lorraine’s family had hoped for.

“Shit.” That takes some serious balls to go into, with lies that big, and you’re instantly furious with this woman for being so selfish.

“I got drunk and got the tattoo the night before the wedding.” He explains. “I was already upset my mother couldn’t be there, so the tattoo was a way to keep her with me.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip. “That morning— shit it was probably four-thirty? I was hungover and needed to talk to her. Figured I could get around that old wives’ tale about it being bad luck to see the bride of the sun wasn’t up yet.” He laughs at himself. “She was wearing’ these little red shorts. Tiny things that she honestly would have been better just not wearing anything to bed. But she didn’t have a tattoo.”

“Hell of a way to find out.” Instinctively, you reach across the table. Fingertips find fingertips and even though you only touch him for a second you try to offer some small comfort. “I’m so sorry. She sounds horribly selfish.”

Javi looks down at his hand and yours still just within reach. “I didn’t even confront her.” He admits. “Couldn’t think. Just left and went through the motions of getting ready to get married to a woman who had lied to me, who had manipulated me.” He shakes his head. “When we were driving to the church….I just drove by and kept going.”

“I can’t lie,” you swallow a laugh, not wanting to seem insensitive. “I would have made a scene. That bitch’s dirty deeds would have been smeared all over town.”

“It came out. But she was more humiliated, standing there waiting for me to show up when everyone was at the church.” He shrugs. “But if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be in the DEA.”

“You would have stayed home instead of joining?” It’s only in this moment that you realize you don’t even know where he’s from.

“I was a Webb County Sheriff’s deputy.” He tells you. “I took the job after college so I could take care of my mama. Lorraine wanted me to quit and go work for her dad, and I didn’t want to do that, but she probably would have gotten her way if we got married.”

“Webb County…” Running through the Rolodex of relatively trivial information in your head, it takes you a few seconds before you place the department but then your head pops up like you’ve won a prize. “You’re from Texas.”

“Laredo.” He confirms and he’s curious how you know that. “Although I don’t think that Texas has the only Webb county.”

“I’m sure they don’t.” You can agree to that right away. “But if I combine the fact that you specifically were a sheriff’s deputy it narrows down the number of states you could be from, and then cross-referenced with what’s left of your accent and the fact that there more than ten DEA field offices in Texas, including one in Webb County? It…it narrows it down.” Revealing how your mind skips around to make connections and your weirdly encyclopedic knowledge of certain aspects of government organization makes you fluster at the table and look away, assuming that he’ll find it uncomfortable or off putting like so many others do. It’s useful for your work to be able to do this sort of thing, but people tend to find it odd.

He tilts his head and studies you for a moment, impressed by the way that you filtered through the pieces of information to come to your – correct – answer. “Huh.” He muses. “Maybe I should come to you with information rather than the fucking CIA.”

“Journalism is also a way to utilize all the weird factoids in my head,” you admit, quietly pleased that he doesn’t immediately think you’re some freak of nature for the way your mind makes connections.

“It’s fighting through the bullshit useless information to put the pieces together that you need.” He nods. “You’re analytical, but compassionate. I can see that in your writing. You don’t twist the facts to your own personal bias.”

“My opinion has no place in the writing. If I wanted to do that I’d be writing OpEds or I could have stayed in the gossip columns where they wanted to keep me.” With both of your dinners finished, you nudge the empty container away and take your whiskey glass back in hand. Not necessarily to drink it, but for the comfort of holding it. “I’m sorry we didn’t talk like this weeks ago.”

“You didn’t like me.” He shrugs. “I don’t know if I would have liked me either, under the circumstances.” He snorts. “Hell, I barely like myself now.”

“I understand that feeling very well.” Your shrug matches his. “Maybe we’re every bit as alike as the girls said after all.”

“Look.” Javi leans back and searches his jeans pockets for his pack of cigarettes. “I’m not going to tell you we need to be together or whatever.” He pulls out the half-crushed pack and takes one, offering the pack to you. “You didn’t come down here to find love and I sure as hell didn’t.”

"But?" You prompt, hearing the word in his tone and accepting a cigarette gratefully. You always crave a smoke after a meal and it's nice to not have to explain that to the person you're eating with.

“But….” He takes a long drag off the cigarette and blows it out towards the ceiling. “It’s dangerous here for anyone going after Pablo.” He warns, glancing back at you. “There’s a bounty on my head.”

"It would be easy enough for anyone to think I'm going after him, too. My articles are about how Escobar is destroying the country and the people that he alleges he's fighting for." Sitting back in your seat, you take a matching drag of your own cigarette and exhale the smoke slowly afterward. "I'm not going to back off, if that's what you're implying."

“Didn’t think you would.” He admits. If the girls think you two are alike, then you would have a stubborn streak as wide as the Rio Grande.

"Alright." Trying not to sound as frustrated as you temporarily feel, you bring your head down and look forward at him again. "So I'm not going anywhere, and we've established that neither of us came here looking for some world-changing love story. Does that leave us as acquaintances? Friends? People who occasionally pass each other in the halls of the embassy and happen to share marks?"

“I don’t have those answers.” He admits, flicking the ashes into the empty take out container. “What’s your gut feeling?”

Without meaning to, you half-laugh and take another drag from your cigarette. "That we're both too stubborn," you admit on the exhale. "So we shouldn't decide anything, and just let life fall into place however it's going to."

He smirks slightly and tilts his head in acknowledgement. It’s a relief that you are on the same page he is. It makes the nagging guilt he’s had for wanting to see Vanessa and Freckles, subsequently why he’s stayed away, disappear. “So we sit on it.”

"Sit on it." There is a twist in your gut that is both guilt and relief. Not making it out to be more than just a fact of your lives is a relief, but the guilt that you maybe should hangs heavily on your shoulders. "Not bury it, and not shout about it. Just let it exist."

He lifts the rest of his drink in a salute before he tips it back. Swallowing it in one go and wondering why it doesn’t feel as good as it should.

******

Spending the night in the same guest room that you spent a week in while you were caring for Helena doesn't feel as odd as it could, but the intensity of knowing that your soulmate is sleeping right down the hall has you lying awake staring at the ceiling for more hours in the night than you would like to admit. It isn't until Chi-Chi leaves the doorway to climb into bed beside you that you find any sleep at all, but at least you can clock a few hours before sunrise starts to wake the block.

Javi rarely sleeps past five in the morning. Too acclimated to years on the ranch, needing to get up before school to feed livestock, clean out stalls or whatever his pop might need help with. Now it’s his body craving that cigarette he smokes as he takes that first, glorious piss of the day and then shuffles into the shower. Once he’s out, he realizes that he doesn’t have anything to do today, and it makes him ill, knowing he should already be raring to go to the scene – if he had even come home the night before. Now, he decides that maybe you’d might like some breakfast and he slips out of the apartment to run down to the market for some fresh fruits and see if Señora Rodriguez is selling those little pastries that he sometimes grabs.

Showering seems superfluous since you only have the same clothes to put on again afterward, but you go into the second bathroom you're accustomed to using to wash your face and wish you had your toothbrush. It's futile, but Javier was kind to let you stay last night when he didn't strictly have to. You'll go home and get out of his hair today if you can. The comfort lying low in your belly is knowing that the next time you run into him in the halls of the embassy, neither of you will flee or fight. For now all you can do is wander out to the kitchen, following the smell of coffee and cigarettes.

There are files spread on the kitchen table, a half-drunk cup of coffee and cigarette burning in the ashtray. He had waited to tear into the bag of pastries and fruit until you woke up and he’s proud of himself for that. He had even left a second coffee cup out for you to pour yourself a cup. “Morning.” He murmurs, still reading a CentraSpy report from two days ago.

"Morning." During the week of staying here you had paid attention only to Helena, and mostly hadn't even been speaking to Javier. So this sight is something of a surprise as you move to the coffee maker to pour yourself a cup. "You're an early riser."

“Raised on a ranch.” He glances up at you, watching your ass for a moment and trying to ignore the tug of lust in his belly before looking back down at the page. You didn’t want to hop into bed with him and he shouldn’t complicate things. “Mama would make you miss breakfast before you missed the bus for school.” He chuckles. “And your chores had better be done or you would get an earful when you got home.”

Small town. Texas. Sheriff's deputy. Ranch kid. The puzzle pieces of Javier Peña drop into place one by one. "Do you ever miss it?" You ask, bringing your coffee over to the table after you've fixed it. You don't mind sitting with your mug in your lap so he can keep his papers spread out everywhere. It's his space, after all.

He snorts. “If you had asked me that two years ago, I would have told you ‘fuck no’ so fast it would have knocked you over.” He reaches for his cup and sits back. “Now? It’s not as boring as I remember. Or maybe I’m just tired of the excitement of getting shot at here.”

"That's...fair, honestly." One half-glance at the papers around him tells you they're all about work, and you would be lying if you expressed any surprise at all. You're the same way. Always working, always composing in your head and stamping headlines on your life as you go about your day. "I bet even being a deputy would be a hell of a lot quieter than what you're doing now."

“Telling Mr. Johnson he can’t ride his fucking lawnmower to the liquor store. Cock blocking on the little lot where couples like to go to fuck.” He smirks. “Telling Mrs. Taylor that her husband was not abducted by aliens, he’s just a fucking prick. It was fucking cake.”

"Sounds like a retirement job." Not that you've really ever known anyone who retired. But it sounds like something that people say when they aren't raised scraping by every meal of every day. You're lucky as hell to be where you are now, and you know it.

“Yeah.” It was too boring for him at the time. That desire to do good and get the fuck out of town and away from the mess he caused with Lorraine, the DEA had come knocking and he couldn’t pack his bags fast enough.

"Maybe one day," you offer, going back to sipping your coffee.

"Maybe." He doubts it but he doesn't say that this job is dangerous enough that he will count his lucky stars if he gets out of Colombia alive.

"My Mom always says that if you don't think about what comes next, you'll give up on what's here right now." But he didn't ask for your family advice and you're not going to push it on him, so you offer him a small smile and reach for your first cigarette of the day. "Are you a breakfast person?"

"Been waiting on you." He nods towards the kitchen counter. "Picked those up this morning."

“You didn’t have to wait.” It’s sweet that he did, in a way that makes your chest tighten and think things you have to banish from your mind immediately, so instead you pop up from your chair and grab the bag to bring over to the table.

"Be rude to eat without you." He points out, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Is that that Southern hospitality I’ve heard so much about?” You set the bag down in the place he clears for it on the table and go back for two plates. Your cigarette is smoldering in the ashtray but you care less about that than whatever this morning patter is that the two of you have going. “We don’t have much of that where I’m from.”

"So why do you like it so much?" He asks, curious about your own history. "Where you're from."

“New Englanders are straightforward.” The bag has two arepas con huevos and two roscón — presumably one for each of you — and some assorted small cookies that are spiced and baked hard so they’re especially dunked in coffee. It’s a sweet gesture in more than one way, and you distribute the pastries evenly between you. “Everybody says what they mean, and sometimes they say shit things but then the same cranky ass old guys will turn around and give you the shirt off their back or the food off their table to help you.”

“You haven’t met many Texans, have you?” Javi snorts. “They are blunt, proud as fuck from being from Texas, but they also work together.” He shrugs. “Old man Sanchez had a heart attack in his field, crop of hay was going to go to ruin, so everyone met at his place and put up all the hay for winter for his herds while he was in the hospital.”

“Sounds like two groups cut from the same cloth.” Which is wholly a good thing in your book, and goes a big step to explain how you’re so similar coming from very different places. “You guys are the ranchers and we’re the fishermen.”

"Surf and turf." He chuckles slightly at his admittedly bad joke and shrugs. "We should open a restaurant."

“My father was a chef.” The morsel of information is offered up just like the food between you. “So it’s not a terrible idea.”

"Was?" He catches the phrasing and he wants to know more.

“He had a heart attack a couple a years ago.” Like you’re slipping into the memory, you stare at the pastry in your hand rather than at Javier. “Out on the fishing boat with my oldest brother. It was barely dawn and they had a haul to get in, so he ignored it. The second one he had, before dinner service that night, that’s what killed him.”

"I'm sorry." He really is. He knows how it squeezes your heart and doesn't let you breathe when you are swimming in grief so deep if feels like you are drowning. He sometimes thinks that it might have been because of his grief that he had ended up so lost in his relationship with Lorraine. He had been anchorless without his mother and she had swooped in and comforted him.

"Thank you." It means more coming from him because he knows exactly how much it hurts to lose a parent, giving you an odd and unwanted comradery in that way. "It's...pronounced. The things we have in common."

"Losing someone you love is shitty." He agrees.

"It does." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. So far these shared meals with Javier have been eye-opening, but not necessarily happy. The conversations tend to be more serious, which just might be the type of people you are. "I try not to let it overtake the other things, but it's not easy."

"Is that why you came to Colombia?" He asks, wondering if like him, you are running away. His own journey here had been a little longer, having to go through the academy and then his first post, but you are both here for a reason. "To escape?"

"Not consciously." Although now that he mentions it, there is a distinct possibility that that was an undercurrent in your decision making. "I fought for this assignment. My editor wanted somebody on the ground covering Escobar and I argued that every paper is reporting just on Escobar, but nobody is talking about the people in Colombia and how they're being affected by everything going on down here. How Escobar is ruining lives."

"It's a good angle" Javi shifts in his seat. "Some sing his praises, but they've never been touched by his violence."

"That was pretty much my point." And frankly, it's a comfort to know that it's coming across in your articles. "He might be doing good for some people on the surface here. Handing out money, claiming he's working for the people when he tries to run for office. But the fact is that he's hurting more than he's helping. And the hurt is spreading worldwide."

Javi snorts. "They don't fucking care though." He is bitter about that. "It's a fucking party favor to them. Something to experiment with and cut on a mirror in the big house that they are partying in. They don't see the fucking twelve-year-old overdosing on the street or the workers that have outlived their usefulness, rotting in the goddamn jungle."

"I know." You nod solemnly. "That's why I'm writing about it."

He watches you, his respect for you growing even more. After a moment, he nods. "Then it's a good thing you're here."

******

He wouldn't let you go back to your building alone. Something about wanting to make sure it was safe, but you couldn't really hear him over the blood pounding in your ears when he held open the door for you like some kind of fucking gentleman. Southern. You remind yourself, fully ready to reprimand your own stupidity into submission. It means nothing. It's just good manners.

But when he pulled up outside the club a half an hour later, you were suddenly very glad that he had insisted on coming with you. Chi-Chi growled low in the backseat, seeing so many men around the building, but you reached back and shushed her with some gentle pets that once again thanked her for somehow not spending all night making the same noise at Javier. The policemen outside were all busy and some of the club windows had been shot out, but all of it was taped off to prevent people from coming inside.

"Shit..." you murmur, sitting back in the passenger's seat as you slowly process the fact that you can't go home yet.

Javier frowns as he throws his Jeep into park. There's Steve, camera in his hands as he takes photos of a body laying outside the club. "Shit." He hisses, knowing there is no way he can poke around without being seen.

"Go around the block and park on the next street down," you tell him, annoyed that this day has taken an inconvenient turn. "I'll sneak in through the side door and grab some of my stuff. Enough to last me a few days at a hotel, at least." It was enough that you showed up at his place last night unannounced after having been there another week previous to that. You're not going to invade his space anymore.

He furrows his brow and shakes his head. "You don't have to stay in a hotel." He protests, not happy about you being in some hotel. Even if he's not got any right to tell you what to do. "Unless you'd rather have some space besides my guest room?"

"I don't mind your place." If you were being totally honest with him, not feeling isolated or alone is a lot better for you. Even with Inez in the next apartment over, living on your own had been lonely. "I just don't want to put you out."

"Because I spend so much time in my spare bedroom." He rolls his eyes at you sarcastically and frowns again. "Use it." He urges you. "You don't have to waste your money on a hotel." He shrugs, knowing that he sounds a little overprotective. "After all, it's because of my team that your apartment is now a crime scene."

"Why don't you and Chi-Chi stay in the car and I'll pack up some things quickly." If he's offering, you won't turn down a free place to stay. You'll do your part and keep the place clean so he barely recognizes you're even there except for putting a little food in his fridge now and then. "I guarantee my landlady is still with her son. I can drop our four-legged friend off to her later today."

"No." He shakes his head, knowing that someone could stop you from entering. Plus he can get a quick look to see if anyone important was taken out. "I'll come with you."

You raise one discerning eyebrow at him and motion to the backseat. "That means all three of us have to go in. You think you can sneak Scooby Doo's sister over here past all those cops?"

"Not going to sneak her in anywhere." Javi smirks and looks back at the dog. "She's going to go to work with me. Aren't ya, girl?"

For perhaps the first time in her life, Chi-Chi awoos softly for a man instead of for any of her usually preferred female companions.

"Well hell," you snort, shaking your head at both of them. "I guess that's a yes."

It takes a minute to get her out of the car and her leash unwound from her body. Then there are the two minutes that she has to sniff around the side door where she normally comes outside to pee and takes a squat while Javier smokes a cigarette.

It's ridiculous to watch, as the large and normally fearsome guard dog trots happily at Javier's side, but one intrusive thought breaks through the others and you snort under your breath in amusement as Chi-Chi indicates she's ready to go again. "I was right," you point out, smirking at Javier when you pull out your key to the building's back door. "All women really do roll over for you."

He rolls his eyes and huffs at you. Pursing his lips and murmuring a curse. "Shut up." He manages, although it's not exactly vehement. "Do you want me to come up with you?" He doubts anyone has ventured upstairs, but he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable.

"Might as well," you nod toward the stairs, letting the warmth of friendly teasing instead of annoyed barbs warm through you. "My living room has that good view of the front of the building and approaching street that you knew Alex was using."

"We were watching to club." Javier admits. "Saw the fucker there. The bartender giving him your note."

"I kind of figured." Climbing the stairs quickly, you reach your floor as quietly as you can and turn back to make sure you don't lose Javier on the stairs. "Otherwise how could you have actually gotten the note? It's not like the CIA and DEA cooperate. Even I know that."

He smirks, not at all embarrassed about stealing that fucker's note. "For a spook, he's shit at keeping track of things." He huffs.

"He was probably distracted." At your door, you scratch Chi-Chi's head and fit your key in the lock to shove it open. "I've been thinking about it ever since you pointed it out, and I think he went in with the intention of actually hitting on Inez."

"And he found you instead?" He asks, wondering what you saw in that schmuck. Granted he was tall, blonde, classically handsome. Everything he was not. Maybe your preference was completely different than the soulmate the universe gave you.

Pushing into your apartment, you shrug sheepishly and drop your purse on the table by the door to let him in behind you. "I was lonely," you admit, not feeling particularly proud about it.

"That happens." He knows that firsthand. He looks around the apartment curiously, eager to get an inside view of your life.

"I'll grab some clothes and stuff. Chi-Chi's allowed on my furniture, so she'll probably go sit on the couch if you let her off leash." He'll poke and prod. That's fine with you. It's what you would do if you were him – yet another similarity between you to note.

"Take your time." He moves over to the window and looks out, a little irritated that it was indeed a good fucking view. Pissed that he hadn't thought of that before Alex had.

You disappear into your room, glad that you had just done a big load of laundry after returning from Javier's place the first time and that you had neatly put everything away. It made it a hell of a lot easier to simply remove stacks of clothes from your dresser and pile them up in the one small suitcase you had arrived to Colombia with. After having been here for a little while you had accumulated a few more things, but most of them can just stay put. Your toiletries go into a bag to be packed away, and your work has its own tote bag. At least your typewriter was already packed up in its case. That saves you some time.

Your space is neat, not too many personal things, although he picks up a framed photo of what must be your family. “Nice looking family.” He murmurs to himself, the photo obviously taken before your father passed.

"My parents' thirtieth wedding anniversary," you tell him, knowing what photo he's looking at. "My Mom, my two older brothers, then me and my Dad. We're all dressed up because my aunt and uncle insisted on throwing them an anniversary party."

“It’s nice.” You look happy, beaming from the photo. “Soulmates?”

"Yeah." When you come out of your room, you're toting a full suitcase and heading for your work things on the coffee table. "They met at the beach. My Mom was out with her girlfriends one day when she was twenty and they started catcalling this group of guys down the other side of the sand." The memory of the story makes you crack a smile. "Reverse of the usual situation, but my mother isn't a shy woman. We used to go back to that beach every single summer. Usually three or four times a summer if we could manage it between everybody's work and sports and camp and everything else."

He laughs at the mental image and smirks. “Most men actually like it when a woman hits on them.” He agrees. “It’s nice to be chased every now and again.”

"Yeah..." It makes your cheeks burn to remember the times in your life you've attempted it – and how the one time it didn't go terribly wrong it was a CIA douchebag who didn't even reciprocate your interest in any real way. "I guess I just...never understood a lot of it. But my Mom is drop dead gorgeous even after three kids, so more power to her, I guess."

Javi studies the picture again. “Yeah, you look just like her.” He murmurs offhand.

“Except…not.” You wave one hand at yourself and shake your head, going back to stuffing your work things into their tote bag.

He frowns down at the picture sighs, not liking that you just wave off his compliment. But you aren’t really his problem to tackle. “I’m going to go downstairs.” He calls out.

“I’ll be down in a few.” Seeing that it’s flashing, you push the button on your answering machine to listen to your message while you get the last of your things squared away.

Javi reclips the leash and hurries down the stairs as Chi-Chi half drags him down. Chuckling to himself when the large dog growls softly at the crunch of glass under boots. "It's okay, girl." he soothes when he is standing by her in the small hallway that connects the apartments to the club.

“Hi mija.” The message is from your landlady, who sounds tired and shaken. “I am sorry for the short notice, but if you are listening to this you will know that the police have control of our building. We cannot return until they release it, and since you were kind enough to take Chi-Chi – thank you for your call otherwise I would have worried – mijita I am too old to be running that place anymore. I’m selling it, honey, I’m sorry. If you need help finding a new place to live, let me know. I will give you a wonderful reference. Call me at my son’s when you get this.”

“Fuck.” You groan out loud, looking around you and realizing that you need to pack up more than just a few days’ worth of things. It’s going to take you a hell of a lot more than a few minutes to get this all squared away, but there’s nothing you can do about that.

Almost a full half hour later you’re dragging things downstairs, including a plastic container of Chi-Chi’s food and treats, and a bag of her toys along with all your own stuff. “Bad news,” you tell Javier, when he looks at you with confusion.

"Are you moving in?" Javi half jokes, half wonders what the hell you had in the bags. It looks like a hell of a lot more than what you had brought when you were taking care of Helena.

“My landlady got spooked by the cops and all the agents crawling everywhere and she’s selling the building. I’m gonna have to find a new place.” It makes you wonder where the hell Inez is going to go since this place was her home and her work, but you’ll call her later to check in. After you call Señora Perrín about getting back this month’s rent since you haven’t even been in the place for more than a few days this month. “I’ll call her tonight about returning Chi-Chi to her and I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can. I’m sure the last thing you want is roommates.”

It's a surprise, Javi sighing and looking around the area. "Shit." He hisses. "I'm sorry." He is. Feeling like this is also his fault. Maybe if he had been involved with the SearchBloc raid, there might have been less bloodshed.

“It’s not your fault.” He’s the last person you blame. After all, he wasn’t here last night. His partner might get a piece of your mind, though. “Guess I just became fodder for my own column.”

He snorts. "Another victim." He agrees. "This time because of us instead of Escobar." He doesn't tell you that you can just live with him. That would be too much. For both of you.

“We should get out of here.” It feels intrusive to be here now, but it feels intrusive to know you’re now going back to his apartment with no idea of when you’ll be able to leave. The whole thing is uncomfortable and grating and you don’t like not knowing what the next step is.

"Is that all you have?" He moves to take some of the bags from you, happy that he has a vehicle that can hold more than the little box car you drive. That thing is a rolling hazard.

“In this country?” You nod, reluctantly letting him take some things from your arms. “It was a furnished apartment, that’s why I took the place. This is all my shit, plus some things for Bogotá’s best guard doggy.”

"Okay." He nods and moves to the door, pushing outside to hold the door opened for you. "Then let’s get you back to the apartment so you can get settled."

“Javier, I—” He doesn’t question it. Doesn’t hem or haw. Doesn’t even hesitate. And suddenly your father’s favorite words of wisdom float to the top of your mind, about how your soulmate comes into your life when you need them most. You have no idea how true that is, Dad.

“Thank you,” you say finally, offering him a grateful smile.

Javi nods, always having a hard time accepting thanks and whistles for Chi-Chi to stop sniffing the side of the building when you walk out. "We'll stop at the market on the way home." He offers. "I know you'd rather have some food in the fridge."

“That will work.” Loading up the car together, you get Chi-Chi settled and give her a treat for being so good. Somewhere in the back of your mind you fear there is a strong possibility of her spending at least one more night with you so you would prefer her to be happy. Once everything is inside and you’re buckling your seatbelts, you turn to look at Javier again. “Give it some thought and let me know what you think a fair number for rent would be. Since I’m basically subletting your guest room now, until I find a new place.”

Javi grunts, knowing that he won't take money for you using his room. He's not that kind of person and he already pays well below market value for his apartment. Instead, he starts the Jeep and throws it into gear. He had managed to get an overall view of the scene, so he's happy. "You know what we need to get?"

“At the market? Yeah.” There are a good handful of meals you can make easily and well, and those ingredients aren’t hard to come by. But as the child of a career cook, you know your way around a kitchen. At least you can cook some decent meals for Javier as a thank you.

"Sorry I don't keep much there." He huffs. "Honestly, I'm not home much."

“Don’t worry about it. Youngest kid of a chef, remember?” That grateful smile still tugs at your lips. “I do about half my work at home and I’m a fair cook.”

He nods, not as upset about you staying as he ever imagined he would be. He had resisted living with Lorraine before the wedding and he's never actually had a roommate unless his parents counted, which they didn't. If he wanted to go see Freckles or Vanessa, he would just go to them, but maybe he would find another girl.

One that you hadn't also slept with.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06

[teecupangel]

Imagine Desmond being born as a Targaryen. Our resident go with flow guy being born into the family physically incapable of not creating drama. And this could work both in hotd and got.

Maybe he can be reborn as Viserys and Daemon's youngest brother? Who was the realm's delight before Rhaenyra was born, becuase he doesnt want to deal with the hastle of politics so he just tries to fade into the background.

But utterly fails becuase since his brothers have a favorite and its him, they just decide to spoil him constantly, even when they become adults and even if a rift started forming between Viserys and Daemon, they're still really close to Desmond.

And as the plot progresses, he just keeps on accidentally derailing otto hightower's plans. Marry your daughter to make her queen? Nope, becuase the king is probably in love with his brother. Try to make the king distrust his brothers even more so that you can have more influence? Nope, becuase Desmond basically makes sure Daemon isnt as deranged as he should be, and Viserys actually focus on the realm. Assassinate the lords in your way? Apparently, theres already an assassin cult which nearly kills you first.

Desmond gets a cult and creates his own brotherhood. And maybe its becuase a few certain ancestors arrived with him

Since you focused on Desmond being reborn as Viserys and Daemon’s youngest brother, we’ll go with that.

Desmond wanted to create a Brotherhood because, dear god, this world put the crap in crapsack and then add more shit in it. Desmond wasn’t sure what was worse. The undeniable madness that plagued his blood, the growing division between the nobles and commoners or…

How even the fact that he doesn’t want any claim to the throne and would rather disown himself just so people understand that he doesn’t want anything to do with that painful looking throne figuratively and literally has not dissuade people from thinking he’s the best to be put on the throne because either (1) the best ruler is one who doesn’t want to rule or (2) his lack of ambition makes them think he’s easier to puppet.

Honestly, Desmond would have cleaned his hands off all of this family drama if he could… buuttttt…

He knew his brothers would hunt and pillage the seven kingdoms just to find him so it was better for everyone if they knew where he was.

Desmond became the sole user of ‘wake up man’ among the Targaryens and he had a feeling this was their stupid father’s last resort.

Why else would be allow Desmond to not take a wife as long as he remained a Targaryen.

For some reason, Desmond even feels that their father has a hand on why his brothers seemed to love him more than they should.

So really, creating the Brotherhood was both his way of trying to help the people of Westeros as well as to get a ‘hobby’ to keep himself safe.

How the fuck was the supposed to know that his Brotherhood would turn into a cult worshiping him and doing all his bidding because they believe that he was god given mortal form and his word is law.

There is something absolutely wrong with this world and Desmond is trying his best to keep his own sanity even when every other people in this goddamn world is more than happy to fuck with him.

Things get even weirder when the first three Assassin masters he’d nurtured began expressing their annoyance for Desmond’s brothers because Desmond belongs to them.

At this point, Desmond was just hoping that by ‘belong’ they mean like ‘Desmond is our parental figure and we’re his real family’.

Hell, he’d even take ‘Desmond belongs to the Brotherhood and should be with us’ at this point.

Then again…

Looking at the very noticeable marriage trend the House he was born into practices and how his brothers have made it clear that they’re only willing to share Desmond with each other…

Desmond was fucked.

He was absolutely fucked.

Aquila, my dear dragon, you’re the only san- No! Don’t eat that arm- Fuuuuuuuuu-

[awriterinthenight]

10 Things I Hate About You-Luke Castellan Au, Part 1

words: 1223

warnings: language, uhhhh I don't know about anything else, but I will add new ones for new chapters. This is mostly just the set up, more of the plot will be in the next chapter, and I kept the last name Stratford and made the sister's name Bianca cause it was easier than creating new names, plus I really liked sticking those names cause I love the movie

summary: 10 Thing I Hate About You au with Luke Castellan. Chris a new camper comes into the Hermes cabin and him and the Stolls are on a mission to get you to allow your sister Bianca to date, and who else besides Luke Castellan would be willing to do it.

The Stratford sisters were known for being off limits. They were also quite the anomaly, having two different dads, but the same mom. Usually one god had one kid with one mortal then bounced, leaving them on their own. But not the Stratford sisters. The older one Y/N was a child of Hades, while the younger one, Bianca, was a child of Apollo. Quite the opposites, but they were everything to each other.

But the other thing was that neither of them dated. Ever. Y/N just wasn't into people, and would rather eat rocks than date "the unwashed miscreants" (in her words) at camp. Bianca was longing to go out with a guy, but her sister didn't let her since she didn't trust anyone, and her sister followed her rule, not wanting to disrespect her.

Y/N knew this rule wasn't the best, but she'd rather have her sister be annoyed at her than have her dating some guy that treated her like shit. No one was able to date either of them no matter how hard they tried. Y/N was rather rude to people and annoyed, so no one wanted to be near her let alone date her, but everyone wanted Bianca.

***

When Chris arrived at camp he was claimed as a Hermes kid, and quickly introduced to the Stoll brothers who showed him around.

"Hi, I'm Chriss, Chiron said you would show me around," he greeted, a but nervous.

They nodded, ushering him out of the cabin, "Yup, that's our job. I'm Connor, this is my older brother Travis," he said, introducing him and his brother.

Chris nodded following the brothers on the tour around camp. "Alright to break it down, over here is the Big Three, Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, but there's only a couple of those kids, and I advise you to avoid the Hades kid," he said, pointing out each cabin. Now he started pointing at groups of people and some cabins, "Those are the Aphrodite kids, don't talk to them unless they talk to you first," Connor warns.

"Is that their rule or yours?" Chris asks out of curiosity.

Connor sighs saying, "Watch," now turning towards the Aphrodite kids, "How's it going."

Which just got him a lot of dirty looks and side eyes, and some rude replies.

"Bite me."

"Ugh, as if."

Travis put his hand on Chris' shoulder, "See what I tell you. Alright over here we have the Demeter kids. Super into plants and the environment, but mostly they-" Travis says, before getting cut off.

"Smoke a lot of weed," Chris finishes.

Connor nods, "Yes. Now here's Clarisse and the Ares kids, now unless you want your ass handed to you I advise that you stay away. Hephaestus kids, mostly dweebs, but they're rather nice people. The Dionysus kids are drink snobs, only drink artisanal shit, you know that type," he says, moving towards a table of people.

"Hey guys, how's it going," he says, but everyone just closes their books and turns away from him. Sighing, Connor turns away from them and back towards Chris.

"We pull one prank and suddenly they hate us," Travis says, his arms crossed. Chris had stopped paying attention when he saw Bianca walk by.

"I pine, I burn, I perish," he said, looking at her in amazement.

Connor shakes his head at Chris' antics, "Nope, sorry she's off limits. It's well known the Stratford sisters don't date, especially her," Connor explains, having to close Chris' jaw for him.

Chris stumbles over his words, before getting out, "Wha- what do you mean she doesn't date," he asks confused. How could someone like her not date?

"Her sister is a bit whacked, she won't let her date. Plus, she's not as deep as you think she is, listen," he says, moving Chris to hear Bianca's conversation.

"See there's a difference between love and love. I like my yellow converse, but I love my Tiffany bracelet," she explains to her friend.

"But, I love my Converse too," her friend says, a bit bubbly and confused.

Bianca shrugs, "Well that's cause you don't have a Tiffany bracelet," she says, a bit bluntly.

The Stolls steer Chris away from Bianca, "See you have no chance, sorry to break it to you, but put her away in your fantasies and say goodbye," Travis says, patting Chris' shoulder.

"No you're wrong. Well not about the fantasies part, but I can have a chance," Chris says, trying to hype him and the brothers up.

Connor sighs saying, "Alright you can try. She's looking for a Latin tutor if that helps."

"That's perfect," Chris exclaims.

The brothers give him a weird look, "You speak Latin?" they ask, confused since not many people know Latin.

"Well no, but I will," Chris says, excited that he might have a chance with Bianca.

***

1st Person Y/N

I was at sword fighting practice led by one of the Ares counselors.

"Alright I want everyone to partner up and try what I just demonstrated," he says, letting everyone off to practice.

I roll my eyes, "I wish he'd actually teach us something besides the same two defenses," I complain, getting into a fighting stance.

Unfortunately he overheard me, "What did you say?" he asked, annoyed by my presence in general.

I scoff, "I said, why can't we learn something useful? We learn the same two skills basically every week," I tell him.

Before he can tell me off, Luke walks into the lesson asking, "So what did I miss?"

"This asshole is not teaching us anything new," I complain, annoyed by both of them.

"Great, keep up the good work," he says, before running off.

"Hey, get back here," he yells at Luke, "Whatever, you can go to Chiron if you have a problem," he tells me.

I roll my eyes, picking up my bag and sword, "Sure, whatever," I say, leaving the arena.

***

3rd person

It was the end of the day and everyone was heading to dinner. Chris was watching Bianca walk to dinner with her siblings, and some Ares kid was doing the same, but in a more lustful way.

"That's out of reach even for you, Joey," one of his friends said.

Joey just shook his head, "No one's out of reach for me," Joey said, rather confidently.

"You wanna put money on that?" his friend asked, wanting to make a bet.

"Nah, this I'm gonna do for fun," he said, scheming a plan.

Joey walked up to Bianca and her friend, putting his arms around them. Connor was walking with Chris and wasn't paying attention when he walked right into Y/N.

"Remove head from sphincter, then walk," she said, aggravated at Connor's lack of surroundings. She walked off with her friend Eva from the Iris cabin.

Chris ran over to Connor asking, "Hey, you okay?"

Connor nodded, "Yeah, just a minor encounter with the shrew," he said bitterly, "That's your girlfriend's sister."

"Sister? But aren't they in different cabins?" Chris asked, confused.

Connor nodded, "Yeah, but they have the same mom, it's a whole thing. Don't worry about it," Connor said, walking off towards dinner. Unfortunately for him, he tripped and ended up rolling down a hill. But, he was okay and stood up, spreading his arms out in victory of surviving.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 1

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. 

Chapter Summary: You are sick of seeing Steve striking out, so you come up with a solution that could work for both of you.

5.5k words

Tags: Eddie Muson x reader, weirdo!reader, bestfriend!Steve

You hadn’t planned on becoming friends with Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington. In your mind, he was still that cocky freshman who happened to be good at playing Basketball during your senior year of high school. You’d never paid much attention to sports or the popular crowd back at Hawkins High, but word had quickly spread about the new kid. 

When Steve and Robin approached you to help hook them up with a job at Family Video you were skeptical at first. Robin was a no-brainer when it came to hiring. She had the experience and clearly knew her stuff when it came to movies. Steve you were more on the fence about, as he seemed less cinematically inclined but Robin had vouched for him, and you were tired of having to cover so many of Keith’s shifts. Even when he was here, Keith was basically useless, always hiding in the back. 

At this point, you were desperate for any sort of help, so you hired them both. 

You quickly took a liking to them- they were easy to hang out with and were able to quickly pick up on what needed to be done. Robin always knew what movies to show on the preview televisions, and Steve was quick to pick up on any busy work that needed to get done. 

“I’m always willing to go the extra mile to slack off.” he’d said once, which had earned your approval. As long as shit got done, they could slack off all they wanted. You hated that ‘if you have time to lean, you have time to clean’ bullshit. It’s not like the job was especially hard either. 

Eventually you and Steve started talking on the nights where the two of you would close together alone. Tuesday and Wednesday nights were good for that sort of thing, they were your slowest days. You learned that he was floundering a bit after high school, struggling to find a place in the world now that he was no longer King Steve. It was also clear by the way he talked that he was still hung up on his ex Nancy, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

That was probably the reason why he kept striking out when flirting with customers. It was actually kind of sad. 

“You know, I really should probably tell you to stop hitting on every cute girl that walks through that door.” you said, taking out some tapes from the VHS re-winder and putting in new ones. “People come here for movies, not to be hit on.”

It was a speech you’d given at least a dozen times over the past four months. You’d said it so many times that Steve was mouthing along the words as you said them, and you gave his arm a smack. Your heart wasn’t in it though, in truth you knew that at least half of the young women who came to Family Video were here to see Steve and flirt, which is why you were so baffled that he was striking out so hard. 

He was good with customers, great even. When he first started working here he would get several numbers slipped to him between returned VHS tapes. But as the Summer months shifted into Autumn, he seemed to be running out of steam. 

“I can’t help it if I’m naturally charming.” Steve said, with over-compensated confidence. “I don’t even need to think, I’m just that good at flirting.”

“Yeah, I think your charisma stat has taken a hit over these past few weeks dude.” you snorted.

“I still don’t know what that means.” Steve said. “But I have plenty of charisma!”

“You know, if you actually paid attention to what me or your children said every once in a while you’d understand us better.” You couldn’t help but laugh. Over the past few months, so many freshman had come in just to bother Steve while he was working. “How is the single mom life by the way? Am I giving you enough hours to pay the bills? Do the kids need new shoes for school?”

“I’m not the mom, I’m the babysitter.” Steve shot back, before realizing how lame that actually was then he sighed. “I think they’re doing okay. Henderson’s the only one who actively keeps up with me.”

You didn’t miss the hint of disappointment in his voice. “It’s hard when they grow up.” you said, putting your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they won’t put you in a home.”

Steve snorted and brushed your hand off. “Says the one older than me.” he rolled his eyes. 

“See, I don’t have six kids to raise, so I’m going to stay young and fun forever, Harrington.” you teased. “You’ve got a full brood to look after. Oh look, I think I see a gray hair right there!” 

You reached over to touch his hair and he swatted you away again. “Like hell there is!” he said, mild panic in his voice. You didn’t let up and kept reaching for his hair and he kept pushing you off. 

“Yup, that’s a gray one, you’re about to go full Doc Brown on me before the end of the year!” You declare as he attempted to push you off. 

Despite him trying to push you off, there was a smile on his face. A lot of nights ended like this with you annoying him and teasing him for his relationship with so many kids. It was endearing really. 

The door to the front of the store rang and you two immediately jumped apart as a girl came in, looking to be about Steve’s age. She was pretty, and you slipped out from behind the desk to put away some movies. He really shouldn’t be flirting with the customers, you know this. But... well it was Tuesday night and you were bored and this was far more entertaining than reorganizing the movies in the back room. Less sticky too. 

“Action!” You heard Steve call from up front and you moved casually between the aisles and cringed. Oh, no. He was doing the bit again. How many times have you told him that it wouldn’t work? “Oh, I’m sorry you’re so beautiful I thought you were an actress.”

You had to bite your hand to stop yourself from laughing. You couldn’t handle this, this didn’t work the first dozen times, why the hell would it work now? Steve’s voice carried easily, projecting around the video store and allowing you to hear every single word that came out of his mouth.

You listened as Steve threw everything at this poor girl. Talking himself up as some sort of cinema aficionado when you knew the last movie he rented was Star Wars for the third time to watch with Dustin. And he called you the nerd. 

“So yeah, I was thinking, beautiful girl like yourself might enjoy watching this movie with some company.” Steve said, handing over the movie. The girl in question gave a polite smile and declined the movie, renting the two that she had actually came for and left. 

“That... was sad, Steve.” you said, as she disappeared into the parking lot. You walked over to the counter and picked up the movie that Steve had tried to offer her. “‘The Karate Kid?’ Really? That was your big plan?” 

Steve’s was leaning over the desk, bracing his hands against the side of the counter looking down. “I panicked ok?” he admitted. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I used to be so good at getting any girl I wanted and now I keep blowing it.”

You felt for the guy, you really did. He’d gone from the top of the world to treading water in just a few short months. Steve had told you that he had been at Starcourt Mall the day of the fire, and you had a feeling that it affected him more than he let on. You’d seen him get rejected so many times, but he was always able to brush it off. This time it looked personal. 

Well, he was your friend now, and as your friend it was up to you to help him out. 

“I think you need to learn how to talk to women now that you’re not in high school anymore, Steve.” you said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “The tactics you used before just aren’t going to cut it now. Welcome to “life after high school” where everything you learned over the past twelve years is socially useless.” 

“Yeah? And what would you know about social skills?” Steve said. “I haven’t exactly seen you going on any dates lately either.” 

“Rude, but fair.” you admitted. He didn’t mean anything mean by it, but the two of you were very much opposites when it came to how you both approached things such as your social and dating life. 

Steve was interested in taking any pretty face he saw out on a date. You had not been on a date in months, and had barely tried. Steve had countless tales about his time dating in high school, you went to Homecoming stag with your friends once. Steve talked about a time where he was almost having too much sex. You shamelessly rented porn from the back room and made Steve ring you up as he rolled his eyes. 

He’d asked you on a date once and you almost laughed in his face. He was good looking, in a traditional sense but not your type.After thinking about it, you decided that kissing Steve sounded too much like kissing your favorite cousin. You had politely declined and he seemed relieved. 

It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in dating, you did. You had tried to explain it to Steve one night, that so many people were into being popular and caring about things that you just couldn’t. You’d tried to fit in, but your interests were just weird. You could have fun at a football game if you were with friends, but that came from the excitement of being in an excited crowd and being with people you liked. You didn’t blame anyone for it, you were glad that people could care about these things. You just wished someone could get excited about the same things that you did. 

You and Steve were both fish out of water, you’d just grown used to not being able to breathe. 

“Sorry.” said Steve, standing up straight again. “That was below the belt.”

“You’re a dick, but it’s fine.”  you shrugged. You’d been called worse for less. “You know, I may not be the pinnacle of normalcy but I do happen to be a woman.”

“I thought you said you were the Creature from the Black Lagoon.” Steve laughed under his breath. 

“Only on special occasions.” you replied. “But that’s not the point. Look, you need help getting your groove back. I’m tired of renting movies from the back. I think we could help each other.”

Steve turned to you, brows furrowed. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I’m thinking we could try wing-manning for each other.” you said. “I’ll talk you up and help you not make a jackass out of yourself, and you can help me get a date too.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something smart, but he closed it quickly with a tilt of his head. He looked to the side, thinking about the proposal. 

“You can’t do any worse with my help.” you said. “I mean, that ‘actress’ line was bad. Really bad. Like, horrible. I don’t know why you keep using it.”

“It worked with Linda Mendelli.” Steve said defensively. 

“Yeah, I have no idea who that is.” you said. 

“She got the lead in the spring musical two years ago.” 

“So your actress line worked on a high school actress once.” you laughed. “That explains everything.”

“Like you could come up with a better line!” Steve pouted. 

“I can think of a million different lines that would work better than that. And I’ll share them with you, if we have a deal.” you said. 

“So you want me to get you a date?” he clarified. “That’s what you want out of this?”

“That’s what I get out of this. Well, that and I can stop nearly puking when I have to listen to you come up with some weird line when a cute girl walks in. It would save me a lot of money on nausea medication.” You smirked. 

Steve thought about it for a moment before looking you up and down. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re already not interested in changing anything about yourself to make this easier on me.”

“Again, that’s really rude. That is correct though, you get me a date as I am. No make-over montage, no pretending I’m something I’m not. I spent all of high school trying to be something else, and I’m done with that.” you said firmly. 

Steve turned away from you, ran his fingers through his hair, and then turned back, offering his hand. “Fine, you have a deal.” 

With a smile, you spat in your hand and grabbed his in a firm shake. “Deal.”

“Ew!” he jerked his hand back as you laughed. Steve wiped his hand on his pants looking disgusted. “That’s so gross, you really are giving me a run for my money.”

“Right then,” you said with an amused grin. “Let’s start with lesson one, and stop with any stupid pick-up lines to get attention.”

Over the next few weeks, in the slow times during work where there was nothing to do but dust the shelves and rewind tapes, you coached Steve on how to talk to women. 

“It’s really not that hard.” you explained one night. “It really does come down to just two things; be sincere and be confident. You already have probably too much confidence coming out your ass, but the sincerity isn’t there. You keep throwing these random lines out and hoping something sticks. Fine, that works in high school but not anymore.”

“I’m always sincere about asking them on a date!” he protests. “I’m not just asking every girl I see out on a date!”

“That’s statistically incorrect but I’ll humor you.” you said, as you organized the candy shelf, restocking the skittles. “I believe it when you ask a girl out, but you’re so oblivious about them as people. Newsflash, not all girls are the same Harrington.”

“Yeah, some of them are you.” he said, leaning against the counter, having already given up on pretending to work for the night. “How many times have you seen that Rocky Horror movie now?”

“I see it once a month with my friends at the old Cenimaplex right outside town. Been doing that since I was eighteen.” you confirmed. “I’m hoping to get to be part of the shadow cast at some point.” 

“See? That’s weird. Most people maybe go see it once in October.” Steve points out. 

“We aren’t talking about me, Harrington. We’re talking about the type of girls you’re into. Also, don’t knock it. I plan on dragging you along this month. It’s about time you lose your virginity.” you smirked as you ripped open a box of snickers and handed him one. “Don’t tell Keith.”

He took the candy bar. “You know I’m not a virgin. I have had sex before you know.” 

You shook your head, that’d be a conversation for another day. “Let’s get back to the point. You keep asking girls out but you don’t know them.”

“I get to know them when I’m on a date.” he said. 

“That’s all well and good, but you need to be able to see what kind of person they are before you go on the date. Not everyone is like me and wears their personality on their sleeves.” you explained, taking your own candy of choice off the rack. “Okay so today for example. Remember the girl that came in with the brown hair and rented out Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure?” Steve nodded. “So, she also rented out The Breakfast Club.”

“Okay? And what does that have to do with anything?” Steve asked. 

“It means she has a kid sibling, and is probably a burnt out older sibling.” you said. “Loves her baby brother or sister but is also very introspective and trying to figure herself out. You came on too strong with her, asking her to a high school basketball game was too high energy.” 

Steve gawked at you for a moment. “I hate that you just made sense.” He rubbed his cheeks with his hands. “Shit.” 

“Dude, just pay attention to whoever you’re interested in and all the pieces will fall in place.” you said. “Pay attention to the movies, what she’s saying, and if she’s giggling at you then that’s a good sign.” 

“Pay attention. Right. I can do this.” he said. 

Two weeks after this conversation, Steve nabbed his first date in two months. It had taken a little bit of coaching and some hyping on your end but he got a girls number and had set up a date. 

Three days after that he had another date set up. 

Two days after that, another three dates. 

It was the start of October now, and you were decorating the store for the season. You were standing on a ladder putting up a strand of black garland while Steve held the ladder. 

“So I’m taking Shannon out on Tuesday to get ice cream at the new place down the street.” Steve explained. 

“We work Tuesday.” you said. 

“Tuesday morning.” Steve clarified. “Then Thursday I have two dates with Amy and Marissa since it’s my day off.” 

He’d been going on about this for an hour. Steve had been going on dates steadily again for at least three weeks now. It had only been a little over a month that the two of you had agreed to the deal. Now King Steve was back, and you were now subject to every detail of his romantic escapades again. You were happy for your friend, really, but sometimes you’d sneak into the back room and organize the porn just to give you a moment away from hearing about your friends new-found sex life. 

It didn’t need to make sense, it just needed to work. 

“Do you ever stop to sleep?” you asked, taping up the final end of garland and coming back down the ladder. 

“Sometimes I sleep before I have to sneak out a window after I’ve-”

“Nope. No more words, Harrington.” you said, holding up a hand as he laughed. “I get it, I’ll give you more hours so that you can expand your condom budget. Your poor kids must feel neglected while you find them a new mom.”

“I thought you said that I was the single mom?” Steve asked as you both moved the ladder to a new spot. He handed you a bat from the box that held the Halloween decorations. 

“Oh, you are. Your kids can have two moms, I’ll allow it.” you said, hopping up on the ladder again. “Hey look, I’m Ozzie Osbourn!” 

Jokingly you bit at the head of the bat as Steve looked up at you as if you were insane. “...What?”

You frowned and looked down at him. “Black Sabbath?” you asked. “The guy bit a bats head off on stage?” Now he was looking at you like you were a total psychopath. “Oh come on, you didn’t hear about that? The first time it was a fake bat but then he somehow managed to grab a real bat?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, as usual.” Steve said, shaking his head. “What movie is Black Sabbath again?” 

It was your turn to stare at him now. “How are we even friends?” you asked. “You and I don’t have a single thing in common. ‘What movie is Black Sabbath’ be so for real right now.” 

“You asked me last week if the Pacers was a marathon I was going to race!” Steve shot back. 

“And I stand by that, because that does NOT sound like the name of a basketball team.” You climbed higher on the ladder to hang the bat. 

“You’re thinking of the Fitness Gram Pacer Test.” 

“Sports!” you cried out, giving the bat a small bap to make it swing. “Movement like that means nothing to me!” you gave a pause. “Unless you’re actually going to compete. I’ll care for your sake if you’re playing. Otherwise I’m just gonna smile and nod. Give me another bat.”

Steve dug into the box again to pull out another bat for you. “So what’s Black Sabbath then?” he finally asked. 

“Look at you taking my lessons to heart and asking questions about a girls interest!” You reached down and pat his hair, causing him to swat you away again with a comment about not touching his hair. “It’s a metal band.” 

“I didn’t think you were into metal.” Steve said as you came back down the ladder. 

“I’m into anything I like.” you said simply. “Why limit yourself, you know? If I like something I need to learn everything about it or I feel like my brain will explode.”

“You’re kind of weird.”

“I know.”

The two of you continued to decorate the store between taking care of customers. You were going a bit overboard, if you were honest. Keith had handed you a pathetic box of a few paper decorations to use, and you had gone out with your own money to buy more. If you were expected to be here to earn a paycheck you may as well get something out of it, even if it was the feeling of being surrounded by cheesy holiday memorabilia. 

“So how are the kids, Harrington?” you asked, untangling a fake spiders web. 

Steve sighed, messing with the candy counter. “Dustin’s doing good. He’s made a friend at school.” 

“You seem tense about that.” you looked over at him. “Care to share with the class how that makes you feel?”

“I don’t feel anything about it.” Steve said, clearly defensive. “Henderson has a new cool older friend who’s into the same nerdy shit he’s into.”

Steve was so jealous, it was written all over his face. How long had he been the cool older figure in that kid's life? 

“Should have taken him up on playing D&D with him.” you said with a grin. “Now your child is going to divorce you for a new dad.”

“You really need to sort out whatever metaphor you’re going to use with me and these kids.” 

“Nah, gotta keep you on your toes.”

Steve shook his head with a laugh. “It’s funny you know? One minute I’m the coolest guy in the room to everyone. I was king of Hawkins High, had these kids that annoyed the shit out of me but looked up to me, and the best girlfriend I could have asked for. Then I graduated, the kids took over school, and now I’m single even after going on all these dates.” 

“Yeah, life’s funny like that.” you agreed. “If it makes you feel any better I don’t think you’re super lame. You’re actually kind of an alright dude.”

“Thanks.” 

“Any time.” 

“...So speaking of you going on dates.” you started slowly, unsure how to bring this up. 

“Right, yeah, so I said I was going out with Amy and Marissa on Thursday-” Steve started.

“No not that,” you interrupted. “Well, sort of but not really. So I’ve held up my end of the bargain, Harrington.” 

Steve froze for a moment before looking up at you on the ladder. “Oh, right. So about that, I have no idea what you even like in a guy.”

“Fair enough, I have not exactly been as pro-active as you have been.” The past few weeks had been so busy with the changing of seasons and weeding out old movies that you hadn’t really had time to think about dates. You’d been stuck in a perpetual loop of work and school with the occasional odd movie night with Steve and Robin when they were free. 

“So what do you like?” he asked. “If you want my help, you’re gonna have to open up about that.”

“Oh but that involves being vulnerable with King Steve of Hawkins High and that’s not exactly my style.” you sighed dramatically. 

“Last week when we got together for movie night you got drunk and cried about how you got asked out to prom as a joke. Is that not opening up or being vulnerable?” 

You winced and made a face. “I did that? Yikes. I’m never drinking again.” You did remember renting out Carrie with the others and crying because she had been a very relatable character in your early high school years. Things were a lot better now that you left high school, but you supposed that had struck a nerve. 

“Come on, just give me something to work with. I know you’re a weirdo who obsesses over the most random things. You like Rocky Horror and anything with music. But what do you like in a guy?” Steve pressed. 

You fiddled with the decoration that had been perfectly hung a moment ago, just to give you something to do with your hands. This was a very good question that you had thought about a lot. 

“I guess I want someone who’s as weird as I am.” you finally said. “I’d like to at least meet someone who understood the things I cared about, or was at least willing to learn. I know I’m different, and I’m okay with being different. I want a guy who gets being like that, and won’t make me feel less for it.”

“That’s... specifically vague.” Steve said, thinking. “I was thinking more looks wise.” 

“I like guys with long hair.” you said immediately. 

That he could probably work with. You hopped off the ladder for the last time and he helped you pack it away in the storage closet.

Steve was thinking hard about what to do about his end of the bargain when the door rang and someone walked inside. 

“Steve!” A voice called out, and your co-workers face immediately lit up and ran to the front of the store. 

“Henderson!”

You watched as the two boys ran to each other, immediately going into a secret handshake that you couldn’t help but find endearing. The kids that Steve was friends with were always fun, but you had to admit that you had a soft spot for Dustin. That was a kid who knew who he was and wasn’t afraid to be it. You admired that a lot about him. 

Deciding to give them a bit of space, you made yourself busy with the horror movie section, making sure that everything was in place. Lucky for you though, those two were still very much boys and you could hear every single part of their conversation. 

It’s not eavesdropping if they’re that loud. Probably. 

“The store looks great!” Dustin said, looking around. “You guys really went all out with the decorations, huh?” 

“Yup, we just got finished. She bought most of this stuff herself.” Steve gestured to you and you gave a wave. 

“Hey, Dustin!” you called out, and he waved back. 

“They’ve started putting up decorations at school too, but people keep stealing them.” Dustin said. “There are at least three skeletons missing from the science labs.”

“Those aren’t decorations, Henderson. I think those are supposed to be educational.” Steve replied. 

“Not when they’re wearing witches hats and cat ears.” Dustin countered. Steve shrugged in agreement. 

“So is school going alright? How’s Lucas doing on the team? What about Mike?” Steve asked and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Steve could deny it all he wanted, but he was absolutely a single mother to these kids. You wished that you had a way to record him so that he could see the way he was fussing over them. 

“Lucas is still a bench-warmer.” Dustin said, grabbing a candy bar from the snack stand. You conveniently were too busy making sure that a copy of Sleepaway Camp was properly rewound to notice the blatant theft. “He still goes to practice every week, but he hasn’t been on the court yet. He’s been making a lot of cool and popular friends.”

There was no hiding the disdain in his voice when he said that. 

“Well Basketball is the best way to secure your ranking at Hawkins.” Steve said. “I would know.” 

“Yeah but it seems like he never has time to even come to Hellfire Club anymore. We’re lucky if he makes it to one or two sessions a month.” Dustin sighed. “He totally blew off me and Mike last week to go hang out with his cool new friends.”

“You know, you have an in with the popular crowd now Henderson. You could use this as a chance to be popular.” Steve pointed out. 

“But I don’t want to be popular, Steve! I’m happy with the friends I have and enjoying what I like.” 

“Ignore Steve, he’s stupid. Keep doing what you’re doing, kid!” you called out to them, making Dustin laugh and Steve sigh. 

“Thank you.” Dustin said before turning to Steve again. “Anyway, Eddie says that conformity is overrated. He says it’s better to be a freak with a few friends than some weird version of normalcy and be miserable.” 

“Right, because ‘the freak’ is so wise.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

“He is!” Dustin frowned. “You know, he’s the only person who’s been nice to me and Mike since we started school. And last session he had us-” 

That was when you started tuning the conversation out. You looked up at the clock and swore, you had some work to do in the back before your shift is over. 

“Steve, watch the front for me. I’ll be finishing up in the back.” you called out, and Steve only waived in response. 

Once you were out of earshot, Steve held up a hand to Dustin to signal him to stop talking. 

“What?” asked Dustin. “You told me that I get at least five uninterrupted minutes to talk about the campaign when we hang out.”

“Yeah, and I’ll let you have seven minutes if you help me out.” Steve said. 

“Seven? An extra two minutes? Make it ten.” Dustin crossed his arms, 

“Eight.” 

“Deal. What do you need?”

Steve stares at Dustin for a second. He doesn’t want to ask this question, as he never had any interest in knowing anything about Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. Eddie had been a stagnant 2 years ahead of him and somehow still hadn’t graduated. Steve couldn’t comprehend being 20 and still in high school, and he almost felt bad for entertaining this thought. Then again, you had also spent an extra semester at school, so maybe that wouldn’t be a deterrent. 

“I need you to tell me more about Eddie.” Steve finally managed to get out. Dustin looked like Christmas had suddenly come early. 

“You want to know more about Eddie?” Dustin had a shit-eating grin on his face that Steve hated. “Since when do you have an interest in Dungeons and Dragons?”

“I still don’t.” Steve said firmly. “I never have and never will understand your game. And I’m not asking about him for me, I’m asking about him for her.” He motioned to the door to the back room. 

“Her?” Dustin looked at the door, as if he could see you through the flimsy wood. “Is she wanting to play?”

“I don’t know, probably? She’s made enough references to playing before. Listen, no, that’s not what this is about.” Steve sighed. “We have this deal going on. She’d help me get dates if I helped her get a date. And she followed through, and I still have no idea how to get her a date.”

“She wants to date Eddie?” Dustin had a look on his face that was a mix of surprise and confusion. “How does she know him?”

“I don’t think she knows Eddie.” Steve said. “But she wants someone weird and as much as I hate to admit it, your new friend might actually fit her criteria.” 

“Fifteen minutes.” 

“Dude, come on.” 

“Fifteen uninterrupted minutes, and you let me rent an R rated movie.” 

“Jesus, Henderson.”

“Deal or no deal?” 

Steve turned and looked at the door that you had disappeared behind. You had been a good friend to him over the past four months, a really good friend. You and Robin had been able to keep him grounded and going after the Starcourt Fire. You’d more than held up your end of the bargain. 

“Fine, deal.” Steve agreed. 

Dustin smiled and seemed content. “So what do you want to know?”

Part 2

Dividers by @strangergraphics

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