#i find it difficult to express my thoughts on that matter without my words sounding entitled or self important

[under-lore]

Do you have any thoughts on darkmarxsoul's attempt at debunking Narrachara?

Little bit of story time :

I was actually online on Reddit back when this was posted, and saw it in "new" on the r/Undertale subreddit & quickly read through it just a couple hours after it was published.

Funnily enough, every single point made in that post was something that i had already addressed and disproven in UNAP a few months prior. (UNAP is an analysis project of mine regarding the UT narrator, currently 300+ pages of pure text long, still unpublished.) To be blunt, Dark's post didn't bring up any new points to the table at all as far as NarraChara theory is concerned, it was really just regurgitating older remarks from other people over the years in a more formatted way. So it was never much of a 'debunk' there anyways...

I actually remember sitting there in front of my computer for a good 5-10 minutes, wondering wether or not i should copy paste all of the relevant parts of UNAP into the comment section since well, i had already written out everything so that wouldn't take more than 20 seconds to do.

But at the time, i had just gotten done with a big UT lore related argument already, and you could clearly see from the comment section that OP was an extremely stubborn (and honestly kinda toxic ?) person. Meaning that given the sheer size of what i would be pasting, i might be signing myself into at least 10h of Reddit arguing before they'd be convinced which didn't sound very fun for me at the time.

Since at that point, i checked their profile history and saw that OP had barely just recently gotten back into Undertale a few weeks prior & that i also didn't really wanna spoil contents that were to be part of UNAP that early, i eventually figured that it wasn't worth the effort and just let it be instead. In other words, i got lazy, imagining that this person would either eventually realise the problems with their post by themself or (more likely) just lose interest in the topic altogether.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, i was wrong about that last part.

Dark later on went out to become an active, but also one of the most insulting and toxic (& often confidently-stating-openly-incorrect-things-in-a-lot-of-topics) member of the UT theorist community on not only just Reddit, but also a few other media like Twitter as well. (Although never quite reaching the toxicity level of a certain other person either.) I don't intend to be rude to Dark's nor to sound entitled here, but they are frankly just not a good theorist neither by game knowledge nor by their behavior with others and i would be being dishonest if i pretended otherwise here or just ignored the "toxic behavior" part of them altogether.

Frankly, now, i kinda regret that i didn't prevent all that from happening when i had the chance... Maybe if i hadn't gotten lazy that day and pasted a response as soon as it was posted, things could have turned out a bit different for them.

Honestly, I sort of blame myself for letting darkmarxsoul become what they are now.

But well...

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 20 ... WITH BENEFITS??

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, y/n has daddy issues for the sake of the plot

NOTES | I have no idea why this update took me so long to post I'm so sorry 😭 I don't like making chapters like this too sad (don't worry there's still gonna be some angsty chapters) but I don't want the written stuff on its own bcs that feels too espresso depresso or wtv the phrase is so this is a bit of a longer chap than usual.. anyways if ever you feel bad for y/n, don't worry you're gonna feel worse

19:21, dinner the night before

Y/n shuffles in her seat.

Jaemin greets her with a smile, and though she offers one back, that sinking feeling in her stomach doesn't seem to settle.

Suddenly now that she finds herself face to face with her once best friend, no menus in hand since they'd already given their orders, no way to avoid conversation for just a couple seconds longer, Y/n finds herself at a loss for words.

What was anyone supposed to say in this situation?

Sure a thank you would be ideal, considering Jaemin had somehow managed the impossible, but the words escaped her. Like they rested at the tip of her tongue but she lacked the drive to speak them.

It's not that y/n wasn't grateful, no, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't, in fact she didn't know what it was, what confused her so deeply that she sat there silently. Her thumbs twiddling against one another, as she stared down at the table in front of her.

There was a nagging whisper in her mind, one that cast shadows over her once clear thoughts, leaving her in that haze of uncertainty that she recognised all too well. Recently it was all she could feel around the captain.

Something about this situation in particular makes her palms sweaty and the hairs stand on her neck, every glance at Jaemin feeling like a shadow of what had once been, a reminder of how it had all been lost.

Even just sitting opposite Jaemin isn't simple.

Not at all.

It's like sitting across from a mirror that once reflected shared laughter and secrets, now distorted by fractures of lost trust and unspoken words. She supposed that was the thing about mirrors and shattering. No matter how hard you tried to glue the pieces back together, it would never quite be the same.

Perhaps that's why y/n is lousy in her attempts, grateful to Jaemin but unbothered to express it. The thought that no matter how desperately she hoped, this couldn't be restored. That there was no point in pouring energy into a friendship that would never be resolved.

"So" it's undoubtedly jaemin who breaks the silence, a soft tone to his voice, not quite as gentle as the other night but still warm "are you feeling better? like really okay?"

For a moment she wonders whether she'll break at the sound of his voice like she always had. Would she go back to that point in life where it was so easy to lie, so easy to say she was okay, so easy to pretend, in front of everyone else but never in front of him.

"I'm fine, honestly." She lies.

There's a shy sheepish smile that creeps across her lips and slightly accents her words

Jaemin hasn't seen much of her positivity be directed his way, and seeing this ignites the little hope in him that they could move on from this, from everything.

"You didn't have to work on it without me you know, it was just as much my project as it was yours and you putting in all the effort isn't fair on you."

"You did most of the preliminary stuff anyways, and I really didn't want to ask you because of the other night" Jaemin finally admits, though not willingly, his words extracted more so by her sharp stare and the cold atmosphere.

"Right..." Her attempts at changing the subject, clearly in vain— he really needed to stop asking about the other night. Y/n wasn't sure how much h longer she could hold back the tears, the looming feeling of inadequacy as a guardian still strong. She should have been more careful.

She knows its her turn to speak, opening her mouth to do so.

But again, y/n struggles.

The words play hide and seek in her mind, leaving her to grasp at empty. The atmosphere grows heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Her mind races, a jumble of what to say, thoughts of how easy conversation once was, how effortless it had been, all such a stark contrast to now.

Jaemin watches, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes as she contemplates in front of him, quiet but with an expression that spoke volumes.

The silence between them seems to bite louder than any conversation they once held, each dish in front, a reminder of the bitter aftertaste of a friendship turned cold.

"It's just Minjun and I" she breathes out, voice shaky, and Jaemin realises that those nervous cues in her slumped posture and shaking hands had never changed "It's just been the two of us for a while" she whispered. "That's why I was so scared"

Jaemin's hand hovers uncertainly beneath the table, unsure if the gesture would be welcomed or misunderstood, caught in the delicate balance of care and concern.

Admittedly, Jaemin catches himself slightly intrigued, still confused what could have lead to her practically perfectly family turning into this.

But he knows better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.

He wants to stop her, tell her that whatever it is that causes her brows to knit together and her pretty eyes to gloss over isn't something she needs to force herself to talk about, but he doesn't know how.

For a moment he's kicking himself under the table— how had he ever let go of the person who meant so much to him?

Even now, knowing everything she had done, he couldnt help but question why hadn't he tried to get past it then?

At the sight of her downcast features suddenly everything that he once despised her for seemed so trivial.

Jaemin sees himself, a younger, less mature version that stands on the court, hair matted to his forehead from the rain, a ball long forgotten somewhere behind him, cold, betrayed, and so painfully alone. Those burning tear stained cheeks, the harsh whistles of wind, the bitter feeling of failure still clinging to his skin, he remembers it all.

But every feeling he recalls so well, so vividly, is so easily dismissed when her eyes shine with a painful tint, red from the piercing tears that she holds in them.

"My dad" she cuts him off, gaze now avoidant as he grabbed her cold hands in his, "he walked out on us not long after ...whatever hapenned between you and me. He never came back, didn't answer a single call, not even a text, no form of communication except the papers he sent in the mail so I could become Junnie's legal guardian."

I missed you, she wanted to say. I needed you she'd liked to add.

"That's why it's just the two of us now" she said instead, trying to find more words to stop the tears from flowing, like her words were the only thing that could hold them back.

Back then, Y/n remembers vividly the feeling of wanting to fall, to sink, to drown but still somehow keeping her head above the surface to hold on and stay strong for her younger brother. She wondered if Jaemin had been there, would it have been easier? Would she have let herself fall, would she have someone to give her a hand, to pick her back up again and hold her hand through it all? Would things have ended differently?

"I'm sorry" his words weren't new, they weren't special, they were the same as what everybody else would say but the fact that they came from him, Na Jaemin who now stood by her side with his arms wrapped around her, was enough to dissolve the feeling of emptiness.

08:25 present time

Y/n looks over at Minjun, still deep in slumber, smiling before she steps out of the room.

There's way too many toys sprawled out across the living room floor, a blanket she finds herself folding as she subconsciously begins to clean up. Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, wondering what to make for breakfast. She was never particularly good at cooking, but she'd been learning for her brothers sake.

When she gets to the black jacket resting over the couch, it hits her. She catches sight of her puffy eyes in the mirror, and a hand runs through her hair hurriedly.

"Why the fuck did I tell him all of that" she let's out a frustrated sigh, running her hands across her face, "I'm supposed to hate him" she reminds herself, though her tone isn't convincing in the slightest.

"You don't hate him though" Heeseung's voice comes out muffled, the toothbrush between his lips making it difficult to understand his words.

He had been the one to stay over last night, her friends still taking turns to accompany Minjun and her every night since he'd walked out of the apartment, a gesture that made her heart swell. Although up until now she was pretty certain he was still asleep. Clearly not.

"I can't hate him" she sighs, falling back into the couch "is it bad I want to be friends with him again?" she asks, even though Heeseung had retreated to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

Regardless he pokes his head out into the hallway, a sly smirk across his lips "with benefits?"

Y/n rolls her eyes.

He emerges again not long after, smiling from ear to ear "no y/n it's not bad if you want to be friends again" he takes a seat beside her "you can only fight your feelings for so long, let yourself be vulnerable, take the risk and try again" he says, hands resting on both his knees.

"and if you're feeling really risky, you can always—"

"shut up Heeseung" she smiles, lightly pushing against his arm "I guess it is worth a shot though"

"he's right next door anyways so sneaking around won't be hard at all"

"I meant being friends. Just friends." she stands up, walking over to the kitchen "you down for pancakes?"

He nods.

"You know it could be good though, he's hot, you're hot, there's enough tension to make things interesting and it ticks your not ready for a relationship box pretty well too"

Despite the pointed look the captain offers him, Heeseung doesn't let up, and secretly, she wouldn't have it any other way.

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[tojiscrack]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃

summary: 7k words — while you’re struggling with the difficult pre-calculus questions, megumi ends up finding out information he wasn’t actively searching for.

notes: woah, sumaya released a chapter a week after the last one and not months later? 😱 what caused this? 🫣 @reinaswrld (aka my wife) got a promotion at her job! 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN!!! this chapter is dedicated to you and your success, well done <33 ik it’s not much — one of the shortest chapters so far in the story — but it’s building up a bit of plot, i hope you still enjoy it all the same ❤️‼️

tw: a lot of swearing from a very angry man (you’ll see), gossiping, that’s it tbh :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n, her parents, and other oc’s mentioned in the story. the rest belong to gege akutami.

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom was organised with a focused, minimalist setup, with rows of sturdy tables that filled most of the space, each paired with two hard-backed chairs that left barely enough room for you to move around without bumping into someone else's desk. you stared up at the whiteboard which took up much of the wall, its surface freshly wiped but faintly marked with smudges from the writing by your favourite teacher in the world — kento nanami��— who had made you sit at the front for the sole purpose of doing a one-to-one session on the easier questions that you still somehow struggled with.

a projector hung from the ceiling above, casting crisp, blue-tinted notes and problem sets onto the board. his desk was positioned directly beside the whiteboard, immaculately organised, with a stack of ungraded worksheets, a coffee cup, and a single pen resting beside his computer. you thought satoru could use some tips on how to keep his work space as clean as kento's; you knew he wouldn't listen.

around the room, colourful display boards brightened up the neutral walls, each one crowded with pre-calc formulas, visual aids, and student projects — some crumpled from years of use, others meticulously laminated. none of them were of use to you, not when you found yourself stuck on something as simple as functions and transformations.

"try again," kento — or mr nanami, as he constantly demanded you refer to him as — patiently guided you, sliding a fresh worksheet with extra space for you to do your working out on. the previous one you'd been given had been a complete mess of scribbles, doodles, and working out that made no sense whatsoever.

you spun the pencil through your fingers in a dramatic manner, eyes squinted as you addressed the complicated questions on the sheet.

and gave up the second you saw the graphs.

"i'm failing this class," you decided with a sigh.

kento — mr nanami — shook his head at you, his lips in a straight line as he tapped the sheet.

"you haven't even given it a go," he stated sternly, his cheeks hollowing as he stared down at you. "remember what we went through."

"i already forgot," you admitted, abashed.

kento nanami's gaze was a perfect balance of sternness and patience as he looked down at you, his expression unwavering; his eyes were sharp, fixed intently on you with a hint of exasperation glinting beneath his otherwise calm exterior. it did not look as though he was going to let you give up that easily, no matter how deep your sighs of defeat ran. he tapped the sheet again, and despite it sounding like a couple knocks on the table, it really was a beat that spoke in strong tunes, one that said you're going to try again, whether you like it or not,

so you picked up your pencil, frowning at the size of the eraser attached to its rear end (knowing all too well that it was not going to be enough to keep your paper from becoming a mess of lead by the end of the lesson) and got to work, reading the question, and then re-reading it, trying your hardest to understand it down to a t.

kento had left you to tackle the problems alone as he moved across the room, pausing by other students' desks to offer guidance.

...and then returned to find that your paper was now full of doodles and scribbles. he furrowed his brows and let out a sigh, rubbing his straight brows from where they began, to where they angled downwards, the lines on his forehead more prominent as he tensed.

"i tried," you said, looking sullen.

"i can see that," he replied, and it wasn't just the mess of lead he was talking about; he could see the parts of the paper where you had made an attempt at answering the question, only to give up and then fail miserably.

he leaned against his own desk, peering down at you through his circular glasses. they looked odd to you, specifically the way they stuck onto the skin around his eyes like that. it was almost as peculiar as that weird, spotted tie he always wore.

"how often do you study at home?" he asked you, and the tone of his voice, serious, made you suck in your stomach, an unsettling feeling resting in your tummy.

"every friday," you lied. it wasn't as though he'd know you didn't.

only, he somehow had.

"i know you and your family spend fridays at gojo's," he told you, his brows furrowed.

you paused.

thought of your answer.

and then reconsidered it just in case there were any loopholes he could find.

"yeah," you agreed, nodding, "but i study there too. before dinner."

"no she doesn't."

megumi had approached kento with his notebook and worksheet in hand, his handwriting neat, each letter and number placed with a precision that seemed almost methodical.

you scowled at him as he looked straight at your teacher, barely even regarding you with a simple glance, apparently unbothered by your reaction.

"can you grade my questions?" he asked, only looking down and meeting your gaze with a glare when you kicked him from where you sat.

"you're being rude," you snapped, watching him shake the foot you had kicked.

he looked down at his foot, then at you, then back at his foot, as kento took the notebook out of his hands. "you literally just kicked me," he stated with a deep lour.

"yeah, 'cause you interrupted me when i was talking to kento," you shot back, brows furrowed.

"you mean when you were lying to him," megumi corrected you, an accusatory brow raised.

your cheeks warmed as you averted your gaze, barely managing to suppress a scowl. you crossed your arms, focusing on the scribbled doodles and half-erased notes on your worksheet, ignoring megumi's pointed look as you tapped your pencil against the paper in a futile attempt to appear unaffected, but the stubborn heat on your face betrayed your feigned composure.

"check that last question," said kento, handing megumi his notebook back and pointing at something on his page with the end of his red pen. "otherwise, well done megumi."

megumi nodded, muttering a quiet thanks before sitting back in his seat that was somewhere behind you; you didn't bother checking where after his attitude.

"you," kento began, brows furrowed at you, "need a tutor."

you would have beamed at the idea, if not for already being in a particularly sour mood after megumi's comment. still, you vouched for yourself, even though it meant pushing aside your stubborn pride.

"megumi, he said you have to tutor me," you said, turning around to speak to him — he had been sitting on a table with yuji on his left and nobara on his right. you found yourself seething with envy that you were so unbelievably terrible at math, your friends got to squish themselves on a table for two without you.

"i didn't say that," kento added dismissively. "i said you needed a tutor, not that it'd be megumi."

at that, the both of you peered back up at him, dumbfounded.

"i've done it before," your friend informed your teacher, his brows raised expectantly. "she takes forever, but —"

you narrowed your eyes at him. "was that really necessary?"

kento shook his head regardless.

you frowned, looking back at megumi, and you could have sworn you'd seen his shoulders deflate slightly too, but your teacher remained firm, regarding you with tight lips and furrowed brows.

"you get distracted very easily," he told you, his hands resting in the pockets of his formal pants. he nodded in the direction of where your friends were sitting without you. "specifically with megumi."

"megumi and i work very well together, actually," you corrected, unaware of yuji shaking his head in disagreement behind you. he'd stopped when you turned to see where kento's eyes had slowly drifted, suspicious. "even though he's really rude when he teaches me —"

"— i'm not rude —"

"— and super judgemental when i get something wrong," you continued over him; he was most likely glaring at the back of your head, you didn't need to see him to know that, "i still learn a lot."

"while that might be true, something always happens to go wrong when the two of you work together," said kento, and even though he was gentle with his approach on this topic, it still felt like a harsh kick to the stomach. "you aren't sensible."

"i'm sensible," megumi openly disagreed.

you did not appreciate his obvious jab at you. "wha— so am i!"

and to your dismay, yuji had intervened. "no you're not!" he jumped in, expression fierce as he pointed at you accusingly. "you told mr haibara my art work was made out of a toilet accident!"

"well it looked like a toilet accident," you shot back, your face relaxed, eyes half-lidded.

"he asked for her opinion," said nobara — your sweet nobara — coming to your defence without a second thought. she leaned over megumi to speak to yuji directly. "what did you expect her to do, ignore him?"

"if she's capable of saying my art piece looks like a pile of shit smeared on some paper, she's capable of ignoring someone!"

it was kento's slight groan that had the four of you looking up at him, and when you did, you'd been met with the sight of him pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses lifted by his fingers as he let out an exasperated sigh. kento did not enjoy it when the four of you would argue: he said it distracted the class despite your peers having discussions, jokes, and even arguments amongst themselves, unaware of the little spats you'd have with each other.

"enough," he voiced coolly, before regarding both you and megumi with a look of finality. "you have proven my exact point."

"i wasn't even—" megumi began, but you cut through him straight away. it wasn't like he was going to vouch for anyone but himself anyway, the selfish bastard.

"we're not like this at home," you argued passionately, brows raised in a desperate attempt to get kento to consider your situation, even if it meant dealing with a very judgemental megumi, who was never gentle when teaching you.

it seemed that your statement had only strengthened kento's decision to assign you a tutor who wasn't megumi, for his brows had drawn into a firm line, his gaze much harsher as he stared you with what seemed like a mix of finality and resolve.

"i saw the two of you at gojo's birthday last year," he'd said calmly. "the piñata was meant for him, not you."

ah.

kento was talking about the incident where you had 'hijacked' (as satoru had eloquently put it) his birthday piñata. you scoffed — he lived to tell the tale, with that goofy look on his face that was apparently meant to make you sympathise with him, but lived nonetheless.

it wasn't as though anybody was harmed in the process.

kento adjusted his glasses and regarded you with narrowed eyes. "it was also meant to be beaten open with a weapon, y/n. not megumi's head."

"arguably, his crazy hair is a danger to us all, and therefore a weapon of mass destruction," you stated, and found yourself internally pleased when you heard both yuji's and nobara's quiet snickering. "the piñata would agree."

you heard yuji and nobara's chuckles sputter into startled groans, abruptly cut off by a telltale thunk that had megumi written all over it. you couldn't help a sly chuckle as you glanced their way, where the pair nursed their sore heads with matching looks of betrayal, nobara muttering something that sounded a lot like a threat on megumi's life.

he, of course, remained unfazed, still glaring at you, looking about as done as kento had seemed, and sensing his icy gaze narrow further, you quickly schooled your face into a mask of innocent defiance.

"i'm not tutoring you," megumi replied bluntly, and you barely had the time to process that and groan before kento had intervened again.

"that settles it," he said, no longer leaning on his desk and now holding a finger up in a silent motion of 'no more' when your lips had parted to speak. "i will search for someone who i think will be best to tutor you —"

"but megumi —"

"— and is willing to do so too," he said, before picking up a folder, searching through it, and handing you a new worksheet with a different set of questions. "have a go at these before i come back, y/n."

he had left to go and approach other students, moving briskly towards those with raised hands, leaving you with only the fresh worksheet in your own hand, and a sigh caught somewhere between your frustration and reluctant determination.

you only hoped your tutor would be someone you could get along with.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

yuji and megumi walked side by side down the bustling hallway, their steps quick as they wove through clusters of students lingering between classes.

yuji had animatedly recounted an outrageous tale about how choso and todo had finally met, and how it had gone terribly wrong in only a matter of seconds. megumi was silent throughout the story, his mind wandering elsewhere, but he still managed to pay attention and had got the general gist of the story. in fact, megumi was certain that he could summarise it all in one simple sentence, something that yuji had failed to do: yuji's brothers did not like each other and were essentially fighting over him.

yuji squinted his eyes as sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, casting warm beams across their path as they neared the business classroom. megumi raised his arm to shield himself, blinking off the colourful spots in his vision.

"when did all that happen?" he asked, a crease between his brows from the frown he'd been holding up.

"after practice last week tuesday," said yuji, casually, "when i tried catching the early bus, remember?"

"i thought you got the early bus," megumi replied, the two of them taking a right where they'd find their classroom. they'd been stalling for a bit, walking round in circles in different areas of the school, but it was nearly time before the bell rang.

yuji nodded. "i did, but todo insisted on dropping me off. i said no, but — you know him, he doesn't take no for an answer."

megumi knew that quite well. when he first met todo and he'd demanded megumi to tell him his type, no matter how many times he'd refused to, todo remained persistent.

it was annoying.

"and then they met — and then everything was just —"

when the pink-haired boy had stopped speaking so abruptly, megumi glanced over at him.

yuji's gaze drifted into the distance, his eyes widening slightly as he seemed to lose track of his story mid-sentence. megumi furrowed his brows at him, watching his mouth hang open for a beat, the usual spark in his expression dimming as he focused intently on something across the hall. slightly confused, megumi turned to follow yuji's line of sight, the silence between them suddenly weighted, and megumi could only lour at what he'd seen.

"hey," yuji began, voice distant, "isn't that tsumiki?"

across the hallway, kamo stood beside tsumiki, his posture formal yet oddly relaxed, hands resting in his pockets with a quiet attentiveness. tsumiki, in turn, seemed engaged, her expression open and bright, using light hand gestures and motions that she usually did when explaining something.

megumi had seen the same thing in different areas of the school: during study hall, he'd seen tsumiki wave kamo goodbye, just before lunch had ended, he'd seen kamo walking her to her english class, and for the nth time that day, he was watching them interact, watching as tsumiki listened attentively, nodding along with something he was saying.

what the hell was going on? since when did kamo and tsumiki talking to each other become so frequent? was that ever a thing to begin with? megumi couldn't comprehend any of what he was seeing.

but he couldn't blame himself for his lack of understanding here, for everything that had happened in the past week regarding kamo had been odd, especially since that conversation his teammates had had in the locker rooms before practice.

and with a more relaxed, loose expression, megumi realised what that meant; how had this not been the first thought in his mind?

tsumiki was someone that both megumi and yuji knew pretty well. he'd completely ruled out the possibility that kamo would find interest in someone older despite majority of his teammates doing exactly that — they liked older girls.

he just did not believe that any one of them would be interested in his sister.

"yeah," megumi nodded, biting his inner cheek to avoid the natural scowl that he knew was trying to make an appearance. "it is."

"why's she talking to —"

"i don't know," said megumi, now wanting more than ever to enter class early, if only to get rid of the disgusting sight before him. he wished he could also say that he did not care, but he was curious, and he wanted to know what was actually happening between them. "let's go."

"oh, she saw us!" said yuji, raising a hand to wave. "she's saying hi!"

megumi didn't look to see whether this was true or not, but he didn't doubt it, only choosing to ignore his sister entirely and go to his class, half annoyed when he realised that kamo would follow behind him soon since they shared the same one.

"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" yuji repeated, sounding taken aback by megumi and his cold response of ignoring her entirely.

megumi stepped into the classroom, his expression tight and shoulders tense as he made his way towards his usual seat at the back. the lively hum of conversation around him felt distant, each sound fading as he focused on shaking off the odd irritation from the hallway, and not even a moment later, yuji had trailed behind him, loudly questioning why megumi was ignoring tsumiki, his voice ringing through the quiet room. his obliviousness hung in the air, adding to megumi's quiet frustration as he sank into his seat, mentally urging his friend to just sit down and stop broadcasting his every thought.

to his dismay, yuji did not stop, not even when kamo had entered the room, walking over to his seat parallel to the two.

the rest of the class went by as usual, the only difference being the constant voice at the back of megumi's mind — nagging and pressing — reminding him of what he'd seen throughout the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi stood just outside the theatre hall, his figure casting a long shadow on the tile floor as the late afternoon light filtered in through the high windows. the hallway was quiet now, only the faint sound of distant chatter echoing from a classroom down the hall, while the smell of fresh paint and worn wood from the theatre room seeped faintly into the corridor.

dressed in his football uniform, his hair still damp from practice, he idly scanned the posters pinned on the corkboard outside the door: upcoming plays, rehearsals, and auditions for the semester. there was even a picture of you from one of the plays back in sophomore year, a huge success, according to the school newsletter attached to it. he remembered that one, a re-telling of rosalind and how even through the mess your family had caused behind the scenes, you had remained professional enough to take your role as the lead and make something better of it — it was admirable, not that he'd ever tell you that.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his eyes occasionally drifting to the door as he waited, his gaze relaxed. when he heard footsteps at the other end of the corridor, light and unhurried, he turned his head, brow twitching slightly as tsumiki closed the large distance between them, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, holding a file to her chest as he swiped the damp strands of his hair away from his forehead.

she stopped just short of him, glancing down at his feet. he followed her gaze, frowning when she didn't speak.

"what?" he said, defensive.

she pointed at his socks, stained with grass. "you're gonna walk in your house with those?"

megumi shot her a look, half grimacing, half glaring. "no," he snapped, snippy. "i'm gonna take them off at the front door."

she shrugged, holding her pink folder to her chest as she leaned against the same wall he had been leaning against.

"i knew i'd find you here," she said, the fluorescent lights above softening her already-gentle features, casting a warm glow that blended with the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the nearby windows.

megumi grunted in response. it was enough to show that he acknowledged her comment. she understood that well enough.

"what do you need?" he asked her, flinching when a random cymbal crash had sounded from inside the hall. he could bet his two dogs it was because of you. "i'm not doing your stats homework again."

"no, silly," she laughed, nudging his side and relishing in the slight hiss he'd let out — yuji had tackled him hard on the field during practice, driving his weight into megumi's side and slamming him mercilessly against the grass. the impact bit deeper than he'd expected, the sharp sting lingering even an hour later. "i was gonna ask you a question."

"ok."

...

"you're not gonna ask me what it is?"

"you're the one that needs to ask the question here."

"stop acting like aunt maude, megumi," scolded tsumiki, making an attempt to pinch his side. he slapped her hand away, cross and displeased with her playful nature. "anyway," she sighed, apparently having given up on trying to tease him any further than he'd let her, "don't get mad at me when i ask this."

he looked down at her, a feeling that still felt strange. only this past summer had he finally outgrown her, and after spending most of his life looking up to meet her gaze, he still wasn't quite used to the new perspective.

he didn't like the look she was sporting. it was something in between a sensible smile and a mischievous grin.

"don't say anything to make me mad," he shot back, brows furrowed.

tsumiki held her file closer to her chest, like a mother protectively cradling her baby.

"let me say a quick prayer before i ask," she said, meeting his sharp gaze with a small frown. "what? i don't wanna get attacked when i ask."

he scowled. "i'm not gonna atta—"

but she wasn't paying attention, her eyes closed as she cupped her hands and whispered her prayers into it. megumi could have sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of 'protect me from the evil standing right next to me'. if he hadn't been taught that disrupting a prayer was a form of evil, he would have hit her twice on the head by now, but the last thing he needed to do was prove a point.

once she'd blown into her chest, she faced the wall opposite them with a smile, letting out a small breath.

"that was stupid," he muttered, unimpressed.

"didn't ask," she hummed, before clearing her throat. "are you interested in anyone?"

he was wrong — perhaps she did need that prayer after all.

megumi peered down at her, a brow raised, judging.

his usual sharp composure faltered for a moment as he processed her question. a frown twitched at the edge of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher the motive behind her sudden curiosity. this wasn't like her usual teasing — it had an edge of genuine interest that unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite place.

"what the hell?" he demanded, visibly disgusted and audibly confused.

"you're making this bigger than it needs to be," she huffed, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "it's just as simple as any other question."

"except you've never asked me that before," he retorted, glowering as she shrugged, her eyes tracing the display board, the one with your image on it.

her expression shifted to a thoughtful calm, taking in each photo and flyer pinned neatly on the cork surface, her fingers tapping lightly against the folder she held, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

megumi didn't understand what was so amusing about her question.

it was confusing; it made no sense.

"so?" she prompted, nudging his side for the second time that day; he shrugged her off, annoyed. "is there any girl you like? any girl you think you like?"

"what's it to you?" he interrogated, placing his helmet over his head to block her out of his peripheral vision. maybe if she wasn't being so annoying, he wouldn't have to do that.

she didn't hesitate when she answered him.

"i'm asking because of an event," said tsumiki, and as she spoke, the sound of shuffling had penetrated megumi's thick helmet, entering his ears, prompting him to turn and glance down at her to see what she was doing. from the lines on his helmet, he could see her shuffling through pages in her folder, before eventually pulling out a purple flyer and offering it to him. sceptically and suspiciously, he took it. "'cause i'm organising it, i get vip tickets for friends and family. i wanted to give you one, and if you have anyone in mind, give her one too. but you're being so secretive."

"i'm not being secretive," said megumi, barely reading the flyer's contents. he was sure he wasn't going to go anyway, he never usually did anyway. he handed it back to her, waving it when she wouldn't take it. "i just don't have anyone."

she sniffed, pushing the flyer back towards him. "could've just said that."

"you were being suspicious," he sneered, eyes narrowed as tsumiki shook her head at him, disagreeing. he clicked his tongue, disapproving. "i don't even go to any of the school stuff anyway."

tsumiki raised a brow at him, visibly sceptical.

"what about homecoming?" she suggested, and megumi was thrown back in time to when he'd been struggling to avoid satoru and his 'bonding time' (which was essentially just picking out expensive suits together). "winter formal? spring fling? the spring formal last year?"

he remembered all of those quite well. still, he remained stagnant.

"i only went to those 'cause y/n dragged me to them."

tsumiki reached up and knocked on his helmet. he scowled and harshly moved her hand away, failing once, twice, three times before she finally stopped.

"did y/n hold a gun to your head?" she asked him, watching as he slowly took his helmet off and shook his hair out of his eyes. he was in need of a haircut soon, he thought to himself, reminded of his mom who politely nagged at him every day about it.

"mentally, she did," he commented quietly. he locked gazes with tsumiki and looked away not even a second later. "does."

a flicker of thought crossed megumi's mind. he recalled the multiple times he'd caught glimpses of tsumiki with kamo throughout the day — small moments, brief exchanges, but enough to catch his attention. she'd been smiling, animated even, in a way that felt unusual.

he acted on this prickle of curiosity, brows furrowed.

"are you taking anyone?" he questioned, looking down at the flyer to clarify. "to the... choir?"

tsumiki shook her head, a look of mild frustration pained over her face. "ever since satoru and your dad scared derek off last year, i... i stopped looking."

megumi raised a brow at her, very clearly critical of her hesitant response. "you stopped looking or they stopped approaching you?"

tsumiki's usual warmth seemed dimmed, her kind expression weighed down with a mix of weariness and irritation, brows knitted slightly with a faint line of frustration formed between them as her gaze shifted to the side, avoiding megumi's probing look.

"they stopped approaching me," she admitted with a sigh, but she was smiling, so megumi assumed it wasn't a massive bother.

not when she seemed to be hitting it off with kamo, apparently...

"so why do you keep talking to kamo?" he asked, straightforward and blunt. there was, in his view, no point beating around the bush or sugarcoating it. it would take too long for her to explain and equally longer for him to just get to the point. he did not have the time nor the patience for that.

there was a gentleness in her face, but it looked stretched thin, as if the weight of the question had caught up, stunning her momentarily. her lips parted briefly, like she wanted to explain, but ultimately came to the decision where in the end, she would not.

"wouldn't you like to know?" she settled on saying, her lip curled.

it irritated megumi.

"i don't," he lied, his voice distant and quiet.

"kamo's a nice guy," said tsumiki, as though trying to feed him this information little by little, like a child being monitored with how much candy they consume. "a really nice guy, actually."

megumi did not particularly agree with this, but he was not going to communicate that with tsumiki, not when she seemed so starstruck by him. megumi didn't even think she felt this strongly about derek carter from the basketball team; it rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that he might have to see one of his football teammates — other than yuji — turn up to dinner at satoru's every once in a while on fridays.

even so, he didn't necessarily believe kamo to be a bad guy.

he was decent: megumi respected his ability to never indulge in gossip as well as the company he always chose to keep — except for todo, that was something he silently critiqued.

but kamo and tsumiki...?

odd pairing, he thought to himself.

"he can hold a conversation better than i thought he could," tsumiki added thoughtfully, slightly nodding to herself as she spoke. "and... he's considerate."

megumi averted his gaze back to the display board, now uninterested.

"will i be seeing him around more?" he asked her without actually looking at her properly. he wasn't in support of this odd pairing, but if tsumiki genuinely liked noritoshi kamo, he wasn't going to actively try and prevent them from happening.

that did not, however, mean he couldn't silently judge them in his head.

and perhaps verbally with nobara, too, since she did feel quite strongly about his teammate ("he acts like he doesn't care about anything, with that 'i don't care' attitude, but look at his face! he's trying too hard, so he definitely does!").

"possibly," said tsumiki, smiling gracefully.

as the muffled sound of voices grew louder, both tsumiki and megumi instinctively turned their heads towards the theatre hall doors, where a steady flow of students began spilling into the corridor. the doors swung open, and megumi's gaze sharpened as he and tsumiki lightly searched the crowd, his eyes moving over familiar faces until they landed on you, standing and walking amidst your classmates.

you approached the two with a smile.

"ooh, tsumiki, you walking home with us?" you asked brightly, adjusting the strap of your bag as you shoved your papers inside. judging from the format of the text, megumi assumed it was a script for another play.

"mamaguro invited me over for dinner," she explained casually, "but she said absence isn't an option, so..."

"ugh, i'm jealous," you frowned, gesturing to your bag to clarify what you meant. "i want to come over too but i have a script to memorise by next week, and i need help with the pre-calc homework kento gave us today."

tsumiki's eyes darted between you and megumi, her lips pursed as though she had been missing something significant.

"megumi's... not able to help you with that?" she asked, her voice an octave higher with apparent confusion.

you raised your brows. "no, he can."

megumi aided you. "i just won't."

tsumiki's head tilted ever so slightly, and a faint crease appeared on her forehead, the kind she only got when she was trying to piece together a particularly baffling puzzle. her lips then parted as if to ask something, but she hesitated, scanning megumi's indifferent expression and your casual one with a slow shake of her head.

"i'm not gonna ask," she settled on saying, before you noticed the flyer in megumi's hand.

leaning in closer, you scanned the leaflet's front, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. the fact that megumi of all people was holding onto one left you momentarily speechless, lips parted as you took in the big, bold text, still a little stunned.

"what's that?" you asked, barely waiting for an answer before reading it aloud. "'choir day: join us and learn the trombone' ... you're actually going to that?"

"no," hestated, looking down and shaking the flyer at tsumiki as though he'd forgotten that he had been holding it. "i'd even pick your stupid plays over some choir show here."

you nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to remind him of who he was speaking to.

"they're not stupid, they're fun," you corrected him with a scowl, pleased when he stepped away from you and threw you a light, warning glare.

tsumiki clicked her fingers at him, making him turn his head and his attention over to her, attentive, like a dog.

"and you're sure you're not taking anyone?" she'd said, brows raised as she opened her folder and tapped at a sheet of paper in it.

you perked up, nonplussed. "you're taking someone?"

"no," he snapped, turning to tsumiki again with a glare. the three of you had started walking out of the hallway now, making your way to the exit. "i told you, i'm not into any girls."

tsumiki, placed in between the two of you, nodded thoughtfully. "ah, so you swing the other way?"

without hesitation, megumi gave her a firm shove, sending her stumbling sidewards — right into you.

"don't be stupid," he'd said over your loud protests, planting his feet firmly onto the ground as tsumiki stood behind him, regaining her balance.

"no, tsumiki, he likes princess jasmine," you told her over his shoulder, watching her enthusiastically nod in agreement.

"i don't —"

"that's why little you's cheeks turned red when her outer robe fell off —" you teased as you walked right up to him, prepared to attack because of his careless shove against tsumiki. 

but he was one step ahead of you.

just as you moved to strike, he planted the helmet on your head and delivered a solid smack to its top. the sound reverberated around you, ringing in your ears, while a dull ache radiated from the point of impact.

your brain had too much fog to focus on what he was now doing to tsumiki. all you could see, through several hard blinks and the stupid face mask lines, was megumi's back, which meant that he was now towering over tsumiki and launching a range of attacks.

you had an idea:

bending over, his helmet now in line with his behind, you charged forward like an angry bull, your head colliding with his back (a stiff one, you had to mention) repeatedly.

"what the—" you heard him grunt.

you couldn't see it, but he was looking down at you from over his shoulder, confused and inwardly concerned with your choice of attack.

it did hurt though, so he'd have to put a stop to it anyway, and that would've been easy to do if tsumiki wasn't now tugging on his hair and stomping on his foot.

from the far end of the hallway, a teacher spotted the scuffle and rushed forward, his expression quickly shifting from irritation to outright disbelief. apparently, he'd first assumed it was a classic tussle between a group of rowdy boys; the vigorous shoving, stomping, and grunts gave that impression from a distance, but as he got closer, he had blinked in surprise, recognising that the three of you involved were a pair of girls and only one boy.

"right, just... walk home safely, you three," he'd said, eyeing megumi's creased jersey and dishevelled hair with a grimace. when his eyes darted to you, the helmet still on your head, he nodded. "bye... y/n."

"no i'm megumi, can't you tell —"

"let's go," megumi grumbled, gripping onto your elbow and tugging you forward with a little more force than necessary.

you shoved him off and walked beside tsumiki again.

the rest of the journey home was filled with collective bullying, laughter, and a disgruntled megumi who vowed to keep you and tsumiki away from each other at all costs. you were rubbing off on her and he didn't like it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

toji shoved satoru off of him once the door had been kicked shut behind him, his chest puffed out in an attempt to appear more intimidating, but he knew the childish man wouldn't flinch even if he bit at him.

"you touch me again and you're gonna end up in a hospital bed you white haired —"

"shut up," satoru groaned, his words drawn out in apparent exhaustion.

toji did not like this demand, parting his lips to say something — no doubt some sort of threat — but satoru had been quicker: for the first time since toji's known him, he was jumping straight to the point.

"look, i don't like you, and you don't like me —"

"incorrect," said toji, arms folded over his chest, though his fists were still clenched where they rested on each side of his waist.

satoru grimaced.

that look — staring back at him with one side of his upper lip lifted, his brows raised and contorted, his nose scrunched. toji wanted nothing more than to punch it right off, a clean swipe.

however, it seemed that he didn't have to, for his face had shifted into one he recognised even better...

the cocky one.

he hated that one even more.

"see, i'm flattered, fushiguro," he began, grinning as toji's nails cut right into each of his palms, leaving half moon crescent marks behind, "really, i am, but i have a wife —"

toji's nostrils flared dangerously.

"shut-the-fuck-up-before-i-shove-my-fist-in-your-fucking-mouth-you-cocky-fucking-bastard —"

satoru raised his hands in mock surrender.

"woah there buddy —"

"you got it fucking twisted," snapped toji, stepping up to the other male with a menacing glare. "i hate your guts. i wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire — and even now, i wanna squash you where you stand, like a bug. consider yourself lucky my wife likes you —"

"i am not the enemy here!" satoru interrupted him loudly.

without breaking eye contact with the enraged, bulky man before him, he pointed at the door behind him where laughter and chatter sounded from members of the gathering.

"we have a common enemy out there. and just this once... aside from the time the serial-hump-er was out for us men... i offer a truce to get rid of the brat."

derek carter was, by all outward appearances, exactly the kind of guy most people would be thrilled to see with someone like tsumiki. he was relentlessly polite, with a clean-cut look and a warm, ready smile that seemed designed to put parents at ease. always prepared, he carried her books without needing to be asked, laughed at all the right moments, and brought flowers to meet the family — not that toji or satoru could find anything wrong with him, on paper.

and maybe that was the problem.

he was too perfect.

perfectly timed smiles, perfect grades, perfect compliments... to toji and satoru, he seemed like he was performing rather than being genuine, and that subtle insincerity — whether real or perceived — set them both on edge. neither of them bought it, and both of them, despite their very obvious differences, couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't quite what he appeared to be.

toji's defensive posture shifted, shoulders loosening as satoru's offer had started to sink in. his glare had softened, the tension in his clenched fists releasing as he glanced from satoru to the closed door behind him, where derek's too-perfect laughter rang out.

for a moment, toji just scowled at the ground, processing, and satoru had assumed he had lost the deal, that they would not be able to collectively get rid of the perfect brat of a date that tsumiki had brought out. but then, toji looked up again, and gave him a quick, almost reluctant nod.

satoru gave him a toothy grin, which was not returned.

"what did you have in mind?" toji began, his voice gruff with obvious reluctance.

"hate to say it, but i'm gonna have to be the brains behind this," said satoru, sounding all too pleased with himself.

if toji hadn't been so pissed with the sight of that carter kid, he might have actually spent time being suspicious with the white-haired freak. what if he was setting him up again? it certainly wouldn't have been the first time...

"believe me, i'd love to be in on the action too," he continued, still smiling that dopy smile, "but i'm a teacher at the high school. got a rep to keep up. and... i could lose my job, obviously..." he glanced at toji with a small, cheeky grin. "you wouldn't be able to relate —"

"— get to the fucking point —"

"— all right."

the plan had been made, enacted, and even altered slightly during it.

the chaos that followed was a carefully orchestrated disaster. satoru's brilliant plan had required toji to bring back a bothersome personality trait he had put at rest from meeting his wife onwards, turning an already uncomfortable event into a whirlwind.

plates clattered, chairs tipped, and the silverware clinked at the most inopportune moments, all while derek had tried to keep his composure, only to grow more visibly unnerved as the night went on. between satoru's subtle, deadpan remarks that derek barely caught, and toji's unexpected, pointed comments that cut through any remaining calm, derek found himself squirming, second-guessing every word. and when toji made a point of 'accidentally' standing too close, arms crossed, looming like a silent bouncer, that had been the final straw.

tsumiki's date excused himself with a pale face, disappearing through the door as fast as he could without actually running.

in turn, tsumiki had not spoken to either of them again for a whole, entire week.

at least the brat was gone without any legal reinforcements.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

notes: i hope you enjoyed this chapter (congrats again reinaswrldddd) my wifeee 🎀💓 i hope it pleases you, i hope you become rich and rule the world (gonna need it after trump’s win 😐). you’re the best and ily (did you guys know that she’s my wife? 😱❤️‍🔥)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @laughingfcx @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[anemos-orca]

Xiao loves how you...

contains: No NSFW, fluffy only :D, gender neutral!reader x Xiao (no pronouns used), reader loves biology, not proof-read at all qwq

summary: The things you do that Xiao find so endearing about you :3

A/N: idrk what this is :x i guess a compilation of cute xiao thoughts? idk qwq lots of biology stuff because thats my thing •w• if you cant tell, i love xiao so much -w-

♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎

Xiao would find it difficult to admit it out loud if you asked, but he couldnt get enough of you.

Xiao loved how passionate you were about your work and the things you loved, the way your enthusiasm guided your life and led you to be as sweet, caring, and compassionate as you were.

The way you got down to eye level with the dogs and cats in the harbor to say hello and pet them, even though doing such with every animal you passed made your trips take far longer than they realistically should.

The way your voice shrunk into a soft coo with the shy cats and grew into an ecsatic yip to rial up the dogs, talking to them like they could answer back.

The way you made an effort to memorize each of their names and the places they did and did not like to be pet, all to make them happy because, in your words, "They dont live all that long compared to us, so every bit of affection counts."

You were caring to all, so gentle and sweet, no matter who they were.

Xiao loved how expressive your face and body language were, and how each subtle movement betrayed your every emotion (even in times you didnt particularly want to be read like a book).

How you werent ever restless when you worked- he never failed to notice how you could sit for hours and study the behaviors of even the slowest, most boring koi in a pond without so much as a shifty-eyed glance of boredom. He could never sit and study things with you for the full amount of time because of how thurough you were.

He loved the way your nose scrunched up in disgust at the silliest things and how your eyes seemed to light up with excitement every time you saw something cool, even if it was just a pesky beetle that found its way onto the railing.

He loved the way you became so flustered every time he would so much as mention how adorable you looked when you were intruiged by something- especially when he caught you crouched down and wide-eyed as you watched a plant idly sway in the breeze, your attention so fixed on the sessile organism that you hadnt noticed Xiao kneeling down next to you. He tried to be sorry for startling you so badly that you fell onto your face, but it was hard to take you seriously when your cheeks were flushed such a bright red and you stammered over every word that fell from your lips.

Xiao couldnt get enough of how cute you were. If he truly wanted to, he could go on and on listing the adorable things you did, but he was the Conqueror of Demons, not the Conqueror of Having-A-Hard-Time-With-Expressing-Human-Emotions.

How you clutched that old, flattened koi plush close to your chest each night as you slept curled up in his arms. Even on the nights he couldnt join you as you fell asleep, he would come to your shared room at the Inn to check on you, comforted when he would find that you had fallen asleep wrapped around your plushie. He was always glad that you were fully asleep when he checked in on you because if you woke up from the hushed sound of his Wind-Cycle as he teleported into the room and saw him planting the most gentle of kisses to your lips, his one hand draped over your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek, he would be too embarrassed to even speak. You wouldnt tell him, but you secretly knew that he did this every night he couldnt be in bed with you.

He craved the way your face softened when you kissed him. He was addicted to it. The way you held his cheeks oh-so gently, your soft, warm hands keeping his mind steady as you leaned in and pressed such intimate little kisses all over his face. The way you paid special attention to his lips, knowing that he loved those kisses the most. After a long day of slaughtering countless demons, coming home to such soft and adorable mannerisms was all he wanted- and he got it every time.

He loved how adorable you looked when you cuddled him. He didnt get it at first, but after a few times, he found himself hungry for more and excitedly expecting it each night. He didnt know how you did it (and even thought it was some sort of demon-spell-trickery-hoopla at first), but now that he felt what it was to be held close, to be snuggled, to cuddle, he desired more and more each time. He loved the way you balled up in his arms on some nights and sloppily laid across his chest on others. He even loved how, when you were especially exhausted, you drooled on his shirt, leaving a wet, darkened mark that the other Adepti teased him about. He was once embarrassed about it, but after a moment of thought about how you were his only, your drool marks were his only, your sleepy face was his only, your love was his only, he wore your drool mark with pride every other night it happened from then on out. He was the only one who would ever have your drool, so that made it exclusive and special. No matter how much anyone envied the fact that he was the one who got to hold you in his arms while you fell asleep, they would never get to have you. You were his, and his only. Drool included.

Xiao loved you. All of you. And he would continue to do so forever, no matter what. Even if you scolded him (with the most endearing blush-covered cheeks, he'd like to add) for startling you and making you fall on your face. Even if you took an excessively long amount of time every trip to the harbor because you wanted to "catch up" with the animals. Even if you drooled on his shirt because of how tired you were. He was tough, callous, and sometimes even came across as cold or flat out rude to others, but knowing that you saw the real him, the Xiao no one else got to see, was enough to make him feel soft and fuzzy inside. And for that, he loved you very, very much.

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[onlyonetifosi]

The Leclerc household was buzzing with activity on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of dishes clinking together filled the air. It was a typical day for the Leclerc family, except for one member who stood silently in the corner of the kitchen, observing the chaos before her. That member was Y/N Leclerc, the youngest of the Leclerc siblings.

Y/N was only seventeen, still in high school, while her brothers, Charles and Arthur, had already made their mark in the world of motorsports. Charles, the middle child, had achieved great success in Formula 1, while Arthur was steadily making his way through Formula 2. Y/N, however, was never given the opportunity to pursue her dreams of becoming a race car driver. The family's financial limitations forced them to prioritize Charles and Arthur's careers.

As Y/N watched her brothers and mother, Pascale, engaging in animated conversation, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. She desperately wanted to be a part of their world, to share in their victories and defeats. But fate had chosen a different path for her, one that she was still struggling to come to terms with.

"Y/N, can you pass me the sugar, s'il vous plaît?" Charles's voice interrupted her thoughts, his eyes focused on his phone.

Y/N snapped back to reality and reached for the sugar, placing it in front of him. "Here you go, Charles."

"Merci," he replied absentmindedly, already engrossed in his social media feed.

She glanced at Arthur, who was discussing race strategies with their mother in rapid French. He occasionally shot her a sympathetic smile, aware of the void in her heart.

Feeling a surge of frustration, Y/N mustered the courage to speak up. "Maman, I don't feel well can I go to my room?" she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Pascale turned to her daughter, a concerned expression on her face but still let her. "Bien sûr"

Y/N found solace in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall adorned with posters of her brothers' achievements. It was a constant reminder of the path she couldn't walk.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and her mother, Pascale, stepped in. She had a gentle smile on her face, but Y/N could see the sadness in her eyes.

"Ma chérie," Pascale said, her voice filled with love and concern. "Are you okay?"

Y/N fought back tears and nodded, unable to find the right words.

Pascale sat beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know it's difficult, Y/N. But your time will come. We couldn't afford to support all three of you at once, and it broke our hearts to make that decision."

Y/N's voice trembled as she spoke, "I just feel so invisible, Mom. Like I don't matter compared to Charles and Arthur. They're living their dreams, and I'm stuck here."

Pascale hugged her tightly, her voice softening. "You matter more than you know, my dear. You're our pillar of strength, our hope for the future. We couldn't have made it this far without you."

Y/N clung to her mother, tears streaming down her face. "Je sais, maman, mais c'est difficile. J'essaie de trouver ma place, mais j'ai l'impression que je ne pourrai jamais briller comme eux."

A few days later, Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo found Y/N sitting in the garden, lost in her thoughts. They exchanged worried glances before joining her, taking a seat on the bench.

Lorenzo, the ever-protective older brother, broke the silence. "Y/N, we need to talk. We've noticed that you've been feeling down lately, and we want you to know that we see you. We love you."

Y/N looked up at them, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry. I don't want to be a burden. I just can't help feeling left behind."

Charles placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice filled with remorse. "Y/N, you're not a burden. We may be racing, but you're racing in your own way. You're still fighting, still pushing through, and we admire that."

Arthur chimed in, his voice full of conviction. "You've always been our biggest supporter, Y/N. Your presence gives us strength. We wouldn't be where we are without you."

Y/N wiped away her tears, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes. She finally felt seen, acknowledged, and valued by her brothers.

"Merci," she whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Je vous aime"

In that moment, they all understood the true meaning of family. It wasn't just about racing or achievements, but about being there for each other, supporting one another through the highs and lows of life.

The Leclerc family stood in a tender embrace, a silent acknowledgment of the love and bond they shared. In that moment, Y/N realized that while her dreams of becoming a race car driver may have been put on hold, she had something equally valuable—her family's unwavering support.

From that day forward, Y/N pursued her passion for motorsports in her own unique way. She became an avid spectator, cheering on her brothers from the sidelines, and found solace in other hobbies that sparked her creativity and brought her joy.

In the shadows of the track, Y/N Leclerc discovered her own light, finding fulfillment in the love of her family and the pursuit of her own dreams, however different they may be.

[pinknipszz]

rainbow fish | (previous)

“there comes a day when you’re gonna look around and realize happiness is where you are.”

there are many things ao’nung takes for granted, but you certainly aren’t one of them. the hunter is absolutely smitten– praising and cherishing you everyday, thanking ewya for the woman he mated with.

he also spoils you rotten. if you ask him to run a simple errand, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. if you’re a little hungrier than usual, he’ll catch the biggest fish with his bare hands. if something, or ewya forbid someone, is bothering you, he’ll take care of it before you know it.

you’re his light and day, his happiness embodied, and he would choose you over anything else in the world. that’s why, for your sake, ao’nung decided to take a day off to play the “good guy” around the village. to his surprise, his father didn’t need much convincing. when he asked, the olo’eyktan agreed without giving so much as a second thought. it was odd, but his approval was all that mattered.

to start, ao’nung woke up bright and early to prepare a small meal for you before heading out. it was a simple bowl of chopped fruits you liked, but he wanted to go the extra mile and make it look appealing. he rearranged the fruits this way and that, pushing some to the side to let others shine, before starting all over again. he grew frustrated. 

ao’nung didn’t have the most delicate fingers either. by the time he settled on an arrangement, a few pieces were ugly and deformed. it was too late to fix it though. “what's that?” you laughed, pointing at the mound of fruit in one of your carefully-crafted bowls. it wasn’t exactly what you were expecting when ao’nung told you to wait before attending to your tsakarem duties. “is that fruit?”

“what do you think it is?” he deadpanned.

you grabbed the bowl from his hands and inspected it closely, struggling to find the right words. “they look so… worn out.” nonetheless, you popped one in your mouth. there wasn’t much to say about the taste since it was chopped fruit, but you wanted to humor him. you chewed as slowly as possible as he watched in anticipation, awaiting your verdict. “it tastes…”

“delicious!” you finished, smiling sweetly at how the tension dissipated from his shoulders. 

ao’nung cleaned up the mess before giving you a kiss on the cheek and saying goodbye. he proudly walked down the webbed path, knowing your reaction was first of many victories today. it was time for the next item on his to-do list: apologize to the members of his hunting party.

much of his party consisted of young hunters who recently finished their iknimaya. they were arrogant in everything they did, even out hunting in the treacherous waters. it may not have been his place to berate them in front of a crowd, but if you ask him, it was a long overdue and well-deserved punishment.

na’pey was the unfortunate na’vi who bore the weight of his scolding. since he sported a hideous hairstyle and often chortled like a baby ilu, he wasn’t very difficult to find, but he set those judgments aside for the sake of keeping face. once ao’nung reached the edge of the shore, he found him sitting on some nearby rocks, sharpening his spear. 

“na’pey!” he called out as he approached. na’pey jumped up and whipped his head around at the sharp sound of his name being called. when his eyes landed on ao’nung’s approaching figure, the color slowly drained from his face. na’pey moved his fingers in greeting. “ao’nung.” he acknowledged with his head bowed slightly.

ao’nung nodded. “did i catch you at a bad time?”

“not at all. i’m just sharpening my spear.” the spear in question laid pathetically on the ground, discarded by its owner. at the screwed up expression on ao’nung’s face, most likely judging how the quality weapon was treated, na’pey did some damage control. “w-well, i was.”

“right.” ao’nung said pointedly, turning away to look out at the gentle waves. na’pey looked at the ocean and back at his mentor, confused. “um, is something wrong?” he questioned. when ao’nung didn’t respond, an awkward silence washed over them. na’pey constantly shifted his weight between his feet, whistling a random tune and fiddling with the ornaments on his belt to distract himself.

“are you always this noisy?” he snapped. na’pey froze.

for a moment, ao’nung’s glare relented. “look.” he sighed. “i came to apologize.”

“w-what?” he gaped, perplexed.

“i shouldn’t have been so harsh the other day. i was letting my anger get the best of me, and instead of handling it maturely,” ao’nung eyed him knowingly, “i lashed out like a child. it wasn’t my place to embarrass you in front of your family and friends, and i’m sorry for the trouble i caused you.”

“n-no way!” na’pey stammered quickly. “you don’t have to apologize. i mean, you were just doing your job, and my friends and i were acting out of line. you were just worried about our safety. i really appreciate it.” he flashed a genuine smile, to which ao’nung gladly returned.

it went on like this with the other hunters, apologizing and making amends. many were speechless at how the future olo’eyktan set aside his pride to admit fault, while others rejoiced at his change in attitude. ao’nung didn’t know whether to feel insulted or not, but he simply huffed and moved on. the last item on his agenda was spending quality time with his people.

admittedly, it’s been a while since he’s done so. a normal day for ao’nung consisted of endless training with his father, and he’d spend most, if not all, of his leisure time with you. until today, it never really occurred to him how much the village changed over the years. in a blink of an eye, he could hardly recognize the na’vi from his youth, who now had children he didn’t know the names of.

ao’nung shook off the guilt creeping in his chest.

he started with the elders. to make up for lost time, he rebraided their jewelry while sharing stories of his life, whether it be about the clan, his parents, or you. surprisingly, you were a popular topic among them. everytime he spoke of you, they leaned in eagerly with a mischievous glint in their eyes. really, he’ll never know what goes on in their old minds.

after that, he decided to play a game with the children, namely his little brother’s friends. kalun strongly opposed to the idea until one of his friends convinced him otherwise.

“what do you mean you don’t know how this game works?” ao’nung scoffed and crossed his arms. a few children giggled and followed suit, imitating his “silly” posture. “what are your parents even teaching you guys?” he spent the rest of his afternoon like this, teaching his favorite childhood games. it was a little irritating at first, but eventually, ao’nung found himself having more fun than he ever expected.

once the sun began to dip into the horizon, splashing hues of gold across the expanse of the sky, ao’nung bid each one farewell and moved on to the final destination: his family’s marui. he doubted his parents would be home since they usually handled a plethora of nightly duties, but he knew at least one person would there.

“alright, what are you up to?” tsireya finally broke the silence, scrutinizing her brother. prior to his arrival, she was peacefully weaving a new bassinet for an expecting mother who lived across the village. she was perfectly capable of finishing it on her own until ao’nung abruptly stormed into the marui, stealing her work to finish himself. “lo’ak told me you spoke with na’pey earlier. what’s gotten into you?”

“can’t i do something nice once in a while?” he groaned exasperatedly, struggling to tie two ends together. “why does everyone have to make a big deal out of it?”

tsireya shook her head and playfully rolled her eyes. “because it’s unnatural.”

the two siblings continued like this as time went on. in between their bickering, ao’nung would ask about her well-being, her relationship with lo’ak, and her plans to move out soon. in turn, tsireya would ask about his training, his recent hunt, and you. ao’nung was startled at how nostalgic it felt. as he replayed the day’s events in his head, his mind slowly drifted away from the conversation.

tsireya quickly caught on. “it’s getting late, ao’nung. you should go before our parents return home. if they catch you here, they’ll force you to eat dinner with us.” she laughed, giving him a dismissive wave. ao’nung gave her one last hug before starting the long walk back to his marui. 

along the way, he bumped into the children from earlier and noticed his brother wasn’t with them, most likely running off on his own. he knelt down to greet them kindly. to show their gratitude for the time he spent, each of them gave a shell they had picked from the sand. ao’nung gladly took the shells and promised to play again soon. 

something similar occurred when he walked by the elders, who pulled him away from the path. again, he exchanged pleasantries, gratefully accepted their gift, which was a thin armband made out of dried seaweed, and continued on his way. then, he passed by his hunting party. they smiled and waved widely at him, to which ao’nung smiled back in acknowledgement.

finally, after countless minutes, he saw his home in the distance.

upon reaching the entrance, he found you prepping dinner. ao’nung walked over to sit with you and press a kiss to your temple. “where’d you get the fish?” he noticed, basking in the sense of familiarity of the situation. you smiled knowingly. “it was a gift from your friends.”

(masterlist)

[writing-for-marvel]

Dear January

Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: While everyone else is celebrating the new year, all Bucky can think about is his resolution and you, though the two are inextricably linked.

Warnings: a little angst with discussions of Bucky’s past & references to him having PTSD, reader has empathy related powers, fluffy ending

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: banners by @vase-of-lilies, dividers by @newlips. Happy New Year everyone!! I hope 2023 is the year all your wishes and dreams come true 💜💜

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Dear January, please let the new year be kind to me.

It was nearing midnight when Bucky strayed from the festivities, sneaking away from Steve’s overprotective, hovering presence while he was distracted with one of the new recruits Natasha was attempting to set him up with.

A crowded room with loud music and dancing couples might have been his scene in the 40’s, but was far from the solitary life he enjoyed in the 21st century. Steve had insisted that the party would be a good opportunity to get to know everyone outside of a work environment, and also confirmed you would be in attendance.

If Bucky were honest, that was the only reason he had chosen to come.

This was Steve’s world and Bucky was simply a visitor - if you could call someone who had been living in Stark tower with the rest of the Avengers for more than 6 months a ‘visitor’. But this was Steve’s home, Steve’s friends, Steve’s team, and as happy as Bucky was to see his best friend adapt to these modern times and surround himself with a community of people who trusted and respected him, Bucky still felt like an outsider.

No one trusted or respected him.

Well, with the exception of Steve himself, and perhaps you, the other newest member of the team. But Bucky wasn’t sure if your kindness stemmed from wanting to make a good impression as a newcomer, or if you genuinely liked his company.

He hoped it was the latter.

Bucky’s thoughts as he descended the tower to the small, concealed area in the basement he used to get away from the bustling upper level floors, was that this new year brought a fresh start, and that’s what he needed most right now. A clean slate. To hit the reset button on life.

He knew it was arbitrary, nothing would actually reset at the tick of midnight - his troubles of December 31st would still be his January anxieties; his murderous past would continue to follow him around like a shadow, something he couldn’t simply shake off and which only became darker the more light you shed on it.

But a change in calendar year could at least come with a change in mindset. That would be the first step in achieving his New Year’s resolution and to move on with his life.

Perhaps finally forgiving himself for the atrocities his body committed without permission from his mind would be the first step in feeling like he truly belonged.

“Hey, whatcha doing all the way down here?” Bucky recognised the voice immediately - of course it would be you to find him down here. You were the only person besides Steve to care enough to notice his absence.

“How did you find me?” Bucky chose not to turn around, he didn’t want you seeing the affliction on his face it seemed only you could detect, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

“It’s not too difficult when you have a cloud of melancholy following you around.” There were times when Bucky relished your powers, being able to sense his emotions meant he didn’t have to find the right words to vividly express how he was feeling when he didn’t have the strength to describe just how miserable and despondent the weight on his chest felt on a particular day. Though, today was not one of those occasions. “What’s wrong?”

“This is technically my first new year since the 40’s, I wasn’t sure how I’d react to the fireworks. Loud sounds sometimes still…” He trailed off, embarrassed at how pathetic it sounded when he tried to articulate that loud sounds still triggered flashbacks to events of a war which occurred eighty years ago.

The concern brimming in your eyes in response to this almost made him feel guilty for not telling you the entire truth - yes, he was concerned that the sporadic, popping sounds of the fireworks would set off one of his PTSD episodes, but what he failed to mention was he was frustrated with himself at not being able to make conversation with the team upstairs as easily as he’d have hoped.

With you it came so easy. Expressing himself to you was effortless and didn’t carry the same nervous weight as it did with everyone else. But that only made his futile efforts earlier that night all the more infuriating and discouraging.

You reached out and took hold of his hand. Even though Bucky had known you for around six months, it still surprised him every time how gentle, almost affectionate, your touch was. It made him flinch, but not in the same way physical touch usually made him recoil. He liked the feeling, he was simply not used to it. Not used to being handled like something cared about, something treasured.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be with you through the whole thing.”

The basement of Stark Tower was the depot for all previously loved items that Tony refused to throw away, so with the items on hand, you set up a blanket fort between a few old chairs, loaded with comfy pillows and sought out some old card and board games to keep the two of you occupied.

When the clock suddenly struck twelve, and the new year commenced, Bucky could barely hear the crackling sound of the fireworks from the haven of your blanket fort, even with his enhanced hearing. You said a quick ‘happy new year!’, kissed him on his cheek and went straight back into the game of uno you were teaching him to play.

He was far too engrossed enjoying his time with you, and trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks, to pay any mind to what was occurring outside the four walls of the basement.

“Do you have a New Year’s resolution?” You asked as you played a draw two card. Bucky groaned in annoyance, though your cute chuckle in response to this was the real reason he had done it.

“Are you really meant to share resolutions? I thought that jinxed them.” Was what Bucky said to avoid saying his out loud.

“It’s not like a wish Buck, you can say a resolution aloud - it’s the work you put into them that makes them come true.” Bucky hesitated a moment but eventually gave in to your curious expression. He knew his aspirations would be safe with you.

“To try and be kinder to myself. Forgive myself for the deeds I was forced to commit and to remind myself what I did doesn’t define who I am now.” His statement sounded recited and even he wasn’t completely convinced by his words, so he knew you, who was privy to every inflection of emotion through his body, would not be satisfied with his answer. “That I’m not a killer anymore.” Bucky added feebly.

“James, you were never a killer.” He had seen the way his own teammates looked at him with utmost caution and terminal wariness every time he entered a room, as if they were all predicting his complete disintegration where he would revert to his brainwashed state and attempt to kill everyone in the tower. He was positive they considered him an executioner.

Bucky paused - you had never looked at him like that.

“I killed people, I’m pretty sure that makes me-”

“No it doesn’t, because that wasn’t you.” You interrupted. The ease at which these words rolled off your tongue and the steady conviction of your voice as you doubled down on your argument, prompted Bucky to think you actually believed them. “You do not hold any of the blame for what you were forced to do, you are a war veteran who fought for the freedoms of so many people, you gave your life so others could live theirs free of Hitler’s regime. You should be commended, not punished.”

“Thank you, for having that faith in me, I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“Yes you do. And I’ll always be around if you need the reminder.” You placed your second last remaining card down on the ever growing pile and claimed ‘uno’. Bucky was too preoccupied with the words you had said to continue focussing on the game.

“Always?”

“For as long as you want me to, Buck.”

“What if I wanted you around forever.” Bucky commented, chuckling slightly so you’d think he was half joking, even though he wasn’t. He bashfully broke eye contact to place a card on the central pile, but it didn’t stop his cheeks from heating like an ember.

“Then forever it is.”

Bucky was absolutely positive you were currently able to sense his feelings of deep affection and devotion for you as easy as noticing the warm sunlight on your skin during a cloudless summer day. But with the way you were earnestly smiling at him, and those kind eyes looking at him like he was all that mattered to you, he didn’t feel panicked that you knew how he felt. In fact, right here with you was the most serene he had felt since the 1940s.

As you placed your final card on the pile, a triumphant smile blossoming on your face as you won the game, he found he could not tear his eyes away from the magnificent sight.

Bucky realised in that moment he would do anything to see you smiling like that every day of his life.

The thought he actually had a remainder of a life to plan for frightened him, but if he would be able to spend it with you then he considered that a life worth living.

“Bucky?” You queried with wide eyes, scooting closer to him in the fort. His heart started pounding rapidly in his chest with anticipation - you wouldn’t have to have empathy powers to tell your proximity made him nervous.

“Mhmm.” He hummed, licking his lips as his gaze quickly averted to your own before returning to your yearning eyes, which were making the carefully constructed walls he used to keep the pain of rejection out, weaker by the millisecond.

“You know, it’s tradition to kiss at the beginning of the new year.” You stated with a contagious cheeky smile.

“I do remember that one.” He chuckled shyly, hopeful excitement buzzed in his stomach at the prospect of what was about to happen.

“I’d like for you to be my first kiss of the year.” You requested, and Bucky’s heart felt like it would explode in his chest it was beating so powerfully. “Also for you to be the only person I kiss all year, if that’s okay with you.” And with that he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Perfectly fine with me.”

You reached across the paltry space between you and tenderly placed your lips on his as your eyes fluttered shut. The kiss was tentative at first - you were allowing Bucky to set the pace, determine how deep he wanted to delve. It was Bucky’s first kiss since the 40’s, he was worried he would disappoint you, but when he felt your eager lips against his, it gave him the confidence to go all in.

Reaching across the space between you, Bucky pulled you into his lap, simultaneously silently asking permission to explore your mouth with his tongue, which you freely gave him.

Your bodies pressed together, your hands pulling you ever closer to him, was the unexpected, yet perfect way to start to the new year.

Dear January, thank you for already making this year better than my last.

[ghxstlly]

Feanger when things get rough

As we all well know, relationships are not always sunshine and rainbows. Couples won't always get along, and can go through periods of awkwardness or anger that can make a romantic courtship really rocky at times. Fear and Anger are not exempt from this.

In my opinion, fostering a ship can be a surprisingly rewarding creative endeavor when you delve into the more negative aspects of a pairing— things they argue and fight about and have to make up over. Don't get me wrong, their happiness and chemistry is the #1 thing that makes a ship so fun to play with. But thinking what makes it tick is an undervalued way to really flesh your ship out in the theatre of your mind.

That said, what do I think makes Feanger tick?

Ramblings under the cut

Anger is a person who has a lot of judgemental thoughts and opinions about others— that's just the way he is. It's one of the pillars of his character, and causes him to be blunt/short with others. It isn't that he's necessarily trying to be malicious or hurtful, it's moreso that what he thinks is right and what he thinks others ought to do or be is often at the forefront of his mind when interacting with his colleagues.

And while a lot of that stuff is not expressed, his temper can cause some of these opinions to burst out in a way that is usually tactless and/or hurtful.

Anger is also not a person who apologizes. Seldom does he feel he's in the wrong after doing or saying something, it's part of his bluntness and sometimes harsh ways of going about things.

Combine these two negative traits, and you can end up with arguments or fights where potentially hurtful things are said but not apologized for, because although Anger wouldn't normally say them out loud, oftentimes he still believes them to be true. Again, it isn't a matter of him being abusive or intentionally malicious, he's just overly opinionated/judgemental.

Fear is not necessarily a person who can easily handle that kind of scrutiny. Although words of that sort sting him about just as much as they'd sting anyone, no more no less, it's the self doubt and stress that manifests as a result that gets to him. Insults and jabs he can handle fine, in fact he's just as capable of saying things in the heat of the moment that have the potential to be hurtful, but afterwards, while they "cool down," anxious thoughts form that maybe Anger doesn't like him as much as he thought he did, and a wide gap forms between them where he and Anger seldom speak or interact.

It's an uncomfortable, mutual "shunning" that occurs, wherein Fear grapples with the anxiety that they may never be close again while Anger gradually becomes remorseful but is either too hesitant or too proud to act on it.

The longest I would imagine this going on for is a full week and a half, the shortest, maybe four days. During that time, starting out in a mutually upset state, they "cool down" over time and slowly come back together until some semblace of an apology occurs. While this is usually implicit, that is to say, the apology is made without ever actually saying the words, Fear will sometimes find something to explicitly apologize for, mostly for his own reassurance as arguments/fights with Anger tend to take a toll on his self-image and perception of his role in their relationship.

Now, I know all that sounds rough, but something I'd like to make sure is said is that while Anger almost always means the hurtful things he says during moments of high stress (even if the wording is a little skewed from the actual opinion), he is equally honest with his reassurances and praise (even if he sometimes has a difficult time expressing them), which is a fact Fear is aware of and trusts.

Ultimately the relationship between Fear and Anger stands on the pillars of mutual respect and trust. They are aware of one another's weakness and where their own strengths compliment the other's, which helps them understand one another and strengthen their bond.

And although they have moments where their big personalities clash in less-than-pretty explosions of nasty emotions, they always manage to get through it. :) 💜❤

[lynnerdo]

* The heart is not meant to rule *

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai

Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc

Previous Chapter - The Fall Current Chapter - Blood for Blood

***

All you could do right now is wait it out, you thought to yourself. Your situation more dire than you had imagined, what if nothing ever changed on Giedi Prime, and you’d be stuck here for so long that Feyd would find someone else to fulfil his needs and wants. You frowned at the idea because it sounded so stupid in your head but doubt always likes to settle in at the worst of times.

Your thoughts quickly dispersed as you received a message from one of your staff.

“Another letter, my lady”, they spoke softly as they handed you a handwritten note in a sealed envelope.

The both of you had reverted to using an old-fashioned method of communications even if that meant that it would take a longer while. You both had a trusted servant who would make the trip and deliver them. The Baron had no idea of this, and it could not be traced easily. You had been doing this for weeks now, sending letter back and forth, updating each other on what was happening on your planets, reminding each other what you were fighting for.

*

Feyd sat down in his room, ink at the ready, a blank sheet before him. He stared at the empty page, struggling to find the words to convey his feelings.

“Dear Lady Atreides…”

He paused, feeling the inadequacy of his greeting. You, miles away on Caladan, had written him letters full of warmth and longing. Each word you wrote brought him comfort, yet he found himself unable to reciprocate with the same eloquence.

“I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you terribly. The days here are long and lonely without your presence.”

Feyd frowned, scratching out the last sentence. It sounded too formal, too detached. He wanted to tell you how his heart ached in your absence, how your memory haunted his dreams, but the words felt clumsy.

He tried again.

“Your last letter brought me much joy. Your words are like a balm to my soul. I wish I could express myself as beautifully as you do.”

Again, he hesitated. This wasn’t right either. His frustration grew, and he pushed the parchment aside, covering his hand over his face in shame.

“Why is this so difficult?” he mutters to himself.

It was then that he realised: he was a man of actions, not words. His strength lay in what he did, not what he wrote. You knew this about him, appreciated it even. You had always understood his need to show his feelings through deeds rather than letters.

He took a deep breath, a new resolve forming within him. Picking up the quill once more, he began to write.

“My dearest, I have struggled to find the right words to tell you how much you mean to me. Every attempt feels insufficient. So, instead of words, I send you this token of my affection.”

He reached into a small box on his desk and took out a very intricate looking pendant. He had commissioned this a while back but never found the time and place to give it to you. Bearing the crest of House Atreides intertwined with that of House Harkonnen, a symbol of your forbidden yet unbreakable bond.

As he continued writing, the words flowed more easily.

“This pendant represents my promise to you. No matter the distance, no matter the danger, my heart is with you always. I will come to you as soon as I can, to show you what my words cannot express. He will not stand in our way much longer. Yours always, Feyd.”

Sealing the letter with the pendant inside, Feyd felt a sense of relief. He knew that you would understand. He allowed himself a rare smile, thinking about you wearing the pendant as soon as you read the letter, knowing that his love would feel the depth of his emotions.

*

As you finish reading the letter you’re practically cry-laughing. His letter short and direct, but the pendant gorgeously detailed and intricate. The design of it making your heart flutter in all the right ways.

You glance back at the letter and wonder what he meant by those last words about the Baron. It seemed like a threat, and you just hope he won’t do anything stupid.

*

After giving the letter to the trusted servant Feyd goes into the palace again and challenges the Baron to a duel, fully knowing that the Baron never fights his own battles. You would be telling him how stupid this was, and how he broke his promise to not do anything risky while you were gone. But he simply cannot handle this anymore. His hatred for the Baron is overtaking his every thought, and now he finally found the courage to overthrow his abuser.

To Feyd’s surprise the Baron almost immediately agrees to a duel, choosing one of their best assassins as an opponent. Feyd knew something was up but had no idea who to trust. Luckily, Tula had been loyal as ever to the both of you, so she had been able to get intel before the duel.

She told Feyd about how this was not going to be a fair match, since Feyd was their best fighter, so they had arranged the assassin’s blades, so they were coated with poison. Highly illegal, but necessary if the Baron wanted Feyd dead.

“So, all I have to do is not get struck,” Feyd spoke matter of fact. As if it was that simple.

Tula raised her eyebrows at him. Almost in disbelief at how fast he shrugged this deafening information off him.

“My lord na-baron… If you get hit once…”, she didn’t want to finish her sentence, for the looming doom sounded too dark to utter.

He stared at her face for a while, knowing the implications, agreeing that he had to be careful. He felt a moment of weakness, of himself opening up to her.

“If I ever want to see her again…” he spoke while looking away.

Tula felt his persistence and understood how he felt, her own appreciation and love for you convincing her that this was the only option. She had faith in him, knew he would overcome, but feared the other outcome greatly.

*

Feyd Rautha stood in the dimly lit arena, the sand beneath his feet a stark reminder of the deadly encounter ahead. The Baron's chosen champion stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a murderous intent. Feyd noticed the subtle exchange between the Baron and his fighter—a set of blades, their edges glinting ominously in the light. Feyd’s heart sank. The poison. Tula had been a respectable associate.

The battle began with a flurry of movements, both fighters clashing with ferocity. Feyd's opponent was relentless, his skill evident in every precise strike and parry. Feyd, though equally skilled, found himself pushed to the brink, barely keeping up with the brutal onslaught. Both men kept doing the deadly dance for what felt like ages, often times coming close to striking each other but never quite.

Feyd got distracted by the crowd, definitely cheering him on, but also reminding him of what he would lose should he die. Then, it happened. A sharp, searing pain in his shoulder as the poisoned blade found its mark. Feyd staggered, feeling the venom course through his veins. His vision blurred, and he could hear the Baron's triumphant laughter echoing through the arena.

But Feyd refused to fall. Summoning the last of his strength, he launched a desperate counterattack, his movements fueled by sheer willpower. In a swift, decisive strike, he brought down the Baron's champion, the man crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap. The arena fell silent, all eyes on Feyd as he stood over his fallen opponent, panting heavily. The Baron, watching from his perch, smiled coldly, confident in his victory despite his fighter's defeat. Feyd should be collapsing any moment now, succumbing to the deadly poison.

But Feyd remained standing. Minutes passed, and he did not fall. The Baron’s smile faltered, confusion and anger replacing his smug confidence. Why was Feyd still alive? The crowd went from a silence to a roaring mass, scream-shouting Feyd’s name, for a new Baron had risen before their eyes.

Feyd met the Baron's gaze, a defiant glint in his eyes. He understood now. The poison was the same as that from the viper on Caladan, the same venom that had nearly claimed his life once before. It felt almost poetic. If he were to write about it, he could make up 30 different ways of how you indirectly saved his life multiple times without realising it.

Realization dawned on the Baron, his face contorting in rage and disbelief. Feyd straightened, a victorious smile playing on his lips. He had not only survived the duel but had exposed the Baron’s treachery and emerged stronger for it.

As the arena erupted in cheers for Feyd, he silently vowed to himself and the reader who had saved him: this was just the beginning. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, their bond and their combined strength unbreakable.

[multi-fandoms-posts]

Unexpected Revelations part 2

Cherik x reader

Logan x sister!reader

part 1, part 3, last part

The last week have been tense for all of us. I can hardly believe how quickly everything has changed. Amidst the chaos, I discovered that I’m pregnant. The news is overwhelming, and I know I need to talk to Logan as soon as possible. But the fear of his reaction makes me hesitate.

Eventually, I decide to talk to him. It’s a quiet afternoon, and I ask Logan to meet with me. As we stand facing each other in a quiet room at school, I feel the nervousness in my hands. “Logan, I need to tell you something important,” I begin, my voice trembling.

Logan looks at me attentively, his expression serious. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

I pause and take a deep breath.

“I... I’m pregnant,” I finally say, my heart racing. “And... I wanted you to be the first to know.”

A moment of silence follows, during which Logan just looks at me. His eyes widen in shock, and I can see that he needs to process the information. “What?” he finally stammers, his voice sounding incredulous and overwhelmed.

“Yes, it’s true,” I say softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I know this is all sudden, and I understand if you need time to think about it.”

Logan seems to struggle with his thoughts, and the confusion on his face scares me. “This is... this is a lot. I... I need time to process this,” he finally says.

The emotional weight is clearly too much for him. Logan shakes his head, and his eyes fill with tears, which he hastily wipes away. “I... I can’t deal with this right now,” he says, his voice barely audible. “I need... I need to leave.” Logan turns abruptly and walks away without another word.

The room seems to spin around me as I am left alone. The realization that Logan is overwhelmed and left the situation so abruptly weighs heavily on me.

I sink into a chair and let the tears flow. The entire situation is overwhelming, and the fear of what’s to come seems to suffocate me. It’s clear that I have a lot of work ahead to give Logan time and offer him the support he needs as we navigate this new challenge together.

After Logan leaves, I feel paralyzed. I know I also need to tell Erik and Charles, but the fear that their reaction might be similar or even more intense weighs heavily on me. I gather all my courage and head to our usual meeting spot.

When I arrive at Erik and Charles, they are sitting together in our favorite room at school, deeply engaged in conversation. Their faces light up when they see me, but I can detect the concern in their eyes.

“Hey, is everything okay, love?” Erik asks as he notices me and momentarily turns away from Charles.

I sit down with them and try to collect my nervous thoughts. “I need to tell you something important,” I begin, my voice trembling. “It’s something that... well, it’s going to change a lot,” I say nervously.

Charles and Erik look at each other, their expressions becoming serious. “What’s going on, Darling?” Charles asks, concerned.

“I’m pregnant,” I finally say, the sentence coming heavily from my lips. “I wanted you to hear it from me before it becomes even more difficult.”

The words hang heavily in the air. Erik and Charles look at me, their eyes widening in shock and disbelief. “How... how long?” Erik finally asks, his voice rough.

“For a few weeks,” I answer quietly. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I was sure, but I just didn’t know how to do it.”

Charles stands up and starts pacing the room, his nervousness evident. “This is... this is big news,” Charles finally says, his voice rough with emotion.

Erik runs his hand through his hair, his face lined with worry. “How do you feel about it?” he asks gently.

“I’m overwhelmed and don’t know exactly how to handle all of this,” I say, my voice breaking. “I just wanted to make sure you know and that we can find a solution together.”

Charles comes over and sits next to me. “We’re here for you, no matter what happens. It will be challenging, but we’ll get through it together,” Charles says determinedly.

Erik nods in agreement and places his hand on mine. “It’s a big responsibility, and we’ll make sure you’re not going through this alone. We’re a team, and that won’t change,” Erik smiles.

Despite the initial shock, I feel a sense of relief as I see the support in their eyes. The situation is far from easy, but the fact that we have each other gives me hope and strength.

“Thank you,” I say softly as I lean into Erik and Charles and hug them both gently. “I know this isn’t easy, but I hope we can find a way to handle it together.”

Erik and Charles hug me back, and we sit together in quiet agreement. It’s clear that a challenging time lies ahead, but together, we will find a way to navigate this new phase in our lives.

[good-beanswrites]

And a sort of alternate version for the last Fuuta/cry prompt, from a normal au that lives in my brain -- some hurt/comfort with Mappi :')

Mahiru hummed as she stirred. The apartment was filled with the wonderful aroma of her cooking. A door around the corner clicked. Perfect timing, she thought with a smile.

She hadn’t been sure Fuuta would wake up in time for dinner. He’d been out cold ever since she picked him up from his dorm room. Well, he’d probably recount it as kidnapping, since he was in no state to actually agree to come along. But that was the very reason she’d dragged his weak form out of there – no one at the school had noticed that calls stopped going through to him, or that his social media pages all vanished overnight, or that he’d stopped attending classes. When Mahiru finally made her way to his dark, trash-piled room, she discovered him with a 39 degree fever and rambling frantically about death. She needed to take matters into her own hands.

And that’s exactly what she did. Fuuta could hardly keep food down, after his diet of instant meals, energy drinks, and painkillers (if the discarded containers around his room were any clue), so she replaced them with homemade soups and teas. She traded his rumpled bed for her own, which was sweet-scented and well-lit. Mikoto had even helped with a change of pajamas for him. 

Mahiru had taken the liberty of calling Fuuta’s sister to let her know the situation, though it was difficult to find her information without Fuuta’s phone. She couldn’t find it anywhere in his dorm. She’d also given Shidou a call, and he’d stopped by the first day to check in. He said Fuuta should be more coherent by day three, at least.

Mahiru could always count on him for reliable information. Sure enough, soft steps approached from behind. 

“Good to see you, sleepyhead~” She smiled over her shoulder. Though in a better state than when she found him, Fuuta was still a bit of a mess. He looked pale and thin in Mikoto’s clothes, which were already big on him. His eyes were bleary. Strands of bright hair stuck out at all angles. His expression was dull, taking in the cozy apartment. 

“Mahiru made your favorite for dinner! I bet you’re hungry.”

“I… don’t want it… ” His expression was uncharacteristically blank. 

Mahiru giggled; he must be really tired to be denying food. “Oh, of course you do!”

“No, you… you don’t understand…” 

“Come take a seat, it’s ready now.”

He took a step forward. “Mahiru…”

“You should be more careful, Fuuta-kun! Next time you come down with something, you should really let somebody know. It’s a miracle I came and found you in time, hm?”

She spun to set things on the table. The pride in her masterpiece faded away as his expression twisted up. His hands drifted up shakily to his face, and he started to sob. 

“Fuuta-kun!”

Mahiru hurried to him. His knees gave out as she wrapped her arms around him. He leaned down into her, his breath hitching and hiccupping as he tried to tell her something. “You shouldn’t… if you knew what I… I…” 

“Shhh, hey. Shhh...”

After a moment of broken phrases and body-wracking sobs, he regained his balance and pulled away from her. There was a look in his eyes Mahiru had seen in the last few days, when he was trying to talk through his delirium. She’d chalked it up to feverishness, but she now saw that this raw, revolted horror was something real. 

“I fucked up.”

The simple sentence sent him into a fresh wave of panic. He tried to step backwards and hide his face away, but she tugged his sleeve backward. Normally she wouldn’t be able to forcibly move him anywhere, but for the second time, he was too weak to stop her.

“Just breathe,” she said. “You can tell me.”

Mahiru had known Fuuta for long enough to hear the range of his voice – the excited chatter, the snarky muttering, the grating yelling. In all that time, she’d never once heard him sound like this. His words cracked and wobbled. Sometimes it was so hushed that Mahiru had to press her ear closer just to understand.

And by the time he finished, she understood why.

“I didn’t know,” he kept repeating. “I’d never h-have done it if… if…”

“It’s okay,” was all Mahiru could repeat in turn, through her own tears. It wasn’t quite the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, either. It was what Fuuta needed to hear, and that’s all that mattered.

“I just want to take it back… but there’s no way… What am I – what am I supposed to do?” 

“We’ll figure it out, alright? It’ll be okay.” She guided him around. “Let’s get you back to bed, okay? I’ll bring the food in to you.”

He paused. His teary eyes studied her in bewilderment. “W-why?”

“Eh? Well how else are you supposed to eat from there…?”

“No, I mean,” he swallowed hard. “Why would you do that? You… you don’t hate me…?” 

“Oh, Fuuta-kun.”

She wrapped her arms around him again. This time, he willingly returned the gesture. He grabbed onto her for dear life, and Mahiru was suddenly struck with just how much of a miracle it really had been, that she’d found him in the state he was. 

She held him close, one palm spread on his back, the other twisted through his hair. 

“Not at all. Now, let me feed you something, okay?”

“... Okay.”

[lirarey]

See you again (chapter 4 — ending)

That evening, Jane anxiously sorted through her things, trying to put her thoughts in order. The girl is frankly not used to talking about such difficult topics. What if everything goes badly and everyone decides that she's crazy?..

"You're not crazy," it sounded behind her, "but I still wonder what's going on."

Jane turned around with a start. The last phrase happened to be spoken out loud. Carlos was standing in the doorway of her room.

"I understand that everyone sometimes wants to be alone..." The guy broke off, and she remembered that one of his fears had always been loneliness. Without realizing it, Jane was hurting him even more. "But you weren't even here at your own birthday party. And you stopped practicing magic altogether. Something happened?"

"Magic is dangerous. Even for me," she replied quietly. "Mom was right."

"You never thought that. What happened?"

"I was in reality where you're dead!" Blue flames flared up from the surge of strong emotions on her fingertips, and Jane abruptly clenched her hands into fists, calming down. "Because of this, the magic is completely out of control. What kind of fairy am I if I can't even figure out my essence?"

"Did I dead?.." He took a tentative step forward. "Another reality? Little star, what are you talking about?"

"I've been living in another one all this year. The reality where you died shortly after my birthday. One day you didn't wake up. Cardiac arrest in sleep caused by a decrease in heart rate." Turning away, Jane ran her palm over the frame of the floor mirror, but pulled her hand away, feeling the familiar tingling in her fingers. "I've never seen more mourning in Auradon in my entire life. Even those who didn’t fully approve of the opening of the barrier expressed regret. So many people gathered... Mal tried to hide her tears, but there was a tremor in her voice. Evie came without makeup for the first time. She was visibly shaking, and Doug was holding her elbow. Jay and Lonnie came up later: they couldn't find Dude anywhere. Who would have thought that he would jump into my arms. He whined so quietly. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Even Ben didn't finish his speech. Everyone was shocked."

Carlos froze, listening intently to her every word. Now he looked strangely like a Dalmatian, which his mother disliked so much. All the muscles were tense, except for the wide-open eyes. She talked and talked, recalling the smallest details, not shutting up, afraid to stumble and see disbelief in his reaction. The fire in her hands flared up every now and then, but she had to restrain himself.

"Jane," Carlos crossed the small distance between them and took the tips of his fingers, still hot from the magical fire, in his palms, "Take a deep breath. I believe you."

It's amazing how just three words can affect a person. A wave of relief swept through her body.

"I really felt bad that day. You know, it feels like your heart is falling down... I woke up because of Dude." A grin broke through the serious tone. "He said that he was hungry and offered to have a snack. I didn't feel like sleeping anymore, so I agreed. In the morning, I didn't even remember what had happened. Considering your words, the picture is starting to take shape."

"To take shape?.."

"Yes. I can't know the exact reason, but it's not for nothing that many villains were brought back to life for the sake of being imprisoned on the Isle." Carlos smiled bitterly, closing his eyes. "Maybe no matter what I do, I'll always be a villain."

A villain. Of course. How Jane didn't figure it out before? There're almost no people left who would treat guests from the Isle badly, but after all, long-term habits aren't so easy to eradicate. To live for years in a place where you don't want to go back. To find salvation only in the company of the same unhappy children. Uma criticized Ben at the time for not fully fulfilling his intentions to study the villainous descendants in Auradon, but Jane didn't forget how many problems there were with Mal, Evie, Carlos and Jay. Local students seemed to enjoy the opportunity to mock those who didn't really touch others. And, oh, horror, she was once among the abusers. A wonderful continuation of the parents came out of them. Her own birthday came under the hot hand of Audrey, who decided to join the other side. But the girl didn't want to look for the culprits, although Ben apologized for a very long time when everything was resolved, and even allocated money for a new event.

"No, you're not a villain. Everyone chooses their own side." Jane finally hugged him tightly, feeling the gusts of magic subside. "But villains can also love."

"Yes... Yes, they can," the guy repeated absently. "Because I love you."

Her heart skipped a beat. The girl knew about the existence of different languages of love, and his was definitely somewhere between actions and gifts. However, he never talked about feelings just like that. Compliments were undoubtedly present, although Jane didn't believe that she deserved all of them, but declarations of love happened in the most valuable moments.

"To be honest," she said in a broken voice, "deep down I believed that this was how it should be. That I can't love, therefore... when you... as a punishment..."

"Shhh, hush." Carlos pulled away, kissed her gently on the forehead and touched her face with his palms. "If I can be a villain who loves a heroine, then you can't only create other people's stories, but also take part in your own."

"What a heroine I am... I was just doing what I had to do," Jane replied sheepishly, not looking at him.

"My heroine." His words made her skin crawl. "A heroine who also needs rest."

"Don’t go," escaped her lips. "I understand that this is very unwise, but..."

"I'm not leaving," the guy replied with a hint of a grin. "If you promise not to tell anyone about this. I don't even want to know what the Fairy Godmother will think of me."

"Mom already thinks only good things about you!"

"Everything can change!"

And so, with jokes and tears of joy, this long day ended. But it was worth waiting for its end, at least for the opportunity to fall asleep in Carlos's arms. Touch the black and white hair, look at all the freckles on the face and listen to the measured heartbeat. It was here, at this moment, that Jane felt she could trust him completely. Maybe fate really gave them a second chance at their future together? Now the girl really believed in the personal "and they lived happily ever after."

☆☆☆

Thank you for reading this fanfic. I can't help but think that these two deserve a happy ending. Just like Cameron deserved it. This is a bright, sincere star that is probably shining at us from the sky right now. Many actors spoke well of him, and this isn't surprising.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Francis Drake Main Story

This is a rough translation. I’ll edit this if I find the time. Expect mistakes.

Drake stopped me, and I followed his lead and got into the boat.

Drake: "On your right is a very nice tower."

Mitsuki: "Hehe, that's the Eiffel Tower."

Drake: "That's right, the Eiffel Tower."

Just as he said himself, he hadn't yet memorized all the sights in Paris, so his tour was a bit clumsy. However, I found it enjoyable how carefree he was.

Mitsuki: "What you see over there is the building of the Paris Expo. I went there before with everyone from the mansion."

Drake: "Yeah, they're having a huge festival-like event."

Mitsuki: "It was fun. Let's go together next time. Vincent's studio is also around there."

Mitsuki: "Okay, next. The theater over there often performs Shakespeare's plays. Wait, why does it seem like I'm the one giving the tour?"

Drake: "Haha! You're amazing. I'm learning a lot from you."

He stopped rowing the oar and narrowed his eyes.

Drake: "This city holds a lot of memories for you and the folks at the mansion, huh?"

Mitsuki: "Yup. I was able to get used to and enjoy the lifestyle of the 19th century, thanks to everyone."

Drake: "Do you like this world?"

Mitsuki: "Yes, I do."

When I first time-traveled here, I was bewildered by the differences in time and culture. But now, the people I've met have become dear to me, and this world has become a place I belong to. So much so that I was willing to live here.

(But…)

Drake: "Then why the gloomy face?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

I lifted my slightly lowered face and saw him staring intently at me.

Drake: "Don't you realize? You seem to enjoy talking about this city and the people in the mansion, but sometimes you look a little sad."

(I promise not to feel down, and yet...)

He saw through my expression that I didn't even notice myself. He leaned his elbow on his knee and looked up at me, resting his chin on his hand.

Drake: "If you're carrying something, you can let it out here. You've been around here for a while, so it might be hard to talk to everyone at the mansion about it."

Mitsuki: "........"

Prompted by his gaze, I opened my lips.

Mitsuki: "It's true that I love this world."

Mitsuki: "But the more I think that way, the more I feel guilty about it."

Drake: "Guilty?"

Mitsuki: "Because my loved ones are in my world."

Family and friends. I had left everything from my past behind as I stepped through that door.

I really gave it my all to stay positive, but those lingering attachments and regrets kept dragging me down, making it difficult for me to start over.

Mitsuki: "I felt like I was betraying my world by accepting that I couldn't go home."

(Despite being treated well by everyone, I keep looking back repeatedly.)

(I'm so half-hearted.)

I clumsily let all the worries that had accumulated in my chest out into words, and he listened without saying anything.

Mitsuki: "Sorry you have to hear me talk like this."

Drake: "It's fine."

Drake: "You're ridiculously kind."

Mitsuki: "What?"

Drake: "You're worried that you're betraying someone."

Drake: "I've seen plenty of people get angry and sad because they've been betrayed, but you're different."

He said it as if he were in front of something mysterious.

Mitsuki: "I don't want to betray anyone because it would destroy the precious bond we've built."

Drake: "Bonds, huh?"

Drake: "No matter how strong your bonds are, there's always a chance the other person might betray you."

He looked at me and spoke again.

Drake: "I understand that your world is important, but it sounds like it's become a burden for you."

Mitsuki: "It's not a burden at all."

Drake: "You sure? The only things that come out of your mouth are thoughts of betrayal, guilt, and a sense of wrongdoing."

Drake: "You haven't forgotten or discarded that world. You're continuing to carry it while making excuses about being unable to do anything to comfort yourself."

(.......)

The words he said hit me like a knife.

He straightened himself up, and the wind rustled his hair and the feathers on his hat.

Drake: "If it's really important, even if you're apart and even if you can't meet, those feelings won't change and will remain just as strong."

Drake: "You should be proud that you have many important and irreplaceable things."

Drake: "It's your life. No matter how you choose to live, it won't be a betrayal."

(It won't be a betrayal?)

His straightforward words flowed like water into my chest, making all the worries and hesitations disappear.

Drake took off his hat and gently placed it on my head.

Drake: "Well, unlike you, I've always had this burning desire to get back at my enemies."

He playfully patted my head through the hat and smiled.

Drake: "If you're always thinking about those people and sacrificing your desires, you'll miss out on life."

Drake: "Or are there people among those 'important ones' who would call your way of living a betrayal?"

Mitsuki: "No! I'm sure no one would say something like that."

Drake: "Haha! You said it confidently."

Drake: "In that case, you should choose the path you believe in."

Drake: "In my opinion, living in a way that goes against your own wishes is the real betrayal."

Mitsuki: "Drake..."

(Even if I choose my way of life, my feelings toward those important to me won't change. I won't betray them.)

I traced those words in my heart once more, and my heart felt lighter.

(As he says, rather than being trapped in regret and guilt...)

I should cherish what's important and stay true to my feelings.

I reflected on my feelings and placed my hand firmly on my chest.

Drake: "I just had an idea. Why don't we throw some bottled messages in the ocean next time?"

Mitsuki: "A message in a bottle? The one where you put a letter in a bottle and throw it into the ocean?"

The letter was then carried away by the waves, never knowing when or to whom it would be delivered.

Drake: "Yeah, that. If we use it, the letter won't get destroyed."

Drake: "The ocean goes on forever, after all."

Mitsuki: "That's true. Thank you, Drake."

The smile he gave me was kind of glowing.

I squinted my eyes without knowing if it was because of the reflection of the light on the river's surface or because of my own feelings.

(A message in a bottle, huh? That feels like a dream.)

I hoped that one day I could make it come true with him by my side.

(Talking to Drake made me feel lighter, as if something I had been holding in my chest was flowing away.)

"You're continuing to carry it while making excuses about being unable to do anything to comfort yourself."

What he said earlier really stung. But his typical words and aloof smile freed me from the cycle of emotions.

(It's all thanks to him.)

I tried to thank him again but found him staring at the river.

Drake: "But I think it's amazing that you can think about someone or the world you've lived in."

Drake: "I'll probably never understand that in my lifetime."

He spoke in a hushed, mumbling tone, and his eyes had a cold light in them, giving off a chilling sense of vulnerability.

(Drake?)

Drake: "Well, I’m sure you’ll be fine, so you don’t need to worry about it."

Drake: "Real betrayal is much more merciless."

He suddenly wore a dazzling smile, quite different from before, and casually uttered those words.

(Does that mean he has experienced that before?)

Drake: "Even so, you're quite mysterious."

Mitsuki: "Huh? Is there something strange about me? I think I'm pretty normal."

Drake: "That's what's strange about it. You time-traveled, lived with vampires, and got caught up in ridiculous destinies, but you're just an ordinary girl."

Drake: "You worry, you laugh—you're just a normal pretty lady."

Mitsuki: "........."

My heart skipped a beat at his gentle smile.

Drake: "Maybe that's the sort of person who's destined to make a difference."

Mitsuki: "Drake?"

He suddenly leaned forward, his smile vanishing.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[wachtelspinat]

Heya~

I often find it very difficult to find the right words, so I apologize in advance if any of what I have to say sounds dry or wrong, but I write it from the heart, I promise🧡

I know how you feel now and how much you get lost when that realization comes along. I learn art all my life, but I don’t succeed anywhere. No matter how long I try to do it, I still keep thinking “well I’m not good enough”. To be honest it scares the shit out of me every day, because if I’ll give up here… well there’s nothing I can do for life than. When I was in school, I was desperately clung to every fandom I had as my last hope to get rid of bad thoughts and I found those two silly characters that stole my heart immediately so of course it’s weird to say but since then Overwatch has become my “home”. It was not the perfect game but it was fun until Ow2 was released. Even if my love for OW is died, I understood that Junkrat and Roadhog took a much more bigger part in my live that I could ever imagine. I thought it was stupid, like come on that’s just a characters from the old and dead game but it turns out they’re not just characters, but in a way, my family or friends that helped me go through a lot of dark times, so it’s okey to love them deeply even if they are not real~

I always wondered, why do I make art? Is it what I really like and enjoy? Is it cost all the struggles and tears? But I found you and I fall in love with your arts immediately. I could have a really bad day in university but then I remember how I just go to your page to rewatch, for only gods knows how many times, your works. I love everything about them, how you can build a perfect shape with just one line, how many expressions and ideas your works have. Your knowledge of the anatomy is just… freaking olympic🤌🏻✨ you gave me the second breath in my path of an artist because looking at your works I was wondering if I ever be able to achieve such a high level and here I’m speaking not only about arts with Junkrat and Roadhog, I speak about every single one that I could find🧡 and I understood that art in general have much much more power in it that anyone thinks. It gives hope, inspiration, safety, emotions and so on~ even without knowing it, you can make another person’s life a little better.

All I wanted to say is - you are a fantastic person, highly talented and hard working. I’m sure everyone who follows your work will support every of your decision. I just wanted to say a big thank you from myself personally for everything you do🧡

hey ! i'm really sorry that it took me so long to respond, last week was just hell on earth. the sheer amount of words you put into this hit me right in the heart, and what you said made me tear up even more.

having a really hard time here to form my words, not only because my brain feels so fried, but because your ask is so sincere and i don't think i can possibly thank you enough. it's so weird, there is this constant battle in my head that everything is futile and trivial and i'm having a hard time seeing some kind of point behind my actions (not only art related). on the other hand, i know that WE give meaning to something. that it's the small things that tends to move mountains. i don't know if i'm making any sense here. point is. by telling me that - in my opinion - my irrelevant art has given you sth, if it's just a smile, new energy to try sth yourself, inspiration... you are shaking my world. and i'm grateful for that in a way i cannot describe.

and seriously, i don't know why we make art. because as you mentioned yourself it is always connected with doubts and despair. before i entered graphic design school back when i was super young i thought drawing was me. the one integral part that made me so ~special~. just to learn that a bunch of people draw, all around the world, and they often draw even better than i could ever achieve! in the last months of being in university i relied a lot on defining myself through my art again. because it immensely helped with my self-concept when everything around me just felt like i wasn't good enough. i'm kind of re-learning again that doing art is not the one thing that defines me. because i tend to heavily lean into that. it is after all the one thing i actually like about myself.

so yeah, thank you so much for reaching out. i love your art and the love you put into it, so i'm hoping that - despite the struggles we all share while being creative - you continue to draw, as so will i <3

(and junkrat and roadhog, man... yeah they're not just characters, they stopped being just characters from a game a long time ago for me. i know i'm a broken record at this point BUT their codependency and independency, the balance between grit and gross and sweet and off-kilter, sweat, tears, blood and some ice-cream on the side, begrudging and thankful - it seems stupid to me too because i know most people just see these comic relief mad max rip-offs but every time i think about their dynamics and some of the stories i've read in fan works it grips my heart and i think "holy shit i love them so. much." - i'm still not done drawing them by a long shot i think, it just feels like i've reached a dead end of some kind? because with little time at hand and even less energy left i struggle to form my thoughts into drawings. but i'm working on that. i'm working on doing some kind of tribute, like a zine with my art from 2016 up to today and some more stuff i've yet to draw (had this idea since 2022 and i've just recently learned SO MUCH about zine making and printing and i finally started putting the first files together). because that feels right, like a proper "here look at this i hope this explains why i love them so much")

[the-fiction-witch]

I Couldn't Find The Words to Say P2

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sad + Sweet Word Count - 2034

Part one

As I made my way towards my car, I could feel my heart pounding with both nervousness and excitement. My stomach was a battlefield, with mixed emotions waging war within me. Despite the heavy rain and the dreary atmosphere, I got into my car and began driving through the wet streets of New York. The sound of the raindrops hitting the roof of my car was calming, but I still felt uneasy.

Finally, I pulled up behind the blue beetle. Memories of that fateful night when I watched its taillights disappear through the rain came flooding back, causing my stomach to turn. But I composed myself and grabbed my bag, making sure to take my white umbrella with me to keep the rain from drenching my Y/h/C hair.

As I stepped out of the car, I could feel the cold raindrops hitting my face, causing me to shiver. I was determined to face whatever was ahead, no matter how difficult it may be. Despite the rain, I closed my umbrella and carefully walked down the stairs, trying not to slip on the wet and slippery steps. I could feel the foul-smelling dampness of the basement, which made me feel uneasy. As I reached the metal door, I hesitated for a moment, feeling overwhelmed by fear. But I took a deep breath and forced myself to knock three times, hoping that someone would answer. The sound of my knocking echoed through the basement, making me feel even more anxious. I waited nervously, every second feeling like an eternity, until finally, the door creaked open, revealing the person I had been waiting for. Benny stood before me, appearing disheveled and exhausted. He was barefoot and wearing black jeans without a belt. His white button-down shirt was partially unbuttoned and rolled up at the sleeves, revealing his forearms. Underneath the shirt, he had on a black t-shirt to keep out the cold. His chains clinked against his shirt as he shifted his weight nervously. On his trembling yellow-stained fingers, I noticed several rings. His hair was messy and matted, and his facial hair was unkempt and in dire need of a trim. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, and I could see the pain and exhaustion etched on his face.

The scent of the apartment hit me - cigarette smoke, beer, and lemon fresh air freshener in an attempt to cover up the other two. Despite the air freshener, there was a lingering stench in the apartment that made it clear that Benny had not been keeping up with his cleaning.

Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, both of us were at a loss for words. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable, as we both tried to process what had happened.

I embraced him tightly, wrapping my arms around his neck, and buried my nose into his chest. As I did so, I could feel his own arms envelop me, pulling me in closer. It was a tender and emotional moment, as I sensed his tears falling onto the strands of my hair. It was a powerful reminder of the depth of his emotions and the trust he had placed in me to share this vulnerable moment.

I sat in my chair, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. My mind was racing, but I couldn't seem to find the words to express my thoughts. The only sound in the room was the sound of rain and thunder outside, punctuated by the occasional crack of lightning.

I looked over at Y/n, who was sitting on the ottoman across the room. She had refused my offer to swap seats, opting instead for the ottoman. She looked stunning in her little white dress with a black belt cinched tightly around her waist. Her sheer tights hugged her legs, and her little white sneakers looked brand new.

As I took in her appearance, I noticed that her face was free of makeup, revealing how red her eyes were from crying. Her Y/h/C hair was pulled back into a braid, hiding how dirty it really was.

Feeling nervous, I reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table and pulled one out. My hands were shaking as I lit it with my lighter from the ashtray stand. I tossed the pack back onto the table, and it made a loud thud as it hit the wood.

The sound seemed to break the silence in the room, prompting Y/n to speak. "I thought you gave up?"

"I did. I gave in again," I tried to put it as a joke but it just made it sound worse,

She nodded and didn't speak again, so I did.

"You look beautiful Y/n,"

"Thank you," She nodded, "You look like shit."

"I feel like shit." I nodded, "Silence isn't going to get us anywhere... that much is obvious." I began, "You know I love you. Still. You know I'm sorry. What can I say? That I've picked up the phone a thousand times... I've trial to dial your number but never once have I had the strength to do it... please believe me."

"I do believe you... cause I did the same," she nodded, "I think about you all the time, but... It's no excuse."

"But it still means everything to me, I... I am so sorry... I wish I never said what I did, I wish I never made you cry I am... Haunted! by the memory of you, of the space between what was meant to be. It's pretty clear the mess that I've turned into without you." I trembled fighting back tears with every word, "Please... whatever you have to say to me, Please... find the words to say."

"What can I say?" She asked, "Beyond what has been said, I know we were both to blame and now I feel I'm left with an empty heart filled with regret. But... I want to fix this. if you do?"

"I want to... I need to.." I nodded,

Y/n nodded in agreement and walked over to the pillows I use as a makeshift sofa. I scooted over and sat beside her. As she joined me, she took the cigarette from my hand and extinguished it on the cold, hard concrete floor. I felt a sudden urge to hold her close, so I took her hand in mine and held it tightly, hoping to provide her with some sense of comfort and reassurance. Our hands were intertwined, and I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine. We sat there in silence, enjoying each other's company and the peacefulness of the moment.

As we finally reunited, I eagerly reached out to hold his hand with a tight grip. The sensation of his warm skin against mine was like a balm to my soul, and I held onto him tightly, savoring the moment of being together again. We stood there, lost in the moment, the silence between us filled with the unspoken words of our shared experiences. The peace of the moment enveloped us, and we both savored the company of one another, lost in the joy of being reunited.

"Tell me... about that night. In your mind." He asked,

I nodded even if it was hard, "We went to the bar and had a few drinks, I wanted to dance and you said no. I begged but you told me to go dismissively," I began,

He went to speak but stopped himself, "Carry on,"

"So I went to dance, some guy came to dance with me at first... I thought he was you given how handsy he was,"

"You did?"

"I did, when I saw it wasn't I pushed him away and danced on my own."

"...I... I never saw you dancing on your own,"

"No, cause when I looked back at you I saw you talking to that girl,"

"You were dancing on your own when I was talking to her," He nodded making sense of that moment, "I thought you just kept dancing with him... I didn't know you- I'm sorry Y/n,"

"It's okay" I nodded, "When I saw you ignoring me and chatting with her I danced with him again, because I was being dumb and silly trying to make you jealous it was stupid and childish... I'm sorry Benny," I explained,

"It's okay, Y/n," He reassured,

"When I saw her kiss you I stormed off."

"Understandable," He nodded, "That... makes a lot more sense to me now."

"What about you? what happened in your mind?"

"We went for drinks, we had maybe a few more than we should."

"I felt okay,"

"Then I had more drinks than I should, I don't know about you in yourself but... I wasn't good, I was a few drinks too deep. and honestly, I think you might have been one or two too?"

"Maybe," I nodded,

"And when you were asked to dance I... I just let you go I wanted you to be happy and you know I don't like dancing I... I didn't mean for it to come off dismissive Y/n,"

"Well, It felt that way at the time,"

"And I'm sorry, I should have been clearer that, I just wanted you to be happy and have fun without me. So I kept an eye on you and watched you dancing and having fun and Yes I admit I got jealous when I saw that guy dancing with you, Made me want to go dance with you. Kick his teeth in for having his hands all over you. But I was being foolish too, I should have just spoken to you. I never saw you move away from him cause this girl took your seat, I told her I had a girlfriend but I think she was too drunk to care. When I looked back again and saw you dancing with him I got so jealous, so angry, and when she kissed me... I admit I kissed her back, but I regretted it as soon as it happened. I never wanted to kiss her but... I still did it. I hope you can forgive me?"

"Why did you kiss her back?"

"I was angry, I was jealous, I was drunk. That's not an excuse I know... but I regretted it and I promise I will never do something like that again. When I saw you go it broke my heart, and ... I shouldn't have said what I did. Please can you ever forgive me?"

"... I can." I nodded, "I think we were both just being immature, stupid, and too much to drink, I do trust you, Benny."

"I trust you too Y/n," he nodded, "We shouldn't have let our emotions get the better of us, we should have just come back here and.. done this."

I nodded, "chatted, talked it out like grown-ups."

"You still love me?"

"Of course I do," I smiled, "You still love me?"

"I never stopped for a moment," he nodded, "I am sorry."

"I'm sorry too,"

"Do you think... you'd want to stay tonight? and maybe consider moving back in with me? No rush. and no pressure of course. Whenever you're ready."

"I would like to stay tonight," I nodded, "But... would you be open to moving in with me?"

"I'd like that a lot," He nodded, and he took my cheek in his hand caressing my skin softly, "May I kiss you?"

"You may Benny," I nodded,

As we leaned toward each other, I felt my heart race with anticipation. Finally, our lips met, and it was as if time stood still. The kiss was slow and gentle, yet passionate, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of completeness in that moment. I had missed this so much. We continued to kiss softly and sweetly for a few moments, savoring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. As we pulled back, we rubbed our noses slightly, sharing a tender moment of affection. It was a beautiful moment, and it left me feeling grateful and content.

"I love you so much, my sweet angel,"

"I love you too my darling," 

[shawnhills]

first of all, shawn wasn't a bad guy, he was the type of a person who'd get along with everyone and make every single person around him very comfortable; yes, he had a lot of friends and was always hanging out with them, but now? he had made a big mistake. he's been friends with hailee for over ten years now and even though they did flirted all the time, he thought it wasn't fair at all what he did to nessa, she didn't deserve any of the shit he did and he was ready to talk to her. nessa's sister, roni, was mad at him as well and he felt like he wasn't welcome at their house anymore, which was completely understandable. but shawn didn't want to leave without talking to nessa first. and that's when he put his black hoodie on, sighed as he got up from the bed and took a deep breath as he got ready to go to nessa's room.

shawn hesitated outside nessa's room, his heart pounding with the weight of guilt and regret. he knew he had to face her, to own up to his mistake, no matter how difficult it might be. with a deep breath, he knocked softly on her door, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. as nessa opened the door, her expression a mix of surprise and concern, shawn's resolve wavered momentarily. but he couldn't back down now. stepping into her room, he felt the tension in the air, heavy and palpable. "20 minutes, right?" he asked, his hands on his pockets as he looked at nessa. he was trying to find the words to say because he new he fucked up and was feeling like shit about the whole situation. yet, despite the pain, shawn knew he had to make things right. "i know you read the gossip and i know i made a mistake. i came to la to be with you, not with anyone else, not even my friends, but..." he paused for a few seconds. "i'm sorry, nessa, i'm such a fucking idiot and you don't deserve any of the shit i did." he spoke with sincerity, his voice raw with emotion as he apologized for betraying her trust. // @nessmerrells