#and that a lot of you are filling in the gaps without whatever you want and making assumptions based on those things :/

[i2rizz]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Fandom: Blue Lock

Characters: Nagi x reader

Based on the song of Arctic monkeys🤭

Angst i guess?

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The phone buzzed on your nightstand for the third time in a row. You stared at the screen, the light illuminating your dark room as Nagi’s name flashed across the display. A sigh escaped your lips. You didn’t even need to pick up to know where this was going.

You swiped to answer anyway.

“...Hey,” his voice came through, slightly slurred, dragging the word out like he had all the time in the world.

“Nagi,” you started, already weary. “What time is it?”

A faint chuckle. “Uh, I dunno. Late?”

“It's 2 a.m.,” you clarified, rubbing your temples.

“Yeah, so? You’re awake,” he said lazily, as if that was a perfectly valid excuse for waking you.

You heard the familiar noise of background chatter and the bass of some party music, muffled but ever-present. Nagi must’ve stepped out for some air—or, more likely, to make this call.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though a twinge of irritation bled through.

“Just wanted to hear your voice.” His tone was nonchalant, but you knew better.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a low laugh. “Does it matter?”

Yes. It mattered a lot.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. The calls always came late at night, right when you were starting to feel okay about the distance that had grown between you two. Nagi was someone you once thought you understood completely—a quiet, laid-back guy who didn’t seem to need much from the world. But lately, he’d become a ghost of himself during the day and a restless spirit at night, always reaching out to you when he wasn’t sober enough to hold back.

“I’m not doing this again, Nagi,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Doing what?”

“This—whatever this is. You call me at ungodly hours, barely coherent, and expect me to just... what? Wait for you?”

He was silent for a beat, the sound of the distant party filling the gap.

“Dunno,” he said finally. “I just—everything’s loud here. You’re not.”

It wasn’t a compliment; it was an excuse.

“Do you even realize how unfair this is?” you continued, feeling a knot of frustration and sadness build in your chest. “You ignore me all day, but when you’re high, I’m suddenly worth your time?”

“I’m not ignoring you,” he mumbled, but the words were weak, lacking conviction.

“You could’ve fooled me,” you said, voice cracking slightly despite your efforts to stay calm.

There was another pause. You could hear him shifting, maybe leaning against a wall or the side of a car.

“...I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and for the first time, it sounded genuine.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Nagi, you can’t keep doing this. Calling me in the middle of the night doesn’t fix anything. It just hurts more.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The vulnerability in his tone made your resolve falter. You hated how much you still cared, how much you wanted to believe there was something salvageable in whatever was left between you two.

“Why do you even call me?” you asked softly, more for yourself than for him.

“Because you’re the only one who gets me,” he said without hesitation. “Everyone else... it’s just noise.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like this, but tonight, it hit differently. Maybe because you wanted to believe it was true.

“Then why don’t you talk to me during the day? When you’re sober?”

“I don’t know how,” he admitted. “I suck at... everything, really.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You don’t suck at soccer.”

“Yeah, well. That’s the only thing I’m good at.”

The conversation drifted into silence, heavy with unspoken emotions. Part of you wanted to hang up, to finally put an end to this exhausting cycle. But another part of you—the part that still cared too much—couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

“Nagi,” you said finally, voice softer now. “I can’t keep being your escape. I need more than this. We both do.”

He didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you thought he might’ve hung up. But then he spoke, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

The words hung in the air like a fragile promise, one that you weren’t sure he could keep.

“You already have,” you said, tears stinging your eyes as you ended the call.

The phone sat silent on your nightstand, no longer buzzing with calls or texts. You stared at it for a while, wondering if he’d try again. But deep down, you knew this was the end of the line—at least for now.

Nagi might’ve needed you, but you needed someone who could show up when it mattered most.

And tonight, you chose yourself.

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It wasnt smth big yet i still feel bad☹️

[rogueddie]

You know, it's heart shattering that war in Ukraine is almost 2 years and there is no single repost in your blog on that matter...

And the problem is that ordinary citizens of other countries are not aware of the horrors of the war and the real numbers of Ukrainian casualties. The overall figures are based on UN reports, which are far from reality. They do not contain horror stories about the torture of the civilian population, the rape of not only women, but newborn children, not to mention the murders that the Russians carry with them. And there are tens of thousands of such stories if not more...

You know, and now almost every family, even in regions far from the war, feels pain and are suffering, because someone's father, someone's husband or someone's son were killed, whom without being military, went to defend their country.

And for those who say that Ukraine is to blame or that the problem arose because of the EU and NATO, it is not so. Because as we can see, as of today, Ukraine still does not have the opportunity or potential to be a member of these organizations.

So why did I write all this? Because I really love your work, but I can't understand: how is it to condemn the war in one country, but not notice it in another?

The people of Gaza, and Palestinians in general, are not at war. They are being murdered in an ethnic cleansing and my country, and many others, are not only supporting that but providing them the funding they need to commit said genocide against civillians and children.

The horrors happening in Ukraine are awful. It definitely deserves more attention. But you don't need to entirely dismiss the atrocities happening in Gaza to do so.

You are also ignoring vital context; Ukraine has been reported on, spoken on, for the entire war. They've recieved military support. Monetary aid. Everyone is for them and I've never needed to tell my countries governement to support Ukraine, they already are.

But the political powers, right now, are supporting Isreal. They are supporting genocide. And the only times they aren't able to send that support? It is because we, the people, are stopping them from doing so. It is extremely vital in this case, with Gaza, to keep speaking on it and keep people informed. To keep people motivated.

More than 11,000 people have been murdered in Gaza. The UN has called it "a childrens graveyard". There are Isrealis who sit and watch the bombing of Gaza like it's a fireworks display.

I haven't seen anyone blame Ukraine, and I don't doubt that there are people saying that, but I have seen plenty of people blame Gaza. I've seen plenty of people blame Islam. I've seen plenty of people say that they feel nothing for the children being murdered.

Also, if you love my work so much then you probably should have noticed by now that I haven't really spoken about things that could be considered political that much before this. I spoke about things like the Queen dying and the missile that landed in Poliand, during the Russia - Ukraine war.

It's not because I'm ignoring any of it. It's because this is my dumb little fandom blog where I smash Stranger Things characters together like they're my Barbie dolls. It's a way to talk about my hyperfixation without annoying people irl, who I annoy enough by talking about politics, constantly.

But the horrors happening in Gaza, to Palestinians, is so horrible, so beyond unforgivable, that I feel like I have to talk about it. And I have a platform now- reblogging things about Palestine will bring more attention to it and, who knows, maybe one person will feel motivated to do something. I can only hope.

[sunderwight]

Much as I love the idea of PIDW being rife with terrible porn tropes and interesting (if contrived) erotic writing conventions, all actual evidence in canon would seem to indicate that apart from some sex pollen and "uh oh, the protagonist has gone into a fugue state, whatever shall calm him down?" type stuff, it was fairly vanilla.

Like, that's part of both Shen Yuan and Airplane's frustration with it, I think. It's full of sex and it's not even sex either of them enjoy the concept of. Airplane was fully just trying to pander to an audience he felt he knew and could manipulate, but not one either he nor his ultra mega hate reader were actually part of.

Not that they understood that themselves at the time.

I mean I know fandom likes to make Airplane less closeted than Shen Yuan (for a lot of reasons), which I support, but I feel like in canon at least... he didn't cotton on to Luo Binghe's change in interests at first either. It wasn't until he was watching his protagonist obsess over resurrecting Shen Qingqiu at any cost that the light started to dawn. For Shang Qinghua, also, many more years have passed since he was back in their original world. He's had more time to reconcile himself to certain ideas.

What glimpses we get of the person he was before he died, was reborn, and lived a whole other life well into adulthood, would seem to indicate that he probably wasn't much better than Shen Yuan back when he was writing.

I mean he probably was still BETTER (the bar is on the floor), like I bet he could have a fantasy featuring Mobei Jun without having an existential crisis or pretending it didn't happen, but he would have probably been like "wow I guess I've been writing so much m/f porn that I can't even enjoy it anymore and my brain had to come up with something else, anyway Mobei would make a hot chick tho, I'm gonna write one of his cousins as Binghe's next wife" and gotten on with things.

Basically I guess what I'm driving at is that it would be funny if SQQ and SQH figured they had a solid handle on the kinds of sex pollen-y porn tropes to expect from the world (mostly just the occasional fuck-or-die that missionary can cure), only for the rug to get ripped out from under them because the system incorporated a bunch of stuff from Airplane's subconscious to fill out the gaps. Not even his notes. His daydreams and fantasies.

SQQ: what the hell?! PIDW didn't even have werewolves or tentacle porn monsters!

SQH, suddenly reminded of some very specific fap sessions: right?! this is definitely weird and in no way my fault! it must be because of the genre switch!

SQQ: *suspicious*

SQH: which is your fault! you made the protagonist gay! in fact it's probably your fault that I'm gay too now!

SQQ: bullshit. what did you do. was this in a draft?!

SQH: *sweating* I can say with absolute confidence that it was not! I never wrote anything like this!

SQQ: *having a crisis now because maybe he DID accidentally cause the monsterfucker stuff and he desperately doesn't want anyone to realize that he's actually into it*

SQH: *continuing to sweat because the world is consistently manifesting content from his personal spank bank and if cucumber ever figures that out he's a dead man*

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

And So It Begins

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: cockwarming and general conversation about sex but that's about it-

Genre: smut

Summary: Some things are not self explanatory, and Steve has decided he's going to fill in the gaps by coming to you to ask his questions about sex and some of those questions have more involved answers than you'd expect

***

The knock on your bedroom door barely pulls your attention away from the sketch you're working on in your bed, however, after a couple of minutes the persistence of it interrupts your focus enough that you finish up the line you're doing and put the drawing pad down with a sigh. You pause the show that was really just filling the silence while you worked and force yourself up to answer the door. Steve is standing on the other side of it, as stiff as ever.

"Hey Steve what's up?"

"You're a smart woman." He says.

"Thank you?" You frown unsure where he's going with this.

"I have some questions I'd like answers to and you're the only person here I trust to answer them truthfully without making me feel embarrassed about it." He explained.

"Usually when people have questions that they're embarrassed to ask, they just take them to Google. The search engine I've taught you to use several times."

"Oh I've tried Google but the answers I get from there are-" Steve trails off and clears his throat, avoiding your questioning gaze.

"Are these questions you need answered now or in the near future? Are there a lot of them? Did you make a list? What are we talking about here exactly?" You quirk an eyebrow up at him.

"I wrote a few down, but I'm sure some of the answers will lead to more questions."

"Alright, come on in. My knowledge is at your disposal." You step out of the doorway so Steve can walk into your room. He takes a seat in the armchair off to the side and flips open his notepad. You had been joking about him making a list but you shouldn't be surprised he did, this is Steve after all.

"Okay I'm not sure where to begin." He frowns at his list.

"Just start at the top babes, whatever you wrote down first." You shrug.

"Right, yes. What is- cockwarming?" He blinks at you. Your eyes widen in surprise. If you'd been drinking something you'd have spit it out.

"Jesus Christ Steve." You chuckle. He blushes when you call him handsome you'd never have guessed those words would come out of his mouth.

"Sorry, I should've warned you it was rather... vulgar." Steve frowns.

"I'm far from chaste Steve, I'm just- I can't believe you even know that word." You say.

"I read it somewhere and I didn't want to Google it because the couple of times I have Googled something like this the results were, undigestible. But you know a lot about sex so I figure-"

"Well hang I know a decent amount about sex, but that applies to a lot of things, it's not limited to sex I'm not the Kama Sutra." You cut him off.

"The what?" He asks.

"Kama Sutra- it's a book about sex and sensuality and what not."

"Oh okay." Steve takes a moment to scribble it down on a different page in his notepad. "Sorry okay so can you answer my question about the other thing or do you not know."

"Cockwarming? Yeah I know what it is." You shrug.

"Well?"

"It's pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Warming a dick. You stick it in a hole, but you're not supposed to move, you just- chill out."

"Stick it in a hole?" Steve blinks at you. Perhaps you could've done better than that but you've had to never explain sex things in a non-sexual relationship.

"Yeah. It could be your dick in a vagina, I'm sure queer couples do it also so it could be your dick in an asshole. Or a strap-on if it's about the... control of it all. Somebody's probably also tried it as an oral fixation thing but I can't imagine that would be nearly as pleasant." Your brows pull together as you consider the option.

"Oral fixation?" Steve asks.

"A desire to have something in your mouth." You say.

"What thing?"

"Anything. Varies from person to person really. Sometimes a dick, sometimes fingers, sometimes gags, the list goes on." You shrug. Steve jots down things as you talk, there's something a little endearing about his notetaking.

"This is all fascinating. But what's the point of cockwarming?"

"That is something I'm not sure how to explain to you." You shake your head.

"Why not?"

"Well because it's a thing people like, and obviously that's subjective. You may not like it but you'll only find that out if you ever try it and that's not something I can really help with."

"Why?" He asks.

"Excuse me?" You blink.

"Why can't you help with that?"

"Why would I help with that?"

"I told you I came to you because I trust your knowledge."

"Yeah but wouldn't a kinesthetic lesson like that be kind of crossing a line? Most people figure this stuff out through porn or with a partner."

"There are a lot of modern things I barely understand, this is an area I'd like to not make a fool of myself in down the line." Steve says.

"Okay. We're friends so- I'll help you out the best I can, I did already say my knowledge is at your disposal but we should probably have some rules if we're going to cross that line." You say.

"Of course. Whatever you think is best." He nods.

"I want to establish safe words. They're used like- referee cards during a sports game, kind of. I usually use a stoplight system. Green means keep going, yellow means slow down or proceed with caution, red means stop and whatever is happening would come to a complete halt. Of course we don't have to use the stoplight you can simply pick a word that works for you. Something easy to remember that won't get easily confused."

"Why wouldn't you just say stop?"

"Well- we can!  It's just that for some sexual activities saying stop may not be ideal." You say.

"What?"

"Sometimes saying stop is part of the sexual situation so you say it but you don't mean it so it's not really an effective way to indicate that you actually want something to stop. Like impact stuff, spankings and what not, sometimes you'll shout no or stop instinctively but you're not actually trying to ask them to stop, you're enjoying it. So you pick another word to mean stop. Plus there's consensual non-consent-"

"That's an oxymoron." He cuts you off.

"Yes I know but they call it that because all the risk is manufactured, predetermined, discussed and agreed upon in advance. It's all the thrill without any of the actual danger. That's a lesson for a different day. You can write it down if you want to come back to it."

"I like the stoplight. It's simple and self explanatory."

"Great, you can use it at any time to indicate how you're doing. If something is uncomfortable, say so. This isn't some sort of interrogation training, you are not obligated to endure anything and since this is about you learning don't hesitate to communicate with me if you realize something's not working or you have a question. Did all of that make sense?"

"Perfectly." He nods.

"Great. Any questions?" You ask.

"Just a general one- will we need a schedule for this?"

"For when you're allowed to come to me with sexual questions?"

"Well- since sometimes it'll involve more than a verbal explanation, should we have a plan for when it's a good time for you?"

"Nah it's fine. Our schedules aren't consistent enough for that really. Just ask whenever you have one and if it becomes a bigger thing that needs a more in depth explanation we can figure it out." You shrug.

"Well if that works for you, I'm okay with it."

"Very well, we'll start with your first question as today's lesson. Cockwarming. I've already told you what it is but you don't seem to understand why anyone would do it. It's mostly an intimacy thing. For those that do it there's something about the closeness that appeals to them."

"It just doesn't seem very comfortable. Plus wouldn't you want to move." He frowns.

"Well I don't have a dick so I don't know, you can sit there speculating or we can turn this into a hands on lesson and you can decide for yourself it you hate it." You say.

"Hands... on?"

"Yeah, we just went through all the logistics for it. Might as well put it into practice since you're so- curious about the details of this one. You don't have to of course, if you're too shy, feel free to let me know."

"I'm not too shy. I just wasn't expecting that suggestion."

"You wanna get why people do it? Try it. You can either try it now since you came to me for answers or ask your girlfriend when you eventually get one." You shrug. "Up to you of course. What would you like to do?"

"I- okay let's... try it." He says hesitantly.

"You sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure." He nods.

"Do you want me to turn around while you ready yourself?" You offer.

"Would you mind?"

"You know Steve, you'll have to get used to me seeing you naked if this is going to be our arrangement." You say turning your back to him. You do smile a little to yourself, it's a little cute that he's so nervous, and even cuter that apparently his determination outweighs that.

"Well... I guess, but you offered to-"

"I know, you're more on the reserved side and I want you to know your comfort is a priority, but I'm just saying some of your questions might be hard to answer kinesthetically if I can't look at you."

"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. We'll get there. It might take me a while though." He says.

"That's fine Stevie, I'm just the tutor. We move at your pace." You shrug.

"Do I- this may be a silly question, but do I need to fully undress for this?"

"You can keep your top on if you'd like, but your pants and underwear have to come off."

"Okay then- I'm ready." He says. You turn around and Steve stands awkwardly and pantless in your room.

"Have a seat at the desk please." You nod your head towards your desk chair as you shimmy off your own shorts and panties. You can feel Steve's eyes on you as he moves to the seat you directed him to and you have to fight to suppress the smile pulling at your mouth. "Alright, it's pretty straightforward, I'm just going to sit in your lap."

"Wait do- we need to prepare at all for this? Are you sure you're ready?" He asks.

"Normally you'd be right but honestly I'm pretty good already. Trust me, we can skip that step this time around." You chuckle. That's as much as you're willing to tell him, whether he figures out what you mean or not is his business.

"Okay." His brow furrows a bit.

"Do you want to hold your dick for this or is it okay for me to do it?" You ask as you walk over to him.

"Oh- uh you can do it." Steve says his cheeks tinging the slightest shade of pink.

"Okay." You wrap your fingers around his dick and shuffle over his lap, hovering above him as you line him up with your entrance. He's hot and heavy in your hand as you gently rock your hips to help your body take him in. You're incredibly wet which helps but with how thick he is it takes a moment to settle fully onto his lap. He lets out a shuddering breath once you're seated. For a while you just sit silently, trying to control the reflexive clenching of your walls around his dick. You'll admit you haven't had sex in a while, and you don't really think about it often but you're really enjoying the feeling of being full right now.

"Christ." He eventually whispers.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

"Y-you're so warm. It's like... a furnace." He grunts dropping his head to your shoulder.

"Yeah?" You hum. You almost want to laugh at the analogy.

"And you're so- wet. Are you, just always like this?" He asks breathily.

"I dunno, more often than not I guess? I've never given it much thought because usually there's a lot of foreplay involved in my sexcapades so, it's even wetter by the time I'm actually having sex." You shrug. Steve hisses and bucks into you, making you moan sharply.

"Sorry! Sorry. It just- you keep squeezing around me I can't focus." Steve groans, his hands settling on your hips. You hadn't even realized until now that he wasn't touching you.

"I'm not squeezing on purpose it just happens." You stutter.

"Really? God this is- intense." He sighs.

"Sometimes it's done after sex, if you don't want to lose the closeness of being joined this way even after, the act is over." You tell him.

"That- I can see how that would make sense." He grunts. "It does feel... nice. It's just- also really challenging. You're so- hot around me and unfortunately my anatomy reacts the same as anyone's would when in this situation. It's a true test of willpower."

"Do you want me to get up? If it's uncomfortable you don't have to- I think the point's been made. You've given it a try and-"

"No. No, I'm not- I like the feel of you around me. I'm not ready for you to move." His grip on your hips tighten slightly.

"So- you like it then?" You ask.

"Yeah- a lot actually." He nods.

"Well, now you know. Lesson successful I suppose."

"Do you- mind if we stay like this for a while?"

"Well I've got nowhere else to be at the moment." You shrug.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"Cockwarming?"

"Yeah-"

"Oh, yeah. This is far from my first rodeo."

"So you enjoy it?"

"I mean yeah, I like the closeness of it, and how full I feel. It's comforting, kinda like hugging a stuffed animal but- way different I suppose." You say.

"That's- one way to describe it."

"Sorry, I realize I'm being unecessarily genteel considering you're inside me right now." You chuckle.

"It's fine. It's, cute. But if it's about me, you don't have to be polite for my sake."

"I don't think you're ready for the kind of filth that could be coming out of my mouth in this setting Stevie." You warn.

"I'm not some blushing school boy you know." Steve scoffs.

"Maybe not, but I still think it's better to ease you into that version of me. I don't want it to take away from the point of this. We're not exploring my sexual preferences so no need to throw you into the deep end in that regard." You explain.

"I'm a pretty strong swimmer." He says and you laugh.

"You say that now." You hum.

"I feel like you have no faith in me."

"That's not it. I'm assessing. Thirty minutes ago I wouldn't have believed you'd be having an open conversation about sex with anyone in this tower, let alone me."

"You've got a lot to learn."

"So do you." You smirk, stroking his cheek. Honestly you think you could sit here talking to Steve like this for the rest of the day, as distracting as it is to have him inside you this way and not move, you're far more experienced in this than Steve, and the dull ache is easy to deal with when you're having silly conversations.

***

[mononijikayu]

non ho l’eta — nanami kento.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.” He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart. “You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU!;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Safe For Work (SFW), Age Difference (Reader is in early 20s, Nanami is in late 30s), Unrequited Romance, Falling In Love, First Love, Emotional Hurt, Comfort, Confession, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Loss, Letting Go, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Loneliness, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Age Gap;

WORDS: 11k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i told myself this was going to be only five thousand words but it ends up being so long. i'm really sorry. you've been dealing with how long this is. but i love this a lot. i wrote it listening to the song with the same title as this fic and just as much, i think about that manga i read years ago, after the rain. its a good story and the ending, where the ml lets the fl lead go because he cares about her youth - it was great. i hope you like it anyway. thank you for reading!!! i love you all <3

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A NEW BEGINNING MUST ALWAYS COME YOU THINK. As you settle into the quiet, unfamiliar countryside, the weight of the loss still clings to you. The days are filled with the sounds of nature—birds chirping, the rustle of leaves—but they feel muted compared to the life you left behind. The house is smaller, the town quieter, and everything around you seems to move at a slower pace. But inside, the grief swirls like a storm, refusing to be tamed by the peaceful surroundings.

Your beloved brother Yuuji, always so full of energy, has been quieter since the move. He’s trying to be strong, to put on a brave face for you, but you can see the sadness in his eyes. It was obvious, with how his smile never reaching his eyes like it usually does.

And it felt odd, it felt weird. You weren’t used to your brother being in this. And it hurts you. But you know that you didn’t know what to do to comfort him. You don’t want to drive him away by speaking to him about it. And you don’t want to hurt him by making him feel like you were overbearing either. 

Your new house was still quiet. And you weren’t used to that either. Grandpa Wasuke’s voice would be ringing out through the house today, telling you both to go and start washing up so you could eat dinner. Or sometimes when you guys got home late because of sports practice, he would be too loud to scold you because you both forget to tell him that you were going home late and making him worried. 

You miss your grandfather. And you were sure of Yuuji’s feelings being the same too. The silence was too loud, even between you and your brother. You wished it wasn’t. Because you were all you had now. One evening, as you both sit on the porch, the sky painted in the soft hues of sunset, Yuji breaks the silence.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he begins, his voice softer than usual. “Being here, without him."

"Yeah." You mumble under your breath. "It...it is."

Your brother lets out a soft sigh. "I thought moving away would help, but...”

He trails off, staring at the horizon, his usual spark dimmed by the weight of unimaginable grief. You nod, understanding exactly what he means. The move was supposed to be a new beginning, but it feels more like an escape that didn’t quite work. And yet, you were stuck. And so was he too.

“I miss him so much, you know?” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. “I thought...maybe if we came here, it wouldn’t hurt as much. But everything just reminds me of him. Even...even the silence......"

Yuuji looks at you, his lipspursed in a line. "I....I know."

"Grandpa’s voice is not here anymore and not hearing it anymore is just….” You feel the tears threatening to fall.

Yuuji turns to you, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. “We’ve still got each other. At least there’s that, sis.” he says, his hand reaching out to rest on yours. “And we’ll get through this. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but...we will.”

His words are simple, but they carry a weight of hope that you cling to. The grief might not vanish with a change of scenery, but at least you have Yuji by your side. And that, somehow, makes the pain a little more bearable.

The new town was picturesque—a small, idyllic place with rolling fields, charming cottages, and a slower pace of life that starkly contrasted with the frenetic energy of the city you had left behind. The local college, with its ivy-covered walls and quaint architecture, offered a promise of new beginnings and opportunities. Yet, beneath the serene surface, both you and Yuuji felt an underlying emptiness that was impossible to ignore.

As you and Yuuji navigated your first weeks at college, you found yourselves struggling to adapt to the quieter, more insular environment. The once-familiar hum of city life, with its constant activity and vibrant energy, was replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. The silence of the countryside, while initially soothing, soon became a reminder of the profound solitude you both felt.

The college itself was a small, close-knit community, where everyone seemed to know each other. The interactions were friendly and the atmosphere warm, but the sense of being an outsider in this new world was palpable. The academic workload was manageable, but your focus was often fragmented by the persistent ache of grief. Classes that once might have been engaging felt distant and abstract, overshadowed by the weight of your personal loss.

Every corner of the town seemed to hold echoes of the life you had left behind. The quaint coffee shop that you frequented, with its rustic charm and homemade pastries, became a bittersweet reminder of the comfort you once had. The local park, with its winding paths and serene pond, offered moments of reflection but also highlighted the contrast between the peaceful surroundings and the turmoil within.

The routine of daily life was a constant struggle between embracing the new and mourning the past. Each day, you and Yuuji tried to immerse yourselves in your studies and social activities, hoping to find distraction and connection. Yet, despite your best efforts, the shadows of grief seemed to follow you, making it difficult to engage fully with the present.

Yuuji’s energy began to return with the arrival of new friends. He introduced you to them one day—Kugisaki Nobara, a fiery and confident girl with a sharp tongue, and Fushiguro Megumi, a quiet and serious boy who seemed to understand more than he let on. You watched as your brother slowly began to resemble his old self, the grief loosening its grip on him with each laugh he shared with them, each story he told. 

There was a joy in his voice that you hadn’t heard in months, a tenderness in the way he spoke about his new friends, and it warmed your heart to see him healing. You felt truly happy for him—how could you not? He deserved this chance to move forward, to find light in the darkness.

And yet, a small, stubborn pain lodged itself in your chest, growing a little each day. You couldn’t help but notice the way you were falling behind. No matter how much you tried, the sorrow still clung to you, as if you were trapped in a place where time stood still, unable to reach the same place of healing that Yuji had found.

You tried to join in, to share in his happiness, but it felt like you were on the outside looking in, a spectator in your own life. The laughter that once came so easily to you now felt forced, and every smile was tinged with a sadness you couldn’t shake.

Yuuji didn’t notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t know how to help. He was so caught up in his new friendships, in the joy of finally finding some semblance of normalcy, that your struggles seemed to fade into the background. You didn’t blame him for it; you were glad he had found something to hold onto. But the loneliness was there, a constant reminder that while he was moving forward, you were still stuck in the past, unable to move on.

A lot of this was on you—that much you were painfully aware of. Yuuji had nothing to do with your unhappiness; he had been nothing but supportive, trying his best to bring some light back into your life. No, it was you who clung to the sorrow, who let it seep into every corner of your being until it became a part of you. You were the one at fault, wallowing in the pain because it felt like the only way to hold on to the past.

Maybe, in some twisted way, you were punishing yourself. The guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you hadn’t been a good enough granddaughter, that you had failed him in some way. And the thought of moving on, of letting go of the grief, felt like a betrayal. Because if you forgot, if you let the pain fade, what would be left of your grandfather? Wouldn’t that mean he didn’t exist anymore? 

You couldn’t bear the thought. He was all you and Yuuji had, the one who had raised you, who had been your anchor in a world that often felt too chaotic to navigate alone. Clinging to him, to the pain, to the loneliness he had left behind—it felt like the only way to keep him close, to make sure he wasn’t forgotten. 

You knew it wasn’t healthy, that it was holding you back while Yuuji was moving forward. But you couldn’t let go. Not yet. Not when it felt like losing him all over again. So you held on, hoping that by keeping the pain alive, you could keep a part of him with you, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness in the process.

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YOU REALIZED THAT YOU WERE A NIGHT OWL. Because the night felt like a relief. Even if it was too loud, the night was kinder than the day. It was two sides of the coin, a mercy and a pain still, you think. The silence of the countryside was both a comfort and a torment.

The absence of city noise left space for your thoughts to swirl, allowing the grief to settle in more deeply. The memories of your grandfather, so vivid and cherished, felt both near and painfully out of reach, teasing you with their closeness yet reminding you of the distance that now separated you.

The quiet of the countryside, which had once promised peace, now seemed to amplify the emptiness left by his passing. During the day, you could distract yourself with the mundane tasks of settling into a new home, but when night fell, the stillness felt oppressive, as if the world had stopped moving just to remind you of what you’d lost.

It was a strange paradox—the night brought a certain relief, a break from the pretense of normalcy that the day demanded, but it also intensified the ache within you. The darkness was both a sanctuary and a prison, offering solace in its quiet yet refusing to let you escape the sorrow that lay just beneath the surface. In the night, you could almost feel him there, his presence lingering in the shadows, but it was a comfort tinged with the sharp pain of knowing he was gone.

The countryside, with its vast, empty spaces and endless quiet, had a way of magnifying your loneliness. What was supposed to be a balm for your grief had instead become a mirror, reflecting the void his absence had created in your life. And so, as you lay in bed, staring into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel that the night, though kinder in some ways, also held a cruelty of its own—one that forced you to confront the depth of your loss in the silence that surrounded you.

During the day, you tried to lose yourself in the routine of university life, hoping that the distraction would somehow ease the ache. But even the familiar rhythm of lectures and assignments couldn’t drown out the emptiness that had settled within you. It was in one of these moments, as you sat quietly in the college library, as he approached you after the lecture, his usual composed expression softened by concern.

“May I ask you something?” he said, his voice low and measured. There was no judgment in his tone, only a gentle curiosity that made you nod in response.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, his gaze steady on yours. “Why are you still in university?”

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t something you had given much thought to—not really. You had simply kept going, attending classes, completing assignments, because that’s what you were supposed to do. But now, confronted by professor Nanami Kento’s calm and earnest inquiry, you find yourself struggling to answer.

You hesitated, searching for words that didn’t come easily. “I don’t know, sensei.” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess... It's what I’ve always done. For relief….But I just….I don’t….”

Nanami nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “But is it what you want? To be here?” he asked, his tone gentle but insistent. “Or are you here because it’s easier to keep going than to stop and face what you’re really feeling?”

The honesty in his words cut through the numbness that had settled over you. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze as the truth of his question sank in. Why were you still here? Was it because you truly wanted to be, or because it was easier to bury yourself in routine than to confront the grief that was still so raw and overwhelming?

“I don’t know, sensei.” you repeated, your voice trembling now. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Nanami didn’t push you for more. Instead, he simply stood there, offering his presence as a quiet support. “It’s okay not to know anything.” he said after a moment. “It’s okay to take time to figure it out. But don’t be afraid to ask yourself these questions. Don’t be afraid to face what’s really going on inside.”

His words lingered with you long after he had left, echoing in the silence of your room that night. For the first time, you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to pause, to question, to not have all the answers right away. Maybe it was okay to admit that you were still hurting, still lost, and that you didn’t have to have it all figured out just yet.

From what you remember, the first person to truly notice your pain was your professor in Philosophy—Nanami Kento. He was always composed, with a stern exterior that didn’t betray much emotion, but there was a kindness in his eyes that softened whenever he looked at you and Yuuji. Perhaps it was because he understood, on some level, what it was like to carry the burden of loss.

Nanami–sensei never pried, never asked questions that would force you to confront what you weren’t ready to face. But there was something in the way he looked at you, a quiet understanding that made you feel seen, even in your darkest moments. He didn’t offer empty words of comfort or try to tell you that things would get better with time. Instead, he acknowledged your pain with a simple nod or a gentle word, as if to say that it was okay to feel what you were feeling.

You often caught him watching you during lectures, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if he was trying to assess how you were holding up. He’d ask you how you were doing in a way that suggested he wasn’t just asking about your academic performance but about you as a person, as someone who was grieving. His presence was steady, a quiet anchor in the storm of emotions you were struggling to navigate.

In those moments, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Nanami didn’t try to fix you, didn’t push you to move on before you were ready. He simply let you exist in your pain, offering a silent understanding that you weren’t alone in it. And though it didn’t make the nights any easier or the grief any less suffocating, it was a small comfort to know that someone else understood, that someone else had been there too.

Somehow, it was easy to see in his eyes that he had gone through something similar, and that pained him in some way. And he hated that someone were to be in a position akin to yours, in a similar conundrum so young as you were.  He took it upon himself to make sure you were both doing okay, often checking in on you, offering guidance, and making sure that neither of you felt alone.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the office window, illuminating the neat rows of books and papers that lined Nanami’s desk. The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room as you sat across from him, feeling the weight of your emotions as you tried to make sense of your new life.

“Nanami–sensei.” you began, your voice soft but determined, “I’ve noticed you’ve been going out of your way to check in on me. I appreciate it, really, but I can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. You seem to understand what we’re going through in a way that’s more than just professional.”

Nanami looked up from his papers, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sadness. He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment before responding. “It’s not easy to see young people struggling with grief and loss. It brings back memories of my own experiences, of times when I had to navigate similar challenges.”

You frowned slightly, sensing the depth of his feelings. “You’ve been through something like this yourself?”

Nanami nodded, his expression reflecting the weight of past pain. “Yes. I’ve had my share of losses, and while each experience is unique, it is normal. Seeing you in such heavy burdens….I must help in that. It is my duty.”

A moment of silence passed between you, the gravity of his words settling over the room. You could see the empathy in his warm brown eyes, a deep well of understanding that went beyond mere sympathy. 

“I didn’t realize you had experienced something like this, sensei.” you said quietly. “It’s comforting to know that you understand, but it’s also hard to see how much it affects you. I’m so sorry about what happened to you, sensei.”

Nanami’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “Please don’t worry. I don’t mind. And I try to keep my personal experiences separate from my role as a teacher, but sometimes it’s inevitable. I can’t help but empathize deeply with students who are struggling. If it helps you, then maybe it would make it easier on you.”

You nodded, appreciating the honesty and vulnerability he was showing. “It’s been hard for us to adjust, with everything that’s happened. I understand, sensei. But….. Your support has made a difference, even if we haven’t always known how to express it.”

Nanami offered a small, reassuring smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I want to make sure you and Yuuji know that you’re not alone in this. Sometimes, just knowing that someone cares and is willing to listen can make a difference.”

There was a sense of mutual understanding in the room, a connection forged through shared experiences and empathy. The conversation had brought a sense of clarity, revealing the depth of Nanami’s compassion and the personal struggles he had faced.

“You’ve been a source of support and I want to thank you for that.” you said, feeling a sense of gratitude. “It’s good to know that...we have someone. It's...good. That I...I have someone, sensei.”

Nanami’s expression was one of gentle encouragement. “You’re welcome. If you ever need someone to talk to or guidance as you navigate this transition, don’t hesitate to reach out. My door is always open.”

At first, it was just a relief to have someone looking out for you, someone who cared enough to notice the cracks in your armor. But as time went on, you found yourself longing for more of his attention, craving the comfort he provided. His presence was steady, reassuring, a shining new light that gave you warmth in the cold uncertainty of your new life.

Every glance, every word of encouragement, every moment spent with him, stirred something deep within you. You began to realize that it wasn’t just gratitude or respect that you felt for him. It was something more, something that made your heart race and your thoughts linger on him long after he had gone. You were falling in love with Nanami Kento, and as frightening as it was to acknowledge, it was also something you could no longer deny.

The realization that you were in love with Nanami Kento crept up on you slowly, like the dawn breaking over the quiet countryside. At first, you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that it was just a fleeting infatuation born out of your need for comfort in a difficult time. But the more you tried to suppress those feelings, the stronger they became.

It started with the way your heart would skip a beat when he entered the room, the way your eyes would search for him in a crowd, hoping for just a brief moment of connection. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, cherishing the conversations you shared, no matter how brief. His calm demeanor, his quiet strength, the way he seemed to understand you without needing to ask too many questions—it all drew you in, making you feel safe in a world that had felt so unstable for so long.

The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for his presence, even when he wasn’t around. You would replay your interactions in your mind, searching for hidden meanings in his words, wondering if he felt even a fraction of what you were feeling. The thought of being in love with him was both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate balance between hope and fear.

You knew it was risky, that opening your heart to someone else meant making yourself vulnerable again, something you weren’t sure you were ready for. But the warmth you felt in Nanami’s presence, the way he made you feel like you weren’t alone in your pain, was something you couldn’t ignore. And so, despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, you allowed yourself to embrace the feelings growing inside you, no longer able to deny the truth: you were in love with Nanami Kento.

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IT FELT WRONG TO FEEL GENUINE FEELINGS FOR HIM. But you just can't help yourself. You had found something warm in your life for the first time in a long time. And you wanted to hold onto theat feeling, even just for a little while.

You found yourself looking forward to Nanami's lectures with a new sense of anticipation, one that went beyond the academic content. It wasn't just about the subject matter or the intellectual challenge; it was the way his presence seemed to anchor you in a world that often felt tumultuous.

His voice, calm and measured, had a soothing quality that cut through the noise of your internal struggles, providing a sense of stability that was both comforting and invigorating. It felt like the sun in the morning sky, greeting you with all the warmth it could offer.

Every lecture became a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the outside world faded away and all that remained was the rhythmic cadence of his speech and the depth of his insights. His voice had a way of wrapping around you like a soft blanket, offering warmth and clarity in moments of confusion. It was as if he spoke directly to your soul, providing the reassurance you craved without even realizing it.

You began to pay closer attention to the little details of his presence, each one becoming a part of the mosaic of your growing affection. You noticed how he always carried a thermos of coffee, a small but meaningful ritual that seemed to add a personal touch to his professional demeanor. It was a simple thing, but it spoke to a side of him that was both grounded and familiar, like a quiet reflection of his everyday life.

The way he adjusted his glasses when he was deep in thought fascinated you. It was a small, habitual gesture that seemed to signal his immersion in the subject, his focus and dedication to his work. In those moments, when he was lost in contemplation, you saw a different side of him—one that was entirely absorbed in the pursuit of knowledge and understanding. It was a reminder of his depth, his passion for what he did, and it drew you in further.

And then there were the rare but genuine smiles that occasionally graced his lips. These smiles were not frequent, but when they appeared, they were like fleeting glimpses of sunlight breaking through the clouds. They were unguarded and sincere, revealing a side of him that was warm and approachable. These moments were precious to you, a sign that beneath his composed exterior, there was a person who experienced joy and kindness in the midst of his professional life.

Each detail, each nuance of his behavior, seemed to create a rich tapestry that captivated you. The combination of his voice, his habits, and his rare smiles painted a portrait of someone who was both steadfast and deeply human. As you became more attuned to these subtleties, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn't anticipated. The more you observed, the more you appreciated the intricate layers of his character, each one adding depth to your feelings and making it even harder to keep your emotions in check.

In the quiet moments between lectures, when you would reflect on these details, you felt a growing sense of connection to him. It was as if the little things he did were speaking directly to your heart, creating a bond that was both profound and fragile. And with each passing day, the realization that you were falling for him became more undeniable, a truth that both comforted and challenged you as you navigated the complexities of your emotions.

Each day with the distance, your heart kept making a way towards Nanami–sensei, slowly weaving themselves into the fabric of your life in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. You found yourself looking forward to his classes with an eagerness that surprised you, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of seeing him, hearing his voice, and perhaps catching one of those brief, meaningful glances that seemed to hold a world of unspoken understanding.

Your interactions with him took on a new significance. Every exchange, no matter how small, became a moment to savor. You began to notice the little things about him—the way he would adjust his tie with meticulous precision, the way his eyes softened when he spoke to you, the subtle way his lips would curve into a faint smile when you managed to make him laugh. These details became precious to you, feeding the growing affection in your heart.

But with that growing affection came a gnawing anxiety. You were all too aware of the delicate nature of your feelings, and the fear of rejection loomed large in your mind. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if your admiration was one-sided, a product of your own need for comfort and connection? The thought of losing the quiet understanding and support he offered terrified you, and so you kept your feelings hidden, tucked away in the quiet corners of your heart.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried to keep your emotions in check, they found ways to surface. You noticed that you began to linger after class, hoping for a few extra moments with him. You found yourself volunteering for tasks you knew would require his guidance, just to have an excuse to be near him. And when he asked you how you were doing, his concern evident in his voice, you felt a pang of longing so intense it nearly took your breath away.

And then, one afternoon, as you were gathering your things after class, Nanami Kento and you bumped into each other. You blinked as you stopped. When you realized who he was, you gasped and bowed. You started to apologize to him. There was a hesitation in his movements, an uncharacteristic uncertainty that made your heart race. 

“I’m so sorry, Nanami-sensei. I didn’t mean it—” you stammered, your voice trembling with the weight of unsaid words. The apology slipped out before you could fully process it, driven by a fear that you had somehow crossed a line, exposing too much of yourself.

Nanami’s expression remained calm, his eyes studying you with an unreadable intensity. For a moment, you feared that you had made things awkward, that the fragile connection between you might shatter under the pressure of your emotions.

But then, with a gentleness that both surprised and reassured you, he spoke. “May I walk you to your next class?” His voice was low and steady, grounding you in the moment. But there was something else in his tone, a subtle shift that hinted at a deeper concern, a connection that went beyond the formal boundaries of teacher and student.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. The offer was simple, yet the way he framed it made it feel like more—a gesture of care, a quiet acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you.

Unable to trust your voice, you nodded, grateful for the reprieve. Together, you fell into step, the silence between you heavy with unsaid thoughts, yet comforting in its familiarity. 

As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder if Nanami sensed the turmoil within you, if he understood the depth of what you had tried to keep hidden. And as the campus buzzed quietly around you, the world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a moment suspended in time.

Finally, he spoke, his voice breaking the silence with a gentleness that caught you off guard. “You seem... different lately.” he said, his words careful, as if he was treading on fragile ground. “Is everything alright?”

The concern in his voice was genuine, and it took everything in you to hold back the flood of emotions that his words triggered. You wanted to tell him everything, to pour out your heart and confess the feelings that had been building inside you for so long. But the fear held you back, kept your words locked away.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.”

He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

His words were a lifeline, and for a moment, you were tempted to grab hold, to let yourself be vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be since your grandfather’s passing. But the fear of what might happen if you did—if you let him see how deeply you had fallen for him—kept you silent.

Instead, you offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Nanami-sensei. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment longer before he looked away, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. But even as the silence returned, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed between you. 

Yuuji, ever the perceptive brother, began to pick up on the changes in you with his usual blend of curiosity and teasing. He’d comment on your newfound enthusiasm for school, his tone lighthearted and playful.

“Wow, someone’s really getting into their classes these days.” he’d say, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Are you trying to impress a certain someone?”

But behind his teasing, there was always a hint of concern in his eyes. He knew you well enough to sense when something was amiss, even if you were trying your best to mask it. The bond between you and Yuuji has always been strong, built on shared experiences and mutual support. Now, with only the two of you facing the world, his worry for you was palpable.

You were acutely aware of his concern, but discussing your feelings for Nanami–sensei felt like navigating a minefield. It was a topic too delicate, too intricate to lay bare. The emotions you were grappling with were still forming, shifting and evolving in ways you couldn’t fully articulate. The fear of misunderstanding, the potential for things to become awkward or strained, made it almost impossible to open up to Yuuji about it.

So you chose to keep your feelings close, wrapped in the quiet spaces of your heart. Whenever Yuuji’s concern for you surfaced, you would offer a reassuring smile and change the subject, deflecting his probing questions with practiced ease. 

“Just trying to find my footing, bro.” you’d say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “You know how it is, trying to make the most of a new start.”

“You sure?” He asks you, a warm concern in his eyes. 

You smiled at him. “I do. I’m fine. Really.”

Yuuji would accept your evasions with a nod, his worry temporarily set aside as he shifted his focus to lighter matters. But you could see the question in his eyes, the unspoken concern that lingered even as he attempted to mask it with humor. 

In your heart, you appreciated his concern more than you could express. But the feelings you had for Nanami remained a private struggle, something you needed to work through on your own before you could even begin to share it with anyone, even Yuuji. For now, you hold onto the fragile hope that, in time, you would find a way to navigate your emotions, to understand them and perhaps, one day, to share them without fear.

As you continued to go through your days, the quiet moments with Nanami remained a solace and a source of intense longing. His presence in your life was a beacon, guiding you through the uncertainty of your new surroundings. And though you struggled with the weight of your feelings, you found a measure of comfort in knowing that he was there, a constant, reassuring presence in the midst of the turmoil.

Your interactions with Nanami–sensei became the highlights of your day. You’d catch his gaze during class, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. There were times when he’d linger after class, asking if you and Yuuji were settling in okay, if you needed anything. His concern felt genuine, and every time he spoke to you, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest.

But with that warmth came uncertainty. Nanami was your sensei, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a protector for you and your brother. The lines between student and teacher, between gratitude and affection, were blurring in ways that scared you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he could ever see you as anything more than just a student or a young person in need of guidance.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn to him more and more, despite your best efforts to keep your emotions in check. There were moments when you thought you caught something in his eyes, a softness that made you wonder if he might feel something too. But those moments were fleeting, gone before you could fully grasp them.

Still, the longing grew, becoming an ache that you couldn’t ignore. You yearned for more than just his care and concern; you wanted to be closer to him, to know him beyond the walls of the classroom. But the fear of rejection, of ruining the fragile bond you had with him, kept you silent.

The conflict within you was a constant companion, as you tried to navigate your feelings while maintaining the façade of normalcy. You knew that falling in love with Nanami was risky, that it could lead to heartache, but your heart seemed to have a mind of its own, pushing you toward him despite the potential consequences.

You lingered in the classroom long after the other students had left, your movements slow and deliberate as you packed your bag. The quiet of the room was comforting, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind. Yuuji had already gone off to his club activities, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and with Nanami.

As you reached for your bag, you felt a pair of eyes on you, an almost tangible weight that drew your gaze. Glancing up, you saw Nanami watching you from his desk, his expression thoughtful, a subtle crease forming between his brows.

His eyes, usually so composed and distant, now held a depth that seemed to reflect his internal contemplation. The warmth of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you felt like it had narrowed to just the two of you.

You could feel the pull of his attention, the way it lingered on you with a quiet intensity. It was as if he was searching for something, trying to understand a part of you that you hadn’t yet revealed. The weight of his gaze was both comforting and unnerving, a silent conversation that spoke volumes.

Trying to steady yourself, you offered him a tentative smile, hoping it would convey the reassurance you struggled to articulate. But his eyes remained fixed on you, and you wondered what thoughts were running through his mind.

“You’re still here this late.” he said, his voice gentle in the stillness. “Everything alright?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. “Yeah, I just… needed a moment to myself.”

Nanami nodded, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He stopped a few feet away, leaning casually against the desk beside you, his arms crossed. Despite his composed demeanor, there was something warm in his gaze, something that made your heart flutter.

“It’s been a lot to adjust to, hasn’t it?” he said, his voice low and steady. “A new town, new school, after everything that’s happened.”

You looked down, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your bag. “Yeah, it has. But… having you here has helped. More than you know, sensei.”

There was a pause, and when you dared to look up, you saw that his expression had softened even more. The usual sternness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a gentleness that made your breath catch.

“I’m glad I could help you.” Nanami replied quietly. He uncrossed his arms, his hand almost reaching out to you before he stopped himself, letting it fall to his side. “You have been through a lot. It’s only natural to need support.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. The way he spoke, the concern in his voice—it was all too much, and yet not enough. You wanted to say more, to tell him how much his presence meant to you, how much you looked forward to these moments alone with him. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Nanami Kento seemed to sense your inner turmoil. He stepped a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you know you can come to me, right?”

The sincerity in his voice, the closeness of his presence—it made something inside you ache. You wanted so badly to close the distance between you, to feel his arms around you, to find comfort in his embrace. But you knew you couldn’t. Not yet.

“I know, sensei.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Thank you… for everything.”

He smiled then, a small, rare smile that sent warmth flooding through you. “You don’t have to thank me. Just… take care of yourself. And your brother Yuuji, too. He seems like a good young man too.”

You nodded again, but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back at him one last time. He was still watching you, that same gentle look in his eyes, and you knew then that your feelings were undeniable.

As you walked out of the classroom, your heart felt heavier with the weight of your unspoken emotions, but there was also a small, flickering hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Nanami could feel the same way.

But even then, you were acutely aware of your limitations and the vast knowledge gap that existed between you and Nanami. He was older, more experienced, a man who had seen and done so much more than you could even imagine. It wasn’t just his age or his wisdom that set him apart—it was the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence and a sense of purpose that you found both admirable and intimidating.

As much as you were drawn to him, a part of you couldn’t help but doubt whether your feelings could ever be returned. You were still so young, barely stepping into adulthood, while Nanami had long since found his place in the world. What could someone like him possibly see in you? The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a constant reminder of the distance between you.

And then there was the fear—the fear that he might not like you in the way you hoped. He was kind to you, yes, and he looked out for you and Yuuji with a care that went beyond mere duty. But did that kindness stem from affection, or was it simply his nature to protect those who needed it? You didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

The truth was, you couldn’t see how he would ever reciprocate your feelings. He was your professor, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a guardian in your life. To him, you were just a student, someone who needed guidance and support, not a romantic partner. And yet, despite all your doubts and fears, you couldn’t stop the way your heart leapt whenever you were near him.

The rational part of you tried to suppress those feelings, to remind yourself of the unlikelihood of anything ever happening between you. But the heart has a way of ignoring logic, and yours had latched onto Nanami in a way that was becoming impossible to ignore. You were in love with him, even if you couldn’t say it aloud, even if you didn’t think he could ever feel the same way.

So, you kept those feelings locked away, hidden behind polite smiles and carefully chosen words. It was safer that way, less painful than risking rejection. But even as you tried to push your emotions aside, you knew that they were there, just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest opportunity to break free.

After a particularly long day of classes, you and Yuuji walked home together under the fading light of the setting sun. His friends were going to be busy tonight, so you were able to go home together. He insisted to help you with your school bag, but you kept insisting that it was fine. Yet, he was your older brother (by four minutes) and had pulled that card and carried your bag for you anyway.  

The countryside was quiet, the only sounds being the crunch of gravel beneath your shoes and the distant chirping of crickets. Yuuji had been unusually quiet, and you could feel his eyes on you every now and then, as if he was trying to gauge something. Finally, as you neared your home, he spoke up.

"Hey, you’ve been acting kinda different lately." Yuuji said, his tone light but tinged with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You glanced at him, caught off guard by his sudden observation. "Different? What do you mean?"

Yuuji shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I don’t know. You just seem… I don’t know, distracted? Like your mind’s somewhere else. I noticed you’ve been staying late at school a lot too."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks and quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. "It’s nothing, really. Just trying to keep up with everything, I guess."

But Yuuji wasn’t so easily convinced. He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. "It’s more than that, isn’t it? You know you can talk to me, right? We’re in this together."

There was no escaping it now. You sighed, knowing that Yuuji wasn’t going to let this go. "It’s just… there’s a lot on my mind. And yeah, I’ve been thinking about someone."

Yuuji raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Someone? Like who?"

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. Finally, you admitted, "It’s Nanami-sensei."

Yuuji blinked, processing this information. "Nanami-sensei? Our professor Nanami? Who’s like… way older than you?"

You winced at the bluntness of his words. "Yeah, I know. It’s not exactly… ideal."

Yuuji softened, realizing that this was something you were struggling with. "Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… didn’t expect it, that’s all. I mean, he’s a good guy, but… you really like him, don’t you?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at finally saying it out loud. "I do. But it’s complicated, Yuuji. He’s older....and I don’t even know if he’d ever see me that way....I doubt it. I feel like I’m just setting myself up for disappointment. And it’s not…It’s not right. There’s so much wrong with it. I know.”

Yuuji frowned, deep in thought. "That’s a tough spot to be in. But you know, Nanami-sensei seems to care about you a lot. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re okay. Maybe there’s more there than you think."

You shook your head, the doubts creeping back in. "Or maybe he’s just being kind because he knows we’ve been through a lot. It’s not like he’d ever look at me the way I look at him. It’s….It’s wrong.”

Yuuji placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. “Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, it doesn’t mean you’re not worth it. You deserve to feel some happiness. Even if you never say it to him. Even if you don’t act on it, it’s how you feel. Wrong or right, it’s still human feelings, isn’t it?”

“I just… What should I do? It’s going to be bad, Yuuji. I don’t want to do things that would be bad for me and especially for Nanami-sensei. Over my childish feelings.”

Yuuji’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and determination. “Listen, it’s not about being childish. Feelings are complicated and real, and they don’t just go away because we want them to. What matters is how you handle them.”

He paused, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe the best thing you can do right now is to take things one step at a time. Figure out what’s best without rushing or putting yourself in a difficult position."

You listened, trying to absorb his words. They offered a sense of perspective, a reminder that navigating your feelings didn’t have to be an all-or-nothing endeavor. Yuuji’s encouragement made you feel less isolated in your struggle, less like you were facing this alone.

“Thanks, bro.” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of both gratitude and the lingering uncertainty. “I guess I just need to give myself a bit more grace, and maybe, take a step back to really understand what’s best.”

Yuuji nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. “Exactly. Give yourself the space to figure things out, and don’t be too hard on yourself. Emotions are messy, and that’s okay, hm?”

You looked at him, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Yuuji. I really needed to hear that."

He grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "What are brothers for? Besides, I kinda want to see how this turns out."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. For now, the future was still uncertain, but at least you knew you had Yuuji by your side, no matter what happened next. And maybe, he was all you needed. Because at the end of the day, you know how it will all work out. How it will all end. But you let yourself dream anyway. 

You were idealistic, often finding yourself lost in daydreams where you would gather the courage to approach Nanami. In those fantasies, you imagined asking him for patience, telling him that one day, when the time was right, you would be ready to offer your love completely. You pictured yourself standing before him, your heart in your hands, promising that with time, you could bridge the gap between your worlds.

But deep down, you knew this was nothing more than romantic idealism—a longing to experience a love that felt as profound as the feelings you harbored for him. The desire to be seen, to be cherished by someone as steadfast and admirable as Nanami Kento, was powerful, but it was also grounded in a reality you couldn’t ignore.

As much as you wanted to believe that your love could transcend the differences between you, there was a part of you that understood the truth. You were too young, too inexperienced, and no matter how much you grew, there would always be a gap that time alone couldn’t close. Nanami–sensei wasn’t just older—he was wiser, more grounded, and had already lived through phases of life that you had yet to experience.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he likely wouldn’t want to love someone younger, someone who was still finding their place in the world. His kindness toward you, his care and concern, came from a place of responsibility, not from the kind of romantic interest you wished for. You knew that he saw you as a student, maybe even as someone who needed guidance, but not as an equal partner in love.

This understanding brought with it a quiet, bittersweet resignation. You loved Nanami, perhaps more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but you knew that he wasn’t the one for you. The future you imagined, where you and Nanami could be together, was a beautiful dream, but it was just that—a dream.

As much as it hurt to admit, you knew you had to let go of that dream, to accept that some things, no matter how deeply you wished for them, weren’t meant to be.

The days that followed were a mix of emotions—moments where you felt determined to move on, followed by others where your heart clung stubbornly to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But as time passed, reality became harder to ignore, and you found yourself slowly coming to terms with the truth.

You still admired Nanami–sensei, still cared for him deeply, but you began to see him in a different light. Instead of focusing on the impossible, you tried to appreciate what you did have—a mentor who genuinely cared for your well-being, someone who had guided you through a difficult period of your life. It wasn’t the romantic love you had dreamed of, but it was something valuable, something that had shaped you in ways you hadn’t fully understood before.

In your quieter moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, you allowed yourself to grieve the loss of that dream. It was painful to let go, but you knew it was necessary. Holding on to something that could never be would only cause more heartache in the long run.

═════╰☆╮═════

HE KNOWS THAT HE’S NOT A GOOD MAN. Because what good man can feel like this? Nanami Kento had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to keep a clear head no matter the situation. It was a skill honed through years of experience, of facing the harsh realities of life and coming out on the other side with a firm grip on his emotions. But lately, that control had begun to slip, and it all started with you.

At first, he dismissed the subtle changes in his behavior as nothing more than his natural inclination to look after those who needed guidance. You and Yuuji had been through a lot, and it was only right that he, as your teacher, offered support where he could. But as the days turned into weeks, he couldn’t ignore the way his thoughts kept drifting back to you—your quiet resilience, your gentle smiles, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you were passionate about.

It wasn’t long before he realized the truth: he was growing attached to you in ways that went far beyond the boundaries of a student-teacher relationship. It was a realization that troubled him deeply, shaking the foundations of the discipline he had built his life upon.

Nanami noticed the way your eyes lingered on him, the subtle shifts in your demeanor whenever you were around him. He wasn’t blind to the affection you tried so hard to keep hidden, the way you seemed to seek out his presence, even if only for a few moments of conversation. There were times when he almost allowed himself to reciprocate, to let his guard down and acknowledge the feelings that were steadily growing in his chest.

But each time, he pulled back, reminding himself of the stark reality of your situation. You were young, with your whole life ahead of you, full of potential and promise. You deserve someone who could match your energy, someone who could grow with you, not someone like him—someone who had already been worn down by the world, who had seen and done things he wished he could forget.

It wasn’t fair to you, he thought, to burden you with the affections of a man who had lost his youth, who had seen too much to ever be truly carefree again. You deserved more than what he could offer, and the thought of tainting your bright future with the shadows of his past was unbearable.

So, Nanami Kento buried his feelings deep inside, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt you—or him. He told himself that it was the right thing to do, that maintaining a professional distance was the only way to protect you both. But no matter how hard he tried, those feelings remained, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to break free at the slightest provocation.

There were moments when he questioned his resolve, when the weight of his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. But each time, he steeled himself, knowing that this was a line he couldn’t cross. He cared too much about you to allow himself to be selfish, to act on feelings that could only lead to pain and regret.

In the end, Nanami chose to distance himself, subtly at first, hoping you wouldn’t notice. He still checked in on you, still offered his guidance when you needed it, but he made sure to keep a barrier between you, a wall that kept his emotions firmly in check. It was agonizing, knowing that he was pushing away something that could have been beautiful, but he knew it was the only way to ensure that you remained unscathed by the harsh realities of his world.

You were too precious, too full of life, to be drawn into the darkness that he carried with him. And so, Nanami resolved to watch over you from afar, to be the steady presence you could rely on, but never more than that. It was his duty, his responsibility, to protect you—not just from the dangers of the world, but from himself as well.

No matter how much it hurt, no matter how strong his feelings for you became, Nanami knew he had to bury them deep, where they would never see the light of day. It was the only way to ensure that you remained untouched by the shadows of his past, free to find a love that was worthy of you, even if that love could never be his.

Nanami Kento had been wrestling with his emotions in solitude, believing that burying his feelings was the only way to protect you from the shadows of his past. It was a decision made with the utmost care, a sacrifice he felt necessary to ensure your happiness. But his internal struggle did not go unnoticed by his colleagues, Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri, who were perceptive enough to sense that something was troubling their friend.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day, Gojo and Shoko decided to check in on Nanami. They found him in the teachers’ lounge, sitting alone with a cup of tea, his expression distant. Gojo, ever the perceptive one, noted the pensive look on Nanami’s face and exchanged a glance with Shoko before approaching him.

“Hey, Nanami!” Gojo greeted, his tone casual but with an underlying concern. “You’ve been a bit off lately. Everything okay?”

Nanami looked up, masking his emotions with a practiced smile. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothing to worry about.”

Shoko, who had been quietly observing, took a seat beside him. “It’s clear something’s bothering you. You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

Nanami’s smile faltered, and he sighed deeply, feeling the weight of his hidden feelings press heavily on him. “I appreciate your concern. It’s just… some feelings are better left buried.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Feelings, huh? Sounds like there’s more to it than just a heavy workload.”

Nanami hesitated before speaking, his voice low. “I’ve been trying to protect someone from my own shortcomings. It’s not fair for them to be burdened with my past, my complexities.”

Shoko’s eyes softened with understanding. “It sounds like you’re talking about… someone important. Someone who means a lot to you.”

Nanami nodded, his gaze fixed on his tea. “Yes, someone who deserves better than what I can offer. It’s better this way.”

Gojo, always one to push boundaries, leaned forward, his expression serious. “Nanami, it’s okay to feel like love is unattainable. It’s okay to have feelings and to struggle with them. But don’t forget that you’re human too. You deserve happiness, even if it’s complicated. And even if you don’t act on it. Feeling it is not wrong.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been carrying this burden alone, trying to shield someone else from your own pain. But it’s important to acknowledge your own feelings, to give yourself permission to be vulnerable. Especially for this person.”

Nanami looked between them, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. “But what if my feelings could only cause more harm? What if being honest means jeopardizing their well-being? I know it will.”

Gojo shook his head, a small smile forming. “Sometimes, it’s not about whether your feelings will cause harm. It’s about being true to yourself and giving yourself the chance to experience what you deserve. Love isn’t always straightforward, and it’s not always fair. But it’s part of the human experience. Acted on or not, it’s what it is, isn’t it?”

Shoko reached out, placing a comforting hand on Nanami’s shoulder. “You’ve done so much for others. It’s time to think about yourself too. It’s okay to be vulnerable, to let yourself feel and to hope for something more, even if it feels unattainable.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he looked down at his hands, the weight of their words sinking in. “I’ve been so focused on protecting them, on making sure they don’t suffer because of me. I didn’t realize how much I’ve neglected my own needs.”

Gojo smiled, his tone light but encouraging. “We all have our struggles. It’s part of being human. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have friends who care about you, who want you to be happy.”

Shoko gave him a reassuring nod. “And it’s okay to take steps towards finding your own happiness, even if it means confronting difficult feelings. Even if you don’t think it will be reality. You deserve a chance to experience love, just as much as anyone else.”

Nanami took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Thank you. It’s good to hear that. I’ve been so focused on the right thing to do that I forgot about what I need.”

Nanami had been immersed in his work that day, focusing on grading papers and preparing for upcoming lectures. He had anticipated a quiet day, free from the usual flurry of students and administrative tasks. It was your day off from school—a rare break for you to focus on your thesis, and he had expected you to be busy with your academic responsibilities.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, Nanami couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had noticed a subtle change in your demeanor over the past week, an undercurrent of sadness that was difficult to ignore. He had hoped you’d find solace in your time away from school, but now, the thought of you potentially seeking him out was unsettling.

When he heard the knock on his office door, he glanced up with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He wasn’t expecting you to be here today, not when you had so much on your plate. The sound of the knock was soft but persistent, and it made him pause, his thoughts drifting from his work to the possibility of seeing you.

You stood outside his office, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. The past week had been particularly rough—filled with long nights and overwhelming emotions. The weight of your feelings for Nanami, combined with the challenge of coming to terms with them, had left you feeling both vulnerable and resolute. You had been wrestling with your emotions, trying to find a way to move forward, but it was proving more difficult than you had anticipated.

The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound that accompanied your thoughts. You had wrestled with the decision to come here, weighing the need for closure against the fear of complicating things further. Yet, the idea of not expressing your feelings and finding some resolution gnawed at you, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to face the uncertainty head-on. You lifted your hand and knocked again, this time with more resolve. The sound echoed through the hallway, signaling your intent to have a conversation that had been on your mind for days.

Inside the office, Nanami’s thoughts were interrupted by the knock. He stood up, smoothing his jacket, and approached the door. When he opened it, he was met with the sight of you standing there, looking both determined and apprehensive.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm despite the surprise and concern he felt.

You looked up at him, a mix of anxiety and resolve in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I know it’s my day off, but… I needed to talk to you.”

Nanami stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. “Of course. Come in.”

You entered his office, feeling the comforting, yet intimidating, presence of the space that had been a backdrop to many of your interactions. The room was orderly, with neatly arranged papers and a sense of calm that contrasted with the storm of emotions you were feeling.

As you settled into a chair, Nanami took his place behind his desk, his gaze steady and attentive. “What’s on your mind?”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing against your resolve. “I’ve been struggling with my feelings for you. It’s been difficult to process, and I realized that I need some closure. I thought it might help if I talked to you about it.”

Nanami listened, his expression a mix of empathy and sadness. He had been preparing for this conversation, though not in the way he had hoped. The feelings he had tried so hard to suppress now seemed to rise to the surface, as he saw the vulnerability in your eyes.

“It’s not easy to hear.” Nanami said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s even harder to find the right words. I’ve been trying to navigate this situation carefully, but I realize now that you deserve more than just silence.”

You looked up at him, finding his smile to be tinged with a deep sadness that made your heart ache. Nanami crossed his arms, his gaze meeting yours with a weight of unspoken emotions. 

“Most of all, my little one….” he continued, his voice steady but filled with a profound melancholy. “You deserve better than an old, unpassionate man like me.”

The words hung in the air between you, a painful truth that cut through the space. His admission, though gentle, was laced with a somber acknowledgment of the reality that had become so clear. It was as if he was trying to shield you from the hurt of unfulfilled expectations while grappling with his own feelings of inadequacy.

You could see the strain in his eyes, the conflict of wanting to comfort you while also maintaining the boundaries he felt were necessary. It was a moment of raw honesty, one that left you with a deep sense of both empathy and sorrow.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Nanami's words settled between you. His gaze remained steady, but there was an undeniable vulnerability in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that had become apparent.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on you. “I didn’t come here expecting an easy answer, or my feelings to be returned, sensei.” you said softly, trying to steady your voice. “I just needed to express what I’ve been feeling and to understand where we stand.”

Nanami nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and sadness. “I appreciate your courage in coming forward. It’s not easy to confront these feelings, especially when the outcome is uncertain.”

There was a pause as you both took a moment to absorb the gravity of the conversation. Nanami leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk as if trying to ground himself in the face of his emotions. 

“I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. Even if they're not what should be. But I also understand that the situation we’re in is far from ideal. It’s not just about what I want but what’s best for you. What you need matters more than what I want.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill. “I understand. I really do. It’s just… hard to accept that something so strong and real can’t find a way to work out.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he reached out, resting his hand gently on top of yours. The contact was brief but comforting, a silent gesture of support and understanding. 

“It’s difficult, and it’s painful. But sometimes, love means making choices that are hard and painful for the sake of someone else’s well–being. Love is letting go, too. And I believe that’s what I need to do now. Because if my love for you is true, then I would let you go. And let you live a life that you deserve, hm?”

You nodded, feeling the sting of his words but also the clarity they brought. “Thank you for being honest with me. I guess I needed to hear this, to understand where we really stand. To…to have closure.”

Nanami offered a sad smile, one that seemed to carry the weight of his own regrets and hopes for you. “I hope you find someone who can truly cherish you for who you are. You deserve someone who can give you the kind of love and support that I might not be able to offer.”

The finality of his words hung in the air, and you could sense the depth of his feelings—both for you and the situation you found yourselves in. As you stood up to leave, you felt a sense of bittersweet closure, a recognition of the reality that had to be faced.

“Take care of yourself, little one.” Nanami said softly as you made your way to the door. ”I hope you'll always be happy."

You offered him a small, grateful smile, a mixture of sadness and appreciation in your eyes. “Thank you, Nanami–sensei. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you stepped out of his office, the weight of the conversation settled heavily on your shoulders. But along with the heaviness, there was also a sense of resolution. You had faced your feelings head-on, and though the outcome wasn’t what you had hoped for, you felt a renewed sense of clarity and a readiness to move forward.

Nanami Kento watched you go, his heart heavy but his mind clear. He hoped, more than anything, that you would find the happiness and love that you deserved, even if it was not with him. He'd have to leave soon. He thinks that it would be better, if he keeps his distance from now on. You do not need him anymore. And that's for the best.

And as the door closed behind you, he allowed himself a moment of reflection, grappling with the bittersweet nature of his own emotions and the hope that, in time, both of you would find a path that led to fulfillment and peace.

[gguk-n]

Hate you (Lando Norris x Reader)

{Lando's POV}

As I lay in my bed, the sheets felt cold, devoid of any warmth; as if their previous owner had taken it all with them. I found myself staring at ceiling after spending the better part of the night twisting and turning in my bed.

"Lan, babe" she whispered, "can't sleep?" she asked. My eyes locked with her, a gap in between us while we lay in bed. As if on queue, she opened her arms, "come here" she mumbled. "I'm too sleepy to be still awake" she continued. I scooted closer, into her arms. I found myself laying on her open arm while the other wrapped it self around my shoulder; our legs tangling themselves in each other. "Go to sleep, love" she whispered while her hand raked through my hair and kissed my forehead. I heard the rhythmic beating of her heart, lulling me to sleep.

A tear slipped out of my eyes, pooling on the pillow case under me. I spent the entire night tossing and turning as I tried to chase the sleep that never came to me. Morning couldn't come any sooner, I decided to head out to the gym and get done with my work out and exercise for the day. It helped my thoughts from running rampant as I focused my energy on the task at hand. As I opened the door, "Babe, I'm back" I called out, only to be met with the cold gust of wind that blew at me. I slowly walked into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab myself something to eat. It was empty.

"Lan, here, I heated up your breakfast for you." she said, handing me a bowl of the diet food I was supposed to eat, as recommended by my trainer. But her cooking made the food so much more delicious and I never felt like I was ever on a diet. I pecked her lips while grabbing the bowl from her hands. "What would I do without you?" I asked with a laugh. "Crash and burn" she replied proudly turning to get back to meal prepping for me.

The last time I had asked my trainer to send me my pre-cooked meals was years ago. Since we had started dating, she had taken the role of making my food. The fridge now lay barren, a remnant of her absence. I poured myself a glass of water and went back to my room.

The bedroom felt like a hotel room, devoid of any character. My stuff lay sprawled out on the floor. The small trinkets or the photo frames that adorned my side table were missing. The dressing table looked cold and my closet empty.

"Babe, you're gonna have to buy new hangers, a couple more towels and some cleaning supply." she called out as she unpacked her bag for the first time as she moved into my our flat. "You know what my card pin is, order whatever you need" I replied. "I'm gonna stock up on my skin care too" she teased. "You can buy the Kohinoor diamond if you want" I teased back. I could hear her laugh echo through out, making my heart warm and fuzzy. She spent the next couple of months turning my stock image of a flat into a home. There were clothes, books, magazines, utensils and candles decorating our home. She took her time making this place ours.

Right now, our my home was back to it's stock image self. All the picture frames and the candles were empty and missing their owner. I stepped into the shower to find the shelf empty which was usually filled with all her shampoos and conditioners.

"It's a good thing" she said as she massaged the shampoo into my scalp. "What is?" I asked, enjoying the sensation. "The fact that the both of us have curly hair. Your hair's taking my products pretty well" she replied. "Yeah, you've made me hotter than I already am" I joked. "Hair can do a lot for a man" she said solemnly. "I'll wash this out and we'll try the new conditioner and curling cream I got yesterday" she giggled while grabbing the bottles.

My hair was a mess since she left. I never paid attention to what she used, she's always make me look even more handsome than I was. I got done with the shower and decided to grab something to eat from outside and left the house with the keys to my McLaren. I hadn't taken the Lambo out since she left because it was her favourite car and it smelled like her.

The next couple of day were spent without much sleep and the most outer body experience. I found myself at the club asking the bartend to get me drink after drink to drown out my sorrow. I kept telling my self that she was selfish and she never thought about me before breaking up. I drowned drink after drink lamenting the lost of the best person I knew. She was selfish, she broke my heart and took it with her. It wasn't fair on me since she decided to prioritise herself and forget all the good times we had; I told myself. "I hate her" I mumbled as I downed another glass of whiskey. Before I know it, Max was wrapping his arm around my waist and walking me back to his car. I didn't feel as inebriated as I wished I did, to not be able to remember anything.

She had been anxious the whole weekend, fidgeting with her fingers as she sat in my drivers room. Every time I asked her about it, she would brush me off. I decided not to press her wait for her to spill it out. After the race on Sunday, we headed back on the private jet, just the two of us. The flight wasn't very long and I couldn't wait to get home. Her posture had gotten even more tense then before. "Lando, we need to talk" she said barely above a whisper. This couldn't be good, she never called me by my name. Her hands clasped and unclasped themselves while she rocked a bit on her heels. "I got an offer, from that video game company that I love" she began. "That's great news baby" I lunged forward holding her hands. She pulled her hands away from me, "They are based in Australia" she spoke. "That doesn't matter. You'll be working remotely anyways." I suggested. "Actually" she spoke, "They want me to come in to the office, since the new game they are working on is top secret and it's a big deal for them too" she finished. "Well I can travel with you whenever you need and you can come and go" I suggested. "I might not be able to come to any races or stay in Monaco for the next couple of years" she said tentatively. "What" I almost screamed. "How can you make such a decision without talking with me?" I shouted. "I never made the decision. It's just that, this is like a dream come true for me, you know" she replied meekly with tears in her eyes. "You don't care about me. How can you be so selfish?" I cried out. "baby, I'm not, I...this is a once in a life time opportunity" she croaked out. "You don't love me" I mumbled. "What no, baby" she reached out to hold my face in between her hands, but I was angry and I pushed her away. How could she be so selfish and decide to move away after so many years together? "I love you, I really do but we talked about how long distance was a deal breaker for you, so I wanted to discuss this with you" she cried out. "yeah, it is. I can't imagine being away from the one I love" I spat out. "I love you Lando, I really do but this my dream like Formula one is yours" she whimpered. "You can't be serious right" I muttered. It was the anger talking; before thinking it through; "We're done" I said in a sharp voice. I got up from my seat and walked away to the door since we had just landed.

She ran after me, begging me to reconsider but I was too angry and I wasn't thinking straight. I broke up with her and didn't even look back. I stayed back at Max's place as she emptied out the apartment. All I could do was hate her for not wanting to stay, to numb the pain away.

The next morning I woke up to a note from Max and a glass of water with some pain meds. I drank the water and took my medicines. As I placed the glass back, my finger got caught in the lowest drawer of my side table which came open as I moved away. In front me lay polaroids from our dates. The one's I had taken. The top one was of her sending a flying kiss and the one next to it was of us kissing. It hurt seeing these, now. I couldn’t help but cry. I knew, deep down that the only way I would be able to make the pain go away was by making her the villain even though she wasn't one; because I was selfish and didn't want to feel the hurt.

[spamton-deactivated19970420]

i made a little hand-sewn beast based on everydayspamton's drawing & took it with me on a family roadtrip

if you'd like to make your own, i've included the [[FREE]] pattern & some rough steps below the cut, as well as an Educational Video

EDUCATIONAL VIDEO. THIS IS NATURAL SPAMFISH BEHAVIOR & IT IS NOT SCARED OR IN PAIN.

BEAST CRAFTING INSTRUCTIONS:

disclaimer: i'm an amateur & i've never tried making a pattern before, nor have i ever tried writing directions

materials you'll need:

sewing needle & pins

black thread & white thread

fabric in these colors - black, white, red, yellow, & pink

stuffing

(optional) a squeaker

notes:

for the thread, i suggest something thicker, like whats used for embroidery - i used two different thicknesses on mine, & i think the thicker one; (the black thread); stands out a lot nicer

for the fabric, i used craft felt. its nice because its cheap & malleable, but if you want something that can actually be washed & played with without disintegrating on you, don't use felt. different fabrics will have different results, though, & may not give you a clean-looking edge & lines

you can also just go nuts & use whatever colors of thread/fabric you want, make pattern alterations, whatever

if you make one, feel free to @ me, send an ask or DM me with it, i'd love to see!

^^^ here's the pattern!

now the actual steps?:

1.) download & print out the pattern - it should(?) fit normally across a regular sheet of printer paper. i don't have exact measurements, i eyeballed this whole thing & then lost the original pattern - (there's only a copy that i scanned & edited left on my computer. woops.)

2.) cut the pieces out. pin the patterns to the fabric color the instructions call for, & cut out the number you need for each

^^^ here's what you should end up with!

now the sewing! for this whole thing i used doubled-up thread & a 'running stitch', then went over it a secondary time with another running stitch to fill in the gaps. you could also try using a 'back stitch' (which i don't know how to do), but that might be tougher. the goal here is to give it an Outlined look, like a drawing

3.) with white thread, sew the pink & yellow eyes onto the glasses - pink is Left, yellow is Right. reference the image above if you're not sure!

4.) sew all the fins pieces together - on the black fin, use white thread; & on the white fins, use black thread. reference the pattern for the detailing. i made my own front fins 'wrong', but you don't really have worry too much about being exact

5.) overlap the Head pieces onto the Body pieces - making sure you have a Left and Right side! pin the heads to the bodies, & compare their lengths by holding them together to make sure you've got it right. sew the heads to the bodies using black thread. detail the head with black thread, & detail the body with white thread

6.) now that you've got the two sides of the body completed, you can hold them together to try to get even placement for the red cheeks. pin each cheek to each side, then sew them on with white thread

7.) using black thread, sew the pink glasses onto the Left side of the body, and the yellow glasses onto the Right side. they'll be slightly overlapping the cheeks

8.) with white thread, sew the front fins on to each side. NOTE: i put mine on wrong, & didn't realize until i was finished. for the 'right' placement on these (closer to the original drawing), reference the pattern, & not the images

you now have all your parts ready for assembly! for me, this is the hardest part. you'll need a bunch of pins - use the guidelines on the pattern and/or reference the below image to get the right placements

9.) pin in the back fin & the nose. leave some space on the bottom for stuffing when you start, & using black thread, sew together the nose & the fin unto the body - the fin should be sandwiched Between the two body halves

10.) pin in the tail fin. continue sewing down the back with the black thread, & sew the tail fin in - once again, it should be Between the two body halves

11.) pin in the back fin between the halves. continue with the black thread, sew along the tail & sew the back fin in - Stopping once its secured. you should have some good space still open on the belly

12.) time for stuffing. using something thin, but not sharp - like a chopstick or the back of a crochet hook - & push stuffing into the nose & tail portions. stuff the head about halfway. now, if you have a squeaker, put it into the widest part of the head, & stuff a little around it

13.) still using the black thread, sew the belly up a little more so its easier to keep the stuffing in, & then fill up the rest of the body. once fully stuffed, sew the remaining hole together

14.) congrats! you now have a spamfish. if you opted for a squeaker, squeak it thoroughly

don't worry if it's not exact, some individual variation is fun & makes your creature unique! mine has upside-down front fins with upside-down detail lines

here's the thing with some friends i had made a little bit before him. have fun with your beast!

i am not liable for any damage it causes to you or your property

[tokoyamisstuff]

Fragments Pt. 1/3

Homelander / GN! Reader

Ch. 1: Fallen Angel

Summary: After a new drug rendered Homelander both powerless and amnesic, he gets saved by someone blissfully unaware of who he is.

Shoutout to @blindmagdalena who did the impossible: Making me simp for this guy. Your writing is simply impeccable! 💌

Warnings: Injury, blood, lots of exposition, not proofread

Notes: Hurt/comfort, OOC, pre-canon, Scientist! Reader, idc about logic gaps (I will cry if you point them out to me)

Four days already, and he still hasn't woken up.

Winter in the Canadian Arctic was rough, with the polar night bringing permanent darkness, as well as severe snowstorms that could last up to a week.

Luckily enough your old radio communication system was still functioning, so you were at least able to request a few necessities in advance: Food and water for another person, a doctor of course...

...and clothes for the guy you had to cut out of this ridiculous costume to patch him up properly.

Leaning back in your chair, you take some deep breaths, unable to concentrate on your work. Your glance unwillingly wanders back to the man lying on your bed, still unconscious.

Who knows how long the weather will cut you off from help arriving? You just hope he will make it until then.

Maybe it's for the better, though - since whoever had done this to him could still be out there wanting to finish the job, too.

It bordered on a miracle that he landed so close to your research station, when you were outside to notice at that. And the storm followed only shortly after you managed to pull him inside.

That man really had more luck than anything, even while having been messed up like this.

You watch him until you're sure he's still breathing and not in any discomfort, once again catching yourself admiring his handsome features.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was a literal fallen angel that crashed from the goddamn sky, right into your little front yard.

Damn it, the loneliness that came with this job made even your thoughts pathetic...

Well, to your defense, you've been raised pretty isolated your whole life, with parents being a doctor and a scientist that were devoted to spend their work at the most remote areas of the world.

It surely was a unique childhood with lots of traveling, and you were mostly spared the soulless corporate-controlled bullshit that was modern society. To add to that, your parents were never fond of using electronics for more than practical reasons. Not that there was internet connection where you lived either way.

All in all, while you obviously know about supes in general and might even have heard about Homelander the brief time you spent in civilization, the last time you've actually seen his face on a magazine or some sort was decades ago - and you didn't care enough to remember.

So it was no wonder that you were completely oblivious to who exactly was lying in your bed this whole time.

Sighing, you close your laptop with a dramatic gesture before making your way to the kitchen unit. You pour yourself a coffee to fill your rumbling stomach, having rationed the food in favor of your new involuntary roommate.

Having followed the footsteps of your parents - yet without proper funding - you led this mission all by yourself. At first it was bearable, since an elder native couple came to visit and assist you from time to time.

But your work demanded you to stay secluded from human intervention, deep in the mountains with the next tiny village being half a day march away. And now that winter made traveling scarce due to the dangers, the idea of some company certainly wasn't so bad.

You almost felt bad for being excited about him being here - whatever had happened to make him end up here was exactly the oppsite of great, after all.

Even though the emergency power aggregate was whirring loudly, the sound of strained groans reaches your ear - not the first time those past few days. So you immediately rush over to the man's side, pouring him a glass of water and dissolving some painkillers in it.

"It's gonna be alright" you assure him, unable to tell if he can even hear in this state. Blood is seeping through the makeshift bandages, making you realize you should probably reapply them soon. Maybe after the meds had some time to release their effect...

...however, just when the cup touched his lips, two icy blue eyes snapped open, making you wince.

"Don't touch me, fuck!" a raspy voice snapped at you, quite understandable in his situation. He pushed you away from him, causing you to stumble and fall as the glass scattered on the floor right next to you.

"Whe-where am I? And who the fuck are you?!"

"Who the fuck am I?" You felt almost offended at the accusation in his look, having to remind yourself that the person in front of you is in fact in an exceptional situation. "You're in my house. I found you injured in the middle of nowhere. So I should be asking you!"

His face fell in shock at the realization, internal struggle present in his features as he finally whispered - no, whimmered "I...can't remember..."

Racketing his brain around to make sense of the situation, he stumbled across his own words and repeated "I-I-I-I can't remember!"

"Can't remember what exactly?" You spoke more softly now as you got up, tentatively approaching him. He on the other hand jumped up from the bed, panic increasing with every passing second.

"Anything! I-I don't know who I am- shit, what happened?!" He was shaking, muscular chest having as he started to hyperventillate. You hesistantly put your hand on his back, feeling him tense at the sudden contact. "Please don't move too much. You're injured."

Only now he noticed the medical wraps around his chest, abdomen, left arm and both legs. Hell, his whole body was aching but the adrenaline wouldn't let this stop him from standing up, pacing around the small room.

Being overwhelmed with the situation as well, you decided it was best to tell him everything. "D-don't freak out, but we're in the middle of the arctic." Having a feeling that he wouldn't believe you - fair enough, though - you opened the door, revealing a snowy landscape. The doorway was already halfway buried under a snowy blanket, and the heavy winds were biting his exposed skin. "We'll have to wait until the storm settles. And even then, with your injuries you probably won't make it to the nearest village."

There was a long pause of silence between your explanation and his response, blinking at you in both disbelief and despair. "...if you don't know me, then how the hell did I get here?"

"My best guess is that you're a supe" you shrugged, hoping his memory loss didn't also affect his general knowledge. You pointed towards the torn bodysuit in the bin, stating matter-of-factly "You literally fell out of the sky. Even with the snow absorbing part of the impact, you should be dead - especially with those injuries."

Not really good at comforting someone, huh, you internally scolded yourself. Yet you gave it your best to calm him down and sign your goodwill.

"Sit down or your wounds will reopen." After a brief moment of looking at you all forlorn and maybe even a little distrustful, he accepted your help. You led him back to the edge of the bed, sitting next to each other as support for him to stay upright.

"Doesn't feel like anything about this body is 'super' right now..." he joked bitterly, rubbing his sides. You chuckle sympathetic, carefully patting his back in reassurance. "Maybe you don't have access to your powers because of the amnesia? I'm not quite sure how any of this works."

"Yeah, maybe..." His eyes were now locked on you, forcing a weak smile as he finally took a proper look at you. "You still didn't tell me to who I owe my life."

"Me?" as inappropriate as it was for the situation, he did manage to make you flustered just by that - and it didn't really help that he was still only in his underwear, testing your decency not to stare. "Oh, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. I'm an ecologist. Been here for eight months to document the effects of climate change on the biome, and-"

"Climate change?" he rose an eyebrow at you, "There's a goddamn snowstorm outside, woman."

Oh. He was one of those guys. Note taken.

"Anyways" you changed the topic to not provoke a pointless discussion, still unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. "Do you at least remember your name?"

The man clutched the ragged costume you had handed him, forcing his exhausted self to remember something, anything at all...

...but every time he tried, there was a sharp pain in his forehead that tore him away from the memories locked away somewhere in his brain.

And smehow, no matter how insane it might sound, he felt like this was his own mind's subtle warning to better keep it this way.

"I think...my name's John" he ultimately stated, rubbing his temples as his face contorted in pain. You continued rubbing circles on his back in an attempt to comfort him, whispering "Hey, don't overdo it. Focus on healing first, and then we'll see if anything else comes back. Alright?"

John nodded mutely, and you gifted him an uplifting smile, cheering "Well then, nice to officially meet you, John! Feel at home as long as you need."

He shook your hand almost symbolically, feeling almost hopeful knowing that despite the grim situation, he was supported by such a kind stranger.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N. I'm all in your hands."

_____

A/N: This was written on my phone at 1am, so please bear with me. The next chapters are gonna be better.

[Part Two]

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Runaway I (Platonic)

So, what would it happen if Y/N after a lot of time at the hotel, decides to run off and explore the human world? Just like it happened in Helluva Boss I think. This is lighter than the others, but I really wanted to write this one. This could be interpreted as some AU of the Au or even set in the same series after a lot of time has passed.

I know the Grimoire doesn't really look like that and is in the ownership of someone else, but I was thinking that since Lucifer is the King of Hell, he should have at least a copy.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: Controlling behavior, possessive behavior, Alastor being a very controlling dad.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog, @kiraisastay

Things have gotten much better for you since you first arrived. It had finally gotten inside your thick skull that this experience was for real. As crazed as Charlie's dream seemed to be, you couldn't help but believe in her and her goals, given her optimism and enthusiasm. You could say this place was safer than anywhere else you had been crashing for the last ninety years.

But the safety of a place didn't always come hand in hand with feeling safe. And there was only one person to blame for that: Alastor.

If he had been overprotective as a human, as a demon he was much worse. He didn't give a fuck about subtlety anymore. He knew the kind of people that were out there; in fact, he was one of them! Time had proved over and over again you wouldn't make it out there without his protection! He just wanted what was best for you and he also casually happened to know what it was! He was that smart, hahahaha!

As a minor, there was little you could do in Hell, you couldn't drink, you couldn't smoke, you couldn't have sex. So that just nuked three of the most popular hobbies there. Not that you cared much, but it just really left you with a feeling that you didn't belong among the guests and staff friend group due to your youth. The emotional age gap was quite something. And there were times where you felt like the tag-along-kid more than a part of the team.

It was really embarrassing to pull yourself up to one of Husk's stools, ask for the strongest he had, and get served some pineapple juice. He may get a few laughs out of your antics, but you just wanted to fit in.

Sometimes you played with Nifty, since she seemed to be the closest to you in age. Unfortunately, Nifty didn't seem to know any game that didn't involve cleaning or roach mutilation. (how was she even able to find a murderous point of view to Parchis???)

Charlie and Vaggie were too busy managing the hotel and attracting new customers, but you got a feeling they still wouldn't manage to fill that void you seemed to have.

Angel was like the big brother you wished you had had back when you were alive. He loved to gossip with you and Cherri; even when you didn't understand half of what they were saying, it felt nice having some kind of normal teenage stuff around. He also liked to nudge you towards some potential boyfriends, saying that you were in 'in the age' *wink* *wink*. Your dad did not appreciate that.

Alastor wouldn't consider himself a boyfriend blocking dad, Heaven's, no! Just a humble boyfriend murdering dad. So whatever idea of dating or just hanging out with other people your age was out of the question. As soon as you started talking to someone that was in the same age range as you, his shadowy form started to appear behind you and his eyes changed into dials, that was enough for anyone to start running in the opposite direction (he had scared away so many pontential guests it was unreal)

You couldn't even own a phone. Your dad insisted that 'his hotel, his rules'. Any technology that surpassed the 50s was out of the question. (they still didn't have a working phone). If he caught you with one in your hands, specially a VOXTECH phone, even if it was not yours, the battery suddenly started to heat to unbearable levels and you just had to drop it before it exploded in green flames.

Where was the fun loving dad you grew up with? The one that at least had the decency to be a bit more discreet? 'Dead at the prospect of raising a teenage girl!' He liked to say with a laugh.

You talked to Rosie about it, hoping she would talk some sense into him, and he had the nerve to act all innocent and oblivious! Like you were the one being unreasonable!

Somehow, this safe haven had started to become like a prison. You found yourself feeling suffocated and alienated from the others. When you were out there on your own you had lived in fear and trauma, which you hated with all what remained of your heart; but now that you were in a relatively safe place, you felt isolated and trapped. There was no common ground. You needed to breath, to live (or unlive), to enjoy life! You were not a little girl anymore! (҉Y҉e҉s҉ ҉y҉o҉u҉ ҉w҉e҉r҉e҉!҉)҉

So, one day, while helping Nifty clean and hiding from the Radio Demon That Sees It All, you casually stumbled into something very interesting at Lucifer's workshop. It looked like an ancient book, unlike those at the library which you had read and reread over and over again (One could read one too many times Mr. Waddles Goes to Church before it started to get old).

Something in that book drew you towards it, you knew you shouldn't look. It was probably full of ancient demonic knowledge, but maybe a teensy weensy peek wouldn't hurt, right?

Your face lighted up when you opened the book, (and not only because the light was coming from it). There were no words to describe what you found inside. You could see everything inside of it, it was like it was filled with everyone's dreams and hopes, you wondered how something as beautiful as that had ended up in Hell.

Without thinking, you touched the pages which felt warm to the touch. In response to your delicate caress, the pages started shining even brighter. You were so mesmerized by it that you didn't notice how the room was starting to fill with small orbs of light that started moving around you at impossible speeds, like a tornado.

Crafting materials, toy ducks and gizmos were sent around the room due to the force of the movement. But you didn't pay them any attention. There was something truly magical about the orbs' dance. It was enrapturing.

The door shot wide open, revealing Lucifer, Charlie and Vaggie with an horrified look in their faces. They were shouting something at you, but you could barely hear them, too lost in the orbs and their hypnotic dance. So distracted that you didn't feel the chilling presence that joined them until he spoke.

"Y/N, my dear? ." You felt a shiver run down your spine and your heart filled with the fear of a child who knows they have been caught doing something they shouldn't. You could perfectly hear his radio filtered voice, clear as a day, quiet as the calm before the storm. "Step away from that book, cherie. You could get hurt, and we don't want that, do we? ." He spoke with the kind of condescending tone one would use with a little kid.

A new sudden emotion emerged within you, something you had never felt before and never had any need for it. Anger. Who was he to stop you? Why did he always treat you like you were one of his puppets? Like you were another toy he could dress up and command as he pleased? Why couldn't he let you live?.

Feeling braver, probably due to the book's influence, you looked at his red eyes defiantly, once again touching the pages. Despite his permanent smile, you could tell he was getting angrier by the second.

"Y҉/҉N҉" His body was morphing, growing, eyes already changing to those red radio dials that gave you the chills. "I҉ ҉F҉O҉R҉B҉I҉D҉ ҉Y҉O҉U҉-҉"

"No!" You found yourself surprised at your own voice."I lost my life for you, I got sent here because I tried to protect you, I wasted my life because of you!" That last part came a bit more demonic sounding than intended. "Now. I WANT TO LIVE."

And with that, you were enveloped in a bright light and dissapeared.

For a couple of seconds, nobody dared to make a move. After what felt like hours, reality seemed to kick in and everyone sprung into action; Lucifer desperately searching through the pages of a suddenly very uncooperative book, just in case you had been sucked in, Vaggie was already establishing a perimeter around the hotel and search parties, and Charlie, poor sweet Charlie was franctically looking through every single room on that floor.

The only one who hadn't moved yet was Alastor. Already shrunk back to normal size, he seemed completely relaxed and chill in what could be considered an extremely catastrophic situation to any parent.

"Ah, must be those teenage hormones kicking in." His voice sounded as cheery and joyful as always. Almost like he didn't care. Lucifer shot him a venomous look, silently urging him to show a little care for his MISSING DAUGHTER. But Alastor had already retreated back into the shadows and returned to his radio tower.

If only they knew.

The truth was that Alastor cared. Way too much. He sunk his claws into the table while he fought against the deeply buried instinct in him to let himself loose and destroy everything in his path. The chains in his neck, glowed menacingly, a bitter reminder that he wasn't at full power.

He had lost you. Again.

He had you there, close enough to reach and you had vanished before he was able to do something. You had run away.

The mere thought made his hands shake with anger, antlers already growing twice their normal size. How could you? After everything he did for your sake, for your safety, y҉o҉u҉ ҉d҉i҉s҉o҉b҉e҉y҉ ҉h҉i҉m҉??? His smile looked more like a grimace and his eyes were pools of red hot rage. Oh, you were so grounded when he got you back.

Now you were out there, who knows where. All on your own. Defenseless, at the mercy of his many enemies without anyone, HIM, to protect you.

He sent his shadows into the city, he would leave no stone unturned no crackden untouched until he found you. He didn't care who he had to kill, maul or destroy. You would be coming back with him. Only HE could keep you safe, whetever you wanted it or not.

His desperation only grew when his shadows came back empty handed, the crazed look in his eyes combined with the slasher smile only made him look like the deranged psychopath he actually was.

You weren't in the Pride ring. He was even starting to doubt you were in Hell at all. What was the last thing you had said?

His non beating heart gave a painful twist when your parting words echoed in his mind. The bitterness and resentment in your voice hurt his tainted soul in ways no other person could have. His claws dug even deeper in the wood.

No.

All he wanted was to keep you safe back at the hotel, to ensure no one in this hellish landscape ever laid a finger in your delicate skin. He was just being a good father. You may not understand it, and probably never would. That's irrelevant.

He had found you again after nearly ninety years since that fatidic night when he lost it all, he was not going to allow anybody to take you away from him.

A theory started forming in his twisted mind. You had said that you wanted to live. Alastor was no fool, he knew what the Grimoire could do, in fact he had been dying to take a peek himself. Whatever you had wished, would have probably come true. His grin turned sour.

You had gone where he couldn't follow.

The mortal plane.

Who knew the kind of horrors you were facing up there? The kind of fools that would dare to disrespect the child of one of Hell's most powerful overlords?

He couldn't go there, at least not physically. If he could synchronize his radio frequency with the ones on Earth, he may be able to locate you before some fuckwad up there decided to have their way with you.

"We're on air"

[whimsiwitchy]

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter three: you make me nervous

Pedro Pascal x F!reader 

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing,  use of the word fat, warnings may change as the story progresses. 

authors note: Hi everyone. I just posted chapter two a few hours ago but my mind was buzzing with ideas lol. This chapter has a lot of awkward energy so I apologize in advance. Enjoy <3

chapter summary: y/n attends the table read for Risky Disco and gets to know Pedro. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

The week leading up to the table read seemed to drag on. Even though you kept yourself busy, it was like every time you looked at a clock, it ticked slower and slower. You were somewhat grateful for the delay as it gave you more time to prepare yourself for your first day working on Risky Disco. Not only did it delay your first day of work, it also delayed having to see Pedro again. You felt so silly. One ten minute interaction was invading your entire nervous system. To prepare yourself to see him again, you started watching interviews and clips of him acting. You wanted to know what his personality was like so you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself when you two are bound to cross paths fairly soon. Whenever you weren’t working your server job, you were reading through your script or watching videos on Pedro. You felt kind of weird finding out things about him when he would know nothing about you, but hey that’s the price of fame right? People knowing things about someone without that person knowing anything about them. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was set to start at 9am. So naturally, you were up at 5am to get ready for the day. You took a quick shower and started to decide what to wear. Trying to keep comfort in mind, you scanned your closet for an outfit. Table reads usually include a lot of sitting so you knew you didn’t want to wear anything too tight around your stomach. You hated when you sat and your jeans would dig into your stomach or when your ‘baggy’ jeans tightened around your thigh when it flattened against whatever you were sitting on. You really wanted to look as cute as possible though, for yourself of course, not for anyone else…

You decided to wear a pair of sheer black pantyhose, with black shorts pulled over them, accompanied by a simple black v neck long sleeve shirt. For shoes you wore your trusty pair of classic docs. Once you were dressed, you worked on your hair and makeup, keeping it fairly simple. Looking at the time, it was now 7am. You made a quick breakfast and drank a cup of coffee. After you finished eating, you grabbed a tote bag and filled it with all of your essentials: your script, chapstick, lipstick, perfume, deodorant, and wallet. You then filled up your reusable water bottle, grabbed your keys and made your way out of the door. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was taking place in the same building as the audition, making it a lot easier to find where to go and park. After parking your car, it was 8:30. You decided to go ahead and go inside. When you walked in, you spoke to a receptionist who told you what room to go to. As you neared the room, you realized that you were the first person here and for some reason that was embarrassing for you. Instead of going in, you lingered near the door and tried to look busy on your phone. After five minutes of opening and closing different apps, you heard someone walking down the hallway. You kept your head down and pretended to text someone so you didn’t look like such a loser. 

“Hey, y/n right?” 

Your entire body tensed up, you know that voice. You know that voice a little too well after all of your ‘research’. 

“I’m Pedro, I read lines with you during your audition.” You finally looked up and you almost let out a gasp. He was wearing a pair of light denim jeans, a basic black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. You let your eyes meet his and you saw that he also sported a baseball style cap with a pair of glasses. In conclusion, he looked good. Too fucking good. 

“Oh yeah that’s me. Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you.” You let out the words better than you thought you would. He gives you a smile and raises his hand to offer a handshake. You reach out and latch your hand to his. His hand was soft yet rough at the same time and it engulfed yours in a perfect way. You both let go and stand in silence for a moment. 

“So, just us so far?” he asked as he looked around. “Yea, I guess so. I feel like such a weenie getting here so early.” You cringed at your choice of words but Pedro let out a laugh. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t say you're a weenie.” he said with emphasis on the word ‘weenie’. “You’re professional, early is good.” You gave him a thankful smile. “I had this theater teacher that would hound us for not being on time. She would always say ‘early is on time and- ""-and on time is late.” he finishes the phrase for you and the two of you both let out a small laugh. “You hear that a lot in the acting world. Yet no one seems to follow it.” He says while looked down at his phone to check the time. 

Silence falls over you two and you start fidgeting with your fingers as a distraction. “Hey, why don’t we go ahead and sit down. We can show off our skills of being on time to all of the late weenies.” He smiles and you laugh at his use of weenie again. Pedro opens the door for you and you let out a quick thank you. As you walk in, you see a large table with name tags in front of each chair. You glance around the table, searching for your name. Once you found it, you made your way to your chair and Pedro took a seat right next to you. 

He was so close to you and it was too intense. First he comes in looking like sex on legs, now he’s sitting only a few inches away from you. He smells so good. You wish you could just- “You don’t walk much do you?” he asked as he turned to look at you. You do the same. “Sorry, I don’t want you to think I don’t want to talk to you. I do. I just get weird around new people and don’t really know how to act and I just have horrible people skills in general sometimes. You also kind of make me really nervous.” You shut up and quickly turn to face forward with a blush on your face. “I make you nervous?” He asked. You gave him a quick glance and saw that he had that stupid smirk on his face. You actually can’t believe you just said that out loud. You had never been someone who got the nervous rambles. You usually just give a short answer and keep quiet. You were so humiliated it was unbearable. Luckily, the room began to fill up with other actors and crew members. You felt Pedro shift beside you and your leg started bouncing out of nervous habit. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was surprisingly uneventful. You had been nervous to read lines back and forth with Pedro but somehow your mind locks in when it’s time to act. You could still feel the intensity, especially when it came to the scene that led up to the steamy moment between the main characters. You just ignored the butterflies and kept reading. 

Once it was over, the director gave a little speech and the crew gave us a few notices. Letting everyone know to check their emails frequently for any changes made to the schedule. As soon as they released everyone for the day, you gathered your things and began to make the walk back to your car. Just as you were grabbing your door handle, you heard your name being called. When you looked up Pedro was jogging over to you. “Hi.” He said as he stopped in front of you. “Uhh hi.” You said awkwardly, still embarrassed from earlier. “Would you maybe want to hang out, get to know each other a little bit? We’ll be spending a lot of time together on screen and I would love to get to know you outside of filming and stuff.” All you could do is stand there and look at him. “I’ll try my best not to make you nervous.” He teased as he smiled brightly at you awaiting an answer. “If I agree to this, you have to promise to not make me nervous.” You held your pinky up and he linked his with yours, locking in his promise. You both dropped your hands. “So uh, what do you want to do?” “I honestly didn’t think that far ahead, I was just trying to catch you before you left.” You look down at the ground and think. “I mean you could come to my place. It’s small and there’s not much to do but we can just hang around and talk I guess…” You trail off at the end looking up at him. “Yea that sounds perfect.” There's a pause… “Uh, do you want me to give you my address or something?” “Oh yea here, let me give you my number so you can send it to me.” You pull out your phone and go to create a new contact. You hand your phone to him and he types in his number. When he hands it back, you notice that he set his contact name to ‘Pedro :)’. You smiled a little and opened the message app and sent him your address. “I just sent it. Did you get it?” He grabs his phone out of his pocket. “Yea I got it.” another pause… “Uh okay cool well, I’ll see you there I guess.” “Yea see you there.” He smiles. “Just text me or something when you get there so you don’t get lost in my apartment complex.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

When you got home and hadn’t received a text from Pedro yet, you ran inside and quickly cleaned up as much as you could and sprayed some air freshener. 

‘I’m here :)’

Shit. You checked your appearance in the mirror before running out of the door and down to the parking lot. When you saw him, you started rethinking your entire life that led up to this point. What did you do to deserve having a sexy ass man want to hang out and get to know you?? I mean it’s for work purposes but still, it counts in your head as something more. You saw him get out of his car and make his way over to you. “Hi, um, follow me.” God why did you have to be so weird. “Okie dokie, lead the way.”. Once the two of you reached your apartment, you opened the door and walked inside. “You can take your shoes off if you want, I don’t really care but if you’d be more comfortable you can.” You look at him and he’s smiling at you. “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep rambling.”. You sigh and usher him to follow you to the living room. He takes off his jacket and hat. The sight of his biceps in that tight ass black shirt almost has you drooling. You try to collect yourself as quickly as possible before he notices anything. You take off your doc martens and plop down on the couch. You pat the couch and he sits on the other end. This is so fucking awkward oh my god. 

“Do you want anything to drink or something?”.

“No it’s okay, thank you though.” 

“No problemo.” 

Silence.. 

“Is there anything specific you want to know or um..” You look at him and quickly look away. “Sorry I'm really not good at meeting new people and being myself.” Your leg starts to bounce. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. You told me you had trouble with new people and I sprung this on you.” His eyes move around the room. “You don’t have to be sorry. I promise I want to get to know you too, I just don’t really know how to do that.” 

He thinks for a moment. 

“How about we start with what we already know about each other, then we can ask each other questions based on that? Sound good?” You nod. 

“I can go first. I know your name is y/n. I also know that you’re 35 and that you’re an actress.” You squint your eyebrows together. 35? Where the hell did he get that from? You think for a moment.. Oh fuck. You completely forgot that Angie said you were 35 to get the audition.  

“Oh um yeah. Well I know your name is Pedro, I think you’re 49 but I’m honestly not that sure, and I also know that you’re an actor.” oh yea totally believable that you didn’t know this man's age  by adding an ‘I think’ super smooth…

“How long have you been acting?” 

“Well I moved here like six years ago, almost seven at this point. I did some theater in high school. So however long that is. This is my first big role though.” “That’s surprising.” “What is?” “That this is your first big role.” “Why do you say that?” “Sweetheart, your audition was incredible. You were a natural.” 

Sweetheart 

“Oh um thank you. I’d like to think I’m good.” “You are good.” He sets his hand on your thigh and squeezes as he speaks and immediately retracts his hand. You can still feel the warmth of his quick touch and the spot tingles. Your heart is beating at an unhealthy speed. You look down at your thigh and back to his stupid handsome smiling face.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The two of you continued to talk and get to know each other. You spoke about acting, family, interests, hobbies. Once the conversation flowed more, it was easier to let loose and talk to him without stuttering every two seconds. 

Pedro was laughing at something you said when your stomach growled. 

“Oh my god that is so embarrassing.” You hide your face in your hands. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart.” There was that name again. “I should leave soon, I didn’t realize it was so late already.” You really wanted him to stay. “You don’t have to go. I was probably going to order something if you wanted to join me.” You offered hoping he would say yes. “I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll get out of your hair.” “Oh. Okay.”. He stood up and stretched his arms up, making his shirt raise just enough for you to catch a glance at his lower tummy. You quickly looked away and stood up as well. 

He put his hat and jacket back on. “Well I should head out.” “Yea.. yea um I’ll walk you out.” You both started walking towards the door. “I’ll see you soon yea? Next time you better not be all shy again you hear me?” “No promises. You make me nervous, remember?.” He chuckles. You open the door for him. He gives you a quick goodbye and then he's gone. You close the door and make your way back to the couch to sit down. You ordered some food and tried to process everything that happened today. 

As you were eating, you got a text. 

Pedro :) 

I had a lot of fun today, we should do it again. 

You start to text a reply but before you can hit send, another text comes through. 

Pedro :) 

Did I mention that you looked really beautiful today? 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Thank you for reading <3

next chapter

[starlightazriel]

bad boy az 6

warnings: 18+, 16/18 age gap, angst, some smut not with reader (please dont kill me), self loathing, self sabotage, childhood trauma affecting relationships, loneliness, heartbreak, underage drinking, underage drug/alcohol abuse, toxic masculinity, lots of time jumps, kind of a filler chapter

a/n: i know it hurts :') hold my hand

azriel masterlist

wc: 3.9k

Her words swirled in Azriels mind. They were like torture.

He knew he had fucked up, he knew she didnt deserve the way that he was treating her. What had she even done wrong? Just try to love him? He was trying to get the point across that he was unloveable the only way he really knew how. Self destruct. It was easier than letting her in. It was easier than taking that giant risk of abandonment. The risk of letting her get too close, once she did he knew she would realize how much of a worthless shit bag he was.

She was smart, beautiful, she had a future ahead of her. It wasnt his place to distract her. No matter if she was right or not. Anger and hate were the easiest emotions, they came naturally, they didnt make him nervous... They didnt turn his stomach or scare him, they were all he knew. Being a lonely hateful burn out was the easiest solution.

His heart ached. He didnt want her to think he was a monster. He wanted to chase after her, to call her, to apologize and tell her she was right. To tell her that he did feel something every time they were together even if he couldn't make sense of what it was. He knew the closer she got the sooner she realized that dick truly was the only thing he had to offer. So tonight Azriel would do what he did best and push all his feelings down with a night of partying, it was Friday night after all. He opened his thread with Rhys and typed out a quick message to him. what are we doing tonight

It only took a few minutes for Rhys to respond. frat party come over whenever to pre

ahhhhht college pussy just what i need

therapy is what you really need az

pussy is therapy

you're a mess

He didnt have to see him to know Rhys was chuckling and shaking his head at him. Azriel tossed his phone to the side before he started to get ready. He didnt really intend on fucking anyone though, he knew it wouldn't fill the void that was eating at him.

-

Azriel was already drunk when the three of them arrived at the party. That was normal, they never seemed to know where to stop when pregaming before anything. The three of them just had too much damn fun together. Tonight wasnt only about pleasure though, he knew he needed to stop fucking around so much and get the rest of the pills off he had on him tonight. He was already going to owe Rhys for how much he had been dipping into his stash the past couple weeks.

Azriel stood alone by the kitchen, breaking off from Rhys and Cass, he knew he was more approachable when they weren't by his side. He figured the three of them together probably looked kind of scary. He held a drink in his hand, surveying the crowd carefully.

He found himself wondering what y/n was doing, wondering how she was spending the rest of her friday night after he had yet again, hurt her. He knew that if she kept coming around him, kept believing in him, kept loving him as she said she did. She would just keep getting hurt. Azriel didn't know how to change for her, he didn't know how to be right for her... All he knew was that all he had done thus far was introduce her to partying, sex, drinking, and smoking weed... And hurt her. None of those things were positive. She was a smart, shining, beautiful little nerd that he had tainted with his presence. He knew that she was one hundred percent better off without him, and he guessed that was why he subconsciously continued to destroy whatever was going on with them. He really didnt know why he did the things he did, he was just fucked up, he supposed.

He wondered if Maggie had took her out to one of the high school parties to get her mind off of things. His stomach turned at the thought, he imagined James approaching her again without him there. His grip tightened on the cup, it crinkled slightly. He couldn't help himself when he opened his phone, his finger hovering over their conversation. it was the liquor maybe or just the fact that he couldn't bare to think about the things that might happen to her without him by her side to protect her. He guessed maybe, that was one thing he was good for. Keeping her safe. if you're out don't do anything stupid, stay with your friends

"I didn't expect to see anyone from school here," he focuses at the female voice, looking up from his phone, he had been spacing out.

"I belong here," he smirks, sliding his phone into his pocket. He looks down his nose at Stacy Willet. She was in Azriels class, they'd be graduating together. "You're the one who's out of place, how'd you even get an invite?" he adds, looking at her from head to toe, little heels, tight dress, several silver necklaces, bangles, and earrings adorned her silky skin. She was hot, basic compared to y/n but she still looked good.

She had hated Azriel for getting gum stuck in her hair when they were kids on the bus, but something had changed eventually, once she had gone through puberty and decided he was hot. He knew she wanted to fuck him, he had never really given her the time of day though, he liked it better when girls weren't so easy, made him work for it at least a little. Plus, she had snitched on him after all, even if it was just third grade.

"You're so cocky, but I bet you can't even back it up," her lips turned up into a little sneer of a smirk as she met Azriels eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he drops his voice slightly, turning his chin up slightly at her. This was a nice distraction, though he couldn't help but compare every single thing about her to y/n.

She blushes, he can see it but she doesn't change her expression, she just keeps smirking up at him. "Where's your sophomore?" she quirks a brow, Azriel could feel his expression harden, his face twists slightly in annoyance.

"She's not my sophomore," he snaps, looking away from her now as if she was becoming boring. More annoying than boring really.

"Simmer down bad boy, I'm just saying, she's been following you around since the beginning of school like a lost puppy. I mean why settle for that when you could have this?" she asks, her tone is smooth, like honey, and she gestures down to her body. He scoffed quietly, little did she know that she was nothing next to y/n. She was very curvy though, he had to give her that at least, giant tits, fat ass, slim waist.

"You trying to test my gangster?" his lips twitch slightly and he leans in closer, her breath hitches. Girls were too damn easy for him, they always had been, all he had to do was look down at them with that burning hazel gaze under those thick dark lashes he had. She swallowed, regaining her composure. "Watch your mouth," he warns, his jaw flexing slightly.

"Or what?" she challenges, batting her eyelashes at him. "I'm just saying, you can do way better Azzie, some girls even know what they are doing," she smirks, he grits his teeth a little, he wanted to choke her out and tell her not to ever speak about y/n again. Or call him Azzie. No one was allowed to call him that. Maybe y/n, but not Stacy Willet.

"You can show me," the words are coming out before he even thinks them through and before he knows it, she's giggling and pulling him into the bathroom by the collar of his shirt.

She presses him against the door, pressing her lips to his and his hands quickly find her ass, squeezing tightly. "So fat," he grunted quietly into her mouth, earning a small moan from her, he couldn't help but get annoyed at the whiny high pitched noise. "Shut up," he says and presses his large hand against the top of her head, pushing her down to her knees. "Show me what I've been missing then Stace, maybe I'll put it in your hair," he smirked down at her, she gives him a dirty look, recalling the third grade gum incident, he frees himself from his boxers and her eyes widened at the size.

"Okay, so you can back it up," she whispers, swallowing hard before she wraps her lips around Azriels cock. He bites his lip, tan skin flushed as he grips the back of her head and begins fucking her face. Her nails dig into his thighs but he doesn't moan. He was here to get his nut off and that was it, get out some of his frustration, distract himself. He watches as she gags and chokes on his size, tears running down her face, it was annoying but he couldn't stop wondering how y/n would have sucked his cock if he'd given her the chance. She wanted to one day, but hadn't let her, it would have felt too intimate to guide her through that, their eyes locking while he told her everything she needed to do to make him cum. They had fucked often, he had eaten her pussy for an hour before, but it was only ever that... There was no love making, no intimate touches or long eye contact. He didn't do that.

But even fucking this hot girls face couldn't seem to get his mind off of y/n.

"You're not convincing me yet," he smirks down at Stacy, putting his attention back on her, he saw anger flash in her eyes and she pulled off of him, pulling her dress up and she bent herself over the counter. "That's a little better," he chuckles quietly before he smacks her ass. She moans again. "I said be quiet," he repeats before he starts fucking her hard, her hips slam into the counter top. He had to admit, it looked like a porno, her fat ass bouncing perfectly on his cock. It still wasn't enough though, it wasn't her.

"Where have you been?" she moaned again and he pulled out of her, he just couldn't take it anymore, he could barely even stay hard or focus on anything and y/n was haunting his thoughts and Stacy's voice was just so fucking unbelievably annoying.

"I told you to shut up, you ruined it." he pulls his pants back up, she scoffs, her face mortified as she watches him.

"What? So that's it?!" she scrambles to stand, pulling her dress back down to cover herself. "You're not even gonna finish?" her lips part and she looks at him with disappointment.

"You told me you could show me and you didn't show me shit you couldn't even keep your mouth shut," he shrugs before adding, "but you better keep your mouth shut about this," he gestures between the two of them before leaving her dumbfounded in the bathroom alone.

Now to get these damn pills all off before he could get really fucked up.

-

Monday morning came and Azriel was back at school. They had allowed him time off for the passing of his father but he had already been out for a week and it was time to go back before he got too behind. It wasnt like he was grieving anyway, if anything it was a relief that his dad was gone.

His heart nearly leapt from his chest when he saw y/n standing by her locker, bright and early before first period.

"Hey butterfingers," he leans up against the locker beside hers, she nearly jumps, her eyes flickering to his for a brief moment before staring back to her locker. He didn't like that, he didn't like how she looked away so fast, the distant look in her eyes. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he gathered courage. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the other day. I shouldn't have put my hands on you like that, I know it's not an excuse but I've got a lot-"

"It's fine Azriel," she says quietly, her face softening a little as she turns to meet his eyes. She studied him then, and he hated when she did that. He felt so naked and vulnerable when she looked at him like that. He averted his gaze, he couldn't handle the eye contact. Not with knowing what he'd done just a couple nights ago.

"You got anything planned today? I was thinking we could kick it. Just work on homework or something, as friends," he adds the last part only because he noticed a flicker of hope in her eyes. It may have been a little selfish but he just needed to be around her, at least for a little while, he missed her presence so much, he was so damn lonely without her in his life. He knew it had to be only because it was so fresh. By this time next year he wouldn't even remember her, he told himself.

It was her turn to look away, at the word friends, and he didn't miss the way she tugged her books tighter to her chest. He didn't miss the sad look in her eye when she looked back at him and spoke. "Yeah, that would be nice Az," she says softly, and he wonders if it even would be nice for her, if she even meant it, or if she just felt bad for him.

-

"Y/n, I have to tell you something," Maggies voice is what interrupts me as I look up from my book, I was sitting in the library, catching up on some reading during lunch period.

"Not now," I sigh quietly, holding the book in my hands, my eyes still fixed on her.

"No. I need to tell you this," she sits down across from me, I glance over at the school librarian who is shooting daggers at us.

"Fine but be quiet, it's a library," I remind her, whispering.

"Okay," she says, her voice now also a whisper. "Please don't shoot the messenger but Olivia told me that Kayley told her that Stacy Willet fucked Azriel at a college party on friday," my mouth goes dry at her words, my fingers tightening on the book.

"On friday?" I repeat slowly, my heart felt like it was cracking in half in my chest, all over again. I recalled the way Azriel had treated me on friday, recalled the fact that we had sex on friday. And then he had sex with her? I felt numb. Embarrassed and dumb for saying the things I said to him before I had left. Obviously he didn't feel a single thing for me.

"I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you," she whispers back, reaching out to grab my hand.

"No," I say, shaking it off and pulling my hand out of hers. "It's fine, we aren't even together," I shrug it off, burying my face back into my book, I could feel her staring at me. I could cry later, alone in my room. Not here, not at school.

"Okay, well I'll see you later, text me okay?" she stands back up, still looking at me hesitantly, as if she didn't believe I was really okay. I hadn't exactly told her I loved him, but she knew almost everything else, she knew my feelings were strong. I only nodded in response, giving her a forced reassuring smile.

It was true though, we weren't dating. Technically he could do whatever he wanted to. It just hurt. It cut deep. It made me wonder if I truly had been imagining everything between us. I should have known better than to fall for someone like him.

-

"Would you like to explain to me, why in the fuck everyone knows we had sex when I specifically told you not to tell anyone?" Azriel growls at Stacy at the end of the school day, standing by her locker.

"Well, we did," she turns, smirking at Azriel. Clearly she had gotten over her upset from the other night, because she looked at him with that same playful look she had before he had fucked her, well started fucking her. He scoffs quietly and just shakes his head.

"Barely. And this is why I don't bother with whores like you, you just had to run your fat mouth didnt you?" her gaze flickers at the name calling but she shrugs.

"Next I'll tell them you couldn't even stay hard," she bites back, but Azriel only rolls his eyes.

"You think I give a fuck? I couldn't stay hard 'cus you're too fucking annoying," anger and maybe hurt flashes in her eyes at his words but he doesn't give her time to come up with anything else he just turns and walks away. He exits the school before pulling his car to its usual spot that he waited for her.

Azriel waited for y/n, leaning against his car and puffing on a cigarette like usual. He smirked a little when he saw her, but it quickly faded when he noticed that she was walking the other direction toward her house.

-

I was trying to walk fast, I wanted to get home as quickly as I possibly could. My bed was calling for me. I was tired of crying about Azriel. So I had promised myself earlier that today I would have one last final big cry before I forgot about him for good. Im not even half way home when I hear a car pull up next to me and I glance to the side to see Azriel.

His hair is disheveled, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and he raises a brow when my eyes meet his. So infuriatingly beautiful. I huff softly, my warm breath creating fog in the cold air. "What are you doing? We had plans didnt we butterfingers?" he asks, I hadn't stopped walking, so he was matching my pace now, his car slowly rolling forward beside me.

"You can stop pretending, Azriel," I mutter quietly, a bite in my tone, I tried to walk a little faster. It was crazy how quickly things could change, weeks ago I was spending every waking second that I could with him, now I wanted nothing more than to get as far as I possibly could away from him.

"I don't know what that means butterfingers," He says back and I shoot him a glare, not stopping for even a second. "Can you just stop for a minute and explain to me why you're acting like that?" I scoff, finally stopping and he hits the breaks, stopping his car as well. Hes turned toward me, studying me and I stare back at him.

"It means," I begin, my tone angry, almost hateful even, "that you can stop pretending that you want to be my friend, you can stop pretending that I am anything other than an annoying younger girl with a crush, you can stop pretending that you haven't only been fucking me for anything else other than homework help." Surprise flashes in his eyes, like it usually did when I spoke to him like this. "If you want help with homework you can pay me to tutor you," I add, my tone laced with venom, I swear I see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes before he speaks.

"If that's what it takes to spend time with you," his tone is softer now, his eyes too as he looks upon me. I almost fall for it, almost, before anger rips through me.

"You are so fucking unbelievable," I raise my voice at him now, staring into the car at him, my cheeks burned, my heart racing as he stared back at me. I could see right through him now, I couldn't understand how dumb I had been before. How blind. His jaw flexed.

"Where is this even coming from?" he asks, one hand still tightly gripping the steering wheel, his tanned knuckles turning white.

"Maybe it's coming from the fact that you fucked Stacy Willet right after fucking me?" I can't help it, it slips out. The anger the jealousy, the hurt, I knew he could read it all over my face as I watched him wince. "Friends don't do that to friends, Azriel," my voice drops a little as I feel the lump forming in my throat.

-

Azriels gut wrenches at her words, his jaw flexing tightly for what must have been the thousandth time in this conversation. What could he even say to that? He had fucked her, well at least started to. "Its like I made every single fucking moment we shared in my head," she continues, clearly not able to stop herself now that she started, his fingers grip tighter on the steering wheel, and he swallows again, trying to swallow the words that threatened to spill from his lips. "You say these fucking things, these things that make me feel like I actually might mean something to you. But they don't fucking mean anything to you. You just fucking spew shit from your mouth as if to just give me what I want so I leave you alone. Im going fucking crazy!" Her hands fall at her sides in exasperation, tears threatening to spill.

"And you think Im not?!" he can't hold it in anymore as the words begin to spill. "You think Im fucking not going crazy?" her lips part in surprise at the volume of his voice. "It's like ever since I fucking met you I can't fucking stay away from you. I can't get you out of my fucking head no matter what I do," his tone is harsh and biting, his body tense with anger and frustration. "You don't fucking get that Im not fucking good for you y/n. Ive done absolutely nothing except corrupt you since the moment I met you. You deserve so much better than I could ever give you. You are good, you are funny, intelligent, bright... Beautiful." he couldnt stop himself, he knew he was saying too much, making himself too vulnerable. "You don't realize that Im doing you a fucking favor. Someone like me doesn't get to be with someone like you. I fucked that dumb whore because that's what I do, I fuck things up, I hurt people. I didnt do it because I fucking wanted her I did it because Im fucking afraid y/n." she's staring at him, frozen in shock. "I can't fuck you without hurting you but I can't fucking stay away from you either, every fucking thought that crosses my fucking mind is about you. And you think Im not going crazy? You have turned my life absolutely fucking upside down and I don't do this shit, I don't understand this shit, I don't know how to navigate any of this shit. So I am so fucking sorry for wanting to be your friend," his voice starts to fizzle out slightly at his last few words, and his stomach churns with nerves, anxiety biting at him.

She says nothing, she only stares at him, and he had never felt so naked before in his life. He wanted to stay there, to wait and see what she was going to say, but he was afraid of that too.

"Yeah, that's what I fucking thought," is the last thing he utters before peeling off down the street.

-

a/n: thoughts & feelings? just bear with me 7 will have you screaming. this is a filler

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 7

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulatin, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You make yourself leave the bathroom, the smell of maple greeting you as Lloyd sets out the cardboard containers at the end of the bed. There's not much in the room besides the bed and television. He smirks as you elude his gaze.

"So, you a waffle girl–"

You take a container without concern for the contents and catch the plastic-wrapped cutlery as it rolls off the top. You turn your back to him and sit on the side of the bed. He sighs, his soles shifting as he slowly struts around the corner.

You flip open the box, balancing it on your lap as you open the fork and knife. You juggle awkwardly to pour the container of maple syrup over the French toast. He looms over you, a hand in the pocket of his powder blue pants.

"You put some ice on that?" He points to your cheek.

"I'm fine," you insist and cut into the eggy bread, "please, just say whatever little speech you have prepared and go."

He walks in front of you and clears his throat. He tugs on his pants before he sits beside you. You scarf down a mouthful, trying to focus on the food over him.

"You really gonna go back to a jackass who would do that to your pretty face?" He leans back on his arm, his shoulder behind yours. Too close for comfort.

"So you came to gloat?" You scoff.

"I came to repay the favour and let me make it clear, I don't do that shit. Favours, what the fuck ever. But baby, most women would left me stewing in that gin–"

"I should have," you scowl.

"But you didn't," he leans his shoulder into yours, "so the least I can do is offer you a place in your time of need."

"Uh huh, you seem like the generous type," you poke at a piece of crust.

"I brought you breakfast," he intones. You look at him sharply and he snickers, "alright, it doesn't come without some… terms."

"Terms?" You frown.

"Look, I don't do that pining bullshit. Sexual tension makes my balls ache, they fill up like pendulums and I can't walk straight–"

"You're disgusting."

"Sure am," he pulls his arm out from behind you and leans his elbows on his legs, "but I'm not gonna lie to your face then bash it in. I just want a little tit…" he looks you up and down, "for tat."

"Ew."

"Don't think of it too deep. We both got needs, even if you can't see it now but I know for a fact you haven't been fucked the way you should and I can do just that. Plus give you a nice room of your own and a place to get away from that man child you call an ex."

"Ex? We didn't–"

"Ugh, don't make me say all that sappy shit but you… don't… he doesn't… deserve… whatever. You know that old cliche."

"Wow, very moving," you close up the box, your appetite shriveled.

You get up, trying to make space between you and him. You put the box down and brace your hips.

"You got your work and life, I got mine. I'm just looking for some stress relief at the end of the day. It's nothing serious. Fuck, high five, go on our way."

You chew your lip. You don't even want to acknowledge the offer. It's gross and slimy. Just like him.

"And I'll help you get your shit from the dickless fuck before he destroys it. Make sure he doesn't go for round two on your mug."

You huff, blowing out air until your lungs thrum. You shake your head. You can't really be considering this.

You could call the twins and… they live with their parents still. Coworkers… they all have kids and families… your mother lives in a totally different city and you can barely be in the same room for more than an hour before you're ready to bawl.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Right," he pulls out his phone, "I'm looking at listings. Nice bachelor for, hm, 2400 a month. Good deal. Oh if you want a one bedroom that'll be another three hundred…"

"Stop. Stop," you face him, "I get it. Okay. I fucking…" you flinch and touch your cheek as it throbs, "I get it."

"Aw, baby face," he stands and nears you, surprising you as he nears and cradles your chin, "you just wait until I meet this fuckboy."

You look at him, defeated. You can't say it. You can't admit it. You're at a dead end and he's the only way out.

"Nah, you don't gotta say it… yet. But we both know the facts. So, you get your stuff, check out, and we'll do this step by step."

He spins and goes to the bed, scooping up your cell phone. You follow him as he keys into the screen and you try to take it from him. He keeps it out of your grasp and grins triumphantly.

"Alright, so my address is in there," he throws it onto the pillow, "I'll meet you there. Also, key code is on there too. Let yourself in."

"What? Where–"

"I got business, we'll debrief later," he winks at you, "in a manner of speaking."

[worksby-d]

A Great Mentor: Keeper

A One Shot

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Request: “I was thinking about a little blurb of Andy and reader dating for like a year (long enough for them to have said I love you) and they’re just reminiscing together one day and he cheekily asks reader what was the moment she knew he was ‘a keeper’”

Warnings: Age gap, allusion to past abortion, multiple flashbacks that I hope are easy to follow along (I love a good flashback with this couple, SUE ME)

Word count: ~2,100

Series masterlist

The baseball game on the TV is background noise for you as you focus on the textbook in your lap. You’ve told Andy multiple times he could turn the volume up, not knowing how he’s following what’s going on if he can’t hear it. But he claims he’s fine, wanting you to be able to concentrate on studying. 

A lot of the weekends he visits are spent like this – Quiet afternoons in your apartment, Andy keeping you company while you do school work. He doesn’t mind though. Neither of you do, just happy to be spending time together in person. It sure beats the hours-long phone calls you have to settle for throughout the week.

You can feel him staring at you and you know he has something to say when he rests a hand on your legs that are in his lap. But you don’t entertain him. 

“Can I ask you something?” There’s a bit of amusement in his voice. “When did you…” He pauses as if he’s looking for the word he wants to use. “...Know?”

Rolling your eyes, you finally look up at him, laughing a little. “Know what?”

“That you liked me enough to be with me this long.”

“Oh,” you hum, teasing him. “When I knew you were a keeper?”

“I guess, yeah.” He drops his head, hiding his awkward smile from you. “Didn’t know how to say that without sounding like a lovesick teenage boy.”

Closing your textbook, you shrug thinking about it. “I think there were a lot of moments that all added up.” 

He gives you a look, kind of cocky, but intrigued. “Go on.”

“Starting all the way back when I wasn’t supposed to be falling for you.” You shoot him a playful glare. He’ll never understand how impossible he made it to not fall for him. “Like… That time you asked me to come over and I assumed it was for a hookup, but you just wanted someone to talk to.”

˗ˏˋ You would have denied it if you were asked, but you looked forward to his texts asking you to come over. It had only been a couple weeks of… whatever you'd call the arrangement between the two of you, but something about him was intoxicating, addicting, and you quickly grew to look forward to the evenings you could spend with him. 

That day his text came earlier than usual, but you figured he maybe got off of work early. When you got to his house though, you found him in his home office, still with work scattered around him. 

“Hey,” you spoke up softly to get his attention. 

“Hey you,” he grinned, but didn’t look up from his computer. 

He wasn’t giving you much to work with. You cocked your head watching him continue to work on whatever you walked in on. 

“So,” you hummed. “What’s up?”

“Just having the longest day ever,” he scoffed softly. Finally looking up at you, he saw the bemused look on your face. “What?”

“Well, do you need me to….” You were willing to offer anything really, but not say it out loud, hoping he’d fill in the blank for you.

“No, I don’t need you to do anything,” he shook his head, equally confused. “Wait, what did my text say?”

“Uh,” you chuckled. “Come over. Question mark. Same as always.”

You held your fingers up as air quotes as you said it and he mouthed a silent ‘Oh.’

“No, I’ve just had the day from hell and my first thought was just asking you to come over to…” He shrugged, not sure what he was thinking really, but he for once wasn’t alluding to sex is all he knew. 

“So you just want me to….”

“Keep me company… Hang out… Chill...” He kept looking for words and winced at the smirk you were failing to suppress. 

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to sound younger,” you teased, saving him from any more attempts at finding the word someone your age would use. “I got it.”

“I’m really sorry.” He didn’t know why he assumed you’d want to “hang out” with him. “I should have just said that instead of my usual text.”

“No, it’s okay.” You looked around the room and took a few steps back to get comfortable on the sofa across from his desk. “I like just talking to you.”

You weren’t lying. Over those couple weeks, you got to… kind of know him. It was surface level, but enough to find out how funny and kind he was. You were right on the precipice of getting to know each other deeper. You could feel it, no matter how much you tried to reject the thought.

“Right on,” he smiled. 

It felt good to know he enjoyed your presence all the time, not only when you were in his bed. ˎˊ˗

“I was kind of an ass,” he laughs, shaking his head thinking back to it. “Ordering you to come over like that.”

“Hey, I didn’t see it like that.” You nudge him with your knee to get him to look at you. “I would have said ‘no’ if I didn’t want to see you.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow at you. “You never said ‘no’...”

“What’s not clicking?” You giggle. “I always wanted to see you.”

“Whatever.” 

You miss the way he rolls his eyes as you take a careful pause before recalling another moment.

“There was also you not swearing me out of your life after…”

Your voice trails off, but you both know what you’re talking about. You don’t have to say it, you don’t like saying it. 

˗ˏˋ You broke down once you got back to his place after it was over, partly from the pain that was setting in and partly from feeling like you did something wrong. 

Barely making it through the door, he held you as you cried in his entryway.

He told you everything was going to be okay and you couldn’t fathom why he was being so nice, but you sure as hell weren’t going to risk anything by questioning it. 

Once you had no tears left, he insisted on letting you sleep in his bedroom so you’d be comfortable. 

“What about you?” You sniffled as he walked you upstairs. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he chuckled, knowing he was too worried about you to get any sleep anyway. 

While you tried to get comfortable in bed, he was asking what you needed and got everything he could think of – Painkillers, a heating pad, water. 

“Yell for me if you need anything else, okay? Or text me if that’s easier.”

You just nodded and he knew you wanted to be alone. 

“Andy,” you said softly, voice cracking, before he could shut the door behind him as he walked out.

When he turned back to you, his eyes said it again. “Stop apologizing.”

He didn’t say those words so many times over the previous days because he was upset with you or wanted to shut you up, but because he genuinely wanted you to know you had nothing to be apologizing for. 

Neither of you actually said anything, just the look you shared felt like closure at the time. Where you kept expecting to see anger, you continuously saw the look of someone who really cared about you, giving you enough comfort to drift into a light sleep that night. ˎˊ˗

You avoid the sympathetic look that you know he can’t help. You don’t need it. 

“I never would have,” he reminds you. 

Offering a small smile, you do look back to him. “I know that.”

There’s a silence before you take it upon yourself to lighten the mood. 

“Do you remember our first date?” You smirk. “I made you help me pick out my outfit.”

˗ˏˋ He wouldn’t tell you where he was taking you for dinner, so you showed up to his place with multiple outfit options.

And after not seeing each other in person for three months, you needed a way to break the ice anyway.

“Help me pick what to wear?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

You didn’t really give him an option though, finding yourself falling back into being comfortable with him like no time had passed. You gently grabbed his arm and started to walk upstairs, hoping he’d just follow you. 

He shook his head as you laid out different pieces of clothes on his bed. 

“It’s just dinner…” 

He looked amused when you scoffed at him. 

“You’re such a man. There’s different vibes at different restaurants and since you won’t tell me which one we’re going to…”

“Different ‘vibes’?” 

“You’re killing me,” you laughed. He was clueless. “Just pick something.”

He held his hands up in defense, pointing at his pick. He just hoped he got the ‘vibes’ right, whatever that meant.

When you met him back downstairs after getting ready, he was sitting on his laptop at the kitchen counter. 

“Oh, if you’re busy–” 

“No, oh God, no,” he stuttered, feeling bad that’s what you immediately assumed. “I was just trying to pass time with work instead of the nervous pacing I was doing.” 

Hearing him say he was nervous was funny. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

“It’s just me,” you smiled. “No reason to be nervous.”

“That’s every reason to be nervous,” he chuckled before quickly changing the subject. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks…” The butterflies were going crazy in your stomach as he held out his hand for you. You took it, winking at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself Mr. Barber.” ˎˊ˗

There's an amused look on your face as that evening flashes through your mind. “That was definitely one of the moments.”

His face falls in a look of faux offense. “Seeing me nervous?” 

“It was cute,” you tease. “And then I guess our second date was it for me. I think I finally let myself come to terms with the fact I had it bad for you.”

˗ˏˋ Everything was so easy with him.

You didn’t think anything of it as one thing led to another when you got back to his place after dinner. Making out on his couch turned into you straddling his lap as his hands softly roamed your back.

You felt your sweater ride up and the brush of Andy’s fingertips against your skin. 

The accidental contact brought you out of your pleasure-filled haze, goosebumps covering your exposed skin. 

“Wait,” you murmured against his lips, pulling away slightly to catch your breath. “I’m not– I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

You shook your head, resting your forehead against his. You didn’t want to lead him on like you felt you did a few weeks prior. 

“I’m sorry–” He instinctively pulled your sweater back down, noticing where his hand was. “I wasn’t trying to… Wasn’t trying to take it any further than this.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, dropping your face to hide against his shoulder. You felt bad for assuming he was trying to push you to do anything. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he assured.

You carefully moved off of him to sit beside him instead, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Are you hungry?” He wasn’t going to allow an uncomfortable silence. “I still have those cookies that we didn’t make the last time you were here.”

Cracking a smile is the last thing you expected to do in that moment, but he got you to do it. ˎˊ˗

“You changed the subject to making cookies so I wouldn’t dwell on it,” you pout, thinking back to it. 

He’s a little caught off guard finding out that meant so much to you. 

“That was just me respecting whatever emotions you were going through at the time…” 

“I know,” you laugh a little. “But I’m 99 percent sure any guy I was with before you would have tried talking me into feeling ready by then.”

“I never even would have thought to do that.”

“‘Cause you’re a good guy, Andy,” you tell him seriously before taking on a more teasing tone. “And I can’t believe I bagged you.”

He shakes his head. “The bar is on the floor for us guys, huh?” 

“Yeah, it is,” you laugh, finally sitting up so you can kiss his cheek and look in his eyes. “But you exceed the bar, I promise. I’ve only fallen more and more in love with you every day since then.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby @cutedisneygrl

[sassypantsjaxon]

Okay, quick disclaimers: 1. I know some people don't like Horikoshi's worldbuilding, would say there's a lack of depth, etc, etc. I'm not one of those people, I just see it as my chance to overanalyze and fill in the gaps myself for these kind of headcanon/theory/whatever you want to call this post. 2. This post will briefly touch on my own personal headcanons of Mic being an orphan and Aizawa being a rich kid.

Okay! all that being said, I'm just going to throw some things at the wall about my own thoughts/headcanons about the world Mic and Aizawa grew up in, and you guys can let me know if anything sticks.

You ever think about how All Might is around 25 years older than Mic and Aizawa?

Given that he left Japan as a teenager and went to college in America, he probably came back and started becoming the Symbol of Peace in Japan in his early-mid twenties.

Mic and Aizawa would have been part of the first generation of kids who have never known a world without All Might

Like. Think about that. They would have grown up in a world that is just beginning to recover from the horrors (as compared to the relatively deceptively safe society we see at the beginning of the series)

Hizashi grows up in an orphanage with a lot of older kids who were orphaned by villain attacks and...not so many kids younger than him. Which is good for them, but kind of lonely for a kid like Zashi

There's a wall around the orphanage that is supposed to be for protecting them, but as villain activity decreases, it just starts to feel like it's keeping the kids in

Hizashi becomes a hero because he knows nobody else is going to save him

Shouta grows up in a high security gated community

He's always wanted to be a hero, and he's always been told it's pointless, because All Might will have eradicated villainy by the time Shouta's an adult this is of course a lie

part of the tragedy of Oboro's death is that they've heard their whole lives how large scale villain attacks like that are a thing of the past

They would have had drills for what to do in case of villain attacks when they were little kids starting school. These would have slowly been phased out by the time they were in middle school

Another thing that's changed since they were kids is the architecture

No more burned down, bombed out buildings that just sit around because there's no point rebuilding something that will just be destroyed again in a few weeks. No more business that are still open, but the windows are boarded up because they can't afford to keep replacing the glass

No more graffitied walls and fences and gates. No more anti-villain spikes on top of buildings and around cities

And all of these things disappeared so slowly that it's like one day when they're in highschool, they just look around and realize they don't exist anymore and wonder where it all went and when it happened

There was probably a population boom as All Might started to cement his place as the Symbol of Peace. People realizing their kids would have a safer world to grow up in and they didn't have to fear dying every other minute

People moving out of the safety of the cities back into more rural areas

actually hang on. that would kind of explain the racism and bigotry we know exists in the rural regions

this was supposed to be more about mic and aizawa and now i'm just spitballing worldbuilding sorry.

Mic and Aizawa are kind of in this weird inbetween of the fourth generation of quirk users, who grew up fully in the horrors of quirk wars, and the fifth generation, who grew up in the era of All Might and it's all just the past to them

Because even though they didn't exactly live it themselves, they did still see the direct effects of it

And that's the horror of this new war, because their students had been living the peace Mic and Aizawa were promised as children

[quillkiller]

microfic: effiebarty, 1.3k words, mature.

age gap (barty 22, effie 46), cheating, referenced abuse (barty’s father), mild sexual content

Barty huffed out a not-so-surprised laugh when his back hit the couch, looking up at the lust filled brown eyes that, in turn, were looking down at him. Christ, he thought. He was in way over his head. 

Nowhere else he'd rather be, though. 

It had been his fathers idea– to help out at the Potter’s. Maybe befriend Fleamont Potter’s only son, James Potter, the loud arrogant fucker. The most important task at hand, though, was to be at Mr. Potters side. Offer your assistance, his father said. Whatever he wants, and maybe something will become of you. 

Barty had expected Mr. Potter to open the goddamn gates to the pretentious fucking mansion he was living in, but instead he was met with the Missus. It was early in the morning and she had been wearing a mint green silk robe and not much else. Hair a little messy and unkempt, unimpressed look on her face. Twenty years Barty’s senior, at the very least. 

“Fuck me,” Barty had exhaled, inelegant and inappropriate. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but in his defense his father always did say he couldn’t beat him into a proper young man.

Certainly didn’t stop him from trying though. 

Mrs. Potter raised one single eyebrow, raised her coffee cup to her lips and watched him as his eyes followed the motion, and then stepped aside to let him in. She laughed, a quiet mischievous little thing, when his breath caught in his throat. 

“Fuck me,” he repeated through a breathy laugh. 

“Unlikely.” an amused Mrs. Potter said. 

Barty did whatever Mr. Potter told him to, which were all bullshit jobs that certainly wouldn’t help the bloody career he didn’t even care about in the first place. He brought him coffees, cleaned their giant fucking pool, ran errands– and on some, very rare, occasions he was to follow James around. Take notes, Mr. Potter said. 

Barty had punched people for a lot fucking less. 

It could’ve been worse, though. His anger simmered away immediately when he entered the kitchen to find Mrs. Potter already there, standing by the kitchen island. She’d pour him a cup of coffee and ask him how he takes it. She was a bloody goddess, too good for this house, in the early morning sun peeking through the large kitchen windows. 

Barty would say something stupid like: your husband is waiting for me. 

Mrs. Potter would grin and say: you’d rather drink your coffee with him? 

Fuck no, he’d laugh. He figured he could steal five minutes of the day, just to share them with the Missus of the house. Mr. Potter wouldn’t miss him, certainly. Maybe Barty would even survive this bullshit not-even-a-job without breaking something if Mrs. Potter would continue to indulge him. If she’d let his greedy eyes watch her. He felt like a stain in her presence, afraid to get too close and infect her with his filth. 

She stepped closer, entering his personal space, and raised the cup of coffee for him to grab. Their fingers brushed when he took it. She hadn’t flinched at the touch. Hadn’t wrinkled her nose in disgust. She let her fingers linger, just a little, before removing them. 

Good boy, she’d said. 

Barty nearly dropped the coffee cup on the floor.

Since then, she would always wait for him in the kitchen when he came down. Or at least he’d like to think she was waiting. For him. And when he was cleaning their pool, she’d come out and offer him a cold drink. Sometimes she’d stay, lower herself onto one of the tanning chairs with a book. Sneak a glance or two, and maybe, just maybe, Barty would throw his shirt off. Claiming it’s too bloody hot out. Maybe Mrs. Potter’s glances would increase after that.

Yeah, it could’ve been worse. 

“Why are you here, anyway?” Mrs. Potter asked one afternoon, outstretched on her tanning chair in a white silk robe and another book in her hands. She liked books. Maybe Barty would bring her one of his own someday. 

“Why are you?” Barty challenged, and fished a cigarette from out of his back pocket. He raised his eyebrows towards the older woman, as if to ask do you mind? 

Mrs Potter shrugged, “My husband wouldn’t like it if he knew,” 

Barty didn’t know which question she was answering, but he lit up the cigarette and brought it to his lips. Mrs Potter watched him do it. “And you?” he asked. 

Mrs. Potter laughed, a bright thing Barty wanted to hear more of. He felt the burning heat of jealousy bubbling up in his chest at the thought that Mr. Potter got to hear it. Probably a lot, even. Maybe from their shared marital bed, where he touched her in ways he didn’t fucking deserve.

“You’re cocky, you know that?” 

“I’ve been accused of worse things.” 

“I’m sure you can be a good boy,” Mrs Potter teased, “when you want to be,” 

Barty fought the urge to drop to his knees and crawl over to her on all fours. He wasn’t completely sure he wasn’t salivating, like a dog with a bone just out of reach. He wondered if Mrs. Potter was doing it on purpose, dangling it infront of him like this. It certainly didn’t stop his imagination from running wild. 

They held each other's gaze, tension heavy in the air. Barty knew he was blushing, but he didn’t look away. His knees would buckle, though, any second now, he was sure of it. The thought only made him blush further. He wouldn’t mind falling to his knees in front of Mrs. Potter. Wouldn’t mind submitting to her every whim, really, if that’s what she wanted 

Mrs. Potter bit her lip and lowered her gaze just slightly. She put her book down on the ground, ever so slowly— and allowed her legs to part, her silk robe loosening sinfully as her legs continued to spread. 

The cigarette fell from Barty’s lips, long since forgotten. He was about to say something, to maybe possibly object. Remind her of her bore of a useless husband, before he realised he absolutely didn’t care. Couldn’t care less, really, as his gaze lowered and watched as Mrs. Potter’s fingers reached the hem of her swim wear. 

“Mrs–” 

“Effie,” she interrupted. 

Heat pooled in his chest, his belly— his entire body. He swallowed tightly as her fingers dipped even lower. Someone would kill him for this, he thought. If they ever found out. 

He bit his own lip until he could taste the metallic tang of blood. Mrs Potter - Effie, he corrected - moaned as her hand disappeared between her legs, not looking away from him once.  

His knees buckled. 

“Watch,” Effie commanded, “no touching,” 

He’d die a lucky fucking man, though. He’d let Effie herself kill him, gladly, if that’s what she wanted. Whatever she fucking wanted. He’d lay his head down on her knee, like someone would lay their head on the execution block, and he’d look up at her so fucking sweetly. 

That’s how he had ended up here, with his back against the couch– in a pool house with a married woman. Not knowing or caring where her husband was. His fathers words echoed in his mind, demanding Barty do whatever Mr. Potter asked of him. Offer your assistance, his father had said. 

Effie straddled him, hand around his throat and robe falling off her shoulders. Sure, Mr. Potter hadn’t asked him to do this, but if that idiot couldn’t keep his wife satisfied then someone would have to do it for him. A woman like Effie should always be satisfied. Should have whatever she fucking wanted, whenever she wanted it. He was simply offering his assistance. 

Effie closed her hands around his wrists, keeping them above his head. “Will you keep them there?” she whispered, gently rolling her hips. “for me?” 

Way, way over his fucking head. 

“Anything,” he stuttered. 

“Good boy.” 

[c0mbatchameleon]

hi anna my love would you mind telling us what the possession au is about 🥺🤲🏼💗

LUNEEE ABSOLUTELY ABSOFRUITLY I CAN.

Ok so the tldr here is James is a demon that possesses reg. This all came from a drunk 3am note in my phone about the “intimacy of literally inhabiting the same body, to become a singular noun; my thoughts are yours now, you don’t even know where you end and I begin, your soul would feel so empty without me here to fill in all the gaps” etc etc. Right ok. Long ramblings below, be warned.

So picture regulus, our resident high-strung control freak who has lived as a puppet on a string at the whims of his family ever since he was a teenager and they began staging him to join / eventually take over their major capitalist conglomerate empire or whatever. Iffy on the details still but there’s a lot of politics involved. Think like the richest of the rich in the world and they want to keep their family on the top—regulus is their vessel to do so.

And the thing is, he goes above and beyond. He gave up on trying to escape the life he’s been (to him) imprisoned in a long time ago, and his (perceived) lack of control and agency has only driven him to climb higher, hungry for even more disgusting amounts of wealth and power, fuck everyone else, he wants to be at the fucking top, and maybe then he’ll be free. He’s terrible and he’s miserable and he’s everything they wanted him to be, he feels like a slave to time and to the life that was carved out for him, and it manifests in him exerting extreme amounts of control over the one thing he can have some semblance of control over, which is his own body.

(slight tw for disordered / obsessive eating / body habits?)

Picture him scheduling his days down to the minute. He wakes up at 5:30am everyday after getting the exact amount of sleep to complete five rem cycles, he has a strict workout regimen every day perfectly planned out for the week, meals all the same mapped out down to the calorie. You’d think he’s in the army. His skincare routine puts patrick bateman to shame. He jerks off once a week cuz he thinks it has health benefits or keeps him sharp or something (if you’ve watched The End of the Fucking World I’m pretty sure this is where my brain subconsciously picked this from) and it’s mechanical and he’s dead in the eyes and he knows it will take him exactly 5 minutes and 8 seconds to come.

And then. Suddenly. He’s having weird dreams about some man he doesn’t know and they’re making him feel things when he has specifically trained his body to NOT feel things and what’s happening to him? And then dreams become daydreams. And then he’s losing time. HES LOSING TIME. Which is literally his worst nightmare. It’s making him fuckinf spiral, his routines are being thrown off, the small semblance of control is slipping, so he’s already at his wits fucking end when a goddamn voice in his head starts talking to him. Like that’ll do it.

But then the voice, the man, the figure from his dreams, James, is telling him to relax. Telling him you’re so wound up. I can feel it, you know? How tired you are. It’s okay baby, let me take the reins for the day. You just have to sit back up in that head of yours—of ours—and let it all turn to static for a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll give you your body back tonight. Don’t you trust me? Wouldn’t it feel good to just.. let go for a bit?

And eventually regulus discovers that it DOES feel good. He fucking loves it. He gives up control willingly for the first time, he lets James do it all for him, to move him around like a puppet in the most literal sense but it’s different from his family, from everyone else. It’s freeing.

and it’s like this weird corruption-anticorruption thing because yes james is influencing him and planting thoughts in his head and literally taking over his body at points but it’s all to make him do…kinda good things? “Fuck the company, don’t show up today, let’s go to the coast like you used to as a kid,” “don’t pick up the phone, I know you’ve never declined your mother’s call before, but just try. Don’t you feel powerful?” Until eventually reg is sabotaging the company, his family, he’s basically suicide-bombing the stock market, he’s giving all his money away, etc etc. he’s more free than he’s ever felt in his life and to the outside world he looks absolutely insane and, shit, maybe he is, but it feels fucking amazing.

I just love the thought of James’ more mundane influence on him too. He’s craving hot Cheetos for the first time in his life and absolutely appalled and confused and James is like “shit my bad I was thinking abt them.” James has him smoke weed for the first time (the scene I have planned for this……) and he has to take over to roll the joint for him. Why the fuck is reg enjoying abba music? But also—why the fuck is a demon enjoying abba music?

I’ve rambled way too much so I’ll reign it in there. Lots of details subject to change, but this is basically all I’m thinking abt these days.