#i just feel like i don't have enough hours in a day to study LMAO

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.” 

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.” 

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice,  he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments. 

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else. 

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve. 

“No. Don’t worry about it.” 

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?” 

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using. 

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Well obviously something’s wrong.” 

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?” 

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?” 

“I’m not upset!” 

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-” 

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him. 

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon. 

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?” 

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins. 

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.” 

“It’s not a joke.” 

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time. 

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you. 

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-” 

“I didn’t get in.” 

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke. 

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock. 

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?” 

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!” 

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has. 

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.” 

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand. 

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation. 

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say. 

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?” 

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.  

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds. 

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” 

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-” 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.” 

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive. 

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest. 

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to. 

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear. 

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you. 

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you. 

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed. 

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?” 

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving. 

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.” 

“Where?” 

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace. 

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.” 

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for. 

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified. 

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.” 

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home. 

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers. 

“You promise you’ll come home, right?” 

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too. 

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything?” 

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness. 

“Anything.” 

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.” 

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did. 

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.” 

Frankie, Present 

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point. 

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings. 

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you. 

Well, he can’t think about you as much. 

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him. 

He let you take the first  shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run. 

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you. 

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!” 

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.” 

“You barely run the mile in gym class.” 

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.” 

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you. 

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to. 

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans. 

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day. 

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement. 

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.” 

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings. 

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.” 

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.” 

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.” 

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.  

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).” 

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past. 

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible. 

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him. 

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer. 

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school. 

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too. 

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school. 

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble. 

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed. 

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to. 

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him. 

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”  

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage. 

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment. 

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him. 

August 18th, 2006

Frankie, 

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage. 

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe 

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL. 

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person! 

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha). 

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo. 

From, 

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line. 

October 13th, 2009

Frankie, 

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe. 

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet. 

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do. 

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.  

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie. 

Kenzie 

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. 

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong. 

February 4th, 2011

Hey, 

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways. 

I guess I’ll see you when I see you. 

MacKenzie 

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business. 

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull. 

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done? 

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[insurged]

super short starter calls 💖 (also screw borders, i just like the ol' fashioned box square since i'm square brain)

[rueclfer]

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him. 

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.” 

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

-

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork. 

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

-

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

-

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls. 

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes. 

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood. 

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose. 

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words. 

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

-

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku. 

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?” 

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time. 

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

-

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment. 

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all. 

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

-

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

-

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. 

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together. 

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.” 

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?” 

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

-

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

[hyunniesgirl]

oooh Slytherin!hyunjin gives amortentia to reader after she rejects him so many timesss and after the effect gone she found out and mad oooh angst angst idk happy ending hahahahhahahaa (sorry for my bad grammar)

So this ask got me super excited!!! I love writing fantasy so count me in, babes! Please ignore any mistakes since I stopped reading Harry Potter in the forth book and just settled for the movies lmao

Here are some spells used in the story that may be confusing for my sweeties that are not into harry potter:

¹Amortentia: it's the most powerful love potion, it can't reproduce real love and it comes with dangerous side effects like a powerful infatuation or obsession. It smells differently to each person, like the things(or people) the person who's feeling the scent likes.

²Cruciatus: a spell(curse) used to torture people.

I'm using this post to celebrate reaching 200 followers 🥳, thank you for those who like what I write and keep supporting me, I'll keep working hard to bring more nice stories for you!!

I wish you would

Pairing: Slytherin!Hyunjin x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 5,120(I'm sorry about that not really I just got very inspired)

Hyunjin is obsessed with you, everyone with eyes and ears knows that. He runs after you like a dog runs after its tail and you always try being nice, try rejecting him in a way to not hurt him but he doesn't seem to take a hint.

Your class just ended, you collect your books and walk to the corridor, feeling his eyes on you.

"What's it?" You ask, turning around to look at him. His green and black uniform matching perfectly with his blond hair. He seems taken aback with the sudden attention, since he's used to you ignoring him.

"I just wanted to give you this", he smiles, holding a paper bag to you, "Felix made brownies and I just thought you'd like a snack, I know you're studying a lot for exams"

You smile, you love brownies but you're not sure if you should accept it. It's been a day since you rejected Hyunjin… again. He doesn't seem bothered by it anymore, he just keeps coming on strong and at this point you already know it's just a trait of his personality to not give up easily. But it would seem inconsiderate to not accept, since he brought it just for you.

"Don't think too much", he shake the bag a little, "I'm just trying to look out for you"

You sigh, accepting the gift and thanking him. It's not going to kill you to be nice this one time.

After saying goodbye you head to the library, you're going to meet Seungmin to study. Your classes are not that difficult this semester, so you're just using your extra time to study for the bigger exams.

It's already past dinner time when you finish your studies, your friend gave up a few hours back and went to the dorms while you stayed to study a bit more.

You're hungry so you look at the paper bag Hyunjin gave you and look inside. The brownies have a nice scent of mint? Maybe Felix added some to the recipe.

One it's not enough, it's so good you end up eating the whole lot. Maybe you shouldn't have, you feel sick instantly after finishing it and the librarian comes running as soon as she looks at your face.

"Are you alright, darling? You look pale", she asks and you nod, maybe the exhaustion is finally hitting you.

You grab your things and walk towards the dormitories of your house, you feel your mouth dry and an empty feeling on your chest. What's going on? You look around, there's very little people in the hall since it's almost curfew time.

When you're crossing the courtyard, you see a shadow of someone hovering over and you stop in your tracks trying to discern who it is.

You tighten the hold on your wand while they get closer, only to breathe relieved seeing it's just Hyunjin.

"It's already late, you shouldn't be wandering around by yourself", he says.

"Oh, I-", you feel your cheeks warm suddenly, do you have a fever? Your hands are sweating too. "Can you help me?" You ask him, stretching your hand for him to hold, your heart beating fast to the thought of touching him. "I'm not feeling very well"

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, surprised, but still takes a step closer to you, grabbing your arm with a hand and sliding his other to your waist, giving you support by embracing you entirely.

"Thanks, I don't know what came on to me", you mumble and you're not sure if he heard, until you feel him tightening the hold he has on you.

"It's okay, it's my pleasure", he whispers close to your ear and you shiver.

It's strange for you to have this kind of reaction, especially to Hyunjin. It's not that you don't like him perse, you just don't think about dating in general. You want to focus on your studies, do well on your exams and have a good career, it's your parents dream that became your dream.

His pursuit over you got boring after the fourth time you rejected him. It was fun in the beginning, he's Hwang Hyunjin after all: handsome, smart and rich, you felt special when he didn't care about all those people that would crawl after him, but would beg for just a single glance of yours. With time it started bothering you, though. It seemed like the more you rejected him, the more interested he would get.

Why did it bother you, though? It feels nice having him holding you right now, he smells like mint, his warmth is shielding you from the cold air and you think it's okay to have him by your side just for a moment.

You can't stop thinking about him, Hyunjin is the first thing in your mind when you open your eyes in the morning and the whole breakfast you spend looking for him around the great hall, thinking about what he'd like to eat and maybe if he would like to walk with you to your classes.

"Are you alright?" Seungmin's voice takes you out of your thoughts, you realize you're just staring at your food for some time now.

"Nothing", you smile slightly, "I just… do you know where Hyunjin is?"

Seungmin frowns, tilting his head to the side while analyzing you.

"Why would I know that? But most importantly, why do you want to know that?"

You sigh, going back to play with your food.

"I just miss him", you mumble, earning a gasp from your friend.

"Did you finally lose it?" He's staring at you with narrowed eyes, disgusted.

You sigh, looking around one more time and finally seeing Hyunjin entering the hall, he's talking to a girl. Who is she? Why is she smiling so much to him? Why is he smiling back at her?

Your body moves by itself, getting up and walking with heavy steps towards the entrance where Hyunjin is talking to that girl, he seems excited.

You don't like it.

"Excuse me?" You say, waiting for him to turn around. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest and a foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

He looks at you with a smile that almost makes you melt, almost. You get even angrier, did he smile like that to her too?

"Oh, y/n, what can I do for you?"

"Who is she?" You ask without even thinking, why does that matter?

"We have divination together", he answers simply, just like that, as if that was a good enough answer. He frowns in confusion when you don't say anything and keep just staring at him. "Hm, we were just talking about some crazy prophecy Trelawney came up with in the middle of our class yesterday", he finishes, hoping you're satisfied with his answer.

You take your eyes out of him, looking at the girl and lifting one eyebrow, she smiles sheepishly at you and say goodbye to Hyunjin, walking to her house's table.

"Why did you take so long?" You step closer to him, grabbing his hand and holding it with yours.

"I didn't know you were waiting", he answers, leaning closer to you with a smirk in his lips.

"Well, I'll be waiting from now on so you better get here quickly"

You turn around, facing the tables. People are staring and whispering, of course, you never gave the time of day to him, it's something unpredictable to see you being cozy.

You slide his arms over your shoulder, a message to every other person that he's yours now. You're not sure where this possessiveness is coming from but it's there and you have to make it clear.

Hyunjin didn't think the potion would actually work, he's not that good at potions. He's been trying to catch your attention for a very long time but you rejected him over and over. He could have anyone he wanted, just not you and that made him crazy in the beginning, he just wanted you more and more, he's very ambitious after all.

However, after some time, he realized his feelings were deeper than what you thought, even more than he thought.

He started noticing every little thing about you, how you frown when you concentrate too hard, how you make every little feeling of yours show in your face. How you always have to be right.

And how you didn't want anything to do with him.

He was in love with you. That made him desperate, he needed you and you kept turning him down.

So he took drastic measures, he's not sure it's the most ethical thing to do, but he's unquestionably cunning, so he would do anything to achieve his goal.

A week before he gave you the brownies, your potion's class learned how to brew amortentia and he knew he had to give it a try. He spent nights awake trying to make the perfect potion, strong enough for it to work instantly and last long enough for you to not fall out of love easily.

"Are you really going to use a love potion?" Felix asks while watching Hyunjin mix the liquid with the brownies batter.

"I need to", he answers.

"She's going to be pissed if she finds out, you know that, right?" Felix tries again, it's not easy to make Hyunjin give up when he sets his mind to something.

"At least she'll be looking at me", his answer takes Felix by surprise, he knows Hyunjin is in love with you but maybe he can't grasp the depth of his feelings.

Hyunjin decides to wait, he'll try one more time before using the charmed brownies. He sees you in the courtyard, reading. You look beautiful with your hair messed by the wind and your lips moving, pronouncing the words in the book.

"So", he starts, he always tries to be confident around you, even though every time you turn him down his self esteem takes a blow. "When are we going on that date?", he asks, sitting by your side and watching you lift your eyes out of the book to look at him.

"Hm, I don't know about that", you smile kindly. He thinks you're cute being so considerate and trying not to hurt his feelings. Maybe if you weren't so nice to him, he'd already have gotten over you.

"What do I have to do for your answer to be yes?" He asks, bending his upper body to look at your face since you're looking at the book on your lap now.

"Let's not, Hyunjin", you sigh, "you know it's always going to be no"

He swallows hard, he did wish you were harsher in your rejection but he didn't think it would hurt so much.

"I'm not going to give up", he gets up, winking at you, he's too proud to show how hurt he is. "I know you don't dislike me, so that's a win for me", he smiles at you, even though he feels like he's suffocating.

He knows your personality, if you hated the idea of him hitting on you so much, you would already have threatened to crucio him but you don't and it's not because you're too polite for that, he has seen you fight people for much less.

He goes back to the Slytherin's common room and sits in front of the fireplace. It's getting cold lately, you shouldn't stay outside so much and for so long.

He just wants you to look at him, he's sure if you just get to know him better you'll want to be with him, he'll make sure of it.

So he gives you the brownies even though he feels a bit guilty about it, it's to late to back down when he sees you already turning around the corner, heading to the library.

He's restless, not sure when you're going to eat the brownies or if you are going to actually do it, he tries playing a bit of quidditch with his friends and studying but he's too anxious to concentrate on anything other than you. So he stays close to the library, waiting for you to finish your things.

As soon as you walk by the courtyard he can tell you're sick, so he gets closer and helps you get to your common room. Did you actually ask for his help? That sounds like a dream to him, just the thought of being next to you is enough to make him the happiest person alive, feeling your warmth against his body was enough to make him melt. If you didn't need his support, he'd be laying on the floor.

After giving him a peek on the cheek and leaving him behind in the great hall, after breakfast he can feel a burning gaze and he knows exactly who it is from. Seungmin, your best friend.

You might be enchanted but he's not, and if Hyunjin doesn't give you more of the love potion, Seungmin is going to make you fall out of love, he's sure of it.

He brews more of the potion, putting it on another batch of brownies to give to you. And you love the gift, eating all of it while studying with Hyunjin in the library. You're not studying much actually, you're just looking at him and asking questions about him, what he likes to do, about his family and his friends. It's an entirely new world to have all your attention to himself, he loves it, loves to spend time with you. The longer he stays in your presence the more he's sure that he does love you, all of you.

You're feeling tired lately, you lost all the deadlines to your projects in the last two weeks and now you're having to pull all nighters to try and get them all ready before the end of the semester. You have been spending a lot of time with Hyunjin, all the time you're not in class revolves around him.

He has been giving you lots of brownies lately and you're actually getting sick of it but you don't want to be a killjoy and end up accepting it anyway, eating it when you're bored.

This was the last time you accepted it though, you're going to say that you don't want it from now on and maybe Seungmin can help you eat these ones. Your best friend is at the library, waiting for you. He's going to help you finish some details of your project.

"I brought this for you", you shake the paper bag, holding it out for him.

He opens it and looks inside.

"Why does it smells like wood?" He scowls.

"What are you talking about?" You laugh awkwardly, "it smells like mint"

He stares at you for a few seconds before gasping, his hand palming his mouth.

"That's what's wrong with you!" He gets up, throwing the paper bag in the trash and ignoring your 'hey!' in protest. "Did Hyunjin give this to you?" He asks.

"Yes, why?"

"For how long have you been eating these brownies? Did they smell like that since the first time?" He ignores your questions, he looks absolutely out of it.

"Yeah, he gave me the first one's like two weeks ago", you frown, trying to understand what he's trying to say.

"He's been giving you amortentia", he tells you, running his hand through his hair, "how did I not realize that sooner, you've been acting weird for a reason!"

You feel your heart sink, he's been doing what?

That's not possible, he would never do something like that. Right?

You gasp, looking back to the way you have been acting lately, did he really charm you? So none of the things you're feeling are really real?

You managed to stay away from him for so long and suddenly you couldn't think about anything but him, the reason was right under your nose, you can't believe you didn't notice the signs.

"How much time does it take for it to wear out?" You ask, not really remembering what the professor taught you.

"A few hours minimum, a day or two if it's strong enough", Seungmin answers, whatching you seat and look at your fingers. Your chest hurts.

"Can I stay with you tonight? The last batch he gave me was yesterday, I may be fine tomorrow morning", you want to cry, Seungmin recognizes that face. You're looking around trying to prevent the tears from falling and he wants to kill Hyunjin for that.

Seungmin has been your best friend since first year, he didn't think he would have so much in common with someone from your house, but you two just clicked. He knows you like Hyunjin but you're too focused on your future to actually see that. Every time he makes a move on you, you'll turn him down, but your friend can see your eyes lingering on his figure while he walks away, you keep looking until he disappears and then you sigh. Sometimes Seungmin even sees you giggling from something Hyunjin says and your eyes shine brighter in those moments, he's not sure how you didn't realize it yet.

After the hurt eases a bit, you start getting mad. You wake up in the morning and all you can think about is a way to murder Hwang Hyunjin. You can't believe he used you like that, like a fucking toy for him to play house with.

You see him in the corridor, he smiles looking at you and opens his arms, waiting for a hug with a big smile on his face. Disgusting, that's all you can think.

"My love"

You walk confidently to him, taking him by surprise by hitting him in the face with a mixture of punch and slap, doing the movement of a slap but hitting him with your closed fist. He bends down, touching his cheek and looking at you, betrayal in his eyes.

"You fucking asshole!" You're seeing red, you didn't think you'd feel so livid seeing him, you're so hurt, so angry.

"Babe?" He looks at you like you're the one in the wrong.

"Don't", you take a deep breath, looking around to try and ease your anger, "don't call me that. You used a fucking love potion on me? What kind of loser does that?"

He gasps, he didn't think you'd find out about it, not so soon. He was sure he could make you fall in love with him and later on he would tell you about what he did.

Hyunjin could have anyone, there are dozens of people falling on their knees for him, you just can't understand why it has to be you.

"Let me explain, yeah?" He tries, taking a step closer and trying to hold your hands but you step back, glaring even harder at him.

"Don't touch me" you say, gritting your teeth, "you're disgusting"

You turn around, seeing the amount of people looking at your fight with shocked expressions in their faces. Of course no one's going to believe he gave you a love potion, he doesn't need that, he's Hwang Hyunjin.

That makes you even angrier.

You walk fast away from there, you can't believe you have to go through this kind of thing and the worst part is, why does it hurt so much? The effects of the potion must have ended by now, then why do you feel like you can't breath? The tears run out of your eyes without your permission and the hiccups come naturally with the painful cries.

You feel tired, frustrated, overwhelmed but most of all you feel heartbroken. There's no more potion tempering with your feelings but you still feel a lot of different emotions you shouldn't be feeling. It's not possible that you really like him.

The right reaction is for you to curse him, feel mad about all he's done and hate him with all your being. But you're feeling hurt and you want to curse at him, obviously you're angry about what he's done, but you're worried about him too, maybe you were too harsh.

No.

You'll not let any feelings you have let him get away with manipulating you. If you really do like him you're just going to have to stop.

Hyunjin can't eat, can't sleep, can't study, in other words, he can't function properly. You don't speak to him, you don't look at him, you don't even aknowledge his existence.

You don't eat when he's in the great hall, you will sit in the fartest seat from him when you're in the same class and everytime he tries talking to you, your personal bodyguard, Seungmin, prevents him from doing it.

He can't live like this, Hyunjin feels like he's about to die at any moment and he just doesn't know what to do.

Felix is too nice to actually say it but he looks at Hyunjin with that 'I told you so' look and just watches again as his friend sits in his bed and spends minutes staring at nothing.

"Was it that bad?" He asks but he already knows the answer. The whole school is in uproar after you punched him in the middle of the corridor before classes started, so to say everyone knows about what happened it's an understatement.

"She's not even looking at me", Hyunjin says finally and Felix sighs, sitting by his side and patting his back.

"I think you should give her some time", Hyunjin scowls after hearing that, even though he knows his friend is probably right.

It hurts so much, even more than when you just ignored him. Because now that he felt your warmth, he can't live without it.

Since Seungmin met you, this is the first time he has to worry about you. Even when you pulled all-nighters studying or joined too many extracurricular activities, you always took care of yourself. This time though, you're not.

Your grades are back to normal and your projects are all ready a week before the deadline but at what cost? You are not sleeping properly, there are huge eyebags under your eyes and you lost weight, your hair is always a mess and your clothes are far from your usual tidy style. He knows you realized your feelings for Hyunjin and you're just trying to bury them without actually trying to understand them and he just doesn't know what to do to help you. Every time he tries talking about it, you'll brush it aside and tell him you're not in the mood for that.

The winter holidays come to you like a gift and a curse, you don't have lots of work to take care of so you can rest but you don't have lots of work to take care of so you don't have anything to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts, those ones that always end up on the same person.

You never thought it would be so hard to get over someone, in some way your brain probably knew that the moment you let someone walk past your walls it wouldn't be easy to undo the damage made. That's why you always run from Hyunjin, because it would be torturous to stay away from him after you let your feelings be known.

As the weeks go by, your anger subside a bit. You still can't forgive what he did but you miss him too much to still be mad. You were pretty confident in the first few weeks, concentrating all your energy in your classes and projects, trying to forget about him. However, the more time passed, the more you thought you actually liked him… way before the amortentia happened.

You two met each other in your first year, but you were children that didn't care about the opposite sex and it went like that till fifth year, when you two turned fifthteen and puberty just hit him like a truck over summer break. He came back taller, his voice changed a bit too and his facial expressions as a whole were sharper, more eye-catching than ever.

It wasn't different for Hyunjin, however you always caught his eye. When he was younger he thought you were cute for a girl and he has never been easy to impress. When you grew up you became so pretty he couldn't take his eyes out of you. That was the first time he ever asked someone out and the first time he was rejected, it really hurt his pride. And now, finishing your seventh year, it's the first time you're realizing that maybe he fell first but you fell harder.

The classes come back in the blink of an eye, you're not sure you're happy or sad about it since you don't know what to do with the whole Hyunjin situation.

It all gets worse when you see him in the corridor, he's looking around, fidgeting and you just know he's waiting for you.

You try walking past him, but he lifts his eyes as if he felt your presence and you see the corner of his mouth going downwards and his lips quivering.

"Can- can we talk?" He pleads, his voice shaking, it's too much for him to finally see you again, finally have you looking at him again.

You look down, trying to decide what to do and end up nodding, turning around and leading him to an empty classroom. He closes the door and watches as you wander around the class, brushing your fingers on the table's surface, avoiding looking at him.

"How are you?" He asks finally, after a few minutes of torturous, awkward silence.

"Just fine", you answer, looking at every piece of the room but not at him. You're afraid that if you look him in the eyes you're going to cave in and you just can't give in so easily.

"I'm having a really hard time", he tells you.

"Didn't ask", you stop in your tracks, annoyed with yourself because it hurts to be mean to him. "Let's get this over with", you manage to say, even though the ache in your chest is making it difficult to breathe.

He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"I- I'm really sorry about what I did, y/n, can you please forgive me?" He begs and you finally turn around, trying to keep your cool, the anger is coming again and you feel your face hot.

"Are you asking me to forgive you for tampering with my feelings? Or for pulling this shit just because you're obsessed with something you can't have?"

He frowns, it's not like that, he knows that but clearly you don't.

"Y/N, I have wanted you all the same since the beginning. I can't have anyone else, not because I'm obsessed but because I'm in love with you", he takes a step towards you, "you make me feel alive, that's why I keep trying over and over again"

You're taken aback by the confession, so shocked you don't even notice how close he got to you in a few moments but you can't let him get away from this, not when your pride is involved.

"Do you think it's fair to make someone like you just because you like them? Would you ever have told me about what you did or would you keep me like a fucking toy until you were tired of playing with me?"

He stares at you for a moment, a desperate look on his face. He wasn't trying to hurt you. He was selfish, he knows that and you have the right to not want anything to do with him anymore, but he has to try earning you back.

"I know I shouldn't have gave you a love potion, I know it's wrong and I did know you wouldn't like having your feelings messed with", he takes one of your hands and puts it in his chest, right above his heart and for the first time since you found out about what he did, you don't want to pull your hand away from his touch. "I was going to tell you, I swear, I just wanted to make you really look at me and see it was worth giving me a chance", he smiles sadly, "you are right to hate me after what I did but if you do forgive me I swear that I'll make up for it every day of our lives and I'll make you happier than you ever thought could be possible. It's going to be my goal, my mission, the biggest of my ambitions"

You sigh, it hurts. Logically, you shouldn't forgive him. But love is not logical and you want to accept his proposal. You know it's dumb and you know it's risky but never in your life did you really make a choice that you wanted to. You had to be a good student so your teachers would like you, you had to behave so your family would be proud of you, you had to have good grades so your parents would be satisfied, because they told you you needed to have the greatest career and that became your dream, but you never stopped to think about what you really wanted.

"If you didn't use the potion, would you keep trying to win me over?" You whisper, trying to decide what answer to give him.

"Yes, probably forever. Until you threatened to kill me or married someone else", he smiles, "not going to assure you I wouldn't try stealing you from your partner, but that would hold me back a little", he chuckles.

You sigh, why must you like him so much?

"I swear I'll make you regret it if you ever use any magic on me again", you say through gritted teeth, glaring at him, "and I like the thing you said about making up for it our whole lives"

A big smile grows on his lips and you feel your cheeks getting hot, how can someone be this beautiful?

"Then, will you give me another chance?" He asks in a breath.

"I'll let you take me on a date and I'll decide after that"

He smiles widely, throwing his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

"I'll make it be a yes", he whispers, squeezing you more in his embrace.

You know you'll forgive him completely soon, Hyunjin can't hide his emotions from you so you know he's telling the truth but you sure as hell are not going to make it easy for him.

[a-ikuoliver]

w/c: 0.8k tw: uh i don't 100% know what this is or what it will become, this scene was just haunting me as a daydream lmao; i imagined this with bakugou but never wrote his name lmao; f!siren reader, implied yandere

"who is she?" your voice choruses inside his head before the heavy wood has even latched closed, the chorus mostly playful, the teasing curve of your lips clear you didn’t think he’d notice one in the chorus with the mean tone, insecurity and jealousy weaved into its disembodied voice, no matter how you tried to hide it with hundreds of other voices overlapping the others, the same question on repeat.

“how did you get in here?”

“how do you know you haven’t let me in before?” aloud, your voice is even more powerful, his spine straightening minutely despite the exhaustion setting in his bones. even with his muscles fighting his instincts to remain upright, he studies you lazily, his gaze trailing over your hands; holding the book on his coffee table in the same spot he held it, his thumbs in place beneath yours just hours earlier. he wonders if he’ll be able to feel you on the pages after you leave, if your fingerprint will linger like your perfume.

there’s some kind of domesticity to it, he thinks, your hands settling in the same place as his, your comfortable pose on his couch, your insatiable need to know about him, to see inside him, your need for him to engage like a schoolgirl tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. if the schoolgirl was blood thirsty.

“so, who is she?” your tone is even, your jealousy masterfully disguised by a practised playfulness, the twinkle in your eye unmistakable when you search his face for any tells for his supposed lover. you finally stand from his couch, placing the book back in the exact spot he had it, down to the millimetre (had you been here before? would he know?), leaving your jacket on the couch, the sweet scent already seeping into the fabric. you were good at that, ensuring you were always on his mind, with your perfume, with all the criminals dazedly walking into police stations holding their own wanted flyers with his name scribbled on it beside your own. gifts, you’d called them the first time he’d caught you in the act.

“has to be someone special, hm? you’ve never left me waiting before.”

your voice is just a whisper, a tiny worm wiggling its way into his nervous system, forcing his gaze to yours (he has just enough self control to steel his eyes, to keep his face indifferent as his body fought to react, to give in). staring up at him, you carefully examine his features, the way you’re reflected in his pupils that nearly swallow his iris whole, the ring of colour proof of his stubbornness, of his power to resist your compulsion.

“there is no she, i was out cleaning up your mess.”

you raise your hands in a display of innocence you don’t deserve, slinking closer to the light he sought his shelter in.

“my mess? i convinced a criminal you’ve been searching for to walk into your agency. you should be thanking me.” the worm is more the size of a caterpillar, growing evermore with the echoing chorus of your voice, the same you’d have done to the man earlier in the evening; a tauntingly slow build up of your compulsion until it had taken hold.

his voice joined yours in ordering him, his head hurting from the resistance, thank her. thank her. thank her. thank her. squeezing his eyes shut, his lips part involuntarily, his tongue straining to speak, to form the syllables you compelled him say, “i don’t need to thank you for shit.”

his back tenses, shoulder blades pinching together in the effort to resist you, a headache forming behind his eyes the longer you stared at him; pain pulsing with every ignored syllable.

he’d given in once, the first time he saw you, before he knew how to resist. before he knew how relieving it was to give in; the sound of your honeyed voice something he craved every day since, the echo of your command like a warm stream of water rushing down his spine, the weightlessness of pleasing you, every hum of approval like a hit of nicotine.

you pout, “the others are more grateful.”

your perceived inability to break him haunts you, he can tell, you itch to feel him give in, to have a man of his power under your thumb. a toy for your entertainment. he’d give it to you, he’d tell you how he craved the feeling of your hypnosis, if he knew you’d still send him your ‘gifts’, if you’d still sneak into his house just to see the flash of shock on his face, if you’d still obsess, if he knew he wasn’t just a challenge. the unbreakable man, broken.

instead, he tries his best to keep an indifferent, slightly amused, expression firmly on his face, watching you flit about his apartment like you belonged, like you weren’t more tempting than the forbidden fruit, like submitting wasn’t a worse fate than mortality. his body screamed at him the longer you stayed near, blood, muscles bones and nerves begging to rest, to get closer, to run; the need for you prospering in the dark recesses of his mind when he takes one step closer.

“i’m not like the others.”

[acheronist]

to the ghost of henry peglar, congrats on writing your poem down 177 years ago!!!

to the actual academic scholars who have studied the pages before me....

so I took the royal museum greenwich's scan of the poem page (which is available online hereeee) and screwed around with its light levels in photoshop until henry's script was darkened enough to see more clearly. then I digitally traced over the darkened letters as best as I could, while also trying to discern his handwriting, and type up how I was reading it & this process took me about a week to get done between like... living my regular day to day life lmao.......

so when it WAS done, the final isabel acheronist peglar papers ["the open C"] transcript seemed a bit different than how I remembered the readily available russell potter transcript going ? (the poem is on the last two pages of that pdf for those of you who don't spend a billion hours a week looking at it btw)

it felt like I was getting more/different information out of it, compared to the potter transcript, which was kind of stressing me out honestly. so THEN I compared mine with barry cornwall's original poem and found more words that matched up? particularly in the second and third stanzas?

so!!!!! almost two hundred years later here's what I've landed on:

April 21 1847 the C the C the open ) ( it grew so fresh the Ever free the Ever free the Ever free without it without it covered it will Run to Earth above Re gions Round I love the C I love the C when I whare & I wish to be with and and silence whare Never go if a sailor should a Come and Make the meek What matter what matter Come Ride Or Sleep there was shores white and of red morn at the noisy hours knew I was ever near I was Born the [...] in felt Unto the Maid the wale the young dolphin ...... yet thes back of gold the Call of gods When I was on Old England Shore I like the young C more and more oftentimes time flew to a sweltering place like a bird thats seeks it mother Case and ware she was bird oft to me for have I loved a young and Hopen C

so then after going thru All Of That, I wanted to have a version of the original poem with parts that Henry did remember clearly highlighted for comparison purposes:

I know it's a popular theory that Henry was writing a dirty parody of the original poem? which if true, is funny as hell. me when i have to write cheeky victorian porn before i die.

But (serious voice) something about that hadn't ever seemed exactly right to me... IN MY HEART it seems more realistic that around 1847 he (and also by extension, the whole surviving expedition crew) were starting to experience confusion / brain fog symptoms from being ummmm quite physically unwell. the lead poisoning/scurvy combo would have severe effects on the brain's ability to function properly, and I started to wonder if Henry was trying to test his memory somehow? So he picked a widely known and popular Victorian era poem about being a sailor to see how much he could recall??? and he then got a little whimsical with it, and wrote in his own words to fill in the portions he couldn't fully recall, because it's his own diary and likely didn't expect anyone else to ever read it, much less have it turn into ONE of TWO surviving sources about the expedition?????

like... idk... this is probably the work of someone in the exact moment as they were starting to realize how bad things were, and then was trying to cope by using poetry. and That hurts my feelings enough as it is, but going through it was also just a very weird and haunting experience....... like, I can recognize all these tiny details in this dead guy's script and handwriting now. and to read his own account of his life in his own words, what stood out to him and what he recalled, what he wanted people in the future to know about him? insane. it literally felt like i was getting haunted by him for no reason. on top of knowing that Someone (#teamarmitage) loved this guy enough to keep his memory protected and safe, even though They Were So Totally Fucked And Going To Die There, unknowing if they'd ever be found again........

SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + CRYING A BIT HONESTLY

anyways thanks for reading this all. I don't think that this is revolutionary franklin expedition news by any means, and idk if there's a better different transcript somewhere that i've not found that already covers all this? but it's consumed a lot of my life lately lol and i wanted to share. because its the anniversary of henry writing it, and it felt...... important....? 💌....????

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons iii.

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ opening up it's not easy, isn't it?

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm mention, and disordered eating (not explicitly mentioned but you can clearly see it's there)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ helloooo welcome to part 3!!!!!! i think this might be the last part (if u have an idea on how this can continue feel free to tell me. u can send a request or just leave the idea in the comments). also just saying, this stuff is based on MY issues and experiences with mental health, so this might not be truthful to everyone. my insta is @/starsfinder_ if anyone wants to vent or just talk :))

remember you're not alone if you're going through a shitty moment, trust me!! ik everyone says to ask for help, and even if that's soo fucking true i know some people are not listened (even if that's literally a fucking RIGHT). so, as i said, you can dm me <33 take care of yourselves pleaseee. can't stress enough how much i want y'all to know you're not alone. hi. hello. i care!!!!!!!! and i'm here!!!!!! so please listen to me when i say everything's going to be alright :)) i love youuuuuu

also, sorry for any mistakes. i'm sooo tired rn lmao

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

I told you a lie, désolé, mon amour

I'm trying my best, don't know what's in store

The next week, I stepped out of therapy crying. I got into the car, slamming the door.

“Hey,” Ellie says softly, looking at me with her hands resting on the wheel, her gaze full of worry. “You okay?”

“Drive.”

“But—”

“Just drive.”

“Okay.”

Ellie starts driving. I wipe my tears, feeling overwhelmed. My mother had called yesterday and made me feel like shit. I wasn't doing my best at school. Ellie and I hadn't gone out since Christmas. So basically, everything was shit. I've also had urges to relapse, and they're just not going away.

I cry. Ellie drives. This is okay. It's okay. Except that it's not, and I haven't told my therapist anything about myself yet. My mother hasn't spoken to me in weeks, and my father sent a cat video on WhatsApp this morning. And Ellie’s knuckles are turning white from how hard she’s gripping the wheel, which makes my heart ache because I know she cares. It makes me want to tell her everything, but the words are stuck in my throat, and I can't seem to get them out.

We arrive at the apartment a couple of minutes later. Ellie doesn’t immediately open the doors, and I've calmed down enough to answer when she asks, “Baby? Are you feeling okay?”

I nod, looking away. The people that I see walking around look sad.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not, though,” she says. I stay quiet, doubting it. Ellie nudges me with her elbow, looking for an answer. “Hey.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”

Ellie pats me on the thigh before getting out of the car. I get out, too. I don't bother eating dinner that night; I just go straight to bed and fall asleep.

The next few days felt monotonous. I've fallen back into my sadness, the type that isn't bitter but sweet. It doesn't make me want to relapse. It makes me want to stay in bed more hours than I'd like, takes my appetite away, and leaves me feeling nothing but numbness.

I wake up, go to work, study, attend uni, come home, and sleep. The cycle repeats and repeats, and I'm so, so very tired.

Today, I took the day off. I knew I was too tired to do anything, so I planned to rot in bed. Ellie knocks on the door, but I don't answer. I hear the door creak open and the light from the living room creeping in.

"Hey," Ellie says, her voice coming from behind me. "Mind if I lay next to you?"

"It's fine," I say with a hoarse voice. I feel the bed sink at my side, and then Ellie is behind me, wrapping her arm around my torso and nuzzling her face into my neck, leaving a kiss right there. I feel cozy and comfortable. I don't know if this will last. I hope it does because it's a feeling I've never experienced before—someone comforting me? That has never happened.

"Do you want to talk about what's going on?" she asks. I stay quiet. "I care about you. I'm worried."

I do want to talk about it, but at the same time, I don't.

"I'm fine."

"You always say that… You haven't gotten out of bed since you came from work, and the frozen lasagna you were going to make for yourself last weekend has been in the fridge since then." She stays quiet for a second, her fingertips caressing my arm. "You're not doing fine, baby."

Millions of thoughts go through my head. Thoughts I don't say. I don't want her to leave; I don't want her to see how I feel.

"I'm trying, though." It's easy to say since Ellie isn't looking at my face directly. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I blink them away; I blink, blink, and blink again. Fast.

Ellie stays quiet, her breath tickling my neck. She kisses the back of my head again, her hand holding mine. I hold it to my chest. "I know. But you don't have to be alone in this."

That hits me like a truck. I wasn't expecting to be held by her, let alone her saying I don't have to be alone. A tear falls from my eye, landing on the pillow. I sniff, and Ellie holds me tighter, not saying anything. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with her free hand and kisses my temple.

"I'm sorry," I say, in a moment of pathetic weakness. She hugs me even closer.

"Hey, no. Don't apologize. C'mon, turn around."

I let go of her hand, turning around. Her left hand cups my face and she kisses my cheek, then my forehead, and then she kisses the tears that fall on my cheeks. When she pulls away, she gives me a small smile, "You're going to be okay."

She doesn't want you. She's your friend; she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think, she'll leave.

I wake up on Ellie's chest, it feels good to be comforted, I've found. Her phone is on the nightstand, so I just reach it and look at the time. It's eight o'clock. I've fallen asleep for two hours. I try to make myself more comfortable on her chest, attempting not to wake her, but my movements fail and she stirs.

"Hey," she says, her voice still laced with sleep. "What time is it?"

"It's still night," I say, closing my eyes. "We slept for two hours.'

"Feeling better?" I feel comfortable enough to shake my head. "Do you want to talk about it? I told you, I'm worried. And don't bullshit me with the whole 'I'm fine' shit, yeah?"

I stay quiet as her thumb caresses my back, "Did I tell you why I'm going to therapy?" Ellie shakes her head. "Well—back home I had some… issues. Mental health stuff related. I kept going back to depressive episodes. And one day I just asked for help from my mom, because I—I just couldn't stop self harming."

"Baby," Ellie says, hugging me tighter and kissing the top of my head. "What happened? Did your mother react well?"

"Yeah. Surprisingly. I got help. Got better. Sometimes it comes back, and I still get urges sometimes, but I can control it. It isn't as bad as it was before. But lately, it's just—yeah."

"You don't do that anymore, do you?" She asks, worried.

"No," I shake my head. "Not anymore."

"And what about the urges, do you still get them?" I nod, slowly. Ellie plays with my hair. "And therapy? Is it helping?"

"I haven't told her anything, yet. I—I don't know, I can't talk about it."

"What if I go to the next session? If you're okay with that, of course. If you still don't feel comfortable we can look for another therapist or another way to get you help."

I hide my face in her chest when she says the last word. I don't know why I've been refusing to get help. I don't know why I don't like that word. I sigh as Ellie stops playing with my hair and begins rubbing my back.

"I think—I think I would like it if you go with me."

"Okay. Okay, then. I'll go." The room falls to silence again for a few seconds. I feel ashamed for telling her. "I'm sorry you have to go through this… I wish I could do more."

"You're doing more than enough," I assure her. It's my time to hug her tighter. "You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this."

"Yeah?" She seems surprised. "I'm glad you talked to me. I'm here for you if you need anything—I mean it. You just have to tell me, I will listen… You could've told me sooner."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize. I’m just saying, I'm here for you. I've been there for you, always. And… is there something I can do to help?"

"Just be there," I say. "That's enough."

"Mhm, I'll stay."

I think she wants you, a little voice in my head says. I think she loves you, and I don't think she'll ever leave.

Maybe I'll be okay, after all.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Spencer and Y/N go on their date!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: suggestive conversation, self doubt, glasses Spencer, reader wears glasses/contacts but other than that i'm trying not to give her a physical description, let me know if i do put her in a narrow category!! i know i said she had curves at rossi's dinner party but to be objectively fair every human has at least one curve lmao

Word count: 5.4k

a/n: i am really enjoying writing these two :') life has been so boring since i graduated. if you're wondering how i bust these out so fast, one -- i don't have a life, and two - i wrote all of my essays the night before or the day they were due hahah

main masterlist

It was Saturday morning, and the air held a crispness that hinted at the excitement of the day ahead. Y/N stood before her wardrobe, contemplating her outfit for the day. She opted for something comfortable yet dressy enough for wherever Spencer might be taking her. The outfit was stylish but not overly formal, perfect for a day that could involve a fair amount of walking yet elegant enough for an unexpected dinner venue. She chose layers—a practical choice that allowed for adjustments depending on whether the day turned warm or cool.

As she dressed, a flutter of excitement danced in her stomach, mixed with a tinge of anxiety that she couldn't shake off. Y/N was excited, truly, but she couldn’t help tempering her anticipation with a cautious restraint. Her past experiences with relationships and dates had taught her to guard her heart. More than once, she'd been let down, left to pick up the pieces after what she thought were promising beginnings fizzled into disappointment. These memories, still vivid, cast a shadow over her current excitement, reminding her to brace for any outcome.

Approaching her dresser, Y/N paused, her hand hovering over her contact lens case. Usually, she preferred contacts for a more put together look, especially when putting extra effort into her appearance. However, remembering the discomfort of her contacts drying out during unexpected long hours, she opted for her glasses instead. She hadn't worn them the first time she met Spencer, and a small part of her worried about what he'd think. Would he notice? Would he care?

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, now framed by the sleek lines of her glasses. Taking a deep breath, she told her reflection, "Just enjoy the day, no matter what comes," trying to bolster her spirits. She wanted to listen to that optimistic voice in her head telling her everything would be fine, that Spencer was different, that this time it wouldn't end in disappointment. Yet, she prepared herself mentally for any scenario, unwilling to let her guard down completely.

Y/N grabbed her essentials—phone, wallet, a light scarf—and slipped them into her bag. As she took one last look in the mirror, she practiced her smile, the one she’d use to mask her nerves when she met Spencer. She hoped the day would prove her fears unfounded, that it would be a turning point from her past experiences. But she kept her expectations in check, a self-protective measure honed by past heartaches.

—

As the morning sunlight streamed through the blinds of his apartment, Spencer Reid found himself standing before the bathroom mirror, his usual nerves mingling with a specific concern today. He adjusted his glasses, the frames unfamiliar against the bridge of his nose, as he leaned closer to examine his reflection. His contacts had dried out, an unfortunate oversight, leaving him no choice but to wear his glasses for the date with Y/N.

He studied himself critically. The glasses were practical, a necessity for his work, but he rarely wore them anymore. There was something about them that made him feel exposed, more like the bookish nerd he had always been, and who he had been made fun of for being, and less like the confident man he hoped to appear as today. What if she doesn’t like them? The question nagged at him, adding an extra layer of anxiety to his already jittery state.

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He remembered reading that people often perceive glasses as a sign of intelligence and reliability, traits he hoped Y/N would appreciate. Still, he couldn't help but worry that perhaps she might prefer him without them, or that they might alter the way she saw him—literally and metaphorically.

As he turned away from the mirror, he made his way to his bedroom to choose his outfit. He opted for a smart-casual ensemble that felt comfortable yet presentable: a crisp button-down shirt paired with a well-fitted blazer, and his best jeans. The glasses, he decided, would just have to become part of his look for the day.

With his outfit sorted, Spencer paced his living room, every potential topic of conversation he had prepared buzzing through his mind. His thoughts were filled with bits of trivia about the latest exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, hoping these would spark engaging discussions between him and Y/N. He rehearsed some points in his head, mapping out how he might transition from discussing ancient artifacts to more personal subjects, like her interests and hobbies.

However, as much as he prepared, his thoughts kept drifting back to his glasses. He paused in his pacing, catching his reflection in the window. The morning light cast a soft glow that somehow made the glasses seem less obtrusive, more a part of him. "Maybe it's not so bad," Spencer muttered to himself, adjusting to his reflection.

He grabbed his notebook from the coffee table, a little ritual that always helped calm his nerves. Scribbling down some last-minute notes about things he wanted to remember—like asking Y/N about her recent projects and ensuring to mention a little-known fact about an art piece he thought she'd appreciate—helped him feel more in control.

Yet, beneath the surface of his meticulous preparations, there was an undercurrent of excitement. This wasn't just any date; it was a date with Y/N, someone who had sparked a level of interest in him that was rare and invigorating. The glasses, he realized, were just a minor detail in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was the connection they might deepen today.

Finally ready, Spencer took one last look around his apartment to ensure everything was in order before leaving. He grabbed his keys and his jacket, pushed up his glasses with a newfound sense of acceptance, and headed out the door. Today, he decided he would focus on the possibilities, not the insecurities. After all, if their connection was genuine, Y/N would see beyond the glasses to the person behind them. And perhaps, in those museum halls filled with timeless artifacts, they could find something just as enduring between them.

—

Y/N arrived at the coffee shop Spencer had texted her about, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nerves. She spotted Spencer already there, waiting for her by the window, a steaming cup in front of him. He looked up as the bell above the door jingled, his face lighting up when he saw her. Despite her nervousness, Y/N felt a warm flutter in her chest at the sight of his welcoming smile.

"Hey, Y/N, over here!" Spencer called out softly, waving her over.

She walked towards him, her steps hesitant but eager. "Hey, Spencer," she greeted, her voice slightly quivering. As she sat down, she noticed his glasses and couldn't help but smile. "I like your glasses," she said, touching the frame of her own as if to point out the coincidence.

Spencer chuckled, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "Thanks, I usually wear contacts, but, you know, they dried out."

"Same here," Y/N admitted, feeling a connection over their shared minor dilemma. "It’s a glasses kind of day, I guess."

Internally, Y/N felt a surge of relief. Seeing Spencer in his glasses, looking unexpectedly handsome, eased her worries about her own appearance. My god, I didn’t think he could get anymore attractive, she thought, her initial anxiety about her own glasses fading away and being replaced with a warmth that couldn’t be helped by removing her scarf. Maybe all of her clothes. 

Spencer felt a similar relief, his earlier concerns about his glasses dissolving as he saw Y/N's reaction. She doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she looks adorable in hers. Maybe this isn’t such a big deal after all, he reassured himself. His thoughts remained much more pure than Y/N’s, although he couldn’t help but think about how if he tried to kiss her today their glasses would clink together. The thought made a blush rise up his neck to his cheeks. 

There was a brief pause, an almost knowing silence, before Spencer leaned forward, his eyes bright with excitement. "So, I have something planned for us today. I hope you'll like it. We’re going to the Met. There’s a few exhibits I think you’d really enjoy, and then I thought we could grab dinner at a nice place nearby. How does that sound?"

Y/N's eyes widened, her earlier anxieties melting away into genuine excitement. "That sounds amazing, Spencer. I’ve always wanted to go to the Met! And dinner sounds perfect," she replied, her nervousness turning into anticipation.

Spencer seemed relieved by her enthusiasm. "Great! I wasn’t sure what you’d think. I mean, it’s a bit of a train ride, but I thought it might be fun to spend the day in New York."

"It’s more than fun, it’s perfect," Y/N assured him, her smile sincere. "I can’t think of a better way to spend the day." And she meant it, they could talk on the train ride there and back, maybe hold hands, brush thighs. It’s in the little things. 

They decided to take their coffee to go, stepping out together towards the train station. As they walked, the initial awkwardness began to fade. Spencer’s eyes occasionally met Y/N’s, each glance accompanied by a shy smile. "I’m really glad you’re here with me," Spencer confessed, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone.

"Me too," Y/N responded, her heart skipping a beat. "I’ve been looking forward to this all week."

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics, each shared laugh bringing them a little closer, building a bridge over their initial anxieties. As they boarded the train, Y/N felt a newfound optimism. Today was not just another date; it was the beginning of something special, she could feel it. And as they settled into their seats, watching the cityscape start to pass by, she believed, for the first time in a long time, that her hopes were well placed.

As the train clattered along the tracks toward New York, Y/N and Spencer found themselves in the comfortable cocoon of their shared booth. The cityscape blurred past, creating a serene backdrop for their burgeoning connection.

"So, Spencer," Y/N began, leaning forward with a playful glint in her eyes, "tell me about the most bizarre case you've ever worked on. I promise I can handle it."

Spencer chuckled, a blush already tinting his cheeks. "Well, there was this one time we dealt with a suspect who believed he was a 21st-century vampire..." As he recounted the peculiarities of the case, Y/N listened intently, occasionally brushing her foot against his under the table, sending a jolt through him each time. 

(Pretend this case happened earlier)

"Vampires, huh? Are you sure you aren't one?" Y/N teased, her tone light but suggestive. "You do have a certain... nocturnal charm."

Spencer's laugh was nervous, delighted. She's incredible, he thought. So bold and funny. It's utterly disarming. "I assure you, I'm not a vampire. Just a regular guy who happens to have naturally sunken eyes."

Y/N smiled and giggled, pleased with his playful response. "Good to know. I prefer my dates to be sunlight-friendly. Speaking of which, how do you usually spend your days off when you're not chasing fictional vampires or real criminals?"

Spencer found himself more relaxed as he shared more about his love for reading and rewatching sci-fi movies and TV. Y/N seemed genuinely interested, her responses peppered with witty remarks that kept him on his toes.

"Reading, huh? I should have guessed," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. "Next you'll be telling me you have a cat named Schrödinger."

"No cat," Spencer admitted, grinning. "But I wouldn't mind one. As long as it doesn't interfere with my reading."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly from books to favorite ways to spend a rainy day, each topic drawing them closer. Y/N's confidence and teasing made Spencer's heart race, but he found himself enjoying the thrill of it. She’s so refreshing, exciting even. I haven't felt this engaged in a long time.

As the train rolled closer to their destination, Spencer found himself wishing the ride wouldn't end. Y/N had the rare ability to make him blush and laugh in equal measure, a combination he found intoxicating.

"So, Spencer," Y/N leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as the train noise crescendoed around them. "If today goes well... would you consider making our next date a night at the opera? I hear it's quite the experience."

Spencer's eyes widened, both at the suggestion and her proximity. "I'd like that," he managed to say, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. "I'd like that very much."

Y/N smiled, her gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary before she leaned back in her seat, satisfied with his response. Spencer watched her, a smile tugging at his lips, his earlier nerves replaced by anticipation and hope. She’s already wanting another date? I’m still hoping I can work up the courage to kiss her, he thought as the skyline of New York City came into view.

As they stepped into the grandeur of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the vast spaces filled with centuries of art and history, Y/N's excitement was palpable. Her eyes sparkled with each new room they entered, each piece they observed. Spencer, usually reserved, found himself drawn out by her enthusiasm, his voice animated as he shared insights and facts about the artworks around them.

They wandered through the exhibit "The Philippe de Montebello Years: Curators Celebrate Three Decades of Acquisitions," where Y/N's favorite pieces resided. Her gaze lingered on each work, genuinely appreciating the artistry and the stories Spencer told her about the origins and significance of each piece.

"Did you know this particular painting was considered lost for almost two centuries before it was found in a small, forgotten chapel in Italy?" Spencer pointed to an intricate Renaissance painting, its colors vibrant even after all these years.

Y/N listened intently, her interest deepening with each fact. "I had no idea," she responded, her tone full of genuine fascination. "You know so much about all of this, Spencer. It's incredibly... exciting."

Spencer, caught off guard by her candid compliment, blushed deeply but couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face. "Really?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and delight.

"Yes, really," Y/N affirmed, stepping closer to him. "Your brain is the sexiest thing about you, Spencer. The way you know all these things, the way you're so passionate about sharing them—it’s captivating."

Encouraged by her words, Spencer found himself sharing even more. They stopped in front of a medieval tapestry, its threads telling tales of battles and legends. As he explained the symbolism woven into the fabric, Y/N's admiration only grew. She watched him, not just listening but truly seeing him—someone who had finally found a receptive audience for his wealth of knowledge.

Spencer felt a thrill unlike any other. For so long, he had been used to people tuning out his ramblings, to seeing eyes glaze over halfway through his explanations. But with Y/N, it was different. She hung on his every word, her curiosity feeding his own, her enthusiasm fueling a confidence he rarely felt in social settings.

As they moved through the museum, their conversation flowed effortlessly from art to personal anecdotes, each story Spencer shared bringing a new sparkle to Y/N's eyes. He talked about his mother, his childhood filled with books instead of playdates, and she listened, understanding and nodding, sharing bits of her own life in return.

The day at the Met became more than just a date; it was a revelation for both. For Y/N, it was discovering that someone could match her enthusiasm for learning and experiencing new things. For Spencer, it was the joy of finding someone who not only appreciated his intellect but was genuinely excited by it.

As the museum began to close, and they slowly made their way out, neither of them wanted the day to end. They were lost in a bubble where art and intellect intertwined, where every fact shared was a thread pulling them closer together.

As Spencer and Y/N stepped out of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the energy of New York City enveloped them once again. The streets buzzed with the usual symphony of honking cars, chattering pedestrians, and the distant siren of an emergency vehicle. Spencer turned to Y/N, a thoughtful look on his face.

“There’s a restaurant not too far from here where the team and I ate after wrapping up a case once,” he suggested. “It’s really good, not too fancy but the food is excellent. It might be a bit of a walk, though, so we could grab a cab if you’re tired from all the museum walking.”

Y/N, reveling in the connection they had fostered throughout the day, shook her head with a smile. “I don’t mind the walk, actually. It’s a beautiful evening, and I’m enjoying spending time with you. Let’s walk.”

Spencer nodded, visibly pleased by her eagerness to extend their time together. They started down the sidewalk, navigating through the bustling crowd. The city seemed to glow with a warm, golden light as the sun began to set, casting long shadows on the pavement.

As they were walking, the crowd around them thickened momentarily as people hurried to cross the street before the light changed. In the midst of this, a passerby stumbled a bit too close to Y/N, jostling her slightly. Instantly, Spencer’s protective instincts kicked in. He placed his hand on her lower back, gently pulling her closer to his side, away from the rush of the crowd.

The contact sent an unexpected jolt through Y/N, a spark that felt electric. Surprised and thrilled by the sensation, she instinctively reached for his bicep, feeling the solid muscle under her hand, and linked her other arm around his. The gesture was intimate, natural, and it seemed to anchor them both amidst the sea of people.

Spencer, who was so often touch-starved and reserved in his physical interactions, felt a warm thrill at her touch. His heart raced slightly, a pleasant buzz of excitement coursing through him. The feeling of her hand on his arm, her body close to his, was unexpectedly comforting and exhilarating. It was a simple gesture, but to Spencer, it felt significant, a physical affirmation of the connection they’d been building all day.

As they walked on, navigating the streets of New York toward the restaurant, Spencer felt a sense of contentment wash over him. Y/N’s presence at his side, the way she fit naturally into his space, made the city around them fade into a soft background. He found himself hoping that the evening would stretch on, reluctant to let go of the moment.

The walk to the restaurant became a leisurely stroll, each step taking them deeper into a shared comfort. They talked easily, laughter mingling with the city sounds, the initial spark at their contact evolving into a steady, warm glow. By the time they reached the restaurant, Spencer and Y/N were closer than ever, both physically and emotionally, eager to continue their evening together.

At the restaurant, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of romance and intimacy, exactly the kind of place Spencer remembered and hoped would impress Y/N. The lighting was low and warm, casting soft shadows around the room and illuminating the tables with a gentle glow from the candles placed on each one. These candles, unscented and subtle, added a touch of elegance without overwhelming the senses. In the background, a live band played soft, sensual music, their melodies weaving through the conversations and enhancing the romantic vibe of the evening.

They were seated in an intimate curved booth that offered both privacy and comfort, allowing them to share each other's space effortlessly. It was cozy but spacious enough to not feel crowded, perfect for leaning in close and sharing quiet conversations.

Following the waiter's prompt, both Spencer and Y/N opted for red wine, a decision made easier by the fact that neither of them needed to drive back. As they sipped their wine, the rich, bold flavors seemed to deepen the already warm atmosphere, loosening inhibitions slightly.

Y/N, feeling the effects of the wine which always tended to make her feel a bit more daring, turned her full attention to Spencer. She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” she began in a slightly lower, flirtatious tone, “about how someone as smart as you, with all those facts in his head, must have some hidden talents I’ve yet to discover.”

Spencer, usually more reserved, felt a rush of boldness fueled by the wine and the undeniable chemistry between them. He returned her smile with one of his own, this one tinged with a newfound confidence. “Well, I might have a few surprises left,” he replied, his voice deeper than usual. “But I’m more interested in exploring what makes you... you. Besides, I find myself wanting to know all about your talents, hidden or otherwise.”

Y/N was pleasantly surprised by his reciprocation, the boldness of his words matching her own flirtatious energy. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to match the intimacy of their booth. “Is that so? Well, I might just have to reveal a few secrets tonight,” she teased, her hand reaching under the table to lightly touch his leg.

The contact sent a thrill through Spencer, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he welcomed it, letting her hand linger on him. The conversation shifted seamlessly from playful banter to deeper, more personal topics. They talked about their hopes, their fears, and the excitement of new experiences. Spencer found himself opening up more than he usually would, driven by the genuine interest Y/N showed in every word he said.

As the evening progressed, their connection deepened, bolstered by the wine and the enchanting setting. The music from the live band seemed to wrap around them, a soundtrack to the unfolding intimacy. Laughter and shared confidences filled their booth, the rest of the world fading into a distant murmur. For both Spencer and Y/N, the night was shaping up to be more enchanting than they had anticipated, each moment pulling them closer into a mutual fascination that promised only to grow.

As the train whisked them back towards home, the rhythm of the rails seemed to echo the residual buzz of the evening’s wine. Both Spencer and Y/N choose seats next to each other this time, their shoulders occasionally brushing in a comfortable, familiar manner. The closeness felt natural after the evening they had shared. They were both visibly tired, the excitement of the day and the indulgence in wine having drawn a gentle fatigue from them.

Despite the weariness, their conversation continued to flow smoothly, albeit with a quieter, more reflective tone than before. They leaned into each other slightly, the warmth between them palpable in the cool air of the train compartment.

“So, you’re a Doctor Who fan too?” Spencer asked, a hint of surprise and delight coloring his voice as they discovered yet another common interest.

“Yes, absolutely,” Y/N responded with a smile, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve been hooked since I was a kid. There’s just something about the Doctor’s adventures through time and space that’s captivating.”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, his own fondness for the show sparking further attraction towards her. “I totally agree. It’s the blend of science fiction and deep moral questions that gets me. Plus, the Doctor is a great character—always changing, yet fundamentally the same.”

Their shared enthusiasm for the show spun off into a deeper discussion about their favorite episodes and Doctors, each reference pulling them closer in mutual geekdom. It was during this exchange that Spencer found himself making a spontaneous invitation, surprising even himself with his forwardness.

“You know, if you’re up for it, maybe you could come over sometime and we could watch a few episodes together? I have a pretty decent setup for a Doctor Who marathon,” Spencer suggested, his voice a mix of casual and hopeful.

Y/N’s smile broadened, and she nodded, her heart warmed by the invitation. “I’d love that. It sounds like a perfect plan.”

The ease with which they continued to talk about everything from favorite books to music showed how compatible they were, not just on a surface level but in deeper, more meaningful ways. Their laughter and shared looks filled the space around them, creating an intimate bubble even in the public setting of the train.

As the train neared their destination, both Spencer and Y/N felt a reluctance for the night to end—a sign of the significant connection they had forged. They exchanged sleepy smiles and soft words as the city lights began to grow brighter outside the train windows.

By the time the train pulled into the station, Spencer felt a sense of anticipation for their next meeting. Having Y/N in his apartment, a space he had never shared with a romantic interest before, felt like a big step, but it was one he was now eagerly looking forward to. The night had started as a hopeful date and had blossomed into the beginning of something truly special. As they stepped off the train, their hands found each other almost instinctively, a fitting end to a perfect day and the promise of more to come.

After exiting the train station, Spencer insisted on walking Y/N back to her apartment, citing crime statistics that painted a stark picture of the risks women faced when walking alone at night. Though the mood was light and jovial from their shared experiences of the day, his protective nature was evident, and Y/N appreciated his concern. 

The walk to her apartment was filled with light conversation and reflective pauses, both savoring the last few moments together. The city at night provided a beautifully lit backdrop, with street lamps casting soft glows on the sidewalks and the distant sounds of the city nightlife buzzing around them. Their fingers slotted together providing enough warmth to keep fires blazing within them both.

Upon reaching her apartment building, a comfortable silence fell over them as they stood at her doorstep, reluctant to end the evening. "Thank you, Spencer," Y/N said, her voice warm and sincere. "Today was amazing. Truly."

Spencer, his hands now shoved awkwardly into his pockets, nodded, his face showing a mixture of happiness and the usual nervousness that came when he was unsure of what to do next. "I had a great time too, Y/N. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for going with me."

Sensing his apprehension and wanting to ease his nerves, Y/N stepped closer and, on an impulse, kissed his cheek gently. "Goodnight, Spencer," she smiled, her eyes holding his gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

Spencer's face turned a deeper shade of red, his mouth gaping not unlike a fish before he managed a bashful, "Goodnight, Y/N." As she turned to enter her building, Spencer stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds, a hand reflexively touching the spot on his cheek where her lips had been.

He finally uprooted his feet and hailed a cab to take him home, his mind replaying every moment of the day and the evening, but especially that last, unexpected kiss on his cheek. He was absolutely buzzing with a mix of elation and disbelief. As the city lights passed by the cab's window, he couldn't keep the grin off his face, feeling an excitement he hadn't known in a long time.

Meanwhile, Y/N, after closing the door to her apartment, immediately dialed her mom. The time difference meant it was still early where her mom lived, and she knew she’d be awake. As soon as her mom answered, Y/N gushed, "Mom, I had the best date tonight. You remember I told you about Spencer from the FBI? It was with him."

Her mom's voice, hilarious and encouraging, came through the phone. "Tell me about it! But leave out the gory details."

“Mom!” Y/N whined petulantly but did as she asked anyway—she recounted every detail from the Met visit to the candlelit dinner and the casual yet intimate conversations they had shared. She described how considerate Spencer had been, walking her home and the protective reasons behind it, and she didn’t leave out the part about the kiss on the cheek that had left her feeling a pleasant flutter in her stomach.

"Mom, he’s different, really thoughtful and so smart. I think this could be something special," Y/N admitted, her voice a mixture of hope and a bit of wonder.

Her mom's reply was full of the usual maternal optimism and caution, "Just take it one step at a time. But he sounds wonderful. I’m happy for you."

Hanging up the phone, Y/N felt a contentment settle over her. The night had been perfect, and now, sharing it had made it feel even more real. As she got ready for bed, the memories of the evening played back in her mind, each one a promise of potential tomorrows.

— 

Sunday morning came too early for Y/N, her sleep interrupted by a loud banging on her apartment door. Disoriented and a bit alarmed, she pulled herself from the warmth of her bed, wondering who could be at her door at such an early hour. She wasn't expecting anyone, and the unexpected noise had her heart racing slightly as she approached the door.

Living in the city had taught Y/N to be cautious, but she also knew that only a select few knew her address—now Spencer and the Hotchners. With a mix of confusion and caution, she tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole.

To her surprise and immediate relief, it was Penelope Garcia standing outside, her bright and colorful attire unmistakable even through the distorted view of the peephole. Penelope was holding a large carrier with what looked like coffee and pastries—a peace offering or perhaps a bribe for an early morning intrusion.

Y/N opened the door, her expression a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. "Penelope, what are you doing here this early?" she asked, though her tone was light and welcoming.

Penelope's face lit up with an excited grin, and she practically bounced on the spot. "Girl talk time! I brought reinforcements," she said, lifting the carrier slightly to emphasize the coffee and pastries. "I may or may not have used my magical database skills to find your address. I couldn't wait to hear all about your date with Spencer!"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head as she stepped aside to let Penelope into her apartment. "You're impossible," she said fondly. "But since you come bearing caffeine and carbs, I suppose I can forgive you."

Once inside, Penelope set the treats on the kitchen counter and turned to Y/N with wide, expectant eyes. "So? Tell me everything! Was it as magical as you hoped? Give me all the details!"

As Y/N poured them both coffee, she started recounting the events of the previous evening—from the walk through the Met to the candlelit dinner and the charming walk home. Penelope listened intently, occasionally interjecting with excited squeals or empathetic nods.

Y/N shared how comfortable she felt with Spencer, how their conversations flowed naturally, and how he made her laugh. She even blushed a bit when mentioning the protective gesture he made and the cheek kiss that ended the night.

Penelope was thrilled with every detail, her enthusiasm making Y/N relive the joy of the date all over again. "Spencer really likes you, you know," Penelope said with a knowing smile. "He even texted me because he had to tell someone how great the date went."

Hearing this, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, her smile broadening. That man is just too sweet, I want to eat him up. 

[stuffeddeer]

Hello deer!! I wholeheartedly hope you are feeling better day after day! Here a bit of a thought about Dazai that could cheer you up.

I was thinking about Pm! Dazai (like always).

People always says "he listens to this, he listens to that", I think he didn't listen to any music honestly.

So imagine if you are the one who makes him listen to songs for the first time, and you help him build up his own tastes making him listen to any genre, some you like some maybe you don't like just to help him.

It would be so wholesome idk I love this idea😭

- ⏳️

hi ⏳ anon!!! youre so real 🙂‍↕️ i did this more as hcs :)

"Why are you playing me songs you don't like?"

"..? Because what if you like them?"

"I'm not going to just out of spite now."

and he doesn't

if you go out of your way to show dazai songs and help him build his taste he's just gonna fall in love with you agree with what you like

i think honestly it'd be hell to make him sit down and listen, follow along with the lyrics, etc - so please have something else nearby for him to stimulate his brain or hands or anything!!!!

like puzzles or something! fidget toys idk! maybe he doesn't care for music because he doesn't understand sitting there silently and doing nothing

listen. drop a bin of legos on him or something you know what i mean?

but you teach him well 🙂‍↕️ you don't have to just sit around and focus solely on the music! you can dance and have fun or just put it in the background!!!!

and now he gets it. now he's into it.

i think he'd love all music! isn't the type to make specific playlists just has every song he likes in one big pile

he doesn't gaf when some high beat song comes on full blast after the saddest tune yk. doesn't bat an eye

perhaps a given but he loves songs about dark topics that have cheerful beats 😭 have any of you heard bullet by hollywood undead? bro blasts that song all the time just to frustrate mori people

i think his emo ass would love mcr i'm sorry lmao

him rocking out and going crazy to all of their discography... it was meant for him

he hates whatever music you hate in solidarity btw. YOU showed him music so you clearly are the end all be all on decisions here

if someone recommends him a song he asks you if you've heard it. if not: you can listen together! if so:

"Do you like it? Are we gatekeeping this artist? Or is the song bad and I should I tell this guy to fuck off?"

"Dazai, just listen to it! Maybe you'll like it!"

"? That's what I'm trying to figure out. So answer my question, do you like it?"

and he says that all on the phone with you across from the person lmao

i just think he doesn't care enough to find his own taste if he never cared enough to listen on his own

so while he Says that your music taste is objectively correct (to which he stands by fully) he also just doesn't mind never listening to anything else

he doesn't care to branch out! dazai just likes you

and by extension, your music

piggybacking off of what i said earlier, he is not a playlist guy

BUT. however.

dazai will never sit down and forge his own playlist

unless it's a joke. "songs to make chuuya mad" and it's like. nyan cat 10 hour version idfk

okay back to the point

dazai will never forge his own playlists HOWEVER. if you're a playlist enjoyer and make tons and tons, spanning across different moods and different times and everything -

he listens to Every Single One

dazai will pick favorites from the playlists, but each one is meticulously worked through and studied, making sure to give you specific compliments on each one

okay. pm!dazai is so emo i need you all to understand while he does just shuffle every song you've ever liked, he is partial to more of that standard tumblr-emo shit yk

bro queues up mcr fall out boy and pierce the veil

every middle school emo kid's playlist is what dazai listens to

[jjkamochoso]

...i have come again! With more noritoshi stuff,,,maybe noritoshi is really scary of what his family will think about reader, and they get in a fight about it but they make up in the end! (i need my nori angst) thank you! :3

MMMMMM I LOVE ANGST AND I LOVE NORITOSHI SO THIS IS RIGHT UP MY ALLEY thank you for being patient as I worked on this!! Thank you for the prompt and I really hope you enjoy this story!! You're always helping feed my Noritoshi obsession and I am SO appreciative of that lmao

Family Feud

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Noritoshi Kamo x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing; this is slightly fem coded because reader receives flowers but imo flowers are gender neutral😌

You were currently sitting on your boyfriend Noritoshi's bed, scrolling through your phone while he pored over yet another stack of papers with important information regarding the Kamo clan. As he was next in line to be the clan head, he was always studying traditional texts, making sure he knew everything there was to know about his family and their history, along with staying updated on the other clans' behaviors and keeping tabs on them. It was a loaded job for a boy of his age, having felt the pressure to be perfect ever since his mom was forced out of the clan all those years ago. His family was a complete enigma to you since you still hadn't met them. Every time you brought up the idea of visiting his estate to say hello to them, he shut you down immediately. You loved Noritoshi, and you were sure he loved you too, but you could't help but get the feeling he wanted to keep you hidden from them for some reason. Little did you know, that topic was about to be brought up again and lead to a messy outcome.

Noritoshi's phone dinged but he paid it no mind as he continued with his task at hand. After the second chime, you picked up his phone and brought it to him.

"Thank you," he mumbled absentmindedly, setting the phone down without a second glance.

"Aren't you going to read it?" you prompted, curious to know what the text was about. You saw the preview of the message on his screen as you brought it to him and it piqued your interest since it was from his father. To be honest, he didn't sound like the type of man to even know cell phones existed so to say you were eager to hear what he had to tell Noritoshi through that medium was an understatement.

"In a second," he replied, his nose buried in the papers in front of him.

"It's from your dad."

"HUH?"

You'd never seen Noritoshi whip his head around as fast as he unlocked his phone with lightning speed, a slightly concerned look on his face as his eyes scanned over the digital words in front of him.

"He wants me to call him. If you'll excuse me, I'm going in the other room so I don't bother you."

"You'd never bother me, my love," you told him, sending a soft smile his way. For the first time that day, Noritoshi visibly relaxed, releasing a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding for hours. You were the only thing in his life that never caused him undue amounts of stress. You were the person who helped ground him in moments like these where everything felt impossible. Just seeing a glimpse of the back of your head was enough to keep Noritoshi happy for hours, but being lucky enough to be treated by the appearance of a smile on your face was plenty motivation for him to work even harder to be the best member of the Kamo clan, the most acclaimed heir, and give you the most luxurious life you deserved.

A luxurious life, preferably miles and miles away from his dreadful family.

He tried to love them, he did, but they were, quite frankly, insufferable. Nothing he ever did was good enough and all of his actions were continuously scrutinized. It was exhausting being around them during meetings and some days he wanted to bash his head against the table as they droned on and on about the most inconsequential topics, paying no mind to issues that actually matter. The clan had no respect for his mother, the only family member he truly cared for, and so, he had no respect for them. They would never know that, of course, because he needed to be on his best behavior lest his position as clan head get passed on to someone else and all his hard work would be for nought. He was also extremely aware of the prejudice his family had against anyone who wasn't from an esteemed sorcerer family, meaning you would barely place the tip of your shoe on his family's estate and they would have you escorted from the premises immediately. He loved you too much for you to be a victim of their cruel words and harsh behavior so he avoided bringing you around to meet them, for your sake and his own.

"I'll only be a minute," he said earnestly, stepping out of his bedroom and into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He mentally prepared himself for whatever venomous words he was about to be subjected to as the phone line rang in his ear.

"Hello, father. What may I do for you?"

You didn't want to be rude and eavesdrop, but you desperately wanted to know how the conversation was going between Noritoshi and his dad. You knew the head Kamo could be abrasive so you hoped your boyfriend would leave the phone call halfway unscathed. Even without putting your ear to the door, you heard Noritoshi's gentle voice become firmer.

"Yes, father... No, father... Alright. I'll see you then. Goodbye."

Noritoshi came back in, a frustrated sigh leaving him as his hand ruffled the hair on the back of his head.

"I hate to do this to you, y/n, but I have to reschedule our date tonight. My father said everyone is needed at the estate for a family conference and dinner. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, it's not your fault," you said, putting your phone down. "If everyone is gonna be there, wouldn't it be the best time for me to go and finally meet your family?"

"That's really not a good idea," he said, sitting in his desk chair again. "I don't think now's the right time. There'll be too much going on and I don't want you to get overwhelmed."

"But it's never the right time according to you," you said, exasperated from him continually stringing you along. "I'm starting to feel like you don't want me to meet them at all."

He gulped. That was very true, but not for the reason you probably thought. It wasn't you who shouldn't meet them, it was them who didn't deserve to meet you.

"That's not... totally true," he told you, his focus going back to the papers in front of him as an excuse to end this conversation before it went south. "I have to finish studying this before I go. You're welcome to stay here in the meantime but I'm not sure if I'll be back tonight."

"Hold on. I'm not dropping this so easily."

"I really wish you would."

Your eyes narrowed. "Can you just tell me why I can't meet them? You've never given me one real reason. Just one, and I'll be quiet about it."

"They're just busy, that's all."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

He still wouldn't meet your eyes, pretending to be engrossed in his work, which was really starting to piss you off.

"What, now I'm too boring to even pay attention to?"

That got him to finally look up.

"Listen, y/n, you know my family is... complicated. I would like to keep you away from that mess for as long as possible."

"I'm quite old enough to hold my own against a "complicated" family," you seethed, trying to keep your cool, but almost failing. "I don't need you to protect me like I'm a child or something! Do they even know I exist?"

It was much too quiet for much too long.

"Damn it, Noritoshi, answer me! Do they know you're dating someone?"

"I... they know you exist. I talk about you all the time, I do," he said, his heart beating quickly in his chest, "but... no. I haven't told them we're dating."

At that moment, you felt your heart snap in two. Noritoshi was so ashamed at his admission that he refused to see your face, afraid to witness how bad he just hurt you.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you breathed out, voice cracking. "I've shared everything with you all this time and you do this to me? My family knows everything about you and can't wait to meet you but your family doesn't even know we're together? You told me you loved me but you can't tell your family anything because they're, what, too dysfunctional? I can't believe this is happening right now. I really can't."

You stood from the bed, snatching your phone and grabbing your jacket that was strewn next to you. Shoving your feet in your shoes, you gave Noritoshi a tearful glance.

"I hope you're happy with the way this turned out. Don't you dare try to talk to me after this."

"Y/n, wait!" he yelled out, but you had already slammed the door behind you. He was at a total loss of what to do. He knew he made an extremely grave error, but the whole time he convinced himself it was the best decision for both of you. Very obviously, that couldn't be further from the truth, and he was scared that he had just lost the love of his life due to his stupidity and cowardice. He so desperately wanted to run after you and explain the whole situation, come clean about his intentions, but if he wanted to make it to the Kamo estate on time, he had to leave in a few minutes. Making his choice, he exited his room.

When you got to your room, tears were falling freely down your cheeks. You were truly at a loss with Noritoshi. How could he hide you from his family like that? To think you loved each other, yet he kept you a secret? Was he ashamed of you? Were you too poor? Too unattractive? What was it about you that he felt the need to disguise the fact that you two were dating? You went to unlock your phone, but seeing your lock screen with his face smiling at you, so carefree, made you want to sob even harder. You threw the phone away from you, the piece of technology landing on your comforter with a soft thud. You laid crying on your bed for who knows how long, feeling exhausted as the tears finally subsided. You needed to occupy your mind with something else so you grabbed the remote to turn on your tv. Before you could find an interesting show, there was a knock at your door. You checked the time on your phone: 5:30 pm. It couldn't possibly be Noritoshi, he was at his family's place right now. Confused, you got up and peeked through the window next to the door to make sure it was someone you knew.

What the hell was Noritoshi doing here?

"Go away, Kamo," you yelled through the door.

"I really need to talk to you, y/n. I messed up and I want to explain myself."

You rolled your eyes. "You should've thought of that before you ripped out my heart and stomped on it."

"I know. Please, just give me one minute to talk and if you're still upset, I promise I'll leave you alone."

You wanted to ignore him and send him home, but you could tell by the look on his face that he was just as torn up about the fight as you were. It wouldn’t hurt to hear him out—you could easily slam the door in his face again if need be. You opened the door tentatively to find yourself on the receiving end of a beautiful bouquet of flowers but you tried to act unimpressed so he didn’t think that was enough for forgiveness.

"Flowers? How emotionally unavailable do you have to be to think that showing up at my door with plants is an acceptable apology?"

Noritoshi tried his best to not look deflated at your annoyed tone. “That’s not the whole apology, just a tiny portion, I promise.”

“You promised a lot to me while we were dating,” you scoffed.

“I was wrong to not tell my family about you—about us.”

“I know.”

He continued. “I made a huge mistake not telling you the truth from the start.”

“I know.”

“I was a huge asshole, y/n.”

“Please, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to meet my family because I was afraid they would scare you off and I would lose you for good.”

Oh? That was something you didn’t know. He took your lack of response as an indication to keep talking.

"As you're aware, my clan is one of the major sorcerer families in jujutsu society and because of that, they're very judgmental and total elitists. Since you're not from an influential family, I didn't know how they would react to me dating you. It's not right but I figured they wouldn't accept us being together. I didn't want you swept up in clan politics and become subjected to insults if I brought you to meet them."

As you thought about what he told you, the pieces all fell into place. There were signs here and there that Noritoshi didn't agree with his family's ideas most of the time, but had to hold his tongue as not to upset them and potentially lose out on being the next in charge.

"That... actually makes a lot of sense," you eventually replied, "but why didn't you just tell me that in the first place? I would've been much more understanding had I known how you were feeling."

"Because I was a coward and thought running from my fears would be easier than facing the fact that my family is so messed up," he confessed. "I hope you know that my intentions were good. I wanted to protect you so badly but I was the one that ended up hurting you. I am truly very sorry I lied to you and made you feel like you were the problem when it was my fault the whole time."

You leaned against your door, letting his words sink in. You had to admit, he did seem truly remorseful. He wouldn't have shown up on your doorstep, flowers and all, to tell you the truth if he didn't want to, especially since he was skipping a very important clan meeting to do so!

"I still would prefer if you didn't meet my family since they can be overcritical and cruel, and you deserve much more than that," he said, "but if you want to, I'd be honored to take you to dinner tonight and present to them my kind hearted, strong willed partner... if you'll still have me as a partner, that is."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "So you had a change of heart, then?"

"No change of heart, just change of mind."

You tried to contain your smile at his cheesy line but failed. "Fine. If you're sure, I'd love to come to dinner with you tonight. As your partner, of course. I never want to live in a world where I'm not by your side."

Noritoshi let out a huge sigh of relief, letting a smile fall easily on his lips as well. "You'll accept these flowers, then?"

"Of course I will." You took the flowers into your possession, smelling their sweet fragrance. "I love them, Noritoshi, and I love you."

"I love you too, y/n, that's why I'm here fighting for you instead of fighting boredom at the meeting."

You smirked. "I take it you don't like attending those?"

"I hate them. I really, really, hate them. But at least I know the dinner will be much more tolerable with you next to me."

You leaned over and brought Noritoshi into a kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours. You weren't sure what you were going to be walking into later that evening, but you knew you could conquer anything with Noritoshi.

[scumbagjaeger]

omg! I love the college major one! if you're still okay with requests, how would the guys be as a study partner ?

STUDYING WITH THE SNK MEN

starring: Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Porco, Reiner, Levi, Zeke

rating: mostly sfw! 18+

notes: Omg thank you!!! I'm always open for requests I'm just really slow with them lol. Since I was a history/english major, most of my homework in college was papers so I kind of framed these with them helping with a paper! I also love the idea of them pining for you a touch so some of these might be more geared around that, instead of an established relationship, but I think they're pretty versatile anyway haha. Enjoy!!(:

college majors

EREN:

It's rare for him to be seen actually doing school work

So when he sends you a text inviting you to do homework together, that's exactly what he's going to do, simple enough

He's probably extremely behind in like four classes oops

Eren prefers to study in the evenings, probably after hours in the library? So there's like no one there besides the other people way behind in their classes lol

I love basketball player Eren, so he's either wearing the same big hoodie and sweats that he wore during the day, or a clean shirt and shorts, wet hair from the post-practice showers, and maybe even his gym bag

If you have plans to meet in the usual spot, he'll have your favorite energy drink waiting for you when you get there

He'd probably be super nice to study with

After practice he's extremely chill, calm, asking about your day and what not while you pull out your laptop and papers

If you ask he'll tell you about how his practice went and what he's been up to, he's tired from a long day of school and what not but he's super comfortable around you, so it's just a nice vibe

He's a good listener, remembers the names of the professors you like and the guy you hate in your class

Once you're actually really to start studying he's extremely quiet, he lets you work in peace

Honestly the sounds of his keyboard is probably so comforting? The man is good with his fingers what can I say

You might catch him sneaking glances (or full on staring) at you here and there, bright green eyes poking up from behind his laptop screen

Lowkey he's looking for any reason to talk to you again

The second you acknowledge his gaze he'll start up a small conversation again

If you need his help he'll do the thing where he leans over you a touch

He definitely saw the pink on your ears when he did it the first time and now he will never not find an excuse to be that close to you lmaooo

If you're writing a paper, he'll read it after you're done and give you feedback, but he's not good at giving it??

"Yeah, seems good to me," or "I don't get this part", he doesn't really know how to explain it or provide specific advice about how to strengthen the analysis of your evidence lol sorry

Afterwards he might put a hand on your arm and ask "So... got any plans tonight?"

Lol it's like 1am but if you're down he might take you to get ice cream, or back to his place if you want to hang out there. If not he'll offer to drive you back to your apartment, he doesn't want you walking around late at night alone :)

JEAN:

He probably sucks to study with lmao so sorry

It's just hard to get him to stop talking and actually get work done?

Your conversations start to dwindle as you begin typing on your laptop and he just changes the topic

In his defense, you guys probably find time to study together either in between your classes or immediately after, so he's just kind of distracted with everything going on

He'll invite you to do homework together and he literally thinks it means work on your essay together and like write it together

And you'll have to explain that you can do your own paper while he studies and he's like "OH okay then"

But he'll offer to help you with it anyway, which would be really nice!!

He'll read the paper once to get a feel for it, almost scans through it which makes it seem intimidating but he's just a fast reader lol

He'll explain the paper back to you???? Like he'll tell you what he's got out of the paper, your thesis and your main points; if there's any general comments or miscommunications you guys can sort that out there, he helps you frame your paper better

Then he'll help you fine tune each paragraph and make sure the evidence and analysis is solid! He's probably the best with helping you with your papers because he's super supportive and patient

When you pause to ask for his input he'll smile and give you a nudge, "Hey, you've got this. I know it's tough but you're smart, you already know the content! (Y/N), you've got this, I believe in you"

And then he gets really pink in the face "Uh, yeah. So. Onto the next paragraph?"

Sometimes you will need to tell him to focus on his own work lol

Jean with glasses. That's it

If he's writing his own paper or reading one for class they're low on his nose

Looks like a model reading, holding the book in hold hand and barely dropping his gaze down to look at it

Writing notes that are indecipherable with his other hand lol

Jean reads aloud because it helps him focus and it's really cute okay

If you're stressed or you guys are in a public/busy setting he won't! He doesn't want to be distracting

But if he's comfortable with you you might hear him whispering quietly to himself

If you offer, he'll give you some context and ask you for your input about something he's stuck on!

Remembers when your papers are due and will ask you how you did on them a week or two later!

If you're frustrated about your grade or another upcoming paper he might send you a text before your weekly study session: "change of plans. wanna catch a movie in the park? they're playing a good one :)"

ARMIN:

Armin with the double major???

He has you studying together a couple times a week AT LEAST

I bet he holds 'tutoring sessions' where he invites a bunch of friends together to study and get help from him because he can whip out a 12 page paper in two hours tops

But Connie and Ymir derail these sessions

If you guys are studying alone together he's extremely helpful

He'd love to call them private sessions with you though lowkey?? I bet if y'all were together he'd even try and roleplay some sort of tutor thing, lil freak

Studying with you is a TOP priority. This man will cancel a doctor's appointment to study with you

He'll rent you out a study room in the library!!

Armin can actually pull strings with the librarians to reserve a room last minute, if you really need one!

Study rooms are nice because they have those big whiteboards to use and he'll fill one side with "(Y/N)'S PAPER" and have you go through everything about your paper

Title, intro, thesis, paragraph topics, evidence, analysis, conclusion...

Even if you have an outline already lol he just likes to write on the whiteboard, it makes him feel important

If you're dong a worksheet or something he'll also use the whiteboard for that!

Good luck if you're writing a paper about something he's knowledgeable on?? If it's history he can literally pull evidence (like a book, author, quote and page number) out of thin air for you to use

But he might try and take over your paper oops

"(Y/N), I totally get what you're saying about Hegel's religious theories serving as a metaphor for Germany's idealized and romanticized view on their newly formed state, causing the reign of the Third Reich during the 20th century, but would you agree that this idea extends BEYOND Hegel, and in fact combines the martyrdom of the empire and their warmongering tendencies to that thought?? Just an idea :)"

He's probably the smoothest when it comes to inviting you to do something after you study

He knows your favorite coffee shop is right next to the library, or he knows of a mini golf park that's half off for students

He writes down your exam dates and paper due dates in his calendar so he can remind you and ask you how you feel afterwards!

Before a big exam he'll surprise you with something like a gift card to your favorite coffee place or a flower omg I love him

IMMEDIATELY after your class ends, your phone goes off" "How'd the exam go!! Wanna tell me about it over lunch? :)"

CONNIE:

Sorry to any business majors but all my business friends had the easiest homework ever??

Like one of them had to redesign a monopoly board for their MIDTERM, so studying with Connie is probably more like arts and crafts lmao He’ll ask you to study with him when he notices you’ve been especially stressed or down

Connie’s got a real good skill at reading people I bet but he doesn’t show it?

He’ll check in occasionally but it can also be overwhelming when someone’s constantly looming over you while you’re stressed so he doesn’t do that!

But right in the heat of your semester, you’ve got like five different papers and projects due and you get a text from Connie saying he’s on his way to your apartment with food and a project

He makes some dumb excuse about needing to borrow some tape or something

He brings your favorite takeout and lightly forces you to eat it, put your books down and think about something else for ten minutes!

He points out that you’ll do your best work when you’re healthy and gives you a look

You guys probably study in silence for a bit before he finally breaks the tension

"So... stressed much?"

He'll let you rant to him about all of your classes, about your parents pressuring you, about how you're scared you're pushing away your friends by closing yourself off but you NEED to, everything

You'll feel him at your side, his hand rubbing your back gently

"(Y/N), you're like the smartest person I know. You don't have to prove anything to anyone about that. You're friends all know that exams are hectic, so you don't need to worry about us! I just worry about you when you stop taking care of yourself, (Y/N). So... let me take care of you, yeah? We'll get through this."

All-nighters aren't probably the healthiest thing, but Connie makes them fun and you guys are able to get through them without two pots of coffee

He let's you explain everything about your projects and he'll play devil's advocate a little bit during your essay, just asking you simple questions that you should answer in your paper. "--But why is that important?" and "--What about any opposing arguments?"

If you're memorizing terms for a quiz, he's making it a game, rewarding you with chocolate chips or something dumb whenever you ace your flashcards

Honestly he'd end up learning all of your terms too? I think a good way to learn something is to explain it to someone else (or just talk through it at least), so as you go through your terms and their definitions he is slowly starting to memorize them? He may not seem like the most studious person but he's definitely a quick learner

He also forces you to take breaks when you're starting to get overwhelmed though, which is also how you guys do his projects lol. "Why don't you put down your laptop and give yourself some space from your essay. Help me color in this poster and then we can look at your paper with fresh eyes, yeah?"

By the time your paper is done and your terms are all memorized, it's 4am and the sun is starting to peek through the tree line, and only then do you start to feel the weight of your overnight study session. Connie does too, and he nods towards your bedroom where you both collapse onto your mattress

"Don't go to class today," "What?" "C'mon, you need to sleep, you've got all your projects done, your paper is perfect, you need to sleep." and as he's pulling you towards him, rubbing your back, who are you to decline that offer?

Porco:

I feel like Porco is also very down-to-business, like Eren

Which can be extremely nice? He's very disciplined, so studying with him is perfect when you procrastinate too much and NEED to get your shit done

He probably gives you shit for procrastinating lol, sorry he just doesn't understand how you could do that to yourself?

He's an extremely busy guy, to the point where homework is probably fun for him, because it's the only thing he can really control (compared to his soccer practice and work schedule, that has set times)

Like he can get homework in class and then get it done immediately after, while the content is still fresh in his mind, and then his afternoon is free

So if you ask him to study with you sometime he might look at you a little funny because he doesn't really need to study that often?

But he's also a gentleman so he'll agree, inviting you over to his place sometime after soccer practice

He might save some homework to do in the evening with you, or he'll just sit there with a blank word document across from you because all of his homework is done LMAOO

But let's be real he'd never pass up a chance to spend some alone time with you

Love Porco to pieces but he's probably a bit dense when it comes to talking to people one on one?? Like people he's interested in

"Yeah, all the boys are playing COD right now and they want me to join but I said I had to study with you ://"

But then when you tell him that he can go play if he's done with his homework he's like "no shut up, stupid. I want to help you"

He'd lowkey be such a parent-type friend when it comes to studying at his apartment, like he has a dinky little platter of like vegetables out because it's good brain food, what a dork

You can convince him to order a pizza if you end up needing to stay later, and he orders your favorite toppings without you having to tell you what they are

"When Sasha and Niccolo hosted that make-your-own pizza thing two months ago, that's what you put on your pizza so I just figured that's what you liked I don't know"

When you ask him how much you owe him he just rolls his eyes. "Shut up and get back to writing your paper, dummy"

At one point he asks you how many pages your essay needs to be he is shocked??? He thought it was like a three page paper, so when you tell him it needs to be a minimum of twenty four pages he dies a little bit

"People have to write papers that long???" He might even call the pizza place back and order a dessert, paying the delivery charge and tipping a driver again just because he really had no idea that's why you were so stressed

You can definitely get him to take your mind off of studying by asking him about something relating to soccer or his family and he does not realize that you're doing it to get your mind off of your work, he's just happy to talk to you lol

Reiner:

He'd probably be similar to Porco in that he gets most of his homework done like right after class, it just makes more sense to him to do it that way

Like the content is fresh in his mind and then he doesn't have to worry about it

If it's a paper or something he just goes to the library immediately after class and gets lost in his research and then a couple hours later he leaves with at least half of it done, does the rest the next day

But I'm sure he still gets super stressed out about all his work

So when you ask him to study with you he's totally down, he could always review his notes for the 18th time!

When Reiner does need to study he cram studies in the most unhealthy way?? I bet he had a really healthy and disciplined way of studying in high school, but something about college and his anxiety just caused all of that academic discipline to go out the window

He could have a paper due in two months and if he puts it off for a day he starts to beat himself up over it :(

Still a good student obviously!! Just doesn't take care of himself as kindly as he should

When you guys study together it's different, because he'd hate to encourage you to treat yourself the same way he treats himself

You guys go and get lunch together before you study and he pays (duh), and he even suggests that you guys go on a walk or something before actually settling down to study

Maybe you talk about the work you need to done to plan what you need to get done today, what you can afford to put off until the next day, etc

Or maybe you talk about something else entirely, just about how nice the weather is! You both end up feeling refreshed and ready to get started once you make your way to the library

Since he's going to school for education he's probably extremely helpful when it comes to memorizing your terms and concepts

He'll make flash cards for the both of you with your respective content and you guys take turns quizzing each other

Unrelated but I bet he has decent handwriting?? But when he makes the flashcards for you both he makes sure it's all super neat and perfect, gets weirdly paranoid about misspelling a word or his handwriting looking bad, causing you to misspell a word on your exam day??

"Reiner, trust me, you're already helping me so much, I appreciate all you do for me!"

His face just goes bright red and he nods, unable to speak so he just goes back to making more flashcards

He'll print out your essay once you're done with it, paying the $0.94 per page charge for each draft, so he can highlight and annotate it for you

You explain to him that he can just edit it on his laptop but he refuses, he thinks he will do a better job editing with the hard copy in hand

Will 100% take you to get ice cream again once you guys are done studying, to recap how you did, whether you got done the stuff that you set out to, and plan another study date hangout

Levi:

I feel like Levi would be really intense when it comes to studying?

Like he just looks extremely focused in on his work, so it might seem like he's angry when you invite him to study with you in the library

But he insists that you go to his apartment instead. The library is going to be full of students trying to get their work done, and he can even cook for you afterwards, if you'd like

He writes down his apartment address and you agree to meet there at 3 o'clock sharp

When you get to his apartment there's classical music playing, he already has his laptop on with like four open books next to him so he can work on his literature paper

If you're also working on an English paper he has dozens of anthologies for you to borrow, if you're looking for a specific one he'll go to his bedroom (where he has a massive bookshelf) and will pull it out for you

"Bartleby the Scrivener? By Melville, yes? Hm, I think I have that in my seventh edition, let me--" and without waiting for response he's gone, and then he's back moments later with a massive text in his hand. He'll flip to it in the anthology and he'll set it on the table for you, "here, I've even annotated my copy"

Actually if you ask him to help you write your paper he would also be really helpful?? Very direct with it, but as long as you know that going into it, it's fine lol

I love the idea of him being a graduate student who teaches an undergrad/Intro to English Studies course, so he's extremely comfortable with helping you with your papers, even if they're not about English!

In group settings he can be really intense, and even though he's still extremely direct one-on-one, he is patient with you, and understanding as you explain what confuses you about your assignment

If you are going into this study session hoping for it to be a date of some sort, prepare to be disappointed because this man keeps his academics and his love life separate lol

Until he hears your stomach grumble!!

The second he does, he shuts his laptop and makes his way towards the kitchen to start dinner

"You can't do your best work on an empty stomach, and the noise will be distracting anyway," lmaoo

If you offer to help out he'll take it, maybe suggesting you prepare the vegetables while he makes the pasta sauce

He might brush a hand against the small of your back to signal you of his presence while reaching over to grab something next to you?? Like a spice or something

While you cook together, he'll ask you how your day was, he might even offer to pour you a glass of wine, so long as it doesn't spoil your appetite

He might smack your hand away from snacking on the vegetables you cook, but will also accept if you try and feed him one-- "to see if it's seasoned properly"!!

Levi would think about the taste for a second, humming with approval before turning back to focus on his entrée with a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks.

He will keep up this flirty energy all throughout dinner, but the second the dishes are washed and put away, he is opening up his laptop and going back to work, straight faced as ever oops

Zeke:

So cocky?? For no reason?? Someone put this man in a time out

"So you need my help, hm? I guess I can take a peek at your paper."

Even if you just ask to study with him, he's going to assume you need his help

Which can be nice if you're stubborn or have a hard time asking for help (like me lol)

He's extremely observant, so the moment you begin to reread a paragraph to see how to improve it, he's at your side. "Okay, what's the problem here"

He can tell by the way you furrow your brows, or the way you begin to read aloud quietly to yourself!! The man doesn't even understand why he's so lasered-in on you, he's basically studying you while you study lmao

I will always headcanon him as being a coach for a little league baseball team in his hometown, and he does most of his own homework on the train ride there and back

So when you ask him to study with you he's usually not doing much himself anyway, just there to help you out

Maybe he'll bring some papers to grad from the class he's TA'ing for, because he wants to show off a little bit hahahah

He'll even invite you to the classroom that he TA's in, because he knows that it's going to be empty by the time you finish your last class

Similar to Reiner, he'd prefer to edit your paper with a hard copy so he can 'grade it' with the rest of his undergrad essays, but he'll send you to the printer down the hall with his credit card, might even tell you to pick out something from the vending machine for yourself (they say chivalry is dead)

He's also extremely thorough though when editing your paper, gets so quiet that it's almost scary, but he's super encouraging and helpful with all of his notes, even just rewriting things for you in red ink in the margins

After he's finished he'll go through his revisions with you so that you understand why his rewrite of your thesis is stronger, more concise, so that in the future you know how to do it yourself

Not that he doesn't love to help you! But he wants you to learn the stuff

Honestly if he's helping you learn terms or remember concepts he is also using a whiteboard like Armin lol

I think Zeke would want to be a surgeon or oncologist to follow in his dad's footsteps, but I think he'd have a real gift for teaching and should go into that instead, he could teach one of his little league kiddos medical terminology and have them pass a test he's that good at teaching people

Talks with his hands a lot while he's explaining concepts to you, circles phrases and draws arrows connecting them to other ideas, basically acts as if he's a professor giving a lecture to you lol but it's okay because he looks hot doing it xoxo

He won't say much once you nail your practice term quiz or show him your final draft of your paper, just nod and give a little "hm, not bad, (Y/L/N)"

But deep down I think he'd be going crazy because Zeke loves an intelligent and competent partner?? I mean don't get me wrong he'd probably like someone less intelligent than him so he can a) feel better about himself and b) manipulate them without them knowing, but he'd be kind of speechless once he's aware of your intelligence and his heart is racing a little bit?? He doesn't realize he's experiencing feelings for the first time hahaha

For that reason, once you are done studying he is like "okay bye" and he is gone in like two seconds UNLESS you start up a conversation with him about little league, then you may be able to convince him to walk you back to your apartment (who's being manipulated now, Zeke)

AHH I'm so sorry this took so long!!! I hope you liked them!! My next set of headcanons is going to be some meet-cute scenarios that I think would lead to your relationship with the guys respectively, so this was tough!! I was torn between it being an established relationship or them kind of crushing on you/a study date-not-date type of thing?? But I really hope you liked them and I appreciate your patience with me :)

[sammyluvr]

People don't talk abt academic rivals trope with Sam enough. There's nothing I need more than to debate this competitive petulant "umm actually" mf. He is such a quick learner and so kinddd (he tutors other students!). But with the reader? Also a competitive petulant mf? Absolute war. Teacher needs to stage an intervention every once in a while to ensure everyones safety. The students in the class are texting their parents to come and pick them up bc their scared. Teachers either trying to make both of them even more competitive or trying to play matchmaker. I acc hate the booktok thing where the guy pulls something like "hE liEs WhEn sHe AsKs HoW mUch hE got oN the tEst to lEt hEr Winn" NO. Sam is going to be so mean (lovingly in a I have such a bad crush on this person I need to be put down kinda way trust.) when he gets a better score than you. He also holds sm respect for the reader not only because Sam is abnormally (he took a gender studies class ur honor) chilvarious, but bc he isn't an asshole. God I need this so bad.

🛻- anon out

mean in a "I have such a bad crush on this person I need to be put down kinda way" I'M CACKLING LMAO THAT'S SO HIM HAHA i love this so much actuallyyyy ugh. sam who's kinda mean to you because he needs to feel good about himself but who can't actually be truly mean to you because he respects you too much. sam who is secretly in awe with the way that you think and problem solve and just act and look in general. and wants so badly to just have a civil conversation (that lasts for ten billion hours because you both have so much to say and you stimulate each other's brain and make the other think in new and interesting ways). but he can't because you have this established dynamic and he's too prideful to be the one to switch things up. and he also thinks you're hot when you get worked up about this shit. and cute also.

sam who gets pissy and annoyed as all hell when you do better than him on something, but wants to ask you about it and hear you explain it. sam who gets furious when you gloat but wants to be the one who tells you he's proud of you for doing so well. sam who gets caught staring and tells you there's something between your teeth to play it off and tease you.

sam who needs an external force to push the two of you together (because you're just a prideful and stubborn as he is), but sam who breaks first and kisses you passionately after fighting, but embarrassingly tripping and falling over you while trying to walk away all haughtily. sam who still argues and competes with you when you start dating, but now gets to kiss you for doing well on an exam and have those all-nighter conversations. sam who never stops telling you how smart you are and how sweet you are and how much he loves you and still calls you dumbass at least twice a day (remedies it will kisses to your knuckles)

[jillsandwhichs]

Our Future Day's

Joel Miller x Reader series , Chap 1 , Move in day

Masterlist

Pairing: Fem!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You officially move from oregan to texas and get to meet your very new & handsome neighbor, Joel

WC: 3.1k

Type: SFW

Some thing's you need to know before reading: this is a series, not a one shot collection! you (the reader) already have a semi premade backstory. first off, you're originally from oregon. you studied at med school and got a job offer in texas to become a doctor, which you took. you are 23 in this but if you don't like that, imagine any age (18+) and i did make joel younger 26 (until the 20 year time jump, he'll be 46) but he does still have sarah, just pretend it's not wonky LMAO! one more thing, ya have a dog in this fic, he's a boy but imagine any breed you'd like! aside from that, this is tlou game version but i included some sides from the show! a couple more things: 1. all characters from tlou1/2 will be mentioned/featured. 2. this takes place before outbreak, then eventually outbreak day, then eventually in the apocalypse. 3. this is a slow burn romance (drabbles of it in each chapter though, esp when it progresses) and does feature a decent amount of smut. 4. JOEL NEVER DIES!!!

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you matched the beat of the song playing on your cars radio. It was a song by Blake Shelton. You weren't a huge fan of him but he had some classics. It has been such a long day for you. You've been driving for the past two hours, not a single break in between. You just wanted to get to your new home as soon as you could. You could tell your dog, Becker, needed to go potty as well. He'd just have to hold out.

The GPS on your phone stated you were only about ten minutes away. The center of Austin TX was busy as all hell, so that time span could get longer by the second. So many cars & people flooded the streets. "God dammit." You mumbled to yourself, rolling your eyes as you seen all the upcoming traffic ahead. This was going to be a long night. You had no clue when you'd even be able to get into bed. Then again, it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, almost evening.

Behind you, in the backseat, you could hear Becker whimpering & whining. "Don't worry boy, we're almost home, just a little bit longer." You cooed to him, reaching your right hand back and allowing him to lick you. You got Becker as a graduation gift a few weeks ago. You two have bonded ever since. You were never a cat person, dog's were more of your style. "You'll be able to go potty soon." You said to him, pulling your hand back up and holding onto the wheel.

Traffic wasn't going as slow as you intended, was traffic always going to be like this though? This ain't going to be pleasant if so. Especially working for the hospital. Imagine an emergency happens and you're needed but the roads are packed, that's going to be one helluva time. But, you wanna think positively. You missed your family too. It's going to be hard without them, especially your mom. She is your number one supporter and without her in the same home as you, it'll be a large change.

You turned the radio up, hearing the country music blast throughout your car but not loud enough to scare your dog. Dogs ears are sensitive and you didn't wanna bother him further than he already was. No doggo wants to be stuck in a car all day, especially in this heat. Despite it being early September, it was still quite warm out. That's another big change from Oregon, you imagine that back home, it's either really windy or heavily raining. The change could be nice though.

The sound of Becker panting was clear as day, it only made you feel more guilty. "Hold on baby." You muttered to him before you then rolled your window down and the window directly behind you, not a lot though, you didn't want him to jump out or something. Through your rearview mirror, you could see his slobbery tounge blowing in the wind as he stuck his head out the window. "Hah, good boy!" You giggled, turning left onto the exit, finally getting off of this miserable highway.

Finally, the road wasn't full anymore. It was a downtown rural area now, cars slowly made their way through the town. Austin is busy, yes, but this side of it, not so much. The only logical reason it was super busy on the highway and earlier roads was because people are getting/going to work. Your first day at the hospital is on Monday. You were nervous but in a great way. You have been non stop thinking about it. All of the work you've put in and you're officially where you wanted to be. Life was going good... For once...

You passed by all sorts of different places. Gas stations, fast food chains, locally owned stores & stands, it felt so honey. Back in Oregon, you lived in the center of the city, it was always so lively and never calm. Austin is like that too but not as bad, and definitely not as bad as Dallas is. You were grateful you didn't end up moving there or even somewhere that was worse. Austin was a good enough fit for you.

The GPS showed you were only a minute or two away from home, your heart was racing a bit. You've never been on your own before and you least expected it to be in a completely different state. Luckily, a week from now, you'll be going back home for the weekend. It'll be comforting. You'll definitely make sure to call your family everyday, you made sure they knew that too. They'd have to simply put up with it.

You could tell you were getting closer due to the change in scenery. There weren't any establishments around these parts, just either compact or extensive suburban homes. You actually used to make fun of those perfect American families who lived in these types of areas but look at you now. Back home, you lived in a small house, only two bedrooms but you were an only child so it was never a problem. You did wish for siblings growing up but you understand now that if you had some, things would be a whole lot different.

As you turned left, the tracker built into your phone made a dinging noise, indicating you had arrived at your destination. It wasn't wrong. Just to the left, you could see your newly purchased home. It made your heart skip a beat. Not only were you nervous but you were also so happy. You glimmered as you pulled right into the driveway and set your car in park. You could tell Becker knew this was your guy's new home, his whimpers weren't ones of boredness but rather excitement. "One second." You sighed out before getting out of the car.

Stepping out of your car, you sighed softly as you breathed in the fresh air. The smell of outside was always so welcoming. You grabbed your purse out of your car too and swung it across your shoulder. It was a brown leather purse with an embroidered strap. You then opened up the backseat so Becker could jump on out. "Stay over here buddy." You chuckled out, scratching the top of his head a few times before closing both doors. You had quite a bit of stuff in your trunk & backseat but you hired a truck to drive all of your other belongings here. It wouldn't be there for another day or so.

Becker ran off to the side of the house to go potty ; You trusted him enough to not run off. He was a good dog. You went to the back of your car and popped open your trunk. It was a mess but everything you needed for the night was in there. You even bought an air mattress, your back would die trying to sleep on a wooden floor. You grabbed the first two boxes, they weren't very big, and set them on the concrete of your driveway. They just had toiletries in them.

You grabbed out another box, this one was a bit bigger than the other two. It had all of your kitchen appliances in it. You were excited to cook your very first dinner in your very own home. You already decided on making Pesto Pasta, one of your favorites. In your trunk, there was the air mattress box. It wasn't going to be the best way to sleep but it'd have to suffice for the night, your proper bed should be in either tomorrow or on Sunday.

Whilst grabbing out the air mattress, you heard the sound of a truck driving past and pulling into the driveway across from you. They must've been your neighbors. Your neighbors back home weren't the nicest. There were the Johnson's so were beyond uppity and thought they were better than everyone else, they lived beside you. Then there was Cassandra and Cody, they were your age and pretty kind except they were literal kleptos.

You ignored the truck behind you, just trying to get everything you needed for the night. You could hear Becker barking but you didn't know what it was he was doing it at. You figured a wild animal, maybe a bunny or a stray. Becker was actually from a shelter, you'd never buy an animal from PetSmart or whatever. "Becker, quit your barking!" You shouted at him, nudging him to come over to you. Maybe he wasn't good with new environments.

You placed the last cardboard box from your trunk on top of another one, shooting your eyes to look at Becker. He was looking at the truck across the street, barking at it. "Oh boy, quit it." You spoke out to him but he didn't listen. You went to grab onto his collar but right as you did, he bolted off into their driveway. He was a friendly dog, you didn't think he'd do anything bad, he was just inquisitive, but it was still bad of him to run off like that.

"Becker!" You yelled, jogging across the street to grab him. You watched as two men got out of the black truck. The one in the driver's seat had a mullet and lighter hair than the other man, he also seemed shorter. The other one though had short dark hair, although you couldn't tell if it was purely brown or black. He was well built, along with the other man. Were they brothers? That's the only assumption that came to mind.

Once you reached their driveway, you grabbed Becker and pulled him back to you. The man getting out of the passenger seat looked back at you and had a puzzled look before letting out a chuckle beneath his breath. "Listen, I'm so sorry, he's just curious." You sighed out. Becker was now listening as he sat down right by your feet. "Sorry, we'll be out of your hair." You giggled, beginning to turn around before you heard the man's voice speak up.

"You just move in across the street?" He asked you, his voice sounded southern and it was very deep. "Oh uhm, yeah, just got here tonight actually." You said kindly, looking back at him again. "Well, welcome then, and to your dog." He snickered out. "I'm Joel, this is Tommy." Joel spoke deeply, pointing over at the other man. You let the two men know your name before asking them whether or not they were brothers, and they were. You weren't surprised, they did share similar facial features.

"Where are you from?" Joel raised, his arms crossed. His arms were huge, he definitely has a nice body. "I'm from Oregon." You said softly, placing your slender hands onto your waist. "Damn, that's a long ways out. What made you move all the way here?" "Got a job offer at the hospital." You said with a titter, his accent was thick. "Oh, you a nurse or something?" He questioned, leaning up against his truck. "No, a doctor. Recently gradated from medschool." You explained, glancing over at his brother as he walked into the house. Maybe they lived together.

"Well how bout that? I'm just a contractor." "That's nice." You added, tucking strands of your thin hair behind your ear. "Yeah, yeah, well I'll let you continue settling in. If you need any help with uh larger furniture, me and my brother can stop by, we helped the Adler's when they first moved in." Joel said with a deep voice, pointing his index to the home beside his. "That would be great, thanks, luckily I don't have to deal with the bullshit of larger furniture today, it'll be in either tomorrow or Sunday."

"Alrighty, well, you have yourself a good evening. See you." Joel said with a sly smirk, slowly inching backwards. "You too, Joel." You gave him a slight smile before patting Becker to follow behind you. You made your way across the street, allowing Becker to run around in his new yard. You took a gander back and seen Joel looked back at you before entering his home. When you saw his eyes on you, you felt a deep pit in your stomach. Nothing bad, rather just glee or something. You couldn't pin it.

Around your neck was a lanyard, it had the key to your home, you assumed it was locked. At least you hoped, you don't want any squatters inside. You unlocked the white door and opened it, stepping inside of it. The sunset beamed in through the windows throughout the house. It was still dark though, every single light was switched on. The seller said you'd have to go to the basement to switch them all on. That sounded like a fun time!

One by one, you dragged each box into the home, keeping some on the floor and placing some on the island counter. You didn't plan on unpacking any of it tonight, you were restless and just wanted to lay down for the night, despite it only being 5 PM. The more sleep you get, the easier it'll be tomorrow. You definitely had to get a lot of sleep Sunday considering on Monday, you start your first day. Even though it's just training, you wanna be as awake as possible.

You ambled towards the front door again and away from the kitchen to call Becker in. He'd have to deal with the floor for the night. He is a cuddly dog, he loves big comfy areas but without a bed or a couch, there's no way. "Becker!" You said with a rowdy voice, "C'mon baby." He came running over to you and past your legs, going into the house and treading around like a mad man. "Oh good boy." You chuckled, petting him gently.

You walked back over to the kitchen and grabbed the air mattress, you needed to get it open and blown up. It was sealed to a T, your nails were definitely not enough to get it open. Striding towards the appliances box, you opened it up and searched through it, taking out a knife to slice it open. You are quite clumsy so you were praying you wouldn't stab the mattress on accident. It didn't help that Becker felt the need to push himself up against you, seeking attention & love as if he's starved from it.

"Back off boy." You snorted, pulling the mattress out of it's box. It was all wrinkled up and looked compact. Although it was the size of a Full. You straightened it out on the living room floor, you didn't feel like carrying it all the way up the stairs. It came with a machine to blow it up and you connected it to the black cylinder hole, turning it on and hearing the loud blowing noise it was making. You didn't have any pillows, they were all packed up in that truck but luckily, you had a blanket, it was the one you let Becker use in the backseat when you were driving.

"You stay here mister." You stated out to Becker before beginning to make your way out of the front door to take the blanket out from the car. As you went outside, you noticed a bright light was on in Joel's house, just in one room though. You could also see the shadow of a smaller person's body walking through said room. Did he have a girlfriend? Or did Tommy have one? Maybe it was Tommy's. You convinced yourself of that at least.

After grabbing the blanket, you walked back inside and seen Becker already making himself a spot on the bed, despite it barley being inflated. "You little shit." You grinned, tossing the fuzzy blanket on top of him. Guess you were going to have to share.

The bed was officially ready to be slept on, you haven't been this excited to sleep in a very long time. Back home, you dreaded it. You would stay up all night, doing different stuff. Whether it was studying, painting, reading, working out, etc.. You were always doing something new. With Becker, it's been better. You're an affectionate person and he is as a dog. It may be a rough night, it always is sleeping somewhere new, but with him it may be easier.

Pulling the machine away from the bed, you turned it off and climbed underneath the blanket, feeling immediate warmth. The Texas heat also played a part in that. Back in Oregon, you had a heater beside your bed to help, you definitely didn't need one here. "Alright." You whispered to yourself, Becker lying right beside your feet, his fur was cozy. You were originally going to turn the lights on to your home but honestly, you were scared to go down there all alone, a pitch black basement? No thanks.

Trying to sleep in a new area was hard. You felt homesick. You miss your old room, the house noises, the feeling of it. You lived there your entire life, now you're thousands of miles away. Becker probably felt that way too, especially with how he connected with your father, they bonded. A week from now though, you'd be able to see them. It'd be easier. Another thing you couldn't stop thinking about was that man - Joel.

He seemed so different. He was kind & understanding, and that's just simply based on the short conversation the two of you had together. He was so willing to help you out, no one else was like that. It was a sweet welcoming. He was also very handsome. All the men back home weren't like that. That glimmer in his eyes wasn't something to ignore. It was the way he gazed at you that had you wrapped around the thought of him.

That brother of his was good looking too, definitely not as much, but either way. Were they both contractors? It appeared as though they had just left work so maybe they work together. And who was that smaller person walking throughout his house earlier? Had to be a girlfriend. A daughter? No way, the two of them looked to young to even have children. There was still a chance though, teen pregnancies aren't uncommon. You presume you'll deal with a lot of them as a Doctor.

Your eyes felt more & more heavy. Becker's deep breathing made you weary too. The pitch blackness of the room was helpful ; White sound would've been helpful too. Sleeping in complete silence was torture. All you could really hear was your dog and your own breathing. You were completely spent for the day. And you were ready to hit the hay.

Divider Creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[team-118]

ok I decided I don't actually care if I get prompted or not I'm just gonna start writing so. lmao. enjoy!

Eddie-centric, Chris and Eddie, pre-201, 1.1k, on ao3

Inspired by this post by @hunybody which gave me fucking brainworms.

65. I'll help you study.

Tomorrow, he starts at the 118.

The words had started swimming off the page hours ago. Eddie’s temple is fucking throbbing, but he can't look away from the textbook splayed out in front of him. He knows that if he looks up now, he'll come face to face with the brick of a digital clock he's had since high school - reading some ungodly time like three in the morning, probably.

Instead, he rubs his knuckles over his blurry eyes and starts tracing another diagram. At this point, he could draw the blood vessels in the human arm in his sleep - and honestly, he might be doing it asleep right now - but he refuses to take any chances.

Tomorrow, he starts at the 118.

Eddie can't really remember the last time he wanted something to go well so badly. He was a good student until senior year, kept his grades up enough to keep his mother happy and to earn the occasional nod of approval from his father. He had half-formed dreams, this wispy idea of the person he grew up wanting to be. He knows how to study. (Knows this isn't it.)

But then there was Shannon, and then the army, and then Chris, God, Chris. He wouldn’t take it back, not when it gave him Chris. But sometimes, he misses the feeling of being…genuinely good at something. Working his ass off, and then watching it pay off. Burning himself up with how bad he wants something, until his eyes sting and his fingers burn and there's the cold, fiery satisfaction of knowing he's truly given it his all. Knowing what the fuck he’s doing with his hands. Eddie doesn't really get that, these days - not between three dead-end jobs and the voice that keeps telling him to quit while he's ahead, which sounds a little too much like his mother for comfort. Maybe he could get it in LA.

And he's good at firefighting, is the thing. He didn't really keep in touch with anyone from the Academy, doesn’t have much to compare to, but he figures that having two stations fighting over him is a good sign. And when that one instructor had kept him after class (while Eddie distractedly checked for texts about Christopher) and told him to consider the paramedic route, it hadn't been for nothing. And when he had the fastest time in his class for that baby fire rescue drill, forcing himself to control his breathing when all he could hear were Christopher’s cries, it meant something.

Eddie could do this. He could really do this. He wasn't going to strut into the firehouse with an ego - had too much shit on his plate to even pull it off, really - but he wasn't about to spend his probie year as the man behind on all his shifts. Talk is cheap, though, and Eddie is a man of his word, which brings him back to this: anatomy diagram, flashcards scattered, the dim light of his bedside table lamp and the dogged kind of determination that Eddie hasn't really felt about his career in, well, maybe ever. And the clock next to him, which reads 3:17 AM.

He forces himself to exhale. The little crescent moons his nails are digging into his palms are going to leave a mark, but they'll be gone by the time his alarm rings. Tomorrow, he's Staff Sergeant Diaz, on his way to Firefighter Diaz - competent, unflappable, earning his title. No one needs to know how fucking hard he's fighting to tread water.

Eddie finishes up the drawing, goes to flip the page, and ends up knocking over the glass of water he'd sat down with. Thankfully, the plastic doesn't shatter, but the liquid soaks into his socks in seconds. The cold hardwood under him does nothing to muffle the clatter as it falls.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eddie mutters to himself, clearing his notes and books out of the way. Shit, Christopher. He freezes, halfway crouched, not daring to breathe in case his son stirs.

The only sound is the tick of the clock in the hallway. He breathes again, trying to make as little noise as possible while he cleans up his mess. He almost gets away with it, too.

“Daddy?”

Eddie whirls around, gasping, hand to his heart on instinct. It makes Chris giggle.

“You look like someone out of Abuela's movies,” he tells Eddie around a smile. His crutches click on the floor as he comes closer, and Eddie’s glad the water is gone so he won't slip.

“Aren't you supposed to be asleep, Superman?” Eddie asks Chris lightly, pulling him in for a hug.

“You're not asleep,” Chris pouts, and Eddie can feel it in his shoulder. God, this kid.

“No,” Eddie admits, sighing. “No, I was thinking about tomorrow.”

“Are you nervous?” Chris's eyes are huge, round like a full moon.

“Yeah, buddy, I'm a little nervous,” Eddie tells him. “But I'll be okay. I've got my good luck charm right here, don't I?” He kisses Christopher’s cheek, wet and messy so Chris will squirm in his hold and laugh again.

“Daddy!” Chris squeals, and Eddie tickles him until Chris is kicking before he picks him up, spins him around, and deposits him safely on Eddie’s bed.

Chris looks up at him, breathless, bright. He picks up the diagram Eddie had been working on, discarded on the bed next to Chris. Chris looks at it intently, eyebrows furrowed, considering.

“I'll help you study,” he tells Eddie seriously.

“Chris, you need to be in bed.”

Chris crosses his little arms. “So do you. I'm not going if you're not going.”

And, well, the kid's got a point.

“Nothing gets past you,” Eddie sighs, lying down next to Chris. He grins back, big and toothy.

“What's that on your forehead?” Chris asks, reaching out to touch.

“Hm?”

“You have lines.” Chris’s little index finger runs between his eyebrows, smoothing out the creases.

“Oh, um,” Eddie falters. “I guess it happens sometimes when you get older and you worry about things. Your forehead gets all tense.”

Chris is fascinated. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really.” Chris pushes, testing. Eddie winces. “Okay, sometimes. Ouch. A little.”

Chris smiles up at him. “You'll fix them, Daddy. In your big red firetruck.”

“Yeah.” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat. “Yeah, I'll try.”

“I know you can do it,” Chris tells him, voice fading into a sleepy whisper.

Eddie pulls him in by the back of his head, kissing his forehead. “Thank God for you, kid.”

“Love you,” Chris mumbles. “I helped,” he says, all quiet and proud.

Eddie laughs under his breath. “You always do, Superman.”

If you want to send me a prompt you can do it from here.

[kiwiana-writes]

4, 6, 9 and 19- or any combination of those if that's too much!

4. Do you write original stories as well?

2024 is the year of the original novel, baby! I may have done more, like, setting up a website/Substack/Airtable writing tracker/etc than actual writing at the moment, but in my defence I'm still wrapping up my freelancing obligations this month lmao

6. What is a fandom you will never write for?

You know, it's hard to say 'never' because... I never know what's going to grip me. I never would have predicted that I'd write a fic for the TV adaption of The Last of Us, or that I'd walk out of the theatre after going to see a queer Christmas movie and rage-write an alternate ending in three hours.

So I'll take a slightly different approach to this question and instead say a fandom I'll never write for again, and that's HP. I respect the hell out of the authors who have gone full death of the author about it and reclaimed the world they love to make it better, I really fucking do. But I pulled my HP fics down from AO3 when I realised that seeing the author's name on my fandoms list, on my profile, was just... really fucking with my little trans non binary head.

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

This question is cruel. CRUEL. I have never picked a favourite anything in my life. Here's a few things I'm vibing with RIGHT NOW, but the answer may change in a month or a week or an hour lol.

Going Platinum by @cricketnationrise - always, but especially now as cricket works through the sequel. I feel very taken care of by this fic and have reread it a truly embarrassing number of times.

I really hope I can get him alone by @clottedcreamfudge - the Henry POV of Kinda think that I might be his type aka Alex and Bea fake date. I am just. iu4oqhurfriehngfuqernugoenuogre.

In His Wildest Dreams by @myheartalivewrites - I bang on about Oxford Days by this author a lot (and for good reason) but FUCK this one is beautiful. I am forever a sucker for the psychology of kink.

Noble Blood by @orchidscript - currently a WIP, somewhat based on The King's Assassin by Benjamin Wooley which is the book Mary & George is based on. And like... here's the thing. I picked up pretty quickly coming into this fandom that The Thing Orchid Is Known For is researching the absolute living fuck out of her fics, and like... I respect it, but I also didn't really think about it much, because while deep-dive knowledge is fun, as long as something's plausible enough that it doesn't pull me out of the story I'm along for the ride, you know? But this fic. THIS FIC is based in a time period I am very familiar with (my focus was always Tudor England, but you don't study that time period without picking up a lot of knowledge of the decades either side of it) and like... I get it now. Reading a historical fic where you know so much about the time period, and seeing all these tiny little details sprinkled throughout that, like, aren't actually required for the plot but are just weaving the tapestry of the world... fuck me, it's an entire different experience.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by @anincompletelist - currently a WIP, I believe it's due to be completely posted by the end of January? But y'all it's so fucking engaging and I am loving the journey so much.

When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse - forever on my fairytale bullshit as y'all know and this one is EXCELLENT.

You love me! You love me? by anarchyat4am - god. GOD. I don't even know what to say about this one other than PLEASE READ IT. Trans Alex and one of my favourite tropes, quietly falling into a relationship.

19. Dead or overused tropes?

I am an extremely firm believer that there is in fact no such thing. People are forever coming up with new twists on tropes, and even fics that play tropes totally straight are infused with the author's voice or experience or whatever. If I didn't want to enjoy the comfort of the familiar, I would probably not be engaging with fic in the first place 🤣

[Ask game for fanfic writers]

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

I have so much work to do, it isn't even funny, and here I am, doing none of it. So, instead of just sitting in front of my computer and letting anxiety eat me up, I'm going to see how married life is treating Minglan.

I have three shows that I am actively watching right now. It's a battle to choose which one to watch at any given time. The struggle is real 😫

***

Well, he's feeling energetic the morning after 😅

***

LMAO, OK, so I know that the implication here is that he has great stamina and wore her out, but, honestly, my first thought was that she must have been doing all the physical work of their first night together, so she's now tired and he's up and about doing acrobatics 🤣🤣

***

LMAO, I'm on her side here!

Sleep above all!

To hell with the shitty in-laws.

***

What a thing to tell your newly-wedded wife!

Yikes 😬

***

LMAOOOO 🤣🤣

Hopefully he, ahem, learned other skills at the brothel instead 🤣🤣

He's so fully of nonsense, I cannot 🤣🤣

***

Ugh, these vipers.

The sooner they move out, the better.

***

Who?

***

AGAIN, WHO??

Honestly, my stance for this drama is that anyone who wants to commit suicide should be allowed to 🙄

***

Wait, is she implying that Gu Tingye is sleeping with this woman?

Because, seriously? SERIOUSLY??

Now they are straight-up lying to stir up trouble in their marriage! AND THIS IS, LIKE, THE FIRST DAY!! 🤬🤬

Minglan, don't be an idiot. Don't believe them!

***

Oh, and the lot of you are soooooo worried about how some random servant who is sleeping with the master of the house is going to live 🙄🙄

I cannot with the what-the-fuckery on display here 🤬🤬

GU TINGYE, WHERE ARE YOU?

THIS IS SLANDER!!

***

Even if any of this was true, WHO GIVES A FUCK??

OK, so, personal story time. Skip for TMI, or something. IDC.

When I was nineteen, I was living away from home for the first time in a dormitory and I had these roommates. I was a very stupid, naive, sexually inexperienced, frontal-cortex-still-entirely-udeveloped nineteen. I was studying architecture, the hours were ridiculous, the living conditions were atrocious (and I mean no hot water, communal toilets for the entire floor, no privacy whatsoever, perpetually drunk, eternally partying next-door neighbours bringing creepy men over, it was absolute hell with no recourse) and I was really, really struggling to keep afloat.

My self-esteem also wasn't the greatest and I'd spent my entire teens feeling unlovable and unattractive because, idk, I didn't look like Naomi Campbel, and was told from numerous sides that being some random average girl was just not enough. My mental health went down the drain that year and it never really recovered. I hadn't been doing particularly great even before that, but it was like that whole hellish mess snapped some final thread in me and it was just a downward spiral after downward spiral for years after that. It took an additional ten years to get diagnosed and put on meds because everyone is just so stupid and when you are young, you don't know how to advocate for yourself, or even that you should be doing so.

And then there were these roommates.

There were three of them, all older than me, and we lived in this tiny twelve-square-metre room with three single beds (two of them had to share because one of them was a friend who was there "illegally" because she had lost her right to accommodation for repeating the year and didn't want to go back to her parent's home for the time being and I was too stupid to put my foot down, report her and tell her to fuck off). The two legal ones were sisters.

And let me tell you, I was so in AWE of them! All three were tall, beautiful, put together and confident! They were incredibly popular and had men crawling all over them. I felt pathetic in comparison. I wasn't jealous, not exactly, I just felt inadequate and held the two sisters on this incredibly high pedestal because they seemed so smart and gorgeous (not so much the friend, because even though she was beautiful too, she had this self-absorbed, self-centred, flighty, shallow character that I just couldn't respect). The sisters, however, were everything I wished I could be, especially the younger one.

That particular sister, let's call her M, was also studying architecture. She was in year four (compared to my miserable first year) and she was doing so well, her work was amazing. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was the epitome of elegance, intelligence and beauty in my eyes. She could do no wrong. Hero worship was in full swing, I couldn't imagine she could be any more perfect even if I tried.

And then a few months into our hellish living arrangement, I found out that she was fooling around with this worthless guy who was cheating on his long-term girlfriend with her. They had an on-again-off-again relationship. They had broken up before because he refused to leave the official girlfriend, but for whatever reason, she was in love with his mediocre ass and kept going back to him. I was shocked when the whole story came out. There she was, the most perfect girl I had ever known, letting this cheating loser string her along like that. It was gross.

Let me tell you, that pedestal I put her on came crumbling down so fast because even my infatuated, naive, sleep-deprived and chemically imbalanced brain knew this was very wrong (it took me several more years and another incident with a woman I was super close to and had adored for years to teach me not to mess with cheaters and the people they cheat with because they are always fundamentally deficient in some hidden (or not so hidden) ways and that whatever damage they have that lets them act in this way will eventually drag you down too, but I digress).

In my shock, I asked her, why? Of all people, why him? This girl was so gorgeous, she could have had any man on the planet. She said they were in love. And I asked her, if he loved her so much, why didn't he break up with his girlfriend (mind you, the girlfriend fully thought they were getting married sometime in the near future). It seemed so obvious to me, if he truly loved her, he should have ended his previous relationship and dated her openly.

AND SHE TOLD ME THIS EXACT SAME LINE. THIS COMPLETE BULLSHIT OF A MANIPULATIVE EXCUSE.

Apparently, the shitty cheater couldn't break up with the girlfriend because the girlfriend had sworn that if he broke up with her, she would never marry anyone else and stay single her whole entire life. And he, the poor baby, couldn't live with that, so he couldn't leave her 🤯🤯

I had never heard something more ridiculous in my life. It was so absurd, and it was so world-altering for me that this perfect girl, the girl I had thought was so put together and so incredibly smart, was TAKING THIS UTTER STUPIDITY SERIOUSLY. I still remember it so clearly, even after all these years. It didn't make sense then and it still doesn't make sense now. It's the XXI century!! Break up with the woman you don't love!! What the hell is this nonsense?? WHO THE FUCK CARES IF SHE DECIDES TO NEVER MARRY ANYONE ELSE? IT IS NO LONGER YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!!

Also, all these people were in their early fucking twenties, the absolute delusion that any of her threats (if they were even real and not made up by the loser cheater because all cheaters ever do is lie) were in any way a real and enforceable thing that would come to pass. BUT EVEN IF SHE NEVER DID GET MARRIED? SO FUCKING WHAT? NOT YOUR CIRCUS, NOT YOUR MONKEYS.

And there she was, sneaking around with this garbage man because he gave her this nonsensical excuse. The stupidity is unending. I cannot. I could not and will never be able to can 🙄🙄

And back to the actual show now.

WHO THE FUCK CARES IF SHE NEVER MARRIES? WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT BLACKMAIL IS THAT? FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF AND THEN KEEP FUCKING OFF SOME MORE UNTIL YOU DROP INTO A DEEP BLACK HOLE AND KEEP DROPPING UNTIL YOU REACH THE EARTH'S CORE AND DISINTEGRATE IN THE LAVA.

Ugh.

***

WHO THE FUCK CAAAAAARES 🤬🤬

Also, let's not forget that these are the very people who wanted to murder Manniang and Gu Tingye's actual children with her. They are so concerned with the status of a lower-class servant sleeping with the Young Master and how she will raise her head in public and go on living. So, so, so concerned 🙄🙄

***

Minglan, please tell them to fuck all the way off.

I am beyond pissed.

***

OMFG.

I am beyond sick of these wretched bottom feeders and their "path of survival" 🤮

BITCH, DIE.

***

True! Let's all ask him!!

I am sure he will just love all this slander.

This whole thing is just beyond WTF.

***

What exactly were her parents supposed to teach her?

Just take in some random prostitute for her husband the day after she was married? What the actual fuck is wrong with this woman? Worms for brains, I swear. The audacity is astounding.

***

OH MY GOD, THEN GO DIE ALREADY

I am so tired 🙄

***

This dumb fucking bully.

The best thing that ever happened to women was emancipation and no longer having to live in their in-laws' homes.

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LMAO, how many statuses do these mistresses that the wife is forced to support even have?

Fuck off with this bullshit.

***

MINGLAN, ARE YOU SERIOUS

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LMAO, wait, what?

They accused him of raping this woman?

Speechless.

Gu Tingye, please take your wife and fuck off from this place.

***

LMAO, Gu Tingye keeps making good life choices!

Gu Tingye is not among my favourite characters by a long stretch, but I do appreciate him so very much!

Go, king! Protect your wife and stay winning!!

***

Don't you just love it when utterly disgraceful people start blathering about not getting the respect they feel entitled to 🙄

Gross family.