#how did i get high grades. dude. like everyone says teachers know when a kids bullshitting but like

[narutomaki]

I always get self conscious when people talk about the amount of thought the goes/went into their art because there is.

there is no upper processing happening when I'm designing a character or background. my hand starts moving and my brain shuts off. I recognize there was probably a point in my life where this WASN'T the case but. like. it's why my art is like. mostly flat and lifeless. my art is never intended to tell a story because when I intend to I get angry/frustrated to the point of wanting to break shit because it's not going right. and I've tried to tell stories with my art both comics and stand alone pieces and it all feels fake or flat or.

idk.

I've TRIED to start and finish a piece where I've made conscious choices beyond "does this look good/right" and "am I being offensive in ways I'm aware of with anything here" but it just. makes me want to scream.

I learned people told stories with their art and I tried to and I stopped drawing for 5 years despite having. before that point been doing art studies for 8 to 10 hours a day for. 2 years.

I mostly just think it's because I have nothing to. say.

I can't add anymore tags to this post??? homophobia.

any way this post is useless idk I'm just sad because people do this thing so easily and enjoy it when it makes me break down crying. I don't get it. every person I've known regardless of neurodivergency has been able to do this consciously to some degree and enjoy it and meanwhile my stupid ass is asked how/why i chose something and I just. shrug. idk

looked nice?

[tunaababee]

we will be everything we say - Chapter 3

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 3.3k // updates Mondays (aest)

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: sorry for the delay today, had a big weekend! this is one of my favourite chapters so far. i hope you all like it!! :)

Chapter 3: fifteen and sixteen

High school was already rough as it was for Rhysand. Trying to stay on top of his grades, meeting the expectations his father had for him, attempting to stay on the good side of all his teachers despite all the trouble he managed to constantly get into regardless of his best efforts. All of it was made slightly easier, though, by his friendship with Feyre and how the two of them persevered despite it all. She had never faltered in her loyalty and care since the day in the park that they had met as small children, and Rhys never hesitated to return it all in kind. Azriel and Cassian were practically brothers to him, Amren was wise beyond her years somehow and Mor was… well, Mor. He loved them all so much, but he never quite clicked with all of them the same way he did with Feyre. It was like they could read each other’s minds.

But soon, maintaining that deep and important connection with her was going to be a bit more difficult than he had hoped – his father had told him that they were moving within the fortnight.

It wasn’t anywhere too far away, only a handful of suburbs over in Velaris, but they had been on the same street together for almost as long as Rhys could remember. Living so close to Feyre felt almost as natural as breathing, so the idea of adjusting to an atmosphere without her in close orbit was nerve-wracking to say the least. There wouldn’t be any sense of excitement when he heard his front door unlock, or any quick escapes to the Archeron household anymore. He couldn’t help but resent his father for it.

“Dude, the fuck do you mean you haven’t told her yet?” Cassian spat out in surprise, the two of them keeping pace with each other during gym class. “Feyre will want to know, and it’s not exactly going to be subtle when one day she sees another family moving into your old place.”

“I know, I know. I haven’t been keeping it from her on purpose, I just… Finding the right time is difficult! I don’t want to tell her at a time when it’s gonna stress her out or something.”

“Rhys, you’re moving to the other side of town. It’s gonna stress her out at least a little no matter what.”

Rhys huffed a little at him with a defeated look - he always hated it when Cassian was right about these things, but it was one of the reasons he loved him, too. Underneath that mess of a man-bun and the muscles he was trying so desperately to continue to build was a heart of gold like no other, and it was exactly why he thought of him like a brother. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just- she’s my best friend, y’know? I love her a lot, and I fucking hate that I’m gonna have to tell her because I know it’ll hurt.”

“Believe me, buddy, everyone knows you love her.” A small wiggle of his eyebrows accompanied his sentence, but Rhys swiftly elbowed him in the side without a second thought. Cassian’s hands launched to where he’d made impact, face contorted in some mild pain and discomfort.

“Fuck off, she’s my best friend.” Rhys chuckled, smiling a little at him.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, man,” Cassian wheezed out, grumbling to himself as the two kept running.

The worries about how he would break the news of his impending move kept swirling in his mind like an inky whirlpool throughout the rest of his classes, distracting him from Feyre who was walking right beside him out of the halls of Prythian High at the end of the day. She had been talking about how she was struggling with her reading for English class – she’d never been a big reader, let alone one for analysing texts – as he looked over at her when they walked through the doors and out into the golden sun beating down relentlessly in the spring afternoon. The light hit her face and it broke him from his worries and launched him directly into a different kind of stupor. The curls of her hair, the stunning steely blue of her eyes, the soft pink of her smiling lips being hit by the sun just right to make it almost look like she was glowing next to him as they walked.

She was perfect.

He elected to adamantly ignore the twist in his heart at the thought – she was his best friend, of course anyone would think their best friend was beautiful. Best friends are meant to be the person to hype you up, anyway. It was perfectly normal, and he shoved the feeling to the side in his head as he wrenched his gaze forward onto the pavement in front of him.

“…So anyways, I’ve never really been one for maximalist work, but Miss Stryga seems to only love works that are so busy and cluttered. I have no idea what I’m going to do for this next – Rhys? Hellooo?” Feyre waved her hand in front of his face with a confused expression. “Earth to Rhysand?”

“Huh? Sorry - sorry, you were saying about Miss Stryga?” Rhys scrambled to catch back up with what she had been saying, only half-listening as he had been waxing poetic to himself.

“I was saying I don’t know what I’m gonna do for this next assignment for her since I prefer more minimalistic abstract. Geez, you’re all over the place today.” She laughed lightly to herself, shaking her head a little bit at him.

“Yeah, my bad… I think I might have overdone it at soccer practice today or something. Just been really tired lately.” He rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck slightly to emphasize his point. In reality, he had barely been able to give his all at soccer today whatsoever because of everything on his mind, but that was between him and the coach’s extra ten laps he’d been given.

Feyre quirked an eyebrow, her face concerned as she tried to break through the slight walls he was putting up. “You’re not up late at night playing WoW or something again, are you? Because I’ve seen you active on Skype late at night sometimes, and I know you got way deeper into it than you ever meant to.”

“How would you know if I’m up late playing games unless you were up late too, hmm?” He smirked at her with a feline grin, trying to get a slight rise out of her. There was nothing he loved more than their dumb, spirited arguments about everything and nothing at all.

Feyre’s mouth opened and closed a few times listlessly as she tried to come up with an excuse, Rhys nudging his side playfully into hers as they strolled down the pathway beneath green trees and next to gardens in full bloom. “Well, I- I’m not- That’s different, I’ve been trying to get work done!”

“Uh huh. Am I right in assuming that the work you’re doing involves watching Ouran High School Host Club or something in some capacity?”

A sheepish expression crawled up on her face, cheeks slightly pink. “…Maybe. I can’t work without background noise, what can I say?”

“See, now I know that’s a lie, because you’re always going on about how you prefer subs to dubs. While I’ve been busy studying the virtual blade, you’ve been busy being nerdier than I am.”

Feyre’s mouth was agape in mock offence, looking at him with her hands on her chest as if she had been mortally wounded. His eyes were definitely only on her hands, and not slightly lower at all. He was so respectful and focused on their conversation right now, it wasn’t even funny.

“Wow. I don’t think I’m ever going to recover from that. You’ve killed me. I’m going to fall to pieces and rot.”

“You’ll live, darling.” He put a sarcastic, joking emphasis at the end, mussing up her hair slightly with a laugh as she tried to swat his hands away. Feyre practically jumped toward him to try and mess up his own hair the moment he backed off. Unfortunately for Feyre, ever since he’d started high school he’d only grown taller and shown no signs of stopping even now in his sophomore year. By now he was almost a head taller than her, having to look down a little to talk to her. 

A small sigh escaped him as they continued to walk, most of the other kids on their way home having split off in their own directions, leaving the two of them the only ones roaming through the quiet roads on the way back to their street. A small pit of dread formed in his stomach when he recalled that he didn’t have many of these walks left with her - they were one of the favourite parts of his days. He didn’t have to be the soccer team captain or the cocky troublemaker or the perfect son with the perfect looks and the perfect grades. He could just be Rhys. No expectations, no roles to play, no masks to wear.

Just Rhys and just Feyre.

He had to tell her and he was going to hate every fucking second of it.

“...Hey, uh, Feyre, can we talk a sec?”

She stopped a few steps behind him, Rhys stopping to turn to her when he realised she wasn’t following alongside him.

“I thought that’s what we did every day anyways, what the fuck are you talking about?” She looked completely puzzled.

He brought a hand up behind his head, looking down a little awkwardly. Rhys could feel his heart pick up pace.  “I mean, yeah but… Like, serious talk for a second.”

Feyre caught up with him, the two of them continuing to walk together - Rhys could only focus on the expression of pure concern and worry on Feyre’s face. She was too good to him.

“You certainly sound serious. Is everything okay? You know that if your dad is being shitty again, you’re always welcome at mine - it’s pretty much your home, too.” Her hand came to lightly rest on his bicep, her eyes boring into him to try and read his expression. To glean even an ounce of what was going on in his head.

“No, it’s not like that- I mean, sorta? But not in that way. Promise.” Rhys tried to reassure her, not wanting her to think that he’d acquired any more bruises that weren’t from falling on his ass at soccer practice.

“As much as you’re trying to reassure me, it’s not exactly making me less worried.” She squeezed his arm lightly. His chest felt tight.

“Fair play, I guess. Um… Y’know how my dad’s been really busy with his business and everything lately?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, it’s been going good. Like, really good. But…” The dread gnawing at the pit of his stomach continued to grow and grow, getting heavier by the second.

“Rhys, I am begging you to just be straight with me right now.”

“He’s making us move.”

“...Oh.”

The two of them had stopped walking, facing each other as Rhys’ tongue began to feel like lead in his mouth. He knew he had to keep going, to explain to her that he wasn’t moving too far away, that they just wouldn’t be on the same street, but the expression on her face in that moment nearly broke him. Fuck. Fuck, this isn’t how he had wanted this to go. Then again, if he had his way, none of this would be happening in the first place. The silence stretched between them, tense and taut and ready to snap like a rubber band.

“I-It’s not as bad as it sounds-”

“Do you know where?” It was obvious she was trying to hold back tears, lip quivering slightly and eyes glassy.

“Just a bit further away, the other side of town - Velaris. I’ll still be in Prythian, just- just not Wildebloom. Only a handful of suburbs over.”

Rhys thought that reassuring her would have helped quell her worries and make her feel relieved, but instead he only saw her grimace deeply before pushing him roughly by the chest.

“You couldn’t have fucking opened with that? I thought you were leaving town or something - fucking hell, Rhys!” Feyre sniffled, wiping at her eyes a little as she tried to collect herself. The fact that he’d made her cry, even without intending to, made his stomach twist into guilt-ridden knots. He tensed for a moment, not wanting to overstep or seem like he was trying to condescend to her, but every bone in his body was screaming at him to comfort her somehow. His hands balled into tense fists for a moment at his sides before he let out a long exhale, willing the tension and compulsion to subside.

“I’m sorry. I just… I hadn’t said anything because I was really hoping that whatever my dad was planning didn’t work out, but then it did, and knowing it in my head was one thing. But telling you? That makes it all so real, and I fucking hate it. I know we’ll still see each other at school and we can still hang out, but it’s… You and I both know it’s not the same.” Rhys couldn’t have stopped himself rambling if he tried, desperately trying to make Feyre understand and make her feel even just a touch more at ease. He hated nothing in this world more than seeing her upset.

She took a deep breath, pausing a moment before jerking her head forward in the direction of the way they had been walking. Rhys quietly followed, falling into step beside her again in the most uncomfortable and tense silence he’d ever experienced. She kept close to him, occasionally sneaking glances at him as they walked in silence, breaking her gaze away from him whenever he caught her looking. Soon enough, they were approaching their little street in the distance - they could already see Rhys’ house from here.

This is not how Rhys wanted to spend one of the few walks he had left with her.

Feyre broke the silence first.

“...When are you leaving?”

“Two weeks.”

“And how long have you known you’re leaving?”

“...Also about two weeks. I’ve been freaking out about how I was going to break it to you the whole time.” Rhys could see her wince a little, dragging her hands down her face with a sigh that weighed on his shoulders heavily. Guilt continued to snake up from his stomach, twisting around his neck now - tight, suffocating, tangible.

“I’m assuming the rest of our friends know, then?” There was a slight venom in her words.

“Not for long. A few days or so, I think?”

She paused for a moment, considering everything. Their pace was slow and meandering, almost at a complete standstill - Rhys didn’t want to go home without knowing that Feyre was alright, that they were going to be alright. Feyre looked up at Rhys, her face still slightly pained, but there was a softness there that wasn’t present a moment ago.

“I know you. I know you would have wanted to find the perfect moment to tell me that you were moving, at a time and place that I would have been able to easily accept it and move on like it was nothing. But you know that there would have never been a perfect time for you to tell me this, right?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“I wish you’d have just told me when you found out, you prick. You’re my best friend. I wanna know these sorts of things, even when they fucking suck.” She put an arm around his waist, pressing herself to his side for a moment with a light squeeze before letting go. He felt his cheeks warm slightly, hoping and praying Feyre wouldn’t notice.

“Sure, but who ever wants to talk about the things that suck? I’d much rather spend my time giving you shit.” Rhys chuckled lightly, the atmosphere distinctly lighter and that horrid weight seeming to lift a little bit as they continued up the street.

“Wooow. Firstly, rude. Secondly, I think we have to focus on your shit now if anything. If you think I’m letting you pack and not helping out, you’re delusional. Good excuse to spend more time before you move, anyway.”

“Just because I’m moving doesn’t mean that we can’t still spend time together, you know,” Rhys insisted as they passed his driveway - he always made sure to walk her to her house, despite the fact that it was only two doors down, and today wasn’t any different. Any excuse he could get to spend time around Feyre he would always take without hesitation. “We can always meet up halfway and have lunch out in town or something. Plus I have my license, so I can come pick you up to whisk you away on adventures.”

Feyre’s laughter was almost like music to his ears, eyes closed and smile wide. She was so stunning and so unaware of it.

“Now I can finally have the cliche teenage experience of sneaking out at night to see a boy, how thrilling.”

The places Rhysand’s mind went to when she said that made chills run down his spine, shifting on his feet as he tried to shake the mental images Feyre had unwittingly conjured. He was so normal about this right now.

“Hey, you just text me and I’ll be there. No sneaking required. Besides, I’m not just a boy, I've been your best friend since we were little kids. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.”

“He barely notices when I’m gone for school or for my job, I think he’s too checked out to mind much of anything.” 

As much as Rhys hated that fact, he tried his best to take it in stride just like Feyre did. She turned to start heading up to her front door, Rhys grabbing her hand for a moment to give a small but reassuring squeeze before she went inside. To tell her that he was sorry but that he appreciated her all the same after all they’d talked about today. But instead of letting go, she gripped tighter for a second, and Rhys felt the world slow down a little bit as he watched Feyre get on her tiptoes. Her expression turned to a smirk before her warm lips met his cheek and he knew his face had turned red at that very moment. Feyre simply grinned wider as if she hadn’t just thrown his world off its axis, walking up to her door with a wave back at him.

“See you tomorrow, Rhys.” She said nonchalantly, heading inside and closing the door behind her.

Rhysand simply stood dumbfounded at the end of the driveway, staring at that white wooden door with his hand pressed to where her lips had met his skin. It felt like live electricity was still dancing along his cheek, jumping between his fingers, spreading down through his veins. He had half a mind to march up to her door, let himself in and crush his body to hers as he kissed her with everything he had.

But instead, Rhys turned and walked two doors down, mouth still agape in surprise. There was no denying to himself anymore that he was so deeply, desperately in love with Feyre Archeron. There wouldn’t be anyone else for him. His friends all already knew it, too. But she was his best friend, and he was moving soon.

So he kept that truth to himself, a secret that he wore on his sleeve like a uniform from that day forward, and unlocked the door to his house before heading inside.

[rumrumgoose]

I am fully aware that no one will probably read this but I really just needed to get this out so tumblr it is:

I will title this

My journey through fan fiction that spans 18 years and a sexuality crisis

I was a weird kid, I had gone to catholic school at the beginning of my elementary years and then moved to public school when my mom got a job as an elementary teacher. I didn’t know how to dress because I had worn a uniform before then and I didn’t know how to act in a not strict environment.

I found solace in books, we had a program at my school where you would read a book and then take a test on it and earn points for passing the test. The bigger the book, the more points you got. Naturally as this was 2004 Harry Potter was very popular, and they were the books that got you the most points as they were larger. I read the first one and was hooked, this world was amazing, I was at my bookstore the night the half blood prince and deathly hollows came out. I devoured the books, and then I devoured them again, and again.

Eventually in the summer between 5th and 6th grade (so 2006) I discovered fan fiction. I was HOOKED, now not only did I get to have basically unlimited access to my favorite characters, I got to read about them in different ways than JK put them. Fan fiction was…unhinged back then to say the least. I was more into the golden trio and I wasn’t really into romance stories as I was 12 but I can distinctly remember wolfstar (that’s not what they were called back then it was like SS something or other) being in the background of A LOT of stories I read and liking it but also not caring cause I just wanted the adventure as a 12 year old does.

I fell into this rabbit hole and would be reading fan fiction at an alarming rate for a person my age, but I was weird and being bullied and was DEFINITELY struggling with my sexuality so it was my way to escape. I stayed firmly in fan fics until I went to high school, at the end I was definitely reading “slash” fics and they were definitely not straight but I was riding the denial train hard.

When I went to high school it was 2009 and “hipster” was cool, my weirdness combined with becoming “hot” granted me way less bullying. I started to get friends so I dropped the “weird” Harry Potter obsession and let myself slowly combust with a sexuality crisis that spanned a good 12 years. I would dabble in fan fiction many times from the ages of 15-26 but I really got into a couple weeks after my 27th birthday.

I was, well, I was actively dying. I was so mentally ill I wasn’t really functioning. I was in a horrible marriage (to a man, if you haven’t caught my subtle hints I’m a lesbian) I had nothing of my own, no autonomy and I just didn’t want to be here anymore.

I fell into reading all the young dudes (I know, I know) because of a TikTok I had seen with someone saying they loved reading Marauders fics because it’s easy to take a step back from JK when reading them. To say I was hooked is an understatement.

When I started reading it I didn’t know about tags or even how to work AO3 so I didn’t realize it was a wolfstar fic, when they kissed on the mouth I was like 😱. Sometimes I wish I could relive that moment again because I was an idiot. I was hooked though and thus began an insane journey into discovering that queer love can actually be amazing, that I can leave my husband and survive, and taking your mental health meds is a super good idea.

I have been through a journey and am about to turn 29 on Saturday, so almost 2 years later I need to just thank everyone in the community for your words that saved me. I am now obsessed with wolfstar, I don’t know what I would do with out you guys. I’m trying to be more active in the fandom but I thought I would get my story into the world even if no one sees it! 💕

[maxe-murderer]

Saw your tags on the post about kids not being computer literate and you saying that kids just don't know how to do something new and I'm a high school music teacher and that is so unbelievably true.

I'll have 30+ kids in a room and each will wait until I'm standing next to them to do anything. They get bored easily and don't know how to just play around, they need their hand held constantly. It makes it so so difficult to teach when I'm constantly running around and each kid wants me to only pay attention to them!

I've tried to show them how to compose and give them instructions and they're still so lost all the time. They all just seem kind of dead inside, not really caring what happens around them.

I don't mean to insult these kids, more just say that I totally understand what you're saying. Everyone is seeing it now. Most kids were never taught to care it seems, they just passively move through their own lives. And then they tell me that they're bored and I'm pointing to all the options they have of things to explore and learn and they just never want to try any of it. It's so so frustrating.

its absolutely insane how much kids seemingly just cant care. ill stand by the statement that last years high school seniors were the last class where the vast majority made it out of covid online school mostly ok. high school seniors rn missed freshman year and the rest missed a year of middle school which we're seeing very obviously affecting everything abt them rn. a lot of kids straight up don't know what a passing period is, social skills have been super stunted cause they were spending middle school isolated and on tiktok, and yeah, no one knows how to care.

cause theyve not rlly been given a reason to, you know? they were thrown into what easily felt like to end of the world when they were too young to do anything abt it and too young to properly understand it. all while they don't get the routine of going to school, they cant do the extracurriculars they like, they're not allowed to hang out with their friends. Some of the most important years for a lot of development were spent being told nothing but all the horrible things going on in the world. "if everything is this awful and there's nothing (I'm able) to do about it why does any of this matter" sorta thing.

and they dont have the skills needed to deal with that. then they also don't have a lot of the skills needed to be a functional student so they're struggling there too - not necessarily with their grades, but I think you know what I mean. freshman year is when you learn to be a high schooler in both the academic/going between classes sense and in the social sense and middle school is when you learn to be like, a person. without that you get a bunch of high schoolers acting like middle or even elementary schoolers with a high schooler's knowledge of everything that's awful and they still don't have the ability to do anything abt it.

they dont see a reason to care and they don't know how to just try things cause they didn't have the space to just try things for a while. online they were given their assignments and that was it. extracurriculars that continued online didn't help either - like, online theater was so focused on "can we get this done" that there wasn't a whole lot of space for the actors to try and properly act beyond say the words and putting a little bit of something into it - and a lot of those extracurriculars that did continue online couldn't always include all of the kids who would be a part of them normally - again, theater, you couldn't have any kids doing tech beyond maybe an AD and/or SM. like shit dude, if I was in their position id feel fucked!

and its definitely easier to notice with younger kids. they have a worse version of the stunted social skills. the only way I can describe it is that these kids are spoiled. not necessarily spoiled in the traditional sense but for a while their world consisted of online school, most likely being put in front of an iPad cause their parents had to work or take care of the house or were just too tired themselves (and some were just bad parents, and oh boy can you tell when a kid is an iPad iPad kid), and then being the only or one of the only things for their parents to pay attention to. If they have siblings its still only a few ppl to split attention between and if the sibling(s) is older then they could have still gotten the majority of the attention, and if they're an only child then they were seemingly the center of the world for a while to them.

so a lot of them dont know how to share attention and they don't know how to not be told exactly what to do. they don't know how to have fun if they're not told how to (unless its like, roblox, not even Minecraft a lot of them don't know how to play Minecraft!) working summer camp, I had so much trouble getting kids to be engaged in stuff that they liked. the kids who signed up for theater classes cause they like theater barely wanted to do theater. the only classes I didn't struggle to get them engaged with was the art classes that everyone wanted to sign up for, photography (it was mostly older kids and more importantly I think, using ipads), and oddly enough the asl class (I think because that one was so specific compared to the other classes that it rlly was only kids who were interested, and I think kids find sign language cool in general. like "wow I can talk with my hands!" or "oh cool we heard abt this in that one book we read!" sorta thing).

im sure you know this, and idk how coherent this ramble is. ive just been thinking abt this for a while cause of just how insane it is to me. cause from what I've seen these kids arent rlly learning all those skills they missed out on. they're just gone.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

Genshin Men in Highschool

Tags: Highschool!Genshin AU, Headcanons

Warnings: Vaping, Weed

Characters: Xiao, Kazuha, Kaeya, Ayato, Thoma

Genshin men and what kind of students they would be in a high school alternate universe.

* ˚ ✦ Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [26/04/22] ❞

Xiao

Xiao would be that one loner kid that keeps to himself, and everyone knows to just not talk to him.

However, Xiao would be that loner kid everyone lowkey has a crush on. But, no one can get close enough to him.

His favorite subjects would be Music and Art. I can see him as a very creative person. Plays an instrument, draws sometimes as a hobby.

Some days its like Xiao has completely disappeared from school if you bother to notice. He does show up, but he’s either at home or somewhere secluded during break times, like the library or the rooftop.

If you did manage to befriend/date him, he’d still be kind of quiet, but definitely super loyal to you. The type of guy to hate everyone but you LMAO. Also hates affection

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Kazuha

Kazuha is that kid who sells stuff on the side. By stuff I mean vapes and weed LMFAOO

You’re just walking home and casually see him doing business with someone behind the school. Also gets his friends to advertise his business on their Snapchat 💀

An overall chill and laidback guy that everyone likes. I feel like he’d be a bit of a social floater, but since everyone thinks he’s cool he hangs with everyone.

Kazuha’s favorite subjects are English and Languages. Particularly Spanish. This man recites poetry all the time, how would he not like English?

ALSO IMAGINE HIM SAYING CUTE THINGS TO YOU IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE?

That said, all the English teachers love him. 11/10 amazing writer. Sometimes the things he writes doesn’t make sense, in which he tells the teachers it’s coming from a deep, artistic point of view. Cue the praise.

That “deep, artistic point of view” was also when he was high, by the way. 11/10 great lying skills.

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Kaeya

ABSOLUTE MENACE TO EVERYONE.

Kaeya is smug and flirty. That one mf who walks into class and closes your laptop lid, or hits the off button to flirt with you.

Also the guy that says “where my hug at?” 💀

Popular in school and girls love him. Loves to tease and annoy people, but no one actually finds him annoying. Except for Diluc 💀

Kaeya’s favorite subjects are Physics and Geography.

Just kidding he’s a liar. He only likes Physics because someone he likes is in that class. Geography is cool to him though.

The relationship trope with him would be academically smart student x athletic dumbass. Nerd x jock type of shit, except I can’t envision him playing sports.

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Ayato

Is smug like Kaeya and I don’t know if that’s a better or worse thing.

The type of guy to be on some student council group. Academically smart, the faculty favorite, and a role model.

Ayato gets amazing grades and everyone asks him for help. He’s that intelligent and rich student.

He has beef with Kazuha btw. One day he caught him selling vapes behind the school and they got into a tussle over it LMAOO

I don’t think he’s a snitch though. Well, until the selling issue gets out of hand, but you know what I mean

Ayato’s favorite subjects are Chemistry and Physics. 100% a science guy.

Would also accidentally blow something up and never live it down.

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Thoma

The really kind dude that is way too nice to everyone for his own good.

You need a pencil? He’s got twenty. Answers to the homework? He’s immediately by your side to give pointers.

An actual mediator bro he can’t stand drama 😭 everyone trusts him so much that they come to him with all their problems/shittalking. This man knows so many secrets. Will obviously keep them tho

I don’t think anyone could ever be genuinely mean to him though. Those who have tried never see the light of day again

Thoma is on everyone’s good side, so when someone is being an ass to him, their reputation is immediately dragged through the dirt. It’s worse when he’s close with a powerful student like Ayato as well 😭🙏

From a scale between Xiao to Kaeya, Thoma would be like Kazuha. He’s cool with everyone and popular with girls, but it’s definitely more lowkey than Kaeya.

Thoma’s favorite subjects are Food Tech and Biology. Embarrassed the Food Tech teacher one time because he showed them up with his cooking (on accident)

After that incident, you can imagine how class would go when there were group/partner projects. Would work on his own sometimes when the fights would get too big

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Only Friend

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader [Robin!Jason Todd]

Summary: Gotham mourned for Robin. But who mourned for Jason Todd? Y/F/N Y/L/N wasn’t just another one of Jason Todd’s friends. She was his only friend.  

Word Count: 7,000 [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, Death, Loss, Grief

Y/N didn’t know what time it was. She hadn’t opened the blinds in her room for days. And she didn’t plan on doing so anytime soon. In fact, she didn’t plan on getting out of bed anytime soon.

She heard a knock on her bedroom door. From the sound alone, she knew it was her mother.

“Y/N, dear. Can I come in?”

She wanted to say, ‘No.’ She wanted to say, ‘Go away.’ But Y/N didn’t even have the energy to do that. So she just laid still with the covers over her shoulders and said nothing. 

Her mom slowly opened the door.

Y/N’s family had been tiptoeing around her since it happened. They didn’t know how to handle the situation. Most parents don’t expect for their daughter’s best friend to die. No child should have to face grief like this.

But Y/N had no choice.

Because Jason Todd was dead.

“Hi, honey,” Y/N’s mother cooed as she walked into the room. Then she placed a plate of food on her nightstand. “I brought you something to eat.”

Y/N didn’t even so much as look at her mother, just continued to stare off into nothing.

“Is it alright if I open of your blinds and windows. I think you could use some fresh air.”

Y/N gave what appeared to be a half shrug, barely visible underneath the thick covers.

But her mother seemed relieved, it was starting to smell musty in the room.

Her mother sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Y/N’s face. “The funeral’s tomorrow.”

Y/N’s eyes finally looked up at her mother – desperate and scared. “Do I have to go?”

“I think you’d regret it if you didn’t, honey. You deserve your chance to say goodbye. Your father and I will be there with you.”

Then Y/N closed her eyes and burst into tears. “I had a dream about him last night. And I woke up and remembered–” she had to pause to catch her breath. “I-I-I remembered he’s g-gone.”

“Oh, honey,” her mom whispered as she pulled Y/N into her arms. “I know you miss him. I know. He was your best friend.”

Y/N pulled away and looked up at her mom. “He was my only friend,” she corrected.

———

Jason Todd was sitting at a lunch table by himself and reading when someone slammed their tray down across from him. His eyes flickered up in a glare, already expecting someone to try and pick a fight with him or something.

But instead he found a girl standing above him, smirking down at him.

No, not just any girl, the prettiest girl in their grade. No one else at this stupid school seemed to think so. But that just further proved Jason’s theory that everyone here were idiots.

“Hi,” she said confidently.

“H-Hi?” Jason stuttered back.

“I’m sitting with you,” she announced as she sat down. “I’m Y/N.”

Jason finally smirked and remained confused. “I know who you are…”

“You’ve never talked to me, so how was I supposed to know?” Y/N said back. “And you’re Jason Todd.”

“Yes?” He responded.

Y/N laughed at his confusion.

Jason Todd wasn’t popular. There was a disconnect between him and his peers. The kids at Gotham Academy were trust-fund babies and spoiled brats. They were such snobs that there were even cliques separating the kids who came from old money from those who came from new money. It all seemed ridiculous after literally starving in the slums of the city. 

Jason Todd wasn’t a rebel. He didn’t lash out or let his inability to connect to the other students make him feel down. Ask any teacher who had him and they would say he was a straight-A student and he never once caused trouble in their class. He was always polite and respectful, responsible and well-behaved.

Jason Todd wasn’t bullied. Maybe it was a vibe he gave off, but somehow the other kids knew not to mess with him. Jason came to school with a black eye once, and he always wondered if it freaked them all out enough to never try to mess with him – not that they would ever stand a chance against him.

In regards to the middle school hierarchy, Jason was nobody.

Because Jason Todd wasn’t really a kid. He just had the misfortune of also not being an adult yet.

He was just a poor punk from the Narrows, who just happened to try and steal the tires off the car of Gotham’s notorious vigilante. He didn’t belong at this snobby prep school.

But going to school was one of Bruce’s demands after making Jason his new Robin.

Jason just didn’t know how to make a convincing argument for why he didn’t need social interactions with kids his own age.

“Is this some kind of dare?” Jason asked Y/N.

She froze her eating and scoffed at him. “You’ve watched too many bad teen movies. What kind of asshole would I be to do something like that?”

But Jason still looked around the cafeteria, expecting to find a table full of people watching this interaction and trying to hide their giggles.

Y/N finally slammed down her food, sat back, and crossed her arms. “People at this school suck.”

“Uhh…OK?”

“I saw you reading Pride & Prejudice the other week. And you were wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt yesterday. You helped pick up Jill’s stuff when her backpack ripped open, while everyone else just laughed.” She paused. But Jason waited. “What I’m saying is that I’ve decided that you don’t suck.”

“Oh,” Jason blurted out.

“Do you honestly think anyone at this school even knows who Jane Austen is? And some dude in my English class tried to tell me Nickelback was his favorite band.”

Jason laughed at that. “How did you even respond to that?”

“I asked him if he was fucking with me and then the teacher yelled at me for swearing. And I told her, ‘How am I supposed to react to a Nickelback fan without using profanities?’”

Jason laughed again.

That was how Jason and Y/N became best friends. That was all it took.

Jason would soon find out that Y/N didn’t belong here just as much as him. She didn’t come from money – just your normal, middle-class suburban family. She’d won a full-ride scholarship to Gotham Academy, which was impressive since they only handed out one per grade.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne made one 30-second call and Jason was accepted – no questions asked.

Y/N was rather mature for her age, but it wasn’t the product of being Batman’s sidekick and fighting the criminals of Gotham City.

—

Any second Jason had to be a normal kid was spent hanging out with Y/N. Jason was at Y/N’s house all the time, loving Y/N’s parents and envious of the stable home Y/N got to grow up in.

It took awhile for Jason to feel comfortable inviting Y/N to the manor, despite Alfred saying he was welcome to have friends over whenever he wished. Jason eventually got over his embarrassment. While Y/N seemed in awe of Wayne Manor, the evidence of Jason’s wealth didn’t make her treat him any different. They mostly hung out in Jason’s room anyways. Or in the kitchen when Alfred made them snacks.

While they were at school, they always ate lunch together and walked to classes shoulder-to-shoulder any chance they got. They only needed each other.

They ignored everyone else. And in return, everyone else left them alone.

For the most part.

—

Jason should’ve known something was wrong when he heard the commotion on his way to third period.

When he heard kids start chanting “Fight!” his gut somehow knew Y/N was involved.

Jason shoved his way through the thick circle that was surrounding the drama.

He reached the opening just in time to see Y/N tackle a boy named Parker to the ground. The crowd gasped, not actually expecting them to actually go through with violence. Then Y/N lifted her fist and landed a punch to Parker’s face.

But Jason quickly stepped forward and pulled Y/N off.

“He’s not worth it, Y/N.”

Recognizing the voice of her best friend, Y/N allowed him to pull her away.

“Gonna let your boyfriend pull you away?” Parker yelled out.

Y/N whipped back toward him, but Jason wrapped his arms around her and held her back. “Y/N, leave it!”

“I’m not the one with the a black eye and bloodied nose, asshole!” Y/N screamed, only half fighting Jason’s hold. “Next time, I’ll kick you so hard in your tiny dick that you won’t be able to have kids.”

Jason managed to drag her through the halls with a vice-like grip on her hand.

Y/N scoffed at his efforts, “Where are you even taking me?”

“We’re ditching class.”

She shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

Jason knew exactly what exit didn’t have an alarmed rigged to it or any video surveillance. He also grabbed a cellphone in his back pocket and started to type frantically.

“You have a cellphone! What? Since when? My parents said I can’t get one until high school,” Y/N groaned enviously.

Little did she know, Jason had set up an AI system that would call the school with Bruce’s voice and leave a recording about how Jason needed to be dismissed from school. It was perfect for Bat emergencies. 

He had added Y/N’s parents voices to the algorithm a few months ago, having a hunch it would come in handy.

As soon as they were a safe distance away from the school, Y/N let go of Jason’s hand and walked slightly ahead of him.

With their freedom secured, Jason could focus on Y/N now.

“What did he do?” He asked her gently.

Y/N was smart and calculated. If she’d picked a fight with someone, Jason knew it had to have been caused by something serious.

“Doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.

Jason rushed forward and stopped her walking. “Hey, come on. It’s me you’re talking to…”

Y/N nodded, knowing he was right. They told each other everything, or so she thought.

Her eyes went to the ground, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “We were in health class. Today was the unfortunate lesson for learning male and female anatomy. Mrs. Martin started talking about…” Y/N hesitated. “She started talking about boobs. Said something about when girls start seeing a change.”

“And?” Jason urged softly.

“Parker chimed in and said, ‘Or if you’re Y/L/N… never.’”

Embarrassed by her confession, Y/N started walking again – quicker, this time.

Jason jogged to catch up to her. “Fuck him. Only a loser asshole would say something like that.”

“Well…he’s probably right.”

Jason shrugged. “Who cares?”

This time Y/N stopped walking. “You don’t get it,” she snapped. “Every girl in our grade is growing up. And I still have the chest of a boy. My mom won’t even let me buy a bra because she says I don’t need it yet.”

Jason was speechless. 

To be honest, he had never really noticed. Y/N wore baggy band t-shirts or flannels all the time. He wasn’t exactly studying her silhouette when they hung out. But he never imagined that Y/N would be bothered by something like that.

“Sometimes I’d just like to…I don’t fucking know…feel like a girl.” She paused. “A pretty girl,” she emphasized.

Jason stared into her eyes. “You are a pretty girl.”

Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes. “J, you don’t have to say that.”

“I’m serious. You’re the prettiest girl in our grade, Y/N.”

That caught her off guard. He’d never said anything like that to her before. 

Sure, Jason said nice things to her. But it was usually him complimenting her taste in music or thanking her for showing him a new book he loved. But he’d never called her pretty before.

Jason, worried that he’d exposed himself, pulled her to him so he could give her a noogie. And the moment was broken.

“Jason! I think I’ve proved today that I will hit a bitch!”

He just laughed and playfully shoved her away. “Come on. I’ll buy you one of those embarrassing frappuccinos from Starbucks.”

“Excuse you! They’re not embarrassing. They’re delicious.”

Jason could tell Y/N didn’t want to talk about the fight anymore. So he thought distracting her was the next best thing. 

And, by some miracle, they returned to school the next day without any punishment.

But Jason wasn’t done yet.

Parker didn’t realize he was messing with Robin’s best friend.

Jason was patient. He waited for the precise moment when Parker would be alone.

A week after the fight, Parker turned the corner of an empty hallway and jumped when he nearly ran into Jason.

“What do you want, Todd?”

Jason took a step toward him and lowered his voice, “If you ever say anything like that to Y/N again – or to any girl, for that matter – I won’t hesitate to beat the shit out of you.”

Parker side eyed him. “Yeah, right.”

Without hesitating, Jason reached forward, grabbed Parkers palm, and snapped the index finger of his dominant hand.

Parker let out a screech of pain and fell to his knees.

Jason kneeled down to whisper in his ear, “No witnesses. No cameras. And I’m actually in gym class right now, running the mile. No one will believe you.”

Parker looked up at Jason like he was a madman.

Jason smiled and patted him on the head. “Remember what I said.”

After that, Parker never even so much as looked in Y/N’s direction.

—

Jason and Y/N looked out for each other, protected each other

And Jason may have kept his other life of Robin from her, but Y/N seemed to already sense that there was something Jason was hiding. It wasn’t just something, it was dark.

When Y/N started noticing bruises and cuts on Jason’s body, she grew concerned. But she wanted to observe and think of all the possibilities before she ever brought it up.

Then one day at her house, she made a joke and slapped Jason playfully on the back.

He hissed uncontrollably and his entire body froze.

“Jason?” Y/N asked with concern.

“I’m fine. You just surprised me and knocked the wind out of me,” Jason said hurriedly.

But Y/N wasn’t stupid. She quickly grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and ripped it up so she could see his back.

“JASON! What the fuck!” She gasped in horror as she saw the bruises scattered across his skin. She had never seen anything like it. 

“Shh!” Jason tried to calm her to stop her parents from coming in and then having her immediately showing them too.

“What happened?” Y/N whispered, her eyes glazed over with tears.

“Nothing. I’m fine, Y/N. I promise.”

“You’re not fine. And this isn’t the first time,” Y/N countered. “You think you do a good job of hiding them, but I see the other bruises and cuts, Jason. And don’t think I don’t notice how often you skip school because your ‘sick.’”

Jason stayed quiet. He didn’t want to lie to her. But he couldn’t tell her. It could put her in danger. And if Bruce ever found out, he’d put a stop to the whole thing. Jason would never be Robin ever again.

“He does it,” Y/N whispered.

Jason blinked. “Who?”

“Bruce,” she clarified. “He beats you, doesn’t he?”

Jason’s eyes widened in horror. He knew Y/N was weary of his adoptive father. She noticed how absent he was from Jason’s life, then took note of how cold he was when he was present. But her theory made perfect sense. And if the roles were reversed, Jason probably would’ve come to the same conclusion.

“Y/N, Bruce has never hurt me.”

She frowned. “You don’t have to protect him. And you don’t have to take his shit. I knew something was off about him ever since I met him. But I didn’t think it was this.”

“Y/N…” Jason began.

“Does Alfred know?” She couldn’t imagined him every letting something like this happen if he did. Y/N had grown to love Alfred almost as much as Jason.

“There’s nothing for him to know, Y/N.” Jason laughed. “I was trying to walk across the railing above the great hall and fell and landed on my back. I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed, OK?”

He knew from Y/N’s face that she wasn’t convinced. But she also knew not to push someone who was in the position she thought Jason was.

But to his horror, tears started falling.

“I just…I want you know that I’d do anything for you. You can live here! My parents love you and they’d take you in! Or-or-or we can run away together – just you and me.”

Jason hated seeing her cry. She rarely ever did it. And to know he was the cause made him feel sick.

Not knowing what else to do, Jason pulled her into a hug.

“I’m OK, Y/N. Promise. You don’t have to worry about me. Please don’t cry.”

“We just have to steal some of the stupid jewelry he has laying around and we’d be set for life,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

Jason laughed and pulled away. “Bruce took me in. Gave me a better life. He’s protected me. I know you don’t believe me, but the bruises aren’t because of him.”

Y/N wiped the tears away sloppily and nodded, but they both knew that Y/N didn’t believe him.

Y/N didn’t look at Bruce the same since that day. Not that she spent a lot of time around him.

But Bruce shared a look with Jason when he received the first very harsh glare from the pre-teen girl. It ended with a very uncomfortable conversation between Bruce and Jason where the boy explained what theory Y/N had come to.

Though Bruce said very little in response, he was wracked with guilt. To learn that someone thought he had the potential to behold the evil he tried so hard to eradicate in the world? It made Bruce sick to his stomach.

———

Now Y/N stood with her head hung low, in a crowd dressed in black.

These people didn’t know Jason Todd. Maybe they played the part of mourning funeral goer well. But Y/N saw their performances still.

The only people Y/N recognized were Bruce Wayne, Alfred, and Jason’s older brother, Dick Grayson. She’d never met him before, only seen pictures of him around the manor. Jason always seemed disappointed when Y/N brought Dick up or tried to ask about him. Y/N got the impression that he wasn’t all that great of a brother to Jason. Especially when it was obvious Jason looked up to him and was desperate for some sort of fraternal relationship.

Y/N looked up at her mother when the priest was finished with whatever he was saying. His words were impersonal, sullied by religion, and did nothing to comfort Y/N. He didn’t even say one thing about what made Jason so great. 

“Can we go now?” She whispered to her mother.

She patted Y/N’s back. “There’s a gathering inside the house now. We should say our condolences to Mr. Wayne and Alfred.”

Y/N frowned at that. The last person she wished to talk to was Bruce Wayne.

She had been watching the man through the entire service. He was stoic and collected. There didn’t seem to be any sadness to be found in his eyes.

The longer Y/N watched him, the angrier she became.

“Please, let’s just go,” Y/N begged her mother.

People were making there way into the manor now and weren’t paying any attention to a girl, despite the fact that she was the best and only friend of the boy they were pretending to mourn.

Her mother gave her a sympathetic look. “Honey, don’t you want to say hi to Alfred. I’m sure it would make him happy to see you.”

Y/N knew her mother was right. She could do that for Alfred. Plus, he gave the best hugs, and Y/N could sure use one of them right now.

They waited in a sort of informal line. Y/N wanted to hit everyone in front of them as she was forced to listen to their empty and rehearsed sympathies. Bruce didn’t say much in return, simply thanking each of them.

But when Y/N and her parents were finally up, Bruce Wayne’s expression shifted.

It was the first time Y/N saw any sort of emotion from the man. He looked heartbroken at the sight of Y/N, who’s hand was tightly gripping her mothers.

Bruce, standing at 6’2, knelt down to be at Y/N’s eye level.

“Hello, Y/N.” He greeted quietly so no one lingering around them could hear.

Y/N only glared at him. 

If she were being honest, she was surprised he even remembered her name. 

But Bruce continued. “Thank you for coming today. I’m sure the past few days haven’t been easy for you.”

Then he cleared his throat. And Y/N’s brow furrowed at the sound. Was he trying to hold back tears? No, that couldn’t be possible.

“I wanted to thank you for being such a good friend to Jason. He talked about you all the time. I’m glad he had someone like you in his life.”

Y/N felt nauseous at how genuine Bruce Wayne’s words sounded. His eyes were even more sincere.

What happened to the cold and distance man she’d had little to no interaction with?

‘He has an audience now,’ Y/N told herself. ‘He knows everyone’s watching. He’s performing just like the rest of them.’

“What did you do to him?” Y/N finally whispered to him.

Where she got the courage to speak to an adult in such a way, she had no idea – especially one as powerful as Bruce Wayne.

Bruce tensed at her question. Was that hurt in his eyes?

“Y/N!” Her mother hissed down at her.

“It was you. I know it was,” Y/N muttered as her lips trembled and tears started falling. She thought she’d run out of tears, but this was her final outburst.

“Y/N, enough!” Her mother hissed again and then made eye contact with Bruce and Alfred. “I’m so sorry. She’s not…she’s not handling any of this well.”

“You did this to him!” Y/N yelled. “He always had bruises…and-and-and cuts! You used to hurt him!”

“Y/N!” Her father finally chimed in, completely stunned by his daughter’s accusations.

“I hate you!” Y/N screamed in Bruce’s face as tears flowed down her face.

With that, she ripped her hand from her mom’s grasp and made a run for it. She heard her parents yell her name, but she ignored it and kept running.

Bruce stood up, looking unfazed from Y/N’s hateful and accusatory outburst.

“We are so, so sorry,” Y/N’s mom insisted. “She’s never done anything like that before.”

Bruce held up a hand, stopping them from continuing. “It’s alright. Really.” Then he sighed. “I’ll have Alfred go find her in a bit. Perhaps she just needs to let out some steam.”

Y/N didn’t even realize where she was running until she ended up at Jason’s bedroom.

Her entire body shook with sobs as she opened up the door.

It looked exactly the same, like nothing had even happened.

Y/N walked to the other side and slide against the giant windows, curling into a ball on the floor with her arms hugging her knees to her chest.

She cried and she cried and she cried.

There was no way for her to know how long she’d been there. But her head snapped up when there was a knock on the doorframe.

Dick Grayson leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed and a sad smile on his lips.

“Hi,” he greeted softly.

Y/N sniffed and rubbed the snot from her nose with the back of her fist, “Hi.”

“I’m Dick,” he introduced as he closed the door behind him and sat on the foot of Jason’s bed, making sure to give Y/N her space.

“I know,” Y/N answered back through a stuffy nose.

“Alfred tells me you and Jason were good friends.”

“We were each other’s only friend,” Y/N corrected him.

Dick nodded slowly.

“I hate him,” Y/N mumbled.

Dick winced. “Jason?”

“Bruce.”

“Believe it or not, I know how that feels,” he sighed.

“Did he hit you, too?” Y/N asked with wide eyes.

Dick opened his mouth, but was so shocked by the question that no words escaped.

“Why didn’t you help him?” She followed up with. “Where were you?”

Dick knew she wasn’t asking what he felt like she was: Why didn’t you stop the Joker? Why was Robin all alone? Why didn’t Batman call you for help?

But that didn’t stop her interrogation from hurting him.

“I haven’t always been there for him,” Dick finally admitted. “Actually…I’ve never really been there for him.”

Y/N looked at him with bewilderment. “Umm…” she sniffed. “I should find my parents.”

When she stood up, something caught her attention on Jason’s desk.

Y/N’s hand shook as she picked up Pride & Prejudice. He was the only middle school boy she’s ever seen reading a Jane Austen book. It was one of the reasons she wanted to befriend him in the first place.

“Keep it,” Dick surprised her by saying.

She quickly turned around and gave him a questioning look.

“You should keep it,” he told her. Then he looked at the overflowing book case she was standing near. “Take whatever ones want. He’d want you to have them.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered through the bookcase. Her heart was telling her, ‘No, they’re his books. He’ll need them when he gets back.’ But Jason Todd wasn’t coming back.

So she reached up and grabbed Jane Eyre and then Frankenstein.

“That’s it?” Dick asked. Because he would’ve let her take Jason’s entire collection.

Y/N nodded shyly.

Dick escorted her through the house and back to the gathering.

When she saw Alfred, Y/N rushed forward.

Dick’s heart ached as he saw the butler immediately kneel down and pull Y/N into a hug. He wondered what the man whispered to her. Whatever it was, it seemed to comfort her in a way that apparently nothing else was.

Then Y/N’s parents returned to her side. Dick expected them to scold her for her earlier outburst, but they just seemed concerned and started making their leave.

Y/N looked behind her and searched through the crowd to find Dick again. When she did, she gave him a sad wave.

Dick returned it with a sorrowful smile.

———

8 Years Later...

Jason had been keeping tabs on her since he returned to Gotham. He kept his distance, remained out of sight. He would jump from rooftop to rooftop as she walked home from a night class. Or he would wait for the window of her apartment bedroom to go off if it was a slow night of patrolling.

He told himself it was out of curiosity. But he knew deep down he was making sure she stayed safe.

Jason was happy to see that Y/N didn’t retain her lonesome ways in her life after his death. He frequently spotted her having dinner or drinks with friends.

But Jason didn’t know how to feel when it was clear that Y/N had no romantic partner. Was he relieved? Was he irritated that someone didn’t love and care for her the way she deserved? Would he have been jealous if there was someone in his life?

Jason wanted to find her as soon as he was brought from the dead. Even when he felt like he’d gone insane, when his thoughts didn’t make sense and he was confused…her face still echoed through his mind.

But vengeance became his priority.

And with it, Jason slowly convinced himself that it was best to stay far away from the only person he still cared about.

But that didn’t mean her didn’t want answers still.

After his war with Bruce – or really, his attempted murder Batman and the Joker – Jason allowed himself to actually look back on his old life, the parts that didn’t involve being a child vigilante.

Still not on speaking terms with Bruce. Jason decided to get his info from another source.

Cue a month or so after his brush with Bruce, Jason blindsided Dick the next time he was in Gotham and slammed him against the closest brick wall.

Jason used to look up to Dick as a kid, despite his older brother rarely even giving him the time of day.

But now, Dick was quite literally looking up at Jason. 

While Jason died a 13-year-old Robin, he was now a 6’3 man who had the set of a heavyweight boxer. Dick might be more flexible and acrobatic, but Jason had brute strength.

“What? B tell all of you not to talk to me?” Jason challenged when Dick didn’t fight his hold or speak to him.

“What do you want?” Dick asked evenly.

“Why did you keep tabs on her?” Jason growled, his voice distorted through his helmet.

“Keep tabs on who?”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

Dick finally had enough of being bullied and shoved Jason’s grip off him. “Why don’t you look her up yourself? I’m sure you have no issue with hacking every personal database of hers.”

“That’s not why I’m asking,” Jason growled.

In fact, Jason had already done everything Dick had suggested. Which made him see that she had made a third-party domestic violence report to the police a week or so after Jason had died. And she had kept following up with it until the police finally came clean and told her there was no evidence to support her claim and she was wasting her time.  

It seemed Y/N was the only person that fought for Jason after he was gone. She had just picked the wrong fight.

“Why did you keep tabs on her?” Jason clarified.

“I just wanted to make sure she was OK.”

That caught him off guard a bit, seeing as Dick never gave a shit about Jason when he was alive. So why would he look after his best friend?

“What? Out of the goodness of your heart?” Jason ridiculed.

“She didn’t handle your death well, Jason. She even picked a fight with Bruce at your funeral.”

Jason smirked behind the safety of his helmet at the image.

Dick sighed and finally put down his defenses. “I failed you, Jason. All of us failed you.” He shook his head as he got lost in a memory. “Y/N even asked me why I hadn’t tried harder to protect you.”

Dick’s eyes saddened. “I figured if I couldn’t be there for you, the least I could do was make sure the most important person in your life was OK.”

It wasn’t the answer Jason was suspecting, but it was all he came for.

“Will you go see her?” Dick asked as he saw that Jason was about to take his leave.

“We were kids. Things have changed,” Jason grunted.

“I don’t think any of that would matter to her,” Dick defended. “I think she’d like to see you and know you’re OK.”

“Mind your business,” was the last thing Jason snapped at him before jumping off the rooftop and disappearing.

————

Jason did what he said: he left Y/N alone. 

He watched over her when he could. But most importantly, he didn’t drop a ghost from the past back into her life.

But he also tried to find that ghost in himself.

Somedays he thought that Jason Todd was lost forever.

But other days, like today, he still seemed to live on.

Jason browsed through the books on the shelves. He missed so many of them when he was dead and then when he reinvented himself.

Now he saw books as a time to fill in the empty space.

He was lost reading the back of covers when he heard it. No, when he heard her.

Next thing Jason knew, he was walking toward it.

“I’m sorry, dear. We’re all sold out of that title. You should’ve reserved it weeks ago,” one of the clerks told her with sympathy.

Jason peered between the shelves and caught a glimpse of y/h/c.

“I know. I just totally spaced. I think I’ll just browse for something else. Thank you for your help.”

Her voice sounded mostly the same, maybe a bit more mature. But he still would recognize it anywhere.

Jason knew he shouldn’t move any closer.

But he couldn’t help himself.

He was just one aisle away from her now, only a bookshelf separating them.

He slowly edged around the corner and smiled as he saw the massive pile of books that Y/N was trying to juggle in her arms. When she tried adding one more, they broke free from her grasp and stumbled loudly to the ground.

Jason didn’t know what he was thinking as he jumped forward and bent down to help her pick them up.

He saw her blush, but keep her head dipped from the embarrassment.

“Thank you,” she quickly laughed as she tried to pile the books back together as fast as possible.

Y/N opened her mouth to say more, but the words got caught in her mouth when she finally met Jason’s eyes.

He wondered how different he looked to her. Could she even recognize him? Or was he fooling himself when he became convinced he was an entirely different person after being brought back from the dead?

But his questions were answered when Y/N looked in shock, only unfreezing when her eyes began to tear up.

“It’s not possible,” she said so quietly that it was barely a whisper.

“Everyone good? I heard a loud noise.” The clear interrupted loudly.

Y/N jumped in response.

Jason stood and faced the clerk, “We’re fine.”

But when he turned back around, Y/N had booked it.

“Fuck,” Jason hissed before carefully handing the books to the clerk and quickly following after Y/N.

She made it further than he would expect. He actually had to look around the streets outside the store for a moment before he could spot her.

As soon as he did, he ran. But he called her name before he reached her to make sure he didn’t terrify her more.

Y/N froze when she heard him and whipped around. “Who are you?” She asked roughly.

There was a moment, when she first met Jason’s blue eyes, where she allowed herself to believe that perhaps a miracle had occurred.

But now she only saw this as some sort of heinous prank.

“It’s me, Y/N.” Jason almost sounded like he was begging her. 

She then fully took him in. Yes, he had the same face. But now he was a full-grown man – and an extremely handsome one at that.

“I shouldn’t have spooked you like that. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been dead for 8 years,” she muttered.

“I know. It’s a…” Jesus. Jason didn’t even know how to go about this. “It’s a long and complicated story.”

“Were you ever really dead?” Then Y/N’s eyes flashed with a realization. “Did you stage your death? To get away from him?”

Bruce. She meant to get away from Bruce.

Jason looked around. This was no place to have this conversation. He couldn’t believe they were having it at all.

“Fuck. OK.” He quickly shuffled through his pockets until he found an old paper receipt and a pen. He quickly wrote something down.

“I know this is…a lot.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that reminded Y/N of the Jason she used to know. “If you want nothing to do with me, I understand. You’ll never have to see me again.”

He took in a deep breath and handed her the receipt.

Y/N slowly took it and looked down to see a phone number written down.

“You deserve time and space to…” he couldn’t find the right word, “process all of this.”

Y/N watched him as if she was expecting him to vanish like some sort of hallucination.

“After you do,” Jason continued. “If you’re willing to hear me out, I’ll be there,” he told her sincerely as he gestured to the number Y/N now held in her hand.

He waited for Y/N to say something, or maybe even try to make a run for her life.

But after what felt like forever, Y/N gave a short nod.

Jason gave her a shy grin as he slowly started walking backwards. He hesitated saying one last thing for her. But his mind finally told him, ‘Fuck it.’

“I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

————

Jason told himself not to get his hopes up. Y/N had every right to be horrified by him and wish to never see him again. From what Dick described, Y/N hadn’t handled Jason’s death well at all. What child could?

But when Jason got a text from Y/N’s number a week later, asking him to come to her place, he couldn’t help but beam.

Except reality then quickly settled in. And it reminded Jason that this conversation would involve talking about his past for the first time.

‘Suck it up. She deserves to know,’ he heard his past self screaming in his mind.

An hour later, Jason was knocking on Y/N’s apartment door.

“Hi,” she greeted stiffly.

“Hi.”

She led him to her bedroom. “My roommates aren’t home right now. But who knows how long that’ll last.”

Jason didn’t stop himself from looking around. Maybe it was a habit, all of his training of taking in every new environment with acute detail. But really Jason just wanted to take in Y/N and her new life.

That’s when he spotted the three books.

Jason immediately reached for one of them.

“Oh,” Y/N said sadly as she saw what he grabbed. “Umm…Dick told me I could take those. He…umm…said you’d want me to have them.”

“You kept them all this time?” He muttered, still looking at Pride & Prejudice.

“Of course.” Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. “You can have them back. I mean, they’re yours after all.”

Jason smirked at her fumbling. “No, keep ‘em.”

Then the tension from this strange reunion returned to the room.

Y/N gave him a heartbroken look and sat on the edge of her bed. “Jason,” she whispered, “what the hell happened to you?”

Jason slowly joined her on the bed.

His breathing shook as he tried to prepare.

But Y/N deserved to know the truth – the whole truth.

So he told her everything. He told her he was Robin. He told her how he died. He told her how he came back to life. He told her where he’d been.

The only thing he left out was how she was all he could think about when he watched the bomb tick down to 0 and he knew he was about to die. 

But the hardest part was explaining why returning to her wasn’t the first thing he did.

“It wasn’t Bruce. It…you…you were Robin that whole time?” Y/N couldn’t even seem to process it.

Jason just gave a curt nod.

“I reported him,” Y/N gasped. “I was convinced he had something to do with your death.”

Jason winced at that. “Well, if you asked him, I’m sure he’d take responsibility for it still.”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she tried to take another look at the past now that she knew the real truth that had been hidden. So many things made sense: all the injuries, Bruce’s behavior, Dick being a distant brother – all of it.

“Y/N,” Jason whispered. Her eyes whipped to his. “I’m so sorry for leaving you like that.”

Y/N finally allowed herself to cry. “Missing you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Jason didn’t care about keeping his distance any longer. He pulled Y/N into his arms, just like he used to when they were kids.

Eventually, her crying slowed and Jason knew he needed to finally say the hardest thing about this all.

“But I can’t stay, Y/N.”

Y/N wasn’t expecting that. “What?”

“I’m not…I’m not that kid anymore. I’ve done things – terrible things – that won’t ever let me return to the person you knew.”

“I don’t care,” Y/N said surprisingly harsh.

“What?”

“I said I don’t care,” even though she knew he heard her. “You think I’m the same person after 8 years, Jason? You think that little girl didn’t face the consequences of losing the best friend she’s ever had?”

Jason didn’t know what to say to that.

Y/N wiped away her tears and her entire body shifted. “From everything you’ve told me, you don’t seem to have many friends – if any. So, sounds like you could use one.”

How could Jason have overlooked Y/N’s stubbornness when he anticipated how this would all end?

“I lost you once. I’m not losing you again. Especially not with all I know now,” she added. 

Jason didn’t even bother fighting her on it. Y/N had always been his greatest weakness. At least he knew that hadn’t changed.

“OK.” He agreed. “So what now?”

Y/N smiled at his surrender. “Now…we have a whole lot of catching up to do.”

--------------------

Wow. I did not realize how long this was going to take me. 

Please, please, please let me know what you think. Reactions and feedback and reblogs are the only thing that keep me writing on here. 

[mandareeboo]

ok now im curious what your most petty thing is (regarding the dp post)

Oooh boy, here we go! Buckle up fuckers this is gonna be a longer one.

My senior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. Partially because I needed to fill the slot, mostly because I wanted to improve my writing (spoiler: I did not). Now, my high school was a three floor building- first was mostly gym, second was general, and the third was senior lockers and art classes. I spent a good chunk of my schedule senior year on the second and third floor, going between an art class to my earth science (I took that one entirely as filler, but also bc I like science) to my locker and so on.

Creative writing? Creative writing was in the fucking basement. Go to the first floor, go to a corner generally used for health and development classes, to another corner, follow a ramp and some stairs, and boom there it is kind of basement. (Side note but this teacher was REALLY into attendance and would get you in trouble if you were late which was really annoying since basically no other class was in that part of the building).

My creative writing teacher wasn't bad, per se. I've had worse teachers. I had an algebra teacher who delighted in making freshman girls cry and mocking them for it. I had a journalism teacher who would use her class time reporting how Hilary was secretly ill during the election. I had a history teacher say trans people weren't real to an openly gender nonconforming student (I didn't know them well enough to ask for specifics on their alignment, but they were using they/them at that point) and set up assignments just to mock students on the take they were told to make. It was more that she was uncreative and took it out on the kids doing creative writing.

She gave us two books to read. Basically “how I write” by published authors. I don’t remember the first one well enough and I donated it ages ago, but the second was Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It was 3/4′s personal stories about his life and 1/4′s “also write a bit every day”.  I mostly remember the first author bc she had those fake dreadlocks white people do when they destroy their hair and she gleefully told a story about making her son have a meltdown at a party or wedding or something bc he got overwhelmed and she wanted him to learn that “sometimes you don’t get what you want”. So. You know. Not much there.

She also instructed us to write in a journal every day, which she would check every few months or so. It had to be at least half a page. She would leave little comments in every one else’s journals when she checked them, but not mine- I realized pretty quickly she was a bit uncomfortable with LGBT+ content, so I made it my mission to make every journal drabble as gay as possible bc I was bored and she couldn’t mark them WRONG when she just stated we needed to write.

But it doesn’t end there! Through the entire class, we got exactly five writing projects. Stories that follow very specific guidelines that we would then read in front of the class, group proofread, and then have the teacher give final grades for. These things were approximately like a thousand words a piece, and I was writing out my 10,000 word “It Starts off Small” story in class when I got bored, so it wasn’t difficult. 

Our first project was a character going through a difficult decision. Or... something? I honestly forget the criteria. Anyway, I was HYPE. I’d had this idea for a long time now a human choosing between peaceful death or reincarnation, and this gave me the push to write it! I had a whole thing planned with death being a deer and reincarnation being a wolpertinger (bc reincarnation leads to many possibilities, ed boy, so a Frankenstein bunny made sense to me). Anyway I poured my heart and soul into this bastard and, bright eyed and bushy tailed, handed it in. My classmates all thought it was pretty good. Not to toot m’own horn, but there was some pretty bad ones going in, so I thought I’d get a solid B or something.

I got a D. I guess the struggle was too metaphorical, or it didn’t perfectly fit her criteria. I was devastated. Then I was mad. Bc I was a bored senior who thought they’d made something pretty decent for this completely optional class and her refusal to see that really hurt me at sixteen (I was always a year younger than my other classmates, so despite being a senior I didn’t turn eighteen until almost a year after graduation)

Well, fuck it, I decided. I’m going to parody the shit out of this class.

Our next project was a fantasy story. I was bitter and grumpy. The other fantasy stories read aloud were stuff like “yeah this dude fought a wizard and got a girl, then they went home and banged” (this was not hyperbole, he would’ve written and read the smut if allowed, I knew him personally) and “this girl that NO ONE UNDERSTOOD was called CRAZY but this S@!$ cheerleader who Stole Her Boyfriend so she killed them all” (fun fact: the girl who wrote that was my age and a sort of half-friend from middle school. She was a yaoi fangirl who didn’t mind lesbians as long as they, you know, didn’t FLIRT with her or something.) 

So I get up there. It’s the last day of presentations. And I present with a polite cheer. My story is about two magical shepherd type figures who are called Sister Brighten and Brother Dick as they chase down a werewolf who was drunk off his ass and accidentally bit someone else. They then revealed they were basically supernatural designated drivers for the whole town. I made Brighten mention that Dick’s name wasn’t even Richard. I titled it “His Favorite Brand is Grayhound”. It fit every single criteria. I got an A. I could tell she didn’t want to, because there was no comments or anything like everyone else’s, but she had to follow her own criteria.

Our third was a conjoined effort thing so I didn’t pull any fuckery there, but the fourth one was about common myths and spinning them into real or fake. One girl did the hook-handed door handle thing and the boyfriend ended up above his truck hanging (somehow???). I think someone did the age-old adage of a haunted wedding dress? I kind of read through those presentations. 

Now, I’m salty-salty at this point. I wasn’t expecting His Favorite Brand is Grayhound to get me a good grade. I half-assed a lot of it. I am in full Not Happy Teenager at this point. I grab a daddy long leg and settle in.

My fourth story of the year is “Paperskin.”

Paperskin is about a boy named Billy with the thinnest skin membrane ever. Just full on body horror. You could see his teeth behind his lips. Billy gets bored one day and wanders out of his house, tries to kick a soccer ball, and breaks a leg. As he’s laying in the grass a daddy long leg bites him- and his skin is so flimsy the fangs sink in and he dies. I’m actually still pretty proud of Paperskin. It’s a horrifying, Edgar Allen Poe of a monstrosity, but it made people squirm, which was the point. The teacher is clearly a bit unnerved at this point, but she gives me another A. 

I wrote a more “normal” story after that of a contentious objector forced to house kids going to see if any confirmed soldier deaths were any of their parents as my final one and I could feel her spite as she gave me a B.

So, yeah. That’s the story of when I tormented my creative writing teacher with The Gays and my weird ass sense of humor after she called one of my best works at that age a piece of shit.

 Here’s a google drive of these bad boys, because yes I do still have these things. I turned these fuckers in for grades, people.

[effervescentslut]

how you meet | edward cullen

A/N: wowowow after being on Tumblr for 6+ years I would have NEVER imagined my first published writing to this site being Twilight dnvjdfjaskdlmfkl enjoy!! requests are open :)) I will write for Twilight (mainly the Olympic Coven, except Jasper romantically), Star Wars, and Harry Potter

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Reader gets unsolicited attention from teenage boys, swear words

when you moved to forks after spring break because of your dad’s work, you’re unanimously nicknamed new girl™ by all of forks high school’s students

and consequently, you’re the new eye candy for your male peers

Forks boys are, well . . . neanderthals douchebags

the ones you’ve met are egotistical, super immature, and super HORNY

. . . you decide to keep your distance

aNyWaYs

you get smooshed into ap u.s. history

apush, baby, apush HAAAAA

the teacher points you to an empty seat next to some pale blonde dude

he gives off weird kid energy at first but then he politely speaks to you

“i’m jasper. welcome to forks” and gives you an acknowledging nod

his eyes are topaz!!!?? woooooooah that’s so cool is that like a genetic defect or smth??

aaaaand your teacher immediately assigns a PROJECT

a fuckin civil war project

you swear you see jasper’s pupils dilate

you hear a chuckle from behind you

and when you turn around you see a pale dude w a dark brown buzzcut and some blonde girl smirking beside him

you later find out that those are his siblings

his fuckin goofy ass siblings

anyways a few weeks pass

you pop in at your dad’s job @ forks hospital and see him chatting w a fellow physician

yet another pale dude with blonde hair 

JESUS HOW FUCKING MANY ARE THERE

you approach them and your dad embraces you in a hug

“heeeeyyyy sweet pea! how’s it goin’!” 

the doctor he was talking to looks at you fondly

“hello, i’m carlisle cullen” and offers you his hand to shake, which you do

“y/n, carlisle was just inviting us to his house later tonight for some dinner”

dr. hotpants puts his hands in his pockets and humbly grins

“my son jasper tells me you’re his classmate”

oh god he’s one of those pta dads, isn’t he??

“oh, yeah, he’s my partner in history”

he smiles, “that’s wonderful. my wife esme and i would love to have you both over as our guests. it’s not often we have company for dinner. and i’m sure the rest of my children would love to meet you, y/n”

jesus christ how many kids does this guy have?? he looks THIRTY

don’t worry, in the car your dad tells you they’re all adopted lmfao

✰✰later that night✰✰

their house is HUGE jesus fuckin christ

alice knows (well they all know) about you because of jasper

IMMEDIATELY loves you!!

“hi! i’m alice!!!”

WHOLESOME AS FUCK UGH

i’m EVAPORATING. i’m YODELLING. it’s fine :-)

you thought you weren’t gonna make any pals in forks bc of the weird horny teenage specimens but here we are ;-;

alice envelopes you into a tight hug and you, in shock, grasp her arms to acknowledge this affection

your dad’s chillin near carlisle and esme and he’s silently chuckling

oh . . . they all have black eyes now?? must be the weather

or the fluorescence

you wave at jasper, rosalie, and emmett

you notice the last sibling

he’s very handsome

to you, everything about him was attractive

his soft hair contrasted against his hardened facial features

you could tell he was socially reserved when it comes to new acquaintances, just like you

he physically isolates himself from his family once you and your dad arrived

he was standing alone near a corner away from everyone else

you make eye contact with him and his mental barrier breaks down

he loses his cool

his face contorts

his lips twist into puckered lines

he claps his hand over his mouth and vacates the room immediately, running up the stairs

everyone notices his sudden departure

his family is shocked but tbh not really

✰✰✰ eddy boy is a lil shy around girls sometimes ✰✰✰

carlisle breaks the impending doom of silence

“i apologize for edward leaving us so abruptly. he hasn’t been feeling well as of late; please excuse his absence. . .”

you awkwardly pretend like that never happened

you feel it in your gut that your presence disturbed him

and not only did you disturb him

but you disturbed him so bad that he had to leave

for why?? you don’t know

you then realize that everyone else in the room knows he left bc of you

. . . anyway you all sit down at the table but you and your dad are the only ones who have plates

your dad notices this too

“hey, aren’t you guys gonna eat too?”

esme grins warmly at him

“oh, don’t worry about us. we just wanted to welcome you to town!”

uhhh, ok ma’am

alice talks to you for almost the entire time you were eating ;-; i love her

you’re also talking to jasper, cracking some apush jokes

you, jasper, emmett, and rosalie talk shit about your classmates and teacher

“why the fuck -- *carlisle glares at emmett* -- heck did mr. whatshisface give us a project RIGHT AFTER BREAK???!!”

“and he paired y/n and jasper!! they’re civil war  n e r d s!! they’re gonna get the best grade” rosalie chimes in

“not if we--”

alice  ❀politely❀  tells them to stfu

you giggle

bonding with your new pals <33

allllllright so it’s a few days later

you’re walking home from school

it’s drizzling, as always, but you know that it’s gonna rain harder if you don’t get home fast enough

and some asshole

some persistent prick from your class

keeps flirting with you

he’s talking about how he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since you came to forks

he’s insisting he has your phone number, that he’s gonna take you out on dates. . .

you hate it

you’re so uncomfortable but you can’t really do anything about it

s u d d e n l y

a car pulls up beside where you and the guy are walking on the sidewalk and screeches to a stop

the window is rolled down and you see a familiar face

it’s edward cullen

with one hand on the wheel, he looks at both of you and clenches his jaw

“get in”

even though he was undeniably weird a few weeks ago, you concede

you never got to speak to him, but you knew that edward was trustworthy

you practically launch yourself into his silver volvo c30™

he shoots a stone-cold glare to the jackass on the sidewalk and drives away

honestly, it wouldn’t take much for anyone (not just a mind-reading vampire) to know how uncomfortable you are after what just happened with that guy

your body language is tense

your arms are crossed tightly

your body is pointed towards the passenger window as your knees touch the door

tears are welling up in your eyes

it would be mere seconds until you fully broke down

you’re embarrassed, to say the least

you’re embarrassed that you were put in a vulnerable situation, like a damsel in distress

and of all people, the handsome and mysterious guy--

the handsome and mysterious guy you began crushing on

--who feels seemingly indifferent towards you swept you off your feet and helped you when you needed someone

that made things even more embarrassing

and the tears started streaming down your heated cheeks

edward immediately sensed your unease (hmm wonder why, but also who wouldn’t sense it???)

he’s pissed. 

absolutely livid

that asshole had a  d e a t h w i s h

he knew you didn’t want to address your unsolicited encounter, so . . .

*awkwardly clears throat* “are you enjoying the weather?”

you choked

you did not expect him to ask that

nor did you expect him to talk at. all.

you smile through your tears and laugh

you can’t help but laugh

he’s just so awkward and cute

his half-baked plan of indirectly distracting you definitely worked

you started to excitedly talk about the rain and how much you love gloomy, cloudy days

. . . and then the elephant in the room

the inevitable first impression from a few days ago

“i’m sorry for my behavior from our first meeting. i wasn’t feeling well, and i wouldn’t have wanted for you or your father to be affected by my illness”

you’re a little skeptical at first

buuuuut you give him the benefit of the doubt and dismiss his apology

“that’s okay. it’s allergy season, anyway. i’m glad you’re feeling better”

you have no idea how bad i wanted to make a spanish flu joke right there

a small, soft smile lifts the corners of his lips “i’m edward cullen”

you look at him and return the smile

t h e  t e a s i n g  e n e r g y

“i’m y/n”

the car approaches your house after time seems to have flown by

your dad looks at you both as he walks to his car to go to work

he waves at edward

edward smiles and waves back at him as he enters the car

you gratefully thank edward for the ride, careful not to dwell on the prior circumstances

as you open the passenger door, edward grabs your wrist

!!he grabs your wrist!!

he insists on being your ride to and from school from now on

you object and exit the car

but

b u t

edward smirks, leaning towards the open door

“i’ll see you in the morning, y/n” 

your jaw drops

and then he closes the door and speeds off

you watch him drive away and your heartbeat becomes arrhythmic 

a garden of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach

blood rushes to your cheeks once more

you smile to yourself before heading inside

secretly anticipating tomorrow morning :’)

[hongjoongtrasher]

the beauty and the beast (chapter 1)

word count: 2k461

angst

series masterlist

Synopsis:

When you move to a new city due to your father's job, you don't expect to stay for a long and so decided not to get attached to the world around you.

But still, you are "the new girl", unwillingly attracting people's attention because of your family's background. Your strict father expects a lot from you, not to say perfection. And when you are sit next to a certain Jung Yunho, you didn't expect your life to take a radical turn

You don’t even remember when you stayed more than a year in the same city. It probably started around the age of 3, when your father got his promotion he wanted for so long. That’s how your family used to move every year, or even shorter than this. You don’t remember having a childhood friend, and worst, have you ever had friends ?

The unfamiliar view of the busy city at your window made you remember that once again, you had to unpack the few items you owned. You quickly discovered it was more a burden to drag along unnecessary things that would later be a pain in the ass to unpack and pack forever. Only school books, clothes and some other accessories were keeping you company in this new room. So impersonal, cold. But it would stay this way, since you knew you’d probably move on again in few months. While tidying your room, you heard a knock on your door, making you look at it to see your father.

« Y/N ? Can we talk for a bit ? » he asked, a poker face on.

« Yes father. »

Father. From the moment you could speak, he always told you to call him father. No dad, or affectionate pet names. It was just showing the gap that have been created so far between you both. Your mom ? You don’t even remember her face. You learnt from your grand-mother a long time ago that your parents got divorced when you were just a newborn. The reasons to this separation are staying difficult to know, but your father never talked about her in your presence. You always thought that somehow she didn’t want you, that was probably the best reason you could thought due to the lack of her tries to contact you for 17 years. So instead of a mom, you grew up with a nanny who was still living with you and your father. She was a sweet and caring person, always making sure you weren’t lacking anything. You owed her a lot, knowing she was the one who was basically raising you up, of course with the directions of your father.

You soon arrived in the large living room, as impersonal as the rest of the luxurious apartment your father got from his work. It was neutral as possible, but still anybody could notice the taste for luxury he acquired with the time. Trophies, some modern canvas you couldn’t even interpret, a large TV with home cinema etc. Your father was sitting in his black leather armchair, in his usual white shirt and black suit. And you just sat down on the white sofa, waiting patiently for him to start.

« I got you a place in a school from a friend of mine. » he began, and you felt your body being rigid.

Studies were his obsession when it comes to you. You always had to be first, having the best grades, the best in every field you could reach. That was probably also the main reason of why you never got close friends. Because you were « Miss Perfect Brain » and the only child from a wealthy family, most of people thought you were just like one of those entitled kids who would think they are the one ruling in this world. But you were not. Actually, you never wanted any of those thing. How many times you wanted to go to clubs after class ? Just hanging out with kids from your age, sharing hobbies etc…But you never could because your father would always send you to study classes after your school schedules.

« The school ranking is pretty good, so I think you are able to reach 1st place right ? » he continued, his cold glare piercing your body, making you tighten your fists on your knees.

It would be a disaster for you to be 2nd. Actually not really for you, but for your father. With him, it was first or nothing, and nothing would results as punishment for you. Even since elementary school, he would force you to copy the mistakes you’d done until 2 in the morning, « to make you remember not to do the same mistakes again ». Sometimes depriving you from eating until you would perfectly recite the lesson. As a child, you had spent nights crying in your pillow, hating your father for being so mean to you, and today, you just gave up. As long as you were doing as told, everything would be fine, right ?

You nodded as an answer, finding the courage to finally look at his strict face.

« Y/N, this year is going to be a decisional one for you. After graduation, you’ll go to Korea University and study international business. Don’t deceive me » he announced, making you gulp at the end of his sentence.

Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. But what did you want in the first place ? You didn’t know. You couldn’t find any perspectives for yourself. And of course, you didn’t have a word to say.

« Yes Father… »

And without adding any words, he stood up and left for his office, leaving you alone in the living room. You wanted to cry, to yell how unfair it was for letting someone decide for yourself. You throat was dry and your fists were trembling from madness until you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder. It was Sookja, your nanny and the housekeeper. She probably heard the whole conversation, and was knowing perfectly how you felt at this moment.

« This is so unfair… » you mumbled into your breath, trying to hold back your tears of pure rage.

« I know sweetie… » the old woman sighed. « Maybe he will let you do what you want later » she tried to soften your mood, but it was already ruined.

You sighed and stood up, just shrugging to join your bedroom again, head dipping first into your pillow. You didn’t feel like unpacking, so you just stayed in your bed, until your nanny came to inform you dinner was ready. As usual, you were eating alone. Your father never ate with you, because of his schedules. How funny it was to see that even on your birthday he would be absent, justifying himself to be busy but that he would « make it up for the next year ». Weariness eventually took over sadness. This was your daily life, and you didn’t expect it to change now…Unless.

It was your first day at your new high school. You were so nervous that you had barely eaten on the morning. You were apprehending people. Of course you were used to see new faces all the time, but this time was different. You were arriving in the middle of the first semester in a school where everyone from your prom was knowing each other’s, and to crowned everything, your father was accompanying you this morning to greet his friend, the principal for this year. The more the black Audi was entering the school yard, the more you wanted to become a mouse. You hated so much those looks of curiosity, or full of judgment. Your father intimated you to get off the car, which you did, looking at the floor while the Principal was waiting at the main entrance. You didn’t hear the following conversation, your heart beating too fast and in your ear. Some students stopped to watch the scene, and some of them at the windows were taking pictures. How embarrassing. Little did you know a group of boys were also watching from the first floor.

« Heh, is this the new girl everyone’s talking about ? » hummed a blonde boy, his chin in the palm of his hand while he was leaning on the window sill.

« Seems like it » answered a tall boy, a lollipop in his mouth. « Dude, she looks hot »

« Mingi, you even haven’t seen her face yet » groaned the little blonde again.

Mingi shrugged and said. « Hongjoong, she’s rich, so she’s hot »

« You’re an idiot » sighed the said Hongjoong, rolling his eyes in exasperation. « What d'you think Yunho ? »

Yunho stayed silent during the whole conversation, hands in his pockets as he was watching the scenery before scoffing. « She’s just a little rich bitch » he mumbled before turning from this, going to his classroom.

You had to stay at the professor’s room, so that the Principal could introduce you to your homeroom teacher. Strangely enough, all the teachers seemed too nice. Of course they were. The shadow of your father must be planning around. « Let’s go introducing you to your new comrade » said your teacher enthusiastically which made you forced a smile. You silently followed him to the door where he made a sign for you to wait. Your heart was about to explode, as you could hear the sounds for chairs and people chatting in the classroom. You didn’t know how much you waited in this hallway, but your teacher appeared again, calling your name. You jumped a little, not expecting this time to come…so quickly. Gulping again, you slowly passed the door to present you in front of everyone, your eyes scanning the room. « Can you please introduce you ? » Asked your teacher, everyone’s waiting to hear the sound of your voice for the first time. You really wanted to run away and never come back, but you couldn’t. Your father would definitely kill you.

« H-hi, my name is Y/N, nice to meet you » you said, quite unsure of yourself.

Some kids applauded, which made you blush from embarrassment.

« Alright, Y/N you can go sit next to Yunho there » said your teacher, pointing at the front row at the very left of the room, not to say the corner.

Your eyes landed for the first time on the boy called Yunho. His black wavy hair were hiding his forehead and also his eyes, but you could definitely feel he was glaring at you. Not staring, but glaring as if you did something wrong. But what could you have done wrong ? Was sitting next to him a crime ? You awkwardly sat down next to him, feeling the cold tension radiating from the silent boy next to you. At some point, you really felt uncomfortable, to the point you didn’t dare looking at him a single time. You tried your best to focus on the class, nervously holding your pen. Surprisingly, the first two hours of class went by fast, but you still haven’t talked with Yunho, and he seemed not trying to neither. When the bell ranged, announcing the first break of the day, you gathered your things before you heard his deep voice for the first time.

« Move. » he ordered in an annoyed tone, his tall figure dominating your frail one.

Your heart stopped beating for a second, suddenly scared. He seemed mad at you for God knew which reason, but you quickly moved to let him pass, looking at your feet while you could hear a « Tsch… » from him.

What the hell was happening ? Why this boy was hating you from the start ? You took your phone and went to the girls toilet, to regain composure, but still, you felt a dark aura from him. While you were thinking about this, you heard girls gossiping outside the cabinet you were occupying.

« Did you see that ? She is next to Yunho ! »

« The poor girl, I bet she won’t stay next to him for a long time » said another girl, in a mocking way.

« She doesn’t know he’s a total douchebag tho. »

« Hey ! He’s still hot. But yeah, a douchebag »

And they laughed before exiting the place. What does this mean ? You began to get really worried about this Yunho. He seemed to be a bad guy, but was he really ? You inhaled deeply again before going back to your classroom, expecting to see Yunho again, but he wasn’t here anymore.

Class started again, and you couldn’t help but wonder where Yunho went and why he left. Your new Korean literature teacher didn’t seem surprised when doing roll call. « Ditching classes again huh ? » he mumbled before going on.

At lunch time, you searched for a place to eat alone. You didn’t feel like going to the cafeteria or stayed in class to eat, so you went to the rooftop, surprisingly empty. You expected to see at least one or two people…But anyway, it was better for you. Leaning against the wall of the staircase, you took out the lunch box Sookja made for you with your favorite food inside as a good luck charm for your first day. It slightly made you smile and brought you some comfort. You didn’t want to think to anything, just having some peace until you heard loud laughs from the stairs, making you panicking and quickly packed your lunch to see a group of boys who seemed as surprised as you to find you here.

« Oh, isn’t the « New girl » ? » smirked the small blonde guy.

You quickly looked away, mumbling a « sorry » before trying to pass over them, but an arm blocked your route.

« Hey, you could at least say hi when someone’s talking to you » groaned the tallest from the pack.

You felt intimidated. You just wanted to leave, without creating any problems. You looked up at the tall guy, scared about what he was about to do next until you noticed wavy black hair. Yunho was here also, and he didn’t seem to pay attention.

« I-I’m sorry, I just want to go p-please » you said weakly, the panic gaining your body each second passing by.

« Tss, is that how rich bitch like you are behaving huh ? »

This was escalating quickly. You were too scared to do anything, when you saw the tall guy’s hand reaching out for you too rapidly, making you flinch.

« Mingi. Stop. »

It was Yunho’s voice. As you shut your eyes tight, you slowly opened them to see an annoyed Mingi, rubbing his nape in frustration while the blonde guy was shocked. Yunho looked at his friends.

« Hongjoong, let’s go somewhere else » he added to the blonde guy.

Hongjoong nodded and slighlty pushed Mingi away to the stairs, only Yunho staying still, his dark orbs fixed on you in silence.

« Hey, I really hate people like you, but I didn’t want Mingi to do something bad, so you better go now. » he warned, giving you a cold shiver in your back.

Why was this always like this ? No matter where you go, people always hate you, or fake to be friendly to you because of your status. You felt tears filling your eyes, but you with the few pride left in you, you left Yunho alone on this rooftop, running away from him until next class. You were certain of a thing, Yunho hated you and you're far to know he'd soon take advantage of you.

chapter 2 coming soon ! please let me know what you think about this first chapter <3

taglist: @palegardenrebel @mirror-juliet @twancingyunhoe @yeosangmystar @dreamer95 @tinyteenieateez @yunsangoveryonder @tenebrisirae

Couldn’t tag : @nz-pichbg (comment to be added in the taglist)

[broadstflyers]

A/N: I am so excited to be starting my first ever series. This is inspired by Taylor Swift’s “Cardigan” because her music creates stories in my head that I must write down on (digital) paper. Please keep in mind this chapter is written in past tense, and the story probably won't be in present tense for at least another few chapters. Let me know what you think! If you want to be on the tag list for the next chapter, or drop any (constructive) feedback, you can take this survey here.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: None

Summary: They say at fourteen you’re too young to know you’re in love. But what if you aren’t?

Navigation: chapter two

Grade: 9 Age: 14 --------------------------------- As sure as you are that spring comes after winter, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and seconds turn into minutes, you know you are in love with Joel Farabee. Not the gushy “I want to hug you and kiss you and never let you go” love, the intense “I want to burst at the seams because I just want to scream it on the rooftops and tell you and it literally crushes my heart that I can’t” love.

Yeah, that love.

The problem?

You were only fourteen when you knew.

Yes, the grand old age of fourteen. The age you were supposed to be nervously texting multiple boys, wondering if you were going to be asked to the ninth grade dance and worrying about who your first kiss was going to be, or even the first person you were going to hold hands with.

It started on the first day of school, but the start of it all was less than romantic. You shuffled up the hallway with one of your best friends, your feet felt like lead.

“What’s wrong?” Luna whispered in your ear.

“I really hate math,” you huffed. It was the last period of the day, eighth period, and you had to spend it in what was probably going to be a room full of rambunctious athletes who would be itching to burst out of the room at the very sound of the bell. How did you know this? Because you had been stuck in a class like that ever since the beginning of middle school. It made for some laughs, yes, but for some reason a pessimistic attitude bitterly swarmed around you in dark circles. Also, math in general made you anxious, and it didn’t help that the last few years you had to fend for yourself because of your lack of friends in said class.

“Well, at least you’ll have me this year,” Luna attempted to reassure you and your looming anxiety.

“Yeah, but I wonder who’s going to be in our class this year,” you mumbled. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies, but you’d rather call them icky moths.

Luna opened her mouth to respond, but you reached the door frame before her. Before you could even make it through the entrance, you made eye contact with a group of rowdy boys sitting at a table directly in front of you. You stopped dead in your tracks. They paused in their shouting to turn and look at you and Luna, since you were only about seven or eight feet away.

You scanned their faces, and you recognized most of them. They were mostly hockey players that played for the local team that looked for a shot at the NTDP in just a few short years. It was Syracuse, hockey was a pretty big deal there. There was also the prospective varsity quarterback and his star wide-receiver, these labels given to them at just fourteen. Of course, more athletes. Suddenly, you locked eyes with this boy you strangely have never seen before. His hand was hovering in air over his friend’s head with what you could only assume is his friend’s pencil in a lame attempt to keep him from grabbing it.

He blinked a few times, and you might have blinked a few times, you honestly couldn’t remember.

You snapped out of your trance and looked over to the board that said, “Welcome class! Pick your seats for the first day!”

“Hey,” Luna nudged you and grabbed your arm, “let’s sit over there.”

She lead you to a table adjacent to the boys’ table, despite your unheard protests of being “too close” to them.

You took your seat huffing, and you pulled out your binder and got ready for class, something you wished the crazy boys would pick up on. Thankfully the bell rang, your teacher shut the door, and class began.

That’s the first time you saw him. Not very eventful, but hey, you two were awkward fourteen year olds just entering grade nine. Of course things were not going to be all fireworks and love at first sight.

---------------------------------

A few classes went by, and the only disturbance that occurred was when the class was taking one of those horrible diagnostic tests. See, you really hated disturbances, interruptions, anything relating to that matter.

So when this dude named Joel (you learned his name when he was yelled at for playing rap music in the middle of class) started fooling around with his friend while you were trying to figure out why letters were in math now, you weren’t happy, to say the least.

And when he locked eyes with you and made a silly face, yours did not move in a rather unamused manner. You simply blinked and looked back down at your test.

You missed his face slightly fall, but it was short lived when the teacher yelled his name from across the room and made everyone jump ten feet. He was quiet after that.

---------------------------------

It was a random Tuesday in late October.

You and Luna were chatting about your previous classes, until you both stopped in your tracks and you raised an eyebrow. Everyone in your class was standing up and congregating away from tables. You could hear the ominous music creeping over everyone’s heads.

“Oh no,” you whined to Luna.

She winced. “We’re being assigned seats, aren’t we?”

You nodded. You both stood in the sea of kids and awaited your fate.

“Alright, everyone,” your teacher said. “You guys have been extremely chatty lately.” She paused to side-eye Joel and his friends.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly shut it when she frowned.

“So you leave me no choice, but I must assign seats,” she dramatically said as she unveiled the new seating chart on the board.

Everyone pushed and shoved to the front to see where their name lied in the cards of fate. You heard some soft celebrations and loud protests.

You nudged your way in and scanned up and down the board. Luna wasn’t at the same table, but she was sitting facing towards you at another table. Hopefully you and her would be able to make eye contact. You scanned until you see your name fall right next to someone who you would rather forget you treated so poorly. It was there in bright, bold red.

Joel Farabee.

“Aw man,” you and a voice said in unison. You looked up at your side to see that it’s him. Oh dear brother. Did you both just admit out loud that you don’t want to sit next to each other? You and him rolled your eyes at each other, huffing that you’ll be forced to be in each other’s presence.

And you knew he was thinking some sort of variation of what you were: how dare your teacher.

You trudged over to your seat and plopped down. He threw down his stuff and sat next to you. You could sense his extreme dislike for your rather serious demeanor. Hey, you could crack a smile.

Just not around him. And for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. It’s almost like if you did, you knew you would never stop...

You both avoided eye contact, you played with your pencil as he yelled to one of his friends across the classroom about some stupid video game.

And that’s just how it was for weeks. You’d both come in, sit down, he’d scream to his friends, you’d fight shooting him a really dirty look.

Until one day, you accidentally did. Now, later when you told Luna, you swore up and down you didn’t mean to, and it was just the fact that seventh period gym was terrible (but when was it not). Okay, so maybe you were fed up with him yelling about whatever rap song came out, or whatever Instagram model popped up on his feed (that made you shutter).

But what you did wasn’t really admittedly the nicest.

“Joel, do you always have to yell so freaking loudly?” you snapped.

He feigned a stunned expression, or maybe he really meant it, who knows what goes on in that boy’s seemingly empty head.

“Do you have to be such a downer…like all the time? Kinda ruins the vibe bro.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks Joel, because the number one thing I care about is ruining your ‘vibe’,” you put that word in air quotes, “and not getting any work done in this class, bro.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Look, you could benefit from loosening up a little, you know? You’re kind of just, not a fun person.”

A look of real hurt flashed across your face. One that he caught. “No,” you punctually state. Then you turn your seat so you completely have your back to him and you’re facing the board.

Meanwhile Luna and your table-mates watched the whole situation unfold. Okay, and maybe most of the class.

And when the bell rang and he called your name, you simply decided you didn’t hear it.

“He’s calling you,” Luna prodded.

You just shook your head as you continued down the hallway to the bus. On the bus, you had some thinking to do.

Did he really think of you as...boring? You usually didn’t let the immature words of boys get to you, but this, this really hurt.

---------------------------------

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Luna insisted that evening while lying on your bedroom floor that same Friday evening.

“Yes he did, and he’s kind of right,” you begrudgingly conceded. “I haven’t been the nicest to him,” you sigh into your hands, “and maybe I should be.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Luna curiously asked.

“I, I don’t know.”

---------------------------------

The following Monday, you winced and leaned into Luna as you approached the classroom. To say you were terrified is an understatement.

But you took a deep breath, held your head high, and locked your face into a neutral expression. You never let anyone get the best of you, and you weren’t going to let Joel out of all people be one of the first.

Luna offered a small sympathetic smile as she made her way to her seat.

Your heart beated out of your chest anticipating his arrival. Sure enough, you caught him out of the corner of your eye. He took his time and strutted around the room to talk to all the friends he had. He was obviously looking to avoid you, too.

Coward.

Eventually, he made his way to his seat. He cleared his throat, but you didn’t budge. Ever heard of being saved by the bell?

“I’m going to hand back everyone’s quizzes from last class,” your teacher announced. You audibly groaned. That quiz did not go well. Who puts diamonds and boxes and something called factoring in math?

Sure enough, she shoved a C- into your sweaty hands.

“Dang,” you whispered.

You glanced over at Joel’s paper. 100%.

Are you kidding me?

His prying eyes had the audacity to spot your C-, as if you didn’t pry on his paper seconds before.

“That’s rough,” he said, trying to make eye contact with you.

“I- um, yeah, it is,” you choked out with your eyes still glued on your paper.

His heart broke when he heard your wavering voice. He had to do something.

“Can I see it?” He quietly asked, when quiet usually isn’t typically his demeanor.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Uh, sure?”

He took the paper and started drawing stars around the C- mark, very messily, may you add.

You went to take the paper back, but he moved it away from your grasp.

“One second,” he pleaded. He stuck his tongue out in concentration.

You tried to see how badly he was defacing your quiz, but the position of his arm prohibited you from peering over to see.

“Done,” he proudly said as he slid the paper back over to you.

Instead of a plain old C-, there was now...a C- with stars around it.

“Joel, this is very lovely and all, but why the stars around the C-?”

He smiled with his sickeningly sweet toothless grin, and your heart absolutely backflipped into oblivion.

“That’s not a C-,” he goofily joked, “that’s the moon, y/n,” he said through a smile. “See it?”

You looked up from your paper and looked at him in the eye. Your hands shook from adrenaline, your heart was fluttering, goodness, you didn’t know how you could feel any lighter.

That smile was going to be the death of you.

“Yeah, Joel,” you cracked a smile, “I do see it. Thank you,” you sincerely said.

Crack a smile.

You cracked a smile.

His heart skipped a beat. He knew instantly he was going to do whatever it took to keep that smile on your face for as long as possible. He didn’t care what he would have to do.

He smiled once more, and he turned to his buddies to shield his face from you. He didn’t want you to see how red it was turning. He proceeded to explain to them how perfect his stars were and how no one could top them. Something along the lines of “Bro, you have to see this one, it’s so perfect bro…” He also told them how he made you feel better while slapping his chest, for some reason, as in yeah, I made the mopiest girl in school smile. He sounded like he was priding himself on it.

His smile, the way he talked about you, those freaking stars. You’d let him draw those all over your arm instead any day.

At that age, you may not have known why there were letters in algebra, but you knew that the way he made you feel wasn't the same as you did with your two other crushes back in middle school. This just felt...absolutely weird.

But absolutely right.

And that’s the story of how at just fourteen years old, you knew you were absolutely screwed.

[shinsoussimp]

all right, you said it’s fine, so here’s another one 🤍 (yes, i’m addicted to your writings so :0 )

mirio? big yes. hurt/comfort with a gay reader? definitely.

so like, the reader used to study in another school, and had been outed and everyone in his class were very mean and rude about that. so now it’s his biggest fear to be outed again, but he really falls in love with mirio after some time. they spend a lot of time together, and get really close. reader doesn’t know mirio likes him back because for him, every person will be mad at (y/n) for liking boys (because of the past trauma yk). and one day someone from their class accidentally activated their “saying truth” quirk on reader and confession to mirio just slips from his lips in front of him and the whole class. and like, after that he runs away in absolute panic, thinking everyone will mock and hate him again. he starts avoiding mirio just not to see him disappointed, when in reality togata just wants to say he likes him back? 🥺 so one day he just catches him and doesn’t let him to run? 🥺 saying he would love to be his boyfriend 👉🏻👈🏻 maybe a bit comforting from classmates yk? sorry it’s so long again 😞🤍

a/n: sephiii you’re requests are always amazing :) i would never say no to you sending one in! i hope you like it!!

a/n: y/h/n= your hero name, also i said parent (they/them) in an effort to be more inclusive, i don’t know people’s family life. if you have any other ideas where i can be more inclusive, please let me know!

TW: homophobia, violence (shoving), blackmail

a/n: requests are open! (p.s. i’m on a mirio kick right now to let everyone know ahaha)

Mirio x homophobia

becoming a hero was always your dream, since you were a little kid. you didn’t want anything standing in the way of that. so when you finally made your way to shiketsu high, you were determined to never let anyone find out about you being gay. but somehow, it still happened.

“yo, y/h/n!” a second year student ran up to you as you were walking to the cafeteria and threw his arm around your shoulder, “can you do a favor for me?~” he always would get you to help him cheat on exams, but at this point, you were tired of breaking the rules.

“dude i can’t keep doing this. i’m not gonna risk getting in trouble so you can get good grades. try studying.” you huff while shaking his arm off you. he moves to stand in front of you to block your path as you try to get to your table, and he gets visibly more and more angry.

“seriously?” he says through clenched teeth. you could tell he was one of those kids who was too used to getting what he wants whenever he wants it, and he doesn’t know how to handle anything different. 

“i’m serious. we would’ve been caught some day.” you try to move around him but he grabs your arm and starts pulling you to the middle of the cafeteria. 

“fine. then i guess i’m gonna have to tell everyone your little secret.” shit. you had gotten so used to helping him you forgot the reason why you began your little deal in the first place, he knew you were gay. before you could stop him, he had already begun.

“hey, everyone! i have a little announcement that you all would enjoy. y/n over here, y/h/n if you will, is gay.” you weren’t able to cover his mouth without him grabbing your wrists and holding them down by your sides so he could continue talking, “that’s right, he likes dick. do with that what you will~” he shoves you back a bit when he finally lets go of your arms, and waltzes out of the cafeteria like nothing even happened. everyone starts gossiping around you, giving you weird looks as you run off into the bathroom. 

once the bell rang and you needed to go to class, you tried to get there early, so you didn’t need to walk in front of a full classroom. you sat in the back today, but that didn’t mean you were invisible. it started with the girls that sat in front of you giggling, then one of the boys that only had your number for a group project sent you an eggplant emoji. but the cherry on top was one of the most well known boys in your class coming up to you and asking, for everyone to hear, if you were trying to suck his dick. luckily the second bell rang and the teacher came in, forcing them all to back off for now, but this lasted for the next week. it lasted up until you couldn’t take it anymore. you stood up and stormed out of the classroom and never returned. you didn’t go to school for the rest of the year. and with you refusing to return to shiketsu high, you thought your dream of being a hero was ruined. but one morning your parent mentioned the idea of applying to ua. 

even though you thought you had no chance of getting in, you took a chance. you went to the admissions office, sent in your application, did all the interviews, and now it was time to wait. and now after a long summer, you finally got a letting from ua.

you got in.

not only were you thrilled to be admitted to the best school for heros, you were thrilled that you never had to go back to shiketsu. you could start over, continue your hero journey. and hopefully you would not get in another situation like last time. 

your first two months at your new school went great. you were a second year now, and getting to do many new and exciting things with your training. you made great friends and even developed a bit of a crush. this was dangerous territory, since you didn’t want anyone to know about your sexuality, but you couldn’t stop yourself from hanging out with him. the person in question? mirio togata. the cute third year you passed by in the halls and always came in your class to talk about his experience as lemillion. and you got to call him your friend. you two trained together, you hung out with him and the rest of the big three after school, and he always made sure to join you during lunch breaks at school. in such a short period of time, you two became best friends. and you would never risk messing that friendship up. 

but then one day, the unthinkable happens. you thought since things had been going so well for so long, you were in the clear. nobody seemed to know, shiketsu kids didn’t snitch, and training was going incredibly. you and a group of second and third years were hanging out in an empty classroom when someone suggested playing truth or dare.

the rules were simple, pick dare and someone picks a dare for you to do, pick truth and you would be hit by your classmate, asami’s quirk. her quirk was called confession. when in effect, you will be compelled to spill one of your deepest secrets. but you seemed to have a bit of a misunderstanding of her quirk. you didn’t get to choose which secret. so little did you know, your fake secret that you ‘once called your teacher mom in 3rd grade’ was not going to be of use.

“you excited?” mirio plopped down next to you happily. you nodded, because you were. you were genuinely excited to have a friend group and play stupid games like this. 

after a few rounds, mostly of people picking dare, you wanted to be the one to switch it up. so once mirio finished bawking like a chicken and walking all around the room with his arms bent like wings, you prepared for your turn.

“truth or dare, y/n?”

“truth.” everyone dramatically gasps, then all bursting out into a fit of laughing, talking about how you had some balls to pick truth. asami sat down in front of you and took a deep breath to prepare herself.

“you ready?” she smiles. you nod, letting her hand brush yours. you felt a rush of warmth through your body then suddenly your mouth was moving.

“i’m gay. i’m really fucking gay and i like mirio.” your hand slaps over your mouth, your stomach dropping as your whole body starts shaking. that was not what you wanted to say. but there is no going back now, and you didn’t want to be here when everyone started teasing you. you especially didn’t want to see what mirio had to say about it. you didn’t want to see the disappointment that would surely be on his face. you jump up and race out of the room, ignoring mirio’s pleas for you to stop running.

he was sent to talk in your class that day, but he didn’t see you. you had decided to go home early for the day. would you really have to leave ua? you were beside yourself with anger and sadness, having to leave the best school because of a stupid game spilling your secret. you knew when you returned there would be endless teasing. it was possible that your friend group spilled the beans to the whole school and now even the first years knew. your parent tried to take your feelings into account, but they wanted to remind you of your dream, your biggest passion.

“you want to save people. it doesn’t matter if you’re gay, you can still protect people, that doesn’t stop anything.” you keep your face shoved into the pillow you were hugging close to your chest as they spoke. they took a deep breath and placed a comforting hand on your back, “look worse case scenario, they told everyone, and now people tease you. they’ll probably get over it, and if not, it’s only two more years. then you get to live your dream happily, as yourself.” 

their words encouraged you to return to school after about a week. but you still couldn’t face your friend group. especially mirio. so when the lunch bell rang, you left the school building and made your way to the side of it to eat lunch out on a bench by some trees. you figured that mirio or some of your friends saw you, but you prayed that they wouldn’t follow you. sadly those prayers would go unanswered because next thing you know you hear a familiar voice shouting your name. you turn around and see mirio jogging towards you. you turn around and start walking faster in an effort to avoid him, but right as you arrive at the bench you’re stopped by his hand wrapping around your arm.

“would you talk to me?!” he pulls your arm, making you turn around, “you drop a bomb like that and then fall off the face of the earth for a week?!” you sigh and set down your lunch and bag behind you, still not saying anything.

“y/n seriously. what the hell?”

“if you came here to make fun of me, just get it over with.” you finally look up at him, all of your walls up taller than ever before as you prepared to have your heart broken. 

“what are you talking about?” his face has confusion written all over it but it has to be fake. he’s trying to trick you into thinking you’re safe then he’ll talk about how stupid you are to all of your other friends that has to be-

“you really think i would make fun of you?” his voice is soft and even in such a high stress moment, still puts butterflies in your belly. but he’s lying.. he has to be. he’s gonna react how everyone else did.

“y/n, i would never.” he takes a step towards you and reaches out his hand, but you slap it away taking another step back.

“i’m not gonna fall for it! you all are gonna react exactly how all those dumbass shiketsu kids did!” tears start streaming down your face and you realize that you’re shaking again. you sit down on the bench behind you and put your face in your hands as uncontrollable sobs kept coming. mirio knelt down in front of you and put his hands on your knees.

“i like you too.” your head shoots up and you look at him with wide eyes.

“w-what?”

“if you hadn’t ran out the day you said it, you would have heard that i like you too. and i didn’t know if you were gay or not but i really wanted to find out.” you relax a bit as your brain tries to comprehend the idea of something like this happening, “they all said that i was a lovestruck idiot... and they were all accepting.” he held your hands in his as you lifted your head so you could look at him.

“they all love you. and they’ve been worried sick, wondering what happened to you. but most of all me. i thought you left the school i-” he pauses to take a deep breath, “i thought i lost you.” his grip on your hands tightens. suddenly the tears streaming down your face were tears of joy, accompanied by a few laughs. he stands up and pulls you up with him, wrapping his arms around you, swallowing you in a warm bear hug.

“i would love to be your boyfriend, if you’re okay with that.” you giggle into his chest and grip onto the back of his shirt.

“i am okay with that.” he pulls his head back a bit to look at you, for a few moments not saying anything just making a smug face at you.

“i was hoping you would be, i mean you are ‘really fucking gay’“ he teases. you smack his chest as you shake your head, laughing. he explains how you should go talk to your friends and explain what happened, then you two could tell them the good news. he even started planning a date as you two made your way back to the school building, while holding hands of course.

you didn’t know it was possible, but you were going to be okay. you were going to be able to be yourself. you couldn’t wait for what the rest of your time at ua would hold.

[theeternalblue]

maybe them meeting their daughters girlfriend, or their sons friends thinking veronicas hot when they go to their house, idk you pick

(I didn't edit this. Sorry for the mistakes)

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Archie asks as she follows Veronica around the kitchen he remodeled last summer with his own hands to distract himself from the imminent fact that his baby girl would be going to college and he was fast approaching his midlife crisis. Freddie mocked him and therefore he was punished into painting cabinets under Veronica’s ruthless quality inspection.

Veronica opens one food container her favorite caterer just dropped with some fancy-looking salad, and a smile grows on her face. There are several more filling the kitchen island.

“Because we want to have family time with our children and friends, enjoying homemade food.” She opens the next container with beet hummus, and she quietly adds, “and I don’t cook but we can always pretend.”

Snorting a laugh, Archie wraps his arms around her middle from behind and presses a kiss to her cheek. “You’re the best organizing and bossing people around, the Veronica Lodge brand. Besides, I’ll be manning the grill so we can count that as homemade.”

“You seem to forget I’m an excellent mixologist. One does not own a bar without learning a few tricks.” Veronica turns around in Archie’s arms, her eyebrow kinking up.

Archie leans closer to her, provoking a smile on her beautiful face, “We also swore we wouldn’t tell our kids about your entire business history and I wouldn’t tell a thing about my vigilante days.”

She giggles and makes a shushing gesture by placing a finger over her lips, before she rises on tiptoes to give him a kiss. It’s funny how after decades together, after a long marriage and children, she’s still fond of playing with his ears when she kisses him. Veronica’s nails rake the short hairs of the back of his head – where she claimed to have spotted a few gray hairs just last week.

Kissing his wife is certainly one of his favorite things – and it must be good for his blood pressure because it soothes him and has kept him sane for years. No one could blame him when he hums in delight from deep within his chest but of course they will anyway.

“Ew, Daddy, we have guests,” Audrey quips when she enters the kitchen, hand in hand with a slightly taller girl with red hair who is smiling in amusement.

“Shush, Addie. Just like you, I have the right to kiss my beloved. Even more so after more than thirty years.” Veronica pecks Archie’s lips once more to make her point.

Audrey chuckles and turns to her girlfriend. “So, BB, are your moms as disgusting as these ancient creeps?”

Bella Blossom might be Cheryl’s kid but she was raised by Toni as well, so instead of making a snide remark, her eyes widen and she stares at her girlfriend’s parents not knowing what to say.

“Watch it,” Archie warns with a lopsided grin and winks at the girls. “We’re happy you can join us for lunch today, Bella.” He walks past them, dropping a kiss atop Audrey’s hair, making her giggle.

“Thank you, Mr. Andrews.”

Oh, how he dislikes being Mr. Andrews. Is there anything else that can make him feel older? Only the way his knee hurts when he hits the gym and he doesn’t warm up.

As he makes his way outside to the backyard deck, Archie hears Audrey teasing Veronica about her home-cooked meal. It’s a running joke in the family how each time the kids had a bake sale, Veronica spent more money buying pastries than the school made selling them.

Burgers are almost done when Cheryl and Toni arrive. This time he’s not lucky and gets a few of those Cheryl Blossom’s snarky remarks while Toni makes damage control because Bella seems upset to see her mumsy being insufferable.

“I sometimes wonder what you did in your past life to have this kind of karma,” Jughead comments before taking a sip of his beer. “Lodges, Blossoms…”

“Bears,” Munroe jests but Archie doesn’t pay much attention to his friends when he spots three of Freddie’s friends looking at his wife too intensely for his taste.

It’s a known fact Veronica was deemed the hot mom years ago when Audrey started high school, and even before that when she was teaching and she was the hot teacher. She always tells him he can’t complain because the same thing happened to him – well, tough luck, because he hasn’t noticed other people lusting after him.

He hands the spatula and grill fork to Jughead so he can take care of the barbecue without thinking. Fortunately, Munroe decides to help instead when he sees the panic etched on the writer’s face.

“Hey, guys,” Archie greets the teenage boys huddled in a corner, with a smile that makes his face hurt. He’s never been good at pretending. “Do you want a beer?” An easy test to fail for a group of fifteen-year-olds. And they are boys, so they hesitate before one of them makes the right choice by meekly shaking his head.

With a humorless laugh, Archie smacks the shoulders of two of them, with much more force than needed. “Good choice. But you must be thirsty. Were you thinking about having a drink?” He tries, this time looking at his wife pointedly. But again, these teenage kids won’t take a hint.

Veronica is serving a cocktail and chatting with Cheryl. When she feels his gaze on her, she winks at Archie and makes a simple gesture to beckon him.

Just then Freddie returns to his friends, holding a bowl of sweet potato chips and baba ganoush – because this kid might be a carbon copy of Archie’s dad but he definitely has Veronica’s sense of style and palate.

“Kid, your friends are thirsty,” Archie says without preamble and because this is Veronica Lodge’s son, he knows it will take Freddie less than a second to pick up what he means. One look shot at the bar, the tilt of his head, an arched eyebrow and… “You should be a good host.”

Freddie has a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll get you something, and then I can tell you how in my family as a rite of passage in our family you must fight a bear–”

“Freddie–” Archie’s eyes widen. Veronica hates that story. She absolutely loathes it to the point Jughead enjoyed irking her by giving teddy bears to the children for their first birthdays. “Don’t”

“Why not? I thought you’d like for them to know you fought a bear, were in the army, worked as a firefighter, and in construction so you basically know how to kill them and make them disappear in hundreds of ways and no one would find them.” Then he turns sharply and stares at his friends. “Also, I advise you to stop looking at my mother because let’s face it, you think you’re good-looking but you’re not. She’s smarter than the three of you put together. Richer than everyone else in town. And with beauty only good genes I inherited can give.” He sighs. “So, unless you fought a bear, is there anything that makes you stand out in this place?”

“Dude,” one of Freddie’s friends mutters. It feels like this talk was a bit harsh, but Freddie also hated when Audrey’s friends flirted with Veronica.

“I know! Sad. I go to therapy because living under my parents’ shadow is unbearable,” Freddie replies, which is a lie. This boy is a Lodge in the body of an Andrews – and it’s scary.

When Archie makes his way to Veronica, he immediately wraps an arm around her and pulls her close to bury his nose in her hair.

“What?” she laughs at his childish gesture.

“Our children scare me,” Archie confesses.

“You realized it just now?” Veronica leans against his side, enjoying his hold on her.

“No, but I hate having more proof.”

She chuckles and soon cackles when he tells her what happened.

“Think about this, at least Freddie didn’t lock me in the supplies closet at school like Audrey did when her classmates ogled you on her eighth-grade talent show.”

[imgoingtocrash]

my teen angst bullshit has a body count

by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents

Summary:

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.

Read on AO3

My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!

Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:

“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”

“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”

“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”

“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”

Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.

“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.

Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.

Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”

“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”

Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.

“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.

Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.

Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.

“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”

“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”

“Music endures, dude.”

“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.

“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.

Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.

Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.

In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.

(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)

Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.

“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

C’mere, Pet.

Stay down, Pet!

He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—

Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.

You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.

“Peter?”

He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.

His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—

“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”

He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.

“Peter, wait!”

Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.

He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.

The Spider.

Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.

As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.

It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.

Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.

That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.

Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.

But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.

Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?

All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.

Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.

But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.

Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?

Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.

Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.

So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.

An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.

That was Tony.

Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.

Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.

He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.

When he said his first words.

When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.

When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.

He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.

He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.

And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.

And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?

Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.

Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.

It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.

Maybe it’s something far worse.

Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.

At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.

The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.

A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.

Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.

“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.

The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”

“I’m sure his parents—”

“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”

“And you do?”

“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”

The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.

“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”

Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.

The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”

The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.

“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”

“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”

“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.

“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”

He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.

“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”

“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”

“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.

It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.

If Peter wants to see him, that is.

He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?

“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”

“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”

Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.

“Peter—”

“Let him in,” replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.

Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.

“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.

The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.

It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.

“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.

Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”

Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”

Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”

“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”

Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”

“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”

“...But?”

“But then Flash—”

“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”

“No.”

“Oh thank god.”

“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.

“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”

“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”

There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.

“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”

“Pet.”

Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.

“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”

“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”

“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”

Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.

“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”

“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.

“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”

Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.

“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.

He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.

“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”

“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.

If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.

“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”

“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”

Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.

“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”

Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.

He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.

He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.

“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”

Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”

Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.

“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.

“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”

He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.

“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”

Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.

Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.

They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.

“Feel better?”

Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.

“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”

“And if you wanted, I guess…”

Peter tilts his head, expectant.

“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”

“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.

“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself.  “An animal. Like a dog or something.”

Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.

“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“

Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.

“What kind of dog?”

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Whoo boy, been a little bit. I can’t really say much besides IRL sucks, so. Back to something that doesn’t suck, which is BNHA. This chapter is dedicated to the good bean Tenya, especially his little smile which forced me to change my pfp on discord because I just couldn’t.

I was kinda planning on doing arc summaries between sections, but honestly, the BNHA wiki already has those, so if you don’t want to go back and read through all the posts I’ve done for the pre-USJ chapters, just head over there and do a skim of the summaries there, I guess?

[No. 12 - Yeah, Just Do Your Best, Iida!]

I just love how his hand gestures are actual effective tools against enemies, I cannot even. Also, a good and friendly reminder that carbonated drinks stall his engines! I have never seen that used in fanfic, whether for crack or whump purposes… a shame.

We head right into the next morning from that battle training, with the kids being held up by the media as they ask about All Might. Izuku is a bundle of nerves as he awkwardly excuses himself to the nurse’s office, Ochako is a darling who describes All Might as super muscly, and Tenya goes into a whole ass speech with a lot of fancy language to explain the honor of being at UA and learning under All Might. 

(Honestly, I find it hard to determine whether this is genuinely earnest or if he’s picked up media warding skills from his parents and older brother. It’s probably genuine, but I just love the idea behind low-key troll master Tenya who learned from the best, aka his older brother.)

Katsuki, unfortunately, is still known as ‘the kid from the sludge incident’, which I mean. I am so fucking baffled at how long the media in this have held onto that 'sludge incident' thing, like, you'd think they'd have moved on to other things by now and don't really think about it much.

It’s the same with the general public (as seen in chapter 3), like, yes, I too would have a fucking complex and anger issues if all anyone thought about in relation to me wasn't my high grades or my skill in combat or anything, but that one time a year ago where I was almost suffocated to death while the people who were supposed to save my life did fucking nothing. I mean, Katsuki has always had a complex, but This Didn't Help.

Moving on, we see the media wondering who the fuck this messy looking dude waving them off is, while Aizawa just. Fucking shoos them like they’re dogs or kids or something. His words seem like a vague attempt at being polite about shooing them, but with the hand gesture, well. Basically comes off more as a chastisement. 

...honestly, this feels so weird that no one knew about it even though the kids who got in got a message from All Might saying he’d be teaching there. The only thing I and the others can assume is that there was an NDA on him teaching until it was announced to the newspapers on the first day of classes. Which would explain why it didn’t hit the news until said day…

Whatever, it’s weird, let’s just move on.

One of the reporters steps forward, asking/demanding a chance to speak to All Might about his sudden shift to teaching, only for the guy behind her to try and call out a warning - just a touch too late, as the sensors over the gate react, causing the daunting hunk of metal serving as a gate to slam closed right in front of her. Gonna guess she’s new to the reporting scene. The guy explains that the UA barrier locks down if someone without a school ID approaches the gate, and that supposedly there are more sensors throughout the campus.

The panel gives us a diagram of the three ‘levels’ of sensors - the gate/wall around the school, the walkway to the school, and the school itself. Which I think correlates to the security levels that come up later, since it’s a ‘level three’ breach, which means the school was broken into. Was it… always that fucking simple and I just totally glossed over that detail until now? orz

While the newsfolk complain about not getting comments from UA, we get to see the back of a ~mysterious figure~ who definitely isn’t the primary antagonist of the entire series. God, you can see his individual neck vertebrae.

Horrifying.

We transition to 1a’s homeroom, with Aizawa going over the battle training as well as their grades / evaluations. Aizawa calls out Katsuki and tells him to grow up and stop wasting his talent, which Katsuki grudgingly accepts. Izuku jolts at being called out next over his broken arm, and accepts the chastisement of learning to control his quirk, because trying isn’t going to cut it. Aizawa does soften the blow, however, by repeating that Izuku has potential, assuming he overcomes that issue.

With that done, Aizawa ‘Plus Extra™’ Shouta gets the whole class tense by drawing out the next class announcement. While I think it’s a translation error, the whole class sweating as they wonder whether it’s another brutal pop quiz is hella funny. (I’m guessing it was meant to be ‘test’ which would reference to the quirk assessment as well as the battle training, but ah well.) The whole class sighs in relief as one as Aizawa finally reveals that their task for the morning is to choose a class president - a normal, school-like thing in comparison to the past two days.

Pretty much the entire class has their hands raised to volunteer for the position, with Katsuki being particularly aggressive about it (as per the norm). Even Izuku has his hand shyly lifted up from the desk, while his narration notes that the position in normal schools entails mundane tasks, but in UA’s hero course means leading the group - a position suited for a top hero in the making.

Tenya calls for them all to quiet down, drawing attention as he goes on to explain how leading people is a task of heavy responsibility, but that ambition is not equal to ability. He is so intense it’s hilarious as he explains how the office demands the trust of its constituents, and that if it’s to be a democracy, then he puts forward the motion that they choose their leader through election.

Seriously this is just so fucking hilarious, I love this boy so much. And I love whoever it is that calls out that this is a classroom, not congress. 

Tsuyu points out that the class hasn’t known each other long enough to build trust, and Kirishima notes that everyone will vote for themselves. Tenya points out that that is precisely the reason that anyone who gets multiple votes will be the best suited for the job. He then checks with Aizawa if this is allowable, which the teacher agrees to so long as it’s quick. And a quick transition, we reveal the winners-

Izuku with three votes, and Momo with two.

Everyone else, it seems, still has one vote, which was their own (as predicted). Izuku is shook. Katsuki is shaking in anger as he demands to know who the hell voted for Deku. Ochako is whistling and looking away, thinking that she’d better not let Katsuki find out.

(Also of note is that Sero is already approaching Katsuki and making a joke here about it being obvious Katsuki wasn’t one of Izuku’s votes, and then seemingly laughing a bit when Katsuki’s temper turns on him?

Hard to say for sure, but it seems Sero is the first of Katsuki’s future friend group to approach him and get away with poking at his temper. Which I feel is something very much overlooked by the fandom in favor of Kirishima for fairly obvious reasons.)

Tenya, meanwhile, is in a funk as he notes he has no votes, and that that is the harsh reality of office. Momo is concerned as she notes that zero votes meant he voted fro someone else, while Sato points out that Tenya was the one to suggest the election, so what did he seriously want? Izuku and Momo go to the front of the class - Izuku a nervous wreck while Momo’s just exasperated with the situation. Aizawa confirms their positions as he gets out of his sleeping bag, and the class talk a bout about the suitability of the chosen pair while Tenya continues to sulk in his seat.

With that, the first half of the chapter is done, so I’ll call it here. I can certainly say I learned a thing or two today, and I hope y’all did as well!

[uwua3]

hello hello would it be okay to ask for some fluffy and romantic headcanons for tenma with a childhood s/o? they were both in the entertainment industry, but s/o is now playing music in a band (like bang dream!) thank you thank you!

hi anon~ of course!!! 🥺 i never actually got into rhythm beat games because i simply Lack The Talent to play them T___T please excuse me if i say anything wrong~

summary: tenma promised he’d perform with you at your first stadium show, but will he keep his word?

warnings: unhealthy/strict parents

author’s note: i incorporated So Much Stan Twt culture in this, i swear. please look forward to fanboy! tenma and this super cliché, cute headcanon with you as tenma’s first friend/crush!!! sunshine x sunflower couple rise up ♡ this may be slightly ooc + i used poppin’ party’s sunflower dreams lyrics towards the end!!!

word count: 6,795

music: sunflower dreams – poppin’ party

sunflower dreams!

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

you were born to be on stage

tenma remembered thinking that the first time he saw you singing into that off mic, absolutely living out your idol dreams in that music room with a guitar much too big for your tiny kid self

you and tenma were about eight years old, and that was the first time he had a crush on anyone before

it was elementary. tenma was already recognized country wide, he was the it child star of the decade, his fame catapulted him to great success early on with two acting parents in the entertainment business

but, why didn’t he have friends, then?

everyone he talked to as a child suddenly didn’t look at him the next day. every time tenma asked his parents, it was always the same answer: “they’ll do nothing for your career, focus on acting”

so when he found you sneaking into the music classroom and stealing one of the teacher’s guitars to use, strumming even if you didn’t know any notes, tenma hid behind the door as he listened

you had a voice made for stardom. you sang like you were performing for a stadium of thousands of fans, you did it confidently as if you’ve been in the industry for years, and you jumped around like this was the last song of your life

you loved music, and before you knew it, tenma became your first and biggest fan. he arrived at the same time everyday after school to sit outside the music practice room and hear you sing again

eight–year–old tenma didn’t know why he lied to his parents, claiming he was just catching up on schoolwork due to his acting career. his grades didn’t change, but it didn’t matter when he got to hide in the corner of the corridor and push his short frame to the ledge of the window to see you playing the guitar

one day, tenma was back again in his usual spot, standing on his tippy–toes to peek into the classroom as always, knowing he was in for a show for the next hour or so before his driver picked him up

it was supposed to be another regular one–man concert all for himself, where he applauded silently for the aspiring musician. but, as you were singing a song you had practiced for a while now, your eyes met his mid–strum of the guitar

you stumbled on your notes and fell silent, eyes wide at the bright orange hair that disappeared behind the wall instantly. before you could react, you heard the squeak of sneakers against the floor as a blur of the school uniform ran past the door and away into the hall

you recognized that face immediately, who wouldn’t? sumeragi tenma was the most popular elementary student ever in the district despite always being alone. you contemplatively stared at the spot where tenma hid, wondering how long he had always been there.

it was the next day and tenma was hesitant, nervousness taking over as his face flushed from yesterday’s events. he was so careless, he couldn’t believe he let himself be discovered like that! tenma rubbed his face, groaning with the stress of an adult as he stood at the entrance of the music hallway

it’s not like he could go anywhere else without getting in trouble, so here he was, returning to visit the school’s secret singer because he wanted to hear the music. but, he seemed like a stalker! tenma swore he just wanted to hear guitar (he pretended like you weren’t his first crush)

before tenma could become chicken and run away from the confrontation, he heard a few familiar notes before you began singing. the recognition kicked in as tenma creeped closer, poking his head around the open door frame with a curious look as you stood dancing around in the middle of the room, already smiling at him

you were singing the ost of the latest drama he was in!

did you learn it just for him? tenma was about to ask, but you ran over, not letting him get away this time as you tossed him a fake mic (which he embarrassingly almost didn’t catch)

were you asking for a duet? your guitar skills had gotten much better over time, in fact, little tenma couldn’t tell the difference between you and the professional who originally played it! tenma felt himself get into the music as you dragged him to the center, giving him an opening to join

tenma took it, and before you two knew it, there was no need to exchange any words as you two sang your heart out without any care in the world to the pop ost

for once in his life, tenma felt like this was what it was like having a friend! he always had those on screen, but this felt real. like, these were the childhood memories he always had to act out for the camera, just yelling lyrics loudly surrounded by instruments and a friend who learned his ost just to make him happy!

out of breath, tenma panted as you played the final notes, letting it hang in the air as the incoming warm air entered through the open windows. you two’s shadows struck final idol poses, like you were actually on stage

a moment of silence passed before you grinned, yelling a celebratory “yes!” as you held your hand out for a high five. tenma just weakly put his palm against yours, trying not to blush from the contact (was this what it was like, holding your hand?)

“dude, we need to start a band!” you exclaimed, not even looking tired as tenma wiped the sweat from his forehead with a grimance. maybe not the right decision if he didn’t have the stamina to be a chart–topping singer

“i... i don’t play any instruments—” tenma started shyly, wringing his hands together before you shook your head rapidly, putting your hands on your hips with an exasperated expression

“but we’re friends!” you insisted, not giving him time to answer as you threw him another water bottle (you had brought an extra, hoping tenma would come by again)

tenma stared at you, shocked as he gripped the water bottle between his small hands. friends? already? was... was this tenma’s first real friend? and his first band, apparently?

you rearranged your items, setting up your music sheets as you quickly glanced over the notes. you could sight read, and you learned it all by yourself, you were so talented, but you wanted to be friends with him?

when you lifted your head with a bright grin, passion within your eyes for music, tenma nodded with determination as he tightened his grip on the bottle. it was his first gift from his first friend

“yeah, we’re friends! let’s do it!” tenma said, watching as you cheered again and confidently high–fiving you this time (last second, you switched your hand to a fist and called it a ‘turkey’. whatever that was)

and that, was the start of the two–man duo band as tenma made his first friend (and crush)

you two grew up together, with tenma prospering in his fame as a multitalented child prodigy

despite his hard–earned popularity as an actor, tenma was never ever late to band practice! you two came to the unlocked music room every day after school, with props as microphones and animatedly daydreaming about stage costumes and the feeling of the lights upon your glowing faces

“do you ever dream about being on stage, ten?” you’d ask, gazing out at the sunset as you fiddled around with the drumsticks, attempting to pick up the beat as your eyes flickered from the orange sky to the worn down drums. tenma would just shrug, laying on the floor after a particularly hard song as he lazily strummed your favorite guitar

(this explained the callouses on your fingers despite being so young, you had rougher hands than him)

“i don’t know, i’m already on t.v.” tenma would justify, just staring at the ceiling as he’d watch the shadows of the trees outside against the surface. these were the moments he remembered the most, where you two took a break from the music and talked endlessly until it was time to go home

“i mean, it’s all scripted, right?” you asked, satisfied as you put your sticks down after finally acing that one technique you struggled with. tenma unstrapped the guitar and rolled to his side, propping his head up with his arm as he considered your question

“yeah... i guess it is.” tenma figured, about to go back to play with the strings before you landed next to him, facing him in the same position as you smiled

you always had that smile whenever you ranted about your ‘big break’, your rise to stardom and dreams to be the #1 global singer in the world (tenma never brought you down to earth, not even for a second)

“on t.v., you can just edit it out, right? but on stage, it’s all live. if i make a mistake, everyone knows.” you furrowed your eyebrows, looking too serious for a young child as you looked past him, as if you were imagining what could go wrong

before tenma could snap you out of it, your eyes landed back on him and you giggled, flopping onto your back as you put your arms across your chest

“that’s what’s so exciting about the stage, ten. every time i go out there, i’m always gonna do my best! i’m gonna be the best performer on the whole entire planet!” you suddenly jumped up, acting out your idol persona as you faked holding a mic, striking your iconic pose you had perfected over time

(tenma just stared up at you, wondering why you shined so much in the light. he wanted to see you under stage lights, though. if you glowed this much now, you would be blinding in front of a crowd)

“and you’ll be with me!” you pointed your invisible mic at tenma as he smiled, not considering any other future as he pushed himself up with his own mic

“i’ll be on stage with you forever!” tenma guarenteed, performing your complex secret handshake as you two made explosion sounds at the end, pretending to fall back from the boom

“come on, let’s practice for when our first show comes!” you ended break time as you took your guitar back. tenma kicked back on the keyboard, not knowing a thing about it but wanting to try his best for you

as you two rocked on, tenma knew you two had were beyond any battle of the bands competition. you two were unstoppable, you two would sell out arenas and pose for the papparazzi together, you two would perform together!

or at least, that’s what tenma thought before one day, his parents came to pick him up

when his famous, high–standard, professional parents arrived to surprise him, they didn’t expect to search the building with a teacher who had no idea she was tutoring him. when they heard the loud singing, all they had to do was coldly glare at their son to make tenma quiet down and obediently follow them to the car

“sumeragi tenma, we raised you better than this. we’ve given you the perfect life, how could you lie to us?!” tenma’s mother cursed, grabbing his hair once they were out of sight of any witnesses. tenma flinched as his parents dragged him to the car, looking back to see you had ran to the entrance with wide eyes

“wait!” you insisted, catching up with his parents with a stubborn expression, holding onto tenma’s blazer sleeve and staring tenma’s father right in his strict face (tenma wished he was as brave and cool as you)

“get off, kid.” tenma’s father spat out, trying to shake you off as tenma kept his head down, attempting not to cry as he bunched his hands into fists. he pretended like this was just some scene, he had to keep his emotions in check behind a mask. he was raised to act like the best son

“no! tenma’s my friend!” you declared and tenma whipped his head up, staring at you with a sad smile as his father scoffed, prying your tight fingers off tenma’s school uniform as you stumbled back. when you hit the ground and sat up, tenma almost escaped his parents’ clutches as he called your name, being shoved into the backseat against his will

“tenma’s not friends with nobodies.” tenma’s father laughed maliciously, slamming the door closed as the family car swerved out of the parking lot

as you put your hand down from blocking the dust, you helplessly watched as tenma performed his end of the secret handshake as he faded into the distance. you stood back up, brushed down your uniform, and made your way back to the music room with tears in your eyes

you were going to be the best lead singer in the world, and tenma was going to sit front row for every show. tenma was gonna be your friend forever

(even if he mysteriously transferred schools the next day)

you began auditions to be involved in the entertainment industry as well

you wanted to be famous just like tenma, if you had become as popular and talented, maybe his parents would let you keep seeing him

entering middle school, you dedicated all your time to improving as an artist outside of your academic studies and transforming the abandoned elementary music room into your practice area

you practiced everyday until your throat was sore, you snuck into the local theatre stage and pretended like it was your concert, you tried to master every instrument that was available to you (though, you never forgot about your original guitar) just to become famous

it wasn’t until you gained your second fan, that your band took off

it was midway through middle school, after countless failed auditions for entertainment companies, that you turned and saw someone hiding in the same spot tenma claimed all those years ago. you blinked, but instead of an orange hue, you found a future bandmate who was just as enthusiastic about music as you

slowly but surely, your band became special to five students as their bond strengthened the core of your group: NATSU-mmer!

(the name flowed naturally since your group’s energetic, poppy, bright music became your image and was a happiness boost for anyone who listened)

although you guys weren’t experienced, your crazy energy and unbreakable friendship sold you to the public as your online covers and self–composed tracks became viral hits over time

you were on guitar and vocals with the support of more guitar, drums, keyboard, and tambourine! as you five practiced until the end of the day, your dedication and passion to music shined as you became famous as the lead singer of NATSU-mmer!

as years passed, you kept tabs on tenma every now and then. you would binge every show he was on, even if he had a minor background role, and couldn’t believe this was the same boy who sang proudly in the afternoon sun like it was a spotlight

tenma was older now, but he still had the same arrogant smirk he wore when he got competitive about beating other bands or who could shriek the highest note. he still had the same orange hair you noticed that one day from behind the window and he still acted like he was the best (maybe, because he was to you)

although you always answered his name when asked who your favorite actor was, you never told anyone your history with him. it felt almost too personal to say anything, when your friendship with him was still close to your heart and would always be associated with those practices after school

you respected his privacy and let him be, knowing damn well you wouldn’t have made it this far without his absence pushing you to be the best possible

(when asked about why you began singing and becoming the leader of your band, you never mentioned the truth: how you wanted to become famous to be tenma’s friend again)

although you two were both now in the entertainment industry, you never reached out to him again because it felt like acting and music was in two different worlds. as tenma dominated the billboards and popularity ratings in magazines, you strummed your guitar and sang with all your heart to your fanbase on stage

you forgot about the promise you had with tenma, until it was time

NATSU-mmer was having its first stadium show as an anniversary gift to the fans, selling out within minutes as you were processing the news. your bandmates screamed around you, jumping up and down as they loudly discussed how this was an once–in–a–lifetime opportunity

you smiled, but you had a distant look in your eyes. you were remembering tenma, even though he hadn’t crossed your mind in months, with the pressure and business of rehearsals and concerts and all that

it was nearing summer, you two were on break again after tenma’s voice cracked from a tune. you did your best not to laugh as you two sat on the desks, staring out at the sunset nearing in silence, just the sound of you two’s slightly heavy breathing from the work out

“do you think we’ll ever become big, ten?” you asked innocently, always talking about your dreams together as if tenma wasn’t a renowned actor already. tenma didn’t answer right away, resting his face against the window pane on his folded arms as he blew a strand of hair out of his face

“i don’t know, my parents want me to become a famous actor.” tenma sighed and you laughed, nudging him slightly with your elbow

“you’re already famous, ten! that’s why i call you ten, because you’re a 10/10 in every review!” you brought up again as tenma laughed with you, finding the whole situation funny for no reason

“yeah, but an even bigger actor. i’m gonna win best lead actor in every country.” tenma huffed, puffing his chest out like he was those big hotshot teen “heart–throb” actors while flexing his non–existent muscles

“and i’m gonna win every music award show trophy!” you added and tenma nodded, like he was so sure these were your fates. like nothing could change, like it was a matter of fact

“you will...” tenma trailed off, suddenly thinking about something. before you could ask, he fully turned his body towards you as he grinned, holding his pinky out

“but really, once you get that stadium, imma be front row and center!” tenma promised and you looped your finger around his, believing in him 100%

“no, you’ll be backstage! or better yet, on stage with me!” you fantasized as you two dreamily imagined it, shaking your pinkies before letting go with a secret promise you could never break

“we should spit shake.” tenma spat in his hand as you shrieked, ranting about how gross he was as he chased after you like every annoying little boy did. your laughter faded in your memory as you remembered the promise you and tenma made that day

“ten, it’s my first stadium show.” you whispered under your breath, not noticing the sunset outside the practice room

tenma sometimes wondered what would’ve happened if he ended up in a band with you. by no means was he idol material, but at night, he liked to lay down and stare at the ceiling, in the same position whenever he needed to cool down after practice

he had forgotten your name at this point, overwhelmed and exhausted from his acting career and lack of childhood that he had to skip over. from the scarce memories of his youth, all he could distinguish between the blurs was your face grinning happily at him as you jumped in the air with your guitar

(and something about how rough your hands were against his own)

all tenma knew was that he wanted to be on stage with you, and his younger self would’ve done anything to do so

tenma continued acting, forgetting all about his dream to be in a two–man band with you and kept his roles to the camera, skyrocketing into fame faster than anyone before him and staying in the limelight

in a way, both of you had accomplished your dream, just not together

tenma had joined mankai company, to the shock of every media outlet ever. the starlet had overcome his fear of making mistakes, he remembered clearly before he went onto the theatre stage for water me! the first time, a young voice echoed in his ears

“that’s what’s so exciting about the stage, ten. every time i go out there, i’m always gonna do my best! i’m gonna be the best performer on the whole entire planet!”

tenma remembered seeing your face clearly for the first time in a while, remembering every detail of your childhood self as he bunched his two hands into fists, staring at the spotlight upon the stage with the same determination he had when you two became friends

“i’m going to do my best.” tenma said and the rest was left on the stage until closing night

adjusting to mankai was a process. growing up with no true friends, both in school and in the entertainment industry, had surprisingly taken a toll on his behavior without him realizing it. to mankai, he wasn’t the famous star tenma, he was just the really not–put–together teen who wanted to take care of his bonsai in peace

so this is what having friends is like, tenma once thought as he glanced upon the entourage. it was the last time he truly remembered your friendship before he moved on, hoping one day he’d see you someday again

it wasn’t until he happened upon kazunari and misumi’s hanging out session that he was struck with memory of your name

the two were excitedly talking to one another, kazunari rapidly tapping on his phone screen and holding it up to misumi’s attentive face. tenma was about to walk away from the everyday meet–up before kazunari hyped up some group, letting a music video blast from his speaker

over the exaggerated “wow~ that’s a triangle!”, tenma stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a strong, enthusiastic voice belt out a familiar lyric. tenma jumped over to kazunari on the sofa, grabbing both his shoulders with desperation. misumi even paused the video to stare at tenma with shock

“who’s singing this?!” tenma rushed out as kazunari just grinned, finding nothing wrong with being trampled by his troupe leader

“ah! tenten~ are you interested, too?! it’s NATSU-mmer, i was thinking to ask them to sing our next play theme!” kazunari joked before misumi tugged him out of tenma’s grip. as the two went back to watching, tenma repeated the band name multiple times before running to his room and slamming the door

“what the hell do you—” yuki started, looking up from his sewing machine before tenma threw himself onto his bed, fumbling for his phone as he began typing something. tenma paused, zooming in on a group photo before dropping his phone

“THAT’S MY FRIEND!” tenma yelled, swiping through the photos as he finally recognized your name. it was you, the guitarist soloist back in elementary who was his first friend. you had done it, you actually became a full blown band leader who was rising in popularity. he was right in not questioning your dreams

yuki leaned his chair back to sneak a glance at the screen, furrowing his eyebrows as he stared at tenma with disbelief

saying your name, yuki scoffed as he crossed his arms, “the lead vocal of NATSU-mmer, one of the most popular bands in japan right now, is your friend? yeah, right.”

tenma furiously shook his head, sitting up and launching into the full story he didn’t even know he remembered about how you were his bandmate in elementary. yuki barely listened, but got the gist of the tale as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh

“you’re telling me... you grew up with NATSU-mmer’s powerhouse vocalist... and you didn’t even know?!”

tenma sheepishly kicked at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh

“maybe?”

(tenma yelped when yuki threw a pillow at his dumb face with perfect aim)

turns out, everyone in mankai had either known of NATSU-mmer or were huge fans, there was no in between. most of the high schoolers actively followed your band account across multiple platforms, gushing about your performances and how you were a fresh group that came from nothing

the university students knew an album or two, the adults mainly had an idea, and matsukawa even sang along to their songs this entire time! tenma was the last person to find out who your group even was (he was out of the loop all the time)

now that he knew, he was becoming aware of how prominent you had always been in his life. yuki took fashion inspiration from your stage outfits for the plays (they were as spectacular as he remembered imagining them), kazunari kept repeating your title tracks during breaks at practice to keep the mood up (tenma stopped telling him to turn it off), muku’s favorite anime he watched at night had an ost sang by you (tenma listened to it every night through the walls), misumi even pointed out the five people in your band formed a triangle when you all did a group photo (tenma guessed he was onto something, he noticed you were always at the center)

it was like you were still his friend, after all this time, still apart of his life despite the distance

because of this, tenma remained your biggest fan of all time. at first, he intended to follow your music casually, but after going down a rabbit hole of videos (such as interviews, streamed concerts/events, even fan–edited videos of your cute/funny moments or “meet NATSU-mmer” style of “crack edits”), tenma would consider himself a proud “sunflower”

(it was ironic that was your fanbase’s name, because he called you that after you got your first official guitar and you two painted sunflowers on the surface. in a way, he stayed in your life too, since you were both each other’s sunflower and sunshine)

tenma even made a stan twitter account for you! he made it with no intention to dm other sunflowers, but he turned on notifications for your band’s sns and replied to your posts with encouraging messages and reminders to take care of yourself

(he became known in the fandom as “ten”, the sunflower who was practically in love with you) (his icon was always you)

(tenma even bought merch with his own money. yes, he had a jersey with your birth year and last name, tenma admitted from his “early stan” days) (his home screen was a hq fansite picture of you holding a microphone towards the camera, as if you were still inviting him to sing along after all these years)

(he also somehow got roped into downloading your beat rhythm game, knowing you probably crushed all the levels as he struggled with beginner’s) (he got distracted by your voice singing in the background)

(one time, you had a live ig q&a and when you answered his question by saying his username “summerten”, he nearly fell over from excitement) (yuki had to kick him to shut tenma up with his internal freak–out)

tenma’s favorite thing to do as a stan was to watch your performances as if he was there. he had bought your group’s lightstick (a sunflower with spinning petals, how cute!), shaking it in front of his laptop screen and posting pictures with the “TT” sad emoticon

(summerten: TT just want to go to a concert so bad ~ 14 likes)

you were the same as you were before back in elementary. you still danced and sang with all the energy in the world, with uncontainable excitement to be doing what you love and your raw honest personality with your fans was admirable. you were open and the perfect idol since you were so passionate and uplifting with your self–produced/written music

you took the stage by storm, acting like it was your own and wildly playing your guitar like it was your last. you still had the same electric smile and sunny happiness, of course you had become famous for being in a band, you were born to be a star

present day, tenma was practicing his lines with the rest of the summer troupe before his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him automatically check it as summer snickered about his obsession with NATSU-mmer (only yuki really knew why as he refused to tell anybody else, just claiming it was teenage boy hormones)

tenma’s face paled and he looked like he was about to pass out. before anyone could ask, tenma sprinted out of the practice room with an urgent stride to his steps

everyone automatically followed him, yelling about how practice wasn’t over as tenma stumbled to his desk, opening his laptop with such determination it was admirable how one–minded he truly was

“why did you run like someone died?!” yuki whacked him over the head but tenma didn’t react, just logged into a ticketing website with intensity

“someone will die if i don’t get tickets to NATSU-mmer’s second anniversary stadium concert!” tenma insisted, memorizing what he was supposed to do as he sat down, biting his nails as he stared at his spot in the queue. oh god

understandably so, no one understood why tenma had to go to the concert so bad (“why doesn’t he just use his connections to get tickets?” “he really loves NATSU-mmer, huh...” “they do form a triangle!” “shut up”). yet, they resigned themselves to this predicament and let tenma end practice early, knowing pulling him away from his screen would make things way worse

sitting around him, the summer troupe kept light conversation as tenma tapped his foot against the floorboards, willing himself to stare straight ahead to react the fastest

i have to keep my promise, tenma thought as he impulsively bought five tickets without warning, all front row and didn’t wince at his bank balance

tenma promised he’d see you front row at your first stadium concert, and on god, he was going to keep it

when the troupe cheered and rambunctiously discussed tenma’s generousity to take them to the concert with him, yuki stood in the back with his arms crossed and eyes watching tenma carefully

“you hack... you still like them, don’t you?” yuki mumbled, not catching anyone’s attention. it didn’t take a genius to piece together the puzzle, he knew you were much more than just tenma’s first childhood friend, but he didn’t say anything else as tenma breathed a sigh of relief at the mercy of the ticket gods

(when tenma tweeted how he was going to the stadium show, his mutuals showered him in congratulations and your official account even liked it) (he keyboard–smashed like the fanboy he was)

while you were preparing for your opening stadium event for the first time in your professional career, tenma was planning the entire trip as best as he could

(yuki felt so bad for him and his very obvious crush that he made him a sunflower headband for the concert, it was so nice tenma almost went in for a hug before yuki smacked him)

the night of the stadium concert, you were sitting backstage dressed in your group’s common bright fun colors as you fiddled with your guitar, playing a tune you hadn’t remembered until recently. you thought of a little boy with orange hair and purple eyes as you stared off into the distance, just nonchalantly playing the song you two had wrote together back then

as you kept strumming, you imagined him sitting front row, cheering you on

(maybe, you shouldn’t have stalked his official sns accounts before going to sleep last night)

you knew it was last second. but for some reason, even if he never heard it, you had to honor your relationship with tenma

in a way, you would have never been here without his friendship, and you wanted to thank him even if he wouldn’t be there

it took a lot of convincing for your solo stage to be moved to last with no backing track whatsoever (your manager was suspicious of what you had up your sleeve, but you promised it wouldn’t hurt your group’s image), but you did it!

your group pestered you obnoxiously about the change, their sibling–esque bond with you as their “parent” making you laugh as you played it off like it was no big deal.

(as you opened a guitar case you hadn’t brought along in a long time, you smiled down at the worn sunflower–painted guitar)

this was your first stadium show and you could only dream of tenma being right beside you

summer troupe arrived at the stadium hours early, but there was already a long line with campers filling the streets (“why are people sleeping outside just to see some cute people?!” “stan culture, man...”)

tenma was excited in line, not even bothered by the length of the wait as he rambled about your group discography to the boys, subconsciously waving around his sign as he pushed up his sunglasses

(how no one recognized his bright orange hair was beyond anyone’s common sense)

when the group made it past security with a few mishaps (muku making himself look like he was highly suspicious by stuttering and kazunari having to come in to save the day with his social media presence) (misumi almost stripping down for no apparent reason) (yuki actually walked like a normal person with nothing to hide), tenma practically ran to his seat like he was a child again

“everyone say NATSU!” kazunari held his phone up for a group selfie, the five making a triangle as he posted it to his story, tagging it with the group hashtag and the location as always

your band member was scrolling through the hashtag with the group account, showing everyone fan pictures and providing over–the–top commentary, as you all sat in a circle waiting for the show to begin

“oh~ it’s that kazu guy! he usually posts stories with our songs!” your band member said, swiping to their most recent story and your eyes widened

was that a shock of orange hair?

you couldn’t have missed it. that had to be tenma, no other fan would just show up with sunglasses front row like he promised before

did he remember you? before you could react, everyone moved onto the next fan and complimented them endlessly, your mind still stuck on that orange hair

it couldn’t have been... but yet, you smiled

at least you could imagine singing to someone for your stage at the end

when the concert began with a strum of your guitar, tenma let out the most excited scream of all time as his voice was drowned out by the rest of the fans. summer troupe side–eyed him but ignored his frantic lightstick waving as they watched the five members of NATSU–mmer rise from the stage in their iconic poses (yours was the same from childhood)

“who’s ready to start this summer off right?!” you shouted into your mic, your voice vibrating the open stadium as the fans cheered in response. tenma was quiet this time, staring up at you with such admiration yuki had to shove him out of it (“don’t be so dumb right now, enjoy the show!” “shut up, i wasn’t staring!” “i didn’t say you were...”)

you guys opened with your debut song, going back to your humble beginnings in the elementary practice room as everyone danced the night away. everyone online was right; streams could never compare to the real thing. tenma didn’t care about being “cool” for once as he jumped up and down

(kazunari definitely got multiple videos of him singing every song word for word at the top of his lungs like his life depended on it) (there’s also a video of him crying to an emotional ballad song, just full sobbing as muku awkwardly patted his back while worriedly glancing at the camera)

(“it’s so sad...” tenma sniffled as yuki practically shoved his own hands into his mouth, trying not to laugh for once)

the event passed in a flash, your stamina crazy high as you didn’t even seem tired. you looked more alive than ever, especially when you began giving your final speech of the night as NATSU-mmer’s leader

“hi, sunflowers!” you giggled, the fans awww–ing in unison and tenma was staring at you like you were the sun. he was right, you were so bright under the spotlight, it was blinding

“thank you so much for coming to our first stadium show.” you bowed and tenma noticed your hand was shaking around the mic. he was worried, were you okay?

“actually, this is very special to me, not because it’s a stadium, but because you’re all here to share it with me~” you cutely said, laughing when everyone cooed. you kept going, all the attention on you as the background musicians began filing out backstage. murmurs filled the stadium, what was going on?

“but also... i made a promise back then, to my very first fan, band mate, and dear friend of mine, someone i’ll call sunshine for now.” you said and yuki’s head snapped to tenma, who was looking at you with a small smile

“he said he’d be front row when i had my stadium show, and...” you trailed off, turning to the summer’s troupe location as the group members excluding yuki and tenma excitedly talked amongst themselves (“oh my god, does NATSU-mmer recognize us?! let’s invite them to our opening night next month!”)

“he is.” you finished, smiling as the tears you kept in glistened under the light. tenma roughly wiped under his eyes, hoping no one noticed as he made eye contact with you for the first time in years

“this is for sunshine, the first song we ever wrote, called sunflower dreams.”

you stepped up and placed the mic on the stand decorated with vines and yellow petals, swinging your guitar around to the front as tenma recognized its sunflower pattern. he knew both your names was signed behind it

“hide all the feelings in your heart, someday the season will go on and change.” you sang, the whole stadium silent with the single spotlight on you. you stood center, like it was the elementary music room again

tenma held his breath, trying not to sing along to avoid the confused looks of his friends. he knew every word, even though it was unreleased. you two worked on the song so hard, it became the only song you two finished to completion

“as i looked at the sky, it was a faraway dream,” you opened your eyes and looked directly at him, like he was still the same shy kid who hid behind the wall just to hear you sing. for a moment, tenma went back to that time like it was just you two again

“we’ll reach that sky someday.” you smiled before you heard your own voice, remembering something about the promise: “no, you’ll be backstage! or better yet, on stage with me!”

without thinking, you quickly grabbed a microphone left on stage and turned it on, tossing it to tenma who didn’t drop it this time

sunmer troupe exchanged wild glances between each other as you went to their side of the stage, holding your hand out with a shaky smile

“you know the rest, right, ten?” you asked, afraid to move back before tenma nodded, not caring about hiding his identity as security let him through

although there were tens of thousands of people, tenma took your hand and felt like you two were back in school together, just practicing like always

(your hand was smoother, but you still had the same callouses from playing guitar)

you started strumming again and it didn’t take any effort before you two bounced off each other like before, singing sunflower dreams like it was just yesterday as fans made the connection sumeragi tenma was on stage

(“oh my god, tenten!!!” kazunari shrieked, recording despite his full phone storage. muku was sparkling, dreamily calling it a manga moment as misumi said something about you being one of tenma’s three happinesses. yuki just smiled, he knew it)

when you two ended the song with your (not so) secret handshake like no time has passed, you and tenma grinned as you two immediately hugged on stage

“ten, i knew you’d remember.” you whispered, and tenma just smiled even bigger as he ignored the crowd’s volume

“i knew you’d become a famous singer and win every single music award. you were born for the stage.” tenma said, and you were blinding under the spotlight

you two accomplished your dream for your childhood selves this time: performing on stage together

[realityphantoms-stalker]

Warm - Douma x Reader Oneshot

—

"Okay, there's no denying it. I fucking love Douma." I thought while looking at the blonde sitting in front of me.

It's been six months since I first laid my eyes on this gorgeous man, and my feelings have only grown stronger the more we interact. "But it's frustrating because literally, everyone knows he's a player." I frowned.

"Meh, a girl can dream right?" I snapped out of my thoughts as the teacher called on me. "Miss L/N, would you mind sharing as to why you're so distracted?" I rolled my eyes and stayed quiet. "Hm. Now then, answer this question." The female teacher pointed at an equation on the board.

"The answer is x8," I said nonchalantly. "Correct." Then the class went on as usual. Soon enough the bell rang, signaling it was time to go home. "Miss L/N please stay after class I need to speak with you." I groaned internally at her words. I just wanted to go home.

"Okay." I answered, simply. I swung my bag over my shoulder and walked up to the teacher's desk. Everyone had already left for the busses, so it was just me and the teacher. Or so I thought.

All of a sudden I felt someone swing their arm around my shoulders. I jumped in surprise from the sudden contact. "Heyyy Y/N-chan! You're staying after school too? Is it detention?" I heard a familiar voice say. I whipped my head around and came face to face with Douma.

"O-Oh no the teacher asked me to stay," I replied, stepping back a bit to create a distance between me and the handsome man. "Oh really? Same here!" He clasped his hands together.

The teacher cleared her throat and we both turned our attention to her. "I see you've met..." she started, "now then, the reason I asked both of you to stay after school is that Y/N, I want you to tutor Douma." My eyes widened in surprise. Douma made a pouty face in response. "Ehhh?? I thought I was making good grades!" He whined.

"Douma, you have a 40 in this class." The teacher facepalmed. I decided to stay quiet and see how this played out, because, well, I'm not against spending time with Douma anyway. "Oh, well then I guess me and you are study buddies now!" He faced me and grinned. "My house at six." He winked. With that, he ran out the door. "W-Wait! The teacher isn't done—" I sighed.

I faced the teacher and gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry.. is there anything else you need?" I bowed. "No that is all... but do you even know where Douma's house is?" She asked. I deadpanned.

"N-No.." She snickered and wrote something down on a yellow sticky note. "Here's his number, call him and ask him yourself." She handed me a sticky note. "And before you ask, I have his number because it's written on his student ID form." I nodded in response. "Thank you!" After waving goodbye, I made my way to my car and left.

When I arrived home I threw my bag on the couch, and quickly pulled my phone out of my skirt pocket. Taking out the sticky note from earlier, I put in Douma's number and sent him a message.

————————————

Y/N

...dude you didn't even

tell me where you live

(this is Y/N btw)

Douma

Ohhh my bad! Just

come to house XXXX,

Kimetsu street 💕

Y/N

ok thx  😻✨

Douma

Wait how did you get

my number

Y/N

teacher gave it to me

im not a creep I

swear 🙄✋

Douma

Lmao okay see you at six

Y/N

cya

————————————

I put my phone down and checked the time. It was 4:30 pm so I had time before I needed to drive over there. I decided to go pick out clothes since, well, I want to look nice in front of my long-time crush. Although this is supposed to be casual, I wanted him to look at me and think I'm beautiful. It can't be helped, this man is my addiction.

I opened up my closet and picked out a f/c blouse and a flowy red skirt. I removed my school uniform but kept my black, thigh-high tights on. After replacing my school clothes with the outfit I picked out, I walked over to my vanity.

"Hmm... what hairstyle should I do?" I thought to myself. I decided on doing a high ponytail and leaving my front strands out to frame my face. When I finished doing my hair I took a good look at myself in the mirror. My blouse was neatly tucked into my high-waisted skirt and my tights were hidden securely underneath my skirt.

My outfit was casual but nice at the same time. I smiled, happy with how I looked. "Maybe I should wear my earrings." I debated whether or not I want to put them on. "Eh, why not." I grabbed my moon-shaped earrings and put them on my ears.

"There we go." I said out loud. I checked the time to see an hour has passed. "Ehhh?? I took that long?" I thought confusedly. I grabbed my bag, since it has notes I could use to help Douma, and ran out the door.

I hopped in my car and put Douma's address into its GPS system. On the way there I found myself freaking out. I mean, I'm literally going to my crush's fucking house right now! How could I not freak out? "I'm so excited yet at the same time so nervous."

"I really hope I don't end up annoying him..." I was worried he'd not like me and I'd ruin my chances with him. "Well I shouldn't dwell on it, it's not like this is a date or anything, it's just tutoring."

The GPS said I was here so I pulled over to the side and parked. I found myself in front of a large apartment building and sweatdropped. "I hope he doesn't have roommates... seeing as he lives in an apartment."

I texted him that I was here, then took my bag and got out of the car, locking it to make sure it doesn't get stolen. "Wait... what room number is he?"  I deadpanned. "This man really doesn't know how to tell someone the information they need."

I was about to text him again to ask what his room number was when someone called my name. I turned around and saw Douma running up to me. "Y/N! Y/N! you're finally here let's go!" He took my hand and dragged me inside.

I blushed from the contact. "U-um..." I stuttered out. "So, before we go up I do have a roommate, his name is Akaza and he's a bully." He rolled his eyes. "But don't worry he's out with his girlfriend, Koyuki, so we'll have the apartment to ourselves." He stopped in front of a door and quickly pushed me inside.

"Here we are! Make yourself at home." He walked over to a couch and plopped down on it. I sat down next to him a good distance away and opened up my bag, getting some notes and papers for math.

"So... what are you struggling with in math?" I asked. He shrugged in return. "I honestly don't know, I thought I was doing good in everything but I guess not." I sweatdropped at his answer. "Ah.. okay well if you don't know what you need help on then I really don't know how to tutor you..." I scratched the back of my head.

"Then let's do something else instead of studying!" Douma suggested. "Eh? Like what?" I tilted my head as I asked. Douma's cheeks were tinted with pink after my reaction. "What about... hide and seek tag!" He clasped his hands together.

I deadpanned. "Isn't that a game for kids..?" He chuckled at me. "You're never too old for anything! I'll be it first okay? Go hide nothing's off-limits." I nodded and ran out of the living room as he counted. I opened the first door down the hall and found myself in what seemed to be the master bedroom.

"Ahh... where to hide..." I looked around and saw the nightstand had a cabinet that could fit my petite form. I crawled in the cabinet just as I heard Douma yell. "Time's up! I'm coming Y/N!" After he said that it was eerily quiet. "It's like a fucking horror movie." I thought.

Suddenly I heard the door creek open and I held my breath. "Y/N~ are you in here?" He said, dragging out your name for effect. My heart was pounding in suspense as I heard his footsteps come closer. "Under the bed?" He stopped in front of the nightstand and presumably check under the bed. "Guess not... what about the cabinet in the nightstand?"

As soon as I heard that I bolted out of the cabinet and dodged his attempt to tag me. "I knew it! You're done for now." He laughed as he chased after me. "Nooo! Get away." I laughed along. I looked behind me as I ran down the hall and saw him getting closer.

"Hey! Y/N watch out!" I heard him yell as his eyes widened. I looked back in front of me and ran headfirst into a door. "Oww..." I fell back on my butt and felt tears well up in my eyes. "That hurts like a bitch." I clutched my forehead in pain.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" Douma crouched down next to me and looked at me in worry. "Yeah, I'm fine, it just hurts and I feel dizzy." I responded. "Here I'll go get you some ice." He got up and hurried to the kitchen. I heard the fridge door open and Douma muttering to himself.

He came back with an ice pack in hand and held it to my forehead. I blushed from the close proximity and quietly thanked him. He smiled at my shyness and helped me up. "Do you want to stay the night? It's late and I let you get hurt so it's the least I can do." He asked. "U-Um if you don't mind..." I didn't really want to drive home at night, it gave me chills just thinking about it.

"It's fine! You can take the guest bedroom." He gently pulled me along to a room and opened the door. "Here it is, if you need anything you can find me in the living room most likely." He handed me the ice pack and smiled. "Thank you for your help." I bowed. "Ah, it's nothing." He waved it off.

I felt my dizziness get stronger and I held my head and squinted. "You okay?" He asked, tilting his head. "Y-Yeah I'm just really dizzy." I answered. My knees buckled and I lost my footing. Thankfully Douma was there to catch me. "Oh my, I really hope you don't have a concussion or something." I was suddenly too tired to respond.

He picked me up bridal style and sat me down on the bed. "Stay here I'll try to find some medicine for your dizziness." He left the room. Although my mind felt like it was on anesthesia, I was still able to freak out about the fact Douma carried me like that. Through my drowsy state, I silently fangirled. "I'm back." He handed me a glass of water and a small pill. "It'll help you, take it." He smiled at me.

"Thank you." I whispered, before taking the pill. Building up my courage, I grabbed the hem of his shirt. He looked at me, clearly confused. "U-Um.. could you stay with me until I fall asleep." I asked shyly, avoiding his gaze.

He smiled warmly and nodded. "Sure thing Y/N-chan." He sat down next to me and I plopped my head into his lap. He chuckled at my behavior. I closed my eyes as I felt him petting my head affectionately. He pulled a blanket over my petite form and continued petting my hair. "Goodnight Y/N," and under his breath, I swear I heard the words, "I love you."

Sleep captured me before I could question whether or not I heard correctly. But nevertheless, it made me feel warm.

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