#i remember drawing him for the first time while i was teaching at a summer school

[nerolikestowander]

Random ass beatle sketches I did over the course of two years that I never shared anywhere (plus one paul simon)

[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present but nothing inappropriate b/n reader and Itadori as the vessel, Innuendos, Allusions to + Vaguely described sex so avoid accordingly, Mildly Possessive and Jealous Satoru. Will add more CW to each chapter if needed.

WC: 5.3k

A/N: Some pining and part 2 of the Gojo/Reader flashback

Chapter 4

Sukuna is holding your arm tight against your back. The position arches your spine forward and emphasizes the rapid rise and fall of your chest. His breath ghosts over your ear as he lowers his head down so his cheek is hovering near yours, and no amount of struggling is going to break you from the strength of his grip. 

“Again,” you grit out, but Sukuna must be finished humoring you because he does not set you free and urge you into the coverage of the trees that line the garden. He does not say it, but his efforts to teach you the bare minimum of self protection is proving futile, and you know there are plenty of other ways he would prefer to spend a summer evening with you. 

“You are forgetting what I have taught you,” Sukuna says, and the words are spoken against your skin as he draws his lips up your jaw, not at all dismayed by the sweat that trickles down your temples. “You must keep moving if you do not wish to die.” 

The playful taunting of his voice scrapes at your already frustrated nerves, so you jerk harder against him. Your energy is wasted in another failed attempt to escape, and you blow out a frustrated breath when Sukuna presses you tighter into his front. There is an undeniable pressure from him against your lower back, and you knew that the grin he was sporting earlier in the night while he stalked you through the trees was too full of excitement and desire for a simple training exercise. 

“So you have told me,” you huff, and though your muscles are weakening and your energy runs low, there is something enticing about the idea of having your husband in the seclusion of your gardens and under swaths of starry night. You throw your hips back harder under the guise of fighting back. 

Sukuna’s answering laugh is rich, and you are not sure of what he will do next until his teeth are suddenly nipping along the slope of your neck and two of his hands are gathering the fabric of your robes up your thighs. 

“What terrible prey you are.” 

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

Your phone is ringing and it yanks you out of sleep. 

The wheels of your chair skid backwards from how forcefully you sit up, and you just barely manage to catch yourself on the edge of your desk and miss face planting onto the floor. There is an unpleasant soreness in your sternum, and it is an uncomfortable reminder that you shouldn’t fall asleep slumped over your desk. You scrub your fingers against your eyes as you flail for your phone with your free hand, and your voice is groggy when you answer.

In a move you aren’t sure you’re grateful for, Shoko has waited to inform you of the results of the first year’s assignment at the detention center until after Itadori Yuji has come back from the dead. After you hear of the news in a tone that is entirely too nonchalant for the matter at hand, you race across campus to the morgue to check on your newly risen student. The whole time you curse Satoru and whatever business took him away from the school for the day, all the while berating yourself for allowing such misfortune to fall onto a trio of teenagers. Of course, the ever important question stares you in the face:

Who brought Itadori Yuji back to life?

If you’re being honest with yourself, you know exactly who is responsible for saving Itadori from dying an early death, but the idea of admitting to it is just as startling and perplexing as the other somewhat life-altering conundrum brought upon by Ryomen Sukuna. You doubt his motives and question his purposes until you’re in front of a large metal door and nearly a jittery mess. 

Maybe he was feeling benevolent. 

When you push through the door and into the sterile white room, Itadori is perched on a metal examination table in a pair of pants that are a size too short with a large grey blanket tucked around his torso. Shoko sits in front of her computer situated at the wall across from him and is typing away furiously. Beside her, a printer whirs and spits out page after page. Only Itadori turns to look at you, and you have to hold one finger up as you work to catch your breath from the energy expended rushing over here. 

“I am so glad you’re alive,” you finally gasp out. You place your hand over your racing heart and try to take a deep breath. Itadori grins in his usual way and opens his mouth to say something when the screech of Shoko’s chair interrupts him. 

“By all intents and purposes, he shouldn’t be,” she tells the room, and she snatches the stack of papers from the printer before walking over to hand them to you. A quick glance between the haggard set of her face and the sheepish look on Itadori’s doesn’t fare well for the buzzing of nerves in your stomach. You swallow and scan over her report. A few sentences stand out, and the nerves turn into the threatening reappearance of your dinner. 

“Perforating blunt force trauma to the chest.” 

“Heart missing from the internal chest cavity.” 

The words are enough to aggravate the throb in your chest from earlier, and you fight the urge to rub at the spot. When you look back up at Itadori, tears blur his figure and the paper quivers in your grasp. 

“I am so sorry,” you choke out. Shame and devastation make your body hot, and you regret not accompanying the three students. 

Itadori waves his hands in front of him, and his eyes are wide in trepidation. “Ehh, it’s okay! Don’t cry, please. I’m alright!” 

You nod as your shoulders shake because your throat is too tight to get any words out, and you feel Shoko’s hand land comfortingly on your back. A minute or two passes before the quickly approaching panic fades, and you hope the smile you give to the two of them is reassuring and not borderline hysteric. 

“If you can handle it from here, I’ll let you make sure Itadori is settled for the evening. I could use a break.” Shoko’s voice is calm, but when you look at her, the skin under her eyes is bruised purple and you recognize the stiff set of her shoulders. 

“I got it,” you tell her, and with a quick goodbye to you and Itadori, she breezes out of the morgue and leaves the two of you alone. He turns to you expectantly, and you take a couple steps closer so that you stand in front of him. 

“So, uhm,” you begin, and Itadori gives you a small bob of his head in encouragement. “I’m sure you’re ready to relax or whatever, but I, uh, have a couple questions.” 

You look back through a couple pages in the report and try to search for words that describe what happened today. “Shoko told me a little over the phone, but I want to know for sure. Did he…did Sukuna—,” 

Your own stuttered gasp cuts you off when you look back up at Itadori and see that he is no longer who sits in front of you. 

Sukuna is observing you intently. His legs are crossed on the table and he is resting an elbow on his thigh so he can cup his chin in his left hand. One dangerously pointed fingernail plucks rhythmically at his bottom lip, and his eyes do a thorough perusal from your head to your toes. It isn’t leering, but you feel seen through anyway. 

As you study him back, you find that his presence is just as daunting as the first time you saw him last month. Except now, you notice black tattoos that trail over where his neck slopes into his shoulder, as well as two thick bands of them that circle each wrist. If Sukuna gives an imperceptible shake of his arms to jostle the blanket draped over him just a touch more open, you ignore it. 

“Hello,” you say, because the silence has become too much and the weight of Sukuna’s stare is making you squirm. The greeting comes out as ineloquent as you feel, and you grimace at yourself. 

“Hello,” Sukuna replies back. It’s not particularly friendly or inviting, but there’s no malice in it either. 

You let your eyes wander around the morgue because you have no idea what to say to him, so you count the rows of refrigerated, body length capsules on the back wall behind Sukuna. Next is the sink and counters to your right, but you abruptly shift your focus back to him when you spot a pile of bloodied linen and tools sitting in a bucket. Sukuna is still watching you. 

With a deep breath, you raise the report in your hand and use it to gesture at his chest. “I suppose you are the one responsible for bringing Itadori back?” 

“The brat?” he clarifies. When you nod, he makes a low, disgruntled noise in his throat. With a bored expression on his face, Sukuna studies Itadori’s right hand, twisting it to and fro while wiggling his fingers. “I suppose I did, though I had no intention of actually doing so.” 

Sukuna was not, in fact, feeling benevolent. 

“Oh,” you breathe out, and you struggle to keep your tone neutral. “Well, you have my gratitude anyway. Itadori wouldn’t have deserved to die that way.” 

He scoffs and shifts his eyes to the door. “Still hopelessly sympathetic for mere mortals.” 

Sukuna mutters it under his breath, but you hear it nonetheless and bristle at the way it sounds like an insult. You have half a mind to chastise him for it—and for the way he referred to Itadori earlier—but doing so would involve two things: actually reprimanding the King of Curses, which in of itself feels precarious and possibly unwise, and second—acknowledging the implication of what he said instead of ignoring it. 

Not fond of doing either, you stay silent and return to the paper in your hands. In your mind, you debate what to do with the situation at hand. You don’t want to leave Sukuna unsupervised, nor go home for the night without confirming that Itadori is alright. You wonder if he would change back soon or if you would have to ask. Maybe he would get bored or—

Sukuna lifts a hand up towards you. It’s fisted closed at first, but his fingers unravel as they near your neck and the movement makes you freeze. To your shock, he only crooks a single finger around a section of your hair. 

“It looks the same.” 

His eyes aren’t on yours when he says it, and instead they follow where his finger curls deeper into your hair. Your heart thumps heavily, but you don’t respond and simply flip a page in the report you’re no longer paying attention to. Behind you, Shoko’s computer dings with a notification, and water plinks slowly into the steel sink.

“It is a bit longer now, perhaps,” and Sukuna’s voice is wistful, nostalgic. “You used to like to change it when the weather began to warm.” 

A lucky guess.

“When you are caught off guard, you freeze, even if I would always remind you that it makes for bad prey.” He chuckles, and it is bitter and forlorn. You try to recall where you have heard those words before as they echo in your head.

At your sides, your fingers tap and twitch in the empty air, and when the movement catches Sukuna’s attention, he smirks like he just discovered a secret only known by him. 

“And when I continue, here in a minute, you will tap your finger against your nail to give yourself something to do because you are nervous and unsure.” 

The accuracy of his words are disconcerting enough that you jerk your head back, and it yanks your hair from Sukuna’s fingers. You aren’t certain, but you think an errant knuckle ghosts over your cheek before his hand drops down to his lap.

 Similar to the feeling the night after you first saw him, something tingles over your skin and you nearly bat at your own arm in an attempt to swat the sensation away. Hot tears sting your eyes and you chalk it up to the adrenaline of the evening. Or maybe it’s the way Sukuna is looking at you, like it’s painful and delightful all at the same time. 

He leans forward, his nose an inch from your neck, and you stiffen when he takes a deep inhale. “I could find you by your scent alone, no matter the distance.” 

That is what disturbs you, and you flush out of embarrassment at the thought that he has been able to smell you this entire time. When you give him a scandalized look, a genuine grin teases at the corners of his mouth. For a split second, you are transfixed by the sight of it and how it just faintly, barely, almost, feels familiar. 

“The color of your eyes is unmistakable,” he murmurs, and it’s reverent and half a world away. But suddenly, his face hardens, and Sukuna glares at a point over your shoulder. You wait with bated breath.

“They light up for your white-haired lover now in the same way they used to when I would return to you in the evenings.” 

Air leaves your lungs in a shaky exhale, and you finally take a couple steps back to put some space between the two of you. His eyes reluctantly follow, and you clear your throat. 

“Well,” you start, and you fiddle with the paper dangling from your fingertips. “That’s very astute of you.”

The sound Sukuna makes is something between a scoff and guffaw, but he doesn’t say anything else. When a couple seconds go by and it’s clear that he’s waiting for you to speak, you blow out a breath and cock your hip as you brace your hand on it. 

“And I suppose you just, what? Remember those facts from centuries ago?” 

Sukuna shrugs and appears unbothered by your insinuation that he is lying. He leans back on the metal table and rests his weight on his palms behind him. “I am an immortal—of sorts.” 

An undignified snort rips from your mouth and you throw your hand up to cover it. 

“Yeah, well,” you retort, and your words are half muffled by your palm until you let it slide down your chin and to your collarbone to nervously rub at the skin of your neck, “I am not.” 

The carefree expression dies on Sukuna’s face at the same time his shoulders fall and his eyes go distant. You’re not sure what he is thinking, but the way he seems to shut down makes you feel uneasy. He works his mouth and pushes off his hands to slouch forward instead. 

“No,” he says, and that one word is full of sorrow and resignation. “No, you are not.” 

You stare at him with lips parted and an ache in your chest. Nothing comes to mind for you to say to him, not that you are sure you even want to. The idea of resting a comforting hand on his shoulder flits across your thoughts briefly, but you shake it away before it can come to fruition. Sukuna lifts his head to meet your gaze, and you don’t break it this time, not when his eyes are full of longing and pleading for something you can’t understand. 

Remember me, remember me, remember me. 

A knock on the door of the morgue shatters the silence, and when you flick your head towards the sound, Satoru is standing there in the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face. His blindfold dangles around his neck, and you get the sense that he has been standing there for a minute. You turn to him, and from your peripheral, you see Sukuna sit up abruptly. 

“You’re back!” you exclaim to Satoru. Despite the turmoil swirling inside of you, you let the sight of your husband soothe the nerves away and you smile at him softly. 

“I am,” he remarks, but when he returns with a smile of his own, it doesn’t reach his eyes. Finally, he saunters forward with all his usual grace and nonchalance. “I just wanted to check on Yuji before we went home.” 

“Oh,” you say, and you begin to turn back towards the table. “Well, Itadori isn’t currently—,” 

The words trail off when you see that the tattoos have faded and Itadori is blinking lazily at the two of you. Satoru’s hand lands between your shoulder blades, hesitates, then slides up to cup the back of your neck. A light squeeze follows, and Satoru drops a kiss to the top of your head before turning to Itadori. The two engage in light conversation, but their words are muffled in your ears as you try to make sense of the strange feeling of loss that just came over you. 

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

You and Satoru don’t speak as you leave the morgue and venture out into the dark of the night. Errant light posts scattered along the sidewalk give off just enough light for you to see a couple steps ahead as the two of you make your way towards the entrance of the school. You’re hand in hand with Satoru, and his thumb brushes back and forth over the length of yours. He tightens his grasp right before he opens his mouth. 

“What did he want?” 

Satoru’s voice is cautious, and you realize he’s come to a stop when your hand jerks in his grip. When you turn back to him, each of you has an arm out and extended from where you hold on to the other. Satoru searches your face, and you stare at your intertwined hands as you chew the inside of your lip to find the words to explain what had just occurred between you and Sukuna. 

“He came out while I was talking with Itadori about the incident during their assignment,” you start sullenly. Satoru uses his grip on your hand to pull you to him. When you’re sharing space with him again, he reaches up with his free hand to smooth hair away from your face. “He knew some things about me.”

Satoru’s eyebrows jump. “Such as?” 

The pavement below your feet becomes the most interesting thing as you mull over Sukuna’s words, and much to your displeasure, images of the bleak emptiness of his eyes and the defeated slump of his shoulders stick around in your head. You’re not sure what you feel for him. Pity wouldn’t be too far fetched. Sympathy didn’t seem accurate, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t there. 

Maybe that extends to monsters too.  

Satoru taps the side of your cheek gently to regain your attention. 

“What did Sukuna say?” he prods gently, and he dips his head down to seek out your eyes.

You give an exhausted shrug of your shoulders. “Like how I typically change my hair every summer, or that habit I have of digging my nail into my finger when I’m anxious—things I just wouldn’t expect him to know.” 

“Mhm,” Satoru hums, and his expression is pensive before it relaxes. “Well, maybe he’s noticed them in the time Yuji has spent around you. We know he can observe what’s going on from in there.” 

He pauses before he grins and wiggles his fingers next to his face. “He does have all those extra eyes, you know. Kinda creepy, if you ask me.” 

Not for the first time, you're thankful for Satoru’s ability to break the tension of almost any situation, and you can’t help giggling. “You’re one to talk, Six Eyes.”

Satoru makes a face that shows exactly how pleased he is with himself and his cleverness, but as your laughter dies down and nothing fills the air beside the chirping of crickets and faint high road noise, he gathers you into his arms. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks when he releases you a few seconds later. 

“Yeah, I think so. Your explanation is rational.” You kick at a rock on the sidewalk and it bounces into the grass. 

“Anyways, it’s not like it matters,” you mutter. “Even if it’s true, nothing Sukuna says changes anything about the present. It’s just weird to hear or think about, I guess.” 

Satoru lets out a relieved breath and swipes away imaginary sweat from his forehead. “That’s good to know.” 

But then the lightness on his face drains away and left in its place is resolute determination. “I’d destroy the world if he took you away from me.” 

The seriousness in Satoru’s voice stuns you, and for a second, you are reminded of the power he holds, how he is perfectly capable of doing the very thing he describes. But just as quickly as it came, the hardness in Satoru’s eyes bleeds away and a smug grin replaces it. 

“Or at the very least I’d have to fight Sukuna for you.” 

You laugh a little uneasily. “You’d really do that?”

“Well duh. I’d win.” Satoru makes a face that tells you he thinks the answer is plainly obvious. 

“I know you would,” you assure him softly, and he preens. “But I thought you left your jealous-tendencies back in high school, Satoru.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t.” 

“Right,” you draw out. “Give me one example.”

Satoru’s mouth puckers begrudgingly and he taps at his chin with a finger contemplatively before perking up. “That overnight mission you were supposed to take with Nanami last year! There were only two rooms, and they were right next to each other!”

“That doesn’t count, not when you managed to weasel your way into his place without him realizing it.” And after a pause, “I still don’t know how you did that,” you wonder under your breath, but Satoru brushes it off with a wave of his hand.

“Unimportant,” he says, and while you would beg to differ, he’s already on to his next point. “You were Suguru’s friend first before you met me!” 

“Satoru, I literally cannot control which one of you I met first,” you argue, and a little pang of sadness for a long lost friend smothers out the grin on your face. If the way Satoru’s eyes flash with nostalgia, you suspect he feels the same way too. 

“Besides,” you tell him as you spin around and start walking forward again, “if you weren’t so preoccupied looking out for romantic threats that didn’t exist, you would have noticed that the whole time I was looking at you.” 

You throw the last words over your shoulder at him, a flirty smile accompanying them, and Satoru’s entire demeanor melts. He doesn’t let you get far ahead of him before he’s jogging back up to your side and slings an arm over your shoulder to drag you against him. 

“I knew you were obsessed with me!” 

“‘Obsessed’ is quite the gross overstatement.” 

Satoru is scandalized, and he reaches up to pinch the apple of your cheek between his thumb and forefinger. “You were nicer to me before we got married.” 

Your laughter is bright in the night, and you bite your lip. “Are you sure about that?” 

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

It is both irksome and completely baffling to Gojo Satoru that you seemingly want nothing to do with him. 

Sure, the two of you didn’t exactly start off on the right foot with one another, and Satoru could maybe understand why. No one appreciates having their abilities questioned and doubted to their face, no matter how well meaning the following offered advice may be, but Satoru doesn’t think his words are insulting enough to warrant such a reaction. 

Especially not when he can see you taking him in with a bashful smile on your face. You are also prettier than he expected, and he likes to think that is partially responsible for the loosening of his tongue. By the time Satoru’s done talking a minute later, you look thoroughly unimpressed and tip your nose into the air before striding off in a direction you can’t be sure of, yet you don’t stop and ask for clarification. Suguru sighs his name in exasperation before hurrying after you, but Satoru doesn’t think much of it and assumes you’ll warm up to him tomorrow. 

To Satoru’s dismay, you do not, and in his infinite wisdom, he responds in kind. The two of you are not rude to each other, per say, so much as you both simply pretend the other hardly exists. Satoru gives you an unenthusiastic wave when you stumble upon him and Suguru eating lunch under a tree on campus, and you pointedly sit as far away from him as you can when the entire group goes out for the evening. 

Satoru would be lying if he said that the way you integrate so seamlessly with the others and not with him doesn’t ruffle his feathers. You and Suguru already were friends before Satoru even met you. Shoko is just thrilled to have another girl in the bunch, and the two of you immediately get along. You even manage to wiggle your way into Nanami and Haibara’s own little clique with barely any effort on your part. 

By the time you’re here six months, everyone has mostly gotten used to the way you and Satoru tread on thin ice with each other. Satoru still isn’t sure what to think of you—besides the fact his eyes follow you on campus more than he’d like or that he’s become attuned to the specific sound of your laugh—but he realizes you might just be feeling the same way about him.

You say that he’s loquacious, and Satoru thinks you’ve been spending too much time with Nanami based on the use of that word alone, and certainly not because he is acutely aware of every time the two of you leave some place together, chatting and laughing in ways that Satoru has never seen Nanami do before. At best, he assumes you are ambivalent towards him. Occasionally, you’ll laugh at one of his jokes (even if he thinks he has others that are much funnier), and you don’t agree with Utahime when she does her best to insult his character each time the Kyoto school comes to visit.

Other times, you’ve turned to walk the opposite direction when you round a corner and see him heading towards you, and Satoru pretends that doesn’t sting. You grimace behind your hand the first time you’re paired up with him for sparring practice, and Satoru is remorseful when you leave the field a little bruised and stiff.

That is blown out of the water, however, at the next training session when you demand Satoru’s partnership and promptly land him on his ass with an unexpected aspect of your technique. If he wasn’t utterly gobsmacked, as is everyone else around you, then maybe Satoru would realize he is falling in love when you stand over him with a victorious grin on your face and a hand outstretched towards him. When he takes it, there is an unspoken truce cemented between you two, and to everyone’s relief, you and Satoru learn to like one another. 

The rest of the summer continues in the same friendly fashion. You still roll your eyes when his humor doesn’t land like he hopes it would, but you remember his favorite drink from the vending machine now, and Satoru will somewhat begrudgingly share his sweets with you. And when the two of you are paired up for an assignment for the first time, neither of you groan or grumble, and instead it goes rather well according to Satoru. 

The curses give you both a bit more trouble than anticipated, and by the time the two of you are done exorcising them in some abandoned warehouse a city over, you both breathe a little heavily. 

“You alright?” Satoru calls, and he watches from his corner of the warehouse as you wipe grime and sweat from your cheek. The curse at his feet is nothing more than a pile of ash, and the one you defeated doesn’t look much better. 

“Yeah,” you gasp, and you bend down to brace your hand on your knees. “All good.” 

You meet him at the exit of the warehouse after you catch your breath, and Satoru bumps your shoulder playfully when you’re near enough. 

“Looks like you need to work on your stamina.” 

Your answer back is a shove against his chest that actually lands, and Satoru cackles at the scowl on your face as he follows you out the door and onto the curb. 

“My stamina is fine, thank you very much.” 

Satoru would have made an inappropriate comment had you not narrowed your eyes at him over your shoulder. The two of you wait in companionable silence as you send a message to Ijichi to come retrieve you both, and when you slide your phone into your pocket with a sigh and peer down the street, Satoru notices a streak of dirt along the edge of your jaw.

He doesn’t think twice before he’s using the pad of his thumb to swipe it away. You quickly turn your head in his direction, but Satoru doesn’t pull his hand away as his thumb continues brushing along your skin. To his surprise, you don’t jerk back or swat his hand aside. If anything, Satoru swears you lean into his hand just the slightest, but the rumbling of a car engine spurs you apart, and he’s left shoving his hand into his pocket in the hopes it stops the itching to reach for you again. 

The dynamic between the two of you changes after that. Satoru flirts shamelessly and you pretend not to enjoy it. You let him sprawl across your lap during movie nights, and he extends his infinity over you each time you conveniently forget your umbrella when it rains. You call his name in a way that is warm and almost affectionate every time you see him now, and unbeknownst to you, Satoru seeks you out before anything else. And when things begin to go very wrong, you’re the only one left who knows him so well.

Satoru’s best friend has gone and disappeared for a cause he can’t agree with, and that—combined with the events leading up to it—forever changes the boy you know. Yet somehow, you find him in a remote corner of campus a couple days after. Satoru’s eyes are ringed red and he wraps his arms around his knees as he sits on the ground behind an old library. 

He sees you hesitate from a couple feet away, but something on his face is pathetic or desperate enough to lure you closer. Your smile is sad and gentle as you lower yourself down onto your knees next to him. Satoru allows your arm to circle his shoulders, and he doesn’t fight it when you draw him into you. Instead, tucked away against your neck, he sobs.

“Shhh,” you murmur to him, and a couple scant tears trickle down your own cheeks before falling into his hair. Your left hand rubs soft circles into his back, and you let Satoru engulf your right one with his so he can clutch it against his chest. You stay with him like that until the shaking of his shoulders blends into occasional hiccups. He chuckles wetly when you use the edge of your sleeve to soak up the leftover moisture from his eyes, but his lips still taste salty when he presses them to yours. 

And if Satoru kisses you like he wants to keep you? Well, that’s alright with you, because all you want is everything to do with him. 

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

A/N: I am a little sick, and while I don't think this will delay the next chapter, if it's late that's why.

Taglist (open): @kalopsia-flaneur ; @kafanizdakicokiyi

<3

[bestedoesmeow]

what about us?

daniel ricciardo & ex!gf reader

request :Heyyyy, could you maybe do a Daniel Ricciardo x Ex-GF!reader where they run into each other at a vacation(they’re both alone), and as they spend time together, they realise they’re not over each other. It could be a mix of one shot and smau

song to listen while reading: pink - what about us

You see him standing there, his gorgeous smile on his lips, holding his beer. His body moves lazily with the rhythm, his lips syncing with the lyrics, "Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive." He talks to the person next to him, effortlessly beautiful, just as you remember him. Suddenly, his eyes catch yours after years. It's the first time in years; you had avoided watching him race, laugh, or be interviewed to avoid eye contact, even from the screen. To forget him: his smile, his touch, his laughter.

Your blood rushes through your veins, your hands slightly shake with the contact, your cosmopolitan leaves stains on your white dress as he makes his way towards you. His steps drawing closer, your heart beats louder, heavier, faster.

"Enchanté," he says, as if trying to remind you that after years, you're in Paris again. Together, but not like before.

"Enchanté," you manage to say, hiding your shaky hands by placing your drink on the nearest table. His eyes are even brighter, more beautiful than you remember.

"It's been years. What are you doing here?" he asks, a big smile on his lips.

"Here for a holiday with a few friends. What about you?"

"We're on summer break; came here with some of the guys from the grid," he points to three guys dancing and drinking next to the cocktail table.

"You look fantastic," he adds, probably unaware of its effect on you.

"Thank you. Yeah, you too," you stutter, trying to smile and avoid flashbacks of your last night together upon hearing his voice.

8 YEARS AGO

"I know, I understand you have to move there, and I fully support you, but what about us?" you say, tears filling your eyes. His hands cup your cheeks, and he gets closer on the couch. Tears well up in his eyes as he watches you cry, perhaps for the last hour.

"We're going to be okay. We can try long distance, FaceTime every night. You can visit me, and during breaks, I'll come here, huh?"

"Promise you won't let me go? Won't get tired of me, the FaceTimes, the long hours of traveling."

He presses his nose to yours, breathing slowly to hold back tears. "I'd never, ever get tired of you, Y/N. If there's something more important to me than my career in F1, it's you. Nothing in this world can take me away from you," he says, leaving a peck on your lips.

"I promise too. I'll try my best to make this work, what we have."

He left home three days after your conversation, and you decided to break up in the second month of the long distance. He was aggressive, stressed, busy. You decided to give him the break he seemed to want. He didn't say anything, but he cried for hours in the motorhome, had the worst qualifying sessions. Meanwhile, you left your house, moved back in with your family, and changed schools.

It wasn't truly over, of course. No one came into your life during those years, not even in Daniel's case. All you could think of was him: the late-night talks, the way he touched you, the way you loved each other.

He was a beautiful trauma.

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

"How's everything going? Are you done with school?" he asks, while you're lost in memories.

"Oh yes, I'm teaching at an elementary school in Boston now," you say, catching him looking you up and down.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. I always knew you'd be a great teacher. Look at you."

"I'm proud of you too. You look great in the Red Bull suit," you say, mostly confessing. "I knew all of this would bear fruit."

"You've always been so supportive. I can never thank you enough," he says.

"So supportive that I couldn't bear anyone with any less supportiveness. I am- was addicted to you," he panics, swiftly changing the word.

"Is there anyone? Has there been anyone?" you ask, the words coming out unexpectedly.

"No, it was never after you, and I don't think it ever will be after you."

"I missed you, Daniel. I missed you for days, weeks, months, and years. I learned how to cope with it, but I never learned enough to forget you. You'll always be my favorite person," you say, tears welling up in your eyes. Your hands cup his cheek, and your body shivers with the touch, contact after years. His eyes well up, and his lips curl into a painful smile.

"Thank you, baby. Thank you for everything you sacrificed for me. I love you, I love you forever," he says, kissing the palm of your hand.

"Thank you for showing me what love is, Danny. I'm so thankful. Maybe we're meant to be in another universe?" you say, bursting into tears with your last words. His arms pull you into a tight hug, his lips moving on your hair, leaving peck kisses.

"I don't think I'll be leaving you now that I've found you."

[unabashednightmarepizza]

Hiii could you make a dating Talbott Winger headcannons I love him so much and I really think he’d be like the I hate everyone but you trope

A/N: I'm sorry that it took such a long time for me to write but I was battling with stress and life lately, and now that I'm fine, I started to have so many ideas but I need to finish request and write the chapters that had been waiting for ages in my documents lol.

And thank you everyone, who waited patiently!

P.S: I don't remember whne this ask was sent so I'm gonna put this on my "Summer Celebration" post!

Requests are OPEN!

𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑏𝑜𝑡𝑡 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝐼𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑠...

We all know Talbott is a silent boy, he prefers to stay away from trouble unlike a certain person that has his interest, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't have an adventurous side of him.

Yet, I still believe that he likes to have some kind of... control? When doing something? Like, yeah, he takes risks.

Just not extreme risks

Or, if you were to introduce him to some muggle vehicles, I think he would love to ride a bike with you and watch as your laugh would be carried to hus ears as the sight of you all happy and glowing would consume him.

Yeah, our boi definetly has a way with words.

Except the point that he made you swear to never talk about the first time he tried it as you showed how to bike, and he fell hard while being busy admiring you in return.

You, of course, accepted it with a giggle but not without crossing your finger because Bill demanded he had to know everything about your date.

He also swoons whenever you beat someone's ass in dueling. There were many times you rocked people's shits, especially Merula's since she always demanded one only to loose, to the point that no one actually stood a chance against you and refused to train.

Proud boyfriend Talbott and proud mama Bill moment 🥺😭

Like really, there isn't something you would do/make that he wouldn't be proud of and supportive

Crochet? Amazing, could you make a hat or a swan plushie? Draw? Excellent! Maybe you could teach me a few things, dove? You want to deceive the first years by playing an innocent game? Well, it's not like him... But he would be down with it anyways, especially after the ultimate "puppy eyes" weapon.

For some reasons, I see his whole vibe with you as Harry Style's "Golden" song 😭😭🥰🥰

It's literally the song that phrases your relationship!

"I know you were way too bright for me/ I'm hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky..."

" Don't wanna let you know I don't wanna be alone/ But I can feel it take a hold, I can feel it take a hold..."

"I can feel you take control, I can feel you take control/ Of who I am, and all I've ever known lovin' you's the antidote..."

Since he didn't have his parents from a young age, and that they were killed right in front of him, Talbott had difficulties with associating himself with people around him.

That doesn't mean he hated them, or didn't want to talk. He did, he really did... He just didn't know how, and was scared that they would be gone too.

Especially early in your "friendship" that he often denied, but secretly liked the taste of the word on his tongue, he pushed and pushed people away, especially you... until only he was left.

But hey, it was a good thing that you were a persistent little shit because not only you were able to befriend him and show the true colors of life, show him that many people cared about him, you also took his heart and soul for yourself... like, for good.

Yeah, Talbott is definetly one of those rare guys who would stay loyal to his partner until the day he died and then even more.

If there was one thing you never expected from him by how he seemed so reserved, it was the fact that he was clingy when alone. Like, eagle boy would do anything to cuddle, hold hands with you, kiss and hug and do anything you ask for.

His hand holding is much more frequent than other forms of PDA. Talbott isn't very keen on them, since he hates attention, but hand holding under the table disecretly happens a lot.

He sits with you during breakfast and dinner, evennif you were in a different house, and your friends tease you for it affectionately.

He especially hold your hand thightly when he feels overwhelmed, or sad because of remembering his mother... to feel grounded, because he often feels like he lives in auto mode where he doesn't actually know what he is doing and doesn't have control.

That's when you step in.

When that happens, and Talbott usually tries to make it all go away through drowning himself in his studies, you would often look for him in thr library. But since he didn't want you to disturb your own peace just to find him, and he also didn't want to be found in a fragile state, he would go for less predictable areas.

He knew it saddened you whenever he refused to talk about his problems, he was aware and it broke his heart too... But he was scared.

You were the best thing that happened to him, even when he thought and still thinks he wasn't worth being loved, even when he thought he wouldn't find any ounce of happiness... Because why would he? He didn't have anyone left from his family at such a young age, his other relatives didn't care much and he was bad at socialising.

He fought and fought, but for what?

But then you came, stubbornly wanting to be his friend... Alongside the huge friend group you brought, and now he had a lot to loose but also a lot he gained.

He didn't understand why someone like you, the hero of Hogwarts, would find anything in him to activelly seek out to be friends with him...

But whatever it was, he was glad. Glad for your stubborn heart, glad because thanks to you, he found a new family.

You healed his aching heart with your sweet smiles, reassuring words and selflessness. Slowly but surely, you settled deep in his heart and after time, he realized he loved you... Immensely.

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment obviously, but maybe... he always loved you, while watching from afar... While you won Quidditch, solved the mysteries about the Vaults, saved the school one many times... Or how you achieved more than average witch in your age, or how you risked your whole school life just to help him find the necklace of his mother.

Perhaps he realized right then and there that yes, he was in love with you and yes, he was already too deep to get out of that hole that was love.

And he didn't want to, for he was used to darkness when you came with the light of your eyes and heart, and saved him.

He could never be that boy he once was, and he didn't want to. Because now, he had you and a future to hold on to.

You both were the ones who confessed first, under the night sky as you both blushed at the cliche sight but you were content, happy to call this amazing, kind, thoughful and strong boy your lover.

Like I said before, there are a lot of things he wants to do with you: Travel together, have late night dinner dates, go to a beach, have a little cabin at the outskirts of Scotland...

But above all... There is one thing he wants to do with you the most one thing that often has him blushing and unable to sleep.

Grow old with you.

NOW TO THE FUN PART, ENOUGH DEPRESSING

Whenever you try to find him, out of class and studying sessions you both have, he is in the Owlery and all the owl LOVES him! Like really, whenever you two hang out in the school grounds, a flock of them comes and finds him and perches on both of your shoulders happily while picking on your hairs or hiding behind them in a way of playing with you.

He loves jewelries, mostly necklaces and bracelets, so whenever you buy something for yourself, he demands one too.

And he also loves matching with you too, so any necklaces, he's matching with you. It's one of the subtle ways of telling everyone that you/he was taken.

All the teachers and your friends knew you two would be end game, from how in love you both seemed and how Talbott started to smile genuinely after such a long time.

But what sealed it for you both was when he asked you to come to the Owlery, that he had an important thing to say and hive to you.

Imagine your surprise when he looked at you so softly and offered the necklace that had his mother's swan feather, accompanied with the pendants of his initials.

"This necklace used to be the sign of all the things I lost, a reminder of death... But I know my mum would have wanted you to have it, the girl who means so much to me, who I imagine my life to be spent with... I want this to be the sign of our love and my loyalty to you, for you to carry on your neck and hopefully never take it out... If you will have it and me..."

Like I said, he is a one-woman kind of boy and when you start a relationship and things started to get serious and deep, Talbott wouldn't shy away from hinting at marriage and a life together.

Because if this didn't show you the depth of his love, I don't know what would.

Another cute gesture he does with you, especially in like 6th or 7th year, is to wrap his arms around you from behind and put his chin on top of your head after laying a tender kiss there. ( why do boys get so much taller in like a few months when I'm stuck at the same height for the rest of my life 😭)

You two often visit and stay until late in the Owlery. That place had become some kind of a safe space for you both, where you can be with each other in silent, read books or simply feed the owls happily.

OMG HIS FAVOURITE WAY OF SPENDING TIME WITH YOU IS READING ❤️😍

You liked reading books by yourself, but when your boyfriend had a raspy voice and was food at imitations of the characters, you didn't have to do anything except laying back on his chest as you buried yourself in his smell as he read to you, thightenung his hold on your frame.

But just as you loved being read to, he actually likes it as well. He is just bad at showing and telling that. But whenever you see him looking at a book, then at you with a pout, you know what he wants.

And who were you to deny him of that when he looked so cute?

Madam Pince, even though she resented you for pranking her and was close to banning you from the library, was now looking at you and your boyfriend softly because one, you finally weren't there to break the rules but rather trully reading and two, you also helped her clean the library with Talbott too.

But none of you needed to know.

Now that I mentioned her, all the teachers have had bets about your love life. Like when one of you will confess, when you will have a kiss, when you will have a date etc.

And quite creepily, Minerva and Flitwick almost all the time knows when and where and wins quite a few galleons.

Snape couldn't care less, because he hated your guts... Or mayyybee he was slightly interested since you gifted him a cake and offered good mornings every day even though he would snap and he started to not hate you but just dislike.

Sprout was just happy to see her two favourite students together, alongside with Minerva, and offered her blessing with an enchanted flower that would never wilt.

But Dumbledore? Oh, he always knew from the start and didn't bother with such childish act... but he had bets going on with others in the ministry soo~ (Don't get me wrong, I still hate him.)

You know when Hermione said that girls could get in boys' dormitory but they couldn't enter girls'?

Yeah, there were many times you did that, at the beginning for cuddles... And later in your last year, for different things *wink wink*

Ehem, another act he loves doing are ( and I need to say, if a man did that to me, I would simply melt) taking your hand in his and putting it on his chest, where his heart is and kissing your forehead and lingering his lips there for a few seconds more.

Just imagine the feels and how hard your heart would beat I-

FLOWERS! YOU BOTH GIVE EACH OTHER FLOWERS ALL THE TIME!

You giving him flowers actually has a funny story because you thought he wouldn't like them, especially early in your relationship

But you couldn't help but think that daisies would look good on his dark, long hair

So you hastily went to Hogsmeade, came back in a hurry and sent a letter to him through your owl to meet you in the Owlery

It was definetly worth seeing the dark red tint on his skin when tou explained why you wanted to give him them

"I wanted to show you that I care and love you a lot, and flowers are a great way to show it, especially since I enchanted them!.. And by your reaction, I'll do that more in the future!"

And yes, you did so... Even after being married for such a long time, eventually having kid/s and in your 60-70

And he never stopped blushing and returning the gesture just as sweetly, always adding a little blessing and thanks to Merlin for bringing you into his life

This headcanons are already taking so long so I'll stop here before it gets out of control lol

And I'll go and continue crying at the corner because I don't have a Talbott in my life 🥺

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Sarah and Simon’s wedding. Any hints on how it went for them?

...Well! 🫦 *draws breath*

First, they frolic around Florence all cute and happy before the ceremony. Simon takes her to galleries -> somehow the idea of this giant soldier listening to his enthusiastic, sparkly-eyed wife-to-be giving him a monologue about a painting like Birth of Venus does things to me. He def. gets a hard-on from that, and Sarah gets all flustered when she notices. ("We're in a gallery, for god's sake" or "I should've known you can't behave yourself" while her eyes are just wide and shining from love)

As for the wedding: nothing too fancy, nothing too luxurious or overly elegant. Instead, crazy romantic – nothing is official and there will be no legal documents on any marriage taking place, but Simon would do his all to make the day memorable for the both of them. He loves to pamper and spoil Sarah, even if she gets shy about it (she loves it actually). So good food and a beautiful dress are a must, and the venue has to be something Sarah would love – something historical, from the romantic period, perhaps. Some old villa with lemon trees or magnolias, a wild garden that is overwhelming to the senses, nothing too pruned or symmetrical. They spend their wedding night there, too, sleep late in the morning and have a hedonistic 2-hour brunch in the garden.

I don't know if even Soap would be present because we're talking about a secret elopement here. Simon would have a hard time asking John to be his best man, and Sarah has yet to see him too many times, so it might be just the two of them + someone suitable to conduct the ceremony. After all, the marriage is mainly a powerful symbolic gesture from Simon that he is dedicated to Sarah and wants to grow old with her (I see them planting those apple trees in Simon's "hideout" later that summer: one for her and one for him).

But what would be even more monumental than the actual wedding is the honeymoon that follows.

Simon takes weeks, almost a month off his work to explore Italy and especially the seaside together. There is an overdose of art, culture, good food and wine. Sarah tries to teach Simon to appreciate a good Amarone or Valpolicella and he's just like I'd rather not but gives in like he always does (*sigh* "Let's try it then, dove"). There's lots of swimming and hikes in the woodlands and just all kinds of fun under the sun, and all around them, the nature is blooming. 

Sometimes they are too tired to even make love because they've been too busy going around yet another bend or a corner to see if there is a great view or a better restaurant or a hidden beach empty of people. But he brings her breakfast in bed, and it usually ends in slow, passionate sex before they venture out again. Or then there's the occasional quickie in the shower just before dinner. Her cheeks are still flushed when they rush to their reservation and the waiter brings the menus to the table (Simon only looks annoyingly content with himself). 

If one thing is sure, it's this: Simon gets actual dimples on his cheeks from that honeymoon, and Sarah teases him about it for the rest of their lives. 

Every time the weather turns cold and rainy in London, they remember their Italian summer and the gardens filled with foreign scents and their wedding night which was a little too hot to get some sleep, not to talk of making love (of course they still did and were all sweaty and spent afterward, poor things), they remember their walks on the beaches filled with beautiful sea shells and how they should go back there someday, but Simon says it would never be the same... so they decide they will explore a new country and a new place every year. A few weeks, almost a month off from work, no matter what, so they can go and have some adventures and a slice of peace and live their lives to the full. 💞

[sl-newsie]

A Clean Slate (Balkan x OC)

I also have a request. Balkan x OC. Idc what happens in it, I just need him!

Another sunny day. Too bad I have to spend it working indoors.

“God I hate this place,” Rita groans from across the shop. “I can’t wait to get outta here!”

“Calm down, mi querida!” Valentina assures her. “You may not like it here, but some of us had to work hard to get here!” 

My coworker goes on complaining while I zone out and scrub the counter. Rita’s always complaining because of her position in the Jet gang. Apparently the Jets are a big deal, but I’ve never personally met them because I just moved from Brooklyn. My father’s in the police force and he transferred to the West Side, which meant I had to wipe a clean slate and start over with making friends. Turns out the goils of the West Side ain’t so friendly and instead of being social I’ve decided on keeping a steady job during summer vacation. Doc’s is the perfect place because Valentina needs all the help she can get.

I hear the door bangs open and a man wearing jeans and a white tank top steps in.

“Ey, Rita! Ya done woirk’n yet? We’s got business in ‘Hattan to deal with!” 

“Alright, alright.” Rita follows the brute out, strangely looking more bored than before.

Time slips by, only providing us with a few customers, and before I know it it’s already 5:30.

“Time to clock out, Lottie.” Valentina walks out from the back room holding the keys. “Don’t worry about the clean up. Tony’s stopping by to mop. Buenas noches!”

“Good night, Valentina.” I grab my purse and head into the cool summer night. The sun hasn’t set yet and a gorgeous collage of orange and pink spreads across the sky. I clutch my purse close and begin the walk home-

“Hey! Runaway coin!”

The clinking sound of metal draws my attention to a silver-colored coin rolling down the sidewalk. It nearly reaches the sewer until I step on it with my blue heel.

“Much obliged, doll!” A man jogs up from behind and kneels down to look for his coin. “Um, where’d it go?”

“Oh, sorry.” I lift up my foot to reveal the gleaming coin. “Here it is.”

The man keeps his face down as he retrieves his possession. What I don’t expect is for him to lean down to kiss my foot.

“Excuse me?” I jerk away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Now the man stands up and I can see him. He’s wearing an olive-green shirt with the sleeves rolled up under a blue vest, along with dark jeans and sneakers. At first I think he’s too bizarre to trust, however the thankful expression on his face makes me reconsider.

“Sorry, doll. ‘S just that this coin means everything to me. Guess I overreacted.” He holds out a hand and we both shake, causing my heart to respond by racing much too fast than I’d like it to.

“You ain’t from here, are ya? I’d remember you if you were.”

I shyly shake my head and fidget with my purse. “No, I just moved from Brooklyn.”

“Brooklyn, eh? Well then let me be gentlemanly enough to officially welcome you to the West Side!” He gives me a quick salut. “Name’s Balkan, from the Jets.”

My breath catches and I step away. “Jets? That’s the gang everyone talks about. I heard some people were almost killed in a fight last month.”

Balkan pockets his coin and holds up a steady hand, eyeing me with a calm demeanor.

“Yeah, there were a few close calls. But that was before the peace agreement. You got nothing to worry about.”

I want to believe him, but my father’s teachings are spinning through my head.

“My father’s a police officer. If you do anything to me, he will find you.”

There’s a noticeable spark in Balkan’s eyes, something that imitates fear. But it only lasts a split-second. He steps a few feet back and holds his hands out for me to see.

“I’m unarmed, I swear. I don’t want you to feel unsafe. What’s your name?”

He knows his law procedures. This is how dad says criminals are supposed to stand when they’re arrested. Has he ever been arrested? Calm down, Lottie. He asked a decent question. 

“I’m Lottie.” My voice shakes a little. “Nice to meet you, Balkan.”

Balkan nods respectfully. “That’s a pretty name. If you want you can call me Marcus. That’s my real name, Marcus Jackson.”

I’ll have dad run a background check on him later.

“Since you’re new, would you want me to show you around?”

Keep calm, relax. He’s just being friendly.

“Um, maybe some other time? During the day?”

It’s strange how Balkan isn’t getting annoyed by my paranoid behavior. He’s been nothing but respectful, which is something I don’t expect from a gang member.

“I get that. Is your home nearby? I wanna make sure you get there safely.”

I inch further away towards the direction of home. “I’d rather not have you know where I live, if you don’t mind. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Taking a deep breath, I swiftly walk past the now-stuttering Jet.

“What’s it gonna take for you to trust me?”

I keep walking. “In Brooklyn I learned to trust nobody. People are disappointing, they will take what they want and spread lies when they’re through with you.”

Now Balkan is walking to keep up. “I’m sorry that happened, but not everyone is like that. It doesn’t have to be too serious. I’ll start.” He clears his throat. “Hello, my name is Marcus. I come from a broken family because my own father left when I was 5. I met the Jet leaders Tony and Riff a few years ago, and since then I've become one-a the Jets’ best fighters. I know that sounds whacky to you, but to me the Jets are my family.”

His sad background sounds like lots of the cases dad talks about at home. He says delinquents are unpredictable. But this is the first time I’ve heard the other side of the story.

I stop walking and look at Marcus with a different perspective. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that. We both have conflicted pasts, but that shouldn’t define the future. Would you, um, still be willing to walk me home?”

Dad’s going to kill me.

Marcus grins in delight and offers an arm. More gentleman than delinquent. “I’d luv to, Lottie.”

I take his arm and we resume walking. Another trait that surprises me is his smell. It’s mint. Like a fresh peppermint pattie.

“Why is your coin important to you?” Just keeping up the conversation.

“It was my old man’s. He gave it to me before he left, said a million-dollar fortune could be made out of a single coin.” Marcus shakes his head and laughs. “Some fortune now, huh?”

His unfaltering optimism is something to admire. “What is it you plan to do for a living after school?”

“Dunno, maybe something with mechanics. I’m pretty good with building things. Have you met Jackie yet?”

The name brings no familiarity. “No?”

“She works with me in the shop. Jackie’s Velma’s little sister.”

I grit my teeth. “I do know Velma. Her and Grazie are… interesting.”

Marcus chuckles. “Yeah, they can be a handful. Jackie ain't like that, though. She’s nice.”

I give him a questioning look. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re new here and I can tell you’s looking for friends. Am I right?”

Ok this guy’s growing on me. First he offers to take me home, now he’s taken interest in helping me fit in.

“Y-Yeah. I’m not too good at finding friends. Thank you.”

“No problem.” We turn the block and start walking down my street. “So what’s your plans for after school?”

I don’t wanna lie, but I feel that my planned career will make him feel embarrassed.

“Um, I’m looking into being a professor of anatomy.”

Marcus’ head swings to look at me with wild eyes. Here it comes. Go ahead, make fun of the weird, nerdy outcast newcomer-

“That’s amazing!”

What?

I stare at him. “You’re not upset?”

Balkan repeatedly shakes his head, still smiling. “Why would I be? That’s a top-notch job! You must be one smart cookie, Lottie!”

I slowly realize that my brain isn’t going to get me mocked. “Thank you! Normally people hear that and think it’s crazy for a woman to be teaching at a university.” I bite my lip. “That’s- that’s actually part of the rumors I had back in Brooklyn. The girls used to say I was less feminine for wanting to take up a man’s job.”

Balkan stops walking and puts a hand on my shoulder. Earlier my instincts would’ve been to kick his crotch and run, but now I’m not afraid anymore.

“Those bitches don’t know what they’re saying. They’s jealous because you’s smarter than them, Lottie. Being smart don’t mean you’s less feminine. In fact, lots-a guys admire a goil with brains.” A smile grows on his face. “I know ‘cause I’m one-a them.”

Oh God. Steady, Lottie. But it’s no use. The walls I’ve built to keep people out are cracking. How has this man been able to make me feel special when he literally just met me?

“Who are you, Marcus Jackson?” I whisper. “You show up chasing a coin, a complete stranger. And now you treat me like an actual person.” My body reacts by giving him a soft hug, one that Marcus accepts gently.

“You’s a real nice goil, Lottie. Anyone should treat you like one.” I hear him sigh. “I’m probably gonna get killed for this.”  Before I can ask Marcus pulls away and looks down at me with soft eyes. “Lottie, would you maybe wanna go out with me sometime? It don’t have to be much, just- Maybe as friends?”

It’s a good thing Marcus is still holding me because if he wasn’t I’d be crumbling to the floor.

“You mean that? An actual date?” I can’t hide my excitement. “No one’s ever asked before. Are you sure?”

The Jet boy’s eyes widen. “Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes!”

Through my sudden happiness I feel tears beginning to form. “I’d luv to, Marcus. But first-” I give a small laugh. “You should probably meet my parents first.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Absolutely!”

“Good! Because… This is me.” I point to the door of the small house we’re standing in front of.

“Nice place,” the Jet compliments.

“Thank you. Would you like to come in? Dad won’t be home for another hour but I can ask if you can stay for dinner.”

Marcus looks as if I’d just offered him a million dollars. “Um, yeah! I mean, if it’s alright with your folks- Am I dressed well enough?”

I can’t help but laugh at his adorable statement. “You’re fine, Marcus.” Taking his hand, I lead him to the front door and lead him deeper into my life.

“Mother! I’m home! I brought some company.”

“Hello, dear!” Mother comes bustling from the kitchen. When she sees Balkan she freezes and her eyes narrow. “Lottie, who is this man?” she asks in a stern voice.

I give Marcus’ hand a squeeze. “Mother, this is Marcus. He walked me home from work.”

The Jet sets himself in a respectful stance. “Good evening, ma’am. I just wanted to make sure your daughter got home safe. I meant no disrespect.”

“Could he stay for dinner?” I ask hopefully.

Mother stews over my words with a conflicted expression. “Could I talk with you for a moment? Your friend can wait outside.”

That’s not exactly a no. Balkan doesn’t seem to mind because he gives a nod and walks back out without question. Once he’s gone, mother rushes over to put her hands on my shoulders.

“Sweetie, I am so happy you are trying to socialize. But is that boy the kind of crowd you think is right to be around?”

My confidence doesn’t slip. “I didn’t trust him either, but Marcus is a good man even if he is part of the Jets. You know how hard I’ve had it trying to find friends, mom. Well, Marcus and I are both starting with a clean slate. He’s not like the criminals dad deals with.”

Mother lets out a deep sigh. “Your father may not be happy at first.”

“I know. But please at least let him stay for dinner? Give him a chance for you to warm up to him.”

I think my goose is cooked. My parents have always been strict, and someone like Balkan isn’t exactly the prime example of dinner company-

“Very well, he can stay.” Mother’s worried look changes to a smile. “We’ve raised you well enough to have good judgment. I’m sure this young man is quite catching enough for you to bring him home. You’re growing up so fast, Lottie!” She gives me one last squeeze. “Alright, let him in.”

Feeling full of giddy hope I rush back to the door and open it to find an anxious-looking Balkan.

“My mother passed her blessing for you to join us! Come right in.”

Marcus looks like I just hung the moon. “O-Ok!”

I show him to the dining room and we both help set the table. Mother keeps a watchful eye as she brings out dishes of chicken and potatoes, but relaxes after she starts to see Marcus isn’t a threat.

“We usually eat before dad gets home,” I explain as we sit down. “Sometimes he gets overbooked with paperwork and doesn’t want us waiting too long.” I lean in and whisper: “You’ve met my mom, now you just need to survive my dad.”

Balkan’s face freezes in a look of new-found terror, but mother just laughs.

“I’ll talk him into it,” she assures. “Your father may be the head of the house, but the mother is the neck. And she can turn the head any way she wants.”

Marcus and I grab hands under the table, and for once in my life I’m glad we moved from Brooklyn. This new start is refreshing for both me and Marcus, one that I hope will lead to something special.

(Sneaked in a My Big Fat Greek Wedding reference!)

[justarandomlambblog]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 [END]

The second shackle comes off

Get adopted and feel loved, mangey cat

We're gonna pretend I didn't give Heket the wrong shaped crown aight? aught 👍

(explanation beneath the cut bc I didn't want dialogue)

The harvest comes. Narinder can't help but notice how sad the wheat fields are, the wheat growing small and patchy at best. He remembers how Heket would make the wheat fields flourish just by walking between the stalks. The memory of the fields she would create early in their godhood makes him feel somber, realizing now what the cost of being a godless land is; their entire lives are left to the limitations of the earth, without any god to help them thrive. These people are making the best of what they have, and they're happy even though it's not a lot.

Narinder notices some are harvesting wheat while others till the earth once it's been harvested, and the old dog explains that once this wheat is harvested they plant "winter wheat", which can be harvested in the spring before they plant their summer wheat. They till and fertilize the earth before planting the winter wheat, of course. Narinder tries his hand at harvesting the wheat, and the old dog begins to teach him how to use the sickle. Time passes.

Over the late summer, autumn and winter, Narinder learns how to live this provincial, modest life. He tills the fields with the other villagers, he sees feral beasts for the first time in over a thousand years, learns to collect eggs from said feral beasts, learns how and decides he doesn't like to collect milk (the godless lands have more feral beasts than the Lands of the Old Faith ever did), has finally regained enough strength to draw water from the village well without help, learns to bake bread (with great amounts of help so as to not waste the precious resources with the inevitable first fifty failures), and attends his first lantern festival. All in all, this marks his approach to his second year here, most of his first year spent indoors recovering. (His fur is also getting long, something something new me new hair something (totally not an excuse for me to draw hair))

At his first lantern festival, Narinder decides to partake in what is usually a coming of age tradition for the village; he gets an ear piercing, choosing a symbol that will essentially act as his written name. He chooses a symbol that is a crescent moon inside of a sun, thinking of Aym and Baal when he sees it. (Note: He is not scared/nervous about the ear piercing, he isn't bothered by a literal pinprick of pain, but the fact that someone he barely knows is this close with a needle is what worries him)

Later on, days or even weeks later, the old dog gives him a chain with their individual symbols on it, with a loose chain hanging from the other side of Narinder's sun-and-moon charm. Narinder questions this and the old dog explains the symbolism behind the charms; two charms with a chain extending between them indicates marriage/partnership, and two charms with another charm on the chain between them indicates that couple's child/children. The one Narinder has is the latter, with the second parent's charm missing, indicating that the old dog views Narinder as his own son, now. It takes a moment, but Narinder realizes all at once that this is the old dog's way of extending an invitation to become family- and it's been so long since Narinder had a family... (And yes, the old dog is fully aware that this cat is thousands of years old (Narinder was very vocal about this in the first weeks before he eventually stopped bringing it up), but that won't stop him from deciding he's gonna be this abandoned, fallen god's new family)

Narinder goes to sleep, and finds that despite everything- despite how simple and quaint and, frankly, not easy life in this little godless village is, he's happy. He has none of the luxuries that he had as a Bishop; no worship, no reverence, no servants, no silks or satins or veils or anything of the sort. Here he's just... one of the people. Just another face in the crowd. And he's happy. Happier than he's been in a long time. Unfortunately for Narinder, he is failing to realize that this godless village is a little less godless every day he's there. But that's not necessarily a bad thing.

The village wakes up to their fields flourishing like they never have before. The wheat is taller than the tallest villager, and no one is really sure what to do about this, but there is excitement throughout the village. Narinder thinks of Heket again, reminded once more how she would make the fields come alive. The shackle on his left hand opens up before dispersing into light, and he remembers the way she looked at him in the days leading up to his imprisonment, the quiet and somber warnings she would give him. He takes a moment to grieve before turning his attention back to the present, back to the family he's creating now.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sorry if you've already mentioned but what (re?)ignited your love of comics/x-men/cherik? curious because there are so many different adaptations of them

i think im gonna speak for a few (or a lot of) people when i say that TL;DR the wolverine x deadpool movie that came out this summer is what pulled me back into comics and i COULD leave it there but i will go into excruciating and unnecessary detail instead because i love an origin story and i love oversharing.

under the cut tho because im nice sometimes (there's also wxdp doodles in here. if you want to see that)

ironically (and probably commonly), growing up i was more of an avengers kid. Kinda. Loosely <- binge watched the cartoons and movies and read copious amounts of comics and fics and i am hoarding fanart in my old dresser as we speak ok 'loosely' is a modest lie.

embarrassingly i remember getting into discus cause of captain america LMAO so yeah needless to say i was a Humble Fan- me joining my school's comic class/club didnt help either (shoutout to my teach from that she was the realest one out there for. A Multitude of reasons). she definitely is was inspires me to even draw still and make comics and i often think bout the tips i learned from her class tbh she was great

back to the movies t and comics tho, i got into em because my brother would offer to take me and that's how we'd hang out (i rarely saw movies in theaters and i even more rarely went anywhere as a teenager. still kinda like that today tbh ooops) and yk. it just snowballed after that.

my brother and i have always liked comics- he just more than me for a while (though he still very much loves comics and As We Know From My Posts we still talk about them whenever i see him To An Exhausting Degree)

durin then i was really into stony and i have a few surviving doodles i made but those are between me and god. and anyone who asks tbh LOL

'snap can you make this related to x-men again this is long' ok so fast forward to This Summer again I Still Don't Really See Movies but my brother offered to take me and this was the first time i'd actually seen an x-men movie in full

as a kid i only remember seeing the 'perfection' scene between erik and raven in first class while i was channel surfing. pretty sure i changed the channel after seeing mystique naked cause i was scared my parents would get mad at me if they caught me watching it LOL

BUT MOVING ON As A Kid i think it's also natural you'll sometimes watch 92 if it's on And I Did though evidently it didn't stick too hard (i do remember really liking beast and gambit though.... still do really): my knowledge of x-men was. INCREDIBLY sparse. like diabolically so so i didnt have too much expectations (aside from the fact i vaguely liked deadpool beforehand).

tbh i dont know why my bro never took me to see any of the x-men movies. it's not like he doesn't Also like x-men (90% sure nightcrawler's his favorite but my brother will be caught dead saying he has absolute favorites like that)- he owns a bitch load of deadpool comics/omnibus sets too (of which ive read over the years and reread this year) but Shrug moving on

Much Like Most Of The Internet i fell down the rabbit hole that way. i have some doodles i made a couple days after seeing WxDP that i now have an excuse to throw at all of you Look And Perceive

and so. As I Do. i got curious and told myself i'd binge watch all the x-men movies the week before i went back to school And Then I Did ft. My Brother Sometimes and then i said i'd binge watch all of '92 and And I Did That ft. My Brother Sometimes But Less So and now we're here. currently watching Evolution...

once i got to school i realized i lived near a comic shop and started getting into the comics that way (the first ones i got since going down this rabbit hole was Magneto Was Right!, The Resurrection of Magneto, and The Trial of Magneto. if you were curious !!!!! clearly i didnt care too much about context i just needed to see My Guy jelvejlkvj i have no regrets and Evidently ive read more since)

i'm pretty sure what dragged me into cherik specifically was the fact i saw a clip of The Famous ending to 92 where erik's aghast at the notion jean even has to question his love for charles. i think that was what officially had me refocus my lens on them: not a single poolverine thought after that LOL (all the cherik posting i saw on twitter definitely helped too but that was the nail in the coffin for any other interests i had: i was locked into cherik and x-men in general now)

that clip specifically, i was surprised at the fact they- frequently even- have the x-men franchise say erik loves charles and vice versa so bluntly. even if it's not meant to be romantic, i fear im just a fan of how casually the word's thrown around with them two and i got tender bout it all. Then Yk. i just live for the drama. the hilarity even. the sincerity .... they make me sick if i think of them too long so im gonna end it here

before i go tho ironically enough, the first x-men issue i owned was This one (story a this is that while stuck in some wacko dimension charles accidentally gets himself trapped in logan's mind while utilizing his astral projection. if you were curious). pretty sure i got it for free with another comic set i got years ago since our old comic shop loved to do that, but it's poetic aint it. maybe ill doodle something referencing it..

i should probably look into finishing this arc someday im Dummy curious to even know how it started and how it ends.....

[fancyfeathers]

omg that student ask was so creepy but fun!! i'd like to add that darling would try to run away as last ditch effort. too bad he already predicted your moves </3 i dont think she can ever look at a mathematics question normally ever again lol

Just imagine that she runs away the night before she is supposed to leave the university and go back to London to prepare for her wedding to William, packing up a small suitcase and buying a ticket to the west end of the country and take a boat off to Ireland to live stay with family there who she has written to and they believed her story about what William attempted to do to her. Her roommate would cover for her but in the end none of it matters because when she arrives at the train station William’s brothers, Albert and Louis were waiting in the carriage and snagged her before she had the chance to leave.

The carriage ride was mostly silent besides a comment or two from Albert about how lovely the wedding will be, but there is no response from William’s darling. Then they don’t return to the university but rather the Moriarty Estate in Durham, since she has her things packed already it made sense for her to stay in the guest bedroom and they could all leave together in the morning, yes?

But it is all to embarrassing when she walks into the drawing room and sees William reading in the drawing room as if he was waiting for them too arrive, and in fact he was because he just smiles and tells her that Louis had already made her bed and prepared the guest bedroom for her earlier that afternoon.

The next day, they return to London as planned and even though she stays at her family home while the wedding is being planned, William or one of his brothers were almost always by her side, William taking her to florists or bakers to discuss the flowers or cake, that she was indifferent to because she did not want to get married in the first place. Then Albert or Louis would take her to modiste for her wedding dress since William could not be allowed to be to see her like that before the wedding.

The wedding is a burl, a situation she barely remembers, well wishes, and smiles towards her and William. Then the next thing she remembers is sitting in the drawing room of the Moriarty Estate next to William, her mind reeling from the shock of everything because her mind was on autopilot since at that night when she was caught at the train station and all hope of freedom slipped through her fingers.

She becomes essentially a house wife, after her marriage to William, she is allowed to do what she wishes as long as she asks William first and normally he will allow her to do what she asks but she never asks due to her fear, shock, and anger at him. He’ll be working in his study and she will be sitting in a near by chair, a book open on her lap but she is gazing out the window. William just glances up briefly as he grades and looks back at his paper.

“Dear?”

“Hm?”

“You were a literature major at Durham in I remember correctly, yes?”

“…I was… why do you ask?”

“I am scheduled to teach summer classes at a university here in London about thirty minutes carriage ride from here. I took the liberty to look into the courses they have available and you would be available to finish your degree.”

William just watched as his darling’s eyes went wide as she just stared out the window, there was no response to William but he could see the light in her eyes grow back ever so slightly…

But that light would be extinguished again a few weeks later, his darling would be finishing work for one of her classes ate at night and William told her that he had meeting he needed to attend and he would be home by the time she was asleep. It was near one or two in the morning and she was still awake as she was finishing up and she she was walking downstairs to clean up the cup of tea she made for herself while she worked, then she hears the doors open and close followed by footsteps and she assumes it’s William. She is walking back to the staircase as she sees William, it’s dark besides the lamp she had and she can see the reflection of a thick liquid on his clothing, blood. She is just wide eyed and horrified before she dropped her lantern, she could not even scream because how scared she was.

“William?”

“…You were supposed to be asleep.”

[therk900]

☀️January TC Challenge (Day 1-31)☀️

1. Do you think your TC will teach you next year? M is teaching me this year and i'm so exited for it! I also still have A this year!

2. If you had to move to another city, how would you tell your TC? Would you confess to them?  Maybe in person so i could see how they reacted and i would maybe confess them!

3. Have you ever written a letter to your TC? If no, would you ever do that and what would be in it? If yes, what did you write?  Yes. I made one for S mid 2022. I wrote how I was so thankful for him.

4. Are you attracted to your TC in a more emotional or sexual way? Or both? Both if i'm being completely honest

5. How did you meet your TC? Do you remember your first conversation?  B and S both taught me when they first joined, and I sadly don’t remember our first conversation since we had so many and it was so long ago. I think with A, it was just mainly about getting to know each other, and i got to know him because my old maths teacher used to teach him. I met A around the same time as S! I met M at the start of last year since he was my teacher for a small bit of a subject i took! Our first conversation was him praising me and my answers

6. If it were to happen, how do you imagine the perfect kiss going down with your TC? If by chance you have kissed your TC, how did it happen? For S and M, I imagine it being the last day of school and they give me a goodbye kiss! With B, maybe a reunion kiss or something like that. With A, maybe a quick goodbye kiss!

7. Have you ever had an argument with your TC?  No. I would have nothing to argue about with them

8. Do you see your TC outside of school?  I wish I did. Hopefully i get to see B maybe, especially because he left

9. Do you have a memory you are particularly fond of with your TC? Any cute stories? When B was still at my school, B and I would have chats about random things and ask about my hobby of drawing! He also used to check up on me during school assemblies! Once when i was staying back after school, i was on a call with my dad, and i saw S walking towards me. I finished up the call with my dad so fast (my dad and i were done anyway) and talked with S until he got to his car. I helped him remove some things off his car before saying goodbye! This happened recently before it was the school holidays, but when i was in M's class, i was working on my own since i didn't really know anybody in that class. M saw this and decided to work with me! He was really sweet throughout it and technically gave me all the answers With A, we were working on something that my teacher gave me, and it had a question about a sports team that he followed. The question involved his team losing, so A decided to cross out his team's name and put a different team's name instead. A and i were laughing about it for a while.

10. If your TC is still married, would you (still) want a relationship with them? it all depends, really in my opinion

11. Do you have a photo with your TC? If yes, how did you get it?  Yes. I have one with B. I got it because the photo is in the school yearbook.

12. Do you think anyone you haven't told about your TC knows you're crushing on them? Most likely. It is obvious 

13. When is your last class with your TC? Will you see them over summer break?  My last class with S was in 2021 and with B, it was term 3 last year. I won’t see them over the holidays sadly. with M, it was at the end of last year. I will defiantly see A over the holidays!

14. Have you ever mentioned the tcc/teacher crushes to your TC? NO WAY. I would move schools after that. Even to the other side of the world!

15. Do you think one of your classmates has a crush on your TC? I don’t know tbh

16. Do you get jealous when you see your TC with other students? Not really

17. If you and your TC had a long distance relationship, do you think it would work out? Yes...

18. What's your TC's degree? Do you like what they studied? S: Science and a language B: English  M: Science i like those subjects

19. Have you ever cried about your TC? If so, why? No

20. Have you ever cried in front of your TC? If yes, why? I have cried in front of B once, I have forgotten the reason why. S saw me just after I finished crying and it was embarrassing. 

21. Do you know about your TC'S family? If yes, what do you know? I know of M’s daughter. (He introduced me to her once which was cute)

22. Would you consider them a dog person or a cat person? I would consider them all cat people. But maybe M would be a dog person

23. How would you tell your TC about your feelings? (If you had to) Letter most likely so it can be anonymous 

24. Do you know how your TC dresses outside of work? In casual shit, I guess

25. What are they like when they are upset? I’ve never seen any of them upset. When B was getting annoyed, he would just be like “come on guys” and everyone would just shut up

26. Where do you sit in relation to their desk/spot/lecturing position? With B, i used to sit at the front, near where he was sitting. With S and M, usually at the back, so I can admire them. Since A and I have private sessions, I technically sit right next to him

27. Do they know another language?  S knows Italian. i think A may know a tiny bit of greek

28. What do you have in common with your TC? B and I both had pets at one point and A and i went to the same School (he left a couple years before i joined)

29. Have you texted/messaged your TC? I’ve messaged A multiple times! I’ve only emailed the others

30. What is the most frequent TC daydream you play in your head? Me cuddling with them

31. If you could only say one more sentence to your TC before graduation, what would it be?  "I will miss you a fuck ton"

[aethscend]

conseq. not coincidence [3] : chances you take

time drags itself by in the suffocating room, your mind settling into a haze some while ago. the professor’s voice echoes steadily throughout, clicks and pen scratches on notes accompanying him.

last of summers warmth seizing as the seasons shift between, the short break coming and going all too quickly with everything back in routine once more.

“To conclude, we will be holding a summative. this time around, in pairs."

okay, yeah everything.

groans weren't even tried to be suppressed.

"I get it, I get it-" his irk undeniable from tone alone, "networking is inevitable so we will be getting it out of the way now, not to mention the stakes I have going with our side branches." he waves his hand around. "We will be drawing lots at the front, remember to keep the slip secured and don't try to switch it around, I'll know."

just the season's luck. you watch as person from person begrudgingly go down, trying to recognise how the system would work. each slip has a corresponding pattern, and you find your partner based on it.. aand the teach is subtly writing the picks down, even greater. how does he keep track like that

watching as the people gradually dwindle away from the area, you stretch before going for it yourself. it wasn't the biggest class, maybe you could get someone good.

風

huh.

your mind completely blanks as you try to recall if you saw it before you went up. there was no way you could be without someone, it was even students.

a glimpse of something comes up as it clicks, right, zheng had a similar colour, normally sat 2 desks beside and was one of the first up. you aren't quite sure about him but a chance is a chance! you had seen him just before you stood too. and--

he, was definitely not still sat there. what

this was one of the rooms where the doors were on strictly one side of the room, the other side having top windows. you were between where the desk, halfway back to your station, and directly across from the closest door that he should've had to pass by to get out was.

the fuck.

it took all you could to not scream right then and there, how were you even supposed to- he could not have disappeared like that.

dejected and back in your seat, material still scattered infront as you let it come over you. you've gotta be kidding. seconds couldn't drag by any slower as everyone else had their chances, maybe your eyes could've deceived you and someone else, a saviour, could've gotten your match later on. nope, not even another blue.

the professor should at least have his contact listed, you reason and sigh, still dejected beyond

a gentle tap on your chair, whipping around in a fleeting hope way quicker than you probably should've when both you and the mysterious hand had to stabilise to keep it from toppling over. it's squashed and taken over by something else entirely as tame gold eyes bore into yours instead.

“Want to.. band together?”

and it stays like that. neither you nor the stranger, blue hair you note, moves. it was like both of your breaths were taken away, stolen and hoarded elsewhere as he subtly swallows; before the illusion breaks.

“Eh? you two.. unless you want to start paying extra tuition I’m looking forward to sitting back here.” teach grumbles, and that was all it took for you to break away, mind in a haste as was your body.

what was that. were you staring, of course you were. you were almost filled with embarrassment if it could catch up in time. even the one behind you’s words haven’t been caught on just yet.

bursting and almost tripping out of the door came all too quickly given it took you to that point to comprehend. breath caught in your throat again as you forced it out this time, he was right beside you just talk it out.

a warm breeze could've reflected you perfectly then as two steps out the door,

“S-so uh,” not supposed to happen why why why

you were matching eyes with him just like before, stumbling of words tried to be disregarded as you merely let your eyes waver and close briefly for that slight relief.

“hey-“

when you opened them he was gone.

..

— were you cursed?!

.

mlist || prev. > next

an/ i really tried with second person!

whispers:

out of sight out of mind, xiao wants to believe himself after that. what was even the point. his face flushed from the sprint to catch his breath, yeah right. if he could disappear for real now would not be a bad time. ducking himself even further away from the initial building, what he would do

he wants to forget all about it for as long as he has to, impulses be damned as the forsaken stick is still between his tensed fingers. the other hand rakes through his hair to try to release his worries.

光

[msweebyness]

Class of Heroes AU: Friendship Fluff HC’s

These are just some cute Headcanons I came up with for the kids in my AU! Enjoy, and as always, credit to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27!

*Nathaniel, Ondine, Mylene, Zoé, Cosette and Adrien all love to sing together. Hearing all six of them in harmony has brought multiple people to tears just from how purely angelic it is.

*Both classes have a pact about not eating fish due to how much it upsets Ondine. (She cried for hours when she first caught sight of the seafood selections in the cafeteria. Apparently she knew one of the lobsters…)

*Kim and Denise often have ‘lifting contests’ that tend to get a BIT crazy. There was one instance where they each lifted their entire class on a set of the rising bleachers used for choir concerts. That one ended in matching detentions.

*Hair accessories are one of Adrien’s favorite things in the world. He has at least one that each of his friends has made for him, and he wears them all, sometimes multiple at once.

*On an especially hot day during summer (this is an all year school, with holidays to go home.), after some coaxing, Marc froze over the swimming pool and taught everyone how to ice skate! (It went better for some than others…)

*Nathaniel has framed drawings and pictures of all his friends, so if things don’t work out with his true love, he’ll remember them when he wakes up.

*The students who DON’T have crappy parents have established ‘Bring Your Mom/Dad/Parent to School’ Days so the ones whose parents are garbage fires or non-existent can receive hugs from those that aren’t.

*Juleka and Ivan have a special spot in one of the high towers where either or both of them can go to hide out when being labeled by those outside of the class as the school ‘freaks’ and the bullying that comes with that gets to them. It helps them to talk with someone who understands, and they often share music with each other to help calm down.

*Max was wary of Kim when he first met his roommate, thinking he would be the type of guy who bullied him, but quickly warmed up to the demigod due to how friendly he was. Kim took an immediate liking to the young inventor and runs off anyone who tries to mess with his ‘little buddy’. Max also tutors Kim in several subjects.

*Reshma gives people flowers for any occasion she can think of, it’s one of the chief ways she shows affection to friends and family. She’s a master of the messages behind them too, and at any time each of her friends will likely have at least two vases full of her flowers in their room.

*Alya teaches a cooking class for anyone who’s interested on the weekends. Everyone from both classes has come at least twice, and they all came the day she was teaching how to make her famous gumbo.

*Mylene and Zoe are great friends due to their shared love of animals. They also find it soothing to tidy up the school common areas together, chatting and singing while they work.

*Nino is actually very fond of giving makeovers! Even without his wand, he is a MASTER of hair, makeup and clothes coordination, always making sure his friends look on point for any school event!

*Jean loves to put on productions and musical numbers for all his friends. He always finds a part for anyone who wants one and makes it a fun experience for all involved, both to watch and participate. (He does a special number for all his friends on their birthdays, with original lyrics and choreography. He’s an emperor, he’s ALLOWED to be extra!)

*When Kagami goes home on some weekends, at least one of her friends will go with her because there’s a high chance she’ll be tasked with looking after her brothers. And believe me when I say this is a multiple person job!

[remidyal]

Blood Snippet - Vampire Adaine PoV

This was requested by @tangerineblasttheintern, who asked for an Adaine PoV from Blood while she was with the vampires who bought her off her parents before her rescue. Happy birthday!

Adaine woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, completely lightless, a soreness over her neck and shoulders and really her entire body. She squinted around, able to dimly see despite the lack of light. After a couple of minutes, she slid off the bed she'd been on top of, the ice-cold silk sheets rubbing against her skin. She landed on her feet quietly, glancing around. Black curtains were nailed tightly over the windows, and a dresser sat near the door.

She couldn't remember how she got here. The last thing she remembered, she'd been in the drawing room at home and… There had been guests. Creepy ones.

It wasn't a good sign that she had no idea where she was, after that, she was pretty certain as she creeped as silently as she could towards the door. Wherever she was, it would be best to go to the police, or try to figure SOMETHING out. Not to stay here, certainly.

Given that it was the middle of the summer, this place was far too cold. Adaine rubbed her hands together as she reached the door, moving to slowly turn the knob. Which was locked, from the other side. Because of course it was. She sighed to herself, and then and only then did she notice that she hadn't yet taken a breath since she'd woken up, her eyes going wide and hands over her mouth. Now that she thought about it, she did breath in and out, but she'd been up for like five minutes without.

The door opened, the human man from earlier standing on the other side, candlelight filling the hallway behind him, his voice nearly as formal and stiff as Father's usually was. "Ah. You've risen at last, child."

"What the hell is going on? I'm going home, let me out of here." She demanded, clenching her fists. In spite of the time that seemed to have passed, it evidently hadn't been very restful - she could still feel the drain of the ray of sickness that he had shrugged off earlier. She could manage maybe one more, if she saw an opportunity to run.

"You are home, child. And to leave now would be folly; dawn approaches. Perhaps I should explain? My companions and I have recently lost some… dear and powerful friends. Alas, they will not be returning, and so we sought to start the process of replacing them. Beginning with you, though I'm starting to think perhaps we should have held out for your sister after all." He frowned down at her.

Probably because at the mention of that she had flung the second ray of sickness; it had been equally as effective as the first.

Trying to pretend that hadn't just happened, she ducked past him, heading out and down some stairs, looking for the front door.

"Where are you going, child? Are you not listening to me? Have you not been raised to respect and obey your elders? We chose a high elf child for our new wizard because they are frequently already tought these lessons, but we can teach it again if you force us."

"Oh, fuck off!" She said, turning around and extending two middle fingers out.

"No. A demonstration, then. Sit down at the kitchen table and make no further noise until sunset." He said, gazing upon her.

And, no matter how she tried to direct her body or fight it off, she stepped through hallways she did not know, finding her way flawlessly into a kitchen with no appliances but with a number of cages with animals inside, all of them cringing to the back of their cages as she passed. She tugged a chair out, sat, and tried to make herself do anything else other than wait.

The other three in the house went in and out of the room through the day, one of them seeming to check on her and tugging at her eyelids, and yet still she could do nothing, could not move, could not resist in the slightest.

Finally, at what she could somehow tell was sunset even though she could not see any sunlight at any point, she felt her body relax and was at last able to tap her feet onto the ground, even as the three entered the kitchen, the man at the lead. He started opening one of the cages, rattling it and then coming out with what looked like a stray cat, half-mad with starvation.

"…I trust that you will behave, now. Let us show you how to feed."

The stay did not improve from there.

[ocean-blueeyes]

Day 2: What's the earliest thing you can remember about your TC?

When I was in year 7, I remember him often walking in and out of my English class to talk to my English teacher. But my first proper interaction with him was when our teacher wasn't in so he watched our class from the hallway until a teacher came. I was at the back of the class, by the door, and he saw me reading and asked what I was reading. I was reading The Hate U Give and this was back when the movie had just come out so he asked if I had watched the film. I said no but he told me it was a really good film and recommended I should watch it. This happened years ago, we didn't even know each other's names and I didn't have a crush on him.

Day 3: Do you like your TC's subject? Do you think you're good at it?

He teaches English and English has always been my favourite subject. I do believe I am quite good at his subject. I've always gotten As (and one B) since he's taught me and two times he used my work as an example.

Day 4: How do you feel about your age gap?

There's a 15/16 year age gap between us and I know it's not good. If there was a chance between us, which I highly doubt, I think eventually I wouldn't enjoy being with a guy so much older than me a couple of years down the line.

Day 5: Have you ever said anything to your TC that showed you favoured them? Have they said anything like that to you?

My school does these termly things were students are allowed to send notes of appreciation to their teachers. I sent him note twice, but left them anonymous. However, I have a very distinct handwriting so he probably knew it was me. Before that, he sent me a letter home. He had chosen me as the English's department "Star of the term".

Day 6: Have you ever noticed any small habits they have?

Yes, he always bends his knees when talking to most students. Probably because he's quite tall so he's trying to get on our level, but I think it's quite cute.

Another habit he has is whenever he has a spare moment at the start of the lesson, he likes to put these little drawings on the whiteboard that relate to the lesson, even though he's no good.

Day 7: What gift would you like to give them?

I would love to find out some books he loves and maybe get him some special editions of them. He always does his marking in a green fountain pen so maybe I'd get him a set of fountain pens in all colours.

Day 8: Does your TC ever talk about what it was like when they were a student?

Occasionally. Everyone knows that he went to this really famous private school in the UK. He tells us about some of the strict rules and what his classmates were like.

Day 9: Does your TC have a significant other? If so what do you know about them and how do you feel about them?

He has a fiancée and literally no-one was expecting this so when he casually announced this, the whole class was shocked. My friends and I were doing some stalking and we thought we found his fiancée, but findings from other students say we're wrong. I don't know the woman so I can't form an opinion. All I know is that she's super lucky 😭

Day 10: What is the longest time you've gone without seeing them?

The Summer holidays - 6 weeks. I coped surprisingly well.

Day 11: What do other people usually think of them?

It's an objective truth in our school that he's one of the most attractive teachers in our school. However, a lot of people don't like his teaching methods and he doesn't get a long with a lot of the students in the younger years, so they can find him quite "jarring".

Day 12: Do you often make excuses to speak to them? What kind of excuses do you use?

No, I'm too shy. Maybe once in a while, I'll aks for something I could easily have handled myself or I'll get to class a little early to make general small talk. I do however make plenty of excuses to see him. Maybe taking a longer route to a certain class or hanging out in a specific place during break. My art classroom is close to his classroom, so I always leave my sketchbook in my art class and collect it at the end of the day in hopes of seeing him again.

Day 13: Other than the subject they teach, what are they really passionate about?

From what I can tell, he speaks French. He goes to France for holiday often. He follows a lot of French accounts on his socials, studied it at A-level and will often greet us in French. Whenever trying to teach us the etymology of words, he'll often draw from French words with similar meanings. That's ironic however because everyone in our class studies spanish, but I do speak a little bit of Frnech so I'm often the only one to understand what he's on about.

Day 14: What is a skill you really wished your TC had?

GOOD HANDWRITING.

The onky good thing about his terrible handwriting is that he's very self-aware so he'll come to you to read out his comments and explain.

Day 15: Which MBTI personality type do you think they have? (If you don't know MBTI, which Howarts house do you think they'd be placed in?)

I don't know the ins and outs of MBTI, but I think he'd be an introvert as appose to an extrovert. I think he would be a hufflepuff.

Day 16:

[butch-muppet]

white heron

a prose poem about my grandparents’ house being destroyed in one of the recent florida hurricanes

the hurricane destroyed the house. it was unsalvageable, you said, at least by you two, at your age and with your money. so you’re selling it as-is and letting whoever is insane enough to tackle it do so.

mom emailed me the zillow listing for the house. i didn’t realize the damage was that bad, she said.

it was jarring to see the house i had spent so much time in completely gutted. the kitchen completely empty: all the cabinets ripped out, the only thing remaining being the butcher block island, covered in tools and spray bottles of cleaner, clearly ineffectual. the rotting waterlogged walls exposed, drywall peeled off, exposing the beams between.

there’s a hole in the wall between the kitchen and laundry room, where the cupboards had been. i still can see you getting out your kashi breakfast cereal out of there, from a reused plastic container that had probably once held mixed nuts. and, when i look through to the laundry room, i can see you teaching me how to use your washing machine, since it was so much newer and higher-tech than the one in my basement at home that was older than me, a publix bag filled with salty and sandy clothes hung from my wrist.

the carpet in my bedroom ripped out, bare concrete subfloor exposed. i searched for shreds of evidence of the time i got sick from eating too many chocolate eclairs at my birthday party and threw up all over the floor - something you complained about as you cleaned it up at two am, i having been too young for you to let me clean it myself, something that left an orange-twinged stain on the white carpet - any sign of my having been there. but the might of the hurricane had scrubbed it clean, or it had blended in with her dregs that had stayed behind.

that was the bedroom where i discovered the show that i became obsessed with in middle school, the one where i saw the lead actress and realized for the first time that i was into women. the room where i learned how to draw from copying stills from teen titans. the room where i discovered asmr for the first time and could actually, for the first time in my life, fall asleep in under an hour. the room where i would call my mom back home every night to trade stories of our days; this included when my poor old dog died violently, and my mom was the only one at home to comfort him while he lay dying, and she told me everything on the phone, too shocked to even cry, our voices completely flat.

there’s the stone in the backyard that you put the cauldron on. i remember seeing you guys use it for some wiccan full moon rite once, dressed in strange robes and witch’s hats, putting various herbs into the fire burning within. mostly, though, i thought of when we roasted marshmallows with my cousins. it was still deep into summer, and, that close to the equator, the sun still hadn’t gone all the way down even though it was coming up on nine o’clock at night.

it’s been a week or two since i saw the listing, and i still haven’t stopped thinking about that listing. it just occurred to me, all that time afterward, that the listing didn’t even show the guest bathroom, where you had caught me picking away at the textured stucco walls and made me repaint them. that was a tangible sign of my presence there, one that was simply glossed over, deemed to be an unimportant room for the listing, and they could peek in there when they toured the house.

i knew that, eventually, all signs of my having existed will fade completely. i just didn’t expect it to start so soon.

[burningarsenic]

Super nostalgic lately so here's a ramble about growing up in Ukraine and the start of the war. It's very long but if someone is interested enough to read it, it's a big weight off my shoulders hasdhah

I didn't live in one of the occupied territories, but my grandma is from there. I remember spending summers over at her small apartment filled with those old soviet rugs and light switches that were placed way too high for me to reach. I remember the old TV that was in her living room that i used to watch nonstop because there was barely anything else to do. The couch was uncomfortable and creaky, but it was a fun time nonetheless. I remember that whenever she baked she would set the dough out overnight and it tasted so good i kept stealing it.

My father worked in russia for a while. I remember going to saint petersburg for the summer and mingling with the kids on the playground. Ukrainians have an accent when speaking russian, even if we grew up in russian-speaking territories. Their parents would always look at me weird or make comments about me. I remember one couple asking me where i was from and i was afraid to answer "Ukraine" because even before the war i knew what they thought about us. Not saying where i was from is still one of my biggest regrets

Most of my life has been threatened by war, ever since Euromaidan in 2013 when i was about 8. My family was supporting the protesters as best we could, not living in Kyiv. I remember when the bloodshed started and my parents ranting about the store owners who wouldn't let the protesters in. The war started not long ago and my dad was drafted. He was in a communications division, being an outstanding programmer. I remember me and my mom going to visit him sometimes, hearing distant gunshots but being there nonetheless. My grandma had to evacuate and live with us. At school we had a new classmate from the attacked territories. His life was ruined by the war. He never recovered, in all the years i knew him. I remember seeing the PSAs on TV about bombs disguised as money and toys. Most of it was fearmongering, that i understand now, but to my child self it was a real threat and i would scan the streets as i walked for any suspicious items

The worst part, ironically, were a lot of the Ukrainians themselves. It's a weird feeling, being so proud of your country for standing up, but at the same time so ashamed of the people who still believed the war is nothing but a fabrication. The world didn't believe us either. I still have the childhood drawings of me beating russia in the war. My dad almost got into a fight with a man at a restaurant who insisted the war didn't exist and russia would come and save us. I wish my mom didn't hold him back, because with the amount of rage i felt i was about to punch the man myself

My childhood was filled with anti-russian slogans and protests. I know it's not the experience of every Ukrainian, but it was mine. I remember my mom teaching me to check everything in the store for it's manufacturing place. We wouldn't buy any russian products to avoid supporting the aggressor even marginally. Of course, not all of my childhood was related to the war, but a staggering amount of it was. Or at least, it's most of what i remember

On February 24, 2022 i wasn't sleeping since early morning. I used to wake up at 3am a lot before the hustle of the day starts. It was a period of a huge depressive episode for me, and those hours of early morning peace were the only thing keeping me sane. The story of the first bombs falling is funny to me. I thought someone was either taking out the trash really loudly or setting off petards. It was common to hear delinquents set those off. Then my friend from school messaged me, asking me if i was okay. For weeks before that we would joke about the war starting and daring pussyn to do so. I asked what was going on and she just told me "The war started". I didn't believe her, asking if it was a joke. It wasn't. Honestly these messages are still funny to me

All things considered, it's funny how calm we were. Our chat is filled with threats and boastfulness, daring pussyn to come try and how all of this would be over in a week

It wasn't. My parents woke up in a panic, telling me to pack my bags because we were going to Lviv. The next few days were painful. The traffic was stretching out for kilometers as everyone tried to flee west. It took us two days to get to Lviv. We had to sleep over at the house of a friend of a friend's parents. Air raid sirens would ring out every so often. The cities would enter blackout every night to avoid being spotted from above. Military men filled the streets and regular passport checks were mandated all over. Just the day before i was going to school, joking with my friends and my biggest problem were the upcoming exams.

At one point i needed to go to the toilet, so we stopped in the middle of nowhere. I was afraid the field nearby had mines in it, my dad had to go check to prove to me there's nothing there

When we arrived in Lviv, we stayed over at another friend's barely renovated apartment. I remember the sirens, the messages on the phone informing citizens to keep the blinds closed and to go to bunkers whenever a siren would ring out. Most people disregarded the warnings. You can't keep running back and forth forever. I still had an experience with a basement, though. It was full of grandmas who were chatting amongst themselves. One of them had a dog, i remember petting it until the siren was over.

Even as we headed for the Polish border, i remember thinking i would come back. That it would all be over in a few days and i would be back home, in my own bed, in my own room with colorful walls and the constant mess i kept in it. The bus across the border took us 8 hours. A cramped, uncomfortable space with too many people where i had to stand in a weird position to even fit.

Even as the kind Polish families took us in, i believed it would all be over soon. It wasn't. I had to find a new school. I had to get used to living in a new city. And it's funny, because ultimately my life has gotten better than it ever was. I have medication, i have a supportive group of friends, i have a school i adore. Silver linings, even as i wake up every day knowing that my father is actively helping the army, putting himself in danger while i sit here, safe and sound

I try to do everything to help, and my story is probably the happiest possible outcome out of all of this. I feel guilty a lot of the time. For the people in Kharkiv, who have to see the carnage firsthand. Who cannot live peacefully in their own homes, if their homes are even standing at all

I guess the ending of this ramble is very anticlimactic because i don't know what to say ahdhsa. Thanks for reading, i just wanted to get all this off my chest

Koniec i bomba a kto czytał ten trąba