#got complimented on my smile one (1) time in high school

[whattraintracks]

firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool and so are you)

Thank you for the ask!

Five things I like about myself are my singing voice, smile, writing, sense of humor, and hair. I proceeded to rant about these things in the tags because I felt like it lol

[m-ilkiee]

E-boys Ruined my Life: Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader

Chapter 1: Love at First Sight

[series summary]: you had a crush on Megumi for so long, you hoped you would meet him again. But now, as you stand before him, you realize that Fushiguro Megumi is not the same kid as he was at fifteen- he was taller, broader and far more handsome than ever. And a whole lot meaner to you.

[synopsis]: Being friends with the IT GIRLS as a first year has a lot of perks; new friends, a popularity boost and crossing paths constantly with your high school crush after many years apart, Megumi Fushiguro. this is a heavily edited and revised chapter.

[cw]: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, aged up characters, classism - elitism, sexism/misogyny, unhealthy body image, violence, mentions of bullying and suicidal ideation, slut shaming, objectification, parasocial relationships, gaslighting, manipulation, sex between characters, brief mention of teenagers fooling around.

[r-18+] (not suitable for 17 and under)

[wc] 13.5k

[masterlist] [chapter 2] [taglist] [playlist] [main]

  THERE’S just something so thrilling about having positive attention.

Each step you take down the campus quad has heads turning your way in awe. Decked in original pink juicy couture tracks, white Nike sneakers with pink highlights and your white hermes bag hanging off your arm, you strutted onwards with your head held up high. Everything about you screamed perfection, from your proper posture to your brand new hair-do, to your freshly microbladed brows, to your light ‘clean girl’ makeup that accented your best features, down to new manipedi you got.

Things you took care of no matter how much pain or discomfort you were in. And it was worth every hot wax pulled off your skin.

All eyes were on you, stopping in their tracks just to admire your beauty. You could hear whistles and compliments being thrown at you from all sides, but you pay no mind to them, instead scanning the surroundings until you spot a familiar blue haired girl sitting at the edge of the quad with the other girls. She notices you as well, breaking into a smile as she waves you over and you make your way to their spot excitedly, plopping yourself on the bench besides your friends.

The IT girls of Wilhelm Baldwin University; that’s what the school dubbed your group, made up of the most popular girls in the school.

“Honestly, you’re one of the only people who I’ve seen wear a tracksuit and still look hot with it.” the blue haired girl, Miwa, spoke, her eyes admiring your outfit. She was the sweetest girl you’ve ever met, coming from humble beginnings and doing everything she could to support her family as the sole breadwinner.

She started creating lifestyle and baking content on her tik tok as a way to pass time when she was bored, only for her to grow big overnight, appearing on shows, tours and other events. Now she settled to go to school, wanting an education and she makes lifestyle content about her chaotic days in university.

Everyone knew her as the nice girl of the group, always willing to let people down gently and helping people who asked. To outsiders Miwa was a saint. To the inner workings of your group, she could be a little misguided and thick headed at times. Despite all that, she’s your closest friend and the first ever person you met on college campus, long before you became popular.

“It’s juicy couture Miwa. Of course it’s gonna look good. Well on someone as hot as (name).” A blonde haired girl who was sitting across added. 

Momo Nishimiya, a trust-fund baby whose parents practically own the legal world in the palm of their hands. With her father as a rather influential senator and her mother as the chief justice of the nation, Momo is set for life. You never let her five foot appearance fool you; just like her parents she was vicious, smart and could pull just the right strings to get people to do what she wanted.

Not even her dad was safe. The cherry red sports’ car sitting in the school’s parking lot is a testament of how convincing she could be.

You’re glad she was an ally and not an enemy.

“I’m just shocked that new money is finally wearing something original.” the girl with the short green hair sitting next to Momo says with a sly grin, her mocking tone grinding your gears.

Mai Zenin, the leader of the group and the bane of your fucking existence. Coming from a long line of generational wealth of the Zenin’s, Mai is the President of the biggest sorority in the nation, the Zeta house, a business major at the top of her class and an olympic gold medalist in the shooting range category.

It didn’t help that she was also gorgeous and her pores were effortlessly clear, because by god was she infuriating and you wished there was just something you could say to knock her down a peg.

Cocking her head sideways, Mai’s pink lips curled up into a smirk as she placed her chin on her propped up hand. “It is real Juicy Couture, right?”

“It is real.” You quip back in a sickly sweet voice, returning a strained smile and resisting the urge to just jump her. “I thought old money could recognize real from fake, guess you’re not that good at spotting the difference.”

And then there is the newest addition to the group, you, (name) (last name). From the generous nickname Mai gave you, you’re new money after your mother married your step-father, a highly controversial marriage to the media. Being the youngest and only freshman to ever join the group without being in Mai’s sorority, you’ve garnered attention within just months of entering the university.

You would think you would have done something noteworthy for the entire school to notice you; but no that’s not what happened.

You’re popular because you’re the hottest girl on campus.

No seriously.

There was a stupid ranking of the hottest freshman girl and you won. Not a sorority sister or some girl rushing for a sorority, nor a much more wealthy socialite who had years of money to keep looking hot. You assumed that with the world’s weird beauty standards you would barely be noticed, which was fine, but somehow the university decided they liked you and they liked the way you looked.

You went from being a homebody glued to your screen to being invited out by other girls to gatherings, getting free things on campus and being asked out every 3-7 business days.

And who was Mai to ignore the opportunity of a rising star?

Mai laughed at your clap back, her eyes sparkling with interest as she leaned back on the picnic chair. “Don’t be mad at me, I saved you from a scandal by giving you valid criticism. Imagine if the tabloids caught you wearing fake Vancleef, ‘(Last name) - Nanami caught wearing a dupe, is the mother-daughter duo still stuck with their penny pinching ways?’ Is that the kind of news you’d want following you around, new money?”

You gritted your teeth in frustration, recalling exactly how you got into that mess which heavily involved Mai Zenin. “You were the one who sent me to that store in the first place.”

“I was trying to teach you how to tell what’s a dupe and what’s not. And it’s paying off. You look so much better in original clothes.”

“Why you-”

“Ladies enough! Hearing about dupes makes my head hurt.” Momo cuts in, ending the argument before it could escalate any further. Both you and Mai instantly back down from the heated argument, still glaring down at each other. “And where is that pledge with our drinks? I’m really not in the mood to get through the day without my fix of espresso.”

“You’re just antsy cause you pulled an all-nighter with some project.” Mai teased her blonde friend, suddenly in a good mood again. “I told you to give that shit to some poor nerd who needs the money to do it for you.”

“I’d rather not. Most of them are so mediocre in their academic papers, it makes my skin crawl -”

You tune out the rest of their conversation, not wanting to hear the two girls talk about how poor people are dumb losers and how much better they are compared to people of lower class, picking up your phone and going straight to instagram. Mindlessly, you scrolled through your feed, only liking pictures of hot guys, your friends and food content, really nothing out of the ordinary with your feed.

Sometimes you wonder if this was going to be your college experience.

You had barely just entered school and already you were at the top of the food chain, which was good for you. Being the newest socialite, you knew it would be hard for anyone to respect you. 

It was different for someone like Miwa, who made the money by herself. She had more respect from wealthy people, than you who by proxy inherited it by your mother marrying into money.

Your dumb luck has saved you from being known as the gold digger’s daughter and you’re grateful for it.

Anyone would kill to be in your position right now and yet, you feel like you’re wasting away. There are so many restrictions attached to the lifestyle you’re living, so many clubs you can’t join because you let Mai dictate what you can or can’t do.

“The Wilhelm Baldwin University Theatre is inviting you to our play production, Legally Blonde on 26th Nov 2024.”

You hover on the instagram post on your school’s official account, staring at it sadly as you think about your situation. Something twists in your heart at the e-poster, a solemn smile making its way to your face. A distant past where you would have jumped at the opportunity to be involved in the arts flashes back into your mind.

‘Perhaps there is truly a price for fame and popularity…’

“Hey, isn’t that the play by the University’s theatre club?”

You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts by Miwa, but soon your shock turns to annoyance when you realise she was looking into your phone while you were distracted. Before you could reprimand her, Mai and Momo quickly shifted their attention to what she had said, clearly interested in the newest information, their faces twisted into ugly smirks.

“Those Juillard wannabees are hosting a play? That’s rich. What are they gonna do? Another shitty rendition of Romeo and Juliet?”

You internally cringe at Mai’s scornful tone but you couldn’t deny her words. Your school’s theatre program is rather underfunded, putting more money in your cheer team, football squad and fraternities. Only people either on scholarships or who are currently knee-deep in college debt make up the majority of the program's occupants.

Another difference between class divisions in this school.

Before you could say anything to change the topic, Momo snatches your phone from your hand and takes a good look at the poster. “They’re doing Legally Blonde?? These bottom feeders are literally cosplaying a socialite. Be for real”

The two girls burst into laughter, nearly knocking over your expensive iphone as if it’s the funniest thing on earth. Miwa bites her lip, a look of guilt crossing over her face the moment she sees your fists clenched underneath the table in annoyance. You’re quick to take slow deep breaths, counting from one - ten as the two older girls continued to berate the play between scornful laughter.

“Wait wait, let's check the casting…” Mai says between gasps, scrolling to see the people playing the characters. A feeling of dread washes down your body when you see her sneer at the first picture. “Hana Kurusu is the person they picked to be THE Elle Woods? THEY picked a girl who wears shoes from goodwill to play Elle woods? Who casted this?”

‘I’m pretty sure they don’t base their criteria for casting based on where you get shoes from’

“She’s not even close to being hot.” Momo adds, her tone tinged with pure disgust. “I can’t believe they picked her.”

“Maybe she’s a good actress.” Miwa says in a dead tone, trying to salvage the situation. The older girls look at Miwa as if she’s grown two heads, before sighing and shaking their heads like she’s an impetuous child. “Look, Miwa-chan, I know you’re a sweetheart but you know none of those theatre kids have any talent. They take in anyone, ANYONE. New money can agree with me on this one.”

All eyes turned to you, expectant of your answer. Anxiousness creeps onto your skin as the spotlight is put on you, all your anger dissipating as Mai’s gaze burns deep into your soul, waiting for you to agree with her. As much as you’re usually going toe to toe with Mai, you know your spot with the IT girls was still tentative. This is one of the arguments that could make or break you; while she loves being challenged, Mai will never forgive you if you show sympathy for any person she considers beneath her status.

On one hand, you could risk Mai genuinely hating you and making her your enemy by telling her the truth, that Hana truly has more talent than Mai ever will.

On the other hand…

You plucked your phone from Momo’s hand, taking a good look at the picture before throwing your phone aside dramatically, gagging in disgust. “Ewwww, that’s the girl that wears that ugly sweater from Costco three times a week. I hope her acting isn't as ugly as her fashion sense.”

Your comment breaks the tension, making the three girls - yes even Miwa - bark with laughter, nearly losing their minds at your reaction, sealing the deal. You settle into a small smile as the pledge brings your drinks to the table, placing your frappuccino in front of you. You carefully sip your drink, washing down the bitter taste of guilt with its sweetness.

‘Keep your friends close and wealthy friends with connections closer.’

   ZENIN Megumi hated Trending Tuesdays on the T with a burning passion.

He hated a lot of things, to be fair, but this was at the top of the list of things he hated. It was like a dick measuring contest that some of his classmates did in high school, only on a much larger scale involving a bunch of grown adults who should be doing something better than watching the latest trend on a thinly veiled gossip blog masquerading as the school’s website.

The fraternity usually got louder during Trending Tuesdays, hollering about the newest girl they considered hot and who was not or what guy did the craziest thing. Usually on these kinds of days, Megumi would go up to his private room and smoke whilst blasting music or playing League of Legends, but now as the president of his fraternity, he has responsibilities. He has to be present, even if it killed him on the inside, at least to encourage this stupid bonding activity or whatever his vice-president, Yuuji Itadori told him.

“Aren’t you going to show the slightest interest in Trending Tuesdays?”

Speak of the devil.

Megumi turns his attention from the book he’s reading, “The Godfather” to Yuuji Itadori. The pink haired man had always been there for him since Megumi moved schools; even as he fell into deeper darkness as he spent more time with the Zenins, he and that crazy bitch Nobara stood beside him. Yuuji was the more fun one, much more cut out to be the president of the Fraternity in Megumi’s opinion, even though he’d say otherwise. He has been so invested in Trending Tuesdays as a tradition and perhaps that’s why he wants Megumi to be more involved this year.

“You want me to huddle over a phone with other guys to see what girl half of the fraternity will jerk off to tonight?” Megumi crosses his arms. He knows he’ll cave eventually because it’s Yuuji, but he’s not going to make it easy for him either. “Isn’t my presence while this madness is going on in the common room enough?”

“Come onnnn! Toge’s gonna put it on the TV anyways so you won’t have to rub shoulders with people” Yuuji groans childishly, making the dark haired man roll his eyes in response. Sometimes his friend can be so irritating whenever he wants him to do something, especially if it involves socialising with people. “We just have one more year before we graduate, aren’t you in the slightest curious about it?”

“No.”

“But it’s like a team bonding exercise! Besides, you might see a girl you’ll actually like in this school.”

Megumi almost wants to laugh at Yuuji’s statement. It’s just as ridiculous as the elders in the Zenin family who keep insisting for him to at least have a main girl so that the future of their bloodline is secure. Only that Yuuji thinks that Megumi is only sleeping with different girls cause he hasn’t found the right one yet.

At least the Zenin’s are not naïve to his real intentions.

“As long as it's not school sanctioned, I don’t care.”

His blunt tone deflates Yuuji’s cheerful mood once more and for a brief moment Megumi thinks he’s worn Yuuji down, returning to read his book in peace.

“PleasePleasePleasePleasePlease-”

Sick of Yuuji’s incessant nagging, the dark haired man barked out “I’m coming, I’m coming!” throwing the novel aside and storming off, Yuuji following behind with a shit eating grin.

  THE second he enters the common room, the once chattering room goes silent.

Megumi isn’t new to his frat brothers fearing him. He is not a particularly friendly face with his usual grumpy expression and towering height, and he has the personality to match, quiet with a stern personality. It could be his policies that make them instantly shape up whenever he is around, scared that he’d lash out at them at any moment or expel them for the slightest mistake.

It’s not like their fears are unfounded though. But he only punishes annoyances and as long as they stay out of his way and his room, they’re safe.

They clear the way for him and Yuuji, letting them walk to the largest chair in the common room, greetings of “Good day President” “Good day vice-president” echoing throughout the room. Yuuji is the only one that responds, telling them to loosen up. “We’re just here for trending Tuesdays. No one’s gonna get in trouble today for being rowdy, right, Zenin?”

“We’ll see.”

A white haired male was already perched on their usual seat, brows pinched in concentration as he connected his phone's bluetooth to the television. The man raised his head, his sour expression quickly turning to shock when he saw Megumi standing in front of him. He looked from Megumi  to Yuuji, discarding his phone to put a hand in front of his face, bending his fingers in and out, his lips mimicking Megumi’s usual grouchy frown.

“How the hell did you get Mr. Grumpy out of his room for Trending Tuesday? You didn’t offer him a free fuck like one of his whores, right?”

Megumi felt his eye twitch as Yuuji snorted at the comment. before rapidly signing back. “Fuck you, Toge.”

Toge rolled his eyes at Megumi in response, before moving aside so that he and Yuuji could sit and the common room goes back to their chattering as before when they realise Megumi wasn’t doing any official duties today.

Toge Inumaki was a senior majoring in robotics engineering, their fraternities treasurer, as well as a grade one menace to society.

People make the mistake of assuming he’s a quiet guy because he doesn’t say anything and think he’s this sort of mysterious and cool person who keeps to himself, not knowing that he’s mute, deaf in his right ear and partially deaf in his left, always donning his hearing aids. Toge doesn’t bother clearing up the rumours, rather taking glee in watching people try to get close to him to get him to ‘open up’, only to be horrified when they realise his disability and feel immense guilt right after.

Yuuji had tried talking him out of it, but he defended his actions with, “That’s what they get for treating me like a social experiment. They wanna be friends with the quiet rich kid to get favours.”

Megumi doesn’t blame him. Ever since meeting Toge, when he moved high schools, he knew that people either treat him as the introverted project they want to take on or the poor disabled kid who no one understands, but never a human being.

Sometimes, people would straight up not believe him that he can’t hear them without his aid because he’s “too cute to be disabled”.

Even his parents are weird around him, never once attempting to learn sign language themselves since it would be too ‘tasking’.

It hasn’t damped Toge’s sense of humour regardless. Anyone who knows Toge and knows sign language knows that the white haired man is a talkative with a filthy mouth. He’s a prankster and pledges are advised to avoid him, seeing as they’re the most susceptible to his rather cruel jokes.

Girls seem to like him though, if the irritating screams of pleasure that keeps everyone else up at night every time he has a study partner were anything to go by.

Toge goes straight to the school’s website, the T and the website comes up, a large TRENDING TUESDAY typed in cursive letters was at the top of the blog post. Realising that he was out of his element, Megumi turns to Yuuji to ask “So how does this work again?”

“Well, trending Tuesdays are all about who is or are the most influential students in school today. Whether it’s pranks, or the cutest couple or even someone that did something impressive today, it all depends on who had the most impact. They write a short blurb and say something about the person.” Yuuji doesn’t turn his attention away from the screen as he continues. “You’ve always been in the top three since you entered this school.”

“Is that so?”

Megumi shrugs nonchalantly, a small smile on his lips. Sure, he hates the T and thinks it’s a pointless program but being at the top without even trying feeds his large ego a little bit.

Toge scrolls up the page, ignoring the people at the hundredth place because they’re obviously irrelevant and gets to the top twenty. A picture of a girl with white hair in short bob wearing a white sweater and black pants in one picture, and a blonde wig in another wearing a hot pink suit in another comes up.

‘Hana Kurusu, the head of the theatre club is the first to spearhead a high end production of legally blonde. While we’re really happy for her, let’s not get our hopes up, this play is going to be garbage fire-’

Megumi quickly tunes out the rest of the post and the rest of the frat talking about how the musical will be dog shit, not really interested in anything about Hana. Sure, she’s a decent fuck and she does whatever he wants, including keeping her mouth shut about their arrangement but that didn’t mean he cared about her.

“Damn, they really ripped the theatre kids a new one. I don’t think they deserve that” Yuuji murmurs.

“The T didn’t lie, I tried giving theatre a chance for a hot girl who was super into it. I ended up taking off my hearing aids mid-performance because I didn’t pay to hear such shit acting”

“Toge!”

“It was a shame, she had really nice tits but she can’t sing or act for shit. Instant turn off. Why do something you’re shit at?”

Megumi nods in agreement, replying to Toge’s argument. “Only broke kids join theatre to be part of something. The fee is low and they think they’ll make it in Hollywood since they schooled here.”

The rest of the top 15 were uneventful, apart from Yuuji at number 6 who practically broke a school record in track and field, set up by the fastest runner in ‘08, Zenin Naoya - Megumi’s shitty cousin amongst the sea of shit family members he has.

As usual, Yuuji shrugs it off despite everyone screaming in shock and congratulating him, saying it's not a big deal. Maybe it’s because he’s a beast at almost every sport he touches that he’s so humble with his achievement. All his years of knowing Yuuji from high school, he has always remained humble and friendly, never letting his success get to his head.

He’s sure if Naoya ever finds out, he’d be pissed.

Good.

Finally they make it to the top five, the most anticipated people that everyone is always curious about. Usually, the top five is not just about achievements, it’s about looks, it’s about charisma, it about how much people thirst over them.

They encapsulate the true shallowness of the student body.

‘At number five, it’s Momo Nishimiya. Winning the debate nationals and making it as the head of the national model UN, there are big things awaiting the beauty with brains from the IT girls group. I’m sure I see another cherry red sports car in ms. Nishimiya’s future or another trip to the Bahamas as a celebration! Make sure to post those Bikini pics babe’

“Preferably the latter.” Some of the frat boys murmured, their voices dripping with lust that it’s nearly pathetic. “I’ve got to see her in a bikini again or I’ll kill myself.”

‘I hope you do, you’re actually annoying.’

Megumi doesn’t stop them from being nasty little perverts though. In his opinion, it's just the way boys talk, especially when they’re with their fellow guys.

It’s not like they mean any harm by being horny.

‘At number four, making it to the cover of Independent and a guest appearance on the Tonight Show, Mai Zenin. Well, are we really surprised to see ms. hot stuff, perfect ass at the top?

Running the school with an Iron fist, Mai, the leader of the IT girls has always maintained her relevance from the second she won an olympic gold medal in shooting range. A mixture of grace and smarts, there is always a spot for her in the top five.’

Megumi sighs the second he sees Mai’s magazine cover; wearing a rather sexualized version of a chesogam, she leans on a chair with her legs crossed, the long slit giving view of her long legs. Her smile is sultry, never reaching her eyes.

He has never seen her ever smile genuinely before in all the time he spent in the Zenin household. Not that he blames her, the way they treated women in that place was nothing to smile about.

The frat boys all but bark at her pictures, each hungry for something, shouting profainities about how much they want to fuck her. Itadori opens his mouth to say something, but Megumi clamps a hand over his shoulders and tells him to settle down. “Don’t worry, let them have their fun. It’s nothing serious.”

Normally Megumi would stop them, but he thinks they’re cute. They’re so cute thinking they even have a chance with Mai of all people. If there was something Megumi liked about Mai, it was that she had standards.

If she was going to be treated like shit, might as well be treated like shit wearing Louis Vuitton and Hermes.

He turns his attention to the next one on the list and his smile instantly drops the second he sees Maki at number 3. The T has a weird habit of pitting Maki and Mai against each other, and while Maki wouldn’t care about this shit, Mai does.

The Zenin’s had imprinted it that women must be in constant competition for affection because how much they are loved is how much they are valued. Maki thinks everything the Zenin says is bullshit, including that whole line about affection. Mai, however, is a different story. She has internalised that information so much that she spends so much time caring about her reputation to her detriment.

‘At the proud number three is our nationi8nal MMA champion, Maki Zenin! This week she defeated the previously undefeated title holder, Sena. I’m not usually into muscular women but goddamn does she look hot while beating in someone’s face with her fists. Step on me mommy-’

Uncomfortable with reading the rest of that sentence, Megumi quickly signs desperately with Yuuji laughing at him in the background. “Scroll up, scroll up.”

Luckily for him, Toge also seemed uncomfortable because the last thing he wants to see is someone thirsting over his best friend and scrolling away, landing on the number two name on the list.

‘And coming up to the number two is Zenin Megumi, the school’s resident mysterious hottie who happens to be recruiting new pledges for the Alpha Beta frat house.

How he divides his time between posing for the house of Gojo’s fashion line, shirtless and at the same time stays on top of his business class is some what a mystery, not that I’m complaining though cause FUCK HE’S HOT…’

Megumi groans in his hands as a picture of him posing shirtless with flared jeans, whilst manspreading comes on screen for the entire frat house to see.

The entire house grows quiet, before whispers of “is it okay to have a crush on our president- in a manly kind of way?” And “he looks so majestic, that’s our president! I need his gym routine-” start floating in the air, only making Megumi grow more annoyed, almost as if he’s not in the room with them.

Yuuji places a hand on his shoulder with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying watching Megumi suffer. “Don’t be shy. You should be proud of your-”

“Shut the fuck up and tell Toge to get that shit off the screen before I hear another person ask if it’s okay they get off to pictures of me.”

Amused, Yuuji turns to Toge, signing Megumi’s message to which he lets out a weird snort like laughter, before scrolling up to the moment everyone has been waiting for: The number one spot. He can hear some people drawing in a deep breath, waiting for the next person until the blurb flashes on the screen.

“At the number one spot; the stunning beauty of University that has gripped our hearts and our nether regions. Voted the sexiest girl on campus the second we saw her in the freshman group taking a tour, (Name) (Last name)-Nanami!

Dressed in a cute Juicy Couture that makes her ass look juusst right, (name) has taken the entire school and the socialite scene by storm.

By the way, happy belated eighteenth birthday princess. Now that you are legal, I can proudly say I and the majority of the guys in this school have jerked off to your birthday bikini pics with zero guilt. And also, thanks to you the juicy couture section in the mall not too far away and the goodwill a few blocks over is sold out. You’re an icon babe, keep being you.’

��FUCK YES IT’S HER AGAIN!”

“Please, please, please marry me (name), I’ll dump my girlfriend for you! Fuck I’ll set a car on fire for you-”

“I hope her nudes leak or something, that’s the only way I’ll see her naked because she’s way too good for me.”

Megumi doesn’t think too much of it, ignoring all the crazy things his fraternity brothers are saying. But someone else has an opposite opinion.

“Oh God, not her again.”

Megumi raises a brow, curious at Yuuji’s reaction. It was strange for the friendly man to sound so annoyed over someone, especially somebody so new to this school and seemingly beloved by the student body. Usually, he’s the one to have qualms about the person and Yuuji would have to talk him into being less suspicious about the person.

His friend had no malicious bone in his body. Or maybe there’s a side to Yuuji even he doesn’t know about.

“You don’t sound too happy.”

“No… that’s not what… you don’t know who she is, do you?” His pink haired friend only groans in response, increasingly getting more agitated for some reason. Megumi shakes his head negatively in response and Yuuji sighs. “Remember when my dad got married like last year? That’s my step-mom’s daughter … my step-sister.”

“Oh”

Back in December it was trending news that the owner of the best winery in the world, Nanami Kento was getting married to a deaf, single mother. The Zenin’s were pissed because Nanami chose ‘damaged goods’ over the barely legal teen they arranged so that they could partner with him. But since Megumi wasn’t interested in such a topic and he was just happy the elders were miserable that winter, he didn’t bother to look into it.

No wonder Yuuji looked more irritated with every passing moment. The pink haired boy always seemed to be concerned about his family members whenever the tabloids said something nasty about them and was fiercely protective of them. It could be why Yuuji doesn’t bring her around the fraternity house or barely mentions her, so that people won’t try to use him to get to her.

“She’s just eighteen Megs.” Yuuji’s grave tone rouses Megumi from his thoughts. Poor guy, it’s really bothering him, what’s going on with his sister. “It’s not been up to three months since she got here and the comments the T has made about her body are disgusting. She pretends like it doesn’t bother her but I’m sure that she hates it deep down.”

He can relate to Yuuji right now; back in high school he would overhear guys talking about how much they want to screw his sister.

Unlike Yuuji though, he wasn’t as patient.

“Don’t think too much about the T’s comments” Megumi reaches a comforting hand to Yuuji. Even though he’s sure the girl doesn’t give a damn about his friend, he has to ease the pink haired man’s nerves somehow. “Maybe she truly doesn’t think it’s too much of a big deal. She could be like that, you never know. Plus you know how the T is. They’re obsessed with the next hot thing and then they fall out of love with it.”

Besides, Megumi figures you’re just a shiny new thing that’s trending now. And the thing about trends is that when there’s nothing interesting or fantastic about them, they die out. ‘Yuuji has nothing to worry about’ he muses to himself. ‘You’re probably not that pretty to last long-’

The second Toge puts your picture on the screen, Megumi finds himself eating his words.

The admiration of your image by the other frat members becomes nothing but background noise as he stares at the t.v utterly transfixed. Your features were distinct in a way that could only be described as ethereal, breathtaking, exotic. You’re wearing cute juicy couture sweats, something he thinks looked utterly tacky and overdone by all the blond girls in this school and yet you make it look expensive, like you’re the only one he wants to see it on. Your lips are pulled into a pretty smile that lights up your eyes, only highlighting your best features like your cheeks and your nose.

He’s not one for looks, but by god you were one of the most gorgeous girls he’s ever set his eyes on.

“No wonder you keep hiding her from us.” Toge signs, also nearly astonished by how beautiful you look. “Your sister is fucking hot man.”

“Not you too, Toge, she’s barely eighteen, leave her alone-”

Megumi ignores the argument going on behind him, opting to keep looking at your picture. As much as he’s captivated by your beauty, there’s this nagging feeling at the back of his mind that there’s something familiar about you. He can’t shake off the coincidence that you have the same first and last name as someone he used to know and you look like the prettier version of that person.

‘It can’t be her.’ He denies it in his head. The girl that he knew all those years ago would never have been able to afford this university’s tuition without incurring a huge debt. She’d care too much about hurting her single mom’s finances. He keeps staring at the picture and notices you’re holding up your boba drink in one hand, revealing the bracelets on your wrist, which he didn’t pay attention to at first, until something purple and pink catches his eye.

‘That looks really cheap for her to be wearing- wait.’

He squints his eyes a little bit and sees the four letters written on the bracelet “GUMI” boldy.

His mouth groes dry instantly.

‘No fucking way.’

There was a distant past where he was much more free to do whatever he wanted and he didn’t have to worry about the responsibility of taking over the Zenin’s chain of businesses. There were many faceless people in that high school. There were people he brutally beat senseless and there were people who either feared or admired him from afar.

But you were the most memorable because you were a clingy little bitch.

While others avoided him like a plague, you were always beside him, offering to be his “friend” and following him around like fucking insect. You were a pimple-faced, annoying little tramp that he could barely stand.

He could have avoided your affection if he didn’t beat up your bullies that day. He should have never pitied you when he saw you crying in the boys bathroom. It would have saved him the headache of being stuck with you for almost two years in high school.

The only reason he tolerated you for as long as he did was because of Tsumiki. In hindsight, he blames his deceased sister for encouraging your borderline obsession with him because she thought it was cute. He wonders if romantically and mentally you’ve changed. If you’ve grown out of your childish crush on him and forgotten all about your “Gumi” and “Fushiguro-kun”, the things you used to call him with your shrill voice.

When he left that dreaded Academy, he made sure that no one called him “Gumi” ever. He resented that nickname, because it reminded him of you.

You looked happy, fitting right into a society that once rejected you with your pretty hair and manicured nails. Long gone was the wimp that hid behind him, that had to rely on food stamps on your worst days; now you’re a spoiled little brat, having the time of your life without inheriting the responsibility of being a wealthy socialite like he did.

It just made Megumi hate you even more. While he’s stuck with the Zenin clan and paying the price of wealth, you don’t have to do anything. You’re happy. How the hell is any of that fair to him?

Why do you get to be happy?

“You’re staring a bit too hard at the picture, Zenin. Don’t tell me you wanna fuck her too?”

He considers telling the pink haired man that he knew you and all about your pathetic crush on him for a brief moment, but quickly discarded that plan. Like Tsumiki, Yuuji would get the wrong idea and try to get them together.

Instead he rolled his eyes and said in the most bland voice he could muster.

“Not my type.”

Yuuji looks at the tips of Megumi’s ears, noticing them turn red  before looking at the boy again with narrowed eyes.

“Sure.”

  YOU hated dinners with your ‘family’.

Your step-dad, Nanami Kento was not much of a conversationalist and he ate in silence, except to ask to pass the water jug. Your mother was a try-hard, always asking how school is like for both you and Yuuji, like you’re teenagers attending high school and not university students. Yuuji was also a try hard, answering your mother’s questions like his life depended on it.

And you? You don’t want to be here.

You love your mother and would do anything for her. She sacrificed so much for you so that you’d have an education, working so many jobs and encouraging you. Sure, she was a bit harsh on you when it came to your academics and you used to hate it, but you understood back then that she was giving you a chance she never had. With your father a deadbeat and your family members a bunch of self-righteous losers, it was you and her against the world.

But trying to play house with a step-father you barely knew and a brother who would never speak to you on school grounds was tethering on the edge of your patience that you feel lucky that you only have to do this once a week.

Couple that with the stressful day you had in university from dealing with Mai, to the disgusting and perverted comment section on your trending tuesdays posts -that Mai told you to “get used to it” when you said you hated them and wanted it to stop, to nearly being late in submitting an assignment only to be told “looks can only get you so far” as if you’re not trying your hardest in school, you’re just about done with everything.

All you want to do is eat and sleep in your own bed.

The only good thing about your dinner is the unripe plantain, your favourite meal and you’re shocked the chefs made it after debating with your mother about making ethnic foods for her. Maybe your step-father had some choice words with them.

“So how’s school been for you baby girl?”

You internally groan at your mother’s question as your step-father and Yuuji turn their attention towards you. “It’s okay.” you sign back, before continuing with your food, hoping that your mother would get the message that you don’t want to talk about it.

As your luck could have it, your mother did not like the reply. “What do you mean, Okay?” she signs, her brows pinched together in irritation. “That’s not an answer (name).”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh come on baby (name), you’re in college, you should be having fun. I heard from some sources you’re very popular in your school which means you’ve got to have friends right? Why don’t you invite them over? Hell, you should have also met someone cute too that piques your interest or are you still pining over Gumi-”

There’s a tense atmosphere that cuts across the once awkward sphere of the table. Your step father stopped eating the second he saw the enraged look on your face, and his hands facing your mother trying to tell her to “stop-” only for her to aggressively shake her head in dismal, her next words pushing you over the edge. “No, Kento! She’s our child and I have to ask her what she’s been up to-”

“You really want to know what I’ve been up to, mom?” You start to sign, your hands trembling in anger. “You want to know how I’m doing in my business course where no one takes me seriously because I’m too pretty to be smart? Or you want to know how many ‘cute guys’ have threatened to assault me sexually or said something perverted about my body on a school post and how the school refused to take it down when I reported it? Or how I feel so out of place when you seem so well-adjusted with your husband and son, and your only solution is to throw a new black card at me and hope I’m obedient? You really want to know?”

The entire dining table grows silent at your outburst by the time you’re done, heavily breathing as tears threaten to prickle your eyes. Your mother’s features soften, clearly affected by your words and for a second you feel guilty for getting angry at her. Instead, you said out loud whilst tossing your cutlery aside “I’m going to my room. Don’t bother me.” and disappeared up the stairs despite your step father calling out your name until you made it to your room.

Flopping onto your canopy bed the second you enter your room, you’re quick to bury your head in your pillow and let out a guttural scream that you’ve been holding all day. At this point, you don’t care that you’re being rude, your life took a drastic turn the second you turned seventeen and you’ve just been pretending to be okay with it. After years of it just being you and her, these two men barged into your life. You had to up and move from the friends you had finally managed to make, from all your plans to attend a community college for music to an expensive overpriced university in a business course that you hate and from your home that had all your memories into a large mansion that makes you feel insignificant.

You were quickly shuffled into a lifestyle that made you stand out because you weren’t born into money. You had to mingle with people who reminded you of your bullies in high school and laugh with them like you’re not a step from having a mental breakdown, because you need to be significant, you need to network and fit in. You had to pretend you were fine because if you act out the media will drag your mother’s name in the mud.

And you’re all alone dealing with your feelings. Who were you going to tell how inauthentic you felt? How so out of place you felt despite your popularity and you just want to escape it all?

Mai would just tease you for being overdramatic. Momo would tell you that it is what it is as a female socialite and you should swallow it. Maybe Miwa might be sympathetic to your cause but then you remembered she’s supposed to be editing her posts for tiktok tomorrow, so there is no time for you.

There was only one person who would have truly understood and you haven’t seen him in five years.

Feeling nostalgic, you lean over your bed and retrieve a box from underneath. Carefully punching in the code, it opens with a quiet click revealing an old cream sweater kept in good condition, your high school’s logo stitched at the top, three pictures you got at a fair and your old iphone 4 that seems to still work, that all seem so reminiscent of a time so far away yet so close.

Long before you were the IT girl, before you were new money, the girl everyone wants and wants to be.

It was a time when things were so dark that you couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel because you were relentlessly bullied for not being fortunate enough to have money in a school where the rich eat the vulnerable. You had considered ending it all, to stop your mom from constantly coming to school to complain only to return feeling more powerless than ever.

And then he came into your life.

You take the sweater in your arms, gently pressing your nose against the fabric to inhale his scent, preserving it all these years just for comfort. It takes you back to when you were 13, huddled up in a bathroom stall while cradling your broken fingers. You hated life so much back then and you really wanted to die to the point you were googling how many acetamin pills it would take to kill you with your uninjured hand, the bottle containing them just a few feet away from your shaking body. You couldn’t play the harp that you loved because of them, you couldn’t take the emotional abuse and you couldn’t return home to break your mother’s heart by being a pathetic child.

You were planning to die in a boys bathroom stall, ready to swallow the pill when the door flew open. You instantly cowered in fear, spilling the entire bottle on the floor, your heart dropping to your stomach the second you set eyes on the school’s resident bully.

Fushiguro Megumi.

Back then you assumed he was going to laugh at you and then tell everyone what you tried to do. As much as you admired him from afar, you didn’t trust him. You couldn’t trust him. Maybe he was going to kick you aside and take a piss like one other guy had done when you were still barely conscious from earlier.

You didn’t expect him to notice your broken fingers. Or even ask you who did the bullying. And when he did, you had begged him not to get the teacher involved, to which he said. “Who said I’m telling anyone?” before disappearing. You were scared, wondering if he’d call them back to finish the job.

Instead, he dragged the bullies -male and female back to the bathroom for you to watch him beat them up and broke the arm of the guy who crushed your fingers. After he was done, he had taken your unbroken hand in his larger ones to help you up, warmth spreading into your shaking fingers as he steadied you, telling you to step on them.

“W-why?”

“Revenge. Catharsis. Fun.” he had said, his tone rueful. You looked at him with pure fear as he guided you to one the bullies, the girl who started it all. “B-but what if I get in trouble? Or they come for me and hurt me again-”

“Don’t be a square. I’m giving you a chance for payback, so be a good girl and take it.”

“B-but-”

“Do it. I’ll take the blame.”

And true to his word, he did take the blame for both your actions and was suspended for a day. When he came back, you clung onto him like glue, fearful you’d get hurt by those same bullies, but eventually giving way into your heart as you fell head over heels for him. The way he smiled when you said the dumbest stuff. The way his voice sounded, especially when he called your name. The way his hand swallows yours because of how big they were, his comforting scent, everything about Megumi was calming, comforting.

Even your first kiss with him was gentle, sparks flying as he cupped your face in his larger hands.

He could be a bit harsh on you and sometimes, he could say some mean things, he always made it up with some sweet gesture like buying your favourite strawberry drink or spending time with you while you practised the harp.

You loved him so much. You still love him so much. You can’t look at any man the way you looked at him, and you’ve tried. Mai has tried shoving you into a relationship with many guys to try and spice up your reputation but you couldn’t let them even hold your hand, let alone kiss them.

They’re not him. They’ll never be him.

Megumi was not the light at the end of your tunnel, but he took your broken hands in his and let you dance through the thick of the dark times of your life when no one else thought you deserved happiness.

You shed off your juicy couture jacket and shrug on his large sweater, collapsing into your bed with your arms wrapped around yourself. Any time you were upset with anything, you would call him and he’d either listen to you through your sobs or come over to your little house and sneak in with your favourite snacks to watch a movie with you and hold you tight whenever you said you wanted a hug. You wish he hadn’t disappeared when he moved away, that he had at least left you with a number for you to call or text or anything instead of upping and leaving cold turkey.

Tears rolled down your face as you tried to picture him comforting you, over everything that had happened. “Want me to fuck them up?” He’d ask in between murmurs and when you’d shake your head no, he’d click his tongue. He always loved solving problems with violence. “I should, for the way they’re talking to you. You shouldn’t let people take advantage of you.”

‘I miss you Megumi. I miss you so much-’

A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts and you’re quick to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. Not wanting any pity from whoever was at the door -most likely your mother- you put on your best resting bitch face before storming towards it before yanking it open.

Your frown only deepens when you see your step-father at the door. “Did she put you up to this?” Your voice was cold and from how his brows creased in response, you could see he was hurt.

He shakes his head negatively in response, about to say something when you cut him off again. “The dad thing is not going to work, just leave me be.”

You close the door in his face, albeit rudely and flopped on your bed, curling yourself up into a tight ball and sobbing quietly until you fall asleep.

YOUR step-father’s solution to you being upset is to throw money at your face and tell you to ‘do something nice for yourself’.

Mid-class you had received a cash-app alert attached with a message for you to ‘cheer up with this and tell Yuuji to take you shopping.’ and while it annoyed you to no end that he assumed money made you happy, he wasn’t exactly wrong.

You also suspect that he wants you to open up to Yuuji about your problems, as you both are closer in age; which is a dumb plan in hindsight because you know you’re not going to say shit to someone you barely interact with. Step-brother or not.

The second class dismissed you were out of the door, your Hermes bag slung over your arm. Perhaps your step-dad was right about retail therapy, you needed something to blow off steam with after the depressing night you had; being forced to relive your entire day and then cry yourself to sleep thinking about how much you miss Megumi so much.

What you need is to turn off your brain and buy new things that would make you happy, like new trinkets to add to your room.

Feeling giddy, you pick up your phone and go to the IT girls group chat, ready to invite them to your shopping spree since you didn’t want to go on your shopping spree all alone.

“I should text the girls to see if they’ll hang out with me-”

You paused, stopping yourself in your tracks. You’re trying to have fun, not be silently judged and have pictures taken of your spree and uploaded on the internet for weirdos to oogle.

“I need time alone, but not alone alone” you say to yourself. “Yuuji’s the better option, at least he’ll keep to himself if he sees I’m not in the mood to talk.”

With that decision finalised, you found Yuuji’s contact - Yuuji 🏀- and quickly shot him a text that you needed a ride to the mall right now, if he’s free.

“With that done, I’ll get myself strawberry yoghurt to go-”

Your phone dings just as you’re about to tuck it in your bag and you see it’s Yuuji who had replied faster than you anticipated.

Yuuji 🏀 - I’ll be free in an hr, my class will soon be over

Yuuji 🏀- wait in my room at the frat house, I’ll pick you up there.

You frowned. Why the hell will you wait at a fraternity house? For all you know, they’re nothing but nasty, filthy little perverts. Frat bros have a bad reputation, being gross pieces of shit who have no personal boundaries and get away with anything. Mai always told you that they’re a slippery slope and the chances of you meeting a decent one is as good as pigs flying.

You🧋- Heck no. What if something happens to me there?

Yuuji 🏀 - Look, I need to pick you up and drop you off by 3pm before my next class starts and I don’t wanna waste any time

Yuuji 🏀 - besides my friends are there and they know you’re coming. No one will hurt you.

You 🧋- Fine. I’ll be there waiting. Not a minute late or I’ll rip your jlaw posters apart

Abandoning your plan of getting strawberry yoghurt with a secret promise you’d get it later at the mall, you decided to make your way to the Alpha Beta Frat house, much to your chagrin.

  AFTER hitching a ride with the school’s shuttle system within five minutes, you find yourself standing in front of the famed Alpha-Beta house.

The four story building was imposing to say the least, but there wasn’t a challenge you’ve ever backed down from. You casually strolled through the path leading to the front door, grabbing the brass handle and slamming it as hard as possible on the door twice.

‘They ought to hear me that way.’

Sure enough, someone shuffled with the door a few seconds later and opened it, complaints on their lips as the gap widened.

“Who the fuck is knocking on the door like tha- oh-oh h-hey-”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his sudden change of behaviour. You could recognize him from one of your electives, psychology 101 with professor Getou. He usually makes a fool of himself there as he is doing right now, practically drooling all over himself on the front porch like a mangy mutt.

As much as you’d like to watch him pant like a dog and laugh at him later, you couldn’t stand staying outside any longer.

“Where’s Yuuji Itadori’s room?” You ask curtly.

“Uh… the l-last floor, the door on the far end of the left… o-or was it r-right...”

‘Fucking moron’ you curse internally, before putting on a fake, thankful smile on your face and pushed past the awestruck man to get into the house. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out, myself.”

The house was neat, surprisingly, compared to the horrific stories you used to hear from Mai about how filthy fraternity houses are, especially the Alpha beta house under Todo’s rule. As you gingerly walk up the stairs, you notice how not a speck of dust nor a single graffitti lies on the wall, like everything had been polished and cleaned constantly.

Yuuji had made an off comment about the new president being a clean freak and would beat anyone up for leaving as much as wrapping paper on the floor without picking it up. “It runs in the Zenin’s I guess.” He had signed on a particular dinner night. “The last Zenin leader had done the exact same thing.”

As much as you hate the Zenin men and have never heard anything good about them, you have to be grateful that this one was dedicated to keeping the damn house clean. Even the frat bros look well dressed in their polo and shorts, and didn’t reek like beer or weed - although you caught some of them looking at you like a piece of meat.

‘At least they don’t try to talk to me. Must be out of respect for Yuuji.’

Eventually you make it to the top floor with two hallways stretching out on either side. You contemplated going to the left for a few seconds, but ultimately headed towards the right, figuring that Yuuji’s room could be there and if it wasn’t, you would just go the other way. You stop at the door at the end of the room, assuming that it’s the right one and open it without knocking.

The first thing that hit you was the fresh scent of jasmines and apricot, two flavours that you would never expect to be mixed together, but worked so well. You took in the surroundings of the large room next, admiring the rather dark academic route it took in terms of design with the large brown curtains hanging over the windows, the low level lighting hanging above your head. The closet was large and the doors were made out tempered, coloured glass, a rather brave choice but it seemed to contribute to the overall look of the room.

Seeing a couch with a coffee table at a corner, you decided to set your bag aside there while you admired the rest of the properties. You never took him for someone who’d have such a good taste for details, especially in terms of decor but he seemed to have exceeded your expectations of him. Even the floor is made up of mahogany wood board as opposed to the rest of the marble floors in the house.

You walk up to the medium sized reading table, admiring the hanging shelves over it stacked with books. The table was as clean as the rest of the room, each knick-knack and stationery arranged accordingly. Your eyes caught sight of the trophy case standing next to the closet in its own case and you walked up to it, admiring the sheer size. It was to be expected, since he had been on the varsity of his school team and was really good at sports. You take up one hand and trace a line over the case, carefully looking at the achievements.

“1st place at the Wimbledon championship, Male singles”

‘Interesting, I didn’t know Yuuji played tennis. I thought he mostly focused on basketball and track and field in school- oh, oh no-’

The second you read the next line your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Zenin Megumi”

Fuck, you were the wrong room. You should have known, the level organisation of this room and the lack of Jennifer Lawrence posters on the wall was too suspicious.

“I need to get out of this room as fast as possible-”

“What the hell are you doing in my room?”

As if things couldn’t get any worse.

Your body grew rigid at the sound of a male voice right behind you, too scared to turn around, sweating bullets despite the air conditioning of the room at being caught red handed like a fucking creep in some random guys room.

‘Oh god, how am I going to explain myself that it was an accident and I was going to Yuuji’s room?’

“I’m very sure I asked you a question. What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

Wait. That voice.

They say when you spend time away from someone, you usually forget a lot of things, like their scent, the sound of their voice, and even the way they look. But not you. You remember that voice as clear as a day. You know that Megumi Fushiguro’s voice deepened rather early, you know that bored, dead tone from anywhere, even in your grave.

The dots began to connect in your head as you matched the name to his voice.

‘It can’t be…’ 

You turn around, heart thumping loudly in your chest as you turn to look at the man standing behind you, glossy eyes taking in the features. The dark spiky hair that always seemed difficult to maintain, the blue eyes staring down at you, the slope of his nose, his lips, even his imposing height - being far taller than all those years ago.

“Megumi?”

Tears of joy blind you to the way his jaw tenses and without thinking, you engulf him in a warm hug, pressing your teary face into his broad chest.

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve looked for you everywhere.” You blab, not realising how rigid he stood, not returning your hug. You assumed it’s because he’s not an affectionate person, and you’ve never minded it. “I missed you so much. I asked everyone that knew you and you were just gone-”

“Hey, Megs, have you seen my sister? I told her to wait for me in my room but I think she came into yours- oh, am I interrupting something?”

All it took was Yuuji coming into the room for you to be dragged back into reality, because Megumi is quick to place two hands on your shoulders, his grip nearly vice-like and pried you off himself before roughly shoving you towards your step brother. You let out a pained gasp as Yuuji catches you in time.

“Megumi what the fuck is your issue?”

You cannot see his facial expression, but you can feel his steely, unwelcoming gaze burning holes at the back of your head, making your heart drop further. “You’d do the same thing too if a random stranger hugged you out of nowhere.”

“She is not a stranger, she’s my sister and you don’t get to manhandle her the way you do to your other girls. Even if she’s in the wrong.”

“Well tell your step-sister to get her bag off my couch and take her out of here before I come back.” he snapped back.

You can’t believe your ears. Sure, you look different from how you did five years prior but was it so bad he couldn’t recognize you? 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when the dark haired man walks past you both and without thinking you push Yuuji away, attempting to follow him. Your step-brother comes between you and the door, holding you by your forearms to prevent you from following Megumi.

“No, (name), stop. Just tell me what’s going on-” 

You stay mute, evading Yuuji’s grasp and dash out of the door, following after Megumi. His legs were longer than yours and you had to speed up, nearly tripping on the stairs as you followed him into the common room, Yuuji not too far off. You reached him, grasping his wrist in a desperate attempt to get his attention. He freezes for a second but soon his shock turns to anger as he swivels his head to look at you.

“What the hell do you want?” He barked.

You flinch, remembering how frightening he could be when he lost his temper but push down your fear to look up at him, your gaze soft as you try to remind him that it's you. “G-gumi it's me!” You stutter out, trembling as you jumble through your words. “(Name) (last name)... w-we went to school together, you can recognize m-me right?”

It only seems like you’re making things worse, because he’s looking at you like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat and kill you for touching him. He yanks his hand away from you, his lips curled up in a sneer. “Keep following me around and you won’t be recognizable for long.”

No, no, this isn’t right. Sure Megumi was so hostile but not like this to you. He would never, ever threaten to put his hands on you, not even as a joke. This isn’t the Megumi you know, this cannot be the person you idolised, that you loved all those years.

This stranger is wearing Megumi’s face, saying things that your Gumi would never EVER say.

He walked away and you followed him down the stairs into the living room, ignoring the surprised stares of other frat members, watching you call after him desperately, “ ‘Gumi, Gumi! Wait, it’s me! I-i still have the bracelet we made together-” not caring how crazy you looked now. You need to understand why the hell Megumi was treating you like he’s never met you before, there has to be an explanation.

He doesn’t turn around or pay attention to your incessant cries, maintaining his ignorance. “Get lost. I don’t know you.” he says casually, almost as if he seems amused you’re embarrassing yourself. “Yuuji, get your crazy sister away from me.”

You feel lost, heart dropping to your feet at his words. Being reduced to nothing but a mere stranger after years of pining for him. Shame crawls up to your skin as you feel the entire house look at you like you’ve truly lost your mind for chasing after Megumi, humbling you completely. Yuuji catches up to you, a hand wrapped around your arm, trying to tug you away gently, but you’re rooted to the spot, unable to move.

‘T-there’s no way.’ Your head spins, trying to figure out what you did to offend him. Where did it all go wrong? Wasn’t this supposed to be the both of you reuniting? Rekindling your relationship? Even if he just acknowledged knowing you, you would have been satisfied. So why was he acting this way? ‘Does he truly not remember me? Or… is he… trying to pretend I don’t exist?’

There’s only one way to figure it out. There is one name that Megumi would answer to, no matter what.

“You say you don’t remember me, but we both know that’s not true.” You push Yuuji off again and tell him to stay out of it, taking a step forward with your back straight. It takes everything in you to keep your composure, not wanting to cry in front of these men. “Even after all these years, I can still tell it’s you. Have I changed so much you can’t recognize me?”

“Can you stop this madness-”

“Look me in eye and tell me that you don’t remember me Fushiguro-kun!”

The entire house goes silent. You’re breathing hard as Megumi abruptly stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to look at you. Your mouth goes dry when you see a flicker of fury in those blue eyes, before he masks it with a cold gaze.

“You really can’t take a hint, can you (name)? Years of maturing and you’re still so stupid.”

The way his tone is so even, without any hint of emotion feels like an ice bucket of water has been thrown on you. 

“Is that all you have to say?” Your voice is trembling as you look at him incredulously. “After disappearing for five fucking years on me without a trace? All this time, I cried and waited for you! I thought something bad had happened to you-”

“How is that my problem?”  He scoffed, now folding his arms across his chest, staring down at you like you’re the dirt beneath his feet and you instantly shrink underneath his gaze. “Don’t tell me you’re still obsessed with me? For five years? That’s really pathetic.”

Pathetic? How is it pathetic to be in love with someone who was supposed to love you back? Were you really pathetic to keep him in your heart all these years? “I-i don’t understand, y-you asked me to be your girlfriend right before you left! Y-you said you liked me-”

“We were in high school. I was a horny teenager and you were there. I said something nice so that I could mess around with you.” He groaned, uncaring that his words were hurting you. That he was admitting to just seeing you as a means to an end. “Don’t tell me all these years you believed the shit I said about liking you?”

‘This can’t be right.’ Your eyes are wide with shock, unable to comprehend the madness coming out from his mouth. Each word that he uttered takes apart your fragile heart piece by piece until there is almost nothing left, your frustration and anger rising with the entire situation. ‘No, no- this isn’t Gumi. He-he’d never do this to m-me-’

“I-i kept the bracelet we both made, to carry u-us with each other-”

“You mean the one with your nickname you gave to me? I threw it away the second I left for a new school.” He looks down at your wrist, a wry smile forming on his lips as he chuckles darkly. “Seems like you still wear yours.”

Your face felt hot as all eyes fell on you, embarrassment flooding your features. Megumi had practically made it known that you were nothing to him and he didn’t even consider you once when he left, in front of all of his frat members, while you pined after him like a desperate girl.

Thinking back to high school, it made sense now that he never loved you. He was always cold to you until you begged him. He refused to be seen with you in public but would make out with you in hidden corners of the school, then go back to pretending he doesn’t know you in front of his friends.

For years you had this idealised version of your Gumi in your head but now you realised you chose to believe in your own delusions.

You kept his sweater, his pictures, his gifts in a special box and his memories in your heart. You cried over him until you got ill when he disappeared and you even tried to run away from home to find him. You refused to date guys Mai would push your way because you were waiting for him.

You gave away five years of your happiness crying over someone that hates you.

You watch through teary eyes as Megumi leans close enough to you until his breath tickles your ears, whispering in a harsh voice, just for you to hear.

“Did you really think I’d like you now because you’re dressed like a skank? Wear all the fancy clothes you want, you’ll always be an insecure whiny brat who looks for affection everywhere but won’t find it.”

“You’re lying.” You spit back. You want to hurt him back, to make him feel the same way he’s made you feel; angry, humiliated. “There are tons of guys who will be lining up to fuck me the second I give the green light.”

“Exactly. They’ll want to fuck you, but they’ll never ever date you.”

Any form of self-worth or self-confidence you might have built up, came crashing down the second he said those words. You’re left standing there as he stood upright again, frozen at the way his words managed to unearth the insecurities you’ve tried your best to hide. You look at Megumi with tears in your eyes, defiant before taking a deep breath and composing yourself, blinking away tears.

Five years ago, if he had said these things to you, you would have cried. But you’re not a kid and you’d be damned if you shed tears for him in front of all the Alpha Beta boys and looked more pathetic than you already were.

“Yuuji, pass me my bag.”

Your step-brother holds it out for you, and without looking, you snatched it out of his hand. At least, he’s not trying to act like a good brother and getting in between your fight with Megumi. Maybe he knows it would make the situation worse.

You look at Megumi again, your once adoring gaze turned to that of anger and sadness. By God, he had become more handsome than ever, but it seems the Zenin’s have rottened him to the core. You look at his eyes again and see that his eyes are dull, like there is no life in them; like he’s dealing with perpetual sadness. He was always depressed in high school and you considered using the fact he used to cut the pain away too often to hurt him, but ultimately decided against it.

You were not going down that road. You still loved him more than you wanted to hurt him, even if it felt pathetic to do so like he said.

“You’re right.” You begin, a sad smile forming on your lips. “I’m pathetic. But at least I’m not as miserable as you are. Have a nice life, Zenin.”

With that, you walk past him with your head held up high and leave the frat house with a forced smile, ignoring the way your legs felt like jelly. It’s not until you enter a shuttle towards the Kappa sorority house that the crushing weight of humiliation and betrayal wears you down that you burst into tears.

Bonus:

‘Fuck, (name), keep squeezing me like that, Shiittt’

Megumi knows he’s a piece of shit. Ever since he entered the Zenin household and shed his Fushiguro last name, he’s been hitting one low to another, seemingly unaware of where the rock bottom is. He knows he’s done abhorrent, corrupt things that normal people would scrunch their nose in disgust. The Zenin’s are never afraid to get their hands dirty and he had to learn that at an early age if he had any chance of surviving that household.

But this was a new low, even for him.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, hair sticking to his forehead, glistening down his muscular body. His hips give timed thrusts, angled just right to send pleasurable waves through his body, hitting the right spot for the girl under him. Each movement elicits a soft moan from Hana, muffled by the position she was in; face down on his king sized bed with his hand pressing her face against the pillow, her torso held up by his arm around it whilst his cock pistoned in and out of her poor abused pussy.

On a normal day, it fed his large ego if she was crying out his name for everyone to hear it. He secretly prided himself in ruining a girl, making her cry for him and then tossing her aside. And they always crawl back, eager to do whatever he wants and give in to his selfish needs, no matter how shitty he treats them.

But today, he didn’t want to hear Hana say his name. He wished it was you.

And by god he hated it. He hated you so much.

If there was anything about you that never changed, it’s how you saw through him. Right in high school, you always knew when he was upset, even when he didn't say anything or act out; those times you would sit in silence and push your favourite strawberry yoghurt in his hands to make him feel better. Even in the midst of him tearing you apart, you had the audacity to call him miserable.

And he knows you’re right, but hearing it come out from your mouth hurts him, opening up a part of him that he buried in his heart.

How dare you make him feel vulnerable?

He wishes it was you he had in this position, but instead of pushing your head down, he’d grab you by your neck and make the entire house hear you cry. He’d fuck you like a slut, make you cum all over his cock so hard multiple times, until you couldn’t think about it. He wishes it’s your cunt he was fucking like a mad man, that was squeezing him like this so deliciously as he angled it to your g-spot, hearing your sharp in take of breath, trying to stave your orgasm off.

There’s a burning sensation at the back of his mind that aches for your body. He wants to be the one you’re the most vulnerable with, so that he can throw it back in your face. He wants to take his misery out on you.

 “ ‘s too much, t’much- Gumi gonna cum-”

“Shut up” he snarled at her angrily. She called him that stupid name you always call him. No matter what he does, you keep haunting him everywhere he goes. “You’ll put me off if you talk. Just cum.”

And goodness, Hana has no self-worth as she cums hard, crying out his name over and over again. Megumi pretends it's your voice, that it’s you whining for him and it pushes him over the edge. He cums hard into the condom with a quiet groan, his body violently trembling as he rides his high, your face at the back of his mind until he’s spent.

He slowly removes his hand off her head and drags his cock out, letting her body fall limp onto his bed. He rolled over to face the ceiling in an attempt to catch his breath from having the best orgasm of his life.

Because he was thinking about you.

He knows it’s definitely not love. He doesn’t love anyone and he doesn’t care about anyone else beyond what he can gain. And he definitely enjoyed hurting you, making you cry. He enjoyed dragging you down to his level and he’s sure that’s not what someone who is in love does to the person they care about.

He is brought out of his thoughts when Hana rolls on her back, white hair splayed on his pillows, frowning like she’s dissatisfied with something he did.

Which is weird, he’s sure he made her cum.

Normally, he didn’t care and he would never ask, but today, he’s feeling a bit generous. "What’s up with you?” He asked. “You didn’t like it?”

There is a nervous pause, with her biting her lip anxiously, like she’s afraid of saying something that would offend him. It’s clear that whatever has been on her mind must be serious. Eventually, she takes a deep breath and starts talking.

“N-no, I liked today’s session, it’s just…” she mumbled, biting her lip nervously. Megumi raised a brow at her statement. “It’s just what? Spit it out.”

“You kept on calling me (name).”

‘Fuck.’

e-boys taglist: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @iluv-ace @lovely-maryj @slvdsjjk @espresso1patronum @aegsland @madison777x

also available on wattpad under the name "Stupid Love"

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #23

Diavolo: What is “lore”

Mammon: Baby don’t hurt me

•

Mammon: Compliment me

Beelzebub: Barbecue sauce

Mammon: Thanks

•

Satan: Once a man now deemed a clown

Solomon: This is without a doubt the funniest description of the joker I’ve ever seen

Leviathan: This is an excerpt from my resume

•

Solomon: When you brush your teeth you are petting your skeleton for a job well done

MC: Smoke meth – Hail Satan

Solomon: What the fuck

•

MC: I haven’t cha cha slid since high school

Mammon: I’ve never seen the cha cha slide referred to in the past tense and I am fucking shaken

•

Leviathan: I’m so glad they removed the “nut” from honey Cheerios

Asmodeus: Now you gotta add your own

Leviathan: Why must you do this to my posts

•

Diavolo: What does it mean when someone says they’re pescatarian and vegan

Raphael: Land animals are innocent of crime but the fish have sinned

•

Thirteen: We only came to this site in the first place b/c we were gay and liked Harry Potter

Asmodeus: I actually came to this site because of onceler incest

Thirteen: Your just gonna say those words huh

•

Leviathan: When manga characters add a heart to their speech… I wish I could do that

Simeon: You can. Just put a little love in your voice. Smile, people hear it

Asmodeus: Moan

Barbatos: Duality of man

•

Simeon: “Clowns are the pegs on which the circus is hung” — P.T. Barnum

Leviathan: Pegging clowns???

Asmodeus: Pegging hung clowns???

Lucifer: This is why this website is worth negative money

•

Mammon: Pregnancy is a hoax the baby sprouts out of the ground I’ve see it happen

Mammon: People pretend to be pregnant for clout it started with one woman named dvd and people been chasing the same high since

Mammon: Meant eve

•

Leviathan: I wish I had an even more vague void than the internet to scream into

Satan: An abandoned Kmart parking lot just before Dawn

Leviathan: Jesus I didn’t say a whole different dimension

•

Belphegor: They’ve got me in some kind of secret facility

Belphegor: Doing experiments on me

Belphegor: I have powers now

Belphegor: I’m gonna fight the government

Solomon: Me when I’m an original character made by a 12 year old

•

Leviathan: I’d rather see 1000 graffiti penises than 1 product billboard. I’d live in dick city if it meant I could avoid advertisements in my daily life

Asmodeus: We built dick city

Mammon: We built dick city on cock and balls

•

Mammon: It’s fun to stay at the y

Mephistopheles: M

Leviathan: M

Thirteen: M

Simeon: *smacks the side of my boom box to get it to stop skipping*

Luke: C

Satan: Young man

•

Solomon: People in the 70s would wake up and be like I need to go hitchhiking right now

MC: Mfs be like good morning Susan! Another serial killer in the paper today, so not groovy! Welp, time for our daily car ride with a stranger!

Mammon: I’d reply to this post but I’m waiting for my Uber

•

Satan: Imagine searching your whole life for the chosen one who will destroy the matrix and save the human race and you find him and he’s fucking Keanu Reeves

Diavolo: YOU FIND HIM DOING WHAT

First • Last • Next

[rowretro]

ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕤

✧warnings: F-boy Sunghoon so mentions of sex ig, may be a lil suggestive, possessive hoon

❁synopsis: The campus hottie, was practically perfect, smart handsome talented and rumour has it among the girls, good in bed. The male is a fuck boy, a jerk face, never once wanted to fall in love after having his heart broken once by an unlucky bitch. Heck he believed he'd be like that forever, until he came across the new girl. Yang y/n.

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

✧❁PART 1/???❁✧

"Oh my god you slept with him?!" one of the girls exclaimed as the other girls had their shocked reactions too "Yeah... then he broke up with me" the girl admitted "Isn't Sunghoon a fuck boy though? girl why'd you date him he doesn't even hide the fact he doesn't love you?" another girl pointed out "It doesn't matter, at least I had a great night" the girl said shrugging as the others laughed it off.

Y/n fiddled with her phone as she waited outside the classroom, one earphone in, hidden by her hair. She's heard many crazy things about this high school, having been transferred from a school in UK where she was used to everything, to a high school in South Korea. Everything is so new there, education system, driving on the different side of the road. but she had her best friend, Danielle by her side.

"Hey it's going to be ok" the girl reassured. One thing y/n is glad about, is the fact that she's fluent in Korean so language will not be a big problem for her. She smiles at Danielle as she follows her in. The teacher asks her to introduce herself as the girl blinks, staring at the class in disbelief. Introduce? first day and she has to speak in front of all these judgemental 18 year old strangers?!

"I'm y/n..." she says, forcing a smiled, the teacher points at an empty seat which was sadly not next Danielle. Making a sad pouty face at Danielle, she sat at the seat. 17 minutes. That's how long it took "Park Sunghoon late again?!" The teacher scolded as the male scratched his head then he froze. His eyes on y/n.

The girl's jaw rested in her palm as she doodled in the margin, false lashes fluttering against her glasses, her lips stained with a rosy, nude shade. Fuck she's everything. Is this what cupid felt when he saw psyche? love at first sight like Romeo experienced with Juliet? Sunghoon was captivated.

He slammed his palm on the desk of the person beside y/n. The girl didn't even flinch and probably didn't care due to the earphone blasting Itzy in her left ear. the student sitting beside her immediately got up and went to a different seat as Sunghoon slipped into the seat beside the girl. he turned to her, tapping her shoulder. the girl paused her music turning to him.

So this is Park Sunghoon, the handsome fuckboy they say. Y/n knew he was bad news "Im Sunghoon... and you?" the male asked "Not interested" she said, turning back to do her work "Come on baby, don't be like that" he said, winking as she sighed, looking at him. She then turned back and ignored him, doodling.

"Wah you can draw- that looks so realistic gurl" he complimented as the girl groaned, slamming her head on the desk. "Park Sunghoon stop distracting the new girl and get on with your work. or you can switch spaces with Eunchae!" the teacher warned as Sunghoon groaned, picking up his pencil.

2 lessons passed by and break time rolled in, she smiled, sorta running over to Danielle with grabby hands. they jumped up and down squealing like typical girls as their fingers intertwined. "I can't believe we're finally in the same schooool!" Danielle squealed as y/n smiled. "I know right?! we can finally do typical bestie stuff get our nails done, do each other's makeup, gossip, and hang out~" y/n added with a smile.

"All of this and I don't hear boyfriend... i'm assuming it's because you have one?" Sunghoon asked with a raised eyebrow as the girl sighed "No I don't never had one and never will... I don't like the idea of putting all my trust in a guy." She said, in a slight passive aggressive manner. "Ok but I'm telling you, a pretty girl like you NEEDS to end up with a trust worthy guy like me" Sunghoon said.

Y/n gave him the 'be for real' look as she rolled her eyes, walking away with Danielle. "So stupid. He really thinks I'm going to let him get in my skirt?!" y/n scoffed, handing danielle a cherry lollipop as she sucked on her own. "Please. He can't flirt for shit, and just yesterday he had two girlfriends whom he dumped back to back." Danielle added as Y/n shook her head, disappointed. Sunghoon having over heard all this, decided it was time to stop playing girls like a gameboy, and pursue his princess.

✧❁PART 2❁✧

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Stars Align: Part 2

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Mentions of Abuse, Violence, Angry Bradley, Alcohol Misuse.

-- Part 1 Here --

_______________________

18+ Only

_______________________

Present:

Bradley stood looking at you in awe and shock. He couldn't believe his eyes. In front of him stood a gorgeous woman, breathtakingly beautiful, and surprisingly confident having just nearly fallen. The woman in front of him was a stark contrast to the shy girl he'd known years ago, yet she was exactly the same somehow.

"Birdy is that really you?" He blinked as his strong beefy hands held you in place.

You chuckled, your mouth curling into a grin as you looked into the familiar brown eyes that kept you sane throughout high school.

"It sure is, but I'm having a hard time believing it's you, Brad." You took in his enormous stature, tanned muscles bulging under his tight shirt sleeves, sweat glistening off of his exposed chest under the colourful lights. He now had a strong moustache, a chiselled jawline replaced his chubby cheeks, and his mop of dark hair now neat blond-chestnut curls, complimenting his sun kissed skin.

You and Bradley stared at one another for what felt like forever, before he huffed a laugh of disbelief, shook his head, and pulled you in for a hug, the familiar feeling catching you off guard and you sucked in a deep breath. He still smelled the same, like tobacco and cedar wood, just without the sweaty teen boy odour.

You gingerly wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, you forgot how much you'd missed him.

You must have been holding one another for a long time, because Gabby suddenly cleared her throat and pulled you from your bubble. You pulled away and looked at her awkwardly as she raised an eyebrow at you.

"Been here literally 2 minutes and you've already pulled." She scoffed jokingly.

You laughed, "Uhm, Gabs this is Bradley, my old best friend I was telling you about."

"Hi." Bradley smiled and stuck out a hand. She shook his hand and mouthed a not so secret 'wow' at you. You rolled your eyes and turned to Bradley.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, it's my friends bachelor party tonight, he's around here somewhere." Bradley scanned the room but came up short. "What about you...two?"

"I just moved here, Gabby's showing me around, I guess you could say." You chuckled awkwardly.

"I'll... let you two catch up. I need the bathroom anyway." She winked at you as she handed you her drink to watch.

"So, you're not in New York for long then I'd imagine?" You asked.

"Nah, just until after the wedding. I'm out of here Monday." He explained as you walked a little way out of the crowd to a quiet corner. You nodded.

"That's a pity, would be nice to catch up. Look Brad, I'm sorry I stopped responding to your texts, I-"

"Hey, say no more. Life gets busy, I get it." He gave you a reassuring smile. Bradley had no idea just how busy and crazy life had gotten after you moved. "While you're here, do you wanna go for a drink?"

"What you mean, like, now?" You asked. "Aren't you here with your friends? Plus I'm with Gabby, I shouldn't..."

"Okay, how about after?"

You thought for a moment, and nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'll have a few drinks with Gabs, and you can come grab me when you're finished?"

Bradley nodded and bit his lip to stop a grin, "Good. We've got a lot of catching up to do, Birdy. I've missed you." and like the old days, Bradley ruffled your hair and left. You huffed and fixed your hair just as Gabby came back from the bathroom, and you struggled to keep your focus on her for the rest of the evening.

_____________________

Past:

You'd just finished getting ready, your baby pink prom dress looked super cute and your mom had loosely French Braided your unruly waves. She'd skilfully applied makeup so that your skin looked flawless and your eyes popped. You'd never felt more beautiful, and suddenly you felt less nervous. Maybe Bradley would see you and forget all about Michelle.

The doorbell rang and your dad went to answer it, you could hear him and Bradley talking about the latest football game.

"You ready?" Your mom grinned, "You look beautiful, pumpkin."

You nodded with a grin and you walked to the front door. Bradley turned as he saw you and his jaw dropped.

"Jeez, Birdy, you look pretty." He breathed.

"Oh shut up." You blushed, "You look nice too. But what's with the red tie, you look like a rooster." You teased. Bradley scoffed with mock offense.

"Right, Birdy and Rooster, get out of my house." Your dad laughed. "Have a good time, but make sure she's home by 11, son."

"Yes sir, have a good night!" Bradley waved goodbye to your parents and you shot them awkward looks, telling them to close the door and go inside.

You mom pulled your dad inside and shut the door.

Bradley helped you into his truck, carefully lifting your dress so it wouldn't rub against the dirty sides, and even went so far as to buckle you in. Your faces were inches apart, and you scanned the face you'd gotten so used to for the millionth time, only he seemed different now.

As he climbed into the front seat, he stopped to look at you for a while.

"What?" You asked, feeling self conscious suddenly.

"Nothing, you just really do look pretty. Didn't realise you could clean up so good." He grinned as he started the truck and pulled away.

You scoffed, "Speak for yourself, Bradshaw. Other than the tie you look like a real man."

"I am a real man, thank you. If only you could see what's under these pants, you'd be-"

"Ew, shut up." You smacked him playfully on the arm and Bradley laughed.

You pulled up to Michelle's house and you waited in the car as Bradley walked up the long drive to her front door. He knocked and Michelle walked out, looking stunning in a figure hugging red dress, her boobs almost spilling over the top.

You sighed as you watched Bradleys eyes light up as they walked down to the car. Michelle stopped in front of your door, looking at you expectantly. Bradley moved around her to open the back door for her to get in, but she didn't budge.

You looked at her and rolled down the window.

"Hi Michelle."

"Hello, aren't you gonna... you know?" Her voice was steely and bored.

"You want me to move?" You asked in disbelief.

"Well yeah, I am his date. What are people gonna think when they see me climbing out of the back of this thing?" she scoffed.

"Okay." You mumbled, unbuckling your seat belt.

"No, Birdy. Michelle, she's already sitting there, it's not a big deal, can't you just climb in the back? It's less than 2 minutes to the hall." Bradley argued, and you stopped in your tracks.

Michelle raised her eyebrows at him, and immediately you sensed the energy shift.

"No, it's fine." You opened the door and hopped out, Michelle immediately taking your place.

"What are you doing? That's always your spot." Bradley whispered to you as you climbed into the back.

"Keeping the peace." you whispered back.

Bradley huffed out a sigh and shook his head, crossing over to the front and climbing in.

The drive to the school hall was silent and awkward, and you noticed Bradleys eyes flitting to you in the back seat through the rear view mirror every so often.

When the car stopped, you hopped out, and Michelle waited for Bradley to cross to her end and help her out of the truck.

The three of you walked towards the school, and as more people came into view, Michelle's energy shifted again. She was all smiles as she hung on to Bradleys arm, you awkwardly falling behind.

"Smile for the camera Brad." She forced through her grin, and planted a kiss on his cheek as the school reported snapped a picture.

This would be a long evening and you knew it.

_________________________

Present:

The night moved quickly, and the drinks were flowing as you and Gabby took to the dance floor. You lost yourself in the music until you were out of breath and beckoned for Gabby to join you outside, but she gestured to the guy she was dancing with. You nodded and went out to the balcony.

The night air was beginning to cool and you welcomed the goosebumps that covered your too hot skin. Your feet were killing you, so you leaned against the balcony railing to take some of the weight off of them.

As you watched the people on the street below, you gradually regained your breath. You stood up to go back inside, but you felt a body bump up against you.

"Oh sorry." you apologised for them, as you stepped away, giving the drunk man a polite nod.

"Wait, baby, where are you going? I was hoping to get to know you, been watching you all night. You dance real good." The man slurred, grabbing your wrist.

You pulled out of his grip, "Sorry I have to get back to my friend." You turned to walk inside, but he suddenly wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled his hand against your stomach until you were pressed up against him.

You writhed against him, but his grip was too strong.

"Let go." You demanded, "Get off of me." You tried to pry his hands away, but even in his drunken state he was too strong for you.

"Come on, lady, I just wanna buy you a drink, stop being such a fuckin' prude." He struggled against you, his hot breath gliding across your cheek.

"I said get OFF!" You elbowed the man in the chest and he loosened his grip as he gasped, and you went flying away from him.

For the second time that evening, you collided into someone else, and looked up to see concerned, familiar eyes. Bradley scanned your face for a second, and once he was sure you were ok, he turned his attention to the man.

An angry scowl you had only seen once before appeared on his face as she crossed the balcony and lifted the man by his shirt.

As the man dangled a couple feet off of the ground, he whimpered. Your jaw dropped at the sheer strength Bradley possessed. You guessed those muscles weren't just for show.

"If I don't see you leave in the next 2 minutes, I swear to god I'm gonna ruin that pretty boy face of yours. You touch my girl again, or any other girl while I'm around, that's end game for you, buddy. Got it?" He growled.

The man nodded, "I'm sorry, I- I didn't know she was spoken for, honest." He whimpered, and Bradley threw him to the ground.

"Get out."

The man hurried to his feet and passed you. Sure enough after a couple minutes he exited the building quickly and you watched as he ran down the street below, before turning your attention back to Bradley.

"That was incredible." You mumbled.

"Are you okay?" Bradley asked, crossing the balcony to inspect you fully. His hands smoother over your bare arms and then his hands cupped your face.

"I'm ok, Brad, he literally just grabbed me, I'm fine." You pushed his hands away.

Bradley nodded, and let out a breath of relief as his big hands ran through his curls.

"You ready to go get that drink?"

_____________________________________

Past:

"Oh my god, Y/N! You look so pretty!" Sophie from your English class commented.

"Thanks Soph, so do you!" You turned and made pleasant conversation with Sophie and another girl, while Bradley did his rounds with Michelle and her friends. It was all fake smiles and posing for pictures, and Bradley found himself growing bored quickly.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some soda, you want one?" Bradley offered, and Michelle nodded, turning back to her friends.

"You look hot, girl, and so does Mr Bradshaw over there, did he get... bigger, over the summer?" Jessica asked Michelle, their whole group giggling.

Michelle rolled her eyes, "Ugh, maybe, I don't know. I'm having the worst time. His little friend is tagging along as a pity invite. It's like having his little sister along for the ride."

"Who?" Jessica asked.

"Y/N Y/L/N." she pointed to you in the corner of the room. "I doubt I'm gonna get my V card swiped tonight, wanna ditch?"

Bradley hadn't noticed when Michelle and her friends slipped out. Jessica had a fake licence, and they'd decided to buy some drinks and hit a house party instead.

When he turned around, she was gone, and he scanned the room for her. When he saw you, he immediately crossed over to you and handed you your soda.

"Thanks, 'Rooster'." You said playfully, as you opened the can.

"Have you seen Michelle anywhere?" He asked, distracted.

You shook your head, "Last place I saw her was over by the DJ booth talking to her friends. Maybe ask the DJ?"

Bradley nodded and walked over as you stood against the wall and watched your school mates dancing and chatting away.

A few minutes later, Bradley stormed over to you.

"Did you find her?" You asked over the music, Bradleys eyes were dark and his eyebrows were creased, he was pissed.

"What did you say to her?" He demanded. You straigtened.

"What do you mean?"

"What did you say to Michelle? The DJ says she was talking about you and then wanted to leave." his face was red now, and his chest was heaving.

"I didn't say anything to her, I've literally just been standing here the-"

"You must have done something. God, that's just like you, Y/N. Just because you didn't get asked to Prom you thought it would be better to scare her away so I'd be all yours instead, didn't you? Didn't you?" He demanded, and you were too shocked to say anything. Bradley took this as confirmation.

He scoffed and his hands fell to his hips as he nodded.

"Yeah, of course you did. Thanks a lot, you ruined my fucking night."

You watched as Bradley stormed out of the hall, and hot tears rolled down your face, ruining your perfect makeup.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sophie asked, having witnessed the whole thing, gently taking your arm and pulling you to a table to sit. You wiped your eyes and nodded, your eyes trained on the door, hoping Bradley would come back in for you.

After a few minutes, Sophie having done her best to console you, you excused yourself and walked outside. You looked around for Bradley, but he wasn't among the few students and teachers outside, so you crossed the lawn and made your way down the sidewalk to where Bradley had parked the truck.

Your lip quivered as you realised, dread suddenly washing over you. Bradley had left you behind.

________________________________

-- Part 3 Here --

[ajortga]

lead, part 1

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

a/n: I don't know how to work this, it's my first story on tumblr, i use wp and I found this story so interesting, so I wanted to try tumblr out, we'll see how this goes!

in which, you get paired as a lead with your crush, jenna ortega.

part 2

-

Theater.

That's where home is to the heart.

It's just so captivating. You never want to let go of it. You know you won't.

You want to do it forever when you're older.

It all started when you were in 6th grade, you can remember it like nothing could ever be forgotten. Your teacher told your class that you would be visiting the high school and experiencing their performance of Matilda. You sat in the second row, next to your friend as the shining lights began to dim and the chatters quieted.

You can just remember how captured you were in the performance. Part of it was the actors, the freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors that worked together so perfectly. Your focus was on them, the setting, everything. But you knew that day, something changed.

You remember telling yourself,

You want to do that for the rest of my life.

You remember thinking of directing or acting whenever your parents asked what you wanted to be when you were older, those careers were one of the only ones that stuck each time. Sure you knew it wasn't going to be easy, but a part of you told you that this is what you wanted. That's why you were trying, even after every time you were told no.

So you applied, 9th grade year. You remember crying to your parents when they rejected the dream of acting.

You had never cried so hard more than how much you did that day. Even when you knew your parents weren't so supportive of your film future, you just..

You just wanted to try.

So you did. Then you got into advanced theater and that was all it took for your passion to grow.

You auditioned, you sang okay, you loved to act, you wanted to do everything with film.

–

Today was the day of terror.

Well you wouldn't say terror, more like the anticipation was killing you.

Middle of sophomore year, which was now, you had auditioned for the lead role. Before you only got ensembles or tech, well there was a reason, you never had the guts to audition for a lead role.

The whole day you were shaken up, biting your nails, your heartbeat quickening whenever you heard even a mention of the musical.

During your film elective, right before theater, you were nearly dying.

Not even taking in any of the teacher's words, they were translated into musical songs. You shouldn't be so excited or afraid, you were in theater already, you were certain to get at least one role.

Something was different though.

You wanted the lead.

"Nervous feelings for the theater, huh?" It was a soft, sing-song voice next to you.

You turned to see your classmate, Jenna.

She was a small brunette with pretty wavy dark brown hair and warm caramel eyes that you could drown in.

You couldn't tear your eyes off of her, she was so pretty.

You glanced at your shoes, "Yeah.. Yeah sure, I wouldn't say nervous though."

She laughed, looking at you for a moment, "You know, I was there when you auditioned, your vocals were on spot and your acting was captivating to say the least."

You broke into a small smile, "Well thanks Ortega. I'm not used to compliments, especially in theater. You auditioned for which part? I saw you practicing lines the other day."

Now it was Jenna's time to smile, she looked back at you, "Yeah, it was pretty quick, I auditioned for one of the lead's too, not your part though. I just went through my script real quick, I honestly feel that when I look at scripts once, it sticks to me."

You were going to respond but the bell for last period rang, it was the moment of truth.

You held your breath, exhaling a sigh after a moment and turned to Jenna.

"Well I think this does it, good luck then?"

She nods, grinning, "Goodluck y/n."

Wait a minute, isn't the only other lead role the love interest?

Now that you are in theater, with everyone talking, you decide to grab your headphones and click play on your spotify.

You eased, you shouldn't be so nervous but you were. If you didn't get the lead, it would show your talent and you would under look any of your true abilities in film. If you got the lead, it meant that all eyes were on you, you would be playing next to Jenna.

Your heart sang.

Lie.

Not a lie.

Stop!

Your legs bounced up and down as your classmates were waiting for your theater teacher's response for the cast of the musical.

Your teacher, Mrs. Jenn went around the classroom, almost all of your friends getting ensemble or background roles, could it be any worse? The small roles were taken by your much more talented friends, didn't that mean that you could get a small role too? Or was it just life telling your oblivious brain that you were going to get the lead?

The teacher turned to you, grabbing a card from her basket, and made eye contact, she smiled.

"I loved your audition y/n. You depicted and portrayed the part perfectly, you got the lead role along with.. Oh! Ms. Ortega! Congrats girls!" She clapped her hands together, "Alright team, rehearsals start after school starting next week on every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday! Let's wrap it up, I'll be handing you your scripts that we'll memorize in class."

Your stomach flipped, your heart was jumping out of it's chest, you got the lead you wanted!

That is what you wanted...

Right?

Then why is your heart beating so quickly?

Maybe it was knowing that the girl you developed puppy love for was going to play a love interest to you.

As Mrs. Jenn came up to you, she handed you a script that held lots of pages..

A specific page caught your eye, a scene where you and Jenna had to kiss, your eyes widen, nearly choking on nothing.

This was going to be a big problem..

[ashwhowrites]

Could I request angst #1 with Eddie please❤️ RIP my heart out but maybe happy ending?

What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?

I hope this is enough angst for you!! And I hope it does rip your heart out. I tried my best <3 thank you for requesting

Good enough?

Eddie liked to give off the vibe that he was confident. That every negative comment thrown his way did nothing to affect him. He walked with his head high, danger in his eyes, and a fence around his heart. He's been burned too many times, so he didn't care to let anyone in. The people in his life all walked out on him, and he started to believe the common factor was him.

He planned to graduate and get the hell out of Hawkins. The only person he'd leave behind was Wayne, but even then, he wasn't around much. Eddie didn't spend his free time with anyone, just scrapping for money. A jar packed with every dollar he made, his ticket to get out. He's been saving for years, over hundreds of money.

He lived behind a wall, and he was scared to let anyone get too close to it. Because if they did, they'd see his right through it. His walls are made of glass, one shattering away from collapsing.

At the end of the day, he was lonely. And being lonely made him make stupid decisions, like falling in love.

~~~

Y/N was new to the school and to Hawkins. She looked lost and small, but gorgeous. A kind of gorgeous that Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of her. He kept staring, trying to see if she was real or a dream. She wore comfy clothes, nothing over the top for her first day in a new school. Which told Eddie she didn't feel the need to impress anyone. But, he kept walking by.

He saw her every day and every second. It was like she spawned right in front of him, no matter where he went. He couldn't escape from her.

And he never did escape from her. Her warm touch landed on his shoulder, and his body tingled in ways he never felt before. Her sweet voice complimented his shirt, and it stayed in his head. He tried to be polite, smile, and walk off. But then she followed, her number on a piece of paper. He planned to throw it away, he knew someone new wouldn't change anything.

But in a moment of weakness, he called her.

~~~

Two years passed, and they lived in a small trailer together. Their diplomas side by side on the wall. A reminder of where they met and the only achievement Eddie could hang up.

She lived behind the glass walls with him. He cut out a door for her to slip through, her gentle body squeezing in. The glass stood tall, touches of them on the walls to remind him he wasn't stuck in there alone.

He thought she'd leave a long time ago, but here she was, twirling around in his arms in her white dress. The biggest smile he's ever felt across his lips. Their wedding was a tiny dance in their kitchen. Neither had a family to share the memory with. Wayne got a job and left Eddie behind. But Eddie was okay with it, now he had a wife to lie side by side with.

Eddie didn't know how to be a husband, and she didn't know how to be a wife. Both learn together with training wheels. But Eddie has never found himself happier. He still had his dream of leaving, which she supported. They'd run off together and Eddie would get his dream of being a rockstar.

~~~

Time flew, and before Eddie knew it, they were celebrating their third wedding anniversary.

Eddie was running a tad late to the house, stopping by the store to get flowers. He was buzzing with excitement. They saved enough to leave Hawkins forever, and he planned to share that news tonight.

Eddie drove home, a smile on his face as he passed the familiar streets.

The tiny restaurant he proposed at, he remembered how scared he was.

Eddie couldn't eat any of the food, the box in his pocket rubbing against his thigh. His nerves swimming in his stomach, he felt like everything he ever ate was going to come back up. She watched him worriedly as she sipped her wine. Her warm hand clenched his as she asked if he was alright. He smiled and said he was fine.

The sweat on his hairline as he took a deep breath. He reached into his pocket and slid off his chair. Dropping to his knee in front of her, kissing her left hand as he held it. He remembered the shocked look on her face, the tears that slid down her cheeks. The way he choked out the words through his own tears. "I've never had a home, just a roof over my head. I've never had love, just a piece of paper saying I was Wayne's. But now I found home and love in the same place. You are my home, and I learned what love felt like because of you. You are the only person in my life that hasn't left me behind. And I want you forever, us forever, and a home forever. I promise I'll give you a home, family, and the love you showed me."

Eddie wiped a silent tear that fell down his cheek, he smiled at the memory and kept driving. A few blocks down he saw the light post, a sting in his heart.

It was a stormy night, the rain poured and thunder cracked throughout the silence. He was running down the street, praying the rain covered his tears, and the thunder blocked out his sobs. Her feet pounding behind him, racing to catch up with him. Her hand reached out and grabbed his jacket.

"TALK TO ME!" she pleaded, her own tears flying down her face as she turned Eddie around. His eyes closed as he refused to look at her. He wanted to run away from the fight and hide from the consequences.

"Baby, please? It's me" She tried again. She wrapped her arms around him, their soaked clothes sticking to each other as he broke down in her arms. His legs gave out as dropped to his knees, and she sank down with him. Her touch never left his as she tangled her hand in his wet curls.

"Just please don't leave me. You are all I have. I know I fuck up a lot, I know I'm a mess and make it impossible to love me. Please don't give up on me."

"Oh Eddie, I'll never leave you. I love you so much, and we all make mistakes. You are my mess, and you are the only mess I'd ever want. I'd never give up on you, okay? I'm always going to love you."

Eddie kept on driving, his mind busy with the memories of her. He pulled into the driveway, a smile on his face as he held the flowers. He turned his key, walking into the house. He could smell the dinner on the stove, the soft music playing through the radio, but no sight of his wife. Eddie hummed as he put the flowers in a vase, setting it on the table.

"BABE?" Eddie yelled, he checked on the dinner before moving around the house. He wasn't sure where she was.

He headed to the bedroom, calling her again as he opened the door.

And there she was,

Standing in tight lingerie, red and black lace covering her chest and cunt. The rest of her skin showed off by the mesh. Her hair curled and messy, red lips smeared, and eyeliner sharp. Eddie thought his wife looked beautiful.

"I can explain!" She rushed out, Eddie's eyes moved away from her and settled on the man behind her.

Eddie felt his heart being torn into a thousand pieces. She reached out to him, her ring still on her finger. Eddie backed away, ignoring the hurt on her face as he tried to find the words. Eddie recognized the man, it was Y/N's boss. He couldn't say a word as her boss quickly ran out of the house.

"I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you." Y/N cried, the tears already falling as she grabbed Eddie's hand. But it was like her touch set him off. Yanked him back down to reality.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" he screamed, not a single part of him felt guilty as she jumped back. Her hands back to her own space as she nervously chewed on her nail.

"Please I can explain!"

"Explain what? I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! I GAVE YOU FUCKING EVERY SINGLE THING I HAD!" Eddie screamed.

He's been burned so many times.

He's been left by so many people.

Just as he expected, the glass house shattered and he was cut by the shreds.

"How could you do this to me? In our bed? In our house? On our fucking anniversary?" Eddie was shooting off questions, and she didn't have any answers. She sobbed as he watched. He didn't know how to feel. It was like he didn't feel anything but anger.

He felt like he should be sad, and heartbroken. But he felt fire in his veins and wanted to hurt her way worse than she hurt him.

"I don't know! But Eddie, please. I'm so sorry, you have to believe me!" She pleaded, but Eddie wasn't having any of it.

"Believe you?" he scoffed, "BELIEVE YOU?" he repeated. "I SPENT ALL THESE YEARS BELIEVING YOU! WHEN YOU SAID YOU LOVE ME, WHEN YOU MARRIED ME, WHEN YOU PROMISED NEVER TO LEAVE OR HURT ME. ALL I DID WAS BELIEVE YOU. I should have known you were just like everyone else. What happened to you? What changed?" Eddie asked, he refused to let himself cry in front of her about it. He spent years refusing to cry over everything, but what was he supposed to do when his everything made him feel like nothing.

"I was unhappy with you, and I was stupid. It happened once then again and again. I know it doesn't make anything better, but he was never supposed to be here."

"Oh well thank you for that! I am so glad that you had the heart to cheat everywhere but our house." Eddie mocked, rolling his eyes.

"How were you unhappy? I did everything you wanted. I mean FUCK! WE STAYED HERE BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO. WE BOUGHT THIS HOUSE BECAUSE YOU WANTED IT. WE HAD THE WEDDING YOU WANTED. We were meant to leave Hawkins behind, and you told me you wanted to stay, and I did for you." Has Eddie explained everything more things were clicking in his head.

"When did you two start?" he asked, his eyes in slits as he glared over at her.

"I don't know. But it's the past! Please we can fix this. We can fix our marriage and have the family we always wanted. Please don't give up on us. Let me fix this." She cried as she clung to his arms desperately. Eddie could see the regret in her eyes, but he couldn't trust her.

"What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough? I've been trying ever since we met. I'm done trying because look where it got me. I gave up my dream in music just so you could stay here and why? For him? Because you picked that he was more important than my dream?"

"I didn't pick between you!" She tried to defend but Eddie just couldn't hold it in.

"YOU ALREADY PICKED HIM! You picked him the second you decided you wanted to stay here. We had a chance to run away like we always dreamed about. Then you changed your mind. You begged me to have our family here. But that's what you truly meant was it? You begged me to stay here so you didn't have to leave him. It wasn't about raising a family in the town I grew up in. It wasn't about the place we fell in love. It was about all about him. You are so fucking selfish. You made me give up everything so you could have it all, and that still wasn't enough. You played me stupid and made me stay here so you could continue your affair? I can't stand you." Eddie hissed. He was done, and the love he felt for her was not enough.

"You're right," she said quietly, "It was about him. I wanted to stay because I didn't want to lose that feeling. And I'm sorry I got caught up. It was just because it was new and exciting! I don't love him, not even close to the amount of love I have for you. I want you, and a family. You are way more important and I'm sorry I broke your heart. "She sobbed, her hands against his cheeks. He tried to hold back his tears but her soft touch reminded him of the love they had together. The nights they were tangled up and their hearts beat together. But broken hearts don't beat anymore.

"We're done," Eddie said, he stepped back and let a small tear fall.

"Eddie no." She pleaded but Eddie shook his head.

"The old you would have never done this to me. She actually loved me, and when she said it, she meant it. The girl I married meant it. You cheated because I made you unhappy? No, you cheated because you were unhappy with yourself. And that's not my godman fault."

"Excuse me?" She snapped, "Unhappy with myself? You aren't the only one that put work into this marriage. I dealt with assholes in high school for giving you a chance. I sacrificed my wedding because we couldn't afford anything. After all, your record stopped you from getting a job. Maybe I was unhappy because you held me back! Maybe I was unhappy because I busted my ass making money to pay all our bills while you tried to make a career happen from your band. Maybe I cheated because I wanted to be taken care of instead of taking care of you." She breathed heavily, her tears gone as she fumed.

"You are so two-faced. We had conversations about my band and your job. YOU TOLD ME TO WORK ON THE BAND AND YOU'LL COVER THE BILLS IN THE MEANTINE BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO DO WHAT I LOVED! You can't throw that in my face now. I offered to get a job, I told you I had connections in California for us, and none of that was good enough for you. You don't get to turn this all on me so you can keep your hands clean. I did everything you told me to do. We sleep side by side every night. If you were unhappy, you had every chance to say something. But that would mean you had to be the bad guy right? But don't worry about it. I won't hold you back. Go live out your house fantasy with your boss, fucking your way up to a promotion, and have him take care of you. See how far lust over love gets you."

Eddie was met with silence. He scoffed and began to pack his bags.

"Just going to leave?" She asked

He collected everything he had in a rush and grabbed his jar from the closet. He was going to make it with or without her.

"Yeah. Since we move on to new shiny things instead of talking things out." Eddie spat out.

"You really think you can do this on your own? You weren't good enough to make it in Hawkins, what makes you think you are good enough to make it in California?"

~~~

"Ladies and gentlemen, Eddie Munson."

Two years later, Eddie stood on a big stage. The crowd chanted his name as the spotlight blinded him from seeing the crowd. His guitar was in his hand and his new band was behind him.

The smile on his face never left. The California air swept across his forehead and he felt the breeze on his arms. The sound of the ocean echoed as he sang and the crowd sang along.

He didn't hold anyone back.

She held him back.

And leaving her was the best thing he ever did. He made it on his own because he was good enough. He was good enough to achieve his dream and damn good enough to be a star.

He struggled with love, and now he has thousands of people that love him all across the world. All these people that saved him, and some he saved right back.

He didn't struggle about being good enough because he was always good enough.

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[beemynumberone]

All The Colours (1/7)

-> In which Idol!Minghao and Actress!OC convey their heartfelt messages through colours.

-> slowwwwburn romance. friends to lovers. no smut.

-> constructive feedback is always appreciated!

All pictures are from Pinterest, I do not own them.

Writer’s note: Hi! I am writing these scenarios to placate my active imagination and hopefully make someone’s day/night. I do not intend to hurt anyone/anything through this fic.

Thank you for picking up my story and happy reading!

Masterlist

*btw, Yile is pronounced as Yi Le (in Chinese pronunciation), it is not supposed to rhyme with Kyle

Part 1: Red

Red had always been Minghao’s favourite colour. Maybe it was due to his Chinese upbringing, in which red was thought to bring good fortune to anyone who wore it.

As he scanned the bustling ballroom of renowned influencers, actors and idols trickling into the room, he wondered, what was good fortune? His parents used to tell him that they met due to good fortune. And while his mind wandered off, his eyes stopped on a moving figure in the crowd.

The figure, clothed in red, had just entered the massive double doors and was now heading towards a group of female actresses. Minghao recognised her —she was the latest trending actress, Wang Yile. Known for her prowess in acting, especially in her debut role as the second female lead in the recent box office hit, many people, including Minghao, admired her talent and were hooked to the screen whenever she appeared. In actual fact, Minghao loved her character so much that when he rewatched the movie, he would skip the movie to only her part.

Yile’s POV:

Yile tried to slow her breathing, closing her eyes and fidgeting with the fabric of her scarlet dress to ground herself. “You can do it Yile, nothing to be worried about,” she self-soothed. At the red light, her manager driving the car turned around and patted her knee. “Don’t worry too much, it’ll be a fun time. You’ll meet people just like you, young and rising celebrities. Besides, it only gets easier when you go to social events more frequently.” Yile could only nod and sip her iced americano for comfort as thoughts of doubt and what ifs clouded her mind.

The drive was short and before Yile could doze off, they had arrived. “We’re here, get ready for the press to take pictures. Don’t forget to smile! You’ve got this Yile.” Yile smiled and took a deep breath.

Lights flashed everywhere as Yile was ushered to the doors of the ballroom. She could not help but gawk at their grandiose appearance. The doors were nearly ceiling high and were embellished with stained glass in the middle. With the chandeliers illuminating them, the view looked picturesque. Turning around, she gave one last curtsy to the eager cameras and headed on.

As she entered the ballroom, her heart raced. She worried the other guests would believe the rumours running around - that she only got famous because of the other cast members and that she acted so well because she was actually a mistress to a CEO in real life. She wished to live a life of meaning, surrounded by people she loved.

A few steps in and she heard the familiar sound of laughter. It was Xinhui, her close friend and another actress who had entered the entertainment industry around the same time as her. Yile met her when she attended her agency’s audition and after bonding over the horrors of the diluted coffee provided while waiting, they had become firm friends. Yile thanked the heavens for placing a social butterfly in her life and headed towards the crowd of people gathered around her.

In the circle of young actresses, Yile felt more at home and could relax a little. Many compliments were exchanged, especially about Yile’s makeup. In middle school, Yile wanted to follow in her older sister’s footsteps to become a makeup artist. However, life took a turn and Yile emerged 10 years later with an acting career and substantial makeup skills. She never lost her penchant for gemstones and a dramatic flair, however.

Before long, Yile’s stomach felt more drawn to the food table than to the conversation going on with the actress she was talking to. She definitely needed to cut down on her caffeine intake. After excusing herself, she weaved through the crowd to the catering table and started to fill her plate with jajangmyeong.

Suddenly, she felt a presence to her right. Yile froze. Why on earth did she pick out the most flamboyant colour on the planet? She did not want to attract attention. She prayed it would not be a random dude who snuck in and make headlines tomorrow on Chinaboo. The last thing she wanted was bad publicity.

In the reflection of the metal chafing dish, she saw her neighbour’s reflection. The person was Xu Minghao, the The8 of Seventeen. She loved listening to the band’s music and laughing alongside their variety show, Going Seventeen. She especially enjoyed their debate sessions, in which she admired Minghao’s logical arguments and how he always stuck to his values.

And now here was Minghao in the flesh, opening his mouth to speak to her! Yile’s brain basically shut down.

Minghao’s POV:

Minghao had nothing to do, if he was being honest. Most of his celebrity friends had not yet arrived and he was not prepared to make more friends yet. He really missed his members who could liven up any sombre atmosphere. So he did what he usually resorted to— finding solace in his stomach.

He approached the table and scanned the food labels. Then settled on jajangmyeong, a comfort food that reminded him of Korea and his family, Seventeen.

However, there was someone else using the tongs for jajangmyeong. And that someone was Wang Yile, who was basically his “celebrity crush” as teased by Junhui. So Minghao waited quietly beside her, not wanting to embarrass himself in case he came across as an annoying fan, or even worse, scare her off. So he stood there. And waited for like 5 minutes. Yile was not moving.

“Um, hi.”

Yile jumped. Minghao swore, startled.

Minghao mentally facepalmed. He blurted out the first thing that his mother taught him: If you do not know what to say in a social setting, compliment people.

“Your makeup looks really nice. And your red dress is very dry- sorry, very eye catching”.

Yile blinked and looked down at her plate shyly.

“Sorry I shocked you. And thank you for your kind words. You look really dashing in your suit as well!” Yile replied, smiling so as to diffuse the situation.

The silence was deafening. Neither party had anything to say.

Minghao cleared his throat and stretched out his hand. “Hi, I’m Minghao.”. Yile put the tongs down and shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Yile.”.

“By the way Yile, I meant what I said earlier. Your makeup is really pretty. Did you do it yourself?” Minghao asked.

Yile inwardly rejoiced, since the topic was something she felt dearly about. “Yeah, I do. I love tinkering around with makeup. It helps to relieve stress and gives me an outlet to express myself.”

“And what does this look express?”

“Good fortune, actually. I know not everyone is very auspicious but I’d like to think I can use red as a way to mark the beginning of a successful acting career.”

Minghao smiled and said back “Well, cheers to a good journey. Hope to see you around!”

“Same to you!” Yile replied.

As the event drew to a close, Minghao headed back home. In the car ride, he couldn’t help but recall the short conversation with Yile. He took out his phone and searched up for colours and their corresponding meanings.

And as he scrolled through the links, a certain colour caught his eye. Yellow.

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

HIS BELLADONA treech x mentor reader

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

The coolness on my skin was what woke me from a pleasant sleep. I roughly rubbed my eyes and sat up on the bed. With a yawn, I decided to quickly cross the small apartment to the bathroom. I tried to go as quietly as possible so as not to wake my father. Father, I still didn't know if the man sprawled across the old couch was still the same a smiling man who raised me with love. The war destroyed everything, the war took my mother, the war took my father. I slowly wash my face with cold water and stare at myself in the cracked mirror and all I see is the same face as the woman who gave birth to me and loved me, the face of the woman I watched as she slowly died next to me due to lack of food and illness. I remember the helplessness that her death brought because not only did I lose my mother, but her death destroyed the man who had once been her father. After the death of his wife, he began to seek refuge in morphine and alcohol, leaving the weight of the world on the shoulders of his eight-year-old daughter. The only thing that kept her and her father alive was her father's meager salary, the salary was high but father would rather buy morphine than make sure I had dinner and gifts from my father's friend Casca Highbottom. I tried to buy on the black market, I bartered what I could and thanks to that we survived. I was now in my final year at the academy and planned to study at university.I noticed a bruise on my hand in the mirror, my father had another rough night yesterday. Today was one of those days when it didn't fit today was a big day today was harvest for the 10th hunger games. I quickly got ready, chose my mother's favorite dark blue skirt, on which stars were embroidered with yellow thread, on top I took a black turtleneck, which very well covered my bruised arms and neck. I let my hair flow freely on my shoulders and assessed whether it was enough. Unfortunately, there was no time for any shortcomings, so I just grabbed my school bag and headed for the exit from the apartment. Just as I was closing the door to the apartment, I heard the door of the apartment above us close, it meant that Coryo was leaving, so I waited for him to run downstairs, where I joined him on the way to the academy.,,It's a miracle what Tigris did with that old shirt, you look very elegant." I complimented his appearance. Coryo just laughed, "You know snow closets are bottomless." I was the only one who knew about his situation and he knew about mine. I have known Coriolanus since I was a child, our mothers were friends with each other in the days after your mother's death, I lived with the Snows for a while, who helped me a lot at that time. On the way to the academy, we had a pleasant conversation, but when you walked in, Coryo took Clemensia away and I was left alone, but not for long because Lysistrata spotted me. "Hey (Y/N) you look beautiful." Lysistrata was the only one of my classmates that I would believe this compliment.She was very quiet but she was one of the nicest and fairest people I've ever met.,, Well miss Lysistrata it's harvest day of course I have to represent the Capitol." I said with a sneer in my voice. She rewarded me with her smile in return and we left to the hall where the harvest transmission started in no time. I sat in the back row together next to my friend and we waited patiently. But what I didn't expect was the news that each of the top 24 students will be assigned a mentoring tribute. We are going to turn them into a show for entertainment , that made me sick to my stomach. I exchanged a disgusted look with Lys next to me.,, As if it wasn't enough that they are going to die, we're going to force them to make puppets here." I whispered in Lys's ear and she just nodded in agreement. The dean began to read the names and the screens showed each tribute.,, And the male tribute from the 7th district belongs to Miss (Y/N) Belladon.” My breath hitched as I stared at the face of the boy I was to lead to his death. He was tall with dark curls and gorgeous brown eyes.

Treech was the name

Treech was the name of my tribute

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 14

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings: It's fite nite y'all.

A/N: Dividers by meeee. Also, to celebrate the end of Act 1, this is a two-part drop. I will work as fast as I can to ensure the post is up to snuff, but if you cannot click the link to Chapter 15 at the bottom, try refreshing the page or looking at the series masterlist!

series masterlist

chapter 14: pre-game

Osha tied off the apron around her waist and did a few ankle stretches to prepare for her short shift at the bar. She was about to call it good and clock in a few minutes early when Medora entered the break room.

“Hiii Osha!” she sang, bubbly as ever. She’d been on every shift Osha had so far and had shown her the ropes a little better than Kana had. Anything you need, I’ve got you. It’s quite the boy’s club down here and up there, so we gotta stick together and look out for one another.

“Hi, Medora,” Osha said, enraptured by her coworker’s chaotic entrance. Medora spilled the contents of her purse across the table and pored over it while she spoke.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here; thought you’d be part of the crowd.” She briefly abandoned her search to hang up her jacket. “Alright, where the crap is it…”

“No, Kana tempted me with that double time.”

“Always does—HA!” She held a tube of lipgloss aloft in victory. “Thank god, I spent all day worried.”

“What’s that?”

“My secret weapon. Pretty servers get pretty tips.”

“That seems…” Terrible. Misogynistic. Probably true. “Logical.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s awful, but I like money.” Medora juggled a few cosmetics in one hand as she held up a small mirror in the other. Osha caught her eye in the tiny reflection, and Medora gave a once-over. “You look nice. I’m assuming you aren’t dolled up for cash tips?”

Osha flustered. “Oh, uh. I’ve been trying to wear more makeup. In general. You know. Tips.” But that wasn’t the real reason. After dance night, and then after she’d left some on his coffee cup (This for me? Yeah, that’s for me.), Osha fully believed in the power of wearing lipstick around Qimir. Perhaps wishful thinking got her into this mess, but the compliment from Medora made her feel less… silly.

“Well, regardless of who you’re dressing up for, that color looks amazing on you.”

“I’m not—”

“You can dress up for yourself, you know.” She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “I do it all the time.” She winked at Osha. “In fact, I’m doing it right now.”

Osha smiled, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. She took another seat and watched Medora work while she chattered about her day.

It reminded Osha of her mama, many many years ago. Every few mornings, she would take the time to sit at her vanity and painstakingly twist each loc and braid into a new intricate hairstyle that suited her fancy.

She knew, in retrospect, that this time was a precious commodity to her mother—just a few minutes of quiet that Osha tried her best to preserve, though her sister did not seem to notice. Mae had asked a million questions—about the process, about the history of the styles, about any and everything. But her mama was always happy to be around her daughters, answering each question with patience and respect. She also made sure to smile at Osha, reminding her that she remembered she was there.

It was rare, after losing her, to be remembered at all when she was quiet.

“Would you—um.” Osha hated this. She hated vulnerability, especially around people she hardly knew.

“What’s up?” Medora drew her riot of curly hair back into a high ponytail, then let it back down when it didn’t please her.

“My sister and I didn’t really grow up around—well, we lost our—she was actually kind of popular at school so she—I have no idea what I’m doing, really.” She was grateful Medora was the only one bearing witness to her idiocy. I could always leave town if this conversation blows up in my face. Start over. Live in the woods. Take a fake name. But first, one more shot at courage: “I never learned how to do any of that. We weren’t around many women who were dressed up.”

Medora just smiled. It filled Osha’s heart with something warm, like the memory of a Sunday morning in a place that no longer existed. “I got you,” Medora said.

Within a few giggling seconds, she had put Osha’s hair in a new style she was no longer hiding behind. This will show off your neck and cheeks—you have a beautiful smile, don’t keep it from the world. She went back and freed a few locs from her bangs—now this will make you alluring. And it’ll hide any eyeliner sins in a pinch. You have such beautiful hair. Just shake your hair a little and it’s like a baby with keys to anybody looking.

It was so simple in retrospect. So much impact, just out of reach because of all she’d lost. Medora clapped happily when Osha looked utterly stunned by the change. “You’re going to get tipped, baby!”

It was an incredible feeling. She’d had the same style since she was a child—easy to maintain, comfortable, familiar. Mae had grown her hair out a few times, but in recent years had gone back to matching Osha. It made the misidentifying in the gym a much more frequent occurrence.

Changing things up made her feel like an entirely different person.

Kana poked his head into the break room, holding a disgusting-looking bucket hat at his side. “What are you two giggling about?”

“You, of course.”

He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we’re doing the draw. Would you grab them for me, please?”

Medora began plucking the time cards out of their slots and handing them to Osha. She found the common thread: these were the time cards of those on shift tonight. When she left several behind, including Kana, Osha, and herself, Osha went to reach for them and was stopped.

“I grabbed all I need.”

“But yours and—”

“Oh, I don’t go in the draw. Neither do you.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see.”

She led the way to the kitchens, where everyone circled around Kana and his stupid hat. He collected the time cards in the hat and shook them around. “Okay, hey! Shut up! Drumroll, please. Tonight’s tuh-ripple pay bouncer is…” He plucked a card from the rest. The impromptu clatter ceased. “Dante!”

The gathered mass responded with a mix of cheers and groans, reminding Osha of watching her first fight at Unknown Planet. As ever, this place baffled her as much as it made her smile.

Kana returned the timecards to Medora with a soft thanks before leaving for front-of-house. She explained what just happened as Osha helped put the cards back in their places.

“Here’s Eltara’s, you’re closer—have you guessed what all that was about?”

“Bouncer duty?”

“Yup.”

“Triple pay?”

“Yup.”

Osha slid the card into a slot neatly labeled ELTARA LOHARNE. “Why’d you leave some behind? I thought Kana would be in it, at least.”

“Kana got the honors last month. Your name stays in the hat until you get picked, and after that, it stays out of the hat until everyone’s gone once. Then they’re all put back in again. Triple time has the capacity to wreak havoc on workplace relations.” She scribbled a little red star in the corner of Dante’s time card, then pointed out the same mark on Kana’s. “So we don’t mix ‘em up.”

“But my name didn’t go in.” Did they think Osha couldn’t do it?

“You haven’t won a fight in the cage… yet. Once you do, you’re in.”

Osha hoped that once she won a fight, she would be in every fight night after, like Qimir. But she hadn’t gone up against anybody for years now, and there was no telling if she’d even win that first match.

“That might be a while,” Osha sighed. “He seems to be overly cautious with my training.” She tapped Qimir’s slot, sitting just above hers. He’d gotten a normal label, Q LOHARNE. Kana had thought putting an OSHA COMPLIANT sticker on hers instead was hilarious.

“I mean, you don’t gotta be nominated by Q. Kana would nominate you if you asked him. Anybody who saw that spar a few days ago would nominate you—that was badass.”

“You saw that?” Osha cringed a little.

“Hell yeah, I did!” Medora laughed and finished her stack of cards. “I’d be so jazzed if I saw you on bouncer duty. I’d just sit and wait for you to toss some huge idiot down the stairs.”

“Thank you?”

“But it’s not just about capability. It’s about respect. If you have a win, especially an uncontested win, gen-pop will listen. The more wins under your belt, the more clout you collect, the less of a hard time they’ll give you. It’s math.”

Osha noticed there was no red star on Medora’s timecard.

“Why aren’t you in the pool?”

Medora’s smile was sad, a faraway quality to her eyes. “I train, but I don’t want to fight. Not every Loharne is made for the cage.”

Qimir had said there were Loharnes all over the city—orphaned children that carried the name into maturity. Nearly half of all the names on the rack were Loharnes—Q and Kana, who were already known to her, but seeing MEDORA LOHARNE near the bottom was a bit of a surprise, given that she wasn’t as reserved in her emotions as Qimir and Kana sometimes were. Osha remembered being numb to most of her feelings for the first year following her mothers’ deaths. Some days, she didn’t think she’d grow out of it.

“I understand that,” Osha said softly. “But I don’t even know why I’m disappointed. I’m sure it’ll be ages before I’m ready.”

“Only you can decide when you’re ready to face something. Having someone you trust to back you up when you do decide is encouraging, though.”

That was news. “Huh?”

“The nomination system.” Medora tucked a few things in the pockets of her apron. “Depends how you look at it, I guess. Take the heart out of it, and it’s just like… co-signing on a loan. At first, it was almost an indemnity clause, considering what it took to implement the system in the first place. That was a bit of a nightmare—the whole Lance thing.” Her face went a little stony at the mention.

“Lance?”

Medora quirked her head to the side. “The guy who attacked Idise ten years ago? I’m surprised Q hasn’t told you. It was and—well, still is big news here.”

“Oh!” Osha flustered. “I—he told me about it, I just didn’t know the guy’s name.” Even so, she didn’t know there was so much gossip she was missing out on.

“Yeah. Like I said. Nightmare. But anyway, if you’re a romantic, the nomination thing is so swoon-worthy. Back when it started, I heard people talk about how it represented this culmination of a relationship with someone at the gym—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special connection. Then they say you’re ready. Not only that, but they’re ready—to tie their reputation to yours when you get in the ring. Maybe I’ve just read too many bodice-rippers, but where else do you sign your name next to someone like that but a marriage certificate?”

Osha tried her best not to walk straight into a wall, and failed. Medora didn’t comment, too wrapped up in her diatribe.

“Then again, the whole thing could be a comedy—in the way that comedy is just tragedy plus time. You do all that, you subscribe to the ideology, someone vouches for you—and then you get your shit rocked in a nomination match? Now that’s embarrassing. The person who vouched for you gets remembered for your fuckup. Until a new embarrassment takes your place, that is. See? Tragedy plus time equals comedy.”

Osha still couldn’t bring herself to laugh about it. But Medora certainly wasn’t joking.

Kana released her from her shift about ten minutes after the crowd went upstairs. She bypassed the public staircase (where Dante dutifully stood his post) and headed directly to the dressing rooms to change, knowing at least one fighter would let her in.

Her path brought her face to face with another person headed in the other direction. He was handsome, in an I-got-my-nose-job-from-a-fist kind of way. Osha didn’t recognize him, but Unknown Planet was an all-hours joint. They could have differing schedules.

He didn’t recognize her either, asking, “Are you and I fighting tonight?” He gave her a slow once-over. He was about three times her size, but Medora’s enthusiastic vision of Osha tossing some huge idiot down a flight of stairs kept her from feeling intimidated or creeped out. She took no offense, knowing the brash culture of Unknown Planet was a fact of life. In some ways, she liked it.

She noticed the green balaclava in his hands. Brawler.

“Not tonight, buddy.”

“Aw, we’re buddies? I’d love to be friends, thank you.”

Osha laughed. Years of intensely repressed connection at the Temple had set her up for failure when it came to flirting (and, honestly, friendship), but Unknown Planet didn’t care for formality. In fact, they were at times brazen enough to hit on her in the brief seconds Qimir stepped away during their sessions. It was almost a game, how long can I flirt with Osha before her scary dog gets back and glares me to death. As superficial and vapid as it was, it made her feel wanted. Accepted. Welcomed.

And it drove Qimir insane when she engaged with it.

“Sure. Let’s be friends, Sour Patch.”

He looked delighted, but a new voice cut in with a razor’s edge—right on cue.

“Osha.”

Hello, my strange, scary dog.

Qimir stood on the upper landing of the stairs, looking more than ready to charge the man in front of her if she gave the signal.

“I was just headed up,” she assured him. She turned to the fighter before her. “I’ll just slip by you, thanks!”

Sour Patch let his hand brush her lower back, and she threw an exaggerated scowl over her shoulder. “See you around, buddy,” he said playfully, pocketing his mask and entering the gym level.

Qimir’s expression was overwhelmingly displeased when she arrived on the landing. “Are you alright? Did he try anything?”

He looked her over without trying to hide it, assessing her in hopes of finding the tiniest justification to pound Sour Patch into a fine paste.

“Of course I’m alright. He’s harmless.”

“He’s a brawler.”

“You’re a brawler.”

He pouted at the comparison.

“C’mon, I wanna change before the fights start.”

This time, when a hand came to rest on her lower back, she didn’t scowl. At the zing of sensation that rippled up her spine, Osha stood up straighter, preening at the attention. Qimir walked side by side with her, holding his ground even as other masquerade fighters were made to squeeze against the wall as they passed by. Like schools of fish yielding to a great white shark.

Beyond the black door, everything quieted. The usual pulse of we’re alone bled through her awareness as it always did when the world was shut away from them. Instead of getting caught in the moment, she did what she came here to do—change her clothes.

“How was your first shift?” Qimir asked.

She unbuttoned her black blouse, fighting the demons telling her to go out in the dressing room and do this. “It was fine.”

“I’m glad.” She could hear him fiddling with KT tape in the other room, the plasticky slide of release film dropping in a familiar pattern as he smoothed tape over his thumb, his—

She remembered, once, coming back from the showers at the pool to find him lined up in front of the mirror in the studio, shorts tugged way high one hip as he smoothed two lengths of gray tape from his inner thigh up to the crease of his hip. Hip flexor acting up, he’d said. Osha hadn’t been able to think straight through her whole cooldown.

She wondered if it was acting up tonight.

“N-nearly ran out of pockets for tips.”

“I’m not surprised,” he chuckled. Pretty servers get pretty tips, Medora had said. Osha tried not to read so deeply into three words as to pull a compliment out of thin air. It felt so incredibly silly of her to think, but there was still a small voice in her head asking does he think I’m pretty?

They chatted a little more, but there was an undertone in his voice that harkened back to when he picked her up earlier that evening.

Is everything alright?

When she saw him in the parking lot, she was hit by a wave of tension. Everything Indara told her that afternoon weighed her down and almost froze her feet in place. Crimes. Private investigator. Gangs. She wanted to tell him what was going on, wanted to do anything to let him know her sympathies had deepened, strengthened from a current to a riptide.

I can tell something’s the matter.

It wasn’t like Osha was in the practice of hiding her emotions from him. Sometimes, he knew her moods better than she did. But this time, she’d been very aware of her anxiety.

We don’t have time to get into it, but trust that I’ll be okay, Qimir.

He’d left it at that, but had been a little quiet during the drive to the bar.

And now he seemed to want to ask again.

“I got to witness the bouncer draw,” she said lamely.

She knew Qimir would never ambush her in here, but even in the relative privacy the bathroom provided, she felt like someone—something—was watching her.

Her voice trailed off from what she was saying when she noticed the Smiley mask draped on the little sink. Without him wearing it, the mask felt a little more sinister. A memory whispered why.

We wear masks and take fake names to prevent the guilt from killing us. Beneath the mask… There is no honor or glory in winning that mask. And the only people who know that are the ones who win it, the ones who have to wear the mask.

She didn’t know what came over her when she reached out to touch it for the first time. She ran a fingertip over the embroidered silver teeth that slashed through the black. Some were jagged and broken, some were whole. Some were over large, others miniscule and precise. It was an uncanny grin, more teeth than should be there—stretching almost ear-to-ear.

She discovered that there was more hiding in the dark fabric than she thought: parts of the material which had been frayed or ripped in the past were stitched back together in a patchwork manner she hadn’t been able to see before. She looked closer at one of the gnarled lines of black thread on the back of the hood, stretching almost ornamentally from one side to the other, in a thick snarl that resembled a familiar scar—

“Try it on.”

Osha yelped, jumping out of her skin.

“Fucking shit, Qimir!” she yelled. “What?”

He looked deeply amused by her antics, leaning on one side of the doorframe. “You should try it on,” he repeated calmly.

She frowned down at the mask clutched in her fist. “Are you trying to give me conjunctivitis or something?”

“Do I look like I have pink eye?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

The little eye-holes stared back at her from her hands, and she had to admit, she was tempted.

“Can you even see in this?” she asked.

“Not really. None of us can. It’s like a sensory deprivation experience.”

“What’s the point of that?” she scoffed. “Seems counterintuitive—the most exciting fight of the night, the eight wildest fighters, and they’re all blinded.”

“If we could see each other perfectly, the fight would be over too quickly. Like this, it’s just you…” he shuffled closer, trapping her against the sink while looking down at the mask in her hands. “And what you bring with you.”

She attempted to dodge out of the verbal corner he’d backed her into. The physical corner, however, she made no attempt to leave. “Someone told me you never let a fight get over eight minutes in the cage.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think about that when I’m in there, wearing that.”

“What do you think about, then?”

“Try it on and find out.” That was the third time he’d told her to.

“Fine.” She turned to the mirror, making sure to be careful with Medora’s efforts as she pulled the mask over her head. To her surprise, the mask wasn’t scratchy or unpleasant. It hugged every part of her face, none of the fabric sagging or bunching up uncomfortably. It took her some finagling to get the eyes in the right spot, but when she looked up at her reflection…

She’d seen her face more than most. Mirrors were one thing, but when another person wore the same face as you, it made you more aware of how you looked.

Her eyes looked different in the mask. Accepting that the person staring back at her was herself felt like swallowing a hot stone. It was intense and it was strange, but the longer she held her own gaze, the more she understood why the other fighters felt capable of violence. Behind such flimsy anonymity, consequences seemed far away.

Turning her head this way and that, she tested the peripheral vision afforded to her. There was very, very little.

“Yeah, you’re right, I can’t see sh—oh.” She made to turn around, but came in contact with an immovable wall at her back.

Qimir looked utterly enchanted by the sight of her in his mask, eyes going between her reflection and what was before him. One of his hands caged her against the small sink, and the other went up to hold her chin, moving her this way and that. The silver embroidery caught and fled from the light like fish scales in a river. One tooth would disappear as she turned her head left, only to reappear when she turned back. His thumb brushed over the edge of the smile, just below her cheekbone.

She wondered if he could feel the heat in her face as easily as she felt the heat in his hands.

“When I fight,” he said softly, hypnotized, “I use all senses available to me. My eyes aren’t the best on their own, but your eyes can deceive you. We must not trust them.” Osha felt a curl of unease twist around the curl of desire strengthening in her core. She knew that line, she’d heard it before—“To become so reliant on what you can see will betray you when what you didn’t see becomes the real danger.”

His hand came around to cover her mouth, pausing a moment as he hid the smile from view before he dragged his fingers back across every inch of that smile. “I can tell where they are just by breathing. Fear has a taste, a scent, and they all fear me.”

It tickled as he brushed a thumb over her ear, the fabric making a soft, crushing noise against it that made her shiver. “I listen for them, through the screams of the crowd. Some breathe so loud I could hit them in the dark.”

His hand moved back to cover her mouth, then drifted downward, over her chin and under her jaw to wrap lightly around her neck—then he rested his hand over her pounding heart. “Another reason to control your breathing—to hide from me.”

She almost moaned as his hand brushed the side of her breast on its way to take her hand, moving it to press against her belly. He brought his lips down beside her ear. “The sense of feeling is tied closely to intuition. You have to know your body and its impulses in order to feel where things are in relation to you. When you understand the signals your body gives you, it will tell you everything you need to know.” He paused to ensure her eyes were on his.

They looked almost obscene like this in the mirror, his body curled around hers, trapping her like prey. “Especially the pain,” he whispered, lips drifting to where the mask ended in the crook of her neck. “The pain tells you how to survive, if you listen to it. If you feel it, if you taste it.”

The white-hot slide of his tongue over Osha’s bare shoulder pulled a weak whimper from her, and just as quickly as it had come, he left, lifting his head again and drawing backwards. His parting words were, “I don’t think about anything when I wear this. I feel everything.”

He let go of her, leaving her slightly sagging against the sink. Looking over her shoulder at him, his expression told her he would not apologize for invading her space like that, for touching her so—so… possessively. Tonight, he was at his rawest self, primal in a way few men could truly become.

He wanted her, no doubt about it. And she wanted him, but… first, a touch of shyness. 

She broke his gaze to peel off the mask, fixing her hair as she chattered through her nerves. She noticed him sliding the mask off the sink, pocketing it without a word. “I bet my first time in the ring, I’ll just black out and forget everything you ever taught me.”

He smiled slowly when he met her eyes again, content as a cat in a sunbeam. “I’ll make sure your first time is—”

The rabble in the gym crept to an unignorable volume beyond the dressing room. Osha looked in the direction of the noise, heart in her throat. Qimir looked like he really wanted to finish speaking, but she asked, “Do you wanna go watch? You could… talk strategy with me? Or talk shit?”

She saw him stuff down whatever the feral animal in him wanted to do, punctuated by a smile. “You have a point. After all, you’ll be in the one-on-ones before you get invited to the masquerade.”

“Oh my god I think I just got the joke.”

“What joke?” he said.

“The masquerade brawl that ends at midnight? And you need to have an invitation to dance?”

“We’re not dancing in there—”

“It’s a turn of phrase, oh my god. Let’s go.”

The balcony was surprisingly sturdy—nothing rattled or shook beneath their feet as they strutted past the other masquerade fighters watching the current match.

It was difficult to understand what was going on until Qimir explained to her: the two men fighting were tasked with repeatedly throwing one another onto the mat using the exact same form every time. Qimir had her answers ready before she even asked a question.

“Decision-determined matches are rare here. They aren’t run or scored like what you’re used to.”

“Who are the judges?” she asked, peering into the crowd for any sign of an officiant’s table. “Where are the judges?”

Qimir pointed to a dark, mirrored window set in the brick wall on the opposite side. She’d never noticed it before, but now the gaze of the black, gaping maw on high seemed inescapable. “I’m sure you have questions about the organizers, but not even I have those answers.”

“The match organizers are also the fight judges?”

He shrugged as if saying, why shouldn’t they be? “This fight is an endurance test. Keep your form perfect for every throw, and hopefully, you outlast your opponent.”

“Sounds like it would go on forever.”

“You think you could perfectly throw a 200-pound guy over your shoulder the same way with the same force, forever? After also being slammed to the mat ten seconds prior?”

Thwack! One of the fighters shook their head in a daze. The one who just threw them down helped them up.

Qimir had a point. Damn it. She hated it when he had a point. “Fine. Just seems boring.”

“It’s one of the more impressive feats of strength. This is similar to my nomination match.”

“How long ago was that?”

“It’ll be… 10 years next month, on the new moon.” That’s more than a hundred fight nights. How many has he—

Thwack! Groan. Stand up. Cheer.

As the other fighter prepared to throw again, Osha nudged his shoulder with hers. “Who nominated you?”

A muscle feathered in his jaw, and though he went still and didn’t look away from the fight, she could tell he wasn’t really looking at it. “Idise.”

Back when it started, I heard people talk about how it represented this culmination of a relationship at the gym—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special connection.

Acidic jealousy burned in Osha’s mouth. It was ten years ago. Chill.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other that long.”

“She’s known me since before I joined.”

Where else do you sign your name next to someone like that but a—

“Dang. Long time.”

The conversation lulled a little, and Osha tried not to feel like the fighter getting slammed into the mat. She had to get a fucking grip. “Well, the point is to win the match, so how do I win? If I was in the ring, right now, how do I win?” she babbled.

He watched another few throws before shaking off his fugue to speak. He pointed out flaws in their stances—they were actually losing energy just from standing still. From that point, he talked about kinetic momentum and adrenaline-fueled motion. “If you let yourself walk around even a few steps between throws, your heart rate will be in the perfect place to remain focused and physically ready—mustering your energy from baseline each time kills your stamina.”

It wasn’t what she expected to hear. She’d expected him to say something about finding an opponent’s weakness and drilling down into it every time. To treat every round like it was the last round. But, she realized with a jolt, that was just how the Temple trained them.

Qimir’s advice, by comparison, urged her to stay in the moment and ground herself in reality, not imagine herself at the finish line. There is no finish line. There’s just the road in front of you.

Another few fights passed before Osha recognized an event from last month: two opponents and one knife dropped between them like a hockey puck. 

“Crowds love this one,” Qimir chuckled. “Shit, I love this one.” He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “What would you do?”

“I don’t even know how to hold a knife. I couldn’t give a right answer if I wanted to.”

“I wasn’t asking you so you’d tell me the right answer. I know you don’t have any weapons training—but you’re still a fighter, Osha. You’re allowed to weigh in on things you don’t know about—more than that, I want you to. It’s one of the most effective ways we learn. By guessing.”

“You mean you want me to fuck around and find out.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Osha hummed and leaned her arms on the railing to peer closer at the intense exchange. The fighter without the knife had both hands free to pull the other fighter into a complicated kneeling grapple.

“Well… from one perspective, getting to the knife’s a speed contest, so you’d have to know something about your opponent’s footwork relative to your own. Are you faster, or are you not?”

He hummed, encouraging her to go on. She paused as the armed fighter lost his grip, sending the knife skittering toward the fence. 

“You could just ignore the weapon entirely,” she mused. “Draw blood another way.”

“The rules state that if there’s a weapon in the cage and victory is decided by first blood, the blood must be drawn by that weapon.”

Hm. She watched the pair scramble for the knife, as if hearing Qimir’s input from on high.

“Well. Uh. Another perspective is…” the same fighter from before took control of the knife. “Knowing someone’s strengths as well as their weaknesses.”

“You intend to spy on your opponents before their matches?” he said dryly.

“No, I mean—shut up.” She grumbled and pouted. “If it was me in there against you, you would know I would be more harm to myself if I had the knife in my hands. I could defeat myself for you.”

“Believe it or not, the organizers won’t put a weapon in your hands that you’re not familiar with. Nor would they put you up against someone that surpasses your ability enough to make you seem like a novice. The fights are balanced, so it’s a challenge to win, but not impossible.”

That complicated things. “But I’m right. You can still turn someone’s perceived strength into a weakness to get them to bleed.”

“Everybody has a weakness,” he ceded. “But seeing opponents as a stack of strengths and weaknesses holding a knife doesn’t change the fact that they can still hurt you. What did I say about fear and danger?”

“Denying your fear doesn’t erase the danger. It only makes it harder to survive.”

“Good girl. Now watch—”

How could she, when he spoke to her like that so casually?

He gave her a play-by-play from his point of view. “And that’s a victory right there.”

“What? The fight’s not over.”

“Believe in the power of the armbar.”

The unarmed fighter had pulled the other into a hold, the knife just inches from his face. The grappled fighter tried to twirl the knife in his trapped hand, blade flashing in the light. But the other moved quickly, squeezing his wrist and jerking his whole body to get him to jab himself in the forearm.

The bell rang, and though it was too far for Osha to see it, the roar of the crowd signaled that first blood had been shed. She applauded, feeling like a guest at the side of an emperor, watching gladiators bleed for his imperial amusement.

“The most important thing to remember in these match-ups is that battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won. You have to choose to win before you ever step in the ring.”

“What’s that, a little bit of hard-earned violence-based wisdom?” she said teasingly.

“Walt Whitman.”

A startled, overly loud laugh escaped her, turning a few heads in their direction. Osha hid her face against his shoulder, trying to stifle her giggles but failing. She wasn’t entirely sure, but the gentle touch on her head felt like a kiss.

She certainly hoped it was.

“You don’t need to worry about what will happen before the match starts. Things can go a hundred thousand ways once the bell rings, and only some of them will go right—even fewer will go as planned.” He raised a hand to trace over her bare back, distracted by the cut of her shirt. It was similar to the one she’d worn to dance night, so his fascination felt warranted. He let his hand fall flat on the small of her back, a warm weight she could have purred at.

“You make it sound like someone with no training can enter the ring and win by a mile just by improvising.”

“Yes and no,” he shrugged. “If you recognize when the winds shift in each moment, you can make almost anything work to your advantage.” He turned to face her, his face gone a little serious. “I’m not training you to make you into a trophy machine, Osha. I’m training you to make the best decisions for any moment, but only when you choose to fight.”

It was surprisingly tender. The conviction in his posture spoke volumes to the degree he believed that. It was strange to see vulnerability in his eyes, especially after the heat in them from earlier. When she asked herself why he felt so strongly about her choice to fight, Indara’s voice rang in her head.

She only fostered him so she could take him to tournaments and competitions across the state.

Qimir was clearly about to ask what she was thinking, but a new (well, new-ish) voice interrupted him.

“There you are, buddy!”

Fuck.

Osha sighed, grimacing in a way she hoped could be misinterpreted as a smile. She turned away from the suddenly stone-faced Qimir. “Hey there, Sour Patch.”

“Watching the matches? Save some interest for the last one of the night, would ya?”

“Oh, I’ll try.”

Qimir was a block of ice behind her. His warmth, so reliable and steady, had chilled unexpectedly. The hand on her lower back curled into a fist around a handful of her shirt—there was no way he’d done that consciously. She’d seen Qimir get cold like this before when speaking to some of the other fighters in the gym, but never to this degree. It was plain to see it for what it was:

Possessiveness.

“So you’ve been to one of these before…”

Sour Patch did not, at all, take the rebuffs Osha threw back at him. The wall of silence behind her felt solid enough to—

Hm.

Just to make things interesting, she let herself lean against Qimir. The hand at her waist felt like a goddamn claw.

“No, I actually haven’t seen The Godfather. Haven’t had the inclination. Ever.”

The claw squeezed. She could imagine him whispering, attagirl.

“Oh my god, you’re absolutely missing out. Why don’t you come over and we can—”

The creature behind her scoffed. She rested a hand on the claw, tracing her fingertips over his knuckles.

“I’m pretty on the hook for literally the rest of forever, sorry,” Osha told Sour Patch with an overly kind smile.

Perhaps the smile was too much, because he said, “So Wednesday night, are you free?”

Qimir inhaled like a bull about to charge, nearly disengaging his hold on her to engage his fist into the other guy’s face. Osha moved fast. Her hand shot out, patting the oblivious man’s bicep in an objectively condescending way. “Maybe if you win tonight,” she said, hiding her fangs behind a pretty smile.

Sour Patch lit up, and the beast behind her relaxed. His hand snaked around her middle, tracing a thumb over her piercing. He was oozing satisfaction. Sour Patch has no idea what he’s getting into.

“Well, get ready for a three-part marathon, then!” To her delight, Sour Patch turned around and walked away—probably for the best.

Qimir whirled Osha around like a goddamn top. He wore the same heated look from earlier when she tried on his mask. Heat flared in her core. Her eyes went to his mouth, where he bit his lower lip in consideration—or perhaps the last vestige of self-control. What thoughts hid behind those eyes?

“Maybe if he wins tonight?” he repeated slowly, an eyebrow rising with incredulity.

“I think it’s fair,” she said, heart racing. She couldn’t remember how to slow her pulse down—couldn’t remember even with a knife to her throat. His hands on her made it hard to think, let alone breathe.

“Fair,” he chuckled. “Did I give you the impression that I was a fair person?”

“Yes.”

His eyes flashed a little. It reminded her how a predator’s eyes would glow at night. “You should rethink that.”

“I won’t.”

His jaw flexed. “Last chance.”

“No.”

“And what if I win tonight?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to watch The Godfather with me so badly.”

“You’ve no idea the things I want to do with you, Osha. Nor how badly I want them.”

They were standing so close. The shouting and cheering of the crowd below went quiet under the thundering of her heart, and even the lights went a little sparkly and out of focu—

She needed to breathe.

Her ragged inhale sounded like she’d surfaced after nearly drowning. Felt like it, too. Qimir’s face flickered in surprise but melted into a much more pleased expression. “You should go down to the cage, Osha,” he purred.

“Why?”

Because he can’t control what he’ll do next if you stay.

He didn’t have to say it for her to know it.

It wasn’t a dismissal, but his command certainly dictated she should go. Before she did, Osha surged forward to wrap her arms around him. “Good luck.”

He stiffened, and Osha held him tighter. After a few seconds, he returned the embrace and thanked her quietly.

“You know, you need to work on that,” she said once they pulled away.

He chuckled. “What?”

“Receiving hugs.”

His eyes sparkled with good humor. “Well, I might need to find a trainer if that’s the case.”

“I dunno, my schedule could be booked.”

“To the rest of forever?” he teased.

She shrugged and turned to walk away.

“If I win tonight,” he said, catching her wrist. “Maybe I can get a free trial pass?” He tilted his head to the side, ignoring the world around them.

Osha wrapped her hand around his bicep, one finger at a time, before she squeezed, digging her nails in just as he’d held her in his claws. She didn’t stop there. She leaned in so her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, “Win first. Then we can discuss the spoils.”

She didn’t stick around to see the look in his eyes, but she could feel it long after she joined the crowd.

Kana found her in the crush of bodies.

“You are gonna get squished, girl,” he laughed. He escorted her closer to the cage and assumed the duties of an immovable human wall behind her.

“Thank you!” she said cheerfully.

They chatted a little between matches. “How’s training going? Q train you on any weapons yet?”

“Nah, not yet. We’ve only sparred a few times, but not at full strength or speed. I gotta say, though… those look fun.”

The fighters in the ring clashed their broadswords together in a shower of sparks that fired up the crowd. They wore full-cage helmets, half-plate armor, and steel gauntlets. This was the last fight before the finale, and the energy was palpable, the scent of blood and sweat permeating the air.

Kana laughed, big and booming. “I’m sure you’d kick ass regardless of familiarity with the weapon, and that’s a hill I’d kill anybody on.”

He had such a way with words.

“…thank you, Kana.”

“I also guarantee you’ll be invited to the brawl just because everyone wants to see what he’ll do.”

She frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what he’ll do when you and Idise get in front of him at the same time.”

“Idise?” she said hollowly.

—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special—

“Did he not tell you? Q and Idise are pretty close outside’a here.” Kana looked concerned at whatever Osha was doing with her face, but he continued. “I’ve known him longer than anyone else here, but she’s been with him through some hard shit. A few people think Q and Idise were seeing each other on and off for a few years.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Think that they were together.”

She was trying to keep the jealousy snarling in her chest from leaping out her mouth. Osha had the urge to run back upstairs and leave a hundred purple kiss marks marking him as her—

“No. Q’s a lonely guy, and I think he prefers it like that. Him and Idise… I can’t tell for certain because they don’t really hang out, but I’m pretty sure whatever they got going on, it’s strictly on the platonic side. Things have been different recently.” He dared to wink at her, either willfully or unintentionally oblivious to her thunderous mood. “Since you came ‘round, and even before then.”

“Like what?” 

“Well. Few months back, this perfect storm starts brewing. Q dropped the fuck off the map the same time the fuckin’ Lance guy was let back in the gym.”

“Let back in?” she squawked. One of the swordfighters staggered back into the cage, rattling the whole circumference with the impact.

Kana nodded. “He said he was robbed of his nomination match and wanted a second chance to prove himself. Everyone here saw straight through that shit. Fucker just wanted to get back at Idise for embarrassing him. We all did our best to ignore him, and nobody said shit to his face, but shit was dicey; a lotta people questioned the PTB for allowing him back on the premises, let alone in the fights.

“But they did allow it. He signs up. His match night comes. He’s not fighting Idise, of course, but he wins. Q shows up in the last round after a month of silence and wins his eighth brawl in a row. Some people say they saw him talking with Idise later on, but he disappeared right after that. Bunch’a people started rumors about it.”

“What’d they say?”

“Well, someone asked Idise where he’d been, and she got all defensive about it, wouldn’t say. My guess is she didn’t know, and had gone to ask because she was worried about him. We all were.”

He’d been pretty wound-tight for a while, and it seemed like he needed that break two-ish months ago. We were all pretty worried when he took it so abruptly.

“Now, shit gets even dicier with the PTB. Not only do they invite Lance to the brawl, they invite Idise. Nobody’s heard from Q. Isn’t answering calls or texts. I don’t even think he replied to the invite email, don’t think he even looked at it. Lance and Idise avoid each other like the plague in the gym. And no, winning did not warm any of us to him.”

Osha jumped a little at the clang from a sword hitting a solid chest plate.

“Night comes. They call everyone in for the brawl, rah rah, Lance gets called—he was Dizzykid when it happened—it goes fucking silent in here. They call Idise in, coulda blown the fuckin roof off. Everybody expected Idise to go round two with this motherfucker, just put him back in his place same as before. I’d say ninety percent of the bets were on that. And do you know what happened when Smiley walked in?”

“What?” Osha said, mouth a bit dry. She wasn’t even pretending to look at the fight anymore.

“He looked at Idise in the cage and turned to Wise, asking, the fuck is she doing in here? Wise just smiled at him, then he pointed at Lance. Smiley asks again, what’s he doing here? And Wise just smiiiiles. Like he knew what was about to go down.”

Historically, those fighters are more likely to snap when provoked.

“—and let me tell you, it was brutal. The match starts, and within two minutes, Smiley is beating Lance’s face down to the first circle of hell. At the first drag-out, his work was done.

“Heard later that Q sent him to the hospital in the same condition Idise did ten years back—practically the same injuries. Did it in less than half the time it took her.”

Story ends with this guy getting sent to the hospital—all fucked up. Busted skull, broken wrists, nearly lost his eye…

“He disappeared again after that fight. I woulda too, if I left a guy looking like that.”

Not just entering the cage. The terrible things I’ve done to leave it.

“Is that why the yellow mask looks all…”

“Disgusting? Yeah. That thing was more red than yellow that night. They wash ‘em, but I doubt that stain will come out anytime soon. I thought they should just get a new one, but my influence ends at the top of the stairs, here.”

“What happened after?”

One of the swordsmen sent the other tumbling to the mat. The crowd roared as the downed fighter rolled left and right to avoid two-handed overhead strikes.

“Well, now that Lance was handled, everyone re-focused on where the hell Q went. Short of sending out Idise to go find him, we all tried to find out. But then… he just shows up one night, pretty girl in tow. Orders her hot soup and a hot toddy.” Kana winked at her just as the bell rang for the end of the match.

They applauded politely and spoke a little more freely now that they were in between matches. “That was the first anyone had seen of him outside the fights. Believe me, you were quite the gossip item. Especially when he started coming back to the gym, training again. Still wasn’t really talking to anybody, though.

“And then you showed up at the fights, and his whole deal changed when he started bringing you around. Follows you around like a puppy. Never seen him like that before.”

Osha could have sworn it was the other way around.

Before she could ask a single thing, a hush fell. The reverent silence that crashed over the crowd was the same as the one she felt a month ago. The masquerade is about to begin.

CHAPTER 15

[deleteddewewted]

Single Dad! Aizawa Headcanon

Aizawa x Gn! Reader

W/n: This is an Au where divorced Aizawa raises his daughter Eri all on his own till he meets the reader. He is not originally 1-A's homeroom teacher.

W: Single Parent Aizawa, Doctor! Reader, Parent Au, Eri is Aizawa's Biological Child, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Cheating, Hurt/Comfort

If you'd like to support my work (Check my Ko-fi and Throne!)

He's cautious with everyone especially people who interact with his daughter Eri.

She's his everything, his reason for waking up and doing his job. He'd be damned if he allowed someone to come into her life and hurt her.

That's why he was weary to date ever again.

His divorce with his ex-wife was messy. She wanted nothing to do with their daughter and it made it harder on him because he now had to explain to his daughter why "mommy" wasn't coming to see her.

He loathed his ex. She not only destroyed their marriage but she also left her own daughter in pieces.

Because of that, he vowed to never date or remarry ever again.

Love for himself was something he put on the back burner so he could dedicate his time to Eri and her healing since she needed to be put in therapy after the divorce.

He continued teaching and eventually found himself being transferred to the 1-A classroom as their homeroom teacher.

It came with a hefty bonus and greater responsibilities but it allowed him to have greater security.

He moved himself and his daughter to a more secure and safer part of the city that was closer to the school.

He got his daughter new toys and even got her a cat to keep her company while he graded papers at home.

He wanted to give her the safety she felt she lacked.

So when he met you, he struggled to keep you at arm's length.

His daughter was the only person he wanted to focus on but you kept worming into his heart and eventually invaded every thought.

You were a doctor who he started seeing after Mic recommended you.

You were good at your job, always managing to get your patients the best recovery plans and treatment so they could go back to duty.

You've reset his shoulder one time and on another just drawn blood to see if he's caught anything he should be working on.

According to you, his blood pressure is too high and he had to start limiting his caffeine intake.

You were perfect.

He felt the back of his neck and ears run hot whenever you were close by.

Your laugh was infectious and your presence was overwhelming.

You were perfect.

And you were great with children.

You made sure to always ask him about Eri.

You even made him lunch with the addition of a to-go box because you made extra for Eri.

You were a godsend and you didn't even know it.

He invited you to his apartment to meet his daughter.

Eri was weary of you at first, you were a stranger after all and she was still processing the separation.

She slowly started coming out of her shell as you started complimenting her clothes.

She was wearing a cat hoodie with a fur lining. Her slippers were matching but held the addition of little hat ears.

It was absolutely adorable.

As the night went on, Aizawa began relaxing as Eri seemed to like you and the conversation.

He's never seen his daughter smile too much around a stranger.

He kept inviting you over under the gauze of hanging out and that Eri misses you.

And he wasn't completely lying. Eri did adore you.

You were the only other thing she talked about. She begged her dad to keep inviting you just so you could show her more pictures of your cats which she had grown fond of.

You were a positive change and it was a little overwhelming to him because he never thought that someone could make his heart skip a beat ever again after his separation.

He asked you out when he was visiting your clinic for a check-up on an injury.

His nose had been broken and he needed you to reset it back into place and drain the blood out that clogged his sinus.

Through gritted teeth and bloody lips, he asked you out to dinner at his since he couldn't leave Eri alone.

"I'd love to go out with you. Why don't we make it a family-friendly date so Eri can spend time with us?" You were happy to include Eri and you were happy to have dinner with him.

He spent the time leading up to your arrival at his home stressing.

You were nothing like his ex-wife and he knew that.

But his fears still crept in as he made sure to clean up so his home looked presentable.

You arrived at his apartment in your regular clothing and brought with you treats for him, Eri, and their cat.

The night was a success and soon enough you found yourself helping Aizawa get Eri to her bed and tucking her in.

"Thank you for.... being understanding." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand while avoiding eye contact with you.

He'd understand if you found him to be too much baggage with his child and his career.

You were so nice to him and to his kid that he felt almost embarrassed that you were so kind.

"No problem, Shota. I hope we could do this again sometime soon. I love spending time with you and Eri." You kissed him goodbye as you left for your own apartment.

Since then, his mood has improved. His students notice it and so do his friends.

He gets injured less and his blood pressure is regulated.

He felt refreshed, new, and free.

You were nothing like his ex.

You were someone who he could rely on to have his back.

You were there when Eri needed help

You were a parent to her that she adored with all of her little heart.

You were the person who he saw himself spending the rest of his life with.

[shiroandblack]

[TW: abuse, suicide, incest, matricide, pyrophobia, underage sex, Freudian mother-son relationships, mental illness, SA]

PART II OF MY VAMPIRE FICTION PHASE: DIABOLIK LOVERS

I seperated it because this guy *slaps like Apollo slapped Patroclus* deserves their own post. Also, despite the dark romance/felony of it all the soundtrack absolutely slaps especially 'Gin no Bara'.

So basically priest's daughter gets trapped as a blood bank to 6 vampire brothers who are the sons of the vampire king who is fantastically creepy and yet never around except when he's pretending to be the school doctor, but you just know he's fucking shit up. Damn it, Karlheinz.

So these 6 guys, they all have issues. MASSIVE, MAJOR ISSUES. I mean, if you think Madara from Naruto has issues? These guys absolutely win.

Let's start in order of whoever I can remember most.

1. Shū

Ah yes, Shū the eldest brother. I will say that if I had to choose who I'm stuck in an elevator with out of any of these people, I would probably pick Shū. Shū is basically the eldest child and he is the son of Beatrix, Karlheinz's second wife. Did I mention that vampire king daddy had three wives at the same time? No, well it's gonna be pretty relevant later. So Beatrix was the typical high expectation mom, she constantly told Shū that he was the heir and told him to behave appropriately. Think Alicent and Aegon from House of the Dragon, but Beatrix was much more severe with Shū who for all intents and purposes, was just a kid who wanted to play around with other kids, instead of banging servants. Anyways, due to Trauma™ involving his best friend dying in a fire (started by his younger brother, but we'll get to that) he's pretty apathetic towards everything and everyone. But when he does care, he will indeed pull you out of a burning building despite his immense pyrophobia. I don't know how, but out of all of them I'd say Shū is the most well adjusted individual but then again, the bar is in hell. Also, fun fact, this guy once got a part-time job as a cashier which I find absolutely hilarious.

2. Reiji

He shares a mother with Shū, Beatrix. Basically while Beatrix was busy trying to get Shū to do whatever the hell an heir is supposed to do, Reiji was pretty much ignored. However, in the game Beatrix catches Reiji studying and was like "good job" genuinely complimenting him, but then Reiji was like "you're bothering me". So I don't know man. The anime made him more sadistic and psycho in terms of personality which I don't think was really needed cause he's plenty psycho already. He seems to be the most well adjusted, but keyword being seems. So because he was ignored by his mom, he pretty much tried to get Shū's attention but like most older siblings, Shū thought hanging out with his younger brother was uncool and so what does Reiji does? This vampire youngling sets a whole ass human village on fire, coincidentally Edgar is in that village. Reiji thought "great, now that Edgar is out of the way Shū will acknowledge me!" but no. Instead Shū just becomes apathetic and a shell of a person. To those of you who've read/watched Twilight, this feels very Aro and Marcus but unlike Aro who is genuinely worried that Marcus might off himself, Reiji just feels bitter and angry that now his elder brother is ignoring him even more. But that's not the cake, oh no, the cake is that Reiji killed his mother. I mean technically he hired a vampire hunter to do it (said vampire hunter being Yui's adoptive dad. You know, the priest who threw her to the wolves. Literally), but as she was killed because Cordelia (one of Karlheinz's wives) was making her so miserable with life Beatrix died with a smile and she was also proud because Reiji killed her because to vampires, part of being considered an adult is committing homicide. And this pisses off Reiji so much, cause he wanted his mom to beg him to spare her life out of some twisted desire of revenge and when that didn't end up happening. Well, Reiji is motherless and bitter now. The anime really did him dirty, because in the anime they made him super duper serious and just very stiff and constantly degrading Yui for just breathing basically. Whereas in the game, he's a lot more chill than he seems and while he casually insults Yui, he casually insults everyone and I have to say his insults are good. Also in the game, he actually smiles so much more but it's a very condescending and bitter smile it's the smile of someone laughing at the world for how screwed up it is. I will say that he does casually poison Yui several times to test out his poisons, but he always gives her the antidote when she starts exhibiting symptoms.

3. Ayato

Ayato is basically Gojo if Gojo had no human conscience. He acts childish because his mother Cordelia was basically the same way Beatrix was to Shū. Cordelia, however, tried to drown him because pookie couldn't like solve a math equation or some shit. The bar is in hell, but Cordelia is by far the most horrible out of the three mothers. Anyways, he's pretty much a man-child with a propensity for being an ass. He sleeps in an iron maiden (with spikes removed) because despite beds being a thing in their mansion, dude just likes it and he does try to shove Yui into an iron maiden (without the spikes removed) but Yui was not having it. I wouldn't want to be stuck in an elevator with this dude cause he would eat me and make me suffer while he's at it.

4. Laito

Unlucky number four and I have to say out of all the brothers, he is my least favourite. The reason? Well it's simple, he commits SA just by breathing. Also, he's the one to nickname Yui 'Bitch-chan'. Listen, I get that he was sexually abused by his mother and Cordelia did her absolute best to instill sex = love even if that sex is non consensual. But honestly? I don't get the point of his character. What was the point of Rejet making a character like him? Because he is just plain sexually abusive. If it was to show how the abused can become the abuser, there are much more nuanced ways to do it than have Laito SA Yui every five seconds or something. Also, if we're talking about "the abused becomes the abuser" all these characters are already stunning examples please save Yui.

5. Kanato

To anyone into HOTD, think Larys Strong but with a teddy bear and his childlike. Kanato seems the easiest to bear with cause of his childlike attitude. That is until his temper completely flips and the next thing you know, he's threatening to murder you and would actually go through it. Kanato had a very fucked up childhood of his mother making him sing her songs while she's out here banging her brother-in-law because Kanato singing apparently gets her into the mood. Kanato likes to collect dead corpses and stuff them like animals which is why there's an entire hall filled with all the sacrificial brides before Yui. He says he can't wait to add Yui to the collection.

6. Subaru

Now Subaru, Subaru is sadistic as all his brothers are and ill-tempered. This man be punching walls and tables and breaking everything. But he doesn't really raise a hand to Yui at all. I'd say other than his shitty temper and blatant sadism, he is moderately bearable. Why? Well he's got self-worth issues you see. His mother was seduced by her older cousin (his father) and when Krysta realised that Karlheinz didn't love her, she went crazy because he basically convinced her to commit incest which is apparently a no no in the vampire world. Krysta thought of Subaru as an abomination and treated him like crap, but she then would oscillate between thinking him an abomination and her a sinner and feeling guilty for hurting him. Subaru looked after his mother instead of the other way around.

Anyways, this is my long overdue rant of fucked up vampire anime.

[writingsfromhome]

Could you imagine doing some one shots from the If You Love Me story ? Like moments from when they were 17 or something?

Adore this! Wrote 3 from when they were 17-18…thanks for the suggestion!

If you Love Something (One Shots)

#1

It was finally here, the first day of my final year of high school.

“Y/N!” Taylor screeches from downstairs. She was so annoying!

I grab the clip from my desk and put my hair up, second-guessing the shirt I wore but another complaint from Taylor downstairs and I rush down.

“Stop yelling like a freak, jeez.” I tell her when we walk out.

“Mum!” She stalks towards the idling car, we were getting a ride for our first day. I wish I just walked.

My friends wait for me where we always met, and I barely get a word in as everyone compliments outfits, compares classes, talks about who glowed-up over the summer.

“Hey!” A hand grabs my shoulder when I walk in.

“Harry!” He’d been waiting just inside the entrance. I glance back at my friends and they wave, letting me know it was okay to stay with him.

My stomach flips, I didn’t want to suddenly turn into the girl that ditched her friends for her boyfriend. I rarely did that with Oli.

Maybe because you didn’t really like him like that.

“You alright?” Harry pinches his brow. I’d just been staring at my friends walking away.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Sorry did you wanna be with your friends?” His hand drops from my shoulder. I want to grab it, hold it like we’d been doing all summer. Just thinking of the summer makes my heart flutter. It had been a perfect summer.

“No! So? Are you ready for first day?”

“I am now,” he smiles at me. I was a puddle. I never dreamed that the bloke I had a crush on would be looking at me like this. And yet, I got this look any time I wanted.

He holds his hand out to me, it was a gesture. Inside the school halls, this would mark us as official to our class.

He notices my hesitation, and drops his hand. I look up at him and notice he’a trying to hide his disappointment.

“C’mon, before we’re late.” He says robotically.

Shite. I was overthinking this.

As we walk, I brush my hand against his. I glance at him but he stares straightforward. His throat bobs when I do it again.

Just do it, stop being a coward y/n!

I grasp his hand and he freezes for a second before intertwining our fingers. It feels like everyone stares when we do but I know I can barely make out a single face as the blood rushes to my face. This was it—Harry and I were school official.

He squeezes my hand and the buzz runs up my arm and straight to my heart. I squeeze back, wondering if it does the same to him.

#2

Y/N is waiting for me at car. It’s the first day of autumn and the air nips at our faces accordingly.

I savour in the few moments before y/n notices me; her hair is up in a high ponytail and unlike this morning, it’s gone wispy and it frames her face. I loved when it got like that, it reminded me of the first time I ever saw her.

It had been 3rd form, our first year in the new school. She was talking about the upcoming gcse with one of her mates. Her cheeks had been flushed, ponytail slipping down her hair, and talking a mile a minute. When she noticed me watching she had quieted down, turned so I couldn’t see her face.

Today, she brightens when she spots me; she never quieted around me anymore, she was louder than ever. It made me feel good, like I’d accomplished getting y/n out of her shell.

“Hiya,” her grin is infectious and I can’t help but return it. It was another of my favourite things about her. “You’re here early.”

“I ran here as soon as class was over!”

“Why?!” I always waited for her after class, especially if she lagged behind talking with her mates. She always waited when I spent extra time talking with mine too. It was something that was different to my last girlfriend—I’d always felt like I was wasting her time when I didn’t become available as soon as she was.

“I have something to show you!” I notice she’s clutching a piece of paper.

“What is it then!?”

I watch her flip the paper over, it takes me a second to understand. A maths test, graded in red. 84%.

“This is yours?” I take it from her and flip through.

“Yep! It’s mine! Written allllll on my own!”

“Y/N. You didn’t just pass—an 84%?”

“Right!” She does a little jump and shout that cracks me up. “Paid attention in class, studied for two days straight, and bob’s your uncle!”

“Bob’s your uncle!” I hold the paper up like a flag after a victory. She giggles and wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing me so hard I could barely breathe.

“You’re killing me here!” I choke.

“Sorry!” She releases me and I rub my throat.

“Baby!” She hits my chest. “I might actually be good at this?”

“Might actually?” I wave her paper. “That’s an 84%! i think you’re secretly a genius!”

She takes the paper back and flips through it, grinning at what she’s probably looked at a million times already.

“I’m proud of you,” I take her shoulders and shake her. “You worked so hard for this one!”

“I know, I even ignored you for two whole days. Hey…maybe that’s what’s stopping me from realizing I’m a mathematical genius!”

“If I remember correctly,” I lean against my car and watch her eyes twinkle. “I hooked you up with Khalil’s sister for tutoring.”

“Oi lovebirds,” someone says from the next car over, interrupting our celebration. “Move so she can get in?”

Y/N’s face drops at the sound of Mal’s voice. She was blocking his passenger door.

“A please wouldn’t kill you,” Y/N mutters. She flashes the girl a smile—someone I didn’t recognize. Probably because she was younger than us. The girl awkwardly smiles back.

“What’s that y/l/n?” Mal asks.

“Nothing.”

“Thought so.” He slides into his car.

Y/N yanks open his passenger door and bends down to be at the same level as him. She flips him off, “Fuck off Mal.”

“Sorry,” the girl whispers as she tried to get in.

“No get in. I opened the car door for you since chivalry is dead.”

“Just get in P!” Mal calls and the girl slides in, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“You really let him get under your skin,” I comment when y/n slams the door and Mal starts complaining.

“He spread a rumour when we were 10,” y/n turns to me. “That I had lice and when that didn’t work, that I was emo because I had burned my arm with a hot oven rack.”

“What?” I had never heard this story.

“Y’know the oven grill, it burned my inner arm! The counsellor got involved and everything!”

Mal backs out of his spot and lays his hand on his horn before leaving. This time both Y/N and I flip him off.

“I’m driving you home and you’re telling me that story.” I tell her.

She walks around the car to the passenger’s side, already continuing the story. As she talks in the car, I’m struck again how different she is to the girl I used to know. I used to think she was shy but I was just uninformed and without the privilege of her comfort.

When I drop her to her house she’s just finishing up.

“And the worst part is two weeks later he tried kissing me at the school dance. I kicked him right between his chicken twig legs and he called me a bitch. But he never tried anything like that ever again.”

“It’s amazing that I just assumed your hatred for him all these years was just because he was a prick.”

“Well that too.” Y/N glances at her house for a second. “I don’t think anyone’s home. Did you want to…?”

I look up at her house too. The last time I was inside was for a dinner a few weeks ago. It was my first time meeting her parents and I’m pretty sure it went well. They didn’t tell y/n to stop dating me or anything at least. So I took that as a good sign.

“We can celebrate?” She holds the crumpled test up and her face is hesitant but hopeful.

“Alright. Let’s celebrate.” I park the car.

The best things we can find is half a Colin and some Irn-brus. We take it up to her bedroom and eat it on the bed while we talk about our day.

“You should frame this,” I tell her later. We’re just laying side by side in bed, listening to some music she picked out. “When you’re famous in the future you can point to it and say that’s when my life turned around.”

“Yeah maybe then I can start a podcast called turning you life around 84%.”

“I’d listen to it.”

“I’d have one listener then.”

“No you’d have me, your parents, Taylor-“

“Taylor would say she has to hear my voice enough as it is. I’d have to mention her just to bait her into listening.”

“At least you’ve got the strategy figured out.”

“True,” she laughs. Taylor was a force to be reckoned with. Where y/n was quiet and shy before you got to know her, you knew Taylor as soon as she walked into a room.

I prop myself on my elbow and look down at y/n. She gazes up at me with my favourite smile gracing her lips. I kiss them. She tastes like sugar and the watermelon flavoured chapstick she always applied. I can’t get enough.

“What was that?” She asks when I part.

“What?”

A corner of her mouth quirks up, “You’ve never kissed me like that before.”

“No?” I press a kiss to her jaw. “I haven’t?”

“You’re a good kisser,” she says as I press another to her neck. “But that was different.”

Maybe this was the first time we were actually making out on a bed, or maybe I finally didn’t feel like y/n was gonna run away if I got too intense. We both knew we felt intensely towards each other but we hadn’t even said I love you yet—I didn’t want to rush things physically in case she wanted to hear those words first.

I know I was only y/n’s second boyfriend, and I never wanted to push it too fast for her so I was never demanding and always let her set the pace. But it seemed like she liked whatever pace this was.

“I’m celebrating your score,” I climb over her and kiss her again. She grips my shirt tight. “I have 84 kisses to deliver, that was the 4th.”

She flushes and I second guess saying that until she pulls me back to her, “4 and counting.”

Our teeth clash in the next kiss, but we get it right in the next one. My lips capture hers and it’s rough and hard and real. I trail kisses down her jaw, down her throat, counting each one until my head is too clouded by the smooth feel of her skin, and the smell of her around me that I lose count.

She reaches for my shirt first, tugging at it and I slip it off, going right back to kissing her once I do.

When she pulls at hers I pause, making sure this was what she wanted. She just keeps pulling me back. She was beautiful and intoxicating and everything my dreams were made of.

When she whispers my name, with my face buried in her neck, her back arching into me, it’s hard to stay in control.

“Come back here,” she whispers. She guides me back up to her lips and it’s hard to remember what happens next. Her fingertips leave a burning sensation wherever she touches them until they’re buried in my hair, every noise she makes makes me feel like I would burst into oblivion, especially when she says my name.

“You have to stop that,” I say against her skin.

“Stop what?” She gasps as I grind into her.

“Saying my name like that,” I will myself to pause, or just to slow down. It’s like coming down from a high, I’m seeing stars and I have to focus on the flowers on her bedsheet just to see straight.

“Why? What happened?” She’s breathing heavy as I lift myself a few inches off of her.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I say. I push her hair back from her face, by now it was completely out of the elastic and plastered over her face.

She looks a bit embarrassed and I try to explain it wasn’t a bad thing. “I just don’t want to take things too far. Plus your parents might come home and-“

“They’re both working late today,” she says automatically. “It’s Thursday. And Taylor’s at a friend’s. They’re picking her up on the way home so that won’t be for hours.”

“Y/N,” I didn’t realize she’d thought it all through. “I don’t want to rush into anything with you-“

“We’ve been dating for like, 3 months Harry that’s not rushing!”

“No I know I-“ I roll off of her, and she pulls her sheets higher. I lay my hand on her neck, hoping she would just look at me. “I know but we don’t have to go all the way today.”

“Why not?” She looks at me now, her eyes watery but still defiant.

“I-I don’t know! It’s your first time right? Don’t you want to-“

“It’s-“ she shifts backwards to my hand falls from her face. It sits lamely between us. When she asks her question her voice wavers. “It’s not yours?”

I thought she knew. But as a flush spreads up to her face and her eyes water again. I realize I’ve never said it explicitly.

“Was it Ally?” She asks again before I have a chance to answer.

Shite. I somehow feel like I’ve fucked this all up without even trying.

“It’s not my first time,” I say and it kills me a little when she looks dejected. She raises her eyebrow, waiting for me to answer her second question.

It hadn’t been Ally. Right before I started dating her I had met a girl over the summer. It was 2 weeks of flirting and hanging out that culminated in an awkward 4 minute session in which I had lied saying it wasn’t my first time and showed her just how big of a lie that was. I regretted it as it was happening, and I regret it especially now.

I could lie, say it was Ally, but I also know I couldn’t. Not with Y/N.

“No.” I simply say.

“Oh,” she sits up, tucking her knees up to her chest as her hair falling over her shoulder. She tucks it behind her ear, the way she always did when she was thinking hard or in this case, uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be,” she gives a quick huff. “It’s your life, nothing to be sorry about. I just um…well it’s stupid that I assumed…”

“It’s not stupid. I never really said and-“

“Yeah but I should’ve asked.” She draws her arms under her legs and rests her head on her knees. “Sorry. I’m like, spazzing out about the fact that it isn’t your first time when you’ve literally never said…”

“Hey,” I shift closer to her. “It’s good we’re having this talk now. For what it’s worth I’m sorry. For leading you on about that. The only reason I know it’s your first is because you’d mentioned it as a joke before. Otherwise I would’ve thought with you and Oli…”

She shudders at the thought and it breaks the awkwardness a little. I laugh and she turns her head to eye me, but there’s a small smile on her face. It feels like a white flag. I don’t know if we were even fighting just now but my heart is racing and I realize I was scared she was going to ask me to leave.

Before I could second guess it, I kiss her bare shoulder. “Is that 84? I sort of lost track.”

She shakes her head and buries her head back in her lap. Shite. Maybe that was too soon to make up.

“I’m pretty sure,” she says into her lap. “We’ve gone way beyond 84.”

When she looks at me the line between her brows are gone. Instead her laugh lines are in full display.

“You’ll just have to make up for it.” I kiss her shoulder again. “Keep those maths scores to keep up.”

“You just did that so I can’t blame you for getting bad grades.”

“Maybe,” I capture her lips in mine again. She kisses me back. It’s unhurried, like we had time and weren’t afraid to waste it.

I slowly guide her back down. We don’t talk about how far we were going to take it, but it’s agreed without saying that today wouldn’t be the day to go all the way.

We just take our time getting to know each other more, getting to hold each other more, until her phone pings and she informs me her parents were picking up Taylor.

We get dressed and I manage to make it home before her parents are anywhere in sight.

The whole way home, and for days after, all I can think about is Y/N and when I can steal another moment again. I’ve never felt like this for anyone before, I’d never been so consumed—physicaly, mentally, and emotionally by another person before.

That’s when I know for certainty that I loved her. I loved Y/N and I had to tell her.

#3

My foot taps away on the floor as I shove another chip in my mouth. For the last week I’d wanted the most insanely greasy foods, mum kept trying to stuff me with whole foods whatever that meant. The likelihood of keeping this baby was pretty slim so I don’t know why she kept feeding me like I was trying to stay healthy.

When I told Harry all I could think of were chips we’d set off after school to a local shop. I’m finally tucked in a corner with a steaming box of chips, ketchup, and something they called a house sauce.

“They only have this,” Harry puts an apple juice in front of me. He opted for a fizzy drink but they made me unbearably bloated these days.

“Whatever,” I reach for it. “Thanks Har, this has never tasted so good.”

“Anything,” he reaches for my hand. “Tell me whenever and I’ll get anything for you.”

I tilt my head at him, he really had stayed true to his word. He never made me doubt he was behind me in any decision I had made. We were really in this together.

“I think I’m showing a little,” I tell him.

“Really?” He glances down but I’m covered by the table.

“It’s not like, obvious. But if someone knew, it would be.”

My stomach that was usually pudgy had taken on a more rounder shape. That was it. But I had been clocking and cataloguing every change to my body ever since I found out. I’d become almost obsessive doing it.

He eyes where my stomach would be, a faraway look passing over his face.

“Anyway I heard from Tam and Andie that everyone’s trying to think of a senior prank? It sounds like a movie, but I’d be in. How about you?” I try to change the subject.

Truth to be told it killed me when Harry had that face. I know he was imagining the baby as ours, as something real and loved. I couldn’t afford to think like that, I couldn’t afford to get attached. It was already attached and growing inside of me.

“Huh? Oh I think I heard Khalil saying something about it. Do they know what they’re doing?”

“Nope,” I had no idea who they were either but I continue. “We still have months to go so I think they’re still planning it.”

Harry plucks a chip and chews it slowly, his eyes are roaming over my face. I clear my throat, what was he thinking?

“So,” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “If you’re free next Sunday I have another appointment. Cuz I’ve been so nauseous. Mum’s taking me but if you’re free we can just go together?”

“Yeah. Of course I’ll come. What’s making you so nauseous?”

I break down what smells were currently putting me off in the mornings. How I had to avoid Taylor’s questioning, but that she was so out of the loop she thought I had a stomach bug.

“Mum and dad keep hovering over me. It gets so suffocating sometimes.”

“They’re just worrying. My mum keeps asking how you’re doing too. Especially every time a new uni letter comes in.”

There’s a brief pause. Our friends had started accepting offers. Harry and I had got a few letters but I hadn’t decided yet. Harry was most likely staying in the city. I didn’t know what to do. We still had a lot to talk about.

He suddenly gets up and walks to my side, sitting down beside me. Just like always, being tucked into him just made me feel more relaxed. I feel the tension from our previous conversation melt ever so slightly.

“They’ll probably miss you when you leave,” he continues. I look into his emerald eyes and hold them. Unspoken words pass between us but neither of us jump to bring them to light.

I bite into the chip in my hand that had grown cold. Suddenly my appetite disappears and I push the box away, a fluttering feeling beating at my chest.

“Hey y/n,” Harry’s hand comes down on my back.

“Sorry,” I try to take a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” He leans down to peer into my face but I squeeze my eyes shut.

The weight of everything we still had to discuss, the fragility of the future, it threatens to suffocate me. This had started happening to me this month. Mum keeps saying Harry and I had to talk—the longer we went without discussing things, the harder it would be to pull myself out of these spells. I knew she was right but I wanted to avoid it just a little longer. Just to be as normal as we can for a little longer.

I find Harry’s other hand and hold it. He does what he always does, turning our hands so he can slot his fingers between mine. I focus on the movement, wait for the squeeze. I breathe better as I squeeze back.

“Alright?” Harry asks again.

“Yeah,” I finally look at him, the concerned etched around his eyes. I kiss his cheek. “I think I’m done with the chips.”

“Let’s get you home.” He rubs my back and stands, helping me up with him.

He’s attentive and supportive. He always had been but ever since the news he’d been gentle and even more thoughtful. I imagine him acting the same way if we did have the baby. He’d be such a good dad.

It makes me wonder how exactly he came into my life because I knew boys from school and nobody was like Harry. It felt like I’d caught a shooting star, both the wish and the star itself.

He helps me into my coat, I notice his eyes flicker to my belly.

As we walk home, hand-in-hand, we talk about random things. He kisses me goodbye on my front step and I catch his wrist before he goes. I position him in front of me, his back to the street, and unzip my coat.

He wants to say something but no words come out when he opens his mouth.

“It’s just rounder,” I fill the silence in. “You can feel the shape.”

His hand is big as it splays across my shirt. He inhales sharply and his eyes meet mine. It kills me like it always does, the way he looks right now. I put my hand on top of his and suddenly he starts to laugh.

“What?” Was he crazy? “Why are you laughin!?”

“This,” he puts his other hand over my belly and drags it down to outline the shape. “It’s all so mad isn’t it? It doesn’t feel real sometimes.”

“It doesn’t,” I try to laugh but it comes out like a wheeze. “It is mad.”

“We should talk,” he says. His face growing more serious. “Soon.”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

He wraps his arm around me and I slip mine under his backpack and his coat.

“I love you to the stars and back y/n,” he says. My heart flips as it always does hearing him say the words he’s said over a dozen times now. “We’re gonna figure this out.”

“Maybe Easter break,” I want to say but the door opens behind us.

“You two are gross,” Taylor says from behind.

“You’re gross,” I’m annoyed to remove myself from Harry because Taylor decided to ruin a good moment like always. “Why are you bothering us?”

“Taylor you want in on the hug?” Harry keeps his hands out behind me and I bite back my smile just to watch Taylor squirm uncomfortably. I was always glad Harry was on my side.

“Ew,” she eyes him.

“Don’t be shy,” Harry swoops past me and nearly pulls her in but she turns quickly and he catches her from behind instead. That’s when I laugh—when I see my sister being pulled into the air by my boyfriend.

“Taylor is love deprived,” I say with a laugh.

“Dad! Harry’s harassing me!” Taylor shouts as dad comes down the stairs. He pauses on the last step and takes in the scene.

“She interrupted our goodbye obviously she wanted a hug, dad.” I explain.

He simply sighs and resumes his walk to the kitchen. Harry puts her down and she tears away. I turn back to Harry and we burst out laughing.

“Thanks,” I tiptoe to kiss him. He cups the back of my head and kisses me back with a fierce intensity. He strokes my cheek. Our forehead touching as we drink the other in.

“I don’t ever want to lose you,” he suddenly whispers. Tears prick my eyes, the sentiment echoing back inside of me.

“We won’t,” I hold his face in my hands. “We see each other remember? You won’t ever lose me.”

I watch him walk away, a heavy melancholic feeling crushing me. I hadn’t lied to him, but I think by the time we graduate we were going to lose something. It scared me not knowing what.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[cheesysoup-arlo]

prompt for you hehe :3

“I swore to myself that I would never ever catch feelings for someone like you, so I won’t get hurt. but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same way about it, about me and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass myself once all of this is over!”

Never gonna happen (but it did) Capri x Reader

Capri had been…nice…to you. Capri Donahue and nice were never a combination you thought you would say but here you were.

For context: After the incident (the being electrocuted/“dying”/ coma situation) Capri had returned to school. A few weeks after her return Capri and her boyfriend broke up on surprisingly good terms, they both felt a new disconnect between them and thought it would better if they broke up. To much of your dismay you got paired with Capri for a project, you assumed she wouldn’t be much help, you had worked with her before and to say it was horrible would be an understatement. She wouldn’t do anything. Didn’t communicate, didn’t do the research, she didn’t even show up for the presentation, literally no help. However this time was different it was like a whole new Capri. “So partner, wanna meet at the library after school?” She asked “huh?” You replied surprised that 1. She was talking to you and 2. That she was actually talking about the assignment.

As you two worked on the two week long assignment you got close.

Capri approached you at lunch “Hey Y/n, wanna come over to my place after I finish cheer practice? We could work on the project a little then like maybe watch a movie or something fun?” Capri asked, you looked up at her a little surprised “uh yeah sure” you said as nonchalant as you could muster. Later that day you two hung out, had some genuine fun, laughed together, and did a little bit of the project. Maybe Capri wasn’t as bad as you thought.

Though the project was finished and the due date passed, you and Capri kept in contact, texting, calling, and sometimes even hanging out after school. The closer you got with her the more you enjoyed her company and longed for her when she wasn’t around.

Wait- no…no it couldn’t be! You-you have a crush on CAPRI DONAHUE?!?!

Oh this is the worst

Out of everyone you know? After how rude she was before the incident? You really had a crush on HER?

Unfortunately the answer was yes, you do have a crush on Capri

You hung around her more, your stomach felt fluttery, your face felt warm when she complimented you…definitely a crush BUT Capri would never feel the same, she’s a straight cheerleader girl who dates any boy she wants and gets attention all over school…the complete opposite of who you normally go for

“Y/n what’s wrong you’ve been quiet and like staring at me?” She said and you just broke spilling your guts out to her “I swore to myself that I would never ever catch feelings for someone like you, so I won’t get hurt. but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same way about it, about me and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass myself once all of this is over!” You said tearing up a bit and getting up to leave “Y/n wait” she called out “no no I don’t wanna hear your pity for me” you said walking away with a scoff, she grabs your wrist “Y/n listen to me” you reluctantly look at her making eye contact “are you listening?” She asked, you turned away and stayed quiet “Y/n?” Looks back up at her “…yeah” you say calming down slightly “why do you think I don’t feel the same?” Capri asked kind of hesitant “because you’re straight?” You replied a little confused “oh yeah and what gave you that idea?” Capri said with a head tilt “I- well um you know…you’re in cheer, you’ve only dated dudes all of high school actually all of like forever, and like I’ve never heard you say anything like gay ever…” Capri laughs a little “well I see your point but I happen to be bisexual not straight” she says with a smile “wait really” you say genuinely surprised “yes y/n your ‘straight girl’ crush is actually bi” you’re at a loss for words “y/n?” She asks noticing your silence “ you’re bi…” you said quietly, she nods “and I like you back” she says with a wink “WHAT!” You shout, surprised then quickly covering your mouth, she laughs a little “I have a crush on you y/n, I thought that was obvious?” She says looking at your shocked appearance, you stare at her, “sooo?” She says hoping you say something “I um wow ok so you like me? Like for real?” You say trying to convince yourself “oh my gosh yes y/n I like you, is that really so hard to believe?” She says almost laughing a little “yes it’s hard to believe, you’re so pretty and smart and popular and I’m just-“ she cuts off your rambling “y/n you’re amazing and kind and beautiful, don’t even think about talking badly about yourself” she says holding your hand. You don’t respond but you look at her, words failing you, silence building until you mumble, “I really wanna kiss you right now” she blushes “I wanna kiss you too” she says with a smile, you both lean in slowly but she gets impatient and pulls you in faster kissing you softly yet passionately, you mutual pull away after a bit “wow that was amazing” you say blushing “yeah, you’re good at that” she says and her arms rap around the back of your neck. “Sooo…girlfriends?” She asks causing you to blush “yeah, yes! girlfriends” you say with a stupid lovesick smile, “bye y/n, I’ll call you when I get home, ‘kay?” She says not letting go yet “leaving so soon” you say with a small pout “sorry hun the student athlete life is very busy, I’ve got homework” “aw ok, can we call while you do homework?” You say hopeful “yeah duh” she gives you a quick kiss “bye” she says with a wink and a wave “b-bye Cap” you say watching her walk away

You have a girlfriend, not just any girlfriend, CAPRI DONAHUE, your Capri

A/N: I WROTE SOMETHING…well I finished something that had been in my drafts for a month but YAY I POSTED LOL

[aemonds-wifey]

A Stolen Kiss Over Wine

Chapter 1

Summary: After a painful break up , your best friend Aegon is there to help you get over your heartache …

“Wha…do you mean…?” You asked with confusion.

You sat on the couch, alone in your loft apartment talking to your boyfriend Jacob. You had been together for about four months, he was lovely , bookish but something was missing from his interactions with you…after every kiss or hug you needed more. In the bedroom he was…nothing to boast about but more than satisfactory. You had met him through work, you had landed your dream job as a proof reader for a publishing house- reading books for a living. Amazingly you had the loft apartment you dreamed of, High windows and ceilings, rustic kitchen , open spaces and a master bedroom with an en suite and walk in wardrobe. You considered yourself very lucky. Meeting Jacob was the cherry on the cake.

And yet a mere 16 weeks later here he is…breaking up with you over the phone.

“So that’s it…Jesus Jacob this couldn’t have waited? I was suppose to see you in an hour!?” You were angry, hurt and incredibly mystified.

“Go to hell Jacob . Just go to hell!” You shouted throwing the phone across onto the large lounge chair.

You laid back on the couch and felt your heel kick the cushion breath your feet. You then groaned as the door knocked twice. You got up and opened the door, your best and oldest friend Aegon stood there looking chipper as always, he wore a dark green coat with grey jumper and solid blue jeans he looked very chilled. His hair slightly ruffled.

The smile on Aegon’s face faded as he saw your annoyed expression “Bad Time?” He said - looking at your attire. Perfect. You thought. Your hair was half up in a messy bun, wearing your old Bowie t shirt and your ladies burgundy boxers.

Aegon smirked as you failed to answer “Jacob not up for it ?”

You shrugged “No he…we broke up.”

He immediately stepped in and closed the door behind him, he wrapped you in a hug

“Ahhhh Y/N I’m sorry.”

His familiar musky scent strangely reassured you as you felt calmer. He placed his hands on your shoulders and looked at you “Forget him.” He reached inside his coat pocket and produced a bottle of red wine.

“Aegon wha…” you said as you watched him go to the kitchen , you followed him “Please tell me you don’t just carry one of those around ?” He removed his coat and tossed it onto the back of the couch.

He reached up the top shelf above the sink and brought down two wine glasses , as he opened the bottle he looked at you “If I tell you my reasoning …you’ll hate me”

As he picked up the glasses and the bottle you folded your arms “Aegon if anybody around here is gonna be truthful you know it’s you.”

You and Aegon had been friends since the first years of school, you rarely argued and were the very definition of best friends. You admitted he has grown up into an attractive man, and he occasionally complimented on how you had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. But he was your best friend and the idea of being with him had never crossed your mind.

He chuckled as you both strolled to the couch he put the glasses down on the table and held onto the bottle , you kept your eyes on him as you sat down

“Jacob was a looser …you were too good for him. I knew…if you came to your senses or worst case scenario he’d be an idiot and dump you then…” he said wriggling the bottle in his hands.

You sighed “I …thanks. You always have the answer….”

He shrugged “I know how to look after you .”

You nodded “ Still sucks getting dumped.”

He sat down putting the bottle on the table , he lightly patted your knee , your legs were smooth and he picked up on that... As his hand did not move. He squeezed it slightly before folding his arms against his chest.

“I must have missed Jacob on my way up- don’t tell me he took the lift?”

Aegon asked

You cleared your throat “He ..rang me. Ended things over the phone.” You said

Aegons smile faded “He what?”

You shrugged, reassuring the fact that Jacob had in fact ended things with you over the phone. “Legit two minutes before you knocked.”

“What a dickhead.” Aegon said leaning forward and pouring the wine into your glasses.

He held up his glass with a cheeky grin “Here’s to you Y/N. Free of that idiot….and here is hoping the next man you hook up treats you right.”

You chuckled and clinked your glass with his “Cheers.”

That first bottle of wine did not see the next hour, you had ordered pizza to share to help soak up the alcohol, it did not help.

Much though as you felt slightly tipsy as the night continued to see you and Aegon sat in the living room

Drinking your sorrows away. Aegon had switched on some music, streaming his playlist consisting of a mixture of his favourite tunes as well as his own compositions.

You were sat on the floor in front of the table , Aegon remained on the couch looking so cozy and relaxed.

As you leaned over to top up your glasses you noticed the bottle was empty , you jumped to your feet slightly unsteadily to which Aegon laughed “You be careful…I’m not first aid trained!” He giggled.

“You’re a music teacher shouldn’t that be a thing?” You pointed out.

He laughed “The most chilled of subjects to teach.” You chuckled as You wondered over to your bookshelf , moving a few books and grabbing something.

“Where are you going ?” He asked

You returned holding a bottle of Johnnie Walker

“Oh …why not .” He held up

His glass and you clumsily poured some in his and in your own.

“Do you remember when we went to the Johnnie Walker experience in Edinburgh?” He asked leaning forward towards the table.

You nodded giggling slightly “that was a good couple of days…we should go back there soon.”

“Round Two Y/N?” He said picking up his glass and inhaling the Smokey whisky scent.

You raised your glass “Yes! Let’s go there again!” You took a sip and felt your inhibitions getting looser. Aegon too was slightly tipsy as he almost missed the table putting his glass down “Bad influence you are.” He said as you poured more into his glass. You didn’t respond, only laughing a little.

“You trying to get me drunk?” He asked smiling

“Doesn’t need s lot of trying Aegon your such a light weight.” You chuckled

“Pot kettle black.” He grinned.

You playfully patted him on the shoulder before returning to the floor opposite him. “Come on cheer me up…how’s Zoe?”

He didn’t nod with huge excitement but he smiled only slightly “Yeah she’s…great.” Aegon had been dating this girl Zoe whom you only met a few times, she seemed nice but she wasn’t very warm to you.

You tilted your head slightly taking a sip of wine “Oh? Trouble in paradise?”

He took a drink of wine and swirled the glass in his hand “I like her and she’s nice ….but I don’t know…” his voice trailed off as he bit his lip upon reflection, you were drawn to it and quickly masked your expression by taking another drink.

“You’ve only been…going out what? A month?” You asked “Still early days Mate.”

He nodded “I suppose.” He smiled over his glass.

He suddenly sprung to his feet, standing near you to lean down and reach for a slice of pizza. He picked one up but dropped it when the next song came on.

“Ohhh yes come on this song!” He said excitingly. “We need to dance!” He suggested.

You felt too comfy on the floor , your legs crossed you shook your head

“I’m Not…oh hey come on…” you mumbled .

He held his out “dance with me.”

You took his hand, in one almost effortless swift move he had got you to your feet , he pulled you in close.

The song changed and it happened to be one of your favourites , he leaned over and turned it up.

“You love this song…” he said with a giggle

Heaven by Chris Rea was one of your most cherished songs, you nodded as Aegon held you close and began to sway you slowly in rhythm to the music . You felt so at ease dancing together , Aegon dipped you - not taking your eyes off him , your arms looped around his neck as he brought you back up. His hands rested on your hips as the song started to slow, suddenly your foreheads were resting against each other

“This is nice…” he whispered

“Mmm…feels good…” you responded very quietly.

Your eyes met, the setting sun beams were unable to bridge a gap between you as you blinked once , Aegons head turned slightly and you felt his wine soaked lips met yours slowly but firmly. The sensation was tingling up your nerves, you opened your lips a little and felt his tongue crawl in your mouth- exploring every corner as your hands cupped his neck. You moaned at this touch, you wanted , no needed more. He squeezed your hips as the kiss deepened, you felt his hand move up to your hand and his fringes brush though your hair before settling it holding the back of your neck . Your tongues now battling for dominance - he also let out a slight moan as one of your hands palmed against his chest.

Reality pulled you both back slowly as the kiss broke, you looked at each other , lips mere inches apart. Still pressed against each other you whispered “Aegon…”

He nervously bit his lip briefly “Yeah…?” He replied just as quietly .

“I think…Tha…” the alcohol had got the better of you, your head started to spin as a result of the intoxicating elixirs and the rush of kissing Aegon. Your eye lids fell too heavy to stay awake, before you knew it you were drifting away into sleep.

He held onto you as you failed to stay awake ,

“Whoah Whoah steady.” He said with concern. Your head fell into the crook of his neck and he smiled warmly.

“Y\N? You okay?” He said as he shook you once gently to check if you were awake. He laughed once. He managed to walk you to your bed and gently lower you down, pulling the cover over you - before quickly fetching a bucket and placing it by your bedside table. He took one look at you and rested his fingers on his lips for s moment, before retreating to the door, leaving your room

But not taking his eyes off you as he left the door only open slightly. He made his way to the couch , collapsing onto it in a drunken haze, before finally letting his eyes close and drift off into slumber.

☀️

As you woke the next morning your head aches with a crunching headache that stung, you fluttered your eyes awake properly trying to piece together the evens of last night. You remembered talking to Jacob and then Aegon showing up…you slowly moved your hand up to your face, your fingers ghosted of your lips, you could still taste the bittersweet red wine on them…when you wet your lips with your tongue it hit you. You remembered …you kissed your best friend last night.

Chapter 2

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[maochira]

IN THE SPOTLIGHT; First Selection; chapter 3: you can’t start from where i am

Blue Lock x transmasc!reader; reader is currently referred to with fem terms and pronouns until they discover they’re transmasc; series masterlist

Blue Lock; block five. Team Z’s monitor room. 1 am.

“You really did great in today’s match against Team Y”, Chigiri compliments as he replays the footage, “Sometimes I envy you.”

“Huh? Why’s that?” You tilt your head. To be honest, despite rewatching match footage with him every night, there’s barely anything you know about Chigiri. All he does is talk about you, rather than about himself. The way he does it comes off as if he’s actively avoiding to share anything about his own life.

“You aren’t exactly competing with everyone else the same way.” Chigiri pauses for a moment to turn his head in your direction. “I mean, everyone else is competing to be part of the national team. For you that’s kind of given… Since you’re the only girl here.”

What’s this odd pressure that always appears in your chest as soon as someone refers to you as a girl?

Due to the lack of a response from your side, Chigiri continues to fill the silence.

“You’re still competing to become the world’s best striker. But for you it’s more like-“

“But there’s still that rule that if I got eliminated at any point, I have no chance at being part of the national team.”

“You really think they’d do that?” An amused chuckle between Chigiri’s words. “I doubt they’d forever ban Japan’s Supernova even if you lost here.”

“I’m not risking to find that out, though. I’ll end up on the top of Blue Lock anyways.”

Chigiri can’t help but smile at your determination. “Wouldn’t expect anything else from the Supernova.”

“But what about you? You always seem so… nonchalant about everything that’s happening.”

Hopefully you finally get Chigiri to open up at least a little bit. He’s definitely hiding something.

“…I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I won’t tell the others, I promise. I just want to know more about you.”

Chigiri doesn’t immediately give in. But after a few minutes you finally crack his shell.

“Alright, alright…” Chigiri sighs and leans back, focusing his eyes on the big screen in front of you two rather than looking at you. “Growing up, I used to be the best player no matter who I played with. I mean, I was only on girls teams so a part of me thought maybe it’s just because none of my teammates were interested in becoming a great player in the future. Honestly, I’ve never met a girl who’s competitive in soccer until I met you. But anyways, when I started high school I started on their boys team and…”

Chigiri goes on to tell you about his injury, how long it took him to recover and how he hasn’t allowed himself to run at full speed ever since.

But one thing he said is stuck in your mind the most.

“Why did you only play on girls teams until high school?”

“I grew up as a girl.” Your confused expression amuses Chigiri. “What I’m saying is that I’m trans.”

“…OHHHHH.” You mentally facepalm as the realization hits you. Everything makes sense now. Not only his backstory, but also the way he’s been behaving around you and the rest of the team. You always thought he was just shy, but now it makes sense that he would always - just like you - look for another room to change his clothes and always was the last one to take a shower when everyone else was already in bed.

You decided to ask no further questions to avoid making him uncomfortable. At that point you got too tired anyways and ended up going to sleep.

You can’t help but wonder, is Chigiri bothered by the nicknames he’s constantly referred to, like “princess”? He never seemed to mind them. But some part of you wonders…

If he isn’t bothered by the nicknames and teasing, why do you feel so odd every time someone points out that you’re a girl?