#as someone who actually reads sheet music he right.

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don���t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[featherandferns]

daylight - nine

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 9 of the daylight series | read part 8 here

content warnings: mentions of sex; mentions of alcohol

word count: 3.9k.

blurb: restless after the argument with JJ, you resort to looking through the journal you kept when you were dating Tyler. Maybe it's time to try and let the past go.

You can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, you hear the argument between you and JJ echo in your mind. The horrible things you said to one another. The perfect avoidance of the truth, as if the two of you were reciting steps in a dance. The thought that everything between you might be ruined keeps you from finding rest.

Mimsy still hasn’t returned any of your calls. Never before have you felt the distance between the two of you to be so gaping. Vancouver feels like asylum that you can’t seek: it feels as unattainable as visiting heaven. You just want to be home, in your old bedroom, in your old bed, surrounded by your old friends. You want to go back to a time before JJ and before Kildare and, more importantly, before Tyler.

Tired of staring at the ceiling, you shove your sheets off and climb out of bed. Stretching, your eyes gravitate to your pin-board. JJ seems to shine brighter than everyone else, it's as if he's backlit. You're momentarily distracted by his radiant smile. By those eyes that could bring you to your knees; the very eyes that captured you before he’d even spoken a word your way. And now, when you see his face, all you can think of is that last conversation. You look away and, like a moth drawn to a flame, or a pirate guided by a siren’s call, your eyes latch on to the shoebox under your bed. 

Something inside of you has you sinking to your knees before it. You guide it out, holding the cardboard like it’s the fragile casing of a bomb. Sitting cross legged on your bedroom floor, you take the lid of the box and lift out the journal. A finger dusts over its worn cover and a solemn smile tries but fails to make its way onto your face. Your fingers crack the pages open. And then, you start to read. 

June 3

Me and Mimsy went to a kegger today. It was pretty boring and not many people were there. We mostly hung out with Kelly and Evan. I played some beer pong - I swear I’m getting better. I ended up talking to this guy called Tyler. He goes to the boys only school in the neighbourhood. He likes country music, which is icky as hell, and he’s a little lanky. I don’t think he likes me very much. We talked for a bit but he didn’t say much, and I felt like I was chewing his ear off, so I went back to Mimsy and decided to quit bothering him. He’s cute though, so it’s a shame. There’s this tenderness in his eyes. I don’t know, I guess I felt sorry when I looked in them. I feel like if he gets coaxed out and given the right space, he might be able to really open up. But if you don’t like someone, I guess you won’t jump at the chance, right? I probably won’t see him again anyway. We don’t really run in the same circles. 

June 17

Mimsy has the flu and I’m scared I’m going to catch it too. I have a photography gig in two days at the hockey club in town and I don’t want to miss it. I think it’ll be really good for the gram and maybe get me some more work opportunities. My post the other week got three thousand likes. How crazy is that? I think I need to get better at editing. That’s usually what sets people’s photography apart. 

June 19

So, the photography thing was today and it was a success! The team were really nice and the coach said he has this sister who’s throwing an anniversary get-together thing in a week or so. He asked if he could pass on my information. I finally feel like this might be something I can actually do, for money and for the long term. Mimsy’s feeling a bit better. I don’t think I’ve caught her bug so that’s a win. Tomorrow I’ll take her some soup and stuff. Oh! And that Tyler guy was at the hockey club too. Apparently he coaches the girls-only team. He was more chatty this time. The guys in the locker rooms had beers and they offered me one, so maybe he gets more talkative when he has a drink? Anyway, we talked for a while. He’s kind of dorky but it’s sweet. He’s a Marvel boy. How funny is that? I don’t think I’ve seen more than five Marvel films and this guy lives and breathes them. I ended up telling him how I thought he hated me when we first met and apparently he thought that I hated him! How funny is that!? He said he gets nervous talking to girls he likes, and when I walked away, he thought he’d messed up. It was really endearing. Long story short, I gave him my number. I think we’re going to hang out in a few days or something. 

June 26

Okay, don’t freak out but I think I’m actually really into Tyler? He’s really easy to talk to. I feel like I can say the most private stuff and he actually listens. We keep meeting up at Billy’s Bagels and talking for ages. He told me about this car crash he got into and I told him about the time me and Mimsy tried to go hitch-hiking and she was convinced we got in a serial killer’s car. He also leaves me these little notes on the receipts. Cute little things. But it’s so confusing, because he won’t make a move. Like, we’ll be sitting side by side and he won’t put a hand on my leg or pull me close. And he never tries to hold my hand. Hasn’t kissed me. Barely hugged me. It makes me wonder if I’m reading everything wrong. I’m just so tired of being the person who always makes the first move and I want him to just do something! I want to know if he feels the same way as me. 

June 28

I’m about to lose my fucking mind. I swear to God, I’m this close to being done with this whole thing. One minute, Tyler’s talking to me like crazy and making me laugh, and laughing at my jokes, and the next, he’s acting like he’s never seen me before in his life. I took Mimsy’s advice, the other night, and when we were walking back, I really dragged it out. And I stood there for ages, outside my house, waiting for him to make a move. We’d spent the whole day together. Got food, went surfing. Then he hugs me. He fucking hugs me. I was livid. I was absolutely furious. I just started walking to my house. And then, I have no idea why, I turned around and chased him down and grabbed him and kissed him. Okay, I basically ran away straight after, but I kissed him. So, great, right? Now we’re on the same page, surely? I mean, he kissed me back. Well, me and Mimsy go out the next day (now that she no longer feels like a corpse) and we walk past Tyler and his friend. I smile at him and wave and he walks straight past us. Mimsy - who said I was overthinking everything - was furious. I think she wanted to run across the road and rip his balls of his body in that moment, to be honest. All I could think about was how awful it felt. It was like last night never even happened. Did I assault him? I mean, did I read this whole thing wrong? He said he liked me, that’s why he was scared to talk to me, but then he fucking ignores me after I full-on kiss him!? I'm just so confused and losing my patience. I'm starting to wonder if it's worth all of this.

June 30

Mimsy tried to cheer me up by taking me to a kegger. Shock horror: Tyler was there. He came up to me about an hour in and asked if I wanted to go for a walk, so I said yes. We ended up at that lake near Molly’s house, and we were looking at the stars. I don’t really remember how or why we got there. Then, out of the blue, he apologised. I don’t think I’ve ever had a guy apologise to me before. He said he was an idiot for not kissing me the other day, and that he was just nervous and really wanted to. Then he kissed me, properly, and it was perfect. I’ve never felt that way before. I think he’s redeemed himself. I’m a little scared to tell Mimsy though…

July 19

Sorry I haven’t written in a while. I got busy. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Tyler, honestly. We’ve been getting to know each other better. He introduced me to his friends and his mom, who apparently really liked me. I’ve been subjected to so much fucking country music. He doesn’t really compliment me though and it’s a little bit upsetting, I can't lie. I like hearing that kind of thing. Like we went for dinner the other night and I made a bit of an effort and he didn’t call me pretty once. Maybe I’m overthinking it. He’s more of a physical affection guy, to be honest. But still. It would be nice to hear it every now and then. He can handle his drink really well though. In fact, he drank Mimsy under the table the other day which was quite funny. He gets all touchy feely when he’s drunk, it’s so cute. He told me that he’s never opened up to someone like he has with me before. Told me things that he’s never told anyone else. He told me about his ex-girlfriend and how she was crazy. I feel so bad for him, that he was in that kind of situation. He laughs at all my stupid jokes. He even told me that nobody else has made him laugh so much before. I don’t know, I get all mushy when he says things like that. I feel like I’m bringing him out of his shell. He said his anxiety is a lot better since he met me, so I guess whatever I’m doing, it’s helping. 

July 24

I slept with Tyler hehe. It was so perfect. He was so caring and kept asking if I was okay and stuff, and I brought up the whole compliment thing and he apologised. He’s so good at taking accountability for when he’s done wrong - it’s so refreshing. He told me I have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. I don’t know why that hit me so much. I just think you can tell so much about a person from their eyes. They never age. I'm scared a s fuck though because I really think I might be falling in love with him. Oh no.

August 8

I don’t really have tons to say. Mom and dad got in a big argument yesterday, so there’s that. Mimsy thinks they should just get divorced. It feels weird, thinking about your parents getting divorced. The whole two Christmases and two birthday thing. I don't know, maybe she’s right. They basically hate each other. Dad keeps bringing up North Carolina and how great everything is there. How his life was so much better. Charming, really, when I’ve spent my whole life in Vancouver with him. Really makes you feel special. Tyler’s been kind of busy lately. I keep wanting to go on dates but he just wants to stay in. He told me he doesn’t like PDA. It makes him feel weird. I want to hold his hand but I feel bad. I mean, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Besides, I get to touch him all I want when we’re at home together, so who really cares? 

October 14

Tyler hasn’t called me pretty in over a month. I told him and he apologised. He still hasn’t called me pretty. I miss how it was in the summer. It feels like he’s retreating into himself. I don’t know what’s happening. Why everything is changing? What did I do wrong? I didn't change, did I? 

November 19

I think I was overthinking it all lately. Tyler just invited me to join him and his family at Christmas on Victoria Island. He left me a little note, too, after he stayed at my house. It was really cute. It said, ‘I miss stargazing with you in the summer’. Mimsy says that maybe I need to clarify a few things with him. Set some more boundaries. He always talks about those girls on the hockey team he coaches, and whenever girls come up to him when he’s out with his friends. I like that he trusts me and wants to tell me these things, but also, if I trust him, why does he feel the need to tell me? It feels like he’s dangling it in my face almost. I don’t know, I’m probably thinking about it all wrong. I don’t know if I’ve got a stomach bug. My IBS has been crazy bad lately. It’s so annoying. 

December 6

I don’t think I’m happy with Tyler anymore. It’s like he’s a completely different person. I hardly even recognise him. We don’t really talk anymore like we used to. He says he’s really busy with school and coaching. I'm throwing myself into photography jobs to try and keep myself busy or else I just spiral. I don't want to tell Mimsy because I know what her advice will be. And I'm just not ready to face that yet.  

December 26

I leave for Victoria Island today. I’m meeting Tyler at the ferry station. He asked where I wanted to meet and I left it up to him at first. I mean, the obvious answer is the ferry station. That’s romantic. He can come pick me up. But he said, ‘whatever you prefer’ so I felt like I was putting him out by asking him to meet me at the ferry station. I don’t know. I just don’t even know if he wants me to go anymore. He hasn’t said. He hasn’t even said if he’s excited to see me. It’s an awful feeling, when you feel like someone doesn’t care if you’re there or not. Maybe it’ll be different when I see him in person. It’s been over a week since I last saw him and we haven’t been able to talk on the phone. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just kidding myself. I just think if I’m painfully honest with myself, I don’t want to go to Victoria anymore. 

December 27

I think it's over. 

December 29

I don’t even know what happened. I don’t know how to explain it but I feel like I need to get it all out on paper and just walk away from it forever. I think that’s the only way I can even start to make sense of the last six months. It was awful. I fucking hate him and I’m so fucking confused. Jesus, I have been for the past four months. 

Tyler didn’t hug me or kiss me when I got off the ferry, but I guess because he doesn’t like PDA that’s a given. He didn’t introduce me to any of his extended family and left me to fend for myself in conversations. When we first got to the cabin, he sat on the bed and scrolled on his phone with his back facing me for an hour. A fucking hour. Then he went on Duolingo and checked the fucking hockey scores. And I just sat there for an hour after paying for a ferry ticket. Oh, yeah, cause he didn’t pay for any of my travel. When I said I was hungry and was going to get food, he came with me and got himself something. Again, didn’t pay for me. We got his favourite take out. It’s always things he wants to do. I told him I needed a nap and went to my room, and I called Mimsy who was equally as angry. I mean, why the fuck did he call me out there? I’ve never felt so disrespected, so unwanted, in my life. It’s fucking awful. Tyler texted me to meet him and I told him I wanted to stay in. He asked if I was okay and I told him I was angry, and he came to my room. And he was so fucking calm and collected it made me feel like I was overthinking it. Like I was the one blowing everything out of proportion. I told him about how I felt like I wasn’t wanted and he told me that I was. He just said it was weird seeing me in person again. It had been a fucking week. We went out with his family and I put on a brave face, and the whole time he barely spoke to me. Didn’t look at me, didn’t hold my hand, didn’t take a picture of me or of us. I hated it. When I got back to my room, he came over and laid down on the bed. And I told him I was so confused. He just nodded. And he was back to old Tyler. Chatty, familiar Tyler who makes jokes with me and compliments me. He told me how beautiful I was and how pretty my eyes are and all I could think was how he hadn’t said any of that for two whole months. How for two months I felt like I had no idea what was happening. And it made me weak. I hate myself for it but I let him kiss me. We made out and cuddled and it felt like old times, and I finally felt normal again. And then we fell asleep, woke up, and he was back to how he was the day before. Distant and cold and confusing. I think that was when I decided that maybe it was time to leave. 

When we slept together that night, it felt like he almost knew what was going to happen. All of it felt like a goodbye. I tried to enjoy it and feel close to him but I just felt so far away. Afterwards, he didn’t hold me. He didn’t cuddle me when we slept and the next morning, he barely looked at me. He just went on his phone when all I wanted was to be held. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from him, to feel held by him, and he’s never made me feel like I was. I mean, I feel more love from Mimsy than him. How fucked is that.

He walked me to the ferry station and I was wondering what to do. What to say. Whether to confront him and see if I could start a fight. Jesus, anything would do. And for whatever fucking reason, I went for the hail Mary, I guess you could say. I stood there, like the fucking idiot I am, and I told him I loved him. And you know what he said? Nothing.

He said absolutely nothing. 

Then he just nodded - like the useless asshole he is - and told me, get ready for this one, that his ‘family thought I was really nice’. 

I don’t even remember what I did then. All I can remember is sitting on the ferry and texting Mimsy, asking her to pick me up from the ferry station. 

I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why this happened, or how, or who he was. He apologised the next day. What for, I don’t even know anymore. Maybe all of it? But all I can remember thinking, when I read that text, was how I just knew he didn’t mean it. It was fucking Pavlovian by that point: he would know I was upset and apologise, and I’d forgive him and believe that he might change, and we’d carry on. What's the Taylor Swift lyric? You're an expert at sorry? That's him in a nutshell.

You want to know the real kicker? When I told him that I wanted to break up, he told me he didn’t know we were even together like that. So, I ask you again: who the fuck was he? I don’t think I’m ever gonna know. 

January 1

Happy new year. I think Tyler’s blocked me. 

February 9

Mimsy just heard from Darren P that Tyler has a new girlfriend. I think I’m going to throw up. I can’t do this anymore. I just want to forget about all of it but I keep thinking of all the little things that I ignored. All the signs from the start. How it took him to be drunk to even acknowledge that I existed. How it was always on his terms. What he wanted to do. What he needed from me. I wish I never slept with him. I wish he never touched my body. It makes me feel sick that I let him sleep with me that last night. I just feel so fucking used and dirty. Mimsy says it wasn’t my fault but I can’t shake this guilt for not leaving sooner, because the signs were always there. I mean, I thought he hated me. Why the fuck didn’t I walk away sooner?

I thought he hated me. 

That’s the final entry. 

You sit and stare at the barely filled page and then snap the book closed as if you just read how the world is going to end.

The condensing of the turbulent six months you spent with Tyler in a handful of diary entries fails to capture the mass of anxiety, paranoia and pain. The restless nights that you remedied by sprinting at the gym. The meals you skipped because you felt sick to your stomach. The parties ruined when you ended them in alcohol-provoked tears, sobbing to Mimsy about how things felt ‘off’ with you and Tyler. The humiliation you felt throughout the holidays and the disgust that lingered after your final night together. The shame that haunted you for letting yourself do all of that, feel all of that, lose all of that, to some fucking deadbeat guy. 

Because that was what it all came down to. It came down to the fact that you let yourself sit there and take it. That because you felt pity for him, and saw potential, you stayed and fought and tried. God, you tried so hard to mould him into the man you thought he could be without looking at his credentials. And now, on the other side of the continent, several months past the whole affair, you finally realise what it was. 

You fell in love with the idea of Tyler, not Tyler himself. 

It's like the revelation hits you in the head like a hammer. Resets your thoughts. Grabbing the box of things, you head down the stairs. It feels as though you’re not in control of your body. Unlocking the back door, you head into the yard. Ditch the box so you can set up the bonfire, igniting it with the lighter JJ gave you. 

You’re breathing heavily as you stare at the flames. It’s like you’ve been boxing in a ring. You guess, in a way, you have. But you’re tired of battling with the past. Fighting against the memories only to get knocked down, again and again. Wounding you so badly that you can’t face the fact that maybe someone might actually care about you, just as much as you care about them. That maybe you can trust someone. 

When you burn the first photo, you feel a little insane. You never much believed in any of the mindfulness crap Instagram wellness influencers preached. The writing-regrets-on-a-plate-and-smashing-it-up type things. But as you stand, burning the memories of Tyler - anything that reminds you of him, anything that he gave you, anything that he took - you feel like you’re coming back to yourself, piece by piece. Watching the embers lick up his face, crackling until its nothing but ashes and indistinguishable remnants feels like healing, plain and simple.  

The only thing that’s left now is the diary. You hold it in your hands like it’s a first-edition copy of the first book ever written. It feels like the manuscript, encapsulating the entire torrid affair of you and Tyler. The final artefact of your silently toxic relationship, keeping you tethered to your past trauma. Swallowing, you toss it into the metal canister. When you open them again, you see the flames already laying claim to the pages. 

And finally, for the first time, the story feels as though it isn’t yours anymore.

For the first time in months, you feel free.

read part ten here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200 | @maybankskiss | @lillell467 | please tell me if any tags aren't working - I've never done taglists before!

[izvmimi]

cw: pop star!au. fem!reader with diva & tsun tendencies. sfw but suggestive. possibly may have more parts.

When you finally show up to the studio, having woken up hours past your expected alarm such that you had to skip your yoga and your poolside brunch, your assistant is not happy to see you in the least, and the rest of your camera crew is at least a little bit miffed.

And quite frankly, you don’t give a flying fuck. 

You’re about forty-five minutes late, but the fact of the matter is that the main attraction is you, and only you, and as one of the top international pop stars of the decade, you have gotten a little too comfortable with letting your whims set the tone of things. The hustle and bustle of the set however starts up again the moment you walk in, as your head assistant claps her hands and lets the crew know to set up cameras, makeup and outfitting to get ready to put you in their chair and turn you magical. 

You walk right up to her and give her a cheeky grin. 

“Sorry, I overslept.”

Aya wishes she could throw you out of the nearest window but settles to say slap a script in a sheet of paper into your chest.

“This is the plan for the music video. Read this and don’t piss me off.”

You frown as you take it from her then scan through the crumpled piece quickly. Your newest music video is supposed to be a bit sexier than usual, with a pretty generic storyline - you play a damsel in distress saved by a dashing hero, the trope subverted by the fact that you’re a succubus, far from someone to be saved. You’re excited for it, having played a little bit too close to sweetheart territory for so long, and it’ll be your first time having an actual top Hero as your love interest, unlike your prior models who were more props than anything else.

But there’s one issue.

You crinkle your nose in distaste.

“You got Deku!?”

Aya raises her eyebrow adjusting thick rimmed glasses as she repositions her stance as though she’s preparing for a fight, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Is there a problem?”

You groan dramatically, then rush past her, pretending to be aggravated as you make your way towards the breakfast spread that has remained untouched until you arrived and stuff a dry croissant in your mouth.

“I asked for a hot Hero! Sexy! I ask you to do your goddamn job and you hire a man with green Teletubby energy!”

Somebody beside you scoffs, and as the two of you glance in the worker’s directions, he’s unable to stifle his laughter before he walks off, pushing a cart of cleaning supplies with him. You twist your mouth to the side, hands on hips, then turn your attention back to Aya.

“So you’re telling me Dynamight, Red Riot, and Shoto were unavailable?”

Aya’s lips press into a thin line. Despite being your assistant, she’s still one of your closest confidantes and she bites back just as hard as you can, and as usual, she does so now.

“I said, don’t piss me off, Tinkerbell. I’ll have you know I spent a lot of extra time making sure to-” she stops chewing you out suddenly, her eyes wide, and you blink, then turn. 

Deku is standing right behind you, and you’re 100% certain he heard your exchange. If he’s upset, he doesn’t show it, instead he’s smiling sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. 

“I think Kacchan was a bit busy and uh… Shoto probably wouldn’t have done this anyway, he’s not the type. As for Red Riot… that I’m not really sure...,” he trails off, pensive.

You blink at him rapidly as you crane your neck to look at him.

Pro Hero Deku is a lot taller than he looks on television. His face is still boyish and friendly, the harmless look not necessarily limited to television, but when you take a look at the rest of his countenance, broad shouldered and thick, it’s clear that there’s a reason why he’s topping the charts currently.

Even if his soft look doesn’t particularly scream sex appeal. 

“Sorry you’re stuck with me.” He bows politely, hands pressed against the sides of his jeans. “Let’s work hard together!”

When he rises, he’s looking at you with hopeful anticipation, and the way his eyes practically glow with earnestness actually upsets you.

You open your mouth then close it. The diva persona of yours isn’t without an ounce of empathy, but he’s already getting on your nerves. You look at Aya who gives you the glare she does when she wants you to behave, but you’ve already stomped your foot and stormed away.

Frustrated and unsure why.

“I’ll be at my trailer, call me when we get started.”

—

The problem is that he’s hot, and you hate to be wrong.

The type of hot that makes your head spin when you’re too close, that makes you forget the words you’re supposed to be singing to him, that makes the fans that blow through your wig and flowing clothing not enough to manage the heat that runs through your body.

“Get closer!” the videographer screams behind the camera and you swallow thickly as Izuku moves first, crossing the already minimal distance between the two of you to wrap his arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. It’s supposed to be a romantic, protective pose, and he’s not looking at you but at the camera, but he’s so close, he smells good, his clothes are dramatically torn, ripped in the way you’d expect after a tense battle but artificially so. Your heart thumps as if he were protecting you for real, and you hope he can’t sense it, the disarray that’s running from your center to your fingertips as you try desperately to figure out where to put your hands. 

“___, can you please find a way to make this look more natural?” you’re being barked at by your greatest hater and favorite employee.

Aya, please shut the fuck up, you want to tell her, but Deku hasn’t let you go. 

“Next take.”

Deku finally releases you and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. He’s smiling, the makeup dust and grime and blood barely marring his handsome features, in fact accentuating them.

They didn’t have to make him look this good. You’re going to have a talk with the visual designer, this is getting ridiculous.

“Sorry, was that okay?” He’s still smiling, bashful as if he’s the one who can’t stop looking at you, and imagining how his hands would feel pressed against your chest, when it’s very clearly the reverse. You wonder for a moment how easily he attracts the opposite sex with this sweet boy act, as if the plentiful scars on his broad chest, littered over his arms and likely below the pants hanging low on his waist, creeping past the Adonis belt aren’t evidence that perhaps he’s not so toothless after all.

You want to practically smack him, he frustrates you so damn much.

“Adequate,” you answer. The director tells you to take five and you step away quickly, practically falling off the fake set rubble on your way down.

You can’t even stumble the way you want to, because Hero Deku is fast and is holding onto your arm before you can make your way down.

“You okay?”

Unwittingly, you give him a distressed look, and he lets go quickly, and you storm off.

“I’ll be in my trailer!” you announce again, while the workers grumble that you’re supposed to literally only take five.

Aya is chuckling to herself this time, because she’s clocked you a mile away.

Tinkerbell has a crush.

[lnfours]

bad idea, right? | c.l16

summary -> and i told my friends i was asleep, but i never said where or in whose sheets

wc -> 2k

warnings -> me not knowing french (feel free to correct me pls 🫶🏻), making out, drinking, hooking up with your situationship, secretly pining for one another, fluff towards the end. unedited and shitty writing. for the charles girls who listen to olivia rodrigo <3

masterlist | ask box | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡��°‧₊

if there was one thing lando norris didn’t understand the meaning of, it was subtle.

the music from the living room was booming off the walls, people littered in every open space of the house. red plastic cups were littered on every flat surface, the party lights lighting up everyone’s faces as they laughed, sang and danced.

you were sitting on the couch with the guys who had turned up, a fake smile plastered on your face as they all shared the same stories about one another you had heard 100 times. it wasn’t because you didn’t care, it was because of the lack of presence by a certain someone.

you had thrown on one of your best dresses, secretly hoping that it would catch charles’ attention tonight. however, much to your dismay, he didn’t show. as lando said, he ‘wasn’t feeling well’.

you knew it was a cop out of an excuse to come, but then again you couldn’t really blame him. you two were rocky, and there was no hiding it. everyone knew that the two of you were always back and forth, and at this point even you weren’t really sure what was going on. it was always one step forward and then three steps back, neither one of you wanting to fully jump in head first into something that had such real feelings. a little too real, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

you were pulled away from the conversation as your phone buzzed in your hand, the screen lighting up your face as you read the notification.

instagram:

charles_leclerc replied to your story: you look beautiful, chérie. where are you off to?

you hesitated for a moment before clicking onto the notification, the dms opening as you read his comment underneath the photo you had posted to your story a mere 20 minutes ago. you were posing in the mirror, showing off your dress as you smiled.

did you post it for him specifically to see? maybe, but no one had to know that. your fingers tapped against the keyboard quickly.

lando’s, which seems to be lacking your presence

the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message almost immediately after you had sent it. you swallowed thickly as the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat, taking what felt like years for it to turn into a sentence.

were you counting on me to show?

you bit down on your lower lip, locking your phone as soon as you pressed the ‘send’ button.

perhaps. i don’t wear red often, you know

the sound of your name brought you back down to earth. your head snapped to the man next to you, smiling softly, “hmm?”

“you okay?” lewis asked, concern lining his voice. you nodded back at the driver, waving him off.

“just a little tired, s’all.”

the damn buzz sucked you back in as you read the words appearing on your lockscreen.

if i had known you had worn this for me, i definitely would’ve made an appearance

another buzz.

and please, we both know you look ravishing in red. you should wear it more often, amour. it suits you

you double tapped the second message, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you silently debated sending what you were thinking.

fuck it, it’s fine.

are you actually ‘not feeling well’ or was that just an excuse to be a homebody?

i had plans with this girl named ‘netflix’, but for you i can rearrange

you smiled softly to yourself. why are you giving into this? you’re just going to catch feelings and keep going around and around with him in this stupid game-

pick me up, charles?

don’t have to ask twice. see you in 20

you liked his message, locking your phone as you went back to the ongoing conversation between the boys in front of you. lando was slurring slightly as he was telling the story of how he had first met you to daniel, having mutual friends.

and somehow, charles’ name had gotten brought up.

“so are you and him…?” daniel asked, eyebrows pinched together. you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. play it cool. they can’t know.

“no, i’m not seeing him,” you lied, “sick of going around and around with him in endless circles.”

everyone nodded, a few of them saying ‘good for you’s and ‘rightfully so’s. if only they actually knew where you were going to be the rest of the night.

your phone buzzed in your lap.

parked a few houses down

planning my escape route now

this time, he double tapped your message, a small heart appearing on the bottom corner of it. you took in a breath, softly sighing as you went to stand.

“sorry to leave so early, boys, but i’m starting to get tired.”

you were reciprocated with ‘boo’s and ‘cmon, stay a little longer’s, but you laughed and shook your head.

“sorry, stass is already outside waiting for me.” you hated lying to them, but it was the only way.

stass, your roommate, would kill you if she really knew who was waiting for you outside and where you really were going.

you said your goodbyes, making your way through the sea of people as you headed out the front door. you looked to the right, spotting charles leaning against the hood of the red ferrari sitting underneath the streetlight a few houses down. you made your way over, smiling softly as you watched his eyes shift from your head to your heels. you were standing in front of him now as he looked at you with soft eyes, a smile on his face.

“as i suspected,” he smiled, “that dress is even better in person.”

you smiled back, pointing to the side of your lips, “you’ve got a bit of drool there, char.”

you both snickered as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the passenger side door, “fermez-la.”

he opened the door, letting you climb in before he shut it after making sure your feet were all the way in. you watched as he walked around the front of the car, opening his own door before sliding inside.

he looked over at you, eyes taking in your figure again, “tu es belle,”

you smiled again, your heart pounding as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. you fought back the urge to nuzzle into his palm, his green eyes searching yours. you weren’t sure who leaned in first, but in what felt like a matter of seconds, you were leaning over the console as he kissed you passionately.

your fingers found the back of his neck, carding them through the strands on the back of his head. his had cupped your cheek, and everything about it seemed so right.

you found yourself shifting in your seat, slipping your heels off as you climbed over the console and straddled his lap. his hands gripped at your waist as you wrapped your own around his neck. his pupils were blown, lips puffy from kissing, hair fluffy from you running your fingers through it, and everything about him right now just looked so so good.

you leaned back down and met his lips, his soon traveling to the corner of your mouth, your jaw and eventually your neck. you sighed contently, leaning your head the opposite direction to give him more room. you went to shift your weight to get more comfortable, but you had accidentally grinded down on his hips. he groaned against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his teeth grazed against the skin on your collarbone.

“my place?” he breathed out, leaving wet, open mouth kisses against your skin. his accent was getting thicker with each passing second your hands were on him, a sign that he was on the same page as you.

you nodded, “stass would kill me and you if you walked through the door.”

he chuckled softly, “yeah, i’d like to make it to see 26,”

you laughed softly, climbing back into your own seat and clicking in the seatbelt as he started the car. the rest of the drive was relatively quiet, except for charles’ playlist playing softly through the radio. his right hand found its place on your leg, his thumb moving slowly up and down the skin absentmindedly. you smiled out of the window, sure morally this wasn’t the best idea, but he makes every wrong decision feel so right.

once you arrived at his building and parked the car in the underground structure, the two of you made your way up to his apartment. he fished for the keys out of his pocket, you leaning your head on his shoulder, basking in the smell of his expensive cologne and the smell of his shampoo, the same scent that would linger for days whenever he’d sleep on your pillows. a smell you could never get enough of, the smell of home no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

once the door was opened and he placed his things by the door, the two of you were kicking off your shoes. you squealed as his arms wrapped around you, picking you up off the hardwood floor as he carried you down the hallway.

“charles!” you laughed. you could hear his chuckles as they echoed off the walls, his bedroom door opening as he placed you down softly on his sheets.

“i love it when you say my name,” his smirk sent shivers down your spine, his eyes scanning over your features for maybe the hundredth time tonight, “say it again.”

“charles,” you smiled back, his own smile lighting up his face, dimples making themselves prominent.

“again,” he urged and you laughed, shaking your head.

“no, i’m not saying it again.”

“please,” he pouted, “it sounds so good coming from you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, giving in, because who could say no to him?

“charles,” you said it dramatically this time, “there. happy?”

“je t’aime.” he didn’t mean to say it, it kind of just spilled out of his mouth without a second thought. you blinked at him, waiting for him to mumble a ‘i take it back’ or ‘i wasn’t supposed to say that’, but his green eyes searched yours, a small smile on his lips.

was it worth going around and around in circles with him just to hear him say it? maybe, just a little bit.

okay, maybe a lot.

“char,” you whispered, he shook his head.

“i know you’re not ready, i’m not asking you to say it back right now, i just really needed to get it off my chest.”

the thing was, you loved him, too. you weren’t sure how to say it, but it physically hurt how much you loved him. it was like you were starved of oxygen before you met him, like he was your sun and you were beaming and glowing whenever he was around. you’d follow him anywhere, as long as he was yours.

sure, admitting it out loud was scary, but it was something you had already come to terms with. no one knew you like he did, and no one knew him like you did.

“i love you, too.” your arms linked around his neck as he smiled back down at you, a genuine smile. a smile so warm and bright that it made your heart beat a little bit faster.

“sois à moi,” he mumbled softly, “for real this time. no more 2am texts, no more circles, no more complications or sneaking around, just us. together, like how it should’ve been in the first place.”

“i’ve always been yours, charles.” it was true, wether he knew it or not.

“let me take you out,” he said, “a proper dinner, something you deserve.”

“only if you take me to that restaurant in the city,” you said, “the one with the fancy candles on the table.”

“anywhere you want, chérie,” he said, “as long as you wear this dress again.”

you smiled, “i suppose i can make that work.”

he leaned down and slowly kissed your lips, “so we have a deal?”

you nodded, your nose bumping his, “deal.”

[duexnuts]

silent | inumaki x reader⋆˙⟡

notes: not accurate to actual regency era london, but it is my attempt!

ch 3: perfect | masterlist | next ch.

It is now calling hour.

To your mother, it felt as if gentlemen suitors were coming in and exiting every minute– showering you with gifts and flowers in the process; however, to you, it felt like the minutes were hours.

You were only waiting for one person– the Duke of York, your dear Duke Inumaki. After all, the Duke was the most coveted suitor this season. You weren’t waiting because you loved him, right? If you two were close, it would look good on paper, in the Whistledown. Not because you loved him.

Across from you sat Lord Itadori and Duke Fushiguro, although it seemed like they were paying more attention to each other than you, the one they had called upon.

“Would you care to listen to my pianoforte?” you inquired. “I have been practising since childhood.”

The pink-haired suitor replied, “That would be lovely, Miss Y/N.”

In response, you rose from the white settee and moved to your piano stool. Seating yourself, you took up your sheet music and began to play Beethoven’s “Für Elise.”

The blonde-haired Duke did not visit that day. Instead, you had your mind picked at by Lord Itadori, Duke Fushiguro, and Lord Okkotsu, who had arrived later than the other suitors.

“Do you plan to have children?” “Have you studied any particular subjects or languages?” “Do you read? Who are your favourite authors?”

Question after question came until the end of the calling hour. You replied honestly to each question, and at the end of the day, you could not help but feel worn. Growing up, you had been quite reserved, often spending your days reading or practising the pianoforte rather than conversing with other ladies in the Ton.

Before heading up to your room, your mother came into the drawing room.

“Duke Inumaki did not call on me today,” you said, disappointment evident in your voice.

Your mother sat beside you on the white settee, placing a hand on your thigh before speaking, “That does not change anything, my dear. Perhaps he has other engagements.”

You nodded, “Perhaps.”

“I am surprised the Duke is the one that is on your mind after all the suitors that came today,” your mother giggled, “It seems you do have some interest after all, dear.”

Perhaps you were interested in the Duke.

Meanwhile, at Zen’in House, two girls were graciously waiting for suitors in their drawing room.

“Miss Maki, there is a suitor outside,” called their housekeeper, “A Prince Kamo.”

The girl’s instantly improved, “Please, let him in”

As Noritoshi Kamo entered the room, Mai left. She knew it was not appropriate for her to do so; however, she could not help but feel bitter at seeing her sister’s success when she had no suitors showing up.

In her mind, she could only think about how she was the prettier sister– she worked hard to be the perfect debutant while her sister was out riding horses and roughhousing with the boys in their family. She had always slightly resented her twin sister, but this season seemed to bring out something in her that she had not realized before.

Walking back into the drawing room, she sat down right next to Prince Kamo, quickly telling him that she had skills in needlework and harp.

Maki glared at her sister and whisphered, “He is calling on me, Mai.”

“Do not be selfish, Maki,” Mai retorted. “I am certain he would prefer to speak with someone possessing more… practical skills than yourself.”

Noritoshi, his face showing surprise, addressed both sisters, “There is no need for such competition. However, it is growing rather late. I shall look forward to seeing you both at the next ball.”

The boy, with haste, exited the room.

“How could you?” Maki demanded, her gaze piercing into her twin's eyes before she turned to exit the drawing room.

“You always get everything,” Mai retorted. “You always outshine me. I merely sought a chance for myself.”

Snickering at her sister’s words, Maki left the room and headed out of the estate.

Across from the Zen’in House stood Miss Kugisaki’s residence.

“It is calling hour,” spoke Nobara’s mother, “It is not appropriate for you to be here.”

“Excuse me, I wish to speak to Nobara for a second, if I may,” requested Maki.

Nobara’s mother, clearly displeased, responded, “Be swift. Suitors may arrive at any moment.”

The black-haired girl took a seat on a settee before addressing Nobara. “Have you been waiting all this time as well?”

Nobara’s nod prompted Maki to continue, “It appears that the entire flock of suitors is occupied at the Iori estate.”

“She seems to be the diamond of the season, after all,” replied Nobara, “Were I a suitor, I too would be calling upon her.”

“I suppose I agree,” Maki sighed, then added, “I had a male caller today, but was thwarted by my sister Mai.”

With Nobara now curious as to what happened, the other ranted about the situation that had occurred.

“Perfect,” you whispered to yourself, looking at your reflection through the carriage window.

You were on your way to the second ball of the season, hosted by the Earl Choso and Countess Yuki Tsukumo. Perfect is what you wanted this ball to be– while getting ready, you had made sure to pay attention to every little detail, making sure every jewel was perfectly positioned on your jewellery and that not a single thread was out of place on your gown.

Had you asked your former self, before your debut, whether she cared for such presentation, she would have answered no. Yet now, something had changed your heart. Perhaps, someone.

As you and your mother entered the ball, introduced by one of the Earl’s housekeepers, you could not help but smile while walking down the steps. As the Ton placed their eyes on you, only one person stood out to you– Duke Inumaki; however, your smile instantly faded after you placed your eyes on him.

He was speaking to Miss Kasumi Miwa. Well, rather, she was speaking to him and he was listening, but he was listening intently. He looked genuinely interested in what she had to say.

Your heart dropped as you whispered to your mother, “He is conversing with another, mama.”

“Y/N, do not overreact. It is still early in the season for such sentiments.”

You understood that it was only the second ball; however, you two had shared a dance. It was not as if he had danced with that blue-haired girl that night�� he had danced with you after all.

Yet, you decided to listen to your mother, and rather than wandering over to speak to your dear Duke, you went over to Lord Itadori.

Curtseying, you greeted the pink-haired boy, “Lord Itadori. Good evening, it is always a pleasure to see you.”

While you spoke to Itadori about an assortment of topics, Inumaki could not help but stare at you two. Was his expression of interest in you not clear enough?

Miwa seemed to notice this too, as she remarked to the Duke, “If you hold any interest in Miss Iori Y/N, your Grace, you should be dancing with her at this very moment. Do not allow me to occupy your time.”

The Duke quickly shook his head, as if to say he was still interested in speaking to her.

“I am aware of your interest in her. You have been casting glances her way all evening,” Miwa observed, gesturing toward Miss Iori Y/N. “Go to her, your Grace. I will not be bothered”

After hearing the girl’s words, a smile popped onto the Duke’s face as he nodded. Almost immediately, he began walking over to where you were speaking to Lord Itadori.

Immediately after catching eyes with you, he offered his hand for a dance.

“Of course I shall dance with you, your Grace,” you replied with a smile. “Do excuse us, my Lord.”

This left Yuuji with a look of displeasure as you and the Duke departed, but you paid him no mind. You were now dancing with the one who truly captured your interest, the one you hoped might become your love match.

As you danced in time with Duke Inumaki, it felt as though the world had paused. The music seemed to fade into the background as you gently addressed him, “You did not call upon me yesterday.”

“It is quite alright, though,” you replied softly to yourself. “I understand you are a man of many engagements. However, if it is possible, I would very much like to see you tomorrow.”

The Duke nodded in response, smiling as he twirled you across the ballroom.

Perfect. That is how that night felt.

Dearest Gentle Reader, Her Majesty has yet to bestow the coveted title of Diamond upon any debutante, and it appears that this season may indeed lack a true jewel.

Since our last correspondence, the annual Tsukumo Ball has graced us with its presence.

Regarding the Zen’in sisters, it seems Miss Mai is embroiled in a most unfortunate feud with her twin, a discord that has curbed both of their interactions with prospective suitors. Might it be that dear Naoya is not the sole impediment to their matchmaking?

The Duke of York, meanwhile, seems to have taken a keen interest in Miss Iori Y/N. One might wonder if the first proposal of the season is merely a matter of time.

Additionally, it appears that Miss Kugisaki finds herself in a predicament akin to that of her friend Miss Maki—both ladies are conspicuously lacking in suitors.

Yours truly, Lady Whistledown

Your housekeeper, Hana, had delivered the Whistledown to you that morning. While walking with your mother, you exclaimed, “This Lady Whistledown… she truly knows nothing.”

“She is well aware of your regard for the Duke, my dear,” your mother replied. “Even she can discern your interest.”

“That is not my concern,” you retorted. “Why does she feel compelled to speak ill of the Zen’in sisters and Lady Kugisaki?”

“Pay no mind to that. It seems you already have a certain suitor calling on you. Make haste.”

a/n: i had posted ch 4 on ao3 already but now that im reading it back, it is COMPLETELY different from what i had written in prev chapters so like, im going to have to rewrite that chapter. oh well. at least this chapter is good :3

[jawnscoffee]

hiiii

after AGES, i‘ve finally gotten back into writing *yayyy*

this is a sequel to the oneshot Serenity After the Turmoil by @lisbeth-kk (go read it!!! It‘s such a lovely idea) aaaand yeah :) it would mean the world to me if you checked it out!! (also, hope you like it 🙉)

Serenity After the Turmoil (part 2)

Even though the living room light was dimmed, John had to squint his eyes as he walked towards the door, which revealed what lay behind it with a small gap. Luckily, he'd oiled the door pins a few weeks ago, because it would have been really unfortunate if its loud squeak had interrupted the gentle melody Sherlock was playing.

John carefully opened the door a little further and then stopped. Sherlock was standing in his usual place when he played the violin, with his back turned to him. John had often wondered why he always played in front of the window - if people saw him showing off his double chin, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on any notes. Not that he could read sheet music - he was about as musically gifted as a whining dog. And double chins weren't a bad thing - actually, most people had them. Except Sherlock. He didn't have a double chin, as John knew, even though he couldn't see his face right now. And his musical talents more than surpassed his own. His blue dressing gown swayed gently with the soft movements he made as he played, seemingly absorbed in the music. Until he suddenly stopped moving, put the bow between his teeth (or at least that's what it looked like from behind) and pulled a pencil out of his pocket with his free hand and scribbled something on the sheet of paper on the music stand.

"You don't have to stand so stiffly in the doorway, John."

Of course Sherlock had noticed that John had come. What else.

John cleared his throat, ignoring the warmth slowly rising up the back of his neck.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," he said, taking a few awkward steps into the living room.

Sherlock just shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible before slipping the pen back into his coat pocket and turning round. His dark curls looked a little more messy than normal, indicating that he had been in bed, but his eyes were wide awake.

"Did I wake you?" John asked, guilt creeping up inside him. Maybe he should just get some sleeping pills. Or wait, he was a doctor himself. Maybe he should just prescribe-

"No, I couldn't sleep either," Sherlock replied, shaking his head. "And then I heard you...", he seemed to search for the right word for a moment, "...making noises from your room that didn't sound like you were having a good dream."

John lowered his eyes, unable to stop the heat from rising in his cheeks, but Sherlock didn't seem to mind the obvious reference to sex dreams.

"Since it calmed you down the last time I played the violin, I figured I might as well use a sleepless night to do it again," he continued unaffected, shrugging again.

John had now raised his gaze again and didn't know what to say for a moment. So Sherlock had actually heard him and played the violin for him. To calm him down. Wow.

"I, um..." John put a hand on the back of his neck and cleared his throat again. "Thank you," he then said. "What you played was really nice. Did you write that?"

Suddenly it was Sherlock who seemed a little uncomfortable in his own skin, because he lowered his eyes and placed his violin and bow beneath his armchair.

"Yes. In a way," he then said. "It's inspired by…someone."

"Someone?" John asked in surprise, raising his eyebrows. "Are you going out with someone?"

[baybtron]

10 things i hate about you.

you hate yuji itadori.

well, maybe you don’t him…. actually who were you kidding? if you had a list of reasons why you hated him, you would read it to the whole world.

which you do.

you walk down the hallways of the campus, your earbuds in each ear, music blasting as you try to block out the loud shouts of other students who loudly trout through the hallways.

the obnoxious shouts from other students almost break through the barriers of your headphones…

what a nuisance.

as you begin to turn the corner to reach your next class, you bump into someone.

you stumble back a bit, your earbuds immediately falling from your ears, just as you open your eyes someone immediately grabs your wrist to keep you from falling back any further.

you look up in annoyance, “watch where you’re..” your voice trails off.

“sorry about that,” yuji itadori, he smiles softly. his smile gentle as his gaze, such an easy going smile. he ruffles his light pink messy locks of hair before kneeling down and picking up your fallen earbuds. standing up and handing them to you. “i wasn’t watching where i was going.”

you stare at him for a long moment before realizing he was handing your earbuds back to you. quickly taking them from him, “thank you.” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. “it was my fault. i should’ve been paying attention.” you say before quickly walking the opposite way.

that was reason no. 1 why you hate yuji itadori.

his big dopey smile.

you stood out in the kitchen holding a glass of water in hand as everyone dances in the distance.

you were recently invited to a party, since it was an end of the year party it seemed everyone was there— some people were even surprised you arrived. 

“you made it!” a familiar voice said in the distance. Iori Utahime, one of your closest friends.

“utah!” you say with a smile as you set down your glass of water and walk over towards her, “woah, you look great!” you say with a genuine smile.

“you’re just saying that.” she says with a flattered smile.

“no no! i mean it. really.” you say with a chuckle.

“she’s not lying, utahime! you look great!” a masculine voice from your right says.

you look in that direction.

yuji itadori in his best attire.

“thanks, yuji.” utahime says casually with a slight smile.

yuji then walks closer towards the two, he looks at you with a smile. “you too! lookin’ great.” he says happily.

you don’t say anything at first.

it’s like a frog is caught in your throat. all you can do is stare as it feels like you start losing all balance in your legs. you feel as if you can hear your heart making its way out of your chest, the beats getting louder and louder. you—

“hey?” utahime says suddenly. you turn to look at her quickly, then you look at yuji. “i’m sorry—“ you choke out. “sorry— i have to use the bathroom.” you say quickly.

“hey wait—“ you honestly can’t tell which one of them said that, but you couldn’t even look back. so you just quickly walk away.

reason no. 2 why you hate yuji itadori.

he makes your insides feel all warm and fuzzy.

you lay in bed one late night, scrolling through your phone. your back was against the white cozy sheets, your hair was spread along the pillow below you.

you had a green tea face mask draped over your face as you held your phone above your head. scrolling mindlessly when someone suddenly texted you.

you look at the notification,

“Maybe: Yuji Itadori.”

that was the contact.

you sat up quickly with wide eyes as you read, “hey!” a simple message. yet so nerve wracking. you feel your hands get all clammy as you tap it.

you stare down at the message for a solid minute before beginning to text back.

“hi.” you hit send. you felt your own heart beating so loud it felt as if it were going to burst. you immediately throw your phone across the bed and plummeting your face into the pillow and screaming.

when you hear the buzz of your you immediately sit up, grabbing your phone and opening it.

“got your number from Utahime. wanna get lunch sometime?”

you stare at his message.

your fingers start to hit the keys.

“Sure.” you say.

your cheeks flush. squealing as you roll around in bed.

reason no. 3 why you hate yuji itadori.

he makes you feel like a little girl.

you stand outside of the restaurant, wearing a short dress. but not too short, you were nice flats and even put your hair up neatly. you held a handbag in hand as you stood there with a gentle smile. you waited.

and waited.

…and waited.

you pull out your phone, swiping to see the messages you sent him over two hours ago.

no response.

you just stared into your phone, before turning it off and walking away.

reason no. 4 why you hate yuji itadori.

he stood you up.

that same night, you lay in bed. your dress sprawled out on the ground, shoes thrown along the ground, you in your Pjs.

your hair was pinned up, your makeup was wiped clean off.

what a big waste of time.

but.. why did you feel this way? hugging your pillow as tears pricked your eyes. your lips twitched as you smother your face into the pillow. small sniffles leaving your nose as you curled up.

it’s not like you were dating or anything.

your phone then suddenly buzzed. you slowly removed your face from your pillow, turning the other way before grabbing your phone and yanking it off the charger. putting the screen towards your face as you open the emerging messages from yuji.

things like, “hey, im sorry.” or “i know you’re upset with me.” and—

you just shut off your phone and tossed it across the bed. 

you just sobbed.

“i hate you, yuji itadori.” you say to yourself.

reason no. 5 why you hate yuji itadori.

he makes you cry like a child.

over the next course of those days you decide to avoid him, taking every possible route opposite to his. the whole entire day you’ve been going through opposite directions— different short cuts— anything you can think of.

11pm

you sit at lunch along with utahime, and maki.

“yknow,” maki says as she swallows her food. “that doof has been looking for you all day.” you look at her from your phone, raising a brow. “she means yuji.” says utahime who looks at you raising a brow. your eyes dart back and forth between the both of them. the two start giving you the look

“no. no, no.” you say with a huff.

“you can’t ignore him forever.” says utahime.

“i’ve done so for a w—“

you’re interrupted.

“hey.” a soft voice from behind you says.

you turn around quickly to see yuji, your eyes wide. why now?

“have you been avoiding me?” he says with a worried expression.

you stand up. “No, i haven’t. i was actually just about to go.” you say as you begin to walk away. but the second you do, he grabs your wrist gently as he yanks you towards him. “hey— if this is about lunch.. i didnt mean to stand you up— if you would just read my me—“ you cut him off. “look, i get it. you just aren’t into my like that. and that’s fine.” you say as you pull away, “that’s no—“ he’s interrupted as he begins to speak. “yuji, it’s fine, really.” you say as you give a small smile before walking away.

as you walk away, he follows behind you like a clingy puppy. “c’mon, let’s talk about it.”

“i’m fine.” you say.

but yuji doesn’t give up, he never has. and after a while.. it starts to become a bit annoying.

“look.. that night was my fault.. i really didn’t mean to stand you up— it wasn’t my intentio-“ “yuji itadori!” you shout aloud. turning to face him.

“i said forget it.”

“but—“

“forget it.” you say again.

you then quickly turn around before walking away.

reason no. 6 why you hate yuji itadori.

he’s insufferable.

you stare at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth, your hair was tied up as you spit out the excess water and toothpaste. rinsing your toothbrush off before putting it back in its holder. you then slowly put your retainer in before stretching.

it was no later than 10:07 at night, you’d gotten home from a late night shift not too long ago. you’d brought yourself dinner, and has taken a shower. you sigh in relaxation as you plop down on your couch.

just as you grab the remote you hear something from outside of your apartment. music.

“this late at night?” you grumble as you stand up. letting out a quiet groan as you walk to the door, you unlock the locks before turning the knob and opening it to see the ruckus.

as you pull the door open you jump back a bit— startled by the person in front of you.

yuji— his big dopey smile that makes your heart race. he holds a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. “forgive me!” he says as he bows forward for forgiveness.

you stand there with wide eyes.

your cheeks immediately flush red.

“y— yuji! i already said to f—“ he cuts you off. “i know..” he says with a quiet voice. “but at least.. think about it.” he says. you look at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. “think about it as much as i think about you.”

your eyes suddenly dart to his as he says that.

oh God. it’s happening again. that fuzzy feeling.

you stand there in silence, your heart races, your hands get all clammy.

“…okay.” you finally say. slowly taking the bouquet from his hand, as well as the chocolates.

he smiles. “thank you.”

reason no. 7 why you hate yuji itadori.

he doesn’t stop until you’re happy.

a few weeks later, you find yourself outside of another restaurant. you wore a nice sundress, and baby blue flats. your bag on your shoulder as your hair is neatly styled.

you stand there, nervous. worried about whether or not it’ll just end up like last time. you did get here a bit early, so.. you expected to wait a bit. and you did.

you waited..

..and wa—

“you made it.” a voice says.

yuji.

you turn to meet his eyes, he holds up a hand. waving with a gentle smile. “Yo.” he says.

you smile softly, slowly walking over.

reason no. 8 why you hate yuji itadori.

his presence is enough to make you smile.

it was a long day, and i mean a long day. you had just worked a 5-12 hour shift. talk about pain in the ass. you walked down the empty parking lot, grabbing your car keys before pressing the unlock button and opening the door.

you get into your car, locking the door as you get in. putting the car into gear before putting on your seatbelt, you let it heat up a bit especially since it was a bit cold out. you yawn.

your hair was a mess, apron stained from spilt coffee and condiments.

you sigh, before pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to make your way home.

1:30am

you pull into the driveway of your apartment. turning the car off you sit there for a minute in silence. so relaxed you almost didn’t want to exit the car.

but you did eventually. making your way to your door you pull out your keys, fumbling them around in your hands as you frustratingly pick out your house keys. inserting them into the lock of the door before finally, unlocking. you twist the doorknob, pulling your keys from the door and shutting the door behind you.

it was dark— darker than you’d left it.

as you slowly walk through your apartment trying not to trip on anything unexpected. you notice a small trail of things on the floor— did a raccoon get in?

you follow the trail anxiously— what if someone had broken in? even worse.. a bear.

after a long while of following the trail you find that it lead you to your room. you stare at the face of the door, nervous for the outcome.

you anxiously put your hand on the doorknob, twisting it. slowly pushing it open.. you walk in.

your bedroom, covered in rose petals, fairy lights, balloons, and someone holding up a sign..

yuji itadori.

he smiled softly, holding up a sign.

words “will you be my girlfriend?” written on it.

your eyes go wide, a smile subconsciously makes its way onto your face.

“…so?” yuji says nervously.

“yes, yuji.” you say with tears in your eyes, slowly walking over with a gentle smile.

reason no. 9 why you hate yuji itadori.

because you love him.

“i never knew what my 10th reason would be.” you say softly. “i didn’t think i’d ever find my 10th reason.. until now.”

“yuji itadori, i hate you.” you say. your voice breaking. “i hate you for making me love you the way you do, i hate the way you smile, the way you make me cry, the way you make me feel like a little girl every time you come my way.” you let out a soft gasp. tears streaming down your cheeks.

“i hate the way you thought it was okay to leave me

on this earth alone.”

no. 10

[project-sekai-facts]

project sekai twitter once again fighting over tsukasa having nuance. this week's episode: the bedroom vs the sekai

lmao i actually wrote an analysis of this on my personal blog a couple days ago but i'll do a quick one for here too because I don't wanna link it.

So something I learnt in college last year is that when writing a character, designing their room can really help to give them personality. Like it can tell you about who they are as a person, what their hobbies are, what they like, the situation they live in (<- that one doesn't really apply here all we can learn w Tsukasa is that his family is rich).

The thing is, his room doesn't really tell us a whole lot about him. Compared to every other character, there's way less to learn about him from his room. Imagine looking at this from the perspective of someone who knows absolutely nothing about the game. His room is mostly tidy which suggests he likes to keep things clean, maybe he's a bit of a perfectionist. There's a desk so he's probably a student. There's some books on the floor so maybe he likes to read. He's got that big mirror and he puts his lamp above it like a spotlight, so maybe he's a bit vain and showy. His display cabinet is filled with trophies (only at night but that's probably an art error), so there must be something he's really good at. But there's nothing that tells us what that is.

That's the thing. There’s a limit on how much we can learn from what we’re given. He’s a student, he’s a perfectionist, there’s something he’s really good at and won awards for, and he’s got a bit of an ego on him. But look at this from the perspective of someone who knows nothing about the character again. Would you be surprised to learn that his main interest is theatre? Because aside from the desk lamp spotlight there’s no way to tell (the desk lamp spotlight doesn’t really tell you either). You have to read Dazzling Light to learn that those trophies are for piano, because there’s no way to tell by just looking that he plays piano or has any interest in music.

There’s a lack of anything that interests him. That’s the thing. Even with Mafuyu and Toya, who also have pretty plain rooms, you can learn more about their interests than you can with Tsukasa. Mafuyu has a fish tank and there’s a synth on her bottom shelf. The synth being tucked away might mean she's trying to hide it. Toya has a collection of plushies and a sound system, as well as a piano covered with a sheet. We can infer that he likes to collect stuffed toys and he likes music, although he doesn't want to play piano. But with Tsukasa there's nothing. Well, there's some books, but reading isn't really a huge interest of his. It's the fact that the biggest part of his character is missing from his room that gets people.

However as soon as you go into the SEKAI there's a fucking theatre. The SEKAI mainly reflects his childhood interests but it still does more than his present-day bedroom.

So while yes, his room tells us about who Tsukasa is as a person, it doesn't tell us about anything he likes or is interested in. It's... boring.

The thing is since the game doesn't address it, there's multiple different ways to interpret why his room is like that, and neither of them are wrong or right until it actually is brought up in the game or confirmed by devs. On the one hand, maybe he just likes to keep his room as neat and tidy as possible. Maybe he doesn't want to put any playbooks or costumes or posters or anything because it would create clutter. But on the other hand, we already know that when he was younger he put on an act to be more brave and mature because of the situation with Saki, so maybe that carried over into his room. Neither of these are wrong until proven otherwise.

i lied this wasn't quick it's just a complete longer rewrite of what's on my personal blog

[aceass1n]

Continuation of this

CW: body horror, kinda graphic descriptions of violence, slight psychological horror

(My friend and I came up with this together—she wrote pretty much the whole first half and I did the second half ish)

Do you know how an eye works? Till does—in graphic detail. They did not sedate him when the needle entered his eye. Nor any other time, for that matter. He thinks they liked the screaming.

(Within the eye's black hole is a retina, a hungry creature capturing all the light that enters. There is a pigment there that can be fixed in place, like a flower pressed into a bookmark. Rhodopsin, they call it in his fugue-like, broken memories. Under the right circumstances, the seygein drone on above him, you might be able to cut open the eye, soak it in an alum solution, and save the image forever and ever. Manufactured immortality. It is something they read in the human books—a fascinating, primitive trick.)

Hidden in the foxhole labyrinth of the resistance's base, Till's mind drifts. There is a name he cannot recall, though he reaches for it in dreams, wanders long through darkness.

(A blank slate. A black hole.)

He dreams of laboratories, of a face he sees in pieces, like sheet music scattered across the floor.

(In the most successful experiment, they used a rabbit. It was fixed to face a window for hours and hours until it was the only thing it saw. Then they cut off its head.)

He obsesses over the face, draws it over and over. When he shows Mizi, asks, begs for some answer, any answer—she makes such a terrible expression that Till almost gives up.

But he is so, so close. He dives into dreams, into memories, plunders their depths with singular determination. The steel of an operating table. The harsh leather chafing his wrists. Cold metal on his neck, and white light flooding his eyes.

Everytime, he sees a little more.

Everytime, he stays a little longer.

One night, the metal is gone. Till could not tell you why, but he turned to his left and—there. A black-haired boy. As if fashioned out of the darkness and shadow, Till sees him, face blank, open. Till drinks in the image of him, stares and stares and stares until the segyein rip out his eye and cut it open. They were waiting for him to do this—he knows it instinctively. He was waiting, too. As the dream slips away, soft as a lover in the night, they show it to him, the face carved in his eye.

He wakes up screaming.

A few days later, Mizi asks him at lunch—cautiously, as if afraid her words will break more than the silence alone: "Do you remember—"

He cuts her off. The name rises through his ragged throat, hoarse and ugly and raw.

"Ivan," he says. "How did I—"

Mizi shakes her head. She reassures him, says it's not his fault, says amnesia is a typical effect of trauma. He takes in her words, tries them on for size.

He holds on to them all through the meal, up until someone calls for Mizi and she walks away with a concerned backwards glance.

Then Till runs to the bathroom and throws up, over and over, until he is empty. Hollow. A blank slate.

The pieces come back to him slowly. They stay a little longer each time.

He never manages to get Ivan's eyes quite right, but the rest of him—the rest of him he gets right in bits and pieces, fits and starts. Half remembered smiles and whispers of words.

Thank you, he hears Ivan say, over and over and over. A ghost lingering at his shoulder, an afterimage flickering in his periphery. Thank you thank you thank you—

And one day, he hears: Live.

It doesn't much matter if it's real or imagined, if Ivan actually said it to him at any point. What matters is that it's Ivan's voice, finally clear after so long—it was in his former actions, it was his most ardent wish, broadcasted through everything he ever did. The sun shines so that flowers may bloom, so that the foliage might grow thick and verdant. Who is Till to deny his sun anything, after all this time?

(A hand in his. Red skies at dawn. The click of a collar.)

So Till lives. He lives, and lives, and lives. He learns to fight—properly this time. He learns to shoot, learns to strategize. He becomes the resistance's second best fighter after Hyuna.

Live, Ivan's ghost whispers to him, tender as his touch, warm as the first whisper of sun after a long winter. Live.

The resistance wins. The resistance wins because Till cannot bring himself to do anything but fight in Ivan's memory, to triumph on behalf of the sun that burned itself out in an attempt to free him from his shackles.

He is free now, even if it's a decade or so too late. He should've left with Ivan back then. He should've known the sun wouldn't lead him astray. But he cannot change the past; he cannot undo what he has already done.

What do I do now? he asks Ivan's ghost one day, sitting on a roof in a newly liberated city.

Live, Ivan whispers, one last time. Just live.

Till tilts his face back. Closes his eyes as the rays of the sun—the real one, the the aliens never let their human pets see—wash over him. For the first time in a decade, the space beside him is empty. Bereft of even an afterimage.

"Thank you," Till says into to the wind—to the city, to the blue sky and crisp air, to a boy who stayed too long in a place that didn't deserve even a second of his time for another boy who didn't deserve even an ounce of his devotion. Words long overdue, but ringing true nonetheless.

"Thank you for granting me all of your devotion."

(my friend and I did come up with a prequel kinda thing focused on the rescue and mizi—maybe if this does well I'll post that too)

[americasass81]

Not Your Kinda Love

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Implied Stalking, Threatening Behavior, Non-consensual Sex, Dubious Consent, Implied Smut {m/f, oral f receiving), Implied Use of Sex Toys, Implied DBSM Dynamic, Use of Pet Names. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Synopsis:- It might not have been your kinda love, but perhaps in the end it would be just what both of you needed.

Author’s Note 1:- Written for @caplanbuckybarnes Titles For Caplan Writing Challenge.  Thank you for hosting this fun challenge Caplan.  I really enjoyed creating this piece.

Author’s Note 2:- As usual all images have been found through google search.

Pairing:- dark!Loki Laufeyson X Female Reader

Total word count:- 4,134

Turning over in bed and reaching for the body beside you, you couldn't believe you were here ... again.  What was it about him that kept drawing you back night after night, heartache after heartache?  You knew he was never going to change given who he was.  Hell, he had all but proven as much that first night you had ended up beneath the sheets together.  And yet the more time you spent with him, letting him do the things he did, the more your heart still held out hope.  Still had room for the possibility that if you continued to give enough of yourself, he would hold you the way you now held him as your mind wandered back to when and how this fucked up situation first began.

Exactly three months previously and thank god the party was winding down.  Of course you loved being Tony Stark's personal secretary and knew any number of women that would kill for the job you now held and the opportunities it presented, but damn that man if he didn't take the 'personal' part of your job title far beyond the scope of what you had signed up for.  Calls at all hours of the day and night for stupid little things whenever a thought popped into his head as if he didn't have an array of virtual assistants capable of recording a quick email.  Work AND home things that Pepper insisted were not all your responsibility, which Tony continued to ignore to both her annoyance and yours.  And of course, there was the organizing of all those Stark parties.

Dressed up to the nines for every holiday event along with any other frivolous occasion the master of ceremonies decided was worth celebrating.  And you just had to be in attendance.  After all, not only were you a highly valued member of staff, but as Tony liked to remind you every chance he got, someone as wonderful as you deserved to have men and women falling over themselves to wine and dine you as they tried to prove themselves worthy of claiming your heart and where better to meet such individuals.  As if he'd actually stop pestering you long enough to give these potential suitors the opportunity to even talk to you.

No, picking up your latest drink from the bar now and taking a sip while looking at your watch, you promised yourself once the liquid ran out you were heading home.  Sure some of the women here had seemed interesting and hell having spent quite a bit of time in Stephen Strange's company you could certainly see the appeal where he was concerned.  But something wasn't right.  Maybe all your years working now as Tony's assistant had heightened your sense for trouble but you just couldn't get comfortable.  Then again maybe it was the trouble that followed the Avengers through no fault of their own that had you so on edge or maybe it was the eyes you felt tracking you all night yet never seemed to be there when you tried to zero in on them.

Yes, it was most definitely them you should have paid more attention to.

Raising your glass to your lips again to take another sip and just as you and the liquid kissed, all hell broke loose ... in a manner.  Shutting off the music and taking command of the sound system, Tony Stark’s trusted A.I. F.R.I.D.A.Y. clearly informed all those present that a minor emergency had occurred in the compound that required part of it to be locked down.  This meant of course that everyone, yourself included, was now expected to take up residence in an available room in the accommodation wing since all the main exits had been sealed.

So as you now downed the rest of your drink before heading off to find a bed for the night, you couldn't help but sigh at this inevitable turn of events while simultaneously grumbling at your lack of a family and the easy out that came with it.  After all, those people with kids had it all you now thought as you calmly passed some worried party goers making their way along the corridors or stopping for directions despite the fact that people were only permitted to head in one direction.  No, those lucky sods had shown up, enjoyed a few hours break and then headed back home at a reasonable hour under the guise of having been away from their little ones for far too long.  Hell it was even rumored on many occasions that Tony forked out for the childcare costs of those that attended these little shindigs.  Talk about having your cake, frosting and getting to eat it you thought.

Setting this aggravation aside and finally reaching the accommodation wing, you now let go of these jealous musings long enough however to claim the first open door you came across, stepped inside and closed it behind you before you realized none of it really mattered where you were concerned.  Here or at home, being the first or the last to leave, you worked too hard and too long to ever land a partner willing to slot themselves into your lifestyle and even if you did, Tony would probably still find some stupid reason to have you hanging around.

No, this was the job you ended up doing and there was nothing you could do about it other than quit … and even that hadn’t worked.

Sighing deeply now as you locked the door and began removing your dress and heels, the fabric pooling at your feet made you wish your resolve had been stronger.  So much stronger.  After all, was this not the reward the great Tony Stark had bestowed upon you the last time you had typed up your resignation letter and left it on his desk.  That and of course a fabulous week at a top of the range spa and the promise that he would also scale back his unreasonable demands on your personal time.

Yeah like that had materialized.  Two days back at work and all was as it was before.  He just couldn't manage without you it seemed.

Walking towards the bed now and slipping under the covers feeling totally exhausted, you were just about to close your eyes and leave Tony Stark and the rest of the compound to do whatever it was they were doing when a noise alerted you that sleep was not your destination just yet.  Sitting up in bed mindful now of all that might be going on within this private space, you thought about calling out to F.R.I.D.A.Y. but then thought better of it.  After all, the eyes you thought were on you all night never materialized and for all you knew F.R.I.D.A.Y. was busy elsewhere dealing with whatever problem had landed you and the other guests in your current locations to begin with.

Then again, there was also the real possibility that it was simply the night's drinks playing tricks on your mind.  After all, now that you thought about it, you couldn't accurately remember how many you had actually consumed and thanks to you organizing this blessed event, it had been one long week that saw you burning the candle at both ends and now found you beyond exhausted.

No, listening intently now a bit longer and hearing nothing, you reassured yourself the situation had simply heightened your senses while your imagination flew off to the land of make believe.  You were safe and everything was fine.  Holding onto this thought then, laying down on the bed again and closing your eyes to the world around you, sleep came to embrace you once more before it was cruelly snatched away again however ... you had most definitely heard something this time.  You were sure of it.

Cursing yourself now that you had not worn anything under your dress, but smart enough to know that you couldn't fight off a possible intruder with a massive sheet wrapped around your body, you climbed out of bed and called out for F.R.I.D.A.Y. as loud as you were willing to under the circumstances, but wasn't surprised when no answer was received.  It seemed you were on your own.  Listening out once more now but again hearing nothing, you slowly opened the bedroom door next and looking around the living area was a bit relieved at least to see that you seemed to be alone.

Now you just had to prove it.

Walking quietly over the threshold then from one room into the other you didn't need the missing dress or the altered lock on the main door however to tell you that something wasn't right.  You felt it in the chill surrounding you that had nothing whatsoever to do with your thoroughly naked form.  No, you were most definitely not alone.

Placing one foot carefully now in front of the other while picking up a heavy glass ashtray from the nearest side table you passed, it still surprised you when you made it to the other side of the room without incident.  Reaching up to examine the locking mechanism then and confirming that it was indeed open now, your hand moving down to catch the handle and pull the door open raised a whole different set of questions however as the door held firm.

Placing the ashtray on the nearest surface now and using both hands this time to pull the door with as much strength as you possessed, you finally had to admit defeat and accept that perhaps exhaustion had at last caught up with you and had now reached the level of paranoia however.  For certain facts proved your theory wrong.  The door for example, despite your best efforts, remained closed.  The room, both of them in fact, remained to the naked eye completely devoid of humans except for yourself.  And there was definitely no other sound other than that of your racing heart.  Even if there were other minor inconsistencies.

Okay so your dress no longer occupied a circle of the floor by your shoes, but walking back to the bedroom then, its shimmering fabric resting now across the back of the couch brought your feet to a total and shocking stop.  Had you put it there?  Reaching out to touch it, it didn't align with any memory you had, but then again you were the only one here.  Perhaps your memory was the altered factor in this situation.  It's not like this hadn't happened before where you and copious amounts of alcohol were concerned.  So picking up the dress and this time taking it back to the bedroom with you, you now closed and locked this door too and placed the garment on the only chair in the room before telling yourself this whole experience was all in your head.  Now if only you could convince your eyes of that exact same fact.  For their experience told a totally different story.

Turning now to face the bed, its soft sheets and embracing comfort should have been waiting to welcome you back once more, but it seemed you weren't truly alone after all.  Stretched out before you now, every bit as naked as yourself, Loki, the god of mischief, was unashamedly ogling you like a predatory animal ready to pounce and devour you whole.  And it wasn't a pleasant thought.

But it wasn't your only thought either.

Running back to the door now and finding it every bit as stuck as the main door you had just assured yourself was perfectly fine, you now screamed out for F.R.I.D.A.Y. but quickly realized you were on your own when a chuckle behind you reached your ears and two strong hands rested now upon your trembling shoulders.  You were cut off from the outside world it seemed.

Turning back around to face your captor now, for that's exactly what he was, you knew you stood no chance of fighting him off however and since running was clearly out of the question, it seemed logic, reason and conversation was now your only avenue to head off whatever sick and twisted scheme Thor's diabolical brother had concocted with you at its center.  So removing his hands from your shoulders then and walking towards the foot of the bed, you sat down and let out another deep and exhausted sigh before finally speaking the words that forced you to acknowledge his very real presence.  "Loki, what the hell are you doing in my room naked and why am I unable to leave?"

Moving towards you now but stopping abruptly however when you stared him down with an exasperated expression, he held up his hands in surrender and walked instead towards the chair that now held your dress.  Picking it up then and dumping it on the floor as you had earlier in the night, he then sat down in a manner that left his whole being on display for anyone to witness.  Which explained why your eyes remained laser focused on his face instead.  You wanted answers and you were going to get them.  So, with a calm breath, you asked once more what he was up to and waited for his answer.  One you absolutely did not like.

"Well pet," he started, as his fingers skimmed lazily along his thigh, "we're on lockdown remember.  I needed a bed, you're all alone, so I didn't think you'd mind sharing.  After all, that bed is big enough for two and I promise not to bite,” he finished with a devilish look that told you all you needed to know.

‘Unless you ask me to,’ your mind now heard, though those particular words never actually left his lips.  They didn't need to.  Loki was a trickster after all.  Hell he was THE trickster.  If a bed was all he wanted there had to be a vacant one somewhere in this whole compound and his answer only covered why he was here in your room.  There was still the question of why you couldn't leave, not to mention why his naked form was occupying your bed when the couch in the living room would surely do him just fine.  No, he was definitely up to something and you were determined to find out what that was despite your fear associated with any answer he provided.  So you soldiered on and reminded him again of the second part of your question.  And of course he had an answer for that too.

"Come on pet, we do not know what this emergency is or what terrible beast my dimwitted brother and his band of buffoons may have tempted into this building," he stated now as he rose from his seat and walked towards you before continuing, "no, my conscience could not allow any harm to come to one such as you.  Best to make sure you are utterly protected," he now finished as he stood before you, reached out his hand to take hold of your chin and run his fingers along your cheek as you imagined they had on his thigh just moments ago.

Leaning into his touch now as if he was somehow working his magic on you, you may very well have fallen for his charms if the memory of the party had not suddenly presented itself front and center in your mind however.  The eyes you swore were following you all night but could never find ... "it was you," you suddenly blurted out as you broke free from his hand and now scurried up along the bed putting as much distance as possible between the two of you in the process.  "You were watching me all night.  You planned this?" and though these revelations all came out as a question, you knew.  Even without a word passing his lying lips, the truth could not be denied.

This was all his doing somehow.

Standing before you now as a wicked smirk graced his features, you didn't need his following actions to know that you were screwed.  If you were being honest with yourself, you knew it the minute the main door of the apartment wouldn't open.  You knew it when you found him lying on your bed.  You were what he wanted, but he wasn't about to have his way.  Getting ready to move from the bed and at least attempt to fight him off this time, it seemed he still had the upper hand however as magic tendrils coiled around your arms and held you firmly to the bed frame before he spoke again.

"Now pet before you think about doing something stupid, allow me to paint you a picture so you are fully informed of all that your future actions will entail," and with that a series of images flashed along the wall off to your right in a show of horror that would keep you awake for many nights to come.  Walking from room to room, muttering words you knew you'd never understand over each peaceful party goer he came across, you didn't need his explanation to know their fate now lay in your hands.

But then again Loki wouldn't be Loki if he didn't love to talk, so he stuck the knife in and told you anyway.  Told you that if you should refuse him now or any time here after, one, more or perhaps all of those assembled before you would meet a horrible and untimely death.  Tell his bumbling brother, your boss or anyone remotely associated with the Avengers, law enforcement or earth's governments and again, you knew the consequences.  Try to warn any of these innocent people in any way and it wouldn't end with their lives.  Their families?  Their friends?  Hell tragedies could so easily befall entire neighborhoods these days without anyone ever knowing why.

Best to do as you were told it seemed.  But could you really do that?  Could you really just give in and give this madman what he wanted?

Lingering on this question while gazing once more now as the images wound down to end on one of Shona, a temp you knew that worked for Natasha Romanoff, your blood ran cold and a tear escaped your eyes as the reality of your predicament truly settled in your heart.  He really had left you with no way out.  These people were innocent after all.  They could not be harmed because of you.  And it was because of you you suddenly realized as a totally different image all your own crystallized into being before your very eyes and superseded all of those that Loki had created.

Falling farther into memory's flow now of a night before you had started working for Tony Stark, your life had almost been cut short by a drunk on a motorcycle but for the intervention of a mysterious stranger clad in green and gold armor.  Pulling you out of harm's way and making sure that not a single hair was out of place, he had offered to see you home safely … and how had you shown your appreciation?  You'd walked away and never thought of him again.  You'd never spoken to him, never danced with him whenever your paths crossed at any event both of you attended.  Hell you hadn't even stood up for him and protested that he wasn't himself when the attack on New York had marked him as public enemy number one.

No, you had simply gone on with your life like nothing had happened and forgotten all about him as everyone else had his entire life.  And now you wondered why he was seeking retribution.

Had you only just said thank you or accepted one of his many dance offers.  Had you badgered Thor into realizing just how far Loki had strayed from the boy he had played with as a child.  But no, you had treated him worse than dirt and now your fate was sealed.  Yours and countless others.  So who was the real monster here then?  The god who had been cast aside for doing something any decent person would have done or you, who may now be responsible for many, many deaths as a result of thinking only of yourself?

Pulling against your bindings again as you still refused to accept defeat, Loki laying down beside you and muttering some nonsense as a redhead began writhing on the wall before you suddenly forced the reality of your new situation upon you however in a way his words never really could.  You were all at his mercy.  Sitting back on the bed then and asking him to stop, you exhaled a sigh of relief at his immediate compliance ... at least until he made his true intentions known.

Situating himself between your legs as his fingers and lips now mapped out every mound and hollow of your glorious body, his tongue and shaft reaching places no one ever had before left you completely lost as to what was so wrong with what was going on.  And that was long before the orgasms started.  The orgasms that shook your body, stole your breath and made you realize your life as you knew it would never be the same.  For there was no backing out of this arrangement even if Loki reversed whatever spell he had placed upon the party guests.  You couldn't give this up.

Sure the god of mischief had forced himself upon you by threatening innocent people, but damn him if he didn't make it worth your while.  Positions and toys you never knew of.  Pleasure that bordered on pain.  A tongue ... oh a tongue that could do so much more than spew filthy words that turned you on and disgusted you in equal measure.  And how could you even forget what his godly equipment was capable of.  A human phallus could never compete with his impressive erections, though many had tried.  No, as each night after your initial encounter became a new adventure in what depraved sex act your body could tolerate, even him disappearing in the morning without so much as a kiss on the forehead or a kind word could not it seemed protect your all too human heart.

You had started falling in love with him to the point where very little else mattered.  Work for example now became nothing more than a means of wasting away the day until night fell and your dark prince appeared once more to take you apart as you screamed his name for all the nine realms to hear.  Sure you still worked just as diligently and no one close to you ever suspected what night time brought your way, but beneath the sheets, in Loki's arms, someone else it seemed had taken your place.

Someone who loved to be dominated.  Who loved to be spanked, marked and pushed to new heights of pleasure over and over and over again at the whims of her dark lover.  Who loved ice it seemed far more than heat.  And who, no matter how many mornings her god pushed her arms aside and reminded her she was nothing more than a warm place to stick his cock, was only all too happy to provide whatever small comfort his body was willing to accept when he finally agreed her frail human form couldn't handle any more.

Which brought you back full circle now to him sleeping in your arms while your left leg rested across those muscular thighs that proved every bit as skillful at getting you off as the impressive length currently recovering from yet another night of pounding your pussy apart.  Pulling your body closer to his then as your mind finally accepted what you allowed him to do to you, you now prepared to join him in sleep as your dreams replayed him fucking you to pieces and then putting you back together into this new being that longed to have him acknowledge your growing feelings for him while also admitting that perhaps he too had fallen victim to love's influence.

Admitting that such a thing was most likely doomed to failure given who he was, his arm unconsciously moving up to encircle your waist brought a glimmer of hope you desperately clung to however when his muttered confession told you that his spell had been removed weeks ago.  Bolstered by this new information, the path ahead looked very different now however as your bodies rested together until your carnal desires called out to each other once more and this new dance took both of you to higher plains of euphoria all over again.

[fanficsbysteve]

Chasing Shadows

Note: So, this was originally going to be a Dinner Scene, but I couldn’t get that to work so I had to pivot and see what I could salvage and do something different. Fingers crossed you like it. I do intend to do a dinner scene later on. Just not right now. We also meet the Evan who likes to do internet deep dives a bit.

This comes from an idea that @weewoo911 put out into the universe and it latched into my head. The title comes from @verschlimmbesserung

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

***

Tommy listened to the music of his alarm clock go off, pulling him from the wonderful dream he had just been having. The dinner the night before with Evan had been wonderful. They had talked, they had eaten, Evan had stolen some of Tommy’s Spumoni. If Tommy didn’t know better, he would have assumed that Evan had tried to take him out for a date. But Tommy knew better. He had been following Evan’s career for years now. Ever since he had been in ‘My Heart Yearns.’ Tommy loved his RomComs, but he also had a weakness for this movie. The movie was basically one of those sappy Romance Novels put into movie form. The movie was hard to watch, mostly because the writing was so bad, but Evan was so perfect to look at. He knew that Evan only dated women.

Tommy turned his alarm off and lay back on his bed. It was a day off today, so he had planned to just do some work on his car. Maybe get some coffee. Maybe see if Hen could make it for a quick coffee. She was someone he needed to talk to about things. Like how he felt about Evan kissing him. She was the only queer person that he knew, so asking her would probably be the best option. She would hopefully keep things a secret as well, at least until he was ready to tell anyone else.

Picking up his phone, Tommy noticed he had a text from a number he didn’t recognize, “Hey, Its Evan. I put your number into my phone from the On Call sheet at the Fire Station. Hope you don’t mind.” Was all it said. Tommy had a minor panic attack. What was he supposed to do knowing that Evan Buckley, the man of his very erotic dreams sometimes, was now texting him.

Tommy – Its not a problem. Easier to ask me questions if you have my number.

Evan – Yes that’s exactly why I have your number 😉

Tommy – Aren’t you at the Firehouse today?

Evan – Yes and you aren’t. Why is that?

Tommy – I did say yesterday that I have today and tomorrow off. So, I’m going to be working around my house. Working on my car. Meeting Hen for coffee later.

Evan – The Firehouse isn’t nearly as fun without you around. Also explains why Henrietta isn’t around. Maybe tomorrow we can hang out? I really enjoyed dinner last night.

Tommy got flustered at that. He didn’t expect Evan to want to hang out outside of work. This man was a celebrity. He probably had things to do tomorrow that didn't involve Tommy. Like reading scripts or bedding beautiful women.

Tommy – Don’t let Hen hear you calling her Henrietta. She might murder you.

Evan – Seems everyone had a nickname around here, and yet you insist on calling me Evan instead of Buck, Thomas. Not that I’m complaining. I enjoy the way you say it.

Tommy – I mean I can call you Buck if you prefer that. Also the name on my birth certificate is actually Tommy. Not Thomas.

Evan – I’m fine with the way you say it. You are the only exception to the Buck rule. Also that is so cool that your name is actually Tommy. I've never met anyone like that. I mean there are probably any number of people who might have what is commonly referred to as a nickname as their legal name. Did you know that the word Nickname is not actually just a blending of the words Nick and Name? It comes from Middle English 'ekename'. Eke meaning 'Also' or 'In addition'. So a nickname is just an additional name or an also name. And over the years an ekename just became a nickname because of how English evolves and develops. How cool is that?

Tommy smiled at his phone. That was a random series of text messages to get first thing in the morning but it was a very fun fact.

Evan – The alarm is going off. I’m assigned to someone named Chimney today. How did he even get that name? I’ll message you when we get back.

Tommy placed his phone down and went about puttering around his house. He didn’t really have much to do today. He had planned to just relax, but after last night, he did want to talk to Hen. He picked his phone up and sent a quick text.

Tommy – Hey Hen, can we meet for coffee today? I need to talk to you about something and I don’t know who else I can talk to about this.

Tommy put his phone in his pocket and went to the garage. He started working on his car. This was one of this little loves in life. Well beside B-movies of course. Hen replied when he was elbow deep in the car he was rebuilding.

Hen – That sounds ominous. But I’m free before 3 today. Have to pick Denny up from School.

Tommy looked at the clock that he had in the garage with him. It read that it was 11 am already. He had really been engrossed in this rebuild.

Tommy – Meet at Philosafy? 12:30?

Hen – Sounds like a plan. See you there.

Tommy wiped his hands on a rag he kept around for this purpose and went into the house to clean up. Philosafy wasn’t that far away. He lived close to Hen’s place which was also close to the 118. He got lucky with this house. If he ever decided to transfer stations that would be annoying.

As 12:30 approached, Tommy decided to walk his way towards the coffee shop. He needed to get what he wanted to say straight in his head. He didn’t want to fuck this up and wanted someone to understand what he was talking about, and that person was probably Hen.

Stepping into Philosafy, Tommy looked around for an empty table and saw that Hen was already waiting at one. He waved quickly and went to get himself a drink, “Thanks for coming,” Tommy said as he sat down with his latte.

“Well, I didn’t really have much else to do today,” Hen replied taking a sip of her drink, “So what did you want to talk about?”

Tommy took a sip of his drink and tried to remember everything he had organized in his head, “Well you know that I’ve been a little off lately,” Tommy started to talk, “Since Evan started coming to the firehouse.”

“That is an understatement,” Hen said, “You used your eyes to stare down anyone who even suggested that it wasn’t you who was first with Buck.”

“Sorry about that,” Tommy said, “Well there was a reason for that I guess,” Tommy took a deep breath in before continuing, “Hen…I think I’m gay.”

Hen was lifting her drink up to her lips but stopped. She raised an eyebrow looking at him and replied with, “Not to diminish the monument that is this situation. But all I can say is about time.”

Tommy was speechless, “You knew?”

“Well, the signs were very subtle,” Hen said, “You had to look really hard to see them, and I’ve been learning to look for these things for years now. So, you don’t need to worry that anyone else has spotted it. But the weirdness you’ve been showing since Buck came around the building had solidified that theory in my head. So, congratulations.”

Tommy was flabbergasted at this. He had been trying so hard to hide this about himself from the people at work. It did help a bit when Hen said she was the only one that noticed, “So you aren’t shocked or disgusted?”

“Tommy,” Hen replied, her eyebrows raised, “Lesbian? What about you coming out would disgust me?”

“Sorry,” Tommy countered, “Just a force of habit. Didn’t have much of a happy time growing up so I just tend to think something is wrong with me.”

“Well, nothing is wrong with you,” Hen comforted him, “And you will never think that,” She laid a hand on his on the table, “So what spurred this sudden coming out?”

“I may have kissed a guy,” Tommy said in response, “And I kind of liked it.”

“OK Katy Perry,” Hen laughed, “Anyone I would know or did you work up the courage to go to a gay bar and just make out with a random stranger.”

“Oh, nothing like that,” Tommy laughed, “I haven’t worked up the courage to go to a gay bar yet. Maybe one day but right now you are the only one who knows. And I need you to promise that you won’t tell anyone this.”

“Coming out is a personal journey,” Hen was very comforting, “It isn’t my place to tell anyone about you being gay. That is for you to tell others when you are comfortable.”

“Evan may have kissed me the other night after shift,” Tommy blushed admitting this to anyone.

“Buck?” Hen sounded like she was impressed, “Can’t say I saw that one coming. He is good looking.”

“I thought you were a lesbian?” Tommy asked.

“Just because I can tell someone is good looking doesn’t mean I want to have sex with them,” Hen replied, “So you enjoyed the kiss?”

“It was one of the most magical and mind-blowing things I’ve ever experienced,” Tommy admitted, “I would not say No if he wanted to do it again. But I think I ruined it by running away anyway.”

“You ran away?” Hen asked, “Why would you run away from that?”

“Were you ever really not out?” Tommy asked, “I didn’t want anyone to see. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell people that I’m gay right now.”

“Touche,” Hen responded, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in the closet. Not in a couple of decades anyway. I don’t really get the point of it myself. We live in LA, California is one of the more accepting places in this country. So why be in the closet?”

“People like Gerrard,” Tommy replied, “I don’t know everyone well enough to want them to know what goes on in my bedroom. Not that anything is at this point in time, but it might someday, and I would prefer if they didn’t know about it right now.”

“Well, my lips are sealed,” Hen said, mimicking zipping her lips, “Now, what are you plans with Buck? Or do you not have any?”

“I mean I did enjoy the kiss,” Tommy admitted, “And I did enjoy going out for dinner with him last night. Maybe I would enjoy just going out and getting to know him.”

“Dinner already?” Hen joked, “You move fast. And I thought only lesbians brought a U-Haul on a first date.”

Tommy blushed, “I’m not going that fast. I don’t even know if he thinks of me just as a friend or not.”

“Well, that should be your first point of business,” Hen said, “You need to set your boundaries and respect his. If all he wants is friends you respect that. If he is interested in something more, you need to let him know your boundaries, and your pace, and you expect him to respect that.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tommy replied, “I’m not really good at this. I wasn’t even good when I was pretending to be straight.”

“Not everyone can be Chim,” Hen said, “Its been nice to chat,” Hen downed her coffee, “And I appreciate your trust in telling me about your true self. But I have to be heading out.”

Tommy watched at Hen got up from the table and walked out the door. He would have some thinking to do starting now. Was he ready for what was going to happen with all of this? Was he misreading the signs?

Getting up from the table, Tommy finished his latte and left the coffee shop as well. During his walk back to his place, he sent off a quick text. Evan had been lamenting how boring it was at the 118 today without him around.

Tommy – Tomorrow sounds great. Do you have anything in mind? Sorry for delay. Was at Coffee with Hen.

Tommy was nervous about the response he could get. The very least he wanted was a repeat of that kiss that Evan had given him. Something awoke in him when that happened. A fire within. He had not been able to stop thinking about it. The feel of Evan’s lips against his, the passion, but the tenderness as well. He didn’t need to wait long for the response.

Evan – I would love to meet up again. Lets go for a drink and see what happens.

Tommy felt the butterflies in his stomach at planning a meet-up with Evan. It was going to be a good day tomorrow.

***

Note: So here we go. This feels a little rough for some reason that I cannot place. But I managed to get it rewritten after scraping the original Dinner idea several times and not starting this until Thursday Morning and editing it for awhile on Friday. I might attempt a cutesy dinner idea later on but right now I just felt like it needed this scene more.

Also I learned the ekename to nickname thing from the Miriam-Webster TikTok account and confirmed it with my Linguist Partner. He knows many things. Maybe I shall learn you some of them now that I'm starting to give you Evan's deep dives into internet research.

Here there be tags: @thedyingwriter @all-the-feelss @justahumblecabbagemerchant @figuringitoutaloud @neverstopschanging @jamieroyjamieroy @cliophilyra and @inawickedlittletown

[darksigns-exe]

Sweet Like Honey - Hearts Like House Fires

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol consumption, anxiety attacks, infidelity, swearing, slight angst Word Count: 2.9k Read on AO3

For someone who prefers noise to drown out his own thoughts, he feels oddly at ease sitting next to this practical stranger. He can almost feel her settling into the chilled air. Silence is something he doesn’t award himself very often. And to share it with someone else feels like a form of intimacy that he isn’t exactly used to.

The music outside continues to boom. He can hear it even through the noise-cancelling headphones. Maybe he should be out there. This is as much his success as it is theirs. Noah has poured just as much if not more of himself into this album, but the idea of stepping out there and mingling with people who only care about their music now that it’s picked up in speed feels like the last thing he wants to do right now. 

He wants to be happy about this. The album has turned out so much better than expected and yet the bitter stench remains. The biting and clawing under his skin rarely leaves these days and it’s easier to hide behind the walls of sound than to actually face it. He knows that, as soon as he steps outside this door, they all will ask about her and then he’ll have to explain it all over again. The thought alone is enough to shatter his heart for the hundredth time that day. 

Maybe he should have expected it. It’s all been going too well. They’d been too happy, of course, something had to go wrong. He just doesn’t know how he didn’t see it coming. None of that matters now though. It’s done, he’s the one who has to deal with the aftermath while she’s off with that asshole doing god knows what. 

He’d long drawn his conclusions from it – or rather it had reaffirmed conclusions he had hoped were wrong. If he doesn’t want to get hurt he has to keep people at arm's length. He doesn’t want to be one of those miserable loner dickheads, but he’d rather be alone than allow himself to be subjected to this kind of fuckery again. 

It’s been exactly three weeks and five days since Noah found them in his bed and he swears that the stench of his cologne still hasn’t washed out of his sheets. The sofa in the studio isn’t as comfortable but it’s better than that. He is well aware that they all know that he hasn’t slept in his own bed in almost a month. Everyone except for Nick has had the decency to ignore that detail. He should have known that Nick would be the one to point out that he was only driving himself deeper into that hole. 

Has he listened? Of course not. 

Noah is stubborn above all else and this self-flagellation feels like the best thing he deserves right now. 

Really it’s his own fault. 

He tries to drown the laughter and cheering from outside. Maybe he could brave a quick excursion into the kitchen to fetch himself another drink. So far no one has come looking for him, perhaps that is a good sign. Maybe they’ve finally given up on trying to get him to leave it behind . God knows he tries, but three weeks doesn’t feel long enough to leave five years behind. 

Noah pushes away from the desk. Before he opens the door, he listens for a moment. He can’t hear much above the blaring music. He cracks open the door enough so that he can survey the kitchen. Someone is standing by the sink, her back facing towards him. He doesn’t recognise the girl, but that doesn’t mean much. He pushes out of the studio and into the kitchen. She doesn’t hear him enter and if he’s quick enough she won’t even know that he was here in the first place. He still tries to be quiet in his approach. He makes it to the fridge before he hears a startled yelp from behind him. 

“Jesus – fuck .” 

Noah finds her with one hand pressed to her mouth and the other to her chest. Wide, brown eyes stare at him still in deep shock. Her chest is heaving with deep breaths as she tries to calm herself down again. 

He’s stuck at the other end of the room. Something in his chest chokes up. Even at this distance, he can see the bright red under her eyes, the smeared makeup that faintly stains her cheeks. He doesn’t need to be a genius to know that she is just now gathering herself again. He knows the shaking of her hands, the trembling in her breath too well. 

The still open fridge beeps with alarm and Noah finally finds himself able to move again. Her eyes snap away from him and towards the main room of the house as if she is expecting someone to join them. 

“Are you okay?” his voice crackles with disuse.

Those wide eyes find him again and the sliver of fear that still lingers behind their warmth shoots through him like lightning. He doesn’t know her name or who she came here with but that absolute look of panic hurts in a way that is way too close to home. The idea that someone in this house – someone he might know – might be responsible for this makes him nauseous. 

Despite all that she nods because of course, she does. He’d do the same thing. 

“You don’t look it.” 

She clears her throat, swallows around a breath “Just a bit of panic.” 

Noah doesn’t understand how someone can look so absolutely devastated but still sound so sweet . There’s a little lilt of an accent that he can’t quite place in her voice. It’s faint but present enough to intrigue him. 

“I just didn’t hear you come in.” he hates that she sounds as if she’s trying to convince herself rather than him. 

He nods “Do you need something? Water?” 

He’s already back at the fridge without waiting for her answer. She’ll say no and try to worm her way out of the situation, he’s been in those very shoes all too often in recent weeks with Nick on the other side of the playing field. 

“I was gonna sit outside for a bit if you want to get some air?” 

The lie comes a little too easy, but maybe whatever tactics Nick has used on him might work on her. She gives a meek nod but waits for him to make the first move towards the sliding door. 

She steps outside behind him. 

It’s still warm outside even though they’re quickly moving towards winter. Not that it ever gets really cold here. The winters here are nothing like the biting cold from his childhood. She still wraps her arms around her body. He finds a somewhat out-of-view spot on the steps that lead down to the yellowed grass and sinks down. She sits next to him and while his feet reach all the way down to the soil, hers rest on the step below the one she sits on. 

“Did you come here with someone?” he asks eventually.

“My friend dragged me here just to disappear with some guy.” there’s a hint of amusement in her words. 

“Who’s your friend?”

“Tasha?” 

Of course, Tasha would be the one to ditch a friend just to get laid.

“I’m not surprised.” 

He watches as she fiddles with the label of her bottle “You know I couldn’t even leave if I wanted to.”

“Some friend you got there. I can go find her if you –”

“I’m never gonna hear the end of that.” this time she actually laughs. 

Noah makes the fatal mistake of looking at her. In the dim light, he can make out the little crinkles around her eyes, the way her nose scrunches up. She catches him looking at her. That smile stays and claws its way into his chest. It’s entirely out of left field and he doesn’t have the opposition to fight it. The feeling sits on his chest like a stack of bricks. Unmoving and heavy. It’s oppressive in a way that he really doesn’t want right now. 

“I’m Noah.”

“Bee.” 

Oh of course her name is as sweet as she looks. 

She holds her hand out for him to shake. He takes it and tries very hard not to think about how his hand practically envelopes hers. He doesn’t let go immediately, instead, he pulls her arm towards him to inspect the lines and patterns that decorate her skin. It’s some kind of floral motif. The time he has spent hovering behind Nick tells him it’s neotraditional. Noah turns her arm a little and she lets out a giggle . 

He can’t let himself be drawn in by her. This — if anything — has to remain friendly, purely platonic. 

He does release his grasp on her eventually. Bee remains close to his side though. He thinks that maybe the proximity helps to ease the probably still-wired nerves in her body. Or maybe he’s projecting. 

“Does that happen often?” He doesn’t know why he asks. It’s none of his business. 

“What do you mean?”

“The anxiety.”

“How do you —“

He lets out a dry laugh “Know it when I see it.” He shifts, so that can look at her properly “Listen, I'm not gonna pry. Not my place. All I want to know is if someone in here made that happen.”

She’s quiet for a suspiciously long time. And Noah watches as her manicured fingers pick at a loose thread in her jeans. It’s all a little too familiar. 

“I think it was just the noise. I don’t really know.”

They both know that it wasn’t just the noise, but Noah also knows that him trying to dig an answer out of her is the last thing she needs. He decides to drop the topic and instead allows the silence to simmer between them. 

It’s comfortable. 

For someone who prefers noise to drown out his own thoughts, he feels oddly at ease sitting next to this practical stranger. He can almost feel her settling into the chilled air. Silence is something he doesn’t award himself very often. And to share it with someone else feels like a form of intimacy that he isn’t exactly used to. There is no place to hide in the quiet, no place for his thoughts to go. In the quiet, he can’t distract from the fact that he is about as lost as she looked when he first saw her leaning on the counter in front of the sink. 

It becomes too much eventually. The dark at the corners of his vision keeps creeping in and instead of trying to shake it, he finds another momentary distraction. 

“I’ve never seen you around here,” he asks and the sudden noise makes her jump just a little. 

Bee places the now empty bottle next to her on the stairs “I’m only here because Tasha didn’t want to go alone.” 

“Can’t believe Tash’s never brought you around before.” 

“She offered.” the words come quiet and he gets it “Just been…busy I guess.” 

“I feel like I’d know if you’d work at the shop, so it’s not that. And if you’d for a label Tasha would have made you come around sooner.” he wonders out loud. 

Noah likes to think that he’s fairly good at reading people and so far she isn’t giving him the feeling that she doesn’t want this back-and-forth to continue. 

“You’re still like super cold.” 

“Alright…something creative?” 

“Cold.” 

“Academic?” 

“Warmer.”

“Tasha knows people that know things?” 

Her body seizes with one of those laughs that is more of a forceful exhale. It’s sweet. 

“I thought she only knows hot people and guys in bands .” his attempt to keep her laughing seems to be successful “Alright academic…you’re not a doctor of something are you?”

She shakes her head “Not yet at least.” 

“Big plans. I like that.” he swears that her cheeks get a little bit pinker at that “Not a doctor…so probably not medicine. Law? No, you don’t strike me as a law person. Languages?”

“Warm.” 

“Do you know how many languages there are?”

Bee looks more than amused at his incredulous expression. She shakes her head “I’m a paleographer.”

“A what now?”

Her body shakes with laughter. It’s warm and gentle and most of all it’s genuine.

“I work with mediaeval manuscripts and writing systems. Deciphering and dating and that kinda stuff.” She explains “I’ve been teaching for a couple of years, but I want to do more research again.”

It’s like he’s opened a dam because she doesn’t stop talking after that. There’s passion in every word and even though he only understands about half of the things she’s throwing at him he can admire how much she loves what she does. It’s almost as if the girl in front of him has been swapped out at some point because the timid and insecure words she’d offered before were now so emblazoned with love that it makes his head swim a little. He can easily see her in the front of a classroom swaying those bored faces. 

And she isn’t talking down to him either. It’s a full onslaught of terminology and when he asks what a specific term means she explains it with so much practised patience that he actually feels as if he’s learning something.

For the first time in almost four weeks since he found himself swimming in the middle of this near-endless void he doesn’t feel as if he’s drowning anymore. Bee doesn’t know about any of it. She barely knows who he is, bar his name and a few arbitrary details, but the last hour and a half has been the most meaningful conversation he’s had in ages. It feels as if he’s known her for years and in an odd way he feels as if he’s been missing her. 

It’s refreshing to talk to someone who is entirely removed from the madness he deals with every day. She has her own entirely different madness that couldn’t be more different than his. He wants to hear all about it, every trivial detail. She listens with the same attentiveness as he awards her and he thinks that for once someone actually hears him. The topics between them shift and change with the wind. It’s easy — comfortable. 

There’s a spell of silence between them when he notices her shiver. Noah debates himself briefly before he tugs off his sweatshirt and unceremoniously drapes it across her shoulders. He can feel her seizing up for a second when his hands touch her shoulders. She relaxes again after a few moments and to his surprise she slips it over her head. She swims in the garment that runs a little too large even on him and Noah doesn’t miss the little laugh she lets out when she tries to arrange her arms within the sleeves. 

“I can fit another one of me in this.” She says quietly.

He could probably fit himself into it as well if he tried hard enough. For a second his head drifts off into dangerous territory when he wonders how warm her skin feels, how soft it’d be. He shakes the thought from his head as quickly as he can. 

Arms. Length. 

She’s telling him about her cat, a little black thing named Barnabas when the sliding door behind them shifts open. 

“There you are.” Noah doesn’t have to turn around to know the source of the voice “I’ve been looking for you. I’m gonna head back home if you want a ride back.” Tasha comes to lean against the bannister next to him “I hope this asshole has behaved himself.” 

She throws a rather pointed look towards Noah. It’s deserved in a way. 

“No no, he’s been…very nice.” Bee quickly gets up on her feet “I think I should probably head back with you.” 

Noah wants to offer her a ride back but they’ve just met and he wants to spare her the awkward no thank you . That way he can keep her separate from himself for a little while longer. Tasha mumbles something neither of them really listens to before she heads back inside. 

They stand suspended in silence for a while. When he had previously felt so comfortable in the silence, he now feels bare and exposed in her eyes. The words he could say hang between them. The options are endless. 

“I’ll — I’ll see you around?”

A quiet way to say don’t let me become a stranger. It’s non-committal enough. 

She nods “Sure…I’d like that.”

“Good.”

It’s an unspoken promise. Unseen fingers that beg not to let the other vanish into the dark. 

She takes a step towards the sliding door and Noah thinks that this is it. That she’ll leave and this little bubble will pop and he’ll return to the space in the studio that is almost moulded to his frame now. 

She stops before she opens the door “Thank you, Noah. Really.”

Thank you he wants to say. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He says instead “Happy to help.”

She huffs out a laugh and pushes up the sleeves of his sweatshirt “I’ll go — Tash’s waiting.”

“Sure.” 

And then she does leave. He watches her slip through the crack in the sliding door, his sweatshirt still on her back. Bee waves to someone inside — Nick he assumes before she’s finally out of view. 

Noah doesn’t go back inside immediately. He sits back down on the stairs for a little longer. 

The drowning feeling doesn’t come back immediately. Only when he lies back on the sofa does it start to settle in his chest again. Maybe he should have asked for her number. Just to stay in touch. As friends. 

He doesn’t know that halfway across the city a young woman realises that she went home with the sweatshirt of a guy she barely knows. And he doesn’t know that she feels just a little bit warmer at the thought of him. Or that she lies awake wondering if she should have asked for his number. To stay in touch. Nothing more.

[storytowrite]

hey ml, how are you? 🫶🏻 thought i’d request something if that’s okay?

(i’ve been listening to this song and it gave me a wicked idea)

OT8 skz x 9th Fem!member reader where she argues with the boys and they all ignore her for a while which causes her to get into her head and she starts going a bit crazy? She is filming her solo MV as apart of SKZ-REPLAY and lets all of her crazy/psychotic thoughts out. The boys are told to come into jyp to talk about readers MV (which the boys hadn’t seen yet) and they all sit in shock whilst watching you go on a psychotic breakdown with the most sinister grin on your face?

Hello love ❤️ I really, really like the idea and I will definitely write it. Also I love the song! But please be patience because I have my finals so I’ll probably start writing again after I pass everything.

I’ll tag you anyway.

Kisses 😘

Hello love, As promised I wrote this idea and I hope that you would enjoy reading it. I'm so sorry that you had to wait for such a long time :C but the last week of January when I had my finals was so hard and exhausting that actually I needed to rest from everything. But thankfully I passed everything and now, being on my winter break, I can write more :D.

Anyway, here's the story I really hope you'll like it. Please enjoy and have fun reading it. ❤️

……………………..

Title: Happy Face

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2061

Warnings: swearing, mention of mental breakdown, Lee Know is kinda harsh on Y/N

……………………..

“...And I guess, they’ll never listen, ya know? Because I’m a girl.” Was the last thing you said before smiling creepily into the camera and tilting your head to the side. “But let me tell y'all a secret…” You said whispering. “I don’t need them anymore. Not at all.” You started laughing hysterically. There was something in your voice that made everyone, who was watching your live, shiver. Something’s changed. The switch had been switched and there was no way back. 

……………………..

“Ya! Y/N! Stop acting like a fucking child!” Changbin screamed as you ran before him, trampling over his music sheets. “I’m working, don’t you see?!” 

“I’m sorry Binnie! I’m just late and…” You started to explain yourself. 

“I don’t fucking care!” He scoffed. He didn’t like being interrupted in his work and you knew that. Everybody knew. You sighed heavily. 

“I said I’m sorry…” You said with a pout on your face and just left the room. Living with eight men in a dorm as a ninth member was sometimes hard. Especially before the upcoming comeback, when everyone was busy and stressed out. The season was just hectic. 

You arrived at the practice a little bit late. You entered the practice room, being welcomed by a disappointed view of coldfaced Lee Minho. “You are late.” He said harshly. “Why are you always late?!” His voice raised a little, which made you squirm.

“I’m sorry… I got stuck in traffic and…” You started but he didn’t want to listen. 

“I don’t care, Y/N. You should have left earlier then. We were waiting for you for almost 20 minutes! We don’t have this room reserved for long!” Minho was angry. 

“I’m so…” You started but again was interrupted by someone. 

“Okay, no need to actually fight… let’s start the practice again, all right?” Felix said softly and looked at you with a slight smile. “You remember the routine?” 

“Y-yes, I remember.” You answered. 

“Good.” Said Hyunin and turned on the music. “Let’s begin then.” 

The practice was good, but the tension between you and Lee Know was strong. You couldn’t understand what got into him. You did your best and gave more than 100%. You were a perfectionist so you always tried to be better and better.

Dancing with the danceracha was most of the time fun. But this time you couldn’t enjoy it as much as you would like to. Minho was harsh and pointed out each mistake that you made or at least the mistake that he thought you made. 

You were tired. You didn’t know what actually was happening with your body. You couldn’t stay straight most of the time. Your muscles ached and you felt a little dizzy. Your body didn’t want to cooperate with you at all. 

“Minho, I need a break.” You stopped the routine in the middle, panting heavily. “I really have no strength and my body is…” 

“I don’t care Y/N, you said that you remember everything. Just focus and dance again.” He said, rolling his eyes, creally annoyed. “You need to master these movements.”

“No.” You said looking at him. “I will not dance again now, I need a break. I’m tired.” 

“Let me repeat it, Y/N. No one cares that you are tired. We all are! You are messing up the whole choreography. I’m not going to change the routine again, just because you can't focus.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry that I am tired and my body can’t dance properly.” You rolled your eyes, snapping at him. “Maybe if you weren’t a douchebag you are right now and let me take a break just for ten minutes as you did with Hyunjin and Felix I’ll be in better condition to dance once again. I told you, my body…” 

“Maybe if you practised more you wouldn’t be as tired as you are right now?” He raised an eyebrow. “Instead of spending time gossiping around you should come here and practise often!” 

“First of all I don’t gossip! And second of all it’s none of your business what I do in my fr…” You couldn’t finish the sentence since Hyunjin interrupted you. 

“Y/N, just listen to the hyung. He’s right. You are messing up the choreography. And we are as tired as you are of repeating it all over again . You need to focus.” 

“I am focused! And stop interrupting me!” You raised your voice annoyed that Hyunjin is taking Minho’s side. “You both think that I don’t do anything?! I am trying to be as good as you guys are!” 

“Then try harder!” Minho shouted. “It’s not the first time you are messing something up! You are always messing things up! You think being an idol is supposed to be a light job? It’s not a playground Y/N! We are all tired of you and your constant excuses and being fucking tired. If it’s too much then… ”

“I don’t have any excuses! What the fuck you are talking about Minho?!” You were pissed. “I get that everyone is stressed out because of the comeback but don’t yell at me just because you are ruthless fucking douchebag, who thinks that by being mean…” 

“Call me a douchebag once again and I swear I’ll…” He started but you interrupted him. 

“You’ll do what, hm? Hit me?” You looked at him provocatively and Minho clenched his fits. 

“Okay, Allright.” Someone entered the danceroom. “Calm down everybody. Calm down. What’s all this fuss about?” It was Chan, who looked at you and Minho, seeking the explanation. Behind him the rest of the Stray Kids entered the room and looked at the two of you. “Why are you fighting? Everyone in the building can hear you.” 

“Apparently Y/N is once again tired of actually doing nothing.” Minho said venomously. “She doesn’t want to focus and I had to change the choreography too many times and…”

“Apparently Minho is treating me worse than he treats others.” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “He doesn’t let me take a break while Hyunjin and Felix rested all the time!” 

“Hey! That’s not true!” Felix and Hyunjin said at the same time. 

“Y/N I told you that you are messing the choreography up and…” Minho started once again.

“And I fucking told you that I’m tired, okay?! Why is no one listening? I have no strength recently and…” You interrupted him. You could feel the tears that formed in your eyes, both because you were pissed and just sad. 

“And that’s enough, watch your tongue Y/N.” Chan said firmly, sighing heavily. He didn’t let you finish your sentence. “Y/N, I heard from the boys that the only thing you've been doing recently is complaining. And I actually observed it by myself. If you need a longer break, we can talk with the managers about the hiatus and…” he looked straight into your eyes. 

“But I don’t want to go on a hiatus! What are you even talking about right now? Why is no one listening? You know what? I’m done for today.” You said, feeling like you were going to cry. You literally felt betrayed but all of the boys. “I need some time alone, ya know? I am done with all of you.” You grabbed your belongings and left the practice room, leaving all the eight men behind you. Nobody even tried to stop you. 

……………………..

A few hours have passed. You took a break and spent some alone time outside the building. You had time to rethink and calm yourself down. Maybe they were right at some point, but at the same time they didn’t listen to what you were going to say. It felt like you were just some kind of burden for them or they were annoyed with you with no further reason. 

After a long while you decided to come back to the JYPE building once again. It was really late and you were sure that no one was even there. You went straight into the danceroom, where you were going to practise. In the upcoming comeback, you not only had the performance with the danceracha but also had your solo song and MV as a part of SKZ-REPLAY. And at this point Minho was right. You had to master everything. 

You took off the hoodie you were wearing and put on the music. The routines weren’t that hard as you thought before. After some time of practising you, being content with the results of your hard work, decided to talk to somebody and share your thoughts. You were still upset with the boys so instead of calling them or your manager, you decided to make an Instagram live. The only people that you could rely on right now were your fans. 

“Hello guys, this is Y/N from Stray Kids.” You greeted your fans with a bright smile on your face. “How are ya?” You asked them and started reading some comments. “Am I in the practice room? Yeah, I’ve been mastering the movements for the new comeback… Uhm.. No, no I’m here by myself.” 

The fans started asking you questions about the comeback, the track and the boys and you tried to answer most of them with a big smile on your face. But it didn’t feel real. After a few more questions your smile started to drop. You didn’t want to show your fans emotions you were actually hiding all day, but eventually the bubble just burst. 

“Y/N is everything all right?” You’ve read out loud as the fans started asking you more serious questions. “Actually… no. Nothing is okay, ya know? I’m tired of being in this band. No, I am fucking exhausted! Don’t get me wrong, the guys…” You started and suddenly smirked looking straight into the camera. “Or you know what? Fuck it. Get me all wrong!” You laughed a little. “Maybe if I say what I’ve been trying to say recently, you’ll actually listen. Because believe it or not, there are people who don’t listen.” You let out the little giggle. But it wasn’t a happy giggle. You were trying so hard not to show the emotions that culminated in your body, that now you couldn't even pretend. 

Your fans started to be more concerned about your mental state. The people who were watching you at that moment were just scared. You didn’t act normal. You smiled at the camera, but there was something in your smile that no one could even name. 

“I’m happy! I’m happy! I’m happy today!... Hey! Put on a happy face!” You sang and started laughing. And your laugh was echoing in the empty room. Everyone who was watching your live was scared. But you didn’t care. The comments have stopped. No one dared to say anything. People were just looking at you but they didn’t know what to do.  

……………………..

At the same time that you were having a mental breakdown in front of thousands of people on the Internet, eight men sat in your dormitory, accompanied by managers, and watched you silently. They were either horrified or concerned, or both at the same time. Mixed emotions consumed them.

They were sure that they were the cause of your breakdown. Recently, they haven’t been very understanding. They didn’t want to listen to your silent cry for help. They were too focused on themselves that they didn’t see that you also had been experiencing a hard time. The instant remorse immediately seized them. 

“...And I guess, they’ll never listen, ya know? Because I’m a girl.” Was the last thing you said before smiling creepily into the camera and tilting your head to the side. “But let me tell y'all a secret…” You said whispering. “I don’t need them anymore. Not at all.” You started laughing again, but this time you laughed hysterically. There was something in your voice that made everyone, who was watching your live, shiver. Something’s changed. The switch had been switched and there was no way back. 

It was the only thing you added before you truly switched. They looked at your live with horror in their eyes. 

“Hyung… We have fucked things up. We all did.” It was I.N. who dared to speak, breaking the heavy silence. And those words will stay with them for a really long time. 

@ihrtlix

[wonderful-writers-au]

Could I request maybe Steve or Billy or JJ (I’m so sorry I’m so indecisive) where you’re at a party and a guy is being strange and invading personal bubble and Steve/Billy/JJ (whichever) steps in and is like jealous but justifiably and is just protective or however you think they’d react?

I’m so sorry and I hope this is okay, this is my first time requesting something and I feel like I’m about to sweat from stress and nerves

Too Close For My Liking Man

JJ Maybank X F!Cameron!Reader

W/C - 1.0K

Summary - Some guy is invading your space and JJ doesn't approve.

Warnings - Angst, fluff, swearing, alcohol use and alcohol + drug mention and that's abt it i think!

You toss around in your bed sheets as you hear booming music over the speakers Rafe set up in the house. Fuck him. You had a test at school tomorrow and you did not need this. Rafe didn't understand, he fails school and Dad still pays him money for motorbike fuel and crack. You fail and he'll disown you. Rafe was so privileged, and you hated it with every bone in your body.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, you sigh and turn it on.

Sare-Bear 🐻

Babes, you need to come down here rn. Rafe is going to kill you.

Why?

Your little crush arrived.

Shit. Read 11:23 am

--------

You put a proper tight dress that you had for any occasion, you weren't about to show up in a baggy T-shirt and worn-out jeans. 'Your little crush arrived.' She meant JJ, a pouge. She was right, Rafe will kill you. As long as you reach JJ before he does. You put on heels and walk out of your room and down the stairs.

"Hey! Hey! Y/N! I was hoping to see you here!" JJ exclaims as he brushes your shoulder with his fingertips. "What the fuck are you doing here?!" You half yell, you grab his wrist and lead him into your bedroom.

"We're already in your room princess? I thought you would've had some drinks first before we got in this position." He smirks. You shake your head and try to not say something back like you usually would. He looks at your bookshelf and scans the books with his fingers. "Answer the question." You mutter out.

"Uh, I'm here because the pouge were having drinks at the chateau, right? Anyway, Kie and Pope went somewhere and John B, I don't even fucking know, but I turned on the TV and started thinking about us!" He explains and you tilt your head ever so slightly at him. "In what way?"

"Well, we flirt, all the fucking time right, so what if we were more." He asks, taking a step closer to you, you were still at the door, fingers crossed no one will come in and ask why you had a man-whore of a pouge in your room. "Uh, two things, one, my dad will kill me, two, Rafe would kill both of us."

"But I just think that you're so pretty and th-""Look, JJ, I really am flattered, but we will never work, you're a pouge, I'm a kook and my parents and sibling will kill my ass." You interrupt him and he nods. He looks so sad; you would do anything just to make this moment never exist. Fuck the test tomorrow you just broke a friendship with someone who meant some much to you and as what he is saying to you makes so much sense to your heart it doesn't as much to your brain.

He steps closer to you and places a kiss on your lips so softly and breaks the kiss. You really wanted more, but you wanted alcohol more now. "Bye, Y/N." JJ mumbles as he leaves. Shit. Shit. Shit. You wish with everything that you could retake those words and never of said them in the first place. You wish that you let him finish his goddamned sentence.

You slowly walk out of your room and down the stairs. You walk into the kitchen and find a bottle of Malibu and slowly pour out shots for yourself until a guy comes around and slowly starts making small talk with you. "So, what are you doing all alone?" He asks you.

"I actually live here for your information." You slur. He smirks at your remarks and cups your elbow. He tries to pull you in, but you push away. "Have you had one to many, princess? I didn't know you lived here." You sigh and push off the counter and try to go to the bathroom, but he stops you and holds your waist.

As soon as he said princess, that's when you wanted nothing to do with him. It reminded you too much of the friend you just lost about thirty minutes prior to when he came around. Fuck, you really couldn't get out of talking to him, could you?

"So, are you dating someone? Or are you mine for the taking?" The guy asks and you nod your head. He was holding your waist hard, too hard. You wanted to disappear and never see him again, but as soon as you try pull away, his grasp on you grows stronger.

"I'm-""Taken. By me, so please, step away, you're standing too close for my liking man." You hear JJ say, the look on the creeps' face as he backs away from you and JJ takes you to your own bedroom. You hug him as soon as the door closes and your press a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you so much, I don't know what I would've done without you." You whisper in his ear. As soon as you back away, your eyes go to his lips and his hands slither around your waist. Your lips hover inches away from each other's as you decide to break the gap and kiss him. Your arms twine around his neck and you giggle as you both break the kiss.

"I think we might just make it after all." You smile

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A/N - Please request things if you want! I have a couple that I am working on but here is the people that I write for ***

Taglist request here **

@idky5

[blueink01]

Ch. 2: Immediate Murder Professionals

The Next Day at the Imp City-

The Chapter starts at the I.M.P building that recides in the Imp city in Pride ring. The sound of the busy streets can be heard in the background.

The scene transitions to a closed door labeled "IMP Headquarters", with a crude sign made from a sheet of notebook paper that reads, "Meeting in progress" with a smiley face drawn next to it. Inside, Blitzo is walking in front a whiteboard on the wall as he lectures his employees

"Alright. Now, I know business has been... a bit slow lately, yes. It's no one's fault, okay? I'm not naming any names here.." He looks at Moxxie.

"Moxxie." Moxxie gives him an incredulous look in response.

"Now, does anyone have... any bright ideas on how we can get business drummin' up again?" Millie leans over the table with her eyes sparkling. "What about a car wash?"

"We're in hell, Mills, no one gives a fuck about clean cars." Yn replies to her idea. Blitzo thinks for a second.

"Wh- Ooh! What about a billboard?" Blitzo waves his hands with an enthusiastic flair as sparkles fly out. Moxxie rolls his eyes.

"We can't afford a billboard, sir." Blitzo wraps his arm over Moxxie's shoulder.

"Helpful, Moxxie. Really glad you're in the room right now." He pushes Moxxie away.

"Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?" Blitzo turns on a TV that shows the I.M.P. crew brutally murdering people from the overworld as they are paid to do. Blitzo whacks a man in the face with a mallet, Moxxie is blown away firing a shotgun through the mouth of a man tied to a chair, Loona swings a man back and forth in her mouth, Yn snaps a persons neck so that is spins around a few times before falling off, and Millie decapitates someone with a harpoon and laughs. Everyone is watching the TV, with Loona, Yn, Millie, and Blitzo eating popcorn.

"Ahh, those were the good times." Blitzo smiled.

"I don't need any reminding, sir. Considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week. One that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel... nobody watches." Moxxie said.

"Uh, hey. Excuse me? What's "obnoxious" about a super-fun jingle, alright? It's a fun distraction when an advertisement's spittin' bullshit!" Blitzo explained.

"People love musicals, sir." Millie added.

"That's true." Yn agreed.

"Exactly, Millie! And we're basically doin' a musical." He does jazz hands.

"Are you gonna crush my musical theatre dreams like my dad did?"

"Sir--"

"Cause, right now? All I see is just my dad's asshole talking to me! Crushing my dreams of being who I truly am inside."

"Are you tryin' to crush his dreams, Moxxie?"

"Wow, Mox. That's fucked up, I thought you were a classy man." Yn said in a flirty tone.

"I-- What?" Mille leans closer to Moxxie in a flity way.

"I thought I knew you." She playfully sticks her tongue out at Moxxie as she blushes and rolls her eyes affectionately.

"I can't believe you, Moxxie!," She tearfully holds up an employee of the month plaque with Moxxie's picture on it. "After I made you employee of the month!" Yn chuckles while looking at the photo of Moxxie.

"Okay, sir! I'm sorry; a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theatre. Nobody actually likes the jingles!" Moxxie said.

"I liked it." Millie supporting Blitzo.

"Me too. It was good." Yn added.

"Do not--" He points at Yn and Millie. "Do not agree with him in front of me!"

In the I.M.P. commercial-

"Hi, there! I'm Blitz! The "o" is silent, and I'm the founder of I.M.P.!" He gestures to the logo as it appears on screen, then disappears. Two pictures of Blitzo in different scenarios show while he speaks. The first shows he wearing two top hats through her horns, a monocle, and twiddling a fake mustache, while standing outside of a burning building with a sign that reads "Orphanage for Elderly Blind Newborn Dogs" appears. The second shows Blitzo wearing an angel costume at a coffeehouse happily throwing an empty coffee cup in a trash can, instead of the recycling bin right next to it.

"Are you a piece of shit that got yourself sent to Hell, or are you an innocent soul who got F**KED over by someone else?!" The commercial cuts to a demon guy wearing an Ohio sports jersey, giving a testimonial, while Blitzo holds a cardboard sign in frame that reads "Some guy who hired us!!".

"After lovingly killing my wife for f**king the delivery man, you can imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the state of Ohio killed me! I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body!" The Demon Guy Shares.

Blitzo is speaking to the camera and holding a grimoire, while Moxxie and Millie are arranging lit candles on the floor in a pentagram while Yn is putting guns and drugs into bags. While Blitzo speaks, his eyes narrow as he does a magical gesture with his hand and a flaming portal appears on the floor. Moxxie and Millie run off in surprise. She tosses the grimoire aways as she walks up to the portal.

"Well, luckily for you. Thanks to our company's special access to the living world, we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive!" He falls backwards into the portal. The scene transitions to a person with their arms crossed and a thought bubble appears depicting another person being crossed out as the commercial jingle vlavs in the background.

"~When you want somebody gone,~" A dead body falls near the person as they notice and look up.

"~and you don't want to wait too long~" Yn, Moxxie, Blitzo, and Millie are shown in a circle logo. Blitzo holds her arms out as Moxxie holds up her rifle, Yn holds a cane sword in a slashing motion while smiling and Millie holds up her spear. A letter "I" appears to the left of them, while a letter "P" appears on the right of them. The four together form a letter "M", thus spelling the initials I.M.P.

"~call the Immediate Murder Professionals!~" Yn, Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie are inside of their building and Moxxie throws a grenade out the window. The four cover where their ears would be as an explosion goes off. A severed arm goes flying.

"~Hand grenade or cyanide,~" Blitzo is shown hanging someone with a rope as Millie finishes writing a suicide note and Yn is throwing bags of drugs around the room.

"~We'll make it look like suicide~" Blitzo is shown electrocuting someone, Millie is shown hitting someone on the head with a mace, Yn is cutting someone's limbs off and Moxxie is shown strangling someone.

"~The Immediate Murder Professionals!~" The I.M.P. logo spins around quickly as the scene transitions to Blitzo creating a portal to the living world in a wall, then jumping through it. He is followed by Yn, Millie and then Moxxie, who trips over the grimoire and falls into the portal.

"~We do our job so well,~" The four come up through the other end of the portal and adjust themselves.

"~Because, we come straight out from Hell!~" The I.M.P. trio suddenly look shocked as it appears they have accidentally teleported to a church in the middle of a service. A female preacher and the congregation look back at the demons in confusion/fear.

One bearded man, however, has his head laid back as he sleeps with earbuds in. Millie is shown struggling to remove a knife from a naked couple who are in 69 position, while Yn is covering Moxxie's eyes, and Blitzo examines a pair of panties.

"~We'll kill your husband or your wife~" Blitzo stabs someone tied to a chair repeatedly in the head while sporting a goofy expression.

"~We'll even let you keep the knife~" A quick sequence then shows the four assassinating their targets in numerous horrific ways, such as with a medieval torture chamber, riding a shark, burning someone alive, suffocating someone with a pillow, playing on a grand piano after it crushed someone, and using an electric chair. In the final scene, the four are hiding in a bush in a park and Moxxie is about to shoot a blonde woman looking at her phone from behind.

"~We're the Immediaaaaate... Murderrrrrr... Profession--~" Moxxie accidentally shoots a boy passing by, eating an ice cream cone.

"AUUUGH!" The boy collapses as Moxie looks on in shock. Yn, Blitzo and Millie turn their eyes to Moxxie in surprise.

"Wow, Mox."

-Time Skip in Hospital-

The boy is wheeled into a hospital operating room on a hospital bed by a doctor, a pink-haired nurse, and a blue-haired nurse

Pink-haired Nurse: "Doctor, he's not responding!"

Blue-haired Nurse: "Cool water, stat!" The pink-haired nurse whacks the boy in the face with a bucket of water, doing nothing but leave a large welt on his face.

Blue-haired Nurse: "It didn't do anything!" The boys tongue flops down from his mouth.

Doctor: "Dammit! I'm not losing another one." Everyone has their defibrillator paddles over the boy.

Doctor: "CLEAR!" They all zap the boy and he wakes up with a gasp.

Doctor: "Holy shit! It actually worked." Yn, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie are waiting outside the boy's hospital room. Blitzo is reading a magazine, while Yn and Millie comfort Moxxie, who looks devastated. The doctor comes out of the room with a clipboard.

Doctor: "He appears to be in stable condition, but he'll need surgery." He looks up from clipboard.

Doctor: "Now, what insurance provider do you freaks have?"

"The fuck is insurance?" Yn quickly stands up and punches the doctor through a wall. Outside of the hospital a window breaks and the boy's hospital bed flies out. The boy is unconscious in the bed, while Millie, Moxxie, Yn, and Blitzo are holding on for dear life as they plummet screaming to the ground. The bed is stopped by a rope that has become tangled around Blitzo's foot. Blitzo slams his face into the bed, the rope snaps, and they all continue to fall.

"~Kids die for freeeeeee!~"

Back at I.M.P.-

The scene cuts back to the boardroom. Yn, Millie and Moxxie are sitting across from Loona, who has her feet up and is watching a video on her phone of Moxie getting hurt

"I'd like to go on record and say that incident was Loona's fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target. It's very simple." Moxxie jesters to Loona.

"Oh, sit on a d*ck, Moxxie." Loona replied still on her phone.

"YOU sit! Sit on... a... and the... d-- DO YOUR JOB!!" Moxxie yells.

"Hey, now. We don't blame our screwups on Loona, okay?! She didn't do anything wrooooong~" Blitzo hugs and nuzzles Loona, who snarls at him in response.

"...Are you kidding me, sir? She's awful!" Moxxie insulted.

"She's not that bad." Yn said defending Loona.

"What?!" Moxxie yells, looking at Yn shocked while Loona smiles.

Flashback with Loona-

Loona sits at her desk, reading a magazine called "Monthly", Her desk phone rings with the sound of a cute puppy barking as the ringtone.

"Hello, I.M.P." Loona answers without even looking up from her magazine.

<Loona, I got stabbed! Call Yn or Mox-> Loona suddenly hangs up, disinterested in the conversation. Next, she is in Blitzo's office.

"Happy Adoption Anniversary, Loonie! I got you a little somethin'." he presents her with a gift.

"Is it a cure for syphilis?" Loona interrupted Blitzo figuring out what was in the present.

"I... Oh..."

"THEN, I DON'T WANT IT!" Loona snatches the present and angrily slams it on the floor.

"UGHHH!" A large swarm of spiders suddenly emerge from the present box and swarm Loona up to her neck.

"I'm sorry! It was spiders!" Blitzo is suddenly hiding outside of the office window.

"Goddammit." Yn walks over to Loona with a small box.

"If it's not the cure for syphilis, then don't bother."

"It is the cure." Yn said. She looks at the spiders, her eyes glowed yellow than red scaring the spiders away.

"It is?"

"Yeah." Yn hands her the box and she opens it seeing the cure. She hugs Yn while her tails is waving around.

"Now we can have some fun later~" Yn blushed heavy red at the thought.

Loona is then shown at her desk, watching an online video of Charlie performing "Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow".

"Um, c- excuse me. Did you just fax me an ad for weight loss.?" Moxxie approaches her with a flyer for "Chub B Gone".

"No."

"Wha-- Why- Why would anyone send me this?"

"C'mon.." She looks up at Moxxie. "You know why."

The next scene shows Loona rummaging through the break room fridge.

"Whoever left the fucking... avocado salad in the fridge, I'm taking it, because I have the worst hangover right now!" Loona turns around to face Millie with a red box in hand as she shuts the fridge door with her foot. She rips off the lid and drinks the salad.

"Why would you drink on a work night?" Millie questioned.

"I'm hungover from this morning, dumbass!" Loona angrily responded back finishing up the salad. Yn and Moxxie enter the room and notices Loona with her box.

"Isn't that my lunch?" Loona drops the box on the floor.

"Y'know what?! I can't take this assault right now! I need to blow off some-" She kicks the box at Moxxie, knocking her out of the room and surprising Yn and Millie.

"-f**king steam!" She picks up Yn and moves her to the side. Loona runs out of the break room and out into the street.

"AAAAAAAAAAH!" Loona runs up to a succubus lady passing by on the other side of the street, pushing her baby in a stroller.

Loona kicks the stroller high into the air and storms off, while the demon lady stands there in disbelief. The scene transitions to Loona at her desk, telling Yn and Blitza about a caller.

"Blitz! Yn! That clingy, rich asshole is on the phone! Says it's urgent and wants to talk to you! He sounds a little DTF-y." Yn, Blitzo and Moxxie are standing by a water cooler. Blitzo throws his cup of water on the floor.

"Oh, GOD, it was one time! If we hadn't slept with that privileged asshole, none of us would have access to the living world." Moxxie stares in stunned silence.

"..You what?"

Flashback in a Bedroom-

Stolas is sleeping naked in bed. He is hooting like an owl and there are feathers everywhere. Blitzo, who is partially nude, walks away quietly with the grimoire in hand. Yn puts on her clothes and she cracks her back.

"How can a bird be that thirsty and kinky?" Yn question, she can feel her lower half of the body is sore.

"Got the booook, got the booook! Got this fuckin' heavy book!" Blitzo keep repeating himself.

Blitzo reaches Stolas's balcony and lays the grimoire on the ledge. Grunting, he attempts to step up on the ledge using the grimoire. Instead, the combined weight sends both his and the grimoire falling forward off of the balcony. Yn runs towards him and grabs his tail but she too falls off the balcony.

"Fuck!" "Oh- Oh, SHIT!!" Yn and Blitzo lans on the cake that Stolas's wife and her friends are having, splattering pieces of it all over them.

"Oof! Sorry, we fucked your husband."

"Sorry for the cake." Blitzo picks up Yn and runs off.

End of Flashback-

"BLIIIITZ! NN!"

"Yeah! Yeah!" Yn yelled back as she pinches the bridge of her nose and a hand on her hip.

"WE HEARD YOU ALREA-!" Yn and Blitzo are in his office, talking with Stolas, and playing with a bobblehead of Moxxie while Yn is sitting as far away from Blitzo as possible knowing that she's gonna hear some fucked up stuff.

"Sooooo, what can we do you for this time, Stolas?" Stolas is shown talking on his phone from a fancy mansion.

"There's a political candidate causing trouble up on Earth for a few of my associates. He's trying to convince people global warming exists."

"Doesn't it?!" Yn asked.

"Well... yes. But, more people die if nothing is done about it. And it gets lonely here~"

"Okay, well. Yeah, that makes sense." Blitzo replied.

"You know what happens when I'm lonely, Nn and Blitzy?"

"Oh boy... Here it comes..." Yn said as she is leaning back.

"God-f**kin'-dammit." Blitzo pulls his phone away and talks to himself.

"When I'm lonely, I become hungry. And when I become hungry, I want to choke on that huge **** of yours, ****** Nn's ****** and lick all of your ****, before taking out You're ******, and ***** with more teeth until we're screaming ****** like two FUCKING babies--!" Yn is looking blankly at a wall while clawing her ears out. Blitzo, who's visibly disturbed, on his phone Stolas name is listed as "creepy mouth (aka one night stand bird d*ck)" with a call total of 48 seconds. as he hangs up, a knock out noise plays.

He snaps his cellphone in half, smashes it with his desk phone, tosses said desk phone away, pulls out a blender, puts the cellphone pieces in it, and blends them. Blitzo turns and hands the blender to Loona, who was standing nearby.

"Eat this!" Loona drinks the blended cellphone mixture.

"And then y'know that bridge over the freeway?"

"Yeah?" Loona raises her eyebrow as she says.

"Take my car and sh*t off it.." Yn said intensely.

In the Meeting Room-

"Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family, and we don't get rid of family." Loona looks up from her phone and briefly smiles, touched by Blitzo's words.

"We aren't a family, sir! You are the boss! We are the employees! You treat her like she's some troubled teenager! She's more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phones!" As Moxxie rants, Loona continues looking at her phone, slowly flipping Moxxie off.

"That is offensive! Without homeless people.." He walks over to window and raises blinds, "I wouldn't have HALF the joy and laughter I do in this life!" Blitzo puts his face up against the window, cracking the glass, and sees a homeless demon, looking sad and holding up a sign that reads "Money helps. Satan bless." A succubus is on her cellphone and turns away from the hobo. Blitzo smugly waves at him, before lowering the window blinds.

"While we're on the subject of "family", can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work?" Moxxie looks at Blitza annoyed.

"Come on, sweetie! It's not that big a deal!" Millie said with hand jesters.

"Overreacting much." Glass shattering noise plays as Moxxie makes a stocked face.

"Excuse me... WHAT?!" He looks at them both.

Flashback-

Moxxie and Millie are preparing dinner in their kitchen

"Honey, can you get me the butter?"

"Sure, sweetie." Millie opens the fridge door and finds Blitzo inside as he hands her the gross, viscous butter.

"Spoiler alert: the butter's spoiled!" Millie giggles. Moxxie throws the diced carrots into the soup.

"What's funny, honey?"

"Really impressive wordplay."

"WHAT THE--?! WHY ARE YOU IN OUR FRIDGE?"

Later that evening, shows a building, Inside their Moxxie and Millie are asleep in bed. The former is tossing and turning as the sound of a cat purring can be heard. Moxxie opens his eyes and sees Blitzo standing on him, looking him right in the eyes.

"Whatcha dreamin' about?"

"I was dreaming my parents were being murdered while Yn is destroying my and Millie's a**es, but now... I'd like to go back to that."

In the next scene, Moxxie is singing the end of "Oh, Millie", as Millie joins in on some parts. "~Of all the imps in Hell,~"

"~it's for her that I fell~"

"~It's for him that I fell~"

"~Oh, Millie~" They close their eyes to kiss, but Moxxie notices Blitza outside the window holding a camcorder.

"Are you fucking filming us right now?!"

Flashback Ended-

"Just... stop... doing that!" Moxxie scratch the table.

"I don't see what the issue is! There somethin' you don't want me seein'?" Blitzo shrugs.

"No!" Moxxie's eye twitches in anger.

"You a baby-wenner-hammer?" Yn and Loona snicker at the same time as Blitzo talks.

"Sir, what you say and how you act is totally INAPPROPRIATE!" Millie lays her hand on Moxxie's shoulder.

"Calm down, Mox! You're gonna have another panic attack!"

"I AM CALM!" Moxxie starts whimpering in anger while looking back at Blitzo.

"Shh-shh-shh. There, there." Millie pats his head.

"Look, I don't judge the boring couple stuff.." He motions his hands to imply sexual activity, "...you do outside work hours. So, don't... judge me!"

"Oh, I do judge you, ma'am! Quite a lot, actually!"

"Mox, he's our boss!"

"No-no-no, it's fine Mills, your husband is just... how do I say this without being offensive? retarded" Blitzo smudged.

"Does immaturely insulting me make you feel better about your sad, single life?" Blitzo leans towards Moxxie.

"It actually does." Loona then jumps in on the confrontation.

"The only reason you have a wife is because you're easy to manage!" She looks away from her phone to glare at Moxxie. Millie slams her hands against the table, looking at Loona with anger.

"No, he's not, you BITCH!" She flips Loona off. Loona growls at Millie.

"This is priceless." Yn leans back in her chair while eating popcorn, enjoying the show.

"Do not talk to my receptionist that way! She's sensitive!"

"Yes, I am!"

"You guys are all f**king a**holes." Yn, Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie, and Loona's eyes all widen in surprise. They look at Eddie, the boy Moxxie accidentally shot earlier. Eddie is lying on a table with three wires from a heart monitor attached to his stomach.

"Oh, shut up, kid! You're lucky to witness this!"

"Ugh, this company is such a mess!" Moxxie pinches bridge of his nose.

"Alright, let's get back to talking about my outfit."

"Nobody was talking about that, Blitz."

"Which is why I'm tryin' to get that ball rolling. So, how does it look? It's good, right?"

"Sure... Let's go with that.." Yn said.

"It's been a literal hell.." He detaches the tubes of the heart monitor, "having to pretend to be paralyzed so you f**ksh*ts wouldn't kill me! But, now I want that. I want death!" He points at Blitzo.

"You are a selfish, greedy clown. And I'm a kid! We're supposed to like clowns! Even the creepy ones!"

"Hey, now! That's not very-" Eddie interrupts Moxxie, intimidating him, "If I wanted to hear from a spineless jacka**, I'd rip out your spine and ask you some sh*t." Millie slams her hand on the table, the other gesturing at Moxxie.

"That's my husband you're talkin' to!"

"That's your husband?!" Moxxie and Millie snarl at Eddie, "I figured you for a sl*t. But, I didn't know you needed d*ck that bad!"

"And You!" He points at Loona.

"What? What about me?"

"Nothing. I don't talk to dogs. I'm a cat person." Loona gives a wide-eyed glare, whines at Eddie with anger, and goes back to looking at her phone.

"Wow. Y'know, kid, you are a huge piece of sh*t." Yn said.

"Yeah. He's kind of a piece of sh*t." Everyone in Union agreed.

Eddie looks at Yn, "Don't do it..." he points at him.

"You-" Loona's eyes widen as she receives a text message.

"Oh, f**k! Guys, I just got a text from our client! Guess he was the right target after all."

"Who?"

Him." Loona points at Eddie.

"Him?" Yn looks At Eddie.

"Me?"

"Yup." Loona responds smugly, without looking up.

"They wanted us to kill an actual child?"

"That's what they're sayin'."

"Well, Christ on a stick. I guess there is a God."

"АHHАННННН!" Before he can shoot Eddie, Yn makes fire slowly climb up Eddie's body, he screams as he's skin is slowly being turned into ash.

Yn lifts her hand making Eddie crashe into the wall, all of his skin gone from his body, he lands on the table while his eyes turn to Xs.

"Damn it, Lovely! I wanted to do that!" He throws his pistol onto the floor.

-Time Skip-

Then blood covers the screen, then reveals Yn, Blitza and Moxxie kicking Eddie's corpse, Millie stabbing him, and Loona recording everything on her phone.

"Y'know, folks? With this company, I really wanted to prove that we're capable of doing the same things anyone else can. Like killing people!" Blitzo and Moxxie are shown wearing full hazard gear, dismembering Eddie's body with a hacksaw and chainsaw respectively. Blood splats on the screen again, then shows the group by a dumpster putting Eddie's body parts in a garbage bag.

"So, from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money... is gone and you're never getting it back, and you can write us a bad review but we'll play dumb to it, because it's Hell and no one f**kin' cares." Blitzo hugs Yn, Moxxie, Millie, and Loona, the latter's phone flying out of his hands.

"Y'know, even though this kid was a target... he's still a child. And it's important that we handle this going forward respectfully." He wraps his tail lovingly around the group. The group all smile as the scene cuts to a newscast, showing Eddie's mother tearfully holding up a bad drawing of her son. A male news reporter holds a microphone up to her, looking disinterested. The headline on screen says, "Mom sucks at drawing own kid", while the ticker bar constantly reads "There is a missing boy! Yet another missing kid!"

"Please! If anyone has seen my little Eddie, please contact us at-" Eddie mother is interested by a bag full of Eddie's bloody body bag suddenly falls into her arms.

"OHHH!" Eddie's mother and the news reporter look up in shock as the camera follows their gaze. Yn, Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie are shown looking down on them through a portal. Blitzo smiles and waves.

"You're welcome!"

"You're a sh*t mom, ya wh*re!" The four disappear in the portal as it closes.

~Ending with a Cut To Moxxie singing to Millie~

Previous Page: Ch. 1: The Hazbin Hotel

Next Page: Ch. 3: The Murder Family

Beginning: Front Cover

[rdhadastroke]

So this straw-masked dumbass decided to do a thing and share some personal tips about writing fanfiction/writing someone else's character/writing in general!

Please keep in mind that I am a hobbyist writer, not a professional! These are just suggestions/things that help me that may or may not work for you, please feel free to correct me or add your own anecdotes :)

Tips for getting ready to write:

Make sure that you're in an environment where you can concentrate.

Whether that be in a quiet room, a chatty café, or blasting your eardrums out with music, whatever gets you in the groove is good. Not everybody can focus in the same environment, so your choice of surroundings for when you right aren't going to be the same as everyone else's. I (personally) listen to long video essays, my current favorite song on loop, or a playlist about the story/characters.

Clear a space for where you want to write.

Clear the space of excess clutter and keep only what you need. If what you need to write is a lot, that's fine! Having too much going on at once in your writing space can overwhelm and/or distract you. I know from personal experience.

Have all of your materials at hand.

Character sheets, previous stories, note paper to jot down ideas, rough environment & scene sketches... Whatever references and tools you need, keep them with you! Also, keep a glass of water or some other drink nearby. Hydrate or diedrate, my friends.

Make sure that you won't be interrupted while you're writing.

This may not be an option for those of you living with your parents or a roommate, but it's ideal for your creative flow to go undisturbed, uninterrupted, and unwatched. Is your father really watching you write your fanfic? No, probably not, considering that he's snoring. But it still feels weird to write when he's sitting in his armchair right behind you. No, I am not projecting my experience onto the reader under the cover of an absurd joke, why would you say that?

Now that setup is out of the way, let's go over some actual writing stuff:

Always, always, always block out what you want to write before you actually write it.

By "block out", I mean give a basic summary of the events you want to take place in that chapter or segment. I usually do this event-by-event because I struggle to carry on a story without an outline, but you can do it by chapter or by paragraph if you'd like. Make jokes in your mini-summaries, and phrase things in wacky ways (that convey things to you effectively)! You don't have to be too serious about it. After all, if you're in a lil silly goofy mood, you can get an epic sentence like this:

If you get stuck on a part of a story, move on and save it for later.

If you're anything like me, you understand the screaming, crying, pissing, pants-shittingly frustrating experience of not knowing how to describe something or figure out what should be said next. As angering as it is, it's okay. Just write a mini block-in for what you want to happen, want to describe, or the general tone of what you want to be said. Or use a keyword that you can Ctrl+F for to finish those pesky scenes when you're ready. If your writing software can do it (I have no clue if any one program does this, I only use Google Docs), mark the spot for review to return to it later. If you're one of those frighteningly powerful people who write stories by hand, highlight it and paste what you want to go there over it once you're ready. If you aren't familiar with this infuriating part of writing, you're a lucky bastard and I envy you immensely.

If you have writer's block, there are 8 potential strategies (that I can provide) you can use to alleviate it.

These are NOT surefire fixes for writer's block and are EXTREMELY subjective and results will vary from person to person, but they can potentially help you.

Read a book. Sometimes reading how another author writes (dialogue, scenery, figurative language, etc.) can help you get a better grasp of what you want to write, and how you want to write it. You might even get inspired to make a different story, which bleeds into the next point.

Work on/start a different story. (This isn't always the best way to get out of writer's block, so if you can't get a word down, this probably won't help.) Sometimes changing what you're working on can free up the ink clogged in your pen, for lack of a better phrase, and give you an, "aha!" moment.

Eat and drink something. Brains don't work when they don't have fuel, so feed your machine. Frequent maintenance keeps an engine running smooth, so occasionally get a snack and make sure to keep hydrated.

Take a walk and get some fresh air, and touch some grass for the love of god. Jokes aside, getting your body moving can excite your brain into working and clear some brain fog, since exercise gives your brain a dose of serotonin. As silly as it sounds, sitting in the sun and touching some grass can actually make you feel nice and rejuvenated, it helps me a lot. Even if you don't go outside, moving around is a good way to give your brain a break.

Talk to a friend and get their input. Their ideas can get you through a tough spot and inspire you to get writing again.

Look at pretty pictures and distract yourself from what you're doing. I have pictures of art pieces and doodles I like hanging in front of the desk where I write, and losing myself in pretty stuff helps me work through what I'm struggling with.

Jot down notes by hand on what you're trying to do. Planning things out on pen and paper, despite being tedious, imprints information in your mind and can be useful to your writing needs

If you're writing a fanfiction, look at the source material. Chances are, there's something there that could help you along.

If you don't have the motivation to write anything, don't.

This isn't the best advice for someone who's on a time limit, but works wonders for passion projects and fun stories. Very few do their best work when they force themselves to do it. Besides, there's no point in having a hobby if you don't get joy out of it and overly stress over it.

Writing someone else's character? No problemo, here's some fanfic help:

Always look at the source material, and don't be shy to explore new territory with the character.

It's important to stay true to the personality of a character when you're writing someone else's creation, but don't be afraid to throw in some headcanons and artistic flair. Remember, there's a difference between writing a character unrealistically (pertaining to personality, likes, interests, and universe/world/time period) and changing the circumstances of the original story. Characters are people too, and people react differently to the same thing depending on the world around them. A character may not have [x] trait if [y] event never happened, likewise [y] event never would have happened if this character didn't have [x] trait. Take into consideration the people around the character, as well, as they can also affect what the character does and how they develop. Change up small events in the original source material's story to get a different story and a different reaction out of the character. Experiment, and have fun! It's your story, write it your way!

That's all the advice I have for now, and I hope I was helpful! :)))