#but i wanted to write before i stopped myself and felt ashamed at the effort

[tcrmommabear]

TCR B-Day Bash Day #1: Music

THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN, THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOOOWWWNNNN

No I will not speak about why I’ve been gone so long, or why this is the first thing I come back with outside of memes. I hope this prompts a giggle folks, as that was the whole basis I had for writing this as fast as I could.

@catsafarithewriter​ when you awaken my love, I hope this meets all your dreams and expectations

***

Someone was playing the piano.

And while beautiful, and normally not a problem, it was three in the morning on a Tuesday night. Still, Haru wasn���t one to judge a person’s coping mechanism, considering she was also awake and frantically baking out some complicated feelings herself. It wasn’t every day that a three year relationship ended.

She’d been hoping by the third batch of cookies, she’d be feeling a little more stable, but that was two more cookie dozens, an apple strudel, and a batch of blueberry muffins ago. She’d at least stopped crying, and Hiromi had stopped messaging at midnight when all Haru sent back was a picture of the messy kitchen and the fourth batch of cookies still being mixed.

She had thought her and Machida were doing better. At least “talk out our feelings before you storm off into the night” better. But apparently better really meant “I recognize we’re both feeling awful in this relationship and I think I need some space” and with that said, Machida disappeared into the night, and wasn’t answering any texts or calls.

The piano was still going, as she nibbled on a muffin on the kitchen floor, doodling mustaches on pictures of Machida. She had recognized brief scraps of songs here and there, but nothing she paid much attention too. She felt a small amount of camaraderie with the late night piano player, both causing trouble for their unfortunate neighbors. Haru at least had some bribes to get out of trouble.

The music lulled for a second, as it always did, before the next song began.

A familiar, soft note played out.

Haru dropped the muffin she was eating, bolting out her front door, down the hall, scrambling up the stairs, and to the apartment above hers.

She didn’t have time to knock, the piano player’s front door flying open as she raced down the hall. She managed to think a brief, “Oh shoot, he’s cute”, before her feet slipped. She rammed into him, both sprawling on the floor of his apartment.

“Are you alright-?!”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry-!”

They both paused in sitting up, tangled together for a moment as their eyes met. Haru recognized him, briefly, having seen him around the building a few times. She’d never been able to get a good look of him up close, but had known in an offhanded way he was polite and attractive. And on the verge of a likely breakup, it was a dangerous thing to fully experience now.

His eyes were very green.

He clears his throat, resting a hand on Haru’s shoulder and meeting her eyes with those very green ones. Her heart flutters, but just barely catches the dishevelled look to him, to the faint tear tracks on his cheeks.

“I’m so deeply sorry, are you alright Miss?” he asked, reaching to check her over.

She releases a shuddering breath, and scoots away from him. She needs air, and space, and maybe not to have a traitorous, broken heart.

“I’m fine! Please, my fault for going high speed,” she chuckles. She pats his shoulder, lingering a moment longer than she should.

He seems to appreciate the gesture, his own hand coming up to cover hers and lighting a fire from her fingers to her heart. She sees the extent of how rough he is, the misbuttoned sleeping shirt, the bloodshot eyes, and the (obvious) lack of sleep.

“Um,” she begins, unable to look away, “why uh… Why “Welcome to the Black Parade” this late at night?”

He snorts, “Is that what upset you?”

“Well, no, I didn’t care, I just recognized the song and know the usual, emo context.”

He snorts again, shaking his head, before releasing her hand. She doesn’t have long to mourn the loss, because he’s standing and offering it to her again, helping her stand. She risks a glance around the apartment, but finds nothing too interesting besides the piano just barely in sight around the corner.

“I suppose I was grappling with some difficult feelings tonight. I just started playing, and it wasn’t until I heard you running that I realized how late it was,” he says. He turns towards her, a sheepish smile in place. She likes his smile, she realizes.

Her heart had done a painful squeeze at the mention of difficult feelings, and she reaches out to touch his hand. It’s forward, and odd of her, but no good decisions were made after a night of breakups and baking. He doesn’t seem to mind, after all, and Haru takes that in stride.

“I know a thing or two about “difficult feelings” myself. Tonights been… Awful, and all I’ve done is cry and bake. Wish I had some piano skills to help with my feelings.”

He smiles again, putting a hand on Haru’s shoulder. She returns his earlier gesture, covering his hand with her own. They smile at each other, camaraderie in late night disappointments.

“My name is Haru, by the way. I live in the unit below you, and I have about 50 cookies I need help with. Would you like to join me?”

Her neighbor gives a big smile, bringing her hand up as he bows towards it.

“My friends call me Baron, as we are sure to be after tonight. As for those cookies, I’d be more than happy to help.”

Haru leads him down the stairs to her own apartment, and the pair sit together on her kitchen floor, munching away. It’s not until they’ve torn through a dozen between them, that Haru finally thinks to ask-

“What were you playing before Black Parade? Who broke your heart that badly?”

“Ah, Broadway. I was playing some songs from Phantom of the Opera,” he says into another cookie.

“It’s not everyday the longest running show ends, and it was enough to move me to tears.”

Haru throws a cookie at him before she can stop herself.

[ghost-proofbaby]

ghost!!! i am sobbing weeping crying omg twenty four hours is coming to an end and it is so very bittersweet. i found 24hrs on ao3 and stayed up until three am binging it, then immediately went and followed you on tumblr, and ive been keeping track of it ever since. im not very good a tumblr since i only started using the app for fanfic last october, and i am one of those people that sometimes is ashamed of being a fangirl, so it’s almost unbelievable to me that i have a space where no one will know it’s me and i can enjoy whatever i want. im still trying to adjust to that, tell myself that it’s okay to repost fanfics and that this is a safe space. but twenty four hours has helped me with a LOT of that. before i used to kinda be ashamed to go on tumblr, but now i scroll it daily bcs i didn’t want to miss any updates on the fic. i also made the plunge and officially got an ao3 account, after oh about, seven or eight years of reading fan fiction practically non stop. so im getting there, and i just wanted you to know that twenty four hours helped me to get there.

and i think the main reason that twenty four hours has helped me get there is because of the quality of your writing. you write beautifully, intricately, and most of all—truthfully. ive never read an x reader that has felt so real, so fleshed out and most of all, relatable. i would find myself having internal monologue as i read from the ‘reader’s’ perspective and then the next paragraph would, sometimes word for word, have ‘reader’ think what i was thinking. this fic was also so healing, in a way. the way you used literary devices to describe such complicated situations had me often feeling relieved—like i had just let something go. as someone with a lot of baggage right now and who has a hard time believing they could ever be loved, it was at the very least comforting to have my insecurities and my negative qualities forgiven and proven untrue through ‘reader’ if that makes sense.

ik this is sappy as hell but i genuinely feel this way. your writing has moved me in a way that actual published books haven’t done for me in a while. so i just want to thank you for the time, effort, and thought that went into this fic. and secondly, i want to suggest the idea of adapting this into a novel to be published or a screenplay for a movie, in case no one has mentioned that to you or you haven’t thought of it. i really believe you have something good here, and with your talent, i could see you being very successful. this story of these two people—who both have internal wounds inflicted on themselves, each other, or from the past—who then grow more self aware and choose to be honest, even when it’s hard, is such a rare thing to see in literature or any kind of art. and i think the world needs more of that. bcs, like i said, this fic was more than just a fic to me. it touched me deeply. i cried, i laughed, and i reflected my own self. in short, it was a journey in more ways than one.

so thank you—for your art, for ‘reader’, and for eddie. i can’t wait for the epilogue and to read whatever stories you may have planned for the future.

<3

(ps so sorry to have word vomited in your ask box.)

first and foremost — never apologize for word vomit in my ask box. i am always a-okay with that. 🖤

i don’t even know what to say. i have this terrible habit of putting a lot more of myself than i care to admit into both my readers and my ocs, and most of the time, it’s not the good parts. usually, it’s the absolute worst parts of myself. i take all the rot inside, and i throw it into these projections, and i try to justify how someone with those qualities would still be deserving of love. it’s always been a coping mechanism. always. and then i’ve always strived to be a better writer, make my words worth reading, because i know how much of myself i’ve put into it.

to know other people see themselves in reader or eddie or any character i write is both so strangely hopeful but also so saddening, and it just makes me want to give you the biggest hug 🫂

on the note of publishing, i have definitely considered it. it’s just a really scary journey to decide to take. but the day i do decide to take the plunge, whether with this story or any other i’ve written or any entirely new one, you all will be the first to know 🖤🖤🖤

thank you so so much for reading, for letting my writing touch your soul the way it has. i am so honored that this fic has had this type of affect on you. this message genuinely made me cry. i am sending you all the love. <3

[borderlineangeldisorder]

So catching up with my mental health has also encouraged me to catch up on my physical health. Which in return continues to boost said mental health.

I have borderline personality disorder along with other acronyms such as Adhd Cptsd Ocd Anarexia along with fibromyalgia and the subdivisions of disorders that accompany them ; anxiety depression chronic pain fatigue and a whole other list.

This past year ive gone through more traumatic events due to loving someone who didnt deserve the olive branches they kept burning. But i have learned and i will always be coping with them all.

The happy part is me making the effort to change and Not want to rot away in my room anymore just indulging myself in the pain and misery. Because it loved company and ive been a partner since i turned double digits.

Lack of education from my family even friends our shared ignorance did fuel some of the fires i lit. Like i said ignorance to everything with sex drugs love even what healthy relationships look like due to a history of ignorance and misinformation from my family line; generational curses theyre also known as. Which is for my case so true and it hurts looking back at all i wasnt told about. Especially the warning signs "red flags" to know about. I did not know.

Me being the lover girl i am i did learn the hard way. I became aware of what abuse actually is do to an off chance flier i found at a doctors office. Something in my heart and soul cried out to sneak it home and bury it where my abuser (at the time i wasnt aware that was even the word for them) couldnt find it.

I still remember the way i felt Hope tear up in my eye when i read through the simple 3 page flier. That it confirmed i wasnt crazy like my abuser claimed. That they were hurting me and causing my own mind to be damaged. I learned abuse isnt just being hit ; i learned it was also financially and sexually possible thanks to the words on those pages

There was a checklist going into detail about all those different forms of abuse and when i gained the courage to check off the box it opened my eyes to the truth; that the man who claimed to love me would kill me. Immediately i pushed that realization away repressed it with all the abuse i knew for the past 4 years. It took me another year to finally kick him out and that only worked because i lived with my own parents.

Even still it took me another 4 months and him abducting me holding me against my will to go to the police; nd thats because my parents forced me. I was humiliated and ashamed of loving such a man Of him attacking me abusing me using me and forcing me to do things im still ashamed to admit even here. Ive been in and out of therapy on and off medication for yearssssss and just this past 6 months after processing another traumatic relationship did i wake up one day and pray for strength feeling ashamed the entire time.

I decided to start and write again Even if it was a simple This is what ive done today. Even if it was a single sentence. I wanted to do it for me to get my pent up emotions out before me. I dont reread what i write and i stopped trying to be aesthetic or neat i simple put the pen to paper and let flow whatever comes. It has helped lift the weight of my trauma and loosen the grip ugly thoughts have taken hold of me.

Every day i have to make the choice to not rot and to do something anything. I used to feel this pressure (still do but not to suffocating) that i just had to have everything "together" before i could even enjoy anything at all. Ive learned even doing one thing will encourage my mentality to find one more thing to accomplish.

So far after the past few months (yes months its the most important to force myself still most days but it does get easier and more habitual) of truly trying and putting myself out there Out of my bed ive accomplished

A healthier relationship with food and eating habits

Self care such as simply trimming and filing my nails It encourages me not to rip them apart with my teeth

Showering and bathing more regularly (bubble baths are fun!)

Brushing my hair each morning which is turning into each evening before bed

Brushing my teeth in the morning and before bed which honestly was hard for me to implement because i just want to go to bed

Facial hygiene such as actually removing my makeup before bed and then continuing on to wash my face; this has evolved into applying moisturizer to my face after washing; which has helped encourage me to do am skin care as more moisturizer and sometimes a syrum (i only use one for my pores its a niacinamide syrum and does help me even if its placebo i enjoy it so i dont care) And sunscreen but i do it on sunny days or high iv days (a bit ocd as i have a fear of my face drying and falling off Like trench foot but for dry skin: which i also struggle with) Its become a way to self sooth and helps keep the thoughts at bay that i wont die from the sun)

Speaking of sun i started just simply sitting out in the morning and getting the natural vitamin D only the sun can provide My aim isnt to tan but to help those levels as it does affect my mental health like countless others suffering from SAD. It feels good and i like to cloud watch

Trying to limit my screen time Honestly of course this is Not easy I dont have many friends aside from my sisters who i dont really get to see ; ive deleted netflix hulu I do scroll tiktok but give myself a limit of an hour before bed or its 2am before i can stop myself

Reading reading reading I have the same books for years and still i enjoy the stories It also stimulates my mind my imagination and keeps me off my phone

Listening to music without headphones It helps me stay in the moment and encourages me to clean instead of sitting down and getting sucked into my maldaptive daydreaming Which i did use for years as an escape from my own issues and ignore the reality of what needed to be done Its much more fun to dance around and sing along as i clean or blog here

It seems like a lot and maybe it is But making the decision to change and then actually taking the first move to change myself caused this domino affect of self love self care and continuing on to another change in my life.

Every day theres still the choice i have to make on whether i do something or dont. Some days are harder than others and its extremely important to trust yourself your body and learn the signs on if todays the day to dance around doing the housekeeping or pick up a book and enjoy the sun. Its better to keep it slow and trust yourself instead of accidentally burning yourself out which is discouraging. Im still learning and still lack in other areas I am mentally and Physically chronically ill. I have issues im still working out and it isnt easy

But it is possible and its true when the void says Its up to You. Only You can makr the decision between getting up or staying down. Noone is the same and every one has their own desires dreams goal which is what makes this world beautiful and different and fun between the messes and chaos.

You Can do it even if it feels like you cant

[a-erea]

On seeing my parents again

I was finally able to take my paid vacation and decided I wanted to see my parents and get some art supplies while at it cuz they're better quality and less expensive over here. I had seen my parents briefly before but I was always in a rush and generally not feeling great and idk... I just felt ashamed of the mess I was and still am I guess. My parents are sweet af they just want to be a part of my life again but I couldn't stop feeling the pile of shit emotions pent up and having them near me just triggered old wounds, specially if my sisters were around as well. But I feel so different now... I just feel more capable, more grown, stronger...I've pulled myself out of really scary suicidal thoughts and I've let myself feel the pain, I don't want to fight anymore. Surrendering feels good. Sweet sweet release. I know I still have a long way to go. But now I know more. Dare I say I'm wiser ? .... I hope so....

I spent a whole day with my dad and not once did it feel weird! haha. I didn't think I would get to have a good relationship with him for the longest time. We fell out since I was 13-14, and before then he wasn't really present, so as I grew older he just felt like a stranger that gave me money. I wonder how much I've hurt him. He was so happy we got to spend time together. I felt so much love for him . He's very kind and giving. He's THE MAN ! He had to endure so many challenges so many things kids shouldn't go through and yet he's so sweet. I used to only remember his anger, I know he like me had to suppress it and he had to release it... my sister and my mom took most of it. It was scary at times. But everything changes for the better, no storm will last forever... God loves u and will reward u as long as u let him in ur heart.

Mom is just insane. I mean it in the best of ways lol. It is so crazy how much faith a woman can have. She's so devoted, and I've realized this is the best gift she could pass on to me. Even if our spiritual views may seem irreconcilable they're really not, and she's a lot more respectful about it than before. We saw that crazy movie about the Chinese woman that hopped to different universes and she liked it! Didn't say anything about the lesbians lol She made fish tacos and they were *chef's kiss* the best. I admire how much effort and love she puts into everything, the food, the house, she even started writing her own prayers! isn't that cool?

In conclusion, it was a good effing extended weekend, I think Ive finally made peace with the "humaneness" of my parents and my baggage lost about a ton of weight. I feel readierr I feel its time to keep moving forward...

[omissilem]

birth pangs of a creative

I've always longed to write music.

I don't know when it started,

but I remember as a teenager,

I would hand copy hymns, and draw the staff with a ruler, perfecting the curves of the clefs. It led to teaching myself how to use music notation software to digitize various hymns and exercises I used at church. (We used Encore back then.)

I remember clearly when I showed my band teacher one of my scrawled scores.

I said, "Look Mr. Wall, I think I wrote a song,"

sounding unsure as I trailed off by the end of the sentence. It was a lie, and I couldn't speak it. I had copied one of my favorite hymns at that time.

Mr. Wall stopped to listen as I played it out at the piano. I was so satisfied to be able to play from the map I had carefully scribed.

I shakingly beamed, waiting for his feedback.

"Uhm...this is an old protestant song, I know this song!" He said firmly.

My insides dropped. My fabricated sense of accomplishment faded, and I felt ashamed. The very first time I wanted to share my passion for writing music, I shared a lie and got caught!

Cheeks hot, I stammered, "I guess I heard it before and transcribed it from memory, heh."

I never showed anything I had written (or copied) to anyone after that.

Year after year, I would sit at the piano and try to compose, learning how to talk my feelings out with the keys.

Undisciplined and lacking knowledge, I wasn't able to transcribe any of the musical ideas that would come out.

Year after year, I kept on, trying to write at least one song.

I bought MIDI keyboards, tested software, made countless recordings and free writes. I even took a college MIDI production/composition course, eventually dropping out. I literally couldn't do my homework, or labwork. I would sit at the workstation in lab, picking out notes, and not understanding how to put them together.

I would hear my classmates singing into their mics, and laying down their tracks. I listened as they played back their licks, seeing them smile and take pleasure in each step of the process.

I was disheartened, wondering why I could not create anything when I knew I had a strong musical talent. I knew the theory, I was a capable performer. Yet, I was utterly useless when it came to creating new music.

Normally people realize after so many years of failure, that they want to put their effort to something more worthwhile.

Not me, of course.

I bought journals, and staff-lined notebooks, filled them up with lyrics without melodies, and enough books to fill a bookshelf. I poured over literature on composing. I still couldn't make a single song. I practiced, recorded, tried collaboration, tried solitude. I bought gear. I thought that if I get this or upgrade that, I could make music. I would add one thing after another, curating a myriad of MIDI keyboards, pricey headphones, and numerous apps to help me.

I still can't let go of this one thing. I've developed a complex over it, worked on it, and still. I won't give up. I can't give up.

I can't buy any more gear though, I can't add any more onto myself,

except for an absolute commitment to discipline my work ethic when creating.

It's late, I forgot what I wanted to say.

I meant to say my need to produce that one song is like a late pregnancy. I'm full of this thing inside me, it is alive, and I'm bursting. My back is tired, all my resources are feeding it, and I'm turning inside out to finally see it come into the world.

I imagine it feels like Bella from Twilight looked right before she all but died before giving birth to her child.

Can anyone relate? Or is it my own personal insanity?

I'll keep going until I can no longer.

[diaperedautistic]

finding diapers as a continent/semicontinent autistic

(This essay is not in Plain Language. Please tell me if you want a Plain Language version and I will write one.)

I was slow to toilet train: I routinely came home wet from kindergarten and was still wetting myself occasionally in third grade and later. This was mostly an executive function problem; I usually knew I had to pee, but didn't have the executive function to stop whatever I was doing to use the bathroom.

I didn't get much in the way of help for this: I was kicked out of diapers before entering kindergarten. In kindergarten and first grade, I was 'on a schedule', which meant staff would pull me out of class to take me to use the bathroom periodically, hopefully before I'd wet myself. As early as kindergarten, my parents yelled at me for wetting myself, and past first grade, yelling was all the help I got. No one suggested diapers as a way to avoid the shame and humiliation of accidents; it was apparently better for a third-grader to wet herself in front of her classmates than for her to wear diapers.

Eventually, like some autistics, I 'grew out' of it: I learned to absorb the executive function cost of interrupting myself to go pee, or the pain of holding it because I didn't want to interrupt myself, and I stopped wetting myself.

At some level, though, I always understood that diapers were something I needed: when I hit puberty, they became a fetish object; when I transitioned in my late twenties, they shifted to a non-sexual emotional comfort, and I started wearing them more often. As I worked through some of my childhood trauma in therapy, they shifted again, to a radical way of 'rewriting the story' for my younger self who'd needed them, and I started wearing them full-time.

(I want to stop here and acknowledge that I was privileged to be able to make this change in my life: I can afford to live by myself to avoid judgmental family or housemates, and I can afford to buy disposable diapers out of pocket. Many people can't, and I'd love to see diapers as a voluntary adaptation for autistics destigmatized and covered by insurance.)

Once I was wearing diapers full-time, something magical happened: my brain settled back into those same patterns from elementary school, using my diaper when I'm hyperfocused and using the toilet when I'm not. I find focused tasks easier and less stressful, since I don't have to interrupt myself to go use the bathroom in the moment or cope with the ongoing sensory and executive function cost of feeling and knowing that I have to go to the bathroom eventually. I don't worry about burning something on the stove, forgetting important context while programming, or losing the plot of a movie or TV show I wanted to watch. I can get what I wanted to get done more easily, and have more energy and cope left for other things.

Despite the obvious benefits, I still felt ashamed when I found myself wet after a period of hyperfocus; I wasn't 'supposed' to wet myself, and I wasn't 'supposed' to wear diapers.

A couple weeks ago, as part of a larger effort to find better accommodations for myself, I found @endeverstar's wonderful article "Finding AAC as a verbal/semiverbal autistic". It talks about how xe found speaking with mouth words difficult and stressful but was nonetheless forced into a bunch of speech therapy as a kid so xe could be considered "speaking"; nobody offered xem AAC as a kid because xe didn't 'need' it and it was stigmatized. Xe discovered AAC as an adult, quickly realized it was easier and less stressful than mouth words, and is at this point mostly-nonspeaking.

This was me, toilet training, and diapers. Everything suddenly made sense.

I found toileting without diapers as a backup difficult and stressful, but was nonetheless forced to so I could be considered "toilet trained"; nobody offered me diapers as a kid past the 'normal' age because I didn't 'need' them and they were stigmatized. I rediscovered diapers as an adult, realized they were easier and less stressful, and decided to wear them all the time.

Overnight, that last whiff of shame disappeared. Diapers aren't just a fetish object, an emotional comfort, or a way of 'rewriting' my trauma. Diapers are a valid adaptive choice for autistics, even those who are technically capable of always using the toilet!

So, to paraphrase endever*: if you're a continent or mostly-continent autistic person and you're wondering whether diapers might be useful for you -- consider this your permission slip! You're allowed to try them if you think they might help, and you're allowed to keep using them if you find them helpful. Toileting works for abled people, but isn't inherently superior; don't listen to anyone who says you're 'not allowed' to use diapers unless you 'need' them or that you should force yourself to always use the toilet if that doesn't work for you.

Everyone deserves access to the full range of communication methods that work for them, and likewise everyone deserves access to the full range of toileting strategies that work for them.

[lo-frequency]

Hi I love your blogand your writinh so much it's so good!

Could I request a shoto/denki and toga x chubby reader (if you're not comfortable writing with toga you can just to denki and shoto) thanks!

Fortunately for you, anon, I did them all! (and it's kinda long, so my bad lol) Also, there's mention of insecurity in Toga's, but it quickly turns to fluff. As always, please enjoy!

Denki

-Believe it or not, Denki was nervous to confess to you because he was afraid of being rejected. You’re so cute and cool and that he was sure there’s no way you actually returned his feelings. It was worth a shot, tho. So imagine his joy when you said you felt the same way :)

-Rants about you all the time to his friends, to the point where they feel like they know you personally before you’ve even met. They also get to hear all the tmi stories about what the two of you do alone, because he can’t help himself (if they don’t walk away first, lol).

-He knew you looked squishy before, but couldn’t believe how soft your skin was when he finally got to hold you. It was almost unfair. He often finds himself caressing your skin mindlessly whenever you’re close together, hand always ghosting across your arm or hand (or your thigh ;) ).

-Lays back on you to play video games, his head cushioned by your pillowy chest and the rest of his body situated between your legs as you watch him play. Play in his hair or rub his arms and he will fall asleep. The tingly feeling he gets when cuddling with you is his favorite kind of electricity.

-Zaps your butt “by accident”

-Easily flustered, but he tries to play it off with his cool act. Just kiss his cheek or tell him he’s handsome and watch him ramble about knowing he’s “irresistible” until he flushes red up to his ears.

-Denki can be pretty corny at times but he does have his serious moments, mostly when you two are alone together. He shows you what’s beneath his goofy facade, a boy with dreams and aspirations just like everyone else. After seeing this side of him, it’s a little irritating to hear people reduce him to an idiot (although he does have his moments 💀)

-Them thighs tho 😏 “Dang babe, you been working out?” “Not really, Kaminari” He clucks his tongue. “Sheesh, imagine being that thicc...naturally” he says, shaking his head as if it were a shame.

-Truly believes he has the best s/o in the whole school. Does not take offense to being called a simp 🤷🏾‍♀️.

-Wasn’t aware of it at first, but became super attracted to people with your same body type. His eyes always lingered on them in public, and he couldn’t help but think they were kinda hot (sorry, y/n)

-Very affectionate, but loves to receive as much as give, so please give this man plenty of kithes and hugs, he gets the shakes if he doesn’t get his daily dose of Y/n love.

-Y’all are so silly together, always cracking jokes or giggling about something. You eventually develop a similar sense of humor, and have so many inside jokes people can’t decipher your conversation. If anybody has anything negative to say about y’all: Denki puts his hand over his earpiece and says to you (from right next to him) “Pikachu to Big Sexy, I’m picking up some negative vibes on the radar, do you copy?” And you, holding your hand up to your own ear, say “Affirmative, doing a diagnostic scan...it’s a hater, confirmed.” Cue the obnoxious laughter, lmaoo

-Never forgets the anniversaries or relationship milestones. He even remembers the date of yall’s first kiss, and thinks about it every time the date passes (although he wouldn’t tell you that tho, that would be too sappy, even for him).

Shoto

-The way you and Shoto became acquainted was a little unorthodox. You fell on him during a training session one day, and the feeling of your soft body pressed against his was a new experience for him, to put it mildly. Shoto stood up from it a changed man. Call it an awakening, if you will.

-You were a little put off by all his staring since that incident, thinking he didn’t like you despite all your profuse apologies. But after Izuku dropped hints that it was probably fascination rather than contempt, your relationship progressed smoothly from there (thanks mostly to your efforts, since Shoto had no clue how to approach you).

-Shoto still had a staring problem once y’all became official, too. Whenever you asked him what he was looking at, he was not ashamed to tell you exactly why: you are too fine not to stare (ok, maybe he didn’t say it exactly like that)

-Not overly affectionate in public, but has a tendency to always stand or sit close to you whenever he can. Just sharing the same space is intimate to him.

-Sharing a bowl of soba noodles 💕

-Buys you expensive gifts all the time, and loves to see you using them. Especially if it’s clothes, it’s like a piece of him is always with you even when you’re not together (plus, it shows you’re all his ;) ).

-Now, I’m gonna tell y’all a little secret. It’s pretty shocking, so be warned: Shoto sometimes pretends to be oblivious when you hint at wanting affection, just to make you beg for it. Maybe you brush your hand against his, and he moves it. Or maybe he saw you lean for a kiss and he casually turns the other way just to hear you complain. He likes it, makes him feel wanted.

-Devious, I know, but just get even 😏

-When y’all are alone, he loves when you hold him close and just sit there, peacefully enjoying each other’s presence. He also likes to lay on your lap while reading a book or watching tv with you, slowly nodding off as you comb your fingers through his hair.

-Obsessed with you, but not in an unhealthy way, it’s just that you’ve become such a big part of his life that he kinda...thinks about you all the time. Shoto is canonically not very talkative, but I think that with you, he’d open up more about his true thoughts and feelings. So when he shoots you that blank stare when his classmates are up to some bull, you know exactly what it means.

-Also revels in knowing you that well, too. He’d flex how much he knows about you to the other people and sometimes unintentionally embarrasses you in the process

-For example: “Here Y/n, a cherry popsicle just for you!” Shoto immediately hands you some napkins before adding “Y/n doesn’t usually eat cherry popsicles, they always drop the red juice on their clothes.” Like gee, good looking out Shoto...thanks for telling the whole class I can’t eat without messing up my clothes 💀. He’s sweet tho, he has good intentions.

Toga

-She made it very clear from the beginning that she liked you, and with how smitten she was, who were you to refuse her (aggressive) advances?

- She thought your plump figure was just so cute, one of the cutest things she’d ever seen, and she quickly developed an unhealthy obsession with squeezing your chub.

-When you two are together, Toga is always attached to you in some way, whether she’s hanging off your arm or has her arms looped around your shoulders.

-Starts to eat the same foods you eat, borrow your clothes all the time, listen to your favorite artists, whatever way she could become closer to you

-Writes you love letters or sends you cute text messages all the time, you’re always on her mind, even when she’s on missions. “My Y/n is wayy cuter than you! Let’s get this over quick so I go back to them, ok? 🥰 🔪🔪”

-I know y’all were waiting for this...she most definitely uses her quirk on you. Toga loves you so much, she wants to become you. So one day, you finally allow her to give it a try.

-She tells you to close your eyes, and when she gives you permission to open them, you find yourself staring...yourself in the face. And you do not like it 🤢. There’s something so strange about seeing yourself in 3rd person, in all dimensions. Is this how you look to her, all the time? You quickly lose interest in this little charade, looking everywhere but at yourself as Toga prances around doing sexy poses in your body and giggling. However, when she sees your reaction, she stops.

- “Hm? What’s wrong, Y/n?” she asks with a tilt of (your) her head. You glance at yourself, then look away again. “This is so weird. I don’t like looking at myself” you say, grimacing at the slight bounce and jiggle of your body when she walks toward you.

-In Toga’s eyes, you were absolutely adorable. In fact, she was getting a little hot and bothered just taking peeks at herself (you) in the mirror. She’s used to feeling you up for sure, but being you was a whole other experience. Though, she can understand your insecurity. After all, it’s hard to live in a world that constantly tells you your true self is abnormal. She knows from experience.

-So, she comes up to you with a flirty grin on her face...and starts showering you with kisses, in your body! You start to protest, weirded out by the feeling of your own lips on your cheeks but she would not relent. Toga was determined to show you what being loved (by you) felt like from her perspective, with your irresistible “imperfections” and all 💕

Thanks for tuning in! :)

[dilftaroooo]

hi! can you please write a nsfw oneshot for dio brando x fem! reader ? to be a little specific; can you add a boss/assistant dynamic & corruption kink? tysm ( ◠‿◠ )❣️

mmm corruption kink. thats absolutely my fav, anon 🤤. i'll be more than happy to write it for you. enjoy!

(business office au)

you gotta earn it. (boss!dio x secretary!reader)

word count: //1.7k+//

synopsis: you want that raise? then show mr.brando what it is you're willing to give up to him. it's only fair.

tw/tags: dubcon, nipple play, corruption kink, size difference (not heavily mentioned though), business attire, afab reader, cute virgin reader.

"No."

Those words left you speechless; stiff in your spot as you looked into piercing, yellow, eyes. He said it in such a nonchalant manner, you don't think he even took a double take on your question. You spent so much effort to muster up the courage to ask your boss the question that you dread to be answered - but not in this way. He must have made a mistake.

"'No'...?" You echoed.

Dio leaned back in his seat, eye contact never faltering as he crossed his legs, burgundy colored dress pants ruffled at the movement. He tilted his head in a mocking manner as one well groomed eyebrow raised upwards.

"Oh dear. Perhaps my beloved secretary has gone deaf? I shall repeat myself once more: 'No' meaning, 'No, I will not offer you a raise.'"

Your fist clenched as you try to fight back the tears of humiliation and neglect. Why? Why did he refuse you? You worked so hard for him and you knew he knew that. So why won't he give you this raise? Leave it to Dio to crumble up your acts of valor and throw them into a fiery pit.

Trying to regain your composure, you speak up,

"But, sir, Why? I've done so much for you these past couple years; schedule your meetings, review your records and documents, compose orientations for newcomers. I even make sure to make your coffee each morning - a long black with two shots of expresso."

Your eyes were becoming wet. You were on brink of breaking down and crying right in front of your boss. You don't even think he was the slightest bit convinced by your retort. All he did was observe you with a wicked smirk plastered on his face. There was no change in his features but, reluctantly, you resume.

"Please, Mr.Brando. Please give me this raise. I-I'll try to do better for you! Just tell me what it is I need to do. Please, I'll do anything, Mr.Brando."

Dio stiffened. It was that keyword that gained his attention: 'anything'.

"'Anything', you say?" You nod and a flash of his white teeth glimmered from the building's colorless light on the ceiling. His chuckle was deep. "Think before spouting careless words such as that, my little mouse." The small squeak emerges from his office chair as he gets up, approaching your meek figure and you cower at his nearness. His fingers gently grasped your hair and you notice how well kept they were - manicured with a clear polish and decorated with gold rings. You didn't miss the Rolex watch wrapped around his wrist.

"Such pretty hair," He lightly plays with your mane before tightening his grip and hoisting your head up, forcing you to look directly at him. "You don't mind if I tug on it do you, love?" He adores the wince you let out, eyes scrunched close with pain.

"Ouch! Mr.Brando, Please stop-"

"Oh but you said you would do anything for me, remember? So I'm allowed to use you however I please. You want a raise, don't you?" Your face burns when his lips feather against the skin of your cheek. You heave out a low sigh at his deed. Dio deliberately consumes your reaction - savoring it like the smoothest red wine.

"Have you ever been fucked before, dear?" The amorous question made you whine. This was just too dirty. You shake your head for an answer.

"N-No, sir."

"Really? You've never been touched before? No one has ever pounded that filthy, little, pussy of yours? Tsk, tsk, tsk - What a shame. Looks like I have to change that." He lets go of your scalp but your head never moves, eyes still on his frame as you process his words.

"Wait, Mr.Brando, please. I've never- oh!" You were put to an abrupt stop when he picked you up from under your arms and legs before setting you down on his desk. It messy with scattered documents he found frivolous and purposeless, there were much more important matters at hand.

Tearing off your white dress shirt and bra in a blink of an eye, he gave your mounds a carnivorous stare, gulping at your nipples swell at his glance. He wasted no time kneading them. You let out a moan from his heated touch. It was foreign to you.

"What a lewd sound you made just now, Y/n. You like this, right? I barely even started." His fingers teased your stiff buds, pinching and pulling at them.

"Ngh- No, Mr.Brando..."

His touches were blunt and straightforward, they were rough as he assailed your fragile body. He was fervent to take it to the next step. He lifts your legs up to take off your pencil skirt.

He lets out a delighted sigh beyond seeing your choice of underwear. "Lacy panties? Was my little mouse expecting this? Getting all dressed up for your boss. You're such a nasty fucking girl."

"That's not true! I was in a rush to-"

"Excuses, excuses. That's all I hear from you. Shut up and take your panties off. I want to see how wet your cunt is." You obeyed under his stern tone - slowly stripping off your red-laced panties. You still had your legs closed, ashamed to show him your untouched flower but Dio pried them open by your knees. Your heady scent instantly fills his nose and he takes this time to observe your pussy, you were soaked - vagina pulsating, waiting for anything to be plunged inside, trimmed hairs placed on your pubic area, clit swollen with excitement. It was remarkable.

"Look at you, throbbing so greedily." He puts two thickset fingers in your sopping pussy without warning." An invevitable moan escaped your lips when he applied pressure to your g-spot.

"M-Mr.Brando - mmmm - that spot, you're hitting that-"

"Quiet, little mouse. As much as I love to hear you scream did you forget the setting we're in right now? I hate the idea of someone seeing this pretty pussy other than me." You pitch your voice down an octave - not too fond of the idea of being caught by your coworkers (especially by Jonathan).

His digits rapidly thrash inside you, bodily fluids flew everywhere. "You're making such a mess all over me. So sloppy. I have no doubt that this is what my little mouse wanted. Your grip is so firm around me." Your small hand cover your painted lips. You didn't want anyone to hear you but Dio was making it all too hard, he was hitting all of the right spots within you.

Pulling his fingers out, he unzips his flyer and sought out for his cock. His length was huge, you were unsure if you should even continue. His member intimidated you. Dio knew you were on edge, he softly coos at your expression.

"Aw, don't worry, sweetheart. You'll only feel a slight pinch." Aiming his shaft to your entrance, you recoil once he plummets inside of you, tip kissing your womb. What you felt was more than a pinch. it was easily comparable to being stabbed in your nether regions. Tears flowed from your eyes.

"Pull out! Please, it huuurts!" Your cries were ignored as Dio continued slamming into you like no tomorrow. He covered your mouth with his large hand, muffling your wails.

"Ah- You feel that? My cock jabbing at your womb?" His thrust slow down so you can feel every inch of him - veins feeling more prominent than before. "That's how deep I go inside of you. This tiny body of yours can't handle a cock like mine. Ha! And would you look at that, I can even see your stomach bulging from my dick. How filthy."

He traced his fingers along the bulge forming near your abdomen. He rams in you relentlessly. You gripped the sleeves of his business suit, wrinkling them while doing so. Dio was fired up by the calls of his name leaving your lips, making him go at a, almost inhuman, pace.

Vulgar slaps of skin filled the room and you were both close to coming. Dio's hot breaths reached your ear and his thrusts losses its initial tempo.

"You're a few inches away from getting that raise, sweetheart. Just let me fill you with my seed." He bites the crevice of your neck - his teeth were sharp.

"Mr.Brando-! I'm gonna come...Agh- Mr.Brando... D-Dio!" Said man met his high after his name was yelped - relieved to let himself go, his cum spurts deep in your walls. You came shortly after by the feeling of him filling you up. Both of you sigh.

He hoists himself up off of you to put his dick back in his pants and fix his attire. You grimace at the slimy fluids now sticking between your legs. Dio scoffed. "Consider yourself lucky, little mouse. You finally got that raise you so desparately wanted. What's wrong with a little cum in you, hm?"

A bit irritated, you get dressed as well, getting ready to leave his office. But before you can exit, he turns you around to face him, eyebrow lifted in question.

"Leaving now? Have you forgotten what to say?" You assume he wanted some form of gratitude from you for giving you a raise.

"Thank you, Di-

"Hmmm? Did I fuck you so dense you forgot who I am to you?" You blush at his smile.

"T-Thank you, Mr.Brando."

"Good girl. Run along now." He slaps your ass before you leave.

"Dio, why do you smell like sweat? The only thing you do is sign papers and present at meetings." Jonathan frowned at Dio's pungent scent. The man chortled at Jonathan's exasperation. If only he knew what happened behind closed doors.

"Don't worry about it, JoJo. A little boy like you wouldn't understand."

"We're the same age, Dio."

"Oh yeah. You're right. You have such the resemblance of a child that I must've forgotten." Dio teases. The both head to the parking lot of their company to call to it a night. Jonathan clenched his teeth.

"I do not! Just what in the hell were you doing in your office? Working out?"

Dio roared out a large laugh at the word akin to what you and him did earlier today.

"Yeah.. you can call it that."

this fic belongs to @dilftaroooo

[hispipsqueak]

hello I was wondering if I could make a request please? if you're comfortable with it could you write for aizawa x reader where reader is dealing with thoughts of self-harm and confesses this to him and he helps her through it? sorry if this isn't okay, but thank you if you write it

Hello! Thank you so much for this request <3 As a person who dealt a lot with these issues in the past, I definitely enjoyed writing this because it gave me comfort. I think Aizawa would be so big on mental health and I think it is such a good prompt.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I am not a therapist or a mental health professional, and all of this is based on my own experiences, so if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm ideation, please know it does get better and seek out proper mental health resources! <3 This is purely a comfort fic.

TW: self-harm ideation (reader doesn't do it but does consider it), depression, self-blame (reader is pretty mean to themselves), mental health, hurt/fluff, cursing. SERIOUSLY. Do not read this if you feel this would trigger you. Your safety is important.

Another day. Your eyes were bleary and heavy from the night. You went to bed early, but it felt like you hadn’t slept enough. Turning to the door, you heard Shouta call from grabbing his keys and bag before he came in to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Heading out. Love you. Probably staying late tonight, so don’t wait up sweetheart.” You forced a smile back at him.

“Have a good day, Sho. Love you.” All too soon he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your body felt heavy, dragging it out of bed only to go straight to the couch. You were so tired. It had been gnawing on you lately, like a black cloud over you. Shouta worked hard every day, training pro-heroes while dealing with his own hero work and YOU felt tired? It was annoying, you felt annoyed by your own mind, and guilty just for even feeling this way.

It was like you were stuck in a hamster wheel, constantly running and going nowhere and you were too tired to keep running. Days kept coming and you just needed everything to just stop for a moment. Just to let you catch your breath, but the world didn’t stop for you. You had to just toughen up.

Going to the bathroom, you looked in the mirror. You looked like a mess, your eyes hollow and lifeless. Your hair felt dull, and you wanted to avoid looking at yourself any longer. You sat on the tile floor, your back pressed against the door. Tears fell freely from your eyes, and you made no effort to wipe them away.

You just needed a break. A break from everything, a break from life. A break from being a fucking burden.

Time passed, you stayed sitting on the cold floor. Was it hours, minutes? Fuck if you knew. Catching a glimpse of Shouta’s razor left on the sink, your heart raced. You could feel the blood rushing in your ears as you stared down the silver blade.

It wouldn’t make the pain stop, but it would make it real. Fighting an invisible monster was hard, but if you had something to actually cry about, maybe you wouldn’t feel insane.

You were so tired.

You walked back to bed.

----

Shouta walked in, his body sore from being hunched over grading papers. He yawned, tossing his bag on the chair. The lights were off, and he headed to the bedroom, expecting to see you asleep. Instead you were sitting up, knees tucked under your chin, staring at the wall.

“Sweetheart, it’s late. Why are you awake?” Shouta asked, his voice catching when he saw the tear tracks on your cheeks. You sniffled, and your voice was scratchy when you spoke.

“I’m so tired, Sho. I’m sorry, I know you’re tired and I don’t even have the right to be–” You were cut off by his arms wrapped around you. Shouta was warm and somehow, feeling him there grounded you into reality. The dam in you broke and you sobbed, pressing your face into his sweater. His hold on you tightened, and finally catching your breath you pulled away slightly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He spoke first.

“Don’t ever feel like you don’t have the right to feel anything you feel. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Your voice was shaky, and low. “I don’t know. I’m tired. It feels like every day bleeds into the next and I can’t stop and just breathe for a second. I feel like I’m drowning and nobody can see me and I, I don’t know what to do. And I feel so fucking guilty because I can’t JUST not feel this way. I see things that need to be done, I have stuff I want to do and I can’t bring myself to not feel like shit. It feels pathetic and annoying and you do so much for us and all I do is complain….and I just wanted it to end today. God, I just…” your voice trailed off and you were quiet for a moment. When you spoke again your voice was softer, a murmur Shouta had to strain to hear.

“I just wanted to make it stop. If I’m gonna be miserable, I need a reason.” Your voice cracked and you swallowed hard, ashamed.

Shouta reached out for your hand slowly, caressing the soft spot between your thumb and forefinger.

“Y/N, you are the most precious thing to me in this entire world. You are never burdening me, never annoying me, and you never need a ‘reason’ to justify your feelings. Every single day of my life, I choose you, I choose us. I don’t care if you have a million problems, I’m here to help you carry them. And if I can’t do it alone, we’ll work together to figure this out. I need you to talk to me though. Did you hurt yourself?”

You shook your head quickly. Shouta sighed in relief. “Did you think about hurting yourself?”

You nodded, a hiccup escaping from your lips.

He pulled you against him, practically crushing you with his weight, You could hear his heartbeat, reverberating in his chest.

“This, this is the reason we continue. Every day, if you’re dealing with bad feelings, bad thoughts, anything...you get right here. You get in my arms and we’ll get through it. You are not alone.”

Wrapping the blankets around the two of you, Aizawa texted Nezu to let him know he’d be out for the week. He pulled you into his chest, letting you talk your feelings out into the late night.

It wouldn’t be perfect. You would still have bad feelings, and negative thoughts that chipped away at you. But you wouldn’t be alone. It wouldn’t consume you.

You weren’t a burden.

[racheloveyunho]

Till Death do us part - 1

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2486

 TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

Chapter 1

 I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.

---------

 5 years ago.

 "Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.

I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.

"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.

“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.

“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.

I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.

“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.

“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.

 He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.

But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.

My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.

He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.

 “Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.

“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.

“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”

 Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.

Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.

 I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.

My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.

I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.

 8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.

 “Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.

I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.

It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.

A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.

 I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.

I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.

I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.

“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.

 I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.

They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.

“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.

He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.

I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.

When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.

I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.

 I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath.  I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.

“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.

How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?

“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.

I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.

“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.

“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”

He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.

My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.

“You’re welcome”

I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.

He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.

“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.

‘But he is really handsome…’  I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.

His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”

I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.

‘What the fuck?’

“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.

He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.

  I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

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This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!

This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!

[scarecrow-supremacy]

A/N: Oookieee, so I decided to start writing a new fic bc I have great ideas for a story line. Yet I can’t bring myself I writing an actual beginning. Like I’ve already written some random chapters, but I can’t do anything with them because they don’t really make much sense without the context of the rest of the fic/my ideas. Like this chapters is where the romance/actual x reader gets into actual action. Hopefully you get the gist of what the plot is, and aren’t confused as hell from this part. Sorry if it’s a bit long, it’s around 4.8k-ish words. Enjoy 💜

Hatake Kakashi wasn't one to celebrate his birthday.

He simply thought that they were foolish excuses to let loose and party. To Kakashi, birthdays were no reason to be happy and celebrate. They were just reminders of how long he had endured the pain of living. Each year marked another without the people he once held close in his heart. His father, his sensei, his teammates, and (y/n)...

The day that (y/n) gone on that horrible mission was his special day. The mission he was supposed to go on, but (y/n) filled in for because she wanted him to go celebrate with Gai and the others. So much for having the day of joy...Kakashi thought to himself mournfully.

With a great sigh, he grabbed the last of his belonging, shoving them in his mission pack. He'd promised to take his students out of a group mission for the day, but it had been mostly for selfish reasons. Kakashi had hoped that this would take his mind off of the weight in his soul, yet knowing that his efforts would be futile. The loss would never leave him, it would always follow him like a darned shadow. It would forever haunt him. There was not letting go of the horrors of his past.

Slowly, Kakashi strolled to the gates of Konoha to meet his kids, shoving his hands in his pockets as he mumbled a little tune under his breath. The dark cloudy sky and drizzling rain seemed to mirror how he felt inside.

Drip, drop. Drop, drop. Drop, drop.

Each raindrop fell upon the dirt paths of the town, dampening Kakashi's Jonin uniform. If only he'd gone on that mission, if only he hadn't let (y/n) take his place. If only so many things that happened hadn't. If only he felt whole again. He could feel the heavyweight of guilt on his shoulders, spreading pain throughout his body. Sure, Team 7 filled the void, but they could only do so much. If there is one thing I wish for, it is that these kids will grow up to be happy.

A soft smile played upon Kakashi's face as he approached the three teens. "KAKASHI-SENSEI!" His hyperactive blonde student, Uzumaki Naruto, yelled at him, "YOU'RE LATE-TTEBAYO!" He raised his fist in anger. Sakura glared at both Kakashi and Naruto, slapping the boy's back to calm him down. Off to the side stood Sasuke, his hands in his pockets as he briefly kicked the dirt and pebbles around him to form his clan's symbol. "Usuratonkachi," he grumbled at the group. To be honest, Kakashi did feel a little guilty about keeping the kids waiting for him. They were being held back just because he was wallowing in self-pity. And Kakashi felt ashamed of that; ordering his mind to push his thoughts further to the back of his mind.

Kotetsu and Izumo, guards of the gates, turned to the team and smiled in greeting. "The gate opening mechanism is broken, so we have to manually open the gates," they explained. "Heading out yet again, eh?" Kotetsu chuckled. "I thought you lot just came back from a mission. Ya leaving so soon?" Izumo asked. Naruto pumped his hand into the air, "Yeah! Dattebayo! It's only a C rank, but it'll be fun-ttebayo!"

He's a lot like you, eh Obito, Kakashi's mind wandered as he looked up at the clouded sky, a drop of rain fell upon his nose and slid down his mask. If only you, Minato-sensei, and Rin were here to see us in action. You would be proud.

But what about (y/n)? Part of Kakashi was surprised that he didn't think of her immediately. Did he still believe that she could've been alive? After the Hokage had told him that he'd lost contact with (y/n), Kakashi didn't know what to think. It had been 3,650 days since she left. 3,589 since she was supposed to come back. And 3,529 days since they fully lost contact. What were the chances she'd come back, alive or injured? Kakashi wanted to believe that she was still alive. Was that realistic?

"She's gone, Kakashi! You need to understand that!" He flashed back to when Asuma, Gai, and Kurenai had tried to slap some sense into him. Well actually, Kurenai had slapped him. "Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura gently tugged his sleeve, straining her arm up so her red umbrella would also cover his head. "Are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot lately." She whispered as she looked up at him.

"I'm fine, Rin," Kakashi weakly smiled, "It's nothing that you should worry about." Sakura flashed him a questioning look, "Rin?" Sucking the air, Kakashi's whole body tensed up, "Sorry." He looked away, turning his attention to the bickering Sasuke and Naruto. "Just a little mix-up, Sakura." He put on a fake smile, breaking up the boy's fight. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Alright! Shanaroo!"

"Dattebayo!"

Kotetsu and Izumo went to open the gates but stopped to exchange worrisome glances. "Someone just knocked from the other side of the gates. Which is weird because our list says that we shouldn't be expecting anybody." Izumo knit his eyebrows together. Kotetsu, who had been looking through a glass which allowed him to see the incomer, hastily urging Izumo to help him. "ANBU!" He had barked at his partner, "Bleeding! Dying, wounds, whatever! They need medical attention!" That had caught Kakashi's attention, he got ready to act as the guards opened up the gates, heaving on the rusted hinges. Yet he was not mentally prepared for what awaited on the other side of the grand doors.

There she stood. Uniform torn, stained and ripped up. The wakizashi sword that was strapped to her hip was blunt and scratched, the sheath dented. Skin scratched and bruised, wounds dripping with blood and gore. A long x shaped cut on the inner side of her left thigh. Gasping and choking for air, she started to wobble, blood dribbling down her limbs and stomach. The rain continued to fall, now hard and heavy; burning and searing the wounds of the lady. Yet she still managed to keep her face from wavering In an instant, Kakashi recognized who the woman was based on her cracked porcelain ANBU mask. (y/n).... "Sakura! Go alert the hospital. And you two boys, clear the way for Sakura so she can get there. Quickly!" Kakashi ordered them as he took the heavily wounded woman in his arms. Anger and fear coursed through Kakashi's veins as his heart thumped erratically. He could feel (y/n)'s body twitch in pain. "Izumo, go let Hokage-sama know that Ibara-hime has returned." Kakashi let out one last demand before zipping off to follow his kids.

"Kakashi..." (y/n) mumbled out his name, "Kakashi..." she shakily rose her hands up to gently cup his masked cheeks. "What is it?" He whispered, gently rubbing her skin through a torn patch of her ripped uniform. "Happy birthday, Hatake..." She softly breathed, her tight grip of Kakashi's chest loosened as her eyes dropped closed. Please don't die, (y/n)... I've waited all the fucking years. You aren't leaving me again. A tear formed in Kakashi's eye, flying off with the rain as he bolted towards the hospital. Stay with me a bit longer, will you?

"My sensei will be here any second with an ANBU woman in need of immediate medical attention!" Kakashi heard Sakura's voice quiver as he barged into the hospital. "I'm here, kids. Go to Gai-sensei and stay with him until I'm back." He quickly barked, flashing all of the nurses who flowed into the room a nervous look. "Please, help her. I'm begging you." He pleaded with the staff uncharacteristically. I need her to live. Need. "We do what we can, sir." One of the medic-nin nodded, putting (y/n)'s unconscious body onto the stretcher. If (y/n) lives, that would be the best birthday gift ever.

Kakashi jogged after the nurses and doctors, peering into the emergency clinic room through the window. "I'm sorry, Sir, but you won't be able to visit the lady until all the major injuries have been cleaned up and treated." A male nurse out his hand in his shoulder from behind. "But..! Okay..." Kakashi let out a sigh, "Isn't there any paperwork that needs to be filled out?"

The nurse shook his head, "The Hokage has come and is speaking to one of my colleagues about it. Don't worry about it. You won't have to take care of any of that." He tried to reassure the angsty shinobi, "The woman is part of the ANBU ranks, right? Her mask is of the uniform." Kakashi nodded his head, biting his lip inside of his mask, "Yeah...she is... but it's kinda complicated." The nurse raised his eyebrow but just shrugged. "Can I speak with the Hokage?" The Hatake requested. "Come this way," the other man sighed, leading him away.

Kakashi let out a deep and long sigh as he held (y/n)'s scraped hand in his gloved ones. He had been told by the same nurse from before that (y/n) was in a decent state to accept visitors, yet was still unconscious. He could tell that the nurse was hiding something from him, but he was too worried about (y/n) to give it a second thought. Hesitantly, he brought her hand to his masked lips, gently pressing them against the fabric. "Ya know, (y/n). After you left, I decided to give those goddamn books a try. And you're right, they are addictive. Thanks for the gift," Kakashi sadly chuckled before pausing for a moment.

"Those books, they helped me a lot. They helped me get through my days, just like you told me."

"They also helped me realize something. They helped me realize that I don't hate you. I don't want to hate, and I never should've."

"I've realized that I was such a dick to you at the beginning and that it was all my fault that our relationship became how it was. I regret it... So when you wake up again, I just want to start over again. Maybe not entirely, but just so that we can leave all the hate behind us. How does that sound?"

Kakashi stared at the sleeping (y/n), her chest heaving up and how slowly and rhythmically. It hurt him to see her like that, her skin swollen in the places of the stitches and anointed bruises. "Listen, (y/n). I'd never been able to tell this to you while you're conscious, so I might as well let it out now. I...I love you." Kakashi rightly shut his uncovered eye. "After feeling your loss, my dumbass self finally realized how much you are worth. After they pass on, you and the others were all I had left. But then you also left me, that hurt like hell." His tone started to break.

"Lord Hokage told me about the whole fake-death move, and I was relieved that you weren't gone for good. And then we lost contact, everybody assumed the mission had been finished, and your squad sacrificed your lives for it. I couldn't let the fact that you could be a dead sink in. It didn't feel right. Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai tried to get me out of another depression cycle. Kurenai even went to the lengths of quite literally slapping some sense into me." Kakashi played with a loose strand of (y/n)'s (h/c) hair.

The muscles of (y/n)'s hand twitched ever so slightly. Kakashi's drooping head snapped up; he'd almost fallen asleep in the chair. "(y/n)?" He murmured as her eyes started to flutter, "(y/n)?"

(y/n) chapped lip parted ever so slowly, taking a big breath of air, her (e/c) eyes squinting. "Hatake..?" She shakily managed to mumbled, her voice hoarse and dry. She tried to prop herself up on the bed, but Kakashi eased her back into her resting position. "Rest, (y/n), you're not ready to stress yourself yet." Kakashi to her, "I'll be back with a nurse and some water for you, alright?" (y/n) opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She simply looked down and nodded.

Moments later, Kakashi came back with the nurse and water. "Here," he carefully put the cup to her lip, gently tipping the cup, "Good." He turned to the nurse, who seemed to be scribbling something down from the little monitor to his clipboard. Kakashi's eyes followed the cord attached to it, to the long x shaped hash in (y/n)'s inner left thigh. What worried Kakashi was the anxious look on the nurse's face.

"(l/n)-san, your vitals are doing alright, but you'll have to stay here for a night or two just so that we can keep an eye on something's that may need monitoring." He curtly nodded his head, "Lord Hokage wished to speak to you. So, sir, that means you may have to leave."

Kakashi tried to reason with the other man, but (y/n) reached to weakly squeeze his thigh. "It's okay, Hatake. You can just drop by later." (y/n) tried to smile. "Fine," Kakashi grumbled, leaving the room and letting Hiruzen in.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hiruzen came back out. "How's (y/n)?" Kakashi asked him impatiently. The Hokage put his hand on Kakashi's shoulder as if trying to soothe him, "She'll be better soon. Don't worry, alright." The silver-haired shinobi let out a small grunt, "I know that she'll get better with time. But what about now?"

Kakashi knew that Hiruzen loved (y/n) almost like a daughter, he cared about her deeply. Hence the elaborate cover-ups to protect (y/n) and her squad on the unconventionally lengthy mission. The Hatake could see the sadness that had tried to be tucked away in the Sarutobi's eyes. "The main concern of the moment is the poison in the gash on her left thigh. The medic-nins have tried to extract as much of it as possible, and try to find something that will counteract the effects." The elderly man explained to him. "Did they find an antidote?" Kakashi questioned.

"That is where the problem lies," Hiruzen explained, "There is a certain medicinal herb that is used alongside a jutsu to nullify the effects, as the poison has traces of chakra. We have a few medics on hand who support the skill to perform the jutsu, but we don't have the plant. Even so, that won't be a permanent cure." Kakashi knit his eyebrows together, "How would it not be a perfect cure? Plus, since there are traces of chakra, could we possibly track down the person who created the poison and make them fess up on the cure?" He questioned.

"Great thinking, but..." Hiruzen groaned, "(y/n) said that they performed a self-destruction jutsu just after striking her. He probably thought that it would be in their best interest to take their secrets to the grave with them." Kakashi cursed under his breath, "Fuck... This is terrible."

Hiruzen nodded in agreement, "No duh."

Kakashi's head shot up, "Uh?!"

The elder man's eyes widened, "Did I use the term correctly?! I'm trying to pick up on the phrases the kids are using these days..."

Kakashi gritted his teeth, "Right idea of the meaning, I guess. But the context and timing...wasn't quite fit." Looking ever so slightly dejected, "Oh...alright." Smoothening out the wrinkles in his robe and putting in his cob pipe, "Kakashi, if you are going to stay here with (y/n), could you at least pick up some good food. The food in the hospital canteen is quite bland." Kakashi nodded his head and obliged, only to be stopped in his tracks by Hiruzen.

"Kakashi, I'd like to ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"What caused your change in actions towards (y/n) change so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've observed you two whilst you were in the ANBU together, and you never got along that well. And suddenly you act so attached to her, Kakashi. You don't need to answer. It's just that as your leader, I want to understand what is going on in the heads of some of my most trusted people." Hiruzen explained to Kakashi, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his cob pipe.

Kakashi frowned from behind his mask, trying to figure out how to explain his change of feelings in a professional manner. "I think that after I was given the impression that she was gone, I noticed that I cared about her. It made me realize that I was wrong to not see how much she meant in my life." He tried, his voice fading off into a whisper. Hiruzen smiled and nodded, "You really are something else, Kakashi."

Kakashi silently strolled over to Ichiraku's to grab some takeout. The paper lanterns lit the nearly empty streets of Konoha, creating a soft and soothing ambiance. The smell of the rain and moisture still clung to the air, the dirt roads had muddy dampness to them. "Yo! Kakashi, my eternal rival!" A boisterous and friendly voice greeted the said man. "Hey, Gai," Kakashi responded, he noticed his students sitting alongside each other and gave them a quick wave and smile. Naruto and Lee were arguing about who'd get Sakura. Sakura insisted that Sasuke would come around in her favor. Sasuke was quietly eating his food. And Neji and Tenten were discussing a new sword they saw in the windowsill of a weaponry shop.

"I'll take two eggplant miso soups with brown rice noodles," Kakashi leaned over the counter space between Lee and Naruto to order his meal, also effectively stopping the argument. "Thanks, Ayame," he thanked the daughter of Teuchi, owner of the quaint place. "No problem, Kakashi-san!" She chirped.

"Kakashi?" Gai raised his brushy brow, "Your kids told me about what happened this morning..." Kakashi sighed and pulled him aside so that they were at a comfortable distance, "It was (y/n)..." he told his best friend, "She's back and in the hospital because she's not in good health at the moment. I just came here to pick up a meal for her." Kakashi watched as Gai's jaw dropped, "(Y/N) IS ALIVE!" He exclaimed a touch too loud for his eternal rival's taste, "CAN I MEET HER?!" Tears of youthful joy waterfalled down the jumpsuit-clad man's cheeks. "I'll see if you can come tomorrow, alright Gai." Gai smiled broadly, "This is very...unusual. Youthful, nonetheless!" He grinned.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and nodded, "I'm glad she's back..." he murmured barely loud enough for Gai to hear. Knowingly, Gai patted Kakashi's back. "Oh! Yeah! Happy birthday, my youthful rival!" He gently punched his comrade's shoulder. A smile formed on Kakashi's lips, "Thanks, Gai." He flashed his eccentric friend his signature close-eyed smile.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, Kakashi! Have a good night!"

Knock knock, Kakashi rapt (y/n)'s door, "Can I come in?"

"Come in," (y/n) murmured, a small moan of pain escaping her lips, "Ouch..."

Kakashi quickly set the takeout on a little table, rushing to (y/n)'s side. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and helped her to the table. "I got us dinner because the food at the canteen isn't that good." He explained with a slight shrug. "Thanks, Hatake," a weak smile formed on her lips. The silvered-haired Jonin served them their meals. "Itadakimasu," they both mumbled.

Heavy tension filled the room as they ate in silence. (y/n) knew that Kakashi had his mask down, but didn't look up. "It's been a while..." Kakashi breathed, in hopes of hearing (y/n) speak, "Too long..." The kunoichi rested her forehead on her palm, "I- Yeah..." she mumbled, eyes growing classier by the second. So much for trying to start a conversation... Kakashi thought sadly as they resumed their meals without a word. The silence seemed to be killed him. Kami, it had been 10 goddamn years! 3650 days since he had gotten to talk to the woman. He missed her. Hell, he could even say that he missed all of their little spats. Hatake Kakashi missed everything about (y/n).

"I missed you..." was all Kakashi mumbled as he pushed his finished food away and pulled up his mask, "All these days, months, and years."

Hot tears slipped down (y/n)'s cheeks, forming a puddle on the table. "I-I came back be-because I didn't want-want to hurt you and the r-rest. Dying on passed down pain to the people who love you. I can't afford to c-carry the guilt of t-that." She mumbled shakily, "I promised to be back, a-and I held up the promise." Kakashi sadly smiled as he awkwardly reached under the table to gently caress (y/n)'s thigh.

"You care about others so much, but you should really take a moment to care about yourself, (y/n)." Kakashi scolded the injured kunoichi, "You had me scared for you; all those gashes and open wounds... You could've died," he knit his eyebrows together in worry. "Don't do that ever again."

(y/n)'s dull smile faltered as Kakashi spoke on, "Now you know how I felt when I saw you doing all those suicidal stunts back then on those missions. It was like you were in a hurry to die... I mean, I was too, but you did some seriously dumb shit," she giggled emptily. Kakashi sweat-dropped, "I see... I guess you are right..." (y/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes as the masked shinobi let out a drained sigh, "I'm always right, Hatake."

"Really, (l/n)? You've been through torturous pain, and you still act like a child." Kakashi groaned, "All these years..." (y/n) shot him a hard glare, "All these years and you still think you're in charge of me." He cast a confused look, "It's my duty to protect you, as a comrade." As a comrade... "I guess, but you're just annoying, Hatake," she huffed.

"I'm sorry about ruining your birthday with my arrival and stuff. I probably ruined your plans with those kids." (y/n) looked down, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them, "I could hear you guys through the gate; they seemed pumped about going out. I'm sorry, I didn't think about the flaws in my whole plan." Kakashi's head snapped up from its resting position on the table, "It's fine, they don't even know it's my birthday," he paused, "But you planned to come here? As in, today in particular. With all those injuries, (l/n), you should've just tried to take care of yourself. My birthday isn't as important as your health."

The (y/n) shook her head, "I was going to stay at a small village pretty far from here before finally coming home. I planned to just heal up there and see how things went from there. I even considered settling down there. But that just didn't feel right," (y/n) face set in a frown, "Once I realized that your birthday wasn't that far off, I decided that I couldn't stay and needed to come back. I doubted I would even live to be back. But here I am..." she said with a soft wince of pain. "It was terrible, I hated every second of it," Her (s/t) fingers made their way to the raw mark on her inner thigh, “I’d already lost so much; there was nothing for me to lose at that point.” Kakashi's face softened as he understood what she meant. (y/n) wasn't put in the mission alone, she had her team. They all must've been killed with time.

"Ouch!" (y/n) yelped as she let out a moan of pain, clenching the fabric of her hospital-issued pajama pants. “Shh..." Kakashi whispered into her ear, quickly leaning in to soothe her, "What's causing all this pain?" He asked with a frown as (y/n) bit her lip. "It's the thing in your thigh, right? Lord Hokage and the nurse told me a bit about it. But I still don't fully understand it and how it can't fully be cured."

(y/n) buried her face in her hands, "Oh..." She mumbled, "The poison can't de be removed because it's already been inside of me too long. And since it is laced with chakra, the properties of it aren't completely like normal poison." She blinked back the stinging agonizing tears in her eyes, "The herb that I need is just going to ease the effects in my body, whilst the jutsu will seal it from triggering anything that was layered in with the chakra." (y/n) explained. Kakashi could tell she was trying her hardest to keep her face straight, pushing back the pain and hurting inside. "The thing is–"

"What?" Kakashi asked the pained woman, his tone soft and soothing, "I can help if I know what's going on."

Warily, (y/n) agreed to speak on, "The place where the mission was stationed at was just underground of the nuke-nin outpost I was from. And the guy who poisonous me was one of the other kids' experiments were done on, along with me. He was a few years older than us, and his name was Hiroto Myoga. His parents were in owed debt to the rogues, they were forced into being test subjects until they died. Which left Hiroto in the nuke-nin's hands." She rubbed the temple of her head pushing away the images that sent a shiver down her spine, "Something similar had happened in the case of my parents and me. But unlike me, when the ANBU did the raid, Hiroto was snuck away just in time."

Kakashi's heart sank as he heard what she was telling him. (y/n) had never known much about her past, the damned curse seal had caused. “Since he was older than most of the other kids there, the nuke-nin's of the outpost decided that they needed to trust their information. It was all precautionary, just in case they were taken down. And that's just what happened. Hiroto was the one ordered to put memory restriction curse seals on us, the kids, before he fled to be underground, where the actual harm was being done. That meant that all this time Hiroto had been working in those old plans." (y/n) closed her eyes tightly, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

With a subtle groan, Kakashi supported (y/n) up from the chair and rested her in her cot. "Don't stress yourself, (y/n). You can just tell me later; it's getting late anyway." He told her. "It's fine, Hatake. Letting this out helps me feel better." She reassured him.

"The ANBU caught wind of suspicious activity in that area and decided to send out a squad to go check out. I overheard Danzō arguing with Lord Hokage about it, and got interested. It was really dumb, but I just wanted to go to learn more about what happened in my past. I learned, but that can with lots of twists and turns. 10 years of going undercover..." (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes met Kakashi's single uncovered black one, "It wasn't long before Hiroto became suspicious of us, slowly narrowing the group down till it was just me." (y/n) took a deep breath and continued, "After Hiroto killed himself in our final fight, my curse seal was lifted. That's how I suddenly was able to remember all of the past. All of it."

A pit formed in Kakashi's stomach as he watched (y/n) cry in silence. He wanted to help her feel better, he really did. But he was afraid that he'd make things worse; dealing with feelings just wasn't his thing. "I'm here for you, (l/n). We've been through so much together, you've helped me through it all," Kakashi tried to reassure her, "It's my turn to look after you. Please, just don't cry." He reached out his hand to brush a tear-off of her streaked cheeks.

“Are you okay with me staying here for the night?" Kakashi asked (y/n) as they sat at the bay window, looking down upon the empty moonlit streets of Konoha. The soft light cast down by the moon seemed to make everything look beautiful, serene, and at peace. "(l/n)?" He asked again, turning to look back at her. A gentle smile played on Kakashi's lips as he saw that she'd fallen asleep. (y/n) had been through so much throughout the day, she not only deserved to rest for a long time but also needed to. "Good night, (y/n)..." he carefully lifted the sleeping beauty and placed her on the cot. Sitting back at the bay seat, Kakashi took in a deep breath. "I love you."

She's finally back.

She's finally home.

[feysandandnyx]

The way Feyre feels about his abusive family will never be overlooked by the people who love, respect and understand this character.

When you feel lonely and isolated by your own family, we're not talking about a normal relationship

“How did you learn to bind wounds like this? I can still use the hand, even with the wrappings.”“Trial and error. I had to be able to pull a bowstring the next day.” He was quiet as we turned down another sun-drenched marble hallway, and I dared to look at him. I found him carefully studying me, his lips in a thin line. “Has anyone ever taken care of you?” he asked quietly. “No.” I’d long since stopped feeling sorry for myself about it. “Did you learn to hunt in a similar manner—trial and error?”“I spied on hunters when I could get away with it, and then practiced until I hit something. When I missed, we didn’t eat. So learning how to aim was the first thing I figured out.”

I stalked to the nearest rosebush and ripped off a rose, my fingers tearing on the thorns. I ignored the pain, the warmth of the blood that trickled down. I could never paint it accurately—never render it the way those artists had in the gallery pieces. I would never be able to paint Elain’s little garden outside the cottage the way I remembered it, even if my family didn’t remember me. He didn’t reprimand me for taking one of his parents’ roses—parents who were as absent as my own, but who had probably loved each other and loved him better than mine cared for me. A family that would have offered to go in his place if someone had come to steal him away. My fingers stung and ached, but I still held on to the rose as I said, “I don’t know why I feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them. Why it feels so selfish and horrible to paint. I shouldn’t—shouldn’t feel that way, should I? I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.” The rose hung limply from my fingers. “All those years, what I did for them … And they didn’t try to stop you from taking me.” There it was, the giant pain that cracked me in two if I thought about it too long. “I don’t know why I expected them to—why I believed that the puca’s illusion was real that night. I don’t know why I bother still thinking about it. Or still caring.” He was silent long enough that I added, “Compared to you—to your borders and magic being weakened—I suppose my self-pity is absurd.”“If it grieves you,” he said, the words caressing my bones, “then I don’t think it’s absurd at all.”

He could find work if he wasn’t so ashamed, Nesta always said when I hissed about it. She hated him for the injury, too—for not fighting back when that creditor and his thugs had burst into the cottage and smashed his knee again and again. Nesta and Elain had fled into the bedroom, barricading the door. I had stayed, begging and weeping through every scream of my father, every crunch of bone. I’d soiled myself—and then vomited right on the stones before the hearth. Only then did the men leave. We never saw them again.

Tamlin must have realized it, too, for he loosed a long, controlled breath before moving to the next painting. Tall shadows of men, bright red dripping off their fists, off their wooden clubs, hovering and filling the edges of the painting as they towered over the curled figure on the floor, the blood leaking from him, the leg at a wrong angle. Tamlin swore. “You were there when they wrecked your father’s leg.”“Someone had to beg them to stop.”

Whenever she felt low in self-esteem, it was Nesta's condemning voice that Feyre heard, even to judge herself. This is not normal behavior.

“Feyre,” he repeated, and closed his eyes. My sisters had gone quiet, and I looked up in time to see Nesta crinkle her nose with a sniff. She picked at my cloak. “You stink like a pig covered in its own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?” I didn’t let the sting and ache show. I’d been too young to learn more than the basics of manners and reading and writing when our family had fallen into misfortune, and she’d never let me forget it. She stepped back to run a finger over the braided coils of her gold-brown hair. “Take those disgusting clothes off.” I took my time, swallowing the words I wanted to bark back at her. Older than me by three years, she somehow looked younger than I did, her golden cheeks always flushed with a delicate, vibrant.

It was too dim to admire any of the paintings lining the walls, and I didn’t dare risk a candle. These past three days, there had been servants in the halls when I’d worked up the nerve to look at the art—and the part of me that spoke with Nesta’s voice had laughed at the idea of an ignorant human trying to admire faerie art. Some other time, then, I’d told myself. I would find another day¸ a quiet hour when no one was around, to look at them. I had plenty of hours now—a whole lifetime in front of me. Perhaps … perhaps I’d figure out what I wished to do with it.

I could almost feel the wound deep in my chest as it ripped open and all those awful, silent words came pouring out. Illiterate, ignorant, unremarkable, proud, cold—all spoken from Nesta’s mouth, all echoing in my head with her sneering voice.

What do Know? Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.” She stormed off, Elain darting after her, cooing her sympathy. They slammed the door to the bedroom hard enough to rattle the dishes. I’d heard the words before—and knew she only repeated them because I’d flinched that first time she spat them. They still burned anyway.

Most High Lords are trained from birth in manners and laws and court warfare. When the title fell to me, it was a … rough transition. Many of my father’s courtiers defected to other courts rather than have a warrior-beast snarling at them.” A half-wild beast, Nesta had once called me. It was an effort to not take his hand, to not reach out to him and tell him that I understood. But I just said, “Then they’re idiots. You’ve kept these lands protected from the blight, when it seems that others haven’t fared so well. "They’re idiots,” I said again.

- A Court of Thorns and Roses - Sarah J. Maas.

Feyre suffered psychological abuse by her family for years. Sarah can try to justify Nesta and Elain all she wants, but the way Feyre felt about it won't change.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Happiness

Summary: A daughter of Thanos, Eija had grown accustomed to the isolated nature of life on the Sanctuary. Only when her father orders her to keep watch over an injured prisoner does she begin to realize how lonely it is.

Written for @lucywrites02′s Lucywrites19 Writing Challenge on prompt #6

Word Count: 4,078

Pairing: Loki (Marvel) x OFC

A/N: Lucy: *puts together a list of really nice, sweet, loving prompts that would make for some wonderful, fluffy fics* 

Me: And I took that personally

Honestly, this turned into more of a separate challenge for me to see if I could take a fluffy prompt and write an angst bomb. I can say I’m both pleased and thoroughly ashamed of myself.

Happy Birthday, Lucy! I hope you don’t hate me too much after this one ...

Warnings: Implied/referenced torture (it’s not super graphic, but it’s definitely there), blood/injury, character death

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“Are you happy, child?”

It wasn’t the type of thing Eija had expected the hulking warrior to ask a street urchin like her, especially not after catching her wrist in his pocket. Really, she should have known better than to try to steal from someone so clearly capable of crushing her skull within his fist, but his golden armor had glistened so temptingly in the sunlight and besides, she had never been caught before …

When he caught her wrist and yanked her in front of him, Eija was sure that this was the end. The penalty for stealing was steep to begin with, but stealing from a noble (and certainly this man must have been a noble) could lose you your head. But he said nothing of punishment. Instead, he curled his purple lips into a smile and asked her that question.

“Are you happy, child?”

No one had ever asked her that before. No one ever really asked her anything—the most Eija ever got were the curses spat at her on the street, on the luckless days when pickpocketing had brought her nothing and she was forced to beg for sustenance. No one cared enough to ask after her.

No, she told the warrior-noble, no, she wasn’t happy. She was hungry and tired and cold, and she didn’t have money to buy food.

The towering creature laughed, caressing the brilliant hilt that hung at his waist. “I thought not. Come,” he said, stepping forward and motioning her to follow. “I have something for you to eat on my ship.”

…

Eija tugged at the laces on her boot. She had tied and untied them three times already, but she could think of nothing else to do in this tiny room, so she went in for the fourth. Besides her, the Jotun sagged against his braces in the metal chair, his labored breathing the only sound to break the stillness. He didn’t look very Jotun. Lord Thanos had explained that it was some kind of enchantment—the AllFather had magicked away his blue skin when he was a baby to make him look more Asgardian. Eija didn’t really understand the reasoning behind such an action, but she didn’t need to. Her job was simply to make sure he survived the night.

It was a frustrating assignment. Eija wasn’t a healer—she had no idea what she was supposed to do if death came knocking for the prisoner. Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly an assassin either, and so unlike the rest of her adoptive siblings her role on the Sanctuary wasn’t considered to be of critical importance.

So here she was. Babysitting.

The Jotun groaned. It was a soft noise, but it was enough to rip Eija’s attention away from her shoes. He shifted against his restraints, but there was no force behind the movements.

“Hey,” she called. “Are you awake?” She shouldn’t have been talking to the prisoner. Somehow, she knew Lord Thanos wouldn’t like it if he were to find out. Still, the metallic room housed a lonely existence, and Eija was desperate for any kind of distraction.

Although the prisoner didn’t exactly seem to be the ideal conversation partner. He flinched at the sound of her voice, his feeble movement falling still as abruptly as it began. Perhaps she should have gone back to her laces, but Eija was intrigued. She left her stool to stand before the Jotun, peering down at him through his shackles.

“Are you awake?” she asked again. He didn’t respond. His eyes were closed, his head hanging limply against his shoulders, as if he hadn’t just been rustling about. The thought of some grand Jotun (Asgardian?) prince trying to trick her by playing dead was so comical that Eija had to bite back her laugh.

“Hey,” she said instead, trying to add some of that Black Order sharpness to her voice as she tapped his arm. “Knock it off. I know you’re awake.”

He looked up at her then, his movement slow and labored. It almost made her wince, just looking at the way he struggled to open his bloodshot eyes. Lord Thanos had allowed Proxima charge of the Jotun today, and she had clearly made the most of it—his face was so swollen that she never would have recognized the man Corvus had pulled out of the depths of space only a week ago.

“What do you want?” he whispered, voice low and hoarse. He was making a valiant effort to control his breathing, but Eija knew the look of fear when she saw it. She had seen it in the faces of almost everyone who found themselves in the presence of Lord Thanos and his children, although those faces were never focused on her. This must have been the first time she was the cause of such terror.

It was an odd feeling. Eija wasn’t sure she liked it.

She shrugged, dropping the serious tone. “I just wanted to talk to someone. It gets very dull in here.”

The prisoner only stared at her.

No, not the ideal conversation partner at all.

Eija sighed. It seemed she’d be returning to her shoelaces in short time after all.

“Can you tell me your name at least?” she asked. No one had mentioned it yet, and Eija had been afraid to inquire. Lord Thanos hadn’t been particularly happy when he gave her this assignment—his anger had been more directed at Proxima, for nearly killing the prisoner, but Eija didn’t want to give him a reason to turn on her. She wasn’t often the target of the Mad Titan’s fury, but the few times she was were enough of a lesson for a lifetime.

But the Jotun made no response. “Is this a trick?” he asked finally.

“No. I’m just curious.” A strand of black hair had fallen into his eye. Eija was tempted to brush it away, but she held herself back. “I’ll tell you my name, if it makes you feel better,” she offered.

She waited a moment for him to give some kind of answer. He didn’t.

“Eija,” she said. “My name’s Eija.”

He inhaled. “Did he send you to kill me?”

The question caught her off guard, although perhaps it was fair. “What? No, no I’m just— no,” she stuttered. “I don’t … kill people.”

He eyed her, unconvinced. “Why are you here, then?”

“To make sure you don’t die,” she said. “They were worried, you know.” Proxima had been quite proud of herself. Eija had overheard her bragging to some of the others earlier in the day about how she had the little prince calling out for his mother by the end. They had been laughing about it, how quickly he had succumbed to childish instincts, but the thought intrigued Eija.

She had never known her mother. Before Lord Thanos had found her, she had had no one but herself, scrounging up what food she could from what she stole on the street. She never cried for anyone, no matter how frightened she was. She had no one to cry for.

She wondered what it was like.

“Are you truly not going to tell me your name?” she asked. It was a bit disappointing. She had hoped he’d be at least a little more interesting than this.

He swallowed slowly, painfully. Whereas before it seemed he was afraid to take his eyes off of her, now he seemed unable to meet her gaze.

“Loki,” he finally whispered.

“Loki,” Eija repeated. The name made her smile, although she wasn’t quite sure why it would. “It’s nice to meet you, Loki.”

She asked him more questions as the night went on—questions about his home, his family, his childhood memories. At first, he wouldn’t answer any of them. He’d just stare at her blankly as she posed her queries or whip his head away as if he couldn’t stand to be faced with the words.

So, she changed tactics. She told him about growing up on Knowhere, before Thanos found her, about how when she was not yet six years of age the man she had known as her father dumped her on the side of the road and flew away into permanent obscurity, and about how she taught herself how to reach into another’s pocket and pull out exactly what she was looking for by practicing on the other unsuspecting urchins who lived alongside her on the street. It was strange, to relieve those stories before an audience. Because he was an audience, like it or not. He was listening to every word she said, even more so, she suspected, than he wanted to let on.

When she left that morning, after Corvus came to take over for the day, her throat was so dry she could barely speak. It was a nice kind of dry, though. The Black Order never demanded her voice anyways, so it wasn’t a noticeable inconvenience.

It was worth it.

“You again,” Loki muttered when she slipped into the cell the following evening. “Eija.”

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “You remembered my name!”

“You talked a lot.” He blinked sleepily. “You had a nice voice.”

Eija stopped. She wasn’t certain she heard him incorrectly. “What?”

He yawned. “You had a nice voice.”

She felt a flush rising in her cheeks. It was quite possibly the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her, as ridiculous as it seemed. Eija doubted her siblings could even recognize the sound of her voice—if they did, it would have been to scold her for stepping so far out of line, certainly not to pay her a compliment.

“If you’d like,” she said eagerly, pulling the stool across the room so she could sit next to him. “I can tell you more stories?”

It became the part of the day Eija looked forward to most—the moments where she could talk for hours about anything she wanted, without the ever-present fear of her siblings’ mockery or the Mad Titan’s chastening. It felt … safe, in a way that she hadn’t felt safe before. Warm. She always felt so alone on this ship, wasting away whilst awaiting orders. There were points where even her own thoughts seemed to abandon her to the darkness.

But not here. Not with Loki.

He seemed to enjoy it as well. Of course, she held no illusions that he was quite literally a captive audience, but he listened. He remembered the things she said to him. On good days, he’d even ask her questions, add in thoughts and stories of his own.

“You said you don’t kill people,” he asked suddenly, on one such visit. “Did you mean that?”

Eija shifted uncomfortably. This had always been an awkward subject. “Yes,” she said. “I’m not an assassin. I don’t have the training.”

“What do you do here, then?”

She inhaled. “Steal things.”

“Steal things?” he repeated. “What kind of things?”

Eija shrugged. “Anything he wants,” she said. “Weapons, passkeys, precious gems—whatever.” She remembered that day, when Lord Thanos had taken her from the streets to his ship, what he had said as she devoured the soup his servant placed in front of her.

“I have more trained killers than I know what to do with,” he told her. “But perhaps I could use a sneak thief.”

Eija had agreed to everything he said— it wasn’t as if she was in any position to refuse him, and besides, anything had to be better than sleeping in a trash bin. And so, she became the Titan’s personal retriever, sneaking her way across the galaxy and returning with the treasures he coveted in her pockets. Her methods were straight and to the point. She was in and out before anyone even noticed her presence, and, unlike her adopted siblings, there wasn’t a trail of bodies left in her wake.

“But if your role is to steal things,” Loki asked. “Then what are you doing with me?”

Eija didn’t answer right away. Thanos had not ordered her to continue her night watch over the Jotun prisoner. He hadn’t said that she couldn’t, but she was fairly certain that he wouldn’t be pleased to find that she had. What was she doing here?

“I just like to talk to somebody, I guess,” she said. “Besides, somebody has to make sure you make it through the night.”

Although it became exceedingly clear with each passing day that such a task may be outside of her abilities. One night, she could hear his hacking all the way down the hall, rattling the walls as she rushed to his side. She found him sagging limply against his shackles, soaked in blood and sweat and goodness knows what else as he choked on his own breath.

Eija didn’t know what to do—she could only wipe the blood from his face and hold the bottle of water to his lips.

“What does he want from me?” he croaked, once he could finally speak. There were tears running down the creases of his face, although whether that was from emotion or pain Eija couldn’t be sure. “Why is he doing this to me?”

For once, she said nothing. She had no answer for him.

She tried asking Gamora once. It was no secret that the Zehoberei was Lord Thanos’ favorite—if he were to tell anyone his intentions for the prisoner, it would be her.

But the assassin gave her nothing. “He has a use in mind,” she said. “Don’t question him.”

“But,” Eija hesitated. “If that’s the case, why is he hurting him?” She gulped. “If he has a use for him, shouldn’t he be … using him?”

Gamora glared at her. “If he’s not strong enough to survive this, he’s not strong enough to do Thanos’ bidding.” Her tone lowered in warning. “Remember your place.”

Eija did remember her place. She was reminded of it with every passing moment—leashed to her lord’s beck and call, every day walking that delicate tightrope of anticipating his wishes without asserting herself too far in his eyes, living in fear of the day when the bottom finally fell through and he decided to unsheathe the blade at his waist.

Was this his plan for Loki as well? Torture him to death’s edge until it pleased him to make him yet another glorified slave? She thought of Loki, shackled to his chair, heaving and coughing up blood, sentenced to wither away until Thanos found use for him … for what? The mere crime of existence?

And here she was, letting it happen, watching as Thanos sucked the life out of him, simply using him as a receptacle to her own selfish need for attention.

She was just as awful.

But there was nothing she could do about it. Was there?

Unless …

The thought started as a hypothetical. Isn’t that how all treason began? A tiny what-if, buried under one’s daily worries? The hangers of the Sanctuary were hardly well-guarded. There was little reason to guard them, after all—few on this vessel had cause to sneak off of it, and those who did hadn’t the opportunity. And with the current position they had been holding the last few days, only a small way from the Krylor jump point, which could then take you down through one of the major galactical traffic-ways …

Stealing a ship would be almost too easy.

It wouldn’t work, she told herself as she stood amongst her siblings in Thanos’ court. The ship was one thing, the passenger was something else entirely. Loki’s chains were specifically designed by the Mad Titan to stifle the magic of that whom they held. They were the very definition of unbreakable. And the key—Thanos kept it on his person at all times, hooked to his belt alongside his blades. Any scheme was doomed to fail.

But sometimes, opportunities present themselves.

“And where are you going, child?”

Eija jumped out of her skin when she turned the corner and nearly collided with the lord himself. It took her a moment to find her voice.

“To watch over the prisoner, as you ordered, sir.”

He frowned. “That was weeks ago. You’re not still doing that now?”

She bit her tongue, so hard it hurt. “W-with all due respect sir, you never told me to stop.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. Such action is no longer necessary.”

“Yes sir.” She nodded. “Apologies, sir.”

Eija stood there shaking long after he had continued down the hall. Her heart felt as if it might pound its way out of her chest. He had to have noticed. In a moment, he’d come storming back up the corridor, grab her by her neck, and crush her skull against the wall.

But he never did.

It was just Eija, alone in the hallway, clutching the golden key between her trembling fingers.

There was little time. Her theft could only go overlooked for so long. She didn’t have the chance to question herself as she rushed to Loki’s cell—any moment spent in doubt was a moment wasted.

Loki seemed to be unconscious when she first arrived at his side, but he popped up with a start the moment she reached for his chains.

“What—" he gasped, eyes wild. “What’s happening?”

The key clicked in the lock. He heaved a breath, falling forward as the shackles fell open.

“You’re going home.” Eija’s mind was racing at a mile a minute. They couldn’t steal a Q-ship—it was too big; they’d would be noticed immediately … “Can you fly a pod?” she asked.

He gulped. “Possibly?”

“Good enough.” She pulled him to his feet. It was at this moment she became aware of the fact that she had only every seen him seated. Loki was tall. Much, much taller than her, and when he sagged against her it took all of her strength to keep him from tumbling to the metallic floor. For a moment she feared that he was too weak to even stand on his own and nearly panicked, because oh goodness how was she supposed to carry him all the way to the hanger—

But he managed to stabilize himself, gripping her shoulder so tightly that she lost feeling in it, but standing on his own. Slowly, she was able to walk him into the hallway.

The hanger was only a few floors above them, but the elevator ride felt like an eternity.

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop …

If it stopped before they reached their destination, they were both dead.

Besides her, Loki’s breathing was labored. He hadn’t said anything since she had come to get him.

She squeezed his forearm, hoping he couldn’t feel how she was trembling like a leaf. “You alright?”

He nodded weakly. “I assume you have a plan?”

“The pods are lined on the far wall of the hanger.” She inhaled. “When the door opens, we run like mad and get you on one. And then you take off for the jump point, and don’t stop until you’ve hit traffic.”

Loki turned to her, brow furrowed. “What about you?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes. Surely you’ll not stay here?”

Eija gulped. There wasn’t time to think about that now.

The elevator doors clicked open to reveal a thicket of barbed shadows and twisted metal. The hanger was lifeless and barren this time of night, lit only by the glow of the cosmos streaming in through the glass. They made their way in perfect silence, the only sound being the pounding of her heartbeat behind her eardrums. Every dark shape seemed like a waiting figure. Now, it was Eija that clung to him too tightly, terrified that at any moment someone would jump out and rip him from her grasp. By the time they reached their destination, they were both wildly out of breath.

The pods were small, thin one-man transports. Calling them ships was really being too generous. They weren’t really meant for long term travel, but they could work for a few jumps—long enough to get to civilized airspace, which was all he needed. She helped Loki into the compartment, careful to keep him from hitting his head on the low ceiling. This damn ship had caused him enough pain already.

He sighed, leaning against the seat in one short moment of rest before turning back to her. “You still haven’t said what you plan to do.”

Eija hesitated. What could she plan to do? She had nothing waiting for her beyond this ship. As with all of his children, Thanos held a piece of her that he would never relinquish, no matter how far she flew.

“I’ll stay here,” she murmured. “For now, at least. They might pick up on something if too much is out of place.”

“But—"

“Please,” Eija hissed. “You remember what I said, right? Take the Krylor jump, and just keep towards Xandar.” She inhaled so deeply it hurt, trying to bury the aching dread building in her chest. “Stay with the crowds whenever you can—he won’t bother with you if it means he has to go through heavy populations.”

Loki nodded, but she wasn’t certain he was listening. There was a sadness behind his eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul. He squeezed her hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips in the lightest of kisses.

“Thank you, Eija,” he whispered. “May fate be kind to you.”

…

The alarm went off some hours later, when morning dawned upon an empty cell. They came for her only minutes after. Eija hadn’t been certain of what she would do—would she scream when they broke down her door? Cry for help? Fight for her life? But as the Black Order filed into her room with their weapons drawn, Eija felt only an overwhelming calm. It was good that they were here. The longer they spent with her, the more of a chance Loki had of getting away.

She went with her adoptive siblings willingly.

They took her to the same tiny room where this had all begun, shackled her to the same chair she had watched over so diligently. Eija barely registered it.

Surely, Loki was hundreds of star systems away from here now.

Surely he was safe.

When the pain did come, it filled every fiber of her being, burning through her body as if she were nothing but dry kindling. Her vision bled white. Her screams ripped her throat raw.

They asked no questions. She was relieved for that at least, because her every coherent thought shattered to pieces long before it could reach her lips.

She understood now why Loki had cried for his mother. She would have too, had she a mother to cry for. Instead, she just cried.

Eija wasn’t certain how much time had passed before he arrived. It could have been hours, it could have been months, but at some point when she dragged her aching head to look up she found Lord Thanos staring down at her, the stony weight of disappointment heavy on his features.

Gamora stood next to him. She spared a glance at her former sister, softer, sadder, almost sympathetic, before she turned back to her father.

“Sir, the Jotun is out of tracking range. There’s nothing we can do at this point.”

Out of range.

Eija thought of Loki, raven hair streaming in the breeze behind him as he pulled himself out of the craft, safe on some green, luscious, faraway planet that the Black Order could never reach. She smiled, blood dripping from her lips.

Thanos’ expression remained immovable.

“Well, child,” he finally said, looking down at her as he caressed the glinting hilt at his waist. “Look upon this mess. See what you have done. Are you happy now?” He reached out with his other hand, tipping her chin up towards him with a single finger, as if the mere thought of touching her disgusted him. “You look happy.”

Eija felt a laugh tickle her throat. It came out as more of a cough, blood and bile staining her tongue. Still, she could not bring herself to stop smiling.

“I am happy, sir.”

It was true. A beautiful warmth flooded her aching chest. She laughed again, closing her eyes and letting the feeling wash over her.

She was still laughing when the blade severed her throat. 

[mysticpetals]

Sorry for bothering you, but I had another idea! :D If you don't mind me sending two requests, how about a headcanon (or imagine if you want, you can choose what you like best) where Jake will meet MC's parents and he is super nervous because he is afraid of what they will think of him and if they knew that he is a hacker. But when Jake and MC arrive at her parents' house, they are quite different than Jake thought.

I'm sooooo sorry that this is super late but life got in the way and I just couldn't bring myself to write. And when I did have the time, I was almost ashamed of how long it had been and delayed it even further.

So this is me, finally writing what I should have done months ago. Thank you so much for your patience!!! ❤️

Jake and f!MC headcannons

(meeting the parents)

There aren't a lot of things that phase Jake

In fact, he's seen so much over the years he was on the run, done some illegal things too

But nothing and he meant nothing, could terrify him more than when his girlfriend told him that her parents had invited them over to have dinner together the next week

"next week? Like....like seven days later?"

"yes." she nodded and his brain short circuited.

"oh my god, oh my god."

MC amused herself by looking at Jake panicking about it for a few minutes and then grabbed his shoulders and made him look at her

"relax, babe. You don't have to. I can tell them that you're busy or something."

Jake calmed down for a moment but then he noticed the sad smile on MC's face

And he doesn't like seeing her sad

At all.

So despite his nervousness, he steeled himself to do this

"why don't we go? I think it'll be fun."

MC's face was priceless.

Shocked beyond belief, she cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward, eyes wide

"are you sure, honey? You don't have to force yourself."

She looked so hopeful and excited to hear his answer

And they had been dating for a while. So it was only natural that they meet each other's families

And since MC had already pretty much met his (only the people he considered as one!), it wouldn't be fair if he didn't make an effort too

"yes. We should go," he smiled and MC squealed excitedly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips

"oh my gosh, I'm so excited!! I'll go call them right now!!"

:))))

Did he make the right decision?

Wellllll, standing in front of MC's house, he was sweating profusely

He had worn his best outfit, a white button up shirt and black jeans

And they had already been late because MC liked his look a little too much

Anyway!!!

He was anxious about making the best impression and he really hoped that they wouldn't be put off by his shyness

Or his profession

About which they didn't know

It's fine it's fine it's fine—

MC's hand slips into his, she gives him a soft smile and the world around them fades away

"I'll be with you the whole time. Tell me if it becomes too much."

Jake swears he's never been more in love

Okay, he can do this!! Absolutely!!

He nods resolutely and MC leads them to her parent's doorstep

Jake's heart is pounding but he's ready

The door opens and he's immediately engulfed in a bone crushing hug

He thinks he can't breath and he looks at MC with wide eyes, asking what to do and she just rolls her eyes in fond exasperation

"really feeling the love here, dad. Not like your daughter is here."

And the weight immediately lifts off of him and turns towards his girlfriend who is laughing as her father hugs her to himself

She squeezes him tight in return and Jake feels himself smile

"it's been too long. I wish you'd come by more. And Jake! Welcome home, son!"

Jake is flabbergasted by the warm welcome. Especially coming from MC's father.

Aren't fathers supposed to threaten the boyfriend?

The flashcards he used to prepare for today did not cover this

"Um, thank you," he stammers out somehow and the man laughs

"My daughter here did say you were shy but no matter! Come on in, I won't bite."

He led them inside and Jake just knew that MC was enjoying all this a little too much judging by the amused tilt of her lips

He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a stern woman sitting on the couch, watching them walk in

"mom! How have you been?"

MC immediately went in for a hug while the older woman kept staring at him and MC's father leaned close to him and whispered

"She's a tough cookie to crack. Good luck, son."

He was so screwed

Jake gulped and watched the smallest of smiles cross her lips as she regarded her daughter, who was talking excitedly

"and this is Jake! My boyfriend!"

Jake literally felt the temperature inside the room drop, when her mother looked him in the eyes

"h-hello ma'am."

She nodded at him and well, that meant she acknowledged who he was, right?

She immediately turned away from him and started asking her daughter how she had been

Well, apparently not

"sorry, Jake. She's not trying to exclude you. She's just....a little hard around the edges."

He appreciated MC's dad because at least one parent didn't seem to hate him

"I appreciate that, sir."

He looked horrified at being called sir

"please don't call me that. Makes me feel old. Call me dad!"

Jake was once again astounded by the man's openness and not wanting to offend him, nodded hesitantly

He smiled widely and Jake was immediately reminded of MC's face when she laughed

"that's more like it! Come on now, the ladies shouldn't be left alone, they'll talk the night away."

MC smiled as soon as Jake entered in the kitchen where both the women were cooking and bringing out the cutlery

"had a nice chat, you two?" MC asked and her father nodded enthusiastically

"I like him! He's very nice, I approve."

"you've known him for two seconds." MC's mom deadpans and Jake smiles nervously

"can I help you with anything ma'am?"

She appraises him for a few moments and then nods

"then please help MC set the table."

Jake literally sighs in relief when the two of them come out from the kitchen

"your mom is scary."

MC laughs and pinches his cheek

"only because you look terrified of her. She enjoys making you squirm."

"well I almost wet myself because she looked at me like I murdered her dog or something"

MC laughs loudly and her father pokes his head out of the kitchen

"alright you two?"

Jake fights off the blush he knows he's sporting and prays that neither of her parents heard what he had said

Table was set quickly, with MC telling Jake about her childhood memories and her parents brought out the food

Jake thought he might have seen MC's mother smile when he made MC laugh but he wasn't sure

Dinner was a loud affair, with MC and her dad competing about who remembers the most about MC's childhood and Jake and her mother listening quietly

He definitely knew where MC got her charisma from

MC's dad was sweet to include Jake in their conversation, addressing him directly and asking him about his own experiences

He slowly found himself relaxing in their presence and telling them about his own hobbies and pet cat

MC's mother gave an approving nod at his choice of pet and asked him to bring him along the next time

Next time

Jake's brain short circuited at the thought that she wanted Jake to come over again

Does that mean tonight was successful?

"so Jake, you didn't say what you do for a living."

Ahhh

Well, it had to go wrong somewhere, right?

Jake froze and looked to MC to see her in a similar state and immediately deduced that she had not told them about his profession

Well

He knew this was going to come up eventually

"I'm a hacker."

Pin drop silence

You couldn't even hear anyone breath over the quietness

MC's mother put down her spoon slowly and opened her mouth to say something but Jake interrupted her before that

"I know you might think it's not a respectful job but it's what makes me happy. And MC supports me every step of the way and I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to honor her confidence in me. Keeping her safe and happy and healthy is my priority and I'll give my all to make sure that she's never unhappy with me."

Everyone at the table looked at him, MC with tears in her eyes and her father looking very proud

Her mother's expression was still unreadable until she smiled at him

The first smile directed at him

"I was going to say that's very interesting. I myself work in cyber security so I've had dealings with hackers. I've found that they're usually very polite."

What

The

Fuck

Jake blinked slowly and MC shifted guiltily in her seat

"haha what a coincidence, right?" She smiled nervously and her dad picked up quickly at her hint

"oh definitely! Why don't you two talk about work stuff and MC and I can clear up the table?"

MC and her father practically fly out of the dining room and Jake and her mom are the only ones left

It was MC's mother who initiated the conversation this time and Jake replied to her questions

He found it quite pleasant to be honest

It was not a regular occurrence that he could chat with someone who knew about computers so this was a nice change

And MC's mom was quite knowledgeable

She even offered to hire him the next time her company had a need of someone to check their software

Jake had no problem agreeing to her wish

He found that she was actually a very kind but fair woman who loved her family dearly, judging by the way she spoke of MC and her father

His heart warmed to know that MC had grown up in such a loving household, even if his heart gave a twinge at never having felt something akin to parental affection

"okay, you two. I think that's enough chatting for today," MC's father said and Jake looked at the time

Holy shit

How is it so late??

MC gave him a discreet thumbs up behind her mother's back and he had to stifle a laugh

"as much as we loved having you two, you should probably get going if you want to reach the city before midnight."

The goodbyes were a little sad and Jake found himself getting a bit emotional too

He really felt like he belonged here and not like an outsider

And MC's parents are so nice and inclusive

No he did not cry

Not at all

To Jake's surprise, MC's mom pulls him into a hug

"take care of my daughter."

And then he's getting roped into another hug, this one much tighter by her dad

"you hurt her, I'll kill you."

And when he stepped back, he was smiling as usual and Jake almost thought that he imagined his words

Anyway!!!

They are in the car and MC is already planning their next trip

And before he would have been scared but now, after spending time with her family, he knew he had found people worth considering his family

[strawberryamanita]

Sorry, started ranting about live-action adaptations and corporate dilution of artistry, Can't Help Being A Capricorn or whatever

Discourse is allowed, just don't add something like "wow OP/prev you're a fucking reprobate I hope something happens to you that compromises your health" thanks ✌️😘

I'm also not tagging this, so if it breaches containment it's not my fault lmao

If I could be so bold.

I think the reason there's just so nauseatingly many live-action adaptations out right now, and over the past 12 years, is because there were quite a few fan-casts made over the years, whether by one person or a small group brainstorming together. Like if you search "[series] fan cast"***, there's a very good chance you'll find people still having fun with the idea of matching a celebrity up to their cartoon lookalikes, even today. Not corporations trying to drum engagement, not stark and barren listicle websites, but individual human beings who haven't been paid to say what they're saying or do what they're doing. Even after we've seen just how little Hollywood actually does with the concept 95% of the time, people are having fun with hypotheticals and being creative without restraints.

***The exception is live-action adaptations that have been officially made. If you look for things that have not been tainted adapted yet, it's like looking into a portal to a time before all This Shit started happening.

I think the main issue is, nobody who's making those fan-castings is imagining, like, a full-on movie to go with it. It's more like, who would look cute cosplaying as that character. The extent of the idea is a PhotoShop job, and that's it.

Not whatever vortex of billion-dollar soullessness we've been tossed around in for the past decade.

The Nihilist part of me wants to say: "This kind of open discussion online is gonna keep convincing Hollywood that these ideas are guaranteed to birth successful films, so we should just stop having these convos publically" -- but that's an incredibly stupid thought. I'm not gonna try and convince people that creating is something to be ashamed of and hidden away; in this Capitalist Hellworld, where artistry is minimized to keep profits high, commercial-free creativity often feels like our last stand.

I don't really have a solution at this time, myself. Nor do I think I'm responsible for providing one -- the majority of people I've tried to make a big artistic project with can tell you I'm not the most experienced nor the most confident director. But I do know that this is what the culture of media has been since the early 2010s, and all I aim to do with this rant is bring that fact to the forefront.

In the 80s and 90s (and some of the 00s), companies had no problem churning out fun visuals and engaging soundtracks and worldbuilding that took honest-to-God effort by the dozen. I mean we have nostalgia over commercials from those eras, and it wasn't just because we're susceptible to consumerism; if that were the case, we wouldn't roll our eyes and groan whenever we hear the Unholy Trio of a ukulele, glockenspiel and someone whistling over whatever fucking hunk of plastic they're trying to shove in our faces now.

The 00s had a more laid-back vibe to it, particularly with videogame commercials. This was the Era of Grimdark and goths and embracing darkness because it felt more real than anything else, or whatever the fuck I was writing about whilst crying over MCR songs. But even so, a good chunk of 00s media had effort put into it. Yes, more than half of it was horribly problematic and exploitative; I'm not telling you it was good, I'm telling you there was effort. Even the shit with deadpan narration and cheap mascot costumes and out-of-place toilet humor had some sort of creative writing team, had some sort of vision, had some sort of direction.

Then the Internet started ramping up in quality and bandwidth, and people actually could speak loud enough that companies would hear them. To anyone who's too young to remember a world before the Internet being pushed into every corner of everyday life: it wasn’t this way 15+ years ago. Media slowly became more collaborative over the era of AOL and MySpace, because consumer feedback became easier and easier to access. And then with the advent of YouTube in 2006 -- which, as shitty as it is now, was revolutionary at the time, being a place where you could publish videos without needing to audition for anyone -- access to free ideas had very suddenly become exponentially faster. More and more Internet stars were popping up on TV (think "Web Soup" and "Tosh.0"), and then Google bought YouTube and decided to monetize it and now everyone's a rockstar and Andy Warhol's laughing at us from beyond the grave.

Fuck off, Andy.

...Now, I know it feels like I took a million detours -- and I agree that it does, because driving around in my brain feels like zig-zagging between five lanes at once -- but this all came from my theory that the ideas for media are in the hands of unpaid creators. We went from production teams being creative as Hell in the 80s and 90s, to an intentional cynicism in the 00s, to a fizzling-out of ideas and corporations holding their hands out for scraps of ideas from the consumers in the 2010s.

Money isn't trickle-down, but culture sure as shit is trickle-up.

Again, I don't have any ideas on how to fix this. Capitalism breeds a culture that allows exploitation of every fundamental part of human existence, and it knows how to adapt. With every new slew of ideas I have on how to combat it, it worms its way through anyhow. It's like fighting a hydra, and it gives me agita if I think about it for too long.

I don't know.

I remember a time when adaptations were fun to think about, but they almost never came from the minds of people looking to profit off nostalgia. They came from impassioned, vision-driven fans who wanted to try retelling their favorite stories through a different lens... and I think that's a beautiful thing. All fanart is -- fanmade drawings, fanmade covers of songs, fanmade films, cosplay, and fan-casts.

I don't really know how to end this rant neatly. Just... next time you're on your way to watch the latest diluted, regurgitated corporate shlock that's trying to profit off your nostalgia, just remember that there's probably some unpaid, good-natured rando out there that took your favorite media to new heights without any executive meddling. Maybe save a buck or two from not buying a ticket.

Or just watch the original story again, since everyone seems to have forgotten what a re-release is.

I'm taking a nap. Thanks for sticking it out, if you made it this far into whatever the Hell this is.

[gotnofucks]

Hii, I'm not sure whether you still take request or not, but if you do I'd really appreciate if you could write something where the reader has a mild case of anorexia and body image issues. However I totally understand if you choose not to. I'm in a really bad mindset right now so it would be comforting to read some angsty fluff😅. Maybe with Lee or loki or bucky its totally up to you. Thank you, and sorry if i triggered in any ways it was not my intention. Im actually pretty embarrassed to even ask tbh.

You never have to be embarrassed to ask me for anything. I know life let's hard, it gets difficult. We all have our own problems. I want you to know that you're perfect the way you are. How you appears doesn't matter. What's important is that you are healthy and happy.

I am sorry this took a little long. Hope this helps. I did all three for you.

How would the boys react to reader having a mild case of anorexia and body image issues?

+++++

Bucky Barnes: This is the third time he's seen you in the gym in less than 24 hours. You were lifting weights, grunting with effort and he frowned.

"Doll, put those down." He said and watched your sweaty body drop to the mat, tired and spent. He kneels before you, lifting your face. He gazes into your eyes, concern and compassion filling them.

You were so good at hiding your pain. The first thing agents learn is shielding their emotions, but you can't hide from him. You can't lie to him. He sees you, your truth in your eyes.

"Talk to me sweetheart" he mumbles, pulling you in his lap. His frown deepens because of how light you are. He's noticed you picking at your meal at dinner, being thinner than ever.

"I -" you look down, a little ashamed. You were supposed to be strong, fight crime. How could you be susceptible to small insecurities.

Bucky takes your hand is his, giving you a soft, small smile.

"I just want to look into the mirror and not hate myself" you say, voice cracking as you admit what had been in your heart for a while. It got more difficult to eat as you saw beautiful agents around you with perfect thigh gaps and round ass. You worked out more, harder than ever. You knew this wasn't normal, you knew. But...but you couldn't stop.

Bucky holds you to himself, his heart beating with sympathy and love for you. He knew what hating yourself felt like. He found his solace in you, and was determined that you find yours in him.

"Doll, the only mirror you need to look into are my eyes. Look here. " Taking your chin he makes you look in his deep blues, fingers gently stroking your cheek. "Look in my eyes and see yourself as I see you. Absolutely stunning, utter perfection. You won't find any hate here, only love."

When tears make their way down your face he wipes them away, knowing it's just the beginning to bringing you back. But he knows he will take this and any other journey with you, no matter how difficult.

"When you feel like you're not enough, promise me you'll find me. Until then, I'll love you enough for the both of us.

Lee Bodecker: His gaze was on your face as he ate, aware of you moving your food around. You always cooked a very elaborate meal for him, always putting the best things on the table. But he rarely saw you eating them.

As he lay with you at night, curling his heavy body around yours, he realized that you weren't just thin. You felt weaker. How had he taken this long to see you fall in front of him? He pulled you tighter against him, placing his mouth over your ear.

"Honey, remember when you promised you'll be a good wife to me?" He asked and you nodded, wondering where you went wrong. You turned in his arms to face him, looking at him with worried eyes.

"Did I do something?" You softly ask and Lee pecks your forehead.

"You're forgetting that I love you. That I love everything about you, from your body to your cooking to your singing in the shower. You're not looking after yourself sweetheart, even when you know that you're the most precious thing I have."

Your lower lip juts out in a pout, heartbreaking sobs shaking your body as you cry into your husband's chest. It was difficult to believe that someone like Lee, who could have any woman in this town, found you attractive, loved you enough to marry you.

"I - I am so sorry. I don't know how to stop." You confess and Lee cups your face delicately, holding you as one would a little baby.

"It's okay my love, we'll get through this. Together. Like always."

Loki : He was annoyed, both because you were not wearing his colours and because you looked almost... hollow.

At every ball he had gifted you a green dress, his colours so that everyone in attendance can know that you held his favor and desire. But today, not only did you wear blue, but you also looked so broken that made him want to impale anyone who hurt you on his dagger.

He swept you in his arms, twirling you across the floor with refined movements, smoothly dipping down and stealing the sweetest of kisses from your painted lips.

"I see you My Lady" he whispered, pulling you closer. Your eyes that used to be bright seems dull, waist thinner and your spirit brittle. He didn't need to dig too deep to find the truth. He knew you, he felt you.

"My Prince" you said, head a little bowed in embarrassment. You didn't see yourself worthy to be the Prince's companion, to walk the halls of Asgard as a Princess. You couldn't compare with the beauty of the court ladies, their dainty figures. You've tried to eat less, sweat more to be like them. So much so that today you couldn't fit in Loki's dress. It was too big for you.

"None of this My Lady" he said, twirling and pulling your back flush to his front, swaying smoothly. "I can see that doubt in your face, and I command it must leave at once. You are perfect, perfect to me and for me. Promise me now, that you'll work with me to bring yourself back."

You turned to face him again, matching every step of his with synchronized precision. His words and his eyes, their green so bright is seems to colour the world around you.

"My Prince, you'll have me as you want. Just...teach me. I confess I forget myself."

As applause drowned the sounds of music around you, Loki bent down to place his forehead against yours, sharing his strength with you.

"All day, every day. Forever, all long as it takes."