#its like writing a kindergarten class into a scene

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

I love writing fics where all the guys are present but the PROBLEM is I always end up micro dosing on Darry ie WHAT are u DOING! WHERE is SODA! stop DOING THAT! two pay ATTENTION! stop TALKING! come HERE n focus on the IMPORTANT STUFF! Pony ENOUGH with the COMMENTARY! n no one has checked in the stove in 45 minutes n dinner is burnt

[maybe-boys-do-love]

The Only Friends Conspiracy Corner

Welcome to my Only Friends conspiracy theory corner, where I lose my mind on the regular and explain why I believe Only Friends is a veiled commentary on the Thai BL entertainment industry and its relationship to Thailand's soft power economic model, especially Thailand's gay (aka pink money) tourism. As The Heart Killers gets relatively explicit about issues of structural political and economic power, now seems as good a time as ever to talk about Jojo’s last show that seemed to me to put so much of its political work in the subtext. This is just the starter pack. Hit me up with more thoughts anytime!

The Only Friends Hostel business. We have business majors in this show, a rarity in Thai BL, and for their class project they're opening a hostel. Each member of the friend group has a business role to play--Ray provides the real estate, Mew takes on leadership of finances and accounting, Cheum provides PR, and Boston's tasked with creative direction--but the value of the individuals, their roles in the business, and their willingness to collaborate with one another is the tension that drives the series. The characterizations, dialogue, and events in the series ought to be viewed in light of this. Mew, for example, partners off with Top, who encroaches on the friends' trivia group to answer for them a question about Thailand's first hotel, The Oriental, which two Americans established for sailors in Bangkok shortly after the opening of the Kingdom of Siam to international trade in 1855 and later two Dutch business partners reestablished after a fire. A single answer links Top to the influx of Western capitalism in the form of a hotel in Thailand! To count up the economic references in Only Friends would take a massive spreadsheet.

Artistic Passions. Each boy in the Y.O.L.O. bar friend group is associated with one artistic medium. Boston with photography and visual arts more broadly, Ray with music, and Mew with books (lol there's a scene in the last episode in which the translation has Force use the word force in a sentence immediately followed by Book as Mew mentioning his "books"). These are the components of the television and film medium: visuals, sound, and writing. Their romantic entanglements are also colored by their preferred medium and the narrative styles associated with them. Boston has his sensual dark room developments *wink wink,* Ray hooks up with a musician to visit record stores and concerts like a romantic movie couple, Mew makes his ideal seme court him in bookstores and dates straight out of a BL romcom novel. Even Cheum’s girlfriend, April, makes indie movies that go over our token lesbian’s head.

Atom, Cheum, and Mew’s BL Fantasies. It’s not surprising Cheum’s not about those art house flicks. Her, her brother, and Mew all espouse some BL tropes with harmful consequences. The most blatant is Atom’s stated belief that he ‘turned gay’ because of Boston, which he’s corrected on, but Atom, Nick, and Mew all commit to the BL (and broader romance) trope of equating first affections with true love. And Cheum sorts the gay men of her life into simplified categories of red flags or green flags, predators or cinnamon buns. Not all BLs are so simplistic with their trope usage and characterizations, but Only Friends highlights damaging tendencies that occur in the genre and among its fans.

The Pairings. Speaking of fans, one of the key strategies for creating fan interest are the pairings. While not unique to the BL industry entirely—Hollywood’s been pairing actors for publicity and dollars from pretty early on—BL pairs have a pretty distinct flavor, and Only Friends’ casting takes advantage of that. For our pair associated with the most fluffy BL narratives, we have ForceBook, a CP only ever paired together who have known one another since kindergarten. The maturer second love romance goes to FirstKhao, who both worked in other pairings before landing in their current contractual partner relationship. The situationship to end all situationships goes to two actors who, at the time, were not in a CP, something that Jojo has specifically mentioned as relevant to his interests when casting.

The Boeing of it all. Named after a fucking airplane manufacturer, with multiple references to his dreams of traveling internationally (concerts with Sand), flight (he's working to be a airline attendant), and flightiness (both his flightiness toward his bf’s and his encouragement of others to fly away from their partners). In a show explicitly about the hospitality industry? In a genre dependent on international viewers??? In one name, we get such a fountain of economic insight!

Begin Again. In the finale episode, Ray tells Sand he always wanted to wander around listening to music like they did in Begin Again. In fact, Mew and Top’s silent disco moment plays homage to the same sequence. Begin Again, however, is not a romance, despite what the marketing and weak reviews (from critics who expected a swooning repeat of indie gem Once from its director) implied. Instead, Begin Again uses romantic expectations as a trojan horse for an insider portrait of the music industry as the streaming industry changed its operating models. The leads are Mark Ruffalo who plays a has-been alcoholic producer (an important reference to even better understand Ray’s role in the hostel business) and Kiera Knightly, playing a singer-songwriter betrayed by her rising star boyfriend (acted by Adam Levine from Maroon 5). Spoiler alert: If you imagine something more between Knightly and Ruffalo’s characters than the deep relationship creatives can form making art together, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Ruffalo’s character goes back to his ex-wife (a bad omen for SandRay stans since the characters spend the time preceding their romantic walk in the last episode arguing about whether they still have feelings for their exes). Knightly’s chanteuse gets her former boyfriend to apologize and sing her song without pop theatrics on stage but she chooses not to join him and stick to her own independent path. Importantly, the film by the end respects both the popular and auteur artistic sensibilities, reserving more ire for the business models. No one character or method is completely demonized or sanctified. I can’t help but recognize a similar spirit in the portrayal of the three gay romance narratives in Only Friends—Boston’s queer tragedy, Ray’s tear-jerking gay romantic drama, or Mew’s BL comedy. The show acknowledges the formative role of those storytelling modes in the BL industry and even touches on some economic realities of choosing one mode over another. Some exemplary dialogue from the Begin Again: 

“I just think that an A&R [a record label’s artists and repertoire representative] man telling an artist how they should dress or come across is total bullshit. People don’t want that. They want authenticity”

“Authenticity! Give me the name of one artist that you think passes your authenticity test…I’m not saying you can’t be a real bona fide motherfucker in this business but you’ve got to do whatever it takes and get people in to see your shows where THE MUSIC can start to do its real work.”

Personal Hygiene Lessons. In the last two episodes, we witness Ray’s community service teaching children about hygiene. “Once upon a time…” he begins, which immediately alerts me to television writers depicting the act of storytelling. It’s a story attempting to encourage daily toothbrushing to protect from plaque, but Sand steps in and scares them with the threat of a bug crawling into their body if they don’t brush their teeth—suspiciously more similar to issues of sexual health than teeth brushing. The next clinic presentation is about washing out your nose. Either Thailand’s got some hygiene practices I don’t know about, or Jojo’s writing team snuck in a sneaky reference to douching. Watching, I was reminded that Jojo and his good friend and fellow director Aof Noppharnach (Bad Buddy, ATOTS, so many other huge GMMTV series!) began their careers writing and directing a series directly about sexual health for GayOK Bangkok, produced by an HIV testing organization. After the first presentation, Sand explains, “I’m approachable to all ages and genders,” a prime marketing demographic if I’ve ever heard one! Just like Sand, Aof, who is now the senior director of content production at GMMTV, has made inroads for himself and others into a massive market by developing a writing, directing, and producing strategy for integrating queer content (here’s my post about his recurring motifs around HIV treatment) within family-friendly BL shows, often with a romantic fairytale-like quality hearkening back to Ray’s “Once upon a time…” 

The Politician. The parents included in the series have distinguished economic and political circumstances they're associated with. Bear with me on the political-economy history lessons here. Boston, most prominently, has a father running for political office, and we meet him for the first time while Boston's wearing a 1998 t-shirt, the year the Thai Rak Thai (Thais Love Thais) party was founded by Thaksin Shinawatra, telecom billionaire and Thailand's first prime minister to lead a democratically elected government through a full-term in office beginning in 2001. He led key initiatives to promote tourism, make healthcare accessible, and, controversially, crackdown on drugs. Essentially, he provided the vision for the government that kick-started Thailand's move to its current project of soft-power. In fact, his youngest daughter, Paetongtarn Shinawatra, (who describes herself as a "socially liberal capitalist") is the current prime minister partly responsible for overseeing the equal marriage bill into law. Thaksin was ousted by a military coup in 2006 following his family's decision to sell its shares in major Thai telecom group to a Singaporean company and, faced with corruption charges in 2008, lived in exile (until September 2023, less than a month after Only Friends started airing). Ousted for not playing his part in supporting a Thai business? Boston, is that you? There is also a comment in the first episode about the massage parlor Boston's father built his financial success off of, and there's a conversation to be had there about Thailand's Thaksin-led shift away from and crackdown on its sex tourism industry. (The Department for Communicable Disease Control shirt on Style's shirt in episode 3 of The Heart Killers is a government organization in Thailand, not Alabama as the shirt says, which among other things monitors direct sex workers for STDs.) How might a focus on constant financial and moral improvement harm those who fail sanctions against promiscuity? What I find so artful about Boston's potential linkage to Thaksin is how he's constructed as Thaksin's parallel--in his journey toward exile and the over-consumption that led him there--and his antithesis. Boston's the victim, at least in his emotional well-being, of a neoliberal legacy. Thaksin's policies, similar to those of Rudy Giuliani and his predecessors in NYC, promoted family-friendly tourism and industry growth by supporting the corporate partnerships and broken window policing to price out and criminalize those unconventional populations who had taken refuge or even just found themselves in these locales after being marginalized elsewhere. In the same vein, the privileging of monogamous pairing in both BL narratives and BL fan-service expectations serve important goals encouraging breadths of people to accept and embrace gay love socially and politically—Thailand’s upcoming marriage rights bill, more expansive than most western countries, certainly has the BL industry’s influence to thank. Without further input, however, they neglect queer experiences beyond the realm of the first love or marriage plot. They neglect greater issues of equity, compassion, and freedom due to each individual human being (both actors and the general population), which the LGBT population, among others, has historically had an intimate experience with being denied or limited. 

Nick’s Digital Underworld. Nick’s our little tech wunderkind in OnlyFriends. His character fixes phones, hooks up cameras and recording equipment, makes digital campaign posters, you name it! And I personally love that he’s both a skeevy pathetic tech wizard and radiantly beautiful. His cute-factor almost lets us forget about his voyeuristic tendencies. He’s just a content enjoyer, and Boston loves creating content—he just doesn’t want himself recorded…So why doesn’t Nick just get off to some porn instead? Only Friends didn’t name itself so closely to the amateur adult content website for no reason! In fact, we got an OnlyFans reference in The Heart Killers episode 4. Imma have to thank this post for noticing an OnlyFans sign in the background of Addicted Heroin Th and pointing out that it’s illegal in Thailand, cuz I had never considered anything about the country’s pornography laws or internet censorship. I’ll try to restrain myself from blabbering too much about the history I found here and here, but the important part: Thaksin’s once again our guy kicking it off. The Thaksin government censorship focused heavily on antipornography and the 2006 military coup brought in a more Orwellian political flavor to the proceedings, both of which have basically proliferated with continuing regime changes. In 2020, mainly because of increased censorship of adult websites (which is a current global conservative trend—I’m looking at you Project 2025—so don’t hate on Thailand too much), Thailand dropped to the third-lowest tier of internet freedom, according to the company Comparitech (which focuses on cybersecurity and online privacy), only above North Korea, China, and Iran. Both content creators and consumers can have some harsh punishments under the laws. With that in mind, it’s hard to imagine Jojo’s team giving us Boston’s pornographic art and Nick’s digital pornographic consumption as mere character dressing. The fact that they are the two excluded from the friend group at the end, excluded from the local business, from acceptance! Meanwhile, having censored the “deviant” contingent out of the equation, romance is alive and well at the OnlyFans—I mean, Only Friends hostel. As one kind of gay content is uplifted, another is suppressed and banished. No, Boston and the pornography industry he seems to signify are not perfect, but neither are his friends, nor the entertainments and political-economies with which they’re equated. 

Without too much moralizing, these are the sorts of observations and hypocrisies Only Friends highlights. In my reading, at least, it depicts these media and economic trends through its characters, allowing them to play out and contend with one another as they have in reality. Sometimes the allegorical tensions or pairing of genres and capital occurs in the dynamics between characters. Other times, as I pointed out with Boston and his Thaskin connection, the tension exists within a single character. These strategies allow the show to engage with political issues while under the government’s censorship laws, but this is also just what great literary political writing looks like! It speaks to its time, but it will stand much longer as simply a character-driven story about the contentions that arise between money, sex, love, and friendship. I cannot wait for Girl Rules to give us Jojo’s GL perspective on related issues and for Only Friends Dream On to explore this territory in the context of an actual BL production! Let the chaotic theorizing ensue!

[twildflower]

Just read a fic with “I wanted to do this” this sentence in it and i want to kms so bad expand to read a semi-long stupidly funny story. Theres poorly written sex in this for explaining reasons

Before this starts i have to hightlight the fact that my mother tongue is not english nor did we have english as first language to learn at the place i used to live, i just had english classes aside from kindergarten when i was around 1-ish(??) so i had better English compared to my classmates, and that *;i did not go to elementary school and went to something called primary school that had 6 years before going to middle school which had another 6 years before i can go to college.*; TLDR i moved around the numbers of the years into more understandable years for english readers. I dont know how good elementary kids write here but back at where i lived they would trip over and die on a pebble because most kids cant even write 100 words without using 1+ hour and 835284 grammar mistakes and wrong words and such. At least until senior years in elementary. My old ‘friend’ introduced me to wattpad, i didnt know it existed until she told me. Okay this explanation is too long.

When i was in elementary i used to write fics on wattpad for like. 2-3 years and bc i went back to look at them after a year/every now and then (when i still had the app) i tried editing everything to make the old cringe ass fics to look better, but it only made me remember how much cringe i wrote and it wasn’t even that much better (no shit dude how much was i going to improve in a 2 year period. In elementary might i fucking add.) . Now i have certain sentences i see and i cringe so hard because it reminds me of what i wrote before and its such a hidden core memory i didnt think of it until i read a fic that had “i wanted to do this” in it and i internally died that second i saw it actually. Its not even the fic it’s literally just this single sentence that i wrote in my very old fic that made me cringe the fuck out. If you read to here might as well spill the tea and ball bc HEY did you know? I read fucking smut in elementary! Woooaaa!!! Unrestricted internet access!!!! Cheers to that fr!!! That fucked me in the ass bc it made me write a sex scene that was just

(Im going to fucking cry i dont want to write this out again but this only exists very vividly in my memory and this chapter in my story thats published (maybe I deleted the whole story I honestly don’t remember I’ll check later) is deleted bc I realized its so cringe some time later i don’t remember when. So literally you just have to take my word for it. Plus i was not going to expose my old account. And this would. Be funny joke material if you ignor ethe fact that i wrote this in elementary. It was probably like, 5 years before hs.)

-protag boy and girl meet up with their friends

-boy drags the girl back her house and leave their friends alone

-girl asks boy whats happening

-boy literally just says “to do this” (or something along the lines of that) and instantly took off all his clothes (i was writing it more like those clothes fell off when he took them off idk wtf was happening), implying he wanted to have sex

-girl blushes and clothes also get taken off by boy in an instant (holy shit its so cringe the memory of it gets more vivid the more I remember abt it)

-the only words the girl says is “ah” “Ah” “aH” and “AH” progressively between single sentences of breifly writing the boy going faster(???)

Then they fucking explode i don’t remember what happened next i think they just came and i cut off the story. Or someone walked in on them idk what.

I hope this amount of cringe makes you think at least you weren’t me and didnt try to write a sex scene at 9-10 years old. I dont know how i came up with this. Just gotta love unrestricted internet access amiright? I never wrote any sex scenes after then bc this gave me very bad trauma. Laughs in pathetic. Anywho, i still have other very cringe stories but nothing can top this. I might post another one of my cringe writings but im going back to sleep bruh i woke up in the middle of the night bc my stomach hurts. Then spent 1< hours writing this lmaooo

[oak1985]

Storytelling, privilege, and community in OFMD

OFMD fandom loves the tradition of Stede reading books aloud to the crew.  Lots of fic use reading aloud scenes as a way to foster re-connection between Ed and Stede and/or Ed and the crew.  It’s also often used as an indicator of Stede’s kindness and generosity.  The assumption is that the tradition of Stede reading aloud which is referenced in episode 1 continued throughout the events of season 1 and will continue after the reunion.  And I get it.  Fandom in general, particularly fic and meta writers, tend to be readers--it’s one of the main ways we relate to others and show our love.  What else is fic writing and podficcing but an act of love and generosity, born of the impulse to share these stories with others?

But.  I’m not convinced this is what we should take away from season 1.  I actually think something much more interesting with regards to story-telling literacy, authority, and privilege is going on in canon.  For all that the reading aloud scenes loom large in our collective imagination, we actually only see one scene of this.  It’s never even mentioned again after the first episode.  In episode 1, it’s clearly established that Stede reading books to the crew is already a well-established and well-liked tradition.  Stede is reading them Pinocchio and the crew like it so much that the reminder that if they kill Stede, no one else can “do the voices” and they’ll never know the end of the story is enough to make several of them rethink their willingness to mutiny against him.  It’s clear from Wee John’s request for another chapter that this is something the crew enjoy, not something Stede is imposing on them (unlike consistent wages or vacations, other Stede innovations that are objectively “good” but that Stede uses to impose his values on the crew without listening to their preferences).  

At the same time, the same episode shows us that Stede’s literacy is not just a privilege, but a privilege whose power he is completely unaware of.  He complains to Lucius that no one else has taken advantage of his library and when Lucius points out that no one else on the ship can read, Stede is initially shocked, confused, and then dismissive (“What?  That can’t be right....No.”).  Stede’s ignorance shows the extent to which his privilege has insulated him from the reality of the world in which he lives, given that literacy rates in England in 1700 were about 30% and were presumably lower in the Caribbean with its higher rate of enslaved people. Immediately before going to read Pinocchio to the crew, Stede is grieving having left his family behind and tells himself, “Your family is here now.”  While the bedtime story routine thus helps to contribute to fandom, especially queer fans’, beloved found family trope, the implication that the crew are Stede’s children carries troubling overtones.  Historically, not only poc but also the poor/working class have been depicted as children in order to deprive them of rights.  Lack of education was often used as a justification for denying these groups the vote and for explaining why they would “always” be in a childlike condition.  As a white, landowning male in the 18th century, Stede would have been raised with a belief that it was his responsibility to protect (and direct) those within his purview, even if that meant protecting them from themselves (i.e., keeping them from striking, rebelling, or doing other things contrary to the vested interests).  One can see this play out in the role that Stede’s stories plays in the aborted mutiny.  At one level, Stede’s bedtime storytelling come from a beautiful and generous impulse to share something he loves with them.  At another level, it carries the taint of paternalism, the belief evinced by Stede again and again in the early episodes that he knows better than the crew what they need (wages, vacation, to learn to process their emotions (boy, he’s one to talk!), to learn to share).  The kindergarten teacher language of talking it through as a crew, sharing the fabric in the flag scene, and refusing to read more chapters because the crew has “a big day tomorrow” shows the extent to which Stede is enforcing his authority over the crew even as he is trying to care for them.  The reading specifically makes the crew dependent on him, as shown by Wee John’s reluctance to continue with the mutiny when he realizes that they won’t get to hear the end of the story if they throw Stede overboard.  Reading to the crew allows Stede to use his privilege to reinforce his authority, ironically differentiating and distancing himself from the crew by the very mechanism with which he is trying to bond with them.  By recasting the crew as his children, Stede is reproducing the very role of paterfamilias from which he wanted to escape.  It’s clear that Stede himself doesn’t really want that role (“I was just uncomfortable in a married state”) but he doesn’t yet know how to escape it.  He’s run away to sea, but in dragging the trappings of his wealth with him, he’s entangled himself in the expectations and limitations of his landed role.  

Given the story that the show seems to be telling about Stede’s growth, about privilege, and about subtle forms of violence, it probably shouldn’t be a surprise (though I was still shocked) that we not only don’t see Stede reading to the crew, we don’t hear any references to bedtime stories in the rest of the season.  What we see instead is a trend towards a more collaborative, communal oral storytelling tradition.  

Where episode 1 ended with Stede reading Pinocchio, episode 2 begins with Black Pete’s tall tales of sailing with Blackbeard.  This scene represents a clear reversal from the power dynamics of the previous episode.  Here, Stede is the one entranced by the story, whereas the other crew members are canny enough to know that Black Pete is lying through his teeth.  Not only is a crew member the one telling the story, rather than the captain, but the captain is the only one of the crew members not knowledgeable enough to be taken in by it.  Whereas Stede has the authority of literacy, he doesn’t have the knowledge of people (or traditions of oral culture that rely on exaggeration as art) that the rest of the crew has.  This scene, coming immediately after Stede’s story scene, shows that the ship’s storytelling traditions are already moving away from Stede’s sole, literary authority (notice how authority has “author” in it; European notions of power are completely embedded in literacy).  And yet, the transformation is not yet complete.  Storytelling power still rests in one individual, even though that individual between crew members and even though Black Pete’s storytelling prowess is clearly questioned by the rest of the crew.

By episode 6, there’s a much more communal storytelling model in place.  Although again this scene starts with Stede telling a story, it is an oral, improvised piece rather than a written work and he’s clearly not very good at it.  How do we know this?  Because the crew tells both us and him.  All throughout Stede’s story of the scary man with a hook for a head, the crew participate by questioning, critiquing, and commenting.  This is a much more cooperative oral tradition, less centered on one source of knowledge/authority and allowing for a mutual construction of stories.  The crew are also now empowered to mutiny against Stede’s storytelling, eventually cutting him off by exclaiming that Blackbeard must know real scary stories.  Everyone, including Stede, joins in asking Blackbeard to tell them a scary story, at which point Ed tells them about the Kraken and the art of fuckery.  Even though Stede is still shown at a disadvantage here, it’s noticeable that he’s not uncomfortable, feeling belittled, or wanting to return to a book reading, where he could hold power again.  While reading to the crew gave Stede his initial connection to them, it was at a distance - they were the passive recipients of his knowledge and he the (physically) distant purveyor of literature.  By contrast, in this scene, he’s actively engaging with the crew in a back-and-forth.  This mode of storytelling gives him a chance to get close to them in a way that reading did not, because here they are shared a communally constructed knowledge.  There’s no one undisputed author/authority here; although Ed still commandeers everyone’s attention and respect with his tale, in a way that Stede could not.  This makes sense, since Ed, coming from a working class and specifically seafaring background, would be more familiar with the art of oral storytelling than Stede.

The idea of Stede continuing to read books to the crew, like the fantasy of Stede teaching Ed to read, is an entrancing one.  But it comes with layers of privilege, power, and the assumption that a literate tradition is the best.  The Revenge, and OFMD, can tell more complex, collaborative stories than this.  

TL;DR: if season 2 doesn’t have the Revenge crew playing a game of Telephone or Finish the Story, I will eat Jim’s hat.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: gun violence, hospitals, blood

A/N: besties, i-...just read the warnings (slight spoiler: the angst will be resolved)

Masterlist

Chapter 21

“How exciting is this! Last day of kindergarten today and then your seventh birthday party tomorrow!” you exclaimed, “My baby is growing up way too fast.”

You squeezed Jo tightly.

“Okay, I’m going to drop Jo off and then I’ll pick up the cake from the bakery, go grocery shopping, and get the decorations,” Spencer kissed you as he held up Jo’s backpack for her to slip her arms into.

“Don’t forget Mrs. Flynn’s gift. She had to put up with 20 rowdy kids for a whole year, the least we can do is give her some cookies and a gift card to Target,” you said.

“Got it,” Jo patted her backpack.

“Goodbye, my loves,” you gave both of them one last kiss before they exited the front door and you finished getting ready for work.

-

At the end of the day, Jo came marching out of the elementary school in the usual class line. You and Spencer came running up to her.

“There’s my big kindergarten graduate,” you bent down to hug her with Spencer following suit.

“I got a diploma,” she beamed, holding up the piece of paper with her name on it.

Josephine Y/L/N-Reid

Her officially updated birth certificate name.

“We need to frame this and put it up right next to Daddy’s PhDs,” you smiled.

“I think this occasion calls for a milkshake,” Spencer lifted up Jo.

“It most certainly does...and fries,” you agreed.

-

You had a row of picnic tables at the park all decorated with balloons, streamers, and dinosaur tablecloths. You and Spencer woke up extra early to make sure everything was ready for the time of the party.

You both had been repeatedly taking trips back and forth home to bring everything to the park that you needed. Jo’s friends from her class would be there as well as the BAU.

As people started to arrive, you handed out party hats to everyone. Derek attempted to sneak past you.

“Ah ah ah,” you held your arm out to stop him, “No hat, no entry.”

“Even Hotch is wearing one,” you pointed to Hotch sitting at a table with Jack, wearing a bright pink party hat.

“Fine. Gimme the green one,” Derek sighed.

Jo and her friends were having a blast. You ordered enough pizza to fill everyone up completely but luckily, the kids ran it off playing tag on the playground.

“Okay, cake everyone!” Spencer shouted to gather everyone around the central table as he began to light the candles.

Jo took the end seat with the biggest grin on her face and you stood behind her. Derek and Penelope had their phones out to record and take pictures.

Spencer picked the cake up and took a deep inhale, signaling that he was about to start singing, “Happy Birth-”

BANG. You didn’t even know what was happening. You quickly pulled Jo behind you, shielding her from whatever made that loud noise.

Then, you felt something warm seeping down your front. You looked down to see your white shirt quickly darkening into red.

Spencer dropped the cake on the ground, running over to you, “Y/N!”

You fell to the ground just as he caught you. You could hear the muffled sounds of screams, kids crying, and people running away.

“Hey, eyes on me! Eyes on me, okay? You’re gonna be just fine,” Spencer was grappling at your torso to find where all the blood was coming from.

“Where’s Jo?” you panickedly asked.

“Penelope has her. Hotch called an ambulance, it’s on its way, baby. Just stay with me,” he pleaded.

“Spence, it hurts too much. I’m sorry,” you cried.

“No, Y/N, please. Jo needs you. I need you. I can’t do this without you,” he sobbed.

“You’re the best dad ever, Spence. I currently have a mug being shipped to the house that says so,” you feebly attempted to laugh, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Spencer whispered as the ambulance pulled up with its sirens wailing.

As you were being loaded into the stretcher, you caught a glimpse of Jo crying into Penelope’s shoulder.

“Spence, stay with Jo,” you whispered.

“What? No. I’m coming with you,” he said.

“She’s really scared, Spence.”

“Y/N, this is not up for debate. You were just shot. I’m not leaving you. Penelope will bring her to the hospital waiting room,” Spencer insisted, getting into the ambulance.

Everything went dark after that.

-

Spencer was nervously bouncing his leg up and down, blankly staring at the hospital floor. Everything around him was a monotonous hum.

“Reid...Reid...Reid!” Derek snapped him out of his trance, shaking his shoulder.

“Penelope is outside with Jo now and she’ll bring her in in a second but we need to get you cleaned up first,” Derek said, guiding Spencer to the bathroom.

Spencer looked down at his clothes. Whatever emotional state Jo was in right now would definitely not be eased by seeing her Daddy covered in Mommy’s blood. Derek helped wipe all the blood off Spencer and then handed him a spare pair of sweats from his go bag.

“W-What happened?” was the first thing that Spencer said as they returned to the waiting room and Derek texted Penelope that it was all clear.

“Hotch and Rossi are at the scene trying to figure that out now. We think the unsub was actually aiming for Jo but Y/N blocked the bullet,” Derek stated.

“Oh god,” Spencer put his face in his palms until he heard a familiar crying growing louder.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Jo wailed.

Penelope was also teary-eyed but Spencer could tell she was trying her best to hold it together for Jo’s sake. She transferred Jo into Spencer’s arms. Spencer tucked the little girl into his chest.

“Is Mommy okay?” she sobbed.

Spencer looked up at Derek and Penelope before looking back down at his daughter, “I don’t know, baby, but the doctors are taking real good care of her.”

Jo continued to cry into Spencer's chest for about a half an hour until she lost all of her energy and fell asleep. Spencer looked down at his daughter’s puffy red eyes. How could he possibly give her any more bad news on her birthday? You had to be okay. You were supposed to be the perfect little family. This was supposed to be his happy ending.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” a surgeon called out.

“Right here,” Spencer spoke softly and slowly stood in order to not wake Jo up.

Derek and Penelope stood right beside him.

“Ms. Y/L/N suffered a bullet wound to the gut. However, the surgery went well and she is expected to make a full recovery,” the surgeon announced.

“Oh thank god,” Spencer let out a huge exhale that he didn’t even know he was holding.

“She has lost a lot of blood so she’s not awake yet but you are welcome to wait with her if you would like. She should be up within the hour,” the surgeon informed Spencer.

Spencer nodded his head emphatically.

“Garcia and I are going to head back to the BAU to confer with the rest of the team. Text us with any updates,” Derek patted Spencer on his back.

“Right this way,” the surgeon guided Spencer to a room down the hall.

There you laid in a hospital bed, still managing to look beautiful after nearly dying and a multiple hour surgery.

He took the seat beside you, still cradling Jo in his arms.

About 20 minutes later, Spencer’s eyes snapped up to meet yours after he heard a little movement coming from the bed.

You opened your mouth slightly to speak but Spencer beat you to it.

“Marry me.”

“Am I alive?” you closed your eyes again, blinking really hard, and then opening them to still see the same scene in front of you.

“Yes, Y/N, you are luckily very much alive and I don’t want to spend another second not being married to the love of my life. I stupidly let you go once and I am not going to let that happen ever again. You and Jo are my whole entire life, there's nothing more I could possibly want. So, I am asking you…”

Spencer grabbed your hand and slipped the ring off your index finger, then he knelt with Jo still asleep in his arms, clinging to his neck, “...if you will do me the greatest honor of spending the rest of our lives together. Y/N, will you marry me?

“Yes,” you cried as he slipped the ring back on to your index finger.

“I promise I’ll get you another ring as soon as we’re out of here,” Spencer said.

“Shut up and kiss me, Spence,” you cupped his cheeks, pulling him towards you until your lips connected.

“Mommy?” you heard a meek voice ask from between you both.

“Hi baby. I’m so sorry I scared you like that,” you said.

Jo untangled herself from Spencer and wrapped her arms around your neck.

“It’s okay, Mommy, as long as you are okay.”

A/N: i got multiple crying headaches while writing and editing this chapter

[luvnami]

𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 (here) | 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 - This is my entry for @jjkmag​ Summer Collab! It’s my first long fic in a while but I had a lot of fun writing this (that isn’t to say I think it’s very good. I hope the plot/finality was pulled off decently ok lol). I hope you enjoy it! I chose the prompt 'coming of age', though there are definitely scenes where the other prompts were present as well. Reblogs, comments, shares and likes are really appreciated!!

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @getousuguruwife​ @amjustagirl​ @aliteama​

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Amnesia, Memory loss, Blood, Mild gore, Death, Blood loss, Bullying, Mild Racism (only in the first part), Corpses, Food, Manga spoilers, Pre-canon and canon compliant to a certain extent, Nightmares

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Nanami Kento's life has been... Good, bad, and everything in between. He (and many others) thinks he's mature, independent, the definition of what a proper adult should be like. But really, the only way he's made it this far is because you've been holding his hand the entire time.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 6.4k

The first memory Nanami has of you sits in a blurry haze at the back of his mind.

You’re probably four or five years old at best, squatting by a puddle in the empty kindergarten playground. Nanami wonders what made him waddle over to you that warm afternoon.

His shoes, scribbled with ugly caricatures in marker, carry him to the other side of the puddle. A shadow cast by a plastic slide slices your features neatly in half like a Greek theatre mask. Nanami doesn’t speak a word to you as he stares at your chubby fingers that push a fallen leaf around in the water as the surface ripples silently.

You look up at Nanami. He’s an odd child, excluded by the other kindergarteners because of how quiet and strange he is. Nanami’s blond hair is abnormal to the immature local Japanese children. They knee the back of his legs while calling him names like ‘banana-gaijin!’ and making fun of his fancy leather shoes.

“Do you wanna play with me?”

Nanami wonders if the words you speak to him are from your heart or something constructed from a plan to bully him again.

“My mama taught me how to make boats with leaves. See?” You point to the puddle. “We can race them.”

Nanami carefully selects a leaf off of the playground’s floor. It’s still green, freshly fallen from its branch. You grin toothily, your eyes sparkling.

“That’s a perfect leaf!” you declare.

Nanami thinks he wants to play with you forever.

He follows you around in school like a lost puppy after that, clutching his hands nervously when you stand up to the children who bully him. Nanami wonders if you’ll ever turn your back on him. He arrives earlier than you every morning and hurriedly scrubs at your table with his handkerchief to get rid of nasty words and obscene drawings, heart thumping against his cotton polo. When his mother asks him why his new handkerchief is so dirty, he remains silent and grips the hem of his shirt tightly.

Children are children; Nanami learns. Afraid of abnormalities, they defend their right to innocence and ego with harsh words and various schemes. He learns to ignore the whispers behind his back. What he can’t disregard, though, is when they lash out at you.

They jeer when you trip during P.E. classes and bump into you on purpose when you carry your lunch tray. You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Nanami holds your hand gently and leads you to the nurse’s office with scraped knees, hiccuping and swiping at your eyes roughly.

He wonders why you don’t take the easy way out and just stop being friends with him. What’s wrong with you? You hold him tightly, a bundle of thorns, in your soft hands and pretend that you’re not bleeding.

“Ken-chan?” you sniffle.

He turns.

“You’re my best friend, right?”

Nanami gulps. He doesn’t question why you cry on graduation day, bidding your final farewell to him with vague promises of meeting in the same elementary school. Something in his chest doesn’t sit right; the kind of feeling when his mother threw out his old stuffed toys after she deemed him too old for them anymore.

He watches you grow smaller and smaller in the rear window of his family car till you’re the size of an ant, his knees digging into the leather seats.

“Sit down, Kento,” his father chides.

Nanami ignores him. He watches you wave your hand in the air as the car turns around the corner and lurches into the seat.

☆*: .｡.

Nanami’s genuinely surprised when he finds out that his assigned seat is right next to you on the first day of elementary school. You’re no different, mouth wide open in an ‘o’ as you stare at him.“Ken-chan!”

You almost yell, and Nanami shushes you as his face heats up. He finds out that your mothers had conspired to put the both of you into the same school. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing just yet, but peace settles into his chest the same way the wings of a bird return to its sides after flight when you giggle at his flustered expression.

Through nine years of elementary and junior high school together, Nanami learns that you always arrange the tips of your pencils to face the right side of your pencil box, and you keep the torn bits of movie tickets shoved into your bedside drawer. You find that Nanami has a knack for dry humour — he’s blunt at every moment possible (which caused much distress after he talked back to a teacher that one time) and can usually be bribed for any favour as long as you pay him in food.

What the both of you find oddly shocking, though, is that no one else can see the creatures that swim through walls and perch in dark corners of the school.

They make you sweat whenever they get too close, bulbous eyes and strange bodies twisting in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible. Sometimes they make noises, whispering or coaxing or shrieking or crying in broken sentences.

Nanami learns to treat them as background noise. You, on the other hand, find that a little more complicated. Sometimes you latch onto him when one brushes against your arm, squeaking and swatting at them in an attempt to chase them away.

“They’re so gross!” you’d whine, pressing yourself even closer to Nanami. “Did you see that one in the gym yesterday? It had tentacles!”

In cases like this, the blond clears his throat and ignores you, averting his gaze. He doesn’t admit to anyone, not even himself, that the warmth of your skin through your uniform makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve grown so close to him that you even know that Nanami sleeps with Doraemon pajamas (absolutely, abhorrently embarrassing. He made his mother throw them out the night after you came over for a sleepover). It was inevitable for him to develop feelings.

Nanami shoves his feelings below a lid and sits on top of it, keeping them under lock and key. He’s sure this is just something to do with puppy love or ‘infatuations’ that are underlined in the puberty print-outs the school distributed, alongside scientific diagrams of genitals that the boys in his class giggle at.

Being friends is enough. Or so he thinks, anyway.

☆*: .｡.

It’s a Friday evening when the sky is dark, and street lights flicker in the distance. Nanami munches away on melon bread from a convenience store while you sip on a carton of juice. Your clubs had ended late today, so the sun was down by the time you left school.

“How’s the bread?” you ask, slurping up the last drops of your drink.

Nanami chews and swallows while you dab at your mouth with a yellow cotton handkerchief.

“It’s okay. Not as good as a bakery’s, though. Kinda stale.”

He crumples the plastic packaging in his hand and sticks it into his pocket, planning to dispose of it later. The both of you round the corner to the bus stop, and your feet fall still. A large curse sits in the middle of the road.

Numerous cars are crumpled like drink cans, smoke, and gasoline leaking onto the streets. There’s blood. Too much blood, in fact, that they seem like puddles of rain on the dark tarmac. Your juice box drops from your hand.

The curse turns to you, its teeth split vertically down the centre of what constitutes a face. Multiple eyes run down the length of its engorged body where various hands and feet stick out at random parts.

“Blood… Blood…” it moans in a cryptic voice.

Nanami stands with his feet frozen to the ground, eyes wide in horror. His knuckles turn white as he grips his school bag. Run, run, run! He screams internally, but his limbs don’t listen to him. The curse slides over the road towards him, slipping through the blood easily.

“Give me… Your blood…”

A part of the curse’s body bubbles up into a large hand. It swings itself back before throwing its newly created appendage towards Nanami. RUN RUN RUN! His legs don’t move. He squeezes his eyes shut, awaiting the impact. Except that it doesn’t hit him. Nothing hurts, except the shrill scream that pierces his ears. Nanami’s eyes snap open in horror. 

“Kento!” you yell, dangling upside down as the curse pulls you towards its mouth.

Your school bag lays on the ground below, books scattered as their pages turn red.  

“Run!”

Nanami drops everything as he scrambles towards you, tripping over his own two feet and landing face-first in the blood. His hands and knees sting. He shoves himself and gets up with his teeth clenched. You kick your feet in the air in a poor attempt to escape the curse’s grip but to no avail. Another groan is squeezed out of you as the curse opens its mouth, the foul stench of rotting bodies engulfing you.

“Run, Kento!” you plead.

How can he turn his back on you? Sweat drips down his forehead as Nanami pulls his hand back. The adrenaline that rushes through his blood clears in a split-second moment of raw emotion; anger, disappointment, confusion, sadness. A tingling sort of energy floods his body, and Nanami takes a sharp breath of air. He sees something like a ruler — a line divided equally with ten markings, the seventh one crossed out. His fist connects with it.

The curse lets out a weak moan of pain, shaking you around as it recoils from Nanami’s hit. It’s not much, just a surface injury at most. Nanami’s limbs tremble with exertion. One more time, again and again, until you’re safe-

A thick, gross liquid engulfs Nanami as the curse explodes in front of his very eyes. He coughs, running a slimy hand over his face. It smells like death.

“Woah! You put too much into that again, Satoru.” 

“Shut up!”

Nanami looks up as he hears footsteps move towards him, the quiet splashing of blood beneath shoes.

“Ugh, this place is so gross.”

“You okay there, kiddo?”

Nanami looks up to find a male with his hair pulled back into a bun staring at him. Behind him is a white-haired teenager with sunglasses (strange, hasn’t the sun already gone down?) and an imposing-looking man.

Where are you?

Nanami glances around frantically amidst the dead bodies that lie on the ground. Not you, not you, not- A tiny sliver of hope slips into his heart when he spots your uniform, and he stumbles over.

“Woah! Slow down!”

He calls out your name, slipping and collapsing onto his knees. Your eyes are closed, and a wound on your head oozes blood. A young girl with short hair reaches out to touch you, but Nanami pulls you into his chest, his eyes wide.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

His head spins. Are these good people? How did they just destroy that big monster? He hadn’t even seen them coming. Were they going to hurt you?

“Calm down, man! We’re good guys.”

“No one’s going to trust you when you say that, Satoru.”

The girl stares at Nanami.

“I’ll take care of your injuries. Can you let me see them, please?”

He relaxes. His grip on you loosens, and the girl feels for your pulse, nodding in affirmation.

“Alive.”

Nanami breathes a sigh of relief. At this realisation, his body begins to tremble like a leaf in the wind. He digs his nails into his palms but still they quiver. His heart pounds in his chest and he struggles to take a deep breath, exhaustion overtaking him.

“Hey, you okay?”

His eyes fall shut. 

☆*: .｡.

Nanami finds out over a hot cup of tea that those monsters are called curses, and not everyone can see them.

“Lucky you!” Gojo chimes in.

Lucky? His face wrinkles in despair and Getou laughs so loud at his reaction that he has to step out of the room.

Nanami had sustained minor injuries — nothing beyond a few scrapes and some trauma. You were fine for the most part. After hitting your head on the ground, you remained unconscious for a few more days after Nanami had woken up. You were covered in a few bruises, but otherwise alright. 

Nanami was infinitely thankful for that

Yaga tells him that he has enough aptitude to become a full-fledged sorcerer. The school he teaches at is called Jujutsu High and is located on the outskirts of Tokyo. Since he’s in his final year of junior high, why not give it a thought if he wants to join them? Nanami holds Yaga’s name card numbly.

He looks up at Yaga, only one objective clear in his mind. He doesn’t want to see you hurt any longer.

“Will you teach me how to exorcise curses?” he asks.

Gojo laughs outrightly and Geto snorts. Yaga gives him a confident smile, clapping Nanami on the shoulder (he doesn’t quite like that, but he overlooks it for now).

“You can count on that.”

☆*: .｡.

Nanami’s a little apprehensive about entering Jujutsu High, especially when you decide to enrol as well. Given the ability to see curses, you were adamant about learning to help others with this ability you were gifted with. He relented and sulked for the rest of the day until you gave him a cup of pudding.

The first day Nanami and you enter Jujutsu Tech, you meet a wide-eyed boy named Haibara Yu. He’s overly optimistic and passionate — precisely the kind of person that Nanami tires of interacting with. In fact, the very first thing Haibara says upon meeting the both of you irritates him.

“Woah! Blondie, are you from an emo band or something? Your hair really matches the vibe!” Haibara had gasped.

You struggled to suppress your giggles, biting on your lower lip as you turned to the side. Nanami, on the other hand, didn’t find it quite as funny.

“No, I’m not. Nice to meet you too,” he replied monotonously.

It takes all of the following month for Nanami to get used to Haibara’s eccentricities. He always does his best during training, mingles enthusiastically with the upperclassmen and chows down on at least two bowls of rice during break time. The most annoying part about him is how Haibara seems to get along so well with you.

You laugh too loudly for Nanami’s liking at his jokes, squeeze in between Haibara and him (brushing shoulders with the both of them! Seriously!) when they’re standing together just to listen in on Haibara’s monologuing, and sometimes even end up sparring with him instead of Nanami.

The blond curses that there is an odd number of first years and peers in the mirror after his shower as he wonders what he would look like with a black bowl cut. He even tries to finish more than one serving of ginger pork on one particular day and gets sent to the school nurse for a tummy ache.

Though, the three of you have chemistry that works out when fighting curses. Nanami is the primary damage dealer of the group, while you learn how to provide support with Haibara and create openings for Nanami to attack. So on your first ‘real group mission’ assigned to you by Yaga, you can’t help but set off with overflowing excitement.

It isn’t often that you have the opportunity to step outside of Jujutsu High on your own without supervision. Even on weekends, you’re usually expected to train or study. The sun shines warmly down upon the streets of Asakusa, and tourists and locals alike swarm the city area.

“Hey! We should totally give Sensou-ji Temple a visit later!” Haibara suggests, pumping his fist in the air.

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Nanami sighs.

“That’s what you said the last time we went to Okinawa, and guess what, Nanamin! We didn’t even get to try their sushi!”

“Yeah, and you forgot to bring back souvenirs for me, Ken-chan,” you chime in.

“I told you to stop adding -chan to my name.” 

“Why not? Doesn’t it sound cute?” 

“Mhm!”

Haibara nods furiously. Nanami ignores the both of you with a sigh. He slings a bag containing his sword over his shoulder once more as the crowd barely makes space for you to move through.

“We can’t take too long,” he relents.

The cheers and high-fives that you and Haibara give each other make a vein bulge on Nanami’s temple. He tries not to read too much into the way you immediately begin discussing what places to visit and eat at with Haibara — didn’t you care for his opinion? He shakes his head and increases his pace, leaving the both of you behind.

Nanami ignores the cries of ‘Ken-chan!’ and ‘Nanamin!’ that ring out through the crowd. Whatever. If you want to be with Haibara, then Nanami will gladly get out of the way for you. He drags his feet on the pavement and settles for a cup of iced tea in a nearby cafe gloomily.

What Nanami is doing is… childish. He knows, at the very least, that he should be happy the both of you have met a nice new friend. But he can’t help the jealousy that rises in his chest like smoke in a chimney when he sees you cling onto Haibara the same way you used to do to him.

Was Haibara nicer, more good-looking, stronger, funnier, gentler, better than every single trait in Nanami combined? You no longer ask Nanami how he slept the previous night, instead running over to Haibara and greeting him cheerily. Forget about how you used to come over to Nanami’s house to study after school — you and Haibara disappear to who knows where after training everyday.

He bites down on his straw. The bitter taste of a lemon seed fills his mouth and Nanami spits it out onto a napkin with more force than necessary. He takes a deep breath. He should make things clear to you, then, and let you know how he feels about you. To him, it sounds a little like love.

Nanami’s face flushes with embarrassment. Love is… Love isn’t this. It definitely isn’t getting jealous over your relationships with other people, nor is it forcing you to accept his feelings out of spite. He finishes the last bit of his iced tea, the straw making a gurgling noise as it fails to suck up any more liquid. He leaves his money by the counter and walks back outside, returning his heart back to its safe, clicking the lock shut once more. His shoulders sag as he lets out a pent-up sigh.

Nanami squints at his phone. The golden sunlight makes it difficult to read his messages, but he manages to pick out four missed calls from you and a hundred text messages from Haibara. His blood runs cold when he scrolls to the last text that he received.

Haibara Yu, 4.25p.m.:  curse help 6 cho

It’s currently 4.35p.m. 6-chome is a 15 minutes walk away, five minutes if he sprints fast enough. Nanami hopes that you’re okay, that Haibara has enough sense to call for other back-up or avoid the curse.

Nanami’s feet pound under him as he shoves his way through the crowds, earning distasteful looks and swears. He doesn’t care. Not when you and Haibara are facing a possible grade 2 curse alone, and not when it’s because of Nanami’s irresponsibility and useless emotions that had caused the three of you to be separated.

His breath comes quick and hard and his thighs burn, screaming for relief. He makes a sharp turn and almost crashes into a bicycle.

“Watch where you’re going!” an angry housewife yells, but her words fall on deaf ears.

Just a little more, he begs.

Nanami hears the fighting before he sees it. The sound of metal meeting metal and the roar of the curse sound uncharacteristically comforting to him as he draws his sword, racing to bear a fighting stance.

But he’s too late.

“Yu!” you cry out as Haibara crumples onto the ground.

His eyes meet Nanami’s. His uniform is tattered, face bearing wounds and his right arm is bent at an unnatural shape, almost like a knotted tree branch. You seem relatively unhurt, although your breathing is laboured.

“Kento,” Haibara wheezes.

Nanami’s feet don’t move. His chest heaves, perspiration pouring down his face and drenching his uniform. The grip on his sword slips ever so slightly. The curse stands at the end of a ruined district. You aren’t trained to fight in such close quarters, or reduce the number of casualties to a bare minimum. 

And Nanami hadn’t been here to provide damage to exorcise it.

“Who are you? Another small fry?” the curse scoffs.

It takes the body of a geisha, dressed in luxurious robes that whip about in the air. Consciousness? This isn’t a grade 2 by any means — it’s a special grade curse. The will to fight slips out of Nanami like water from a cup, trickling from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

“Haibara!” Nanami shouts.

The male gives Nanami one last smile from where he is.

“You’ve got it from here,” he whispers, lips barely moving.

The geisha stretches out its hand, a portion of its obi moving along with it. You and Nanami watch in horror as Haibara’s head is neatly decapitated from his body. His blood drips off of the ends of the robes as the curse cackles, his head rolling to a stop as his half-closed eyes stare up at Nanami like a dead fish’s.

“You think you can beat me? Look at your little friend!”

Fury rushes into Nanami like a wave meeting the shore.

“You’ll die here by my hands!” the curse roars.

You take a step back as the geisha prepares to launch another attack, silk sashes drawn back into the sky before they plunge back at you two in an aerial attack. Nanami leaps through the attacks as his body moves faster than he can process it.

You, on the other hand, create a shield out of cursed energy to try and deflect the attacks. At the very least, Haibara deserves a proper burial. There isn’t time for mourning now, and you have to wipe away the tears that pool in your eyes. You try to ignore the way his head rolls closer to your foot and bumps against it gently.

Nanami lets out a yell of anger. His cursed energy swells as he cuts his way through the sashes, movement based on momentum than anything else at this point. His mind is clouded with regret and frustration. Nanami channels his anger into his sword, the ten destined lines appearing before his eyes once more.

The curse lets out a cry of pain as it stumbles back, sashes redrawn as it tries to gauge its wounds. Blood gushes from a slash on its side and Nanami darts forward again — again, again, again, until its dead. His legs, however, are weaker than what he thinks they can bear. Nanami stumbles in his step.

“Ken!” you shout.

The curse grins. It takes little to no time to regenerate, skin overlapping raw flesh as it gets back onto its feet.

“You’re weak,” it taunts. “First your friend, now you. I’ll be sure to savour the last one as well!”

Nanami struggles to get back onto his feet. He gasps, heart ripping a hole through his chest. He’s so exhausted; so worn out, that his arms refuse to raise his sword above chest height. He curses.

You run over to Nanami, grabbing his uniform and dragging him back. The curse starts to chant ominously. Its face turns dark, taking steps that sway its body with thick, lacquered geta. You shove Nanami back as you’re engulfed by its domain, swallowed up by darkness and spit into a tatami room. He barely has time to call your name before you disappear.

“Shit!”

Nanami stumbles back onto his feet, but sinks down onto his knees again. His shoulders quake as he tries to suck in breaths of air, but his throat is too dry. He coughs and adjusts his grip on his sword. Shit, shit, shit. All of his partners tossed themselves at death as if it was an idle thing just to protect him. What was Nanami doing? He would never become a sorcerer like this, never be able to protect you.

He grits his teeth. He’ll never be enough.

Nanami picks up his sword, wrapping his fingers around its hilt one more time. He dashes towards the domain, tasting iron as he hacks and slashes at it. Again, again, and again. His hands turn numb and his cursed energy flickers like a candle’s flame, but there’s one thing Nanami’s insistent on — getting you out of there.

The domain finally collapses as Nanami finally steadies himself on his feet. You roll to the ground, breath shallow. Your uniform is sliced up in different areas and a pool of blood begins to spread where your head meets the floor.

“Ken…?” you whisper.

Nanami smells it — the scent of death. Why did he ever choose to become a sorcerer over an ordinary high school life? He wouldn’t have dragged you into this mess, caused you to be hurt time and time again. Nanami calls out your name tentatively. You don’t respond.

The curse roars with laughter as your eyes fall shut, “Don’t you see how I’m so strong? You’re nothing compared to me-”

Nanami sees red. He launches himself forward, brandishing his sword even if it’s for the last time.

He doesn’t remember what happens afterwards.

Nanami sinks into a pool of blood, head spinning with exertion. Your body lays to his left, Haibara’s head to his right. He collapses to the ground.

☆*: .｡.

When he comes to, Nanami’s eyes struggle to adjust to the white light that floods the room. It smells vaguely like antiseptic. He slowly sits up, body aching with exhaustion with telltale bandages wrapped around most of his exposed limbs.

A drawn curtain separates his bed from the rest of the room, which he assumes to be Jujutsu Tech’s sickbay. He runs a hand over his face and lies back down, letting sleep take him by the hand and lead him a step further from reality.

Nanami wakes up a second time when Shouko returns to the room. He stares at her, blinking once, then twice.

“Nanami?” she asks softly. “Can you hear me?”

He tries to reply, but his throat is parched. He ends up coughing, wrinkling his face as pain spreads through his ribs. Shouko rushes to get him a glass of water and calls the rest (namely Yaga and Gojo) over. Nanami nurses the glass as Yaga takes a seat by his bed.

There are no questions, only condolences and murmured explanations of what had happened. The only thing Nanami picks up is that you’re alive. That’s more than enough for him to relax, nodding dumbly along to Yaga’s words.

The curse had been on the brink of death when Nanami collapsed. However, he had put up enough of a fight for nearby sorcerers to come to his aid and finish it off. There was no doubt about it — it was a special grade curse. Yaga apologises for the miscommunication and loss of Haibara’s life. Nanami doesn’t reply.

No amount of apologies could turn back time and bring Haibara back.

It takes him a few more days before Nanami’s able to hobble around the school, aided by crutches. Gojo pokes fun at how he seems like a grandpa but even his jokes don’t bear the mean edge they usually do. Getou leaves a can of vending machine coffee by his bedside table and Shouko brings him some wildflowers. Nanami leaves the plush cat Yaga had made for him untouched.

Nanami struggles against the nightmares that plague him. In one Haibara cradles his decapitated head in his own arms, asking Nanami why he hadn’t saved his life; in another you die, guts spilling onto the streets with your eyes bulging from your skull. Nanami wakes up in cold sweat. He calms his breathing alone and doesn’t sleep a single wink.

It’s a rainy day when Shouko lets him enter the morgue. Haibara’s body is laid in a shroud of white, his head positioned to appear attached. Had he ever been so pale? Nanami’s fingers grip his crutches, gritting his teeth.

How long his eyelashes had been! A small scar runs down his left temple (“After my sister shoved me in the playground!” Haibara had chirped), and his bangs remain as perfectly cut as they had been when he died. Nanami half expects him to sit up, to grin and laugh at his twisted face.

“Why’re you so stiff, Nanami? It’s just a joke!” 

Justajokejustajokejustajoke.

A chasm opens up in Nanami’s stomach. His crutches clatter to the floor as he races out of the morgue, stumbling when pain shoots up his right leg. He retches dryly and tears pool in his eyes. Shouko silently covers Haibara and closes the door, Nanami’s tears falling alongside the pouring rain.

That night in his dreams, Haibara slices Nanami’s head off. He wakes up with his heart racing and tears slipping down his cheeks.

Nanami visits you the next day. He had been reluctant to do so — what if you blamed him for everything, for Haibara’s death and your injuries? He wouldn’t be able to bear it, to be hated by you. His hand hovers over your dorm doorknob, hesitating. Nanami takes a deep breath as he swallows his anxiety and opens the door.

It’s as if nothing had ever happened.

You sit on your bed, neatly tucked under the covers with a book sitting on your lap. Warm sunshine pours through the open windows and the penguin plush Nanami had won for you at a festival still sits by your desk. You look up when he walks in.

Nanami calls out your name. You stare at him.

“Sorry, but… Who are you?” you ask quietly, a sense of confusion lacing your words.

He stops by the door and Nanami’s heart sinks to his feet.

“I’m Kento. Nanami Kento,” he repeats, words tasting like ash in his mouth.

Checkered curtains flutter in the wind and the pages of your book butterfly open to an unread chapter. You keep your eyes focused on Nanami, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” you reply.

☆*: .｡.

A toxic mix of trauma and a severe head injury had caused your amnesia. Nanami lays in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling. If only he hadn’t let his emotions overtake him, if only he had been there a minute earlier, if only if only if only. Regret dulls his sense of taste and emotions. He no longer takes joy in eating anything (even those croissants Getou had bought while out on a mission), nor does he even crack a smile at Gojo’s antics.

Nanami returns to training once he is physically well again. He becomes the only first-year to attend Yaga’s classes, sparring practice conducted with the second years. He goes out on missions alone and learns to provide both defense and offense for himself. Nanami trains, he exercises curses, he returns to school. He repeats this same cycle mindlessly over and over again. 

Time heals, they say. Nanami wonders how much time it must take for him to let go of everything.

Nanami learns to hide his disappointment. His face becomes a strong facade for whatever his weak heart truly feels. The quiet sigh he lets out when no one’s around, the stretching of his neck after yet another fruitless day of training — Nanami decides that he’ll leave the world of sorcery once he’s graduated.

Seasons change and Nanami becomes a second year, then a third year. Getou falls away. The seniors graduate and new freshmen enter the school. Nanami keeps these things in the back of his mind as he raises his sword for a countless time, striking the training doll with ease.

You work with Shouko in the infirmary, occasionally helping out with office work. The school had deemed it better to keep you under their care than to release you outside. Like a rehabilitated animal, Nanami thinks.

You still remember no memories of him. Nanami brings you sweets and souvenirs from his missions, letting you trace your fingers over the fancy packaging with a sparkle in your eye. At this, Nanami swallows back his confession of love once more. He can’t bear to burden you with his feelings.

You form new impressions of him. Nanami turns into the stone-faced and adorable boy who treats you like fine China, always sticking his hands out awkwardly when he tries to give you something. The tips of his ears burn red when he lies — especially when you ask him, “Nanami, did you buy this for me?” and he shakes his head furiously.

You think he’s kind. He comforts you when you cry over lost memories, unable to remember the faces in photographs that had once been so familiar. The first thing Nanami does after returning from a mission is to rush to you. Were you okay? Did you have your meals? One time, he came over without getting his injuries checked and collapsed by your feet. You scolded him after that, tenderly dressing his wounds.

“Nanami!” you said crossly, a pout on your face.

He tries to forget how he had asked you to stop calling him ‘Ken-chan’. He ducks his head, hissing when you douse his skin in antiseptic.

Some things don’t change, though. You still keep your pencil box immaculately neat — the tips of your stationery always pointing to the right side. Though you don’t have any more movie ticket stubs, you carefully clip the pictures of your childhood Nanami had given to you together and keep them under your pillow. 

One day, you munch on a yummy biscuit Nanami brought back for you. He sits on the floor and polishes his sword, peering at it from every angle to make sure it’s evenly oiled.

“Nanami?” 

He hums.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like you’re from an emo boy band? Your hair matches it.” 

Your shy laugh rings out in the room as bile rises in Nanami’s throat. He sheathes his sword and lays it on the ground.  

“Yes, they have.”

He struggles to smile, his gut twisting.

☆*: .｡.

On graduation day, no one else but Nanami receives his certificate with a flower corsage pinned to his chest. The room is empty save for him and Yaga, the chirping of spring birds breaking the silence.

“I’m glad to have been able to teach you, Nanami,” Yaga broods. “You’ve grown a lot.”

Nanami does not reply. He bows deeply and strides out of the main building. All of a sudden, the traditional architecture and nature that surround Jujutsu High seems stifling. His skin crawls with the urge to leave as soon as possible. 

“Nanamin!”

He jumps. Turning around, he finds you grinning happily with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Congratulations on your graduation!” you chirp.

Nanami accepts the flowers awkwardly and rests them in the crook of his elbow, his other hand clutching his certificate. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees and a wave of sakura petals descend from their branches like rain.

“Nanamin,” your voice grows softer. “Are you leaving forever?”

He swallows, then nods wordlessly.

“Will I ever see you again?”

“I wanna be with you forever, Ken-chan!” you wailed.

“Forever’s a long time,” Nanami replied.  

He handed you his yellow cotton handkerchief, face wrinkling when you honked your nose into it. Gross. His neck hurt from sticking it out of the car window. He can hear his father tapping a finger onto the wheel impatiently, his mother silent as she stares out the front.

“B-but!” 

Your bottom lip quivered and Nanami let out a sigh.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be with you, okay?”

“Really, Ken-chan? Forever?”

“Yeah, really. Forever.”

You grinned in the waning sunlight as your mother tugged you away.

“I’ll never forget you, Ken-chan!” you shouted.

The car window rolled up and he watched you disappear into the horizon, turning as tiny as an ant.  

Nanami swallows his heart into the pit of his stomach.

“Probably.” 

“That’s not a definitive answer, Nanamin.”

“What do you want me to tell you, then?”

There’s a slight tremble in his voice. The plastic wrapping of the flowers crinkle under his grip and waves of emotions rush over him; the biggest out of all of them regret. He struggles to breathe underwater, keeping his eyes squeezed shut and nose plugged up. A sakura petal lands on his shoulder. He doesn’t bother brushing it away. 

“Say,” you whisper, taking a step to close the distance between Nanami and you.

He gulps as you place a hand upon his chest. He can feel the heat of your skin through his uniform and Nanami’s too dumbstruck to respond.

“Why don’t you give me your second button?”

Your eyes meet his. A smile toys with the corners of his lips and suddenly Nanami blurts out a nervous “Okay.”. His mind flickers back to Haibara momentarily; how you had appeared to like him so much back then. But he chooses to shove those memories into the back of his mind once more as you produce a small pair of scissors and snip the thread.

“You always take care of me, Nanamin. It was natural of me to fall in love with you,” you breathe, cradling the swirl patterned button in your hands.

A gust of cool air slips into his unbuttoned shirt and Nanami’s breath hitches.  

“Do you like me too?”

Your question is innocent. With the way you peer up at him, there’s no way that Nanami can lie. Your glittery eyes were the same ones he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He wonders if he still loves you in the same way as he did then; as faultless and innocent it had been. His heart sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, I do.”

Your eyes crinkle at the edges as you smile, an evident sigh of relief escaping your lips. You slip the button into your pocket before tugging Nanami even closer towards you. He yelps as your chest presses against his and the tips of his ears turn red.

You plant your lips by the side of his.

[capsironunderoos]

The Art Teacher and The Winter Soldier - Part One: Morgan Stark’s Secret Plan

Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Some stories about Bucky Barnes and an art teacher...

Word Count: 2,061

Warnings: None! Although there are spoilers for Falcon and The Winter Soldier if you haven’t finished that!

Author’s Note: Hey hey! I’m finally writing and posting again! I recently graduated from college with a degree in art education, and I just thought it would be cute to see Bucky Barnes date an art teacher, so here we are! This isn’t going to be a normal series, just kind of little snapshots of Bucky’s life with an art teacher. Also, this series follows the events of Endgame and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, except Tony lived, other than that it’s pretty much the same. I hope you enjoy! 

Here’s a link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist

“Captain America, The Winter Soldier, Scarlet Witch, and Iron Man walk into an elementary school… sounds like the start of a bad joke.” 

Bucky heard Sam mumble beside him and felt a smirk make its way onto his lips. 

“I thought the minivan was enough for a bad joke,” Bucky added, and Sam had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter, a startling cough erupting from his chest. 

Tony had asked a few of the remaining Avengers to go with him to the opening night of Morgan’s elementary school art show since Pepper had been scheduled for a meeting. 

Morgan’s work had been voted on by the other students in her grade and selected as the best in kindergarten, which didn’t surprise Tony. The Stark’s were always the best at everything they attempted. 

Tony had wanted to invite everyone he knew, but he was under strict instructions from his daughter that only a few could come. 

The girl in question sat contently between her Uncle Sam and her Uncle Bucky, small right hand gripping onto Bucky’s left, as her left hand held a small bouquet of flowers. 

Her smile grew when she felt the minivan take the familiar right turn into her school’s parking lot, and she strained to make herself taller to see the brick building slowly getting bigger as Tony pulled the car into a spot. 

Tony turned the car off as the Avengers piled out and onto the concrete, Bucky turning back to offer his hand to Morgan. She quickly grabbed onto it and jumped out, giggling as she almost dropped the flowers. 

“Here,” he gestured to the flowers, opening his hand. “Let me carry those Moe.” She nodded and handed the flowers to him with no hesitation, leaving his side to run to Tony, who turned just in time to catch her and lift her above his head before propping her onto his hip. Her giggles echoed across the parking lot, and Bucky noticed a few people shooting smiles their way. 

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam called, already climbing up the stairs into the school, and Bucky smiled in response, jogging slightly to catch up with the group. 

“You guys are gonna love it here!” Morgan called from the front of the group, still holding onto her dad as they walked into the building. 

Wanda glanced over at Bucky and Sam, stifling a laugh. 

“Yeah, you two will fit right in.” Bucky smiled and rolled his eyes, and Sam lightly shoved her with his elbow, causing her to let out a small giggle. 

“Alright kiddo, lead the way,” Tony prompted as he placed her back onto the ground. Normally, this would cue a few moments of whining and begging to be picked back up, but she was focused on other things tonight. 

Yes, Morgan Stark had a plan. 

She walked proudly down the decorated hallways, making sure to point out the artworks her friends had made as she marched the small group of Avengers to her artwork. 

Bucky was quiet as they walked, stopping every now and then to look at a few pieces done by older kids. 

He was easily reminded of Steve, and their time growing up in Brooklyn. 

He thought about the journals he’d buy for Steve on his birthday, or a new art material he’d see in a shop while out for a walk that he couldn’t help but buy. Steve would have loved this, would have been right at home talking art with the very animated five year old leading the group. 

Bucky smiled to himself as he began to move with the group again, not missing the various drawings of superheroes plastering the walls. He knew he wouldn’t find himself here, immortalized on paper by a child who saw him as a hero, and his smile drops, but only for a second as he sees Morgan stop before throwing her hands up and screaming. 

Tony jumps to find out what’s wrong, but before he can squat down to her level she is running full speed towards a woman in a skirt with polka-dots all over it, and when she turns to see who is screaming Bucky can see that her shirt reads “Your greatest work of art is you!” He smiles at the sentiment and watches as Morgan launches herself into the arms of the woman, who is now crouching in order to better receive the hug. 

The force of a very enthusiastic five year old knocks the woman onto the floor and she laughs with Morgan as they part. 

“Hello to you too Morgan!” She says through more laughter and Morgan waves, now seemingly shy as she steps back beside her father. 

Tony moves into action now, extending his hand to help the woman off of the floor. She graciously accepts, and Bucky notes the shy smile that washes over her features. 

“You must be the art teacher we hear so much about,” Tony says as she lightly brushes off the back of her dress. 

“Yes, that would be me! And don’t worry, I know who all of you are,” she adds, her smile widening as her eyes meet each Avenger’s. Bucky feels himself starting to blush when her gaze lingers on his for just a bit longer than his counterparts. 

“Even if I lived under a rock it’d be hard not to know who you were. Morgan talks about you all the time, and she tells quite the story.” Tony laughs and lightly ruffles her hair, to which Morgan responds to by swatting at his hand. 

“You’re telling me. I ask her to tell me bedtime stories.” This cues a round of laughter from the group before Tony turns to each member. 

“Well, just to be formal about it, I’m Tony, and this is Sam, Wanda, and James,” Tony says, and the woman shakes all of their hands, making sure to tell each one how wonderful it is to meet them. 

When she slips her hand into Bucky’s, he wonders if she feels the small jolt of electricity that he does, but he ignores it as she smiles at him. 

“Please, call me Bucky,” he tells her, and that same shy smile rests against her lips as she nods. He’s sad to let her out of his grasp, but even he knows that it would probably be weird to sit and hold her hand. 

When she turns back to Morgan after telling the group her name, Bucky catches Sam staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and Wanda too. The duo are standing in similar stances, arms crossed over their chests with their eyebrows raised at his actions. When Morgan has pulled her teacher out of ear-shot, Sam turns to Wanda and takes her hand before dramatically mimicking Bucky. 

“Please, call me Bucky,” he chirps in a lovesick voice, and Wanda gasps as she places her hand over her heart. “Oh, Bucky!” She adds, and Bucky can feel himself blushing as he pushes past both of them to catch up with Tony and Morgan. 

He tries not to smile as he hears their laughter trailing behind him. 

When they catch back up with Morgan, she is proudly standing beside her artwork as Tony is bent down to take a picture of her beside it. 

Bucky smiles, shifting the bouquet of flowers he still holds from one hand to the other as he watches the scene. 

His heart stops though, when he sees the drawing.

 It’s… Him. 

Morgan drew him. 

He remembers the picture the drawing is supposed to resemble, remembers standing very still as Morgan tried to figure out how to use her new kids camera. She had yelled “Don’t move!” each time he tried to shift his weight so that his knees weren’t locked for too long. 

“She was prompted to draw someone she looks up to,” he hears quietly beside him, and the voice of the art teacher pulls him from his thoughts. Bucky turns to her in disbelief, and he sees that she is smiling up at him. 

“I think she picked a pretty good subject for that prompt,” she adds, and Bucky can feel his breathing becoming shallow as he holds back tears. 

He slowly walks over to the drawing to get a better look, and he sinks to his knees, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. 

“Uncle Bucky! Why are you crying?” Morgan asks beside him, and all he can do is wrap her in his arms, dropping the flowers on the floor as he squeezes her to him. She giggles but wraps her arms around him too, before wiggling in his grasp to reach for the flowers on the floor. 

“Here, give these to my teacher, they’re her favorite!” She whispers in his ear and he nods. This kid could have asked for a trip to the moon and Bucky would have built the rocket himself. 

He quickly wipes the tear off of his cheek, turning to take a picture with Morgan beside the artwork at Tony’s request before standing and listening to Morgan’s teacher as she begins to speak. 

“I know you probably already know this, but Morgan is very advanced for her age. Most of the other students in her class completed this project in a day, but Morgan worked on this for a few class periods. She even drew from observation, using a picture she brought in. I don’t normally teach that until fourth grade.” 

A moment of silence passed as the group of Avengers stood in awe of the little girl before them. 

“Here, let me take your picture together before you go,” she offers, and Tony gladly hands his phone over to her. The group bends down around the artwork, making sure to keep it, and the artist, in the center. 

“Thank you all for coming,” she adds, as she hands the phone back to Tony, who in turn thanks her before leading the group back out of the building. 

Bucky stands still, watching for a moment as Morgan turns around to wink at Bucky, gesturing to the flowers in his hand. 

Her plan was in motion. 

“Bucky? Is everything okay?” He hears behind him and he turns to see the art teacher, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, a small look of concern sewn into her eyebrows as they arch together. 

“Yes. Sorry, um, I think these are for you. Your favorites, so I’ve heard.” Bucky states as he hands the bouquet over to her. Her face lights up at the gift, and Bucky smiles as their fingers ghost over each other as the bouquet is exchanged. 

“Oh, thank you. And tell Morgan I said thank you as well.” 

Bucky nods and starts to walk away, but finds himself stopping and turning back to the art teacher, who is already looking at him. 

“Hey,” they start at the same time and Bucky laughs as he nervously slips his hands into his pockets. 

“Would you wanna, grab some coffee some time, or something?” He rushes out, and the smile that erupts on her face makes Bucky’s heart speed up. 

“Yes!” She squeaks out, and her excitement catches both of them off guard. “I mean, yes,” she adds, composing herself, which makes Bucky laugh again. 

“Here,” she starts, pulling a pen hanging off her lanyard into her hands and balancing the flowers under her arm. 

She gestures for Bucky’s hand and he holds it out to her. She glances up to him and he blushes again, quickly pulling off the glove. She smiles and grabs his hand, clicking the pen as she carefully holds his palm open to write her number down. 

She pats it gently when she’s done. 

“Just… text me, okay?” She whispers, smiling up at him before releasing his hand to turn to a parent who’s just walked up, flowers still held in her right hand.

---

The ride back to the compound is relatively quiet, until Morgan catches her Uncle Bucky looking at a string of numbers written on his hand. 

She taps his shoulder and he looks at her as she gestures for him to lean down so she can whisper in his ear, “My plan worked! You’re welcome,” before leaning back against her seat, arms crossed and a look of satisfaction playing on her lips.

[etherealxgenie]

Why Lila is Marinette’s Own Fault || Miraculous Why?

(Before I begin, note that this is my opinion over the topic and am no way am bashing anyone’s love for the ship and/or character. I respect who and what you like, therefore expect the same courtesy. However, if this is something you cannot handle, please click the back button as this will be a heavily discussed topic. No flames allowed. Other than that, enjoy.)

So usually in the story, there’s always one or two mean girls who is out to get the main character for some kind of superior reasons to justify. And there’s no reason as to why they act this way just for the sake of being mean.

Like the Ashleys from “Recess”, who tend to pick on kids just for the fun of it sometimes or cause they’re popular.

Same can go for Libby from “Sabrina The Teenage Witch” who was out to get something for what she wants or just to be superior to the other kids in school.

For Miraculous, we already have that kind of character, Chloe Bourgeois, who is the daddy’s girl of the Mayor to get what she wants. And until we had some small character development in season two (which season 3 took it away!!), we had no reason feeling sorry for her and she was just for the convenient plot in the social life for Marinette in the series.

And then… there’s Lila.

Before I get into hand in this, let me note that Lila is not a good person at all in the show. She’s a liar, a manipulator and will do whatever she can to get what she wants. She breaks into homes, steals and molests pretty models. She’s been pretty shown to be just selfish without consequences and unless we get a background story of why she acts this way, she has no excuse. Especially when she teams up with hawkdaddy to now have permission to invade and spy on Adrien whenever she wants? Fuck that.

So in Volpina, Lila is introduced as this pathological liar to get attention in season one. She obviously goes for Adrien cause he’s the famous model after all. Reasonable considering as the new person looking for attention, you seek out the most popular/famous person in the school. That would Adrien.

Though considering with her connections, it would’ve been smarter to try and impress Marinette instead if Lila did her research before she came into the scene. But of course, new person so she wouldn’t know, but whatever.

And we can see Lila easily just says things just to get Adrien’s approval and such.

And so, Marinette follows them around (stalking? really?) because Tikki points out Lila has the book Adrien took from his father’s vault and threw it in the trash.

Now the SMART thing to do would’ve been to see how Adrien would handle the situation and wait for him to leave, if to acknowledge Adrien has a mind of his own and knows when to walk away (which he does). Or at the very least, try to distract them as Marinette while Tikki retrieved the book.

But… no. You transform into Ladybug to lash out at a girl PUBLICALLY, for anyone including Adrien to hear, just to embarrass her and call her out on her lying because she… “hates liars”.

Marinette, you fucking lie ALL the time! Most of those times to Adrien! And I’m not just talking about when in regard to being Ladybug, you hypocritical- (groans)

I can list plenty of episodes: Gamer, Aninmaestro, Ikari Gozen and hell, even Reverser counts! If she hadn’t lied about Marc’s book, Nathaniel wouldn’t have torn it! (sighs)

And before you all start jumping at me saying Lila got what she deserves, I only agree partially. Ladybug, as a public figure and heroine, practically the face of Paris, acted irrationally lashing out at a bystander because of lies which were or were not believable. Lila was broadcasting a post or making the news, she was trying (poorly) to impress a boy. Ladybug gave Lila the Regina George treatment.

Yeah, so you caused an akumatized situation and Lila hates your guts. Hell, I would hate you too. That’s like a celebrity jumping at an innocent bystander when they’re whispering to their friend about a rumor that only the two of them were talking about. You can’t jump to try and stop them and should just let it dispel on its own. At that point, Lila had no real power but you just influenced her.

And… oh boy did things get worse because of this.

Look season 3 was trash (except for moments in certain episodes) and I feel talking about the infamous ‘Chameleon’ physically hurts me but… yeah gotta point out a few things. The whole episode was unrealistic, and it was an obvious ploy to be sympathetic to Marinette with Lila back… but… you’re not fooling me.

So, Lila is still on her lying game, being able to fool the students and the staff?! Okay if you believe a student has so many disabilities without any paperwork proof, you can actually get fired for that for fraud. As someone who worked with education before, that’s just pure incompetence.

So yeah, Marinette comes to school seeing the seats changes to accommodate Lila and upright begins to plot to discredit her for her lies. UM… what happened to trying to start over with Lila after failing to do so the first time?

Oh, that’s right. She gets that way (at least partly) because Lila is sitting next to Adrien. I can understand if it was because they rearranged the seating without her say so but let’s face it. Lila sitting next to Adrien was her real trigger.

So since Marinette failed to acknowledge her mistake the first time, she spends all day trying to prove Lila is lying and in return the class is angry at her. Alya even comes to point out that Marinette is jealous of Lila.

And you know what? Alya is right.

Alya knows at least what Marinette is capable of doing so when it comes to Adrien and how far she’s willing to go. Remember that Alya is the one who encouraged her to break into his locker and steal his phone. So of course, she’s worried Marinette is gonna do something to the new girl.

I don’t blame Alya for doing one of the most competent things in the show: Warning Marinette to NOT go off the handle without proof and not make herself look bad in the process.

And because Marinette failed to do so… she made Lila her enemy AGAIN. It was bad enough you had her as your enemy as Ladybug, but now you get to deal with twice the drama!

Your own fucking fault, Marinette.

Also, the advice Adrien gave? I don’t blame for him for it and neither should you. Yes, his advice is not perfect, but with the options he has on his plate, its hard to do something otherwise.

For every encounter Adrien has had with Lila, it ended up with her being akumatized or a disaster no matter how he tried to handle her. We didn’t get to see how he would resolve in Volpina because of Ladybug’s intervention, but he would try at least in Chameleon and try to get her to see she didn’t need to lie and actually tried to befriend her. At this point, Lila was already triggered by Ladybug and Marinette so she just might have to take Adrien by force instead.

At that point, Adrien just wants to stay away and which he was trying to tell Marinette don’t interact with Lila or confront her cause there’s no way to do so at this point. Maybe he was trying to tell her to wait until her rumors got discredited, but he didn’t say it clear enough for her to understand.

And keep in mind, Adrien is a sheltered child with little to zero social skills taught to him by Nathalie and Gabriel. Hell, we don’t know how his childhood was really like even with Emelie around either and Adrien seems more like the pacifist unless he needs to absolutely step in. And he did by cleaning up Marinette’s mess in ‘Ladybug’. So now he’s gotta suffer being around Lila more because of Marinette making Lila her enemy.

But once again, this is bad writing as the writers of the show obviously forgot what it’s like to live in reality. In the real world, Lila would be immediately discredited without any proof the moment she came back. Not to mention, some of the class have their own connections and have more braincells proven in the previous episodes. Google search and such. A 5-year-old wouldn’t believe these lies in these times. Hey, I believe that because I once had a kid in kindergarten during my time as an afterschool art teacher look at one of my books I illustrated before and said they liked the ‘graphics’.

Kids are fucking smarter nowadays than you think.

The only reason anyone would believe Lila’s lies is if she’s magically influenced with some kind of ‘silver tongue’ spell or something and honestly? It looks like that’s the reason.

I dunno if Thomas Astruc or Zag is trying to insult the kids/adults or insult themselves to say Paris people aren’t that smart. If it’s the latter, you should see what you are doing because I don’t want to believe that because that’s disrespectful.

I know it seems I’m trying to stand up for Lila this portion, but I’m just looking things in a  more realistic and logical way. Did Lila take things too far? Yes, waaaayyy too far and should be arrested for it since she works for Hawkmoth. But it could’ve been handled better and that makes Marinette at fault too.

Part of me wonders if she’s done this before because in Zombiezou, she also causes Chloe to ruin her gift for Ms. bustier. If Marinette didn’t antagonize Chloe in the locker in front of the class, maybe she wouldn’t have done anything. Again, I’m not saying Chloe was justified, but if that was the reason, yeah I can see her doing it for payback.

So to all those fics where I’m supposed to be ‘Boo-hoo’ for Marinette because of what Lila did? Fuck you guys because you need to dig deeper into the story to see both sides and not just make it a pity party where Marinette is the innocent victim.

It’s called “Cause and Effect”.

And considering she made Lila her enemy, Marinette is gonna get effected enough because that’s how karma works.

[thedeathdeelers]

Trevor doesn’t remember when he first starts thinking of his bandmates again. His dead bandmates, that is, and just thinking the word dead makes him want to curl into the fetal position all over again like when he was seventeen. He thinks he starts remembering them when a decade has passed and Carrie is born. He was twenty-seven and there was this little baby with big eyes and small pink fingernails in his arms, when he thinks ‘She’ll never get to meet her uncles.’ He doesn’t cry then, but it’s almost as if his baby girl can feel his sadness because she starts screaming in his arms and it's enough of a distraction that he rocks her to sleep without thinking of the boys again that day.

He keeps them locked away in the back of his mind for the better part of five years until kindergarten rolls around and little Carrie with her curly pigtails and glittery Hello Kitty backpack comes home excitedly talking about her new best friends.

“Daddy, they are so cool! Flynn has dinosaur stickers and she gave me one. See!” She points to the top of her right hand where there’s a green pterodactyl cartoon sticker firmly slapped on. “And Julie has this huge purple crayon and she let me use it to write my name!”

At first, he’s beyond excited. His little girl made friends on her first day, which shouldn’t have been such a surprise now that he thinks about it since she has always been a little go-getter. Still, he ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ at the right moments as she talks his ear off about her new friends. By the end of the first week, Carrie has decided she wants to invite her best friends over for a small back to school party with just them and lots of pizza. She reminds Trevor three times Friday night not to forget that Flynn likes Hawaiian pizza and Julie likes orange Fanta best, and that he should become best friends with their parents because she’s decided they are all going to grow up and live together.

He laughs and a twinge of ache in his chest reminds him for a moment of a time when he was younger, not as young as Carrie maybe but just as naive. He remembers for a second flashes of running around playing tag at the park and scrapping the top of his thumb’s skin off. He still has the scar.

He can still remember Alex pulling a Batman sticker out of his pocket and taking him to the public restrooms to clean the cut. Alex the worrier, even at twelve, rambling about getting the cut infected and the proper way to tie his shoes and doesn’t he ever think about where he’s walking.

“Bobby! Oh my god, please tell me you don’t need stitches!” He can remember floppy blonde hair and blue eyes and gasping breaths. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t hurt, you idiot, your eyes are watering.”

“Maybe I’m just mesmerized by your beauty, dude,” he can hear himself replying to try and ease the rigid shoulders and deep frown on his friend’s face. “Really, man, I’m fine. Just a little blood.”

“Let’s just get you to a bathroom and wash it off, okay?” But Alex had been hiding his eye roll and curling lips and his shoulders no longer made him look like an awkwardly hanging scarecrow. It was enough to make him forget his thumb was throbbing and dripping blood.

The scrape is deep enough that it bleeds for a while into the sink, he can still picture the reddish water as it goes down the drain. He and Alex had met in the back of their sixth grade English class, Alex was shy and constantly biting his nails while he was just trying to catch a nap without getting in trouble. They’d bonded over a mutual silent agreement: Bobby held Alex’s hand under the desk when he had to read aloud in class and Alex would nudge him with the right answer when the teacher would call him in the middle of a power nap.

“Gatsby is gay,” he can remember Alex whispering to him when Miss Augustine had called him one time in class. He remembers repeating it without a second thought and realizing only seconds later what the fuck he had just said. He remembers wanting to turn to Alex because he knows there’s something important in the interpretation for his friend. He knows it by how Alex sometimes stares at that soccer player, Gabriel, who sits two rows in front of them. He knows by how Alex turns red when the guy notices him staring and the anxious way he strums a beat with his fingers. He wishes he could turn to him and say he accepts him no matter who he loves without saying it because he knows Alex isn’t ready for that discussion yet. But they’re in class so instead he turns to his best friend and gives him an overly exasperated look, hoping it conveys how he has no idea how he’s going to dig himself out of this one but Miss Augustine had smiled and just went about her lesson.

They never talk about it but a few days later, when he plops his copy of the book onto Alex’s desk before class he smiled and says, “You were right. Daisy was totally a beard. Nick and Gatsby were totally in love.” And reading shitty Fitzgerald - who stole more than half of the amazing work written and attributed to him from his wife Zelda, and as a feminist Bobby knows that’s just some misogynistic bullshit he cannot tolerate even for a school grade - is all worth it. Because Alex looks at him with a look of pure joy that makes him feel like he just scored an extra carton of strawberry milk at lunch (and that’s immense happiness because everyone loves that’s pink milk.)

He’s thinking about the park with a bloody thumb when he hears the doorbell and goes to answer it. And suddenly all the excitement of meeting his daughter’s new friends leaves his body as a chill kisses his spine. Nothing prepares him for seeing the girl from the Orpheum staring at him with a taller, blue-eyed man who must be her husband. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open, What are you doing here? He wants to ask. Are you a ghost? But before he can, he feels Carrie wiggle her way past him and leap into two pairs of arms. He can just make out black, thick boxer braids, deep brown skin, and a bright mint feather boa above Carrie’s head and he knows he’s just met Flynn. The other arm wrapped around his daughter is attached to a girl slightly smaller than both of them, a huge mass of curls making her appear their height with light brown skin and a wrist covered in macaroni jewelry. And that must be Julie, which means, he looks up to see the parents in front of him - the girl from the Orpheum is her mother and he’s never going to be able to forget that night again.

“Flynn’s parents asked us to take her because they were running late for a dinner reservation they had scheduled months in advance. I hope you don’t mind just us,” the man says with a friendly smile as he reaches his hand out. “I’m Ray Molina and this is my wife, Rose.”

Rose, Trevor thinks as he briefly thinks back on that fateful night. Size beautiful, he can practically see Reggie handing her their band’s t-shirt. He can almost feel Luke leaning his arm against his shoulder and telling her that he’d had a burger for lunch. He didn’t even have to look to know Alex was rolling his eyes at how bad his flirting game was. It was like losing them all over again, only he couldn’t; this was his daughter’s day and he couldn’t wallow in pity. He has to host, so he reaches his trembling hand out and offers the best smile he could offer.

“Hi Ray,” he turns to his wife. “Rose,” he nods and watches as her polite smile fades into a softer one, a genuine one, “I’m Trevor.”

She doesn’t correct him on his name. She doesn’t even look to be affected to be honest, until Trevor leads them inside and she sees some of his awards on the walls. Ray is busy helping to serve the pizza and soda for the girls and it leaves him alone with Rose. She doesn’t mention the award for ‘Now or Never’ new hit single on the Billboard 100 or its being #1 on VH1. Rose doesn’t have to, all she has to do is look at him and Trevor feels himself turning back into the scared kid who showed up at the hospital screaming about his friends. Screaming to the nurses who told him he wasn’t looking for a hospital room, he was looking for the ID numbers of bodies at the morgue. He gives her a slight head shake, as if to plead with her not to bring it up. She nods, but he feels his guilt grow heavier as she leans up to gently smear a line across his name TREVOR WILSON next to the title for up-and-coming artist.

It’s Carrie with her signature giggle and yell that makes them head for the kitchen. “Daddy, can you come sit down! Before we eat we have a surprise!”

They walk in to find Ray sitting amusedly at the dinner table. He beckons them to sit down with him and Trevor can’t help but laugh at the scene in front of him. The girls have obviously gotten into his stage makeup and Carrie, Julie, and Flynn are wearing matching bright red lipstick and glitter on their cheeks. Flynn is sashaying with her boa as Julie holds Carrie’s pink one, and Carrie has her hand on her hip as she strikes a pose before snapping her fingers and triggering the sound system. ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua starts blaring in through the speakers and the three adults share a look. Should they turn off the song? It is highly inappropriate. But to do that would mean having to explain why it’s inappropriate and do they really want to ruin a song that as far as their kids are concerned is about Barbie living in her Barbie world?

“Hey!” Carrie yelps and their heads all snap back to the girls pouting at them, “We are trying to give you a concert! Don’t make us waste all of Flynn’s cool moves!”

“Okay okay,” he shakes his head, “Don’t you have more cool moves to show us, Care?”

“No,” his daughter gives him a dead serious face, “we have limited choreography.” She says it with such a puff of dismay and sass that Trevor can’t help but let out the loudest laugh he has in a while. There’s no way Carrie even knows what she’s saying but she must have heard it when he was on the phone with his agent who was arranging his next music video.

The thought pops up before he can squash it, Alex would’ve loved her sass, he would’ve loved to dance with her. But it doesn’t hurt as much, to think of Alex smiling and dancing with glitter everywhere.

It’s not long until Rose and Ray are laughing along too and the three watch the girls spin, twirl, improvise lyrics, and throw their feather boas around long after the pizza has grown cold. - 🌙 (so this is the first bit and each bit shows how I decided to headcanon bobby met the boys in school and remembering them and leads you to rose confronting him and learning about the boys before her death ahhh ok let me know if it’s ok 🙈)

excuse me this is

really good????

more please 😌

[itsclydebitches]

I like to think that the HH are actually Academy washouts. Fiona's semblance seems awesome - just not in a fight. Joanna isn't a character. May could have gotten in on family connections. Robyn at this point isn't a character either. We've never seen them fight a single grimm (I'm pretty sure?). They were real useless when Tyrian attacked. Also what do Academy graduates who didn't go into the military even do? Solitas doesn't seem to have a place for them between graduation and vol. 7.

Yeah, their skillset isn’t exactly impressive. They’re guarding the party when Tyrian attacks, but if I recall it’s Marrow who uses his ‘Stay’ and Robyn just points her arrows at Penny (who the audience knows is innocent). Fiona and Joanna talk about protecting the people of Mantle, but they seem to be staying in the camp while they tell Team JYR where backup is needed to kill grimm. May is involved in a stealth mission with the group and leaves before the Penny fight, goes to help Mantle, but then isn’t shown doing anything. She also sees Cinder attack the civilians during the evacuation but doesn’t enter the fight. Joanna, uh, threatens a civilian journalist at one point... which is still great. Robyn is (maybe?) the only one we see engaging in battle, but she: had two other powerful fighters when taking on Tyrian, made the horrendous call to attack Clover, was unconscious for the rest of that battle, hung out in a jail cell, and then again made use of Marrow’s semblance to arrest the Ace Ops. Qrow fought Harriet, she piloted the airship. I think that’s everything? I mean, there’s some implied fighting in the background, but it all either fizzles out before it can start, or happens where the audience can’t see it. Robyn was going to attack the Amity supply run until Penny got her to back off, they presumably fought (non-combat?) drivers to steal the supplies later, she dodges Blake and Yang’s attacks during the chase, and the HHs maybe helped during the first grimm attack? I honestly can’t remember, but none of this is impressive. Whether we have a writing explanation or not (example: May doesn’t join the Cinder fight because she’s not a member of Team RWBY and, presumably, the audience only wants to see MCs taking on a main villain) it comes across like they’re the train goon guards of Atlas: those who never attended an Academy, or who finished at the bottom of their class. You can fight, technically, but your abilities certainly don’t compare to someone like Qrow Branwen or Ruby Rose. If Ozpin and Oscar are nearby they’ll laugh over your arrogant attitude with so little to justify it. 

None of which helps RWBY’s worldbuilding. We’re introduced to a whole group who calls themselves huntresses, but they’re not shown using those skills to achieve their goals. We’re told that Atlas combines its academy with its military, but when Salem attacks we’re only shown two huntsmen joining the battle: Flynt and Neon. We see Weiss asking if she’s allowed to arrest her father for conspiring in an election (never answered) yet Rhodes acts like he has no power to arrest this woman for child abuse. The series initially tells us that huntsmen are a specialized group who protect people from grimm, yet nowadays we get joke jobs like Jaune helping a bunch of kindergarteners cross the street. A lot of fans laughed at the idea that RWBYJNOR are the “traitors” the Ace Ops said they are because they obviously aren’t citizens of Atlas, yet they lived in Atlas, were issued Atlas licenses, and worked as members of the Atlas military. So... what gives with all this? To say that the role, responsibilities, power, and jurisdiction of a huntsmen is a mess would be putting it lightly. RWBY can’t expect us to criticize Rhodes if we don’t understand what his role is here, or cheer on Weiss if we don’t know what power she holds, or grapple with Adam’s death if we don’t know whether fighting/killing people is an expected part of the job, or ignore full immersion into a kingdom if they never introduce a, “Well, you have all the benefits of a civilian, but you’re not technically one” explanation. RWBY’s worldbuilding is all over the place and it only gets worse each time they add in a new scene or detail. Apparently, Hazel killed off most of a kingdom’s huntsmen and no one but Qrow noticed! Doesn’t sound like those are characters having an impact on the world they lived in. 

[sa-suga]

youth by troye sivan w akaashi? I think it's an interesting contrast of like vibes! hope u feel better as u write!! 🥰🥰

“cross your fingers, here we go”

∟ akaashi keiji x gn!reader | fluff

warnings: the author’s love for shoujo tropes and also waxing lyrical because the best friends to lovers trope is my weakness

song rec: youth - troye sivan

masterlist  

“Keiji!” You call out to him through the gaps in the crowd, shielding the candied apples you hold in each hand as you make your way over, “Here, I got one for you too!”

“I told you not to wander off,” He chastises, but takes the candied apple you hold out to him anyway. You stick your tongue out at him childishly. He doesn’t dignify you with a reply.

He’s stunning in a yukata tonight - you try not to think too much about the way his arm brushes yours as you’re jostled through the crowd.

“Where’s Bokuto-san and the others?”

“He wanted to go goldfish scooping,” Keiji says, biting into the candied apple - and wow, his lips look really soft - “I told them to go ahead without me. You went missing, after all.” The light jab makes you huff, and you turn away to hide your blush - I’ve been looking at his lips a lot recently, you realize, with no small amount of horror, this is the plot of a shoujo manga, isn’t it.  

"You can’t expect me to not buy candied apples when I see them,” you tell him instead, “I’d have thought you’d know that by now.” Get a grip, y/n. This isn’t the boy from the next class, who hovers in the doorway during lunch, who’d shyly asked if you’d be willing to model for his art project.

It’s Keiji, the first friend you’d made in Tokyo after you moved, who had held your hand and led you home when you’d tripped and skinned your knee in kindergarten. It’s Keiji, the boy who pushed you on swings till you’d had your fill, who had punched your first boyfriend because he’d cheated on you - you think that might be the only time you’ve ever seen him punch anyone. You still remember the arc of his swing - clumsy, because you’d both only been fifteen then - and the look in his eyes - he’d known it’d end in heartbreak, had warned you so, but he’d been so angry to be right.

(It’s Keiji, the friend who’s always been there for you, and you can’t ask him for more when he gives you so much already.)

“I guess I should,” he agrees, and your brain blanks for a moment at the small tilt of his lips.

“Damn right,” you mutter, and take a violent bite out of your apple. Then, in a desperate attempt to distract yourself, “Hey, the fireworks should be starting soon!”

You make off in the direction of the harbour, throwing the stick of your candied apple into a bin by the road.

(You don’t notice Keiji’s eyes on you.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

When the fireworks burst overhead, you forget to breathe.

The explosions drown out everything else. You watch with wide eyes as a thousand coloured stars rain down over the water.

Keiji watches you.

(It’s one of those moments, isn’t it? In shoujo manga, this is where the male lead confesses.)

Keiji is not the protagonist of a shoujo manga, or the love interest. All he is is a boy, whose mind runs through a thousand different outcomes in the span of a second and points him towards the worst possible one in the next, and who’s been in love with his best friend even before he’d been old enough to understand what love meant.

You clap as the first round of fireworks ends.

(Ah, he missed it, didn’t he.)

You turn, smiling.

(That’s okay. He’s not the protagonist of a shoujo manga, or the love interest. All he is is a boy.)

“Keiji,” you say, “look, the fireworks are starting again.”

“Y/n,” his tongue sticks to the roof of his mind. I’ve loved you since you tripped over a volleyball in kindergarten; I loved you when you stole my food, and when you let someone who wasn’t me break your heart, he wants to say.

(”Keiji, it’ll be our last summer soon, you know?” Your bento lying forgotten in your lap, a second-year math textbook spilling from the bag by your side - he remembers committing the scene to memory; the way the sun spilled over your limbs, soft, and lingered gently on your cheeks.

“Doesn’t that kind of make you want to do something reckless?” You’d prompted him when he’d remained silent. “You know, do the dumb things all young people do?”

“You do the dumb things young people do,” he’d pointed out, “with Bokuto-san.”

“I don’t mean those,” you’d huffed. He hadn’t known what you’d meant then - only that it involved abstract concepts like youth, and probably wasn’t for him.

He does now.)

“Y/n,” he repeats -  doesn’t that kind of make you want to do something reckless? - “I like you.” Yes, it does.

The pause between his confession and your answer stretches long enough for him to grow light-headed.

Then, you say, “I like you too.” He breathes. The air hurts on its way into his lungs.

You move closer, your hand reaches out for his.

When you lean in, he doesn’t close his eyes. He etches this into his heart: your lashes fluttering against your cheeks, the stutter of your eyelids when they drop shut.

He kisses you, and the world blurs into the background. You taste like the candied apple you both had. You taste like summer, like reckless decisions he can’t imagine making with anyone but you.

You break apart to breathe. The fireworks burst overhead.

(Ah, it’s too late. The lead and the love interest are supposed to kiss under the fireworks.)

You lean into his warmth, humming happily, and when you turn to watch the fireworks for the second time that night, he admires the way the colours dance across your cheekbones and catch in your eyes.

(It’s okay. Keiji isn’t the protagonist or the love interest of a shoujo manga. He isn’t the ace of a sports team, or topping academics in school. He doesn’t have a lofty goal, or something to prove. 

But that’s okay, because he has you.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

i’m still not sure if this is ooc, but this was a really interesting request to write! thanks for requesting :3

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 2 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| chapter 1

A/N: hiii, this is chapter 2 of this lemyanka childhood friends, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers whatever you wanna call it. I really wanted to play with the time skips to show different parts of their lives together throughout the years so this is a continuation from chapter 1 a few years later. thanks for reading <3

-2-

At the age of thirteen, there were many things Priyanka loved. The list included: electric blue glittery nail polish, writing her name with a golden pen, pop music and girl groups-especially Britney Spears and The Spice Girls-, any movie with Lindsay Lohan in it, acting in the school productions -especially if she got the main role-, sleepovers over Lemon’s house where they secretly watched The O.C., seeing films with Lemon without an “adult” with them, re-acting scenes of the Cheetah Girls movie with Lemon…

She was at Lemon’s a lot.

The thing was, Lemon was the only child of her parent’s marriage, her parents both worked, and most of the time she had the house on her own. For Priyanka -who lived with her siblings and her parents and couldn’t spare one second of privacy at her own home- it was like paradise. They did everything together, on the weekdays they did homework together and afterward, they would lay in the blonde’s room reading magazines and cutting pictures of celebrities and clothes they liked, or listen to a new CD they had been saving for weeks to buy for hours until they knew the lyrics by heart.

Her room had yellow walls -big shocker- and it was covered in posters and pictures with Priyanka, white carpet on the floor, and a mix of Barbie dolls and makeup over the boudoir. She also had a large single bed only for herself with like a million fluffy pillows they had shared more than once.

Lemon had ballet classes three times per-week and Priyanka had rehearsals with the drama club but those were the only moments they were apart. Being childhood friends, their parents got into the obligation of sending them to the same primary school after finishing kindergarten and now they would attend the same secondary school once summer was over.

It was a warm day of summer, Lemon rolled over her bed and showed Priyanka an item she liked, Crazy in Love by Beyoncé played on the radio while the other girl was trying to cover a pimple on her chin with some foundation she had bought in the mall.

“You’re going to make it worse.” Lemon made her remove her hands.

“It hurts, it’s like a little red dot full of hate.”

“Use toothpaste instead.”

“Does it work?”

“Allegedly.” She shrugged. “I read it somewhere.”

“Okay… What did you want to show me?”

“Look at these,” she pointed at a picture of Hillary Duff. “I need those shoes.”

“That’s a pump.” Priyanka said, unimpressed.

“But it’s pink and yellow. How you don’t like the gradient in the colors? I’m in love.”

“Can you even walk with heels?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I can. When you’re short like me, you gotta have some options.”

Priyanka couldn’t argue with that, for her age she was already one of the tallest girls in the classroom. Sometimes she disliked being that tall, she felt like a little deer that couldn’t control its feet, wobbling around awkwardly.

Her best friend flipped a few more pages.

“Look! It’s a poster of Ryan Gosling from that movie… The Notebook.” She sounded excited.

Right. They were supposed to be excited about handsome muscle guys but there was something about it that didn’t click with Priyanka. She thought maybe she was just too young to get it, that when she’d grow older she’d get the feeling but until then, she had become very good at pretending.

“Oh, he’s so hot.” She hoped Lemon didn’t notice the fakeness of her voice.

“I know, right?” She giggled. “Do you want his picture?”

“Ah… you can keep it… I already have Leonardo DiCaprio’s and that’s just too many white guys.”

“Alright.” She picked a pair of scissors and started cutting the actor’s silhouette. The pair of dark-framed glasses she had on kept sliding down her nose bridge.

Priyanka smiled fondly at it.

“I’m home!” It was Lemon’s mom that had just returned from work.

Lemon jumped out of the bed and stood in the door’s frame. She looked even smaller in that oversized t-shirt of the Powerpuff Girls and shorts she wore as pajamas. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail that brushed her shoulder blades.

“Hi, mom.” She yelled. “Priyanka’s here!”

“Hi, Priyanka!”

“Hello, Mrs. Baptsita!”

Priyanka adored Mrs. Baptista, she was a little wacky for Lemon’s taste but it was because she was younger than most moms with kids their age. She liked Priyanka and she supported their friendship since kindergarten, called them the Ketchup&Mustard duo since that Halloween they had matching costumes.

“Is she staying for dinner?”

Lemon turned around. “Are you staying for dinner?”

Priyanka shrugged. “Sure.”

“She is mom!”

“I’m making spaghetti!”

“Sound good!” She turned back to Priyanka again. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“You know I do.”

Just a couple of minutes later, they heard the sound of Mr. Baptista’s car at the entrance.

“That’s my dad.” Lemon pointed.

“Hello, I’m home.”

“Hi, dad! Priyanka’s here.”

“Hi Lemon drop, hi Priyanka!”

“Hello, Mr. Baptista!”

Lemon grinned but not even five minutes later than her father’s arrival, the vibe of the kitchen changed and it was clear by the sound of their voices, her parents were arguing. Another argument…

“I swear to God… this is the third time this week."

Lemon sat on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. She looked tired.

Priyanka gently touched her knee offering some comfort. Lemon pulled a weak smile that faded as soon as the voices increased in volume.

"Hey, I have some extra cash, wanna get some pizza?” Priyanka offered.

Lemon bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Lemon changed her shorts for pants and put on a pair of sneakers, then she grabbed her keys and both of them were out of the house. It wasn’t that late yet and there was a pizza place a few blocks away they could get on foot; they walked in silence until Lemon’s house was behind, then the blonde let a big sigh out of her chest.

“Pri, I can’t do this…” She sounded fragile as if she was holding the pieces together trying not to break with all her strengths.

Priyanka ran her arm over her shoulder and held her when she seemed about to fall.

“It’s okay, I’m sure they are going to work it out.”

Lemon snorted. “They started going to couple’s counseling and it got worse, they have pretty solid arguments to fight now.”

Priyanka covered her mouth holding back the laughter. “Sorry.”

“You dumb bitch.” Lemon shook her head.

They walked hugged like that the rest of the way, ate greasy pizza with extra cheese, and returned to a sepulchral silent house. Priyanka laid on the bed next to her, so close yet so far. If she extended her hand just a little more, she could touch her shoulder, make sure she was okay but for some reason, she couldn’t. Yet, she hoped that being there for her friend was enough then.

On the other side, Lemon had her eyes wide open, unable to drift off when her mind was going through a million different scenarios. Everything could only go downhill from there.

They didn’t know at that moment but the worst was yet to come.

She dashed out of the house as soon as she got the phone call, barely having the chance to put on a helmet before grabbing her bike. Priyanka was still catching her breath by the time Lemon opened the door.

Her face was bathed in tears, her eyes completely red and she couldn’t stop crying not even to explain what had happened. Priyanka had a vague idea judging by what was said on the phone but it wasn’t until she saw her friend she knew it was bad. Very bad.

Lemon wasn’t the most physically affectionate person in the world but she let Priyanka hug her and cried it out on her chest. They sat on the porch until the blonde began to calm down and could explain it better.

“Pri, they… they are getting divorced. It’s all happening so fast.”

Priyanka held her hand and squeezed it lightly. Lemon looked at her hand and then at her face, her eyes flooded with tears again.

“Hey,” The brunette tried to comfort her. “I’m so sorry, I know you love them both and they love you very much but this is probably for the best.”

“No, Pri, you don’t understand. They are… separating for real. They talked about lawyers and My mom she…” Lemon sobbed. “She wants us to move out…”

“Oh, I mean, that’s normal like-”

“…to New York.” Her voice was weak, defeated.

It took Priyanka a moment to process the newly acquired information.

“New York?!” She repeated in disbelief.

“Apparently, she has a job offer there, and… they think it’s for the best to put some distance between them.”

“I get the ‘moving out thing’ and the distance but that’s a completely different country!”

“I know! That’s what I said. Tell me I’m right, she’s out of her mind.”

“But wait, when does she want you to move out? What about school?”

“She thinks it’s a good idea if we go before the new semester starts so we can settle in and…”

“No, the new semester starts in two weeks… What about your dance lessons? Your life here?”

What about us?

“She said there are plenty of dance academies over there… That I would do fine. I hate it. This doesn’t go with the plan we had.”

Priyanka and Lemon had a life plan since they were ten, sealed with a pinky promise. They were going to graduate high school together and go to university in Toronto where they both would be roommates throughout college. It was their way of being together, to accomplish things in the company of the other, a sign of their unbreakable friendship.

“Wait but… what about your dad?” Can’t you stay with him?“ There was a hint of hope in Priyanka’s voice.

Lemon stared at the wooden floor of the porch for the longest time before looking back at her friend.

"I can’t. My dad travels a lot for business and while he’s going to remain here… my mom gave me no choice. They even said that it’s either New York or some boarding school in Quebec.”

Lemon surely had gone mad about it for her parents to threaten her like that, it didn’t sound like the Baptistas at all.

“This can’t be…” Priyanka shook her head. The tears felt warm on her cheeks.

“We’re leaving next week.”

“No…no, that’s… that’s too soon. You can’t leave… who’s going to help me buy a new outfit for the first day? Who’s going through the first day of school with me?”

“I hate to think about it. They really think this is for the best and then decide to drag me to a different country for the first year of school… «You have to be reasonable» they said, but they are the ones that come with these ideas out of blue.”

It was too sudden it made Priyanka felt dizzy; she couldn’t even begin to imagine what her friend was feeling like.

She squeezed her hand again. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that but-” Lemon shook her head.

“Because it is going to be okay. I promise you, we’ll still be together, and… maybe we don’t get to attend the same high-school but we can still go to college together, the plan can still work out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. You’re my best friend in the world; nothing is going to change that.”

Lemon smiled for the first time after getting the news of her parents’ divorce.

“Thanks, Pri.” She went for a hug and was received with open arms.

They hugged for a while without saying a single word, in that situation, words were unnecessary.

The day of Lemon’s moving, ironically the sun was shining and Priyanka kept reminding herself that in different circumstances they’d be at the park with their bikes or at the local pool but no, she was heading to her best friend’s house to say the last goodbye.

Priyanka hadn’t cried in front of her since that day on the porch but she had cried a lot when no one was seeing her. She was sad, upset, and mad about the situation but she didn’t want Lemon to leave with a sad note. So she went ahead and planned a week dedicated to her best friend, to enjoy the things they loved the most.

They had made each other friendship bracelets with their names –Priyanka was red and orange and it had a little golden star hanging next to her name; Lemon’s was pink and yellow and a butterfly next to hers- they had movie nights and sleepovers, karaoke sessions and dancing marathons every day until that awful day arrived.

Priyanka rode her bike like she had done millions of times before. There was a «FOR SALE» sign hanging outside and she hated it with all her soul. There was a truck parked outside as well with many boxes stacked inside and some furniture pieces they were taking to New York. Lemon was sitting on the porch’s stairs with a backpack on, the scene was oddly familiar and for a second time stopped.

She didn’t notice Priyanka’s presence until the brunette touched her shoulder.

“You’re here.” She said and did her best to smile.

“Where else I’d be?”

Lemon stood on her feet and hugged her, Priyanka hugged her back.

“Promise me you’re going to wait for my calls every week… and that you’re not going to have another best friend… ever.” Lemon sobbed on her shoulder.

“I promise it.” Priyanka patted her back in a calming gesture.

“I’ll visit on holidays, my dad is probably going to get a shitty apartment but still, I’ll be here.”

“I know you will.”

Lemon let go of her embrace. “Thank you, Pri. You’re my best friend in the world.”

“I know, right?”

The blonde giggled. “You’re so stupid…”

“Luce, get in the car, it’s time to go.” Her mom called her as she carried one last box.

“I have to go now. I already said good-bye to my dad; he had a flight to catch early but… It feels so empty without him here.”

“Lemz, I’m sorry.” She hugged her one more time. It was quick but it lingered. “Take care and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do in New York.”

“That sets the bar very low, don’t you think?”

Priyanka laughed. “I’ll miss you like crazy.”

“Me too.”

Lemon’s mom waved in their direction, the car was already on and the truck was closed and packed.

“Well, I guess this is our goodbye for now.”

“Count the days because I’m going to be back in no time, okay?”

She nodded.

“Love you, Pri.”

“Love you too.”

And with that said, Lemon started walking toward the car. It was painful to watch her leave but Priyanka didn’t want to look away, she wanted to remember it all until they could meet again.

The car started moving but stopped abruptly as Lemon opened the door and ran back to where Priyanka was.

“Lemon, what…?”

“I almost forgot, I was supposed to give you this the first day of school but…” She was out of breath. Suddenly a brand new CD of Spiceworld was on Priyanka’s hands. “You were so sad when your sister broke the one you had worked so hard to buy and I thought…”

Priyanka was hugging her again. “Oh, Lemon…”

“Please don’t forget me.”

Her mom honked at them, the truck was already hitting the road.

Lemon walked back and this time, she left for real.

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Detention (Dark Rey x Reader High School AU)

Summary: A new girl arrives to make Reader's time in Highschool way more difficult.

Words: 2,693 (think this is the longest so far)

A/N: Alright some notes, this is based on my High School AU with Rey and things are pretty much the same except for Rey, we have a rather bad woman instead but Reader it's still a Solo. I wanted to write this for a while and well I finally finished it. Hope you like it, let me know what you think!

You were late for class. Again. Didn't hear the irritating beeping alarm and its constant try to tear your from your sleep. And your older brother wasn't kind enough to wake you up.

Running through the maze of halls you hoped to make it on time to the class before the teacher, you knew she wouldn't be happy to see you arriving late to her class once again.

Just when you reached the last turn to the classroom you collided with a body you weren't expecting that almost sent you directly to the floor.

"Shit, sorry." you said.

"Look where you're going, idiot!" a very angry voice said and you observed hypnotized the girl yelling at you.

Dark wavy hair falling over her delicate skin and hazel eyes gazing threatening at you while she kept telling you not to cross her way again. A mischievous grin curving her lips and the leather jacket only made her seem way more mysterious. You felt terribly attracted to this mean girl and yet you hated how rude she was over this little accident.

And as fast as you encountered her she was gone letting you alone in the desert hall.

Who was that girl?

The bell ringing reminded you how late for the morning lesson you were so you rushed the final steps to the classroom.

"Late again, Solo" were the teacher's first words when she saw you silently reaching your place, trying your best not to be noticed.

"Sorry, Miss Holdo" you said. Your friends, Poe and Finn laughed in silence and you glared at them for a moment.

“If you keep arriving this late I’m afraid I’d have to send you to detention” She said.

“Won’t happen again.” you assured her. With a smile she went back to her lesson, she knew you since you were a kid, she was a family friend and you assumed that was why she hadn’t send you to detention already.

“Where’s Rose?” you murmured looking at the empty spot next to you.

“Paige said she’s sick” Finn mumbled. 

“Finn, quiet” Miss Holdo said making your friend flinch for a moment. You smiled before really paying attention to today’s lesson.

Lost taking notes and scribbling stars in the little notebook you almost didn’t hear the knock in the door, ignored the sudden murmur between your classmates but you heard her.

"I was told this is was history class." you knew that voice and recognized her jaw, her slim figure.

Not you, you thought

"It is.” the teacher told her with a sympathetic smile “Principal mentioned a new student, what's your name?"

"Rey" she said. Oh, she even had a nice name, great.

"Welcome, Rey. Please, take a seat.”

She eyed the class carefully as if she was examining her new empire about to rise, then her golden eyes found yours and that malicious grin she had when you met her on the hall was back on her face.

Rey walked across the room with everybody watching her every move but she kept staring at you.

“Is this seat taken?” she said pointing at the chair where Rose usually sat, now only occupied by your bag.

“Well... yes“ you barely said when she pushed your things out of the chair.

“Not anymore” she said without giving an actual damn about the angry way you stared at her.

First the hallway, now this, oh this girl was really rude and you felt like you were really starting to hate her. Huffing you picked up your fallen bag, you were grateful most of the things stayed inside but there was a few things that landed very away from you to reach, nor Finn or Poe could, only her.

While the class kept its regular course you watched at the little notebook on the floor hoping to get it back as soon as the class was over but you weren’t the only one watching it, Rey followed your constant gazes and soon the little journal was on her power.

“What do we have here?” she said playing with it in her hands. “Seems like the little nerd has a journal.”

“Give it to me.” you murmured.

She gave you a short daring glance before she opened it and proceeded to pass some of the pages.

"Stop. Give it back!" You told her.

"Whatever" she said tossing it at you "nothing interesting anyways."

Just in that moment the bell rumbled through the air marking the end of the class.

"See you later, nerd" she said already on her way out of the place leaving you all pissed and unable to say a word.

"What was all that with the evil witch?" Poe asked in the hall, the small group walking to the next lesson.

"I don't know" you said still a bit confused "but I have a really bad feeling about her."

And you were right. Not only she proclaimed herself as the new baddie of the school that nobody would dare to even look at her the wrong way, she was even feared by you own brother who used to be the big bad guy always intimidating people. But she dedicated her time to make your life impossible, making jokes about you, pushing you in the corridor.

Often you found yourself cornered by her in the main hallways when nobody else was there to help you giving her whatever she would want, sometimes it was money and some days she had taken your homework to deliver (? It as hers. And as much as you wanted you couldn't do anything but stare at her, which only made the wicked smirk on her lips grow wider.

And the constant question in your head was why? What did you do to this girl to treat you this bad? But the months passed and the question was still unanswered.

Certain day you were just picking a few things from your locker while happily chatting with Rose, it was one of that lucky days the girl who was always pushing you around like if you were kindergartens was nowhere to be seen, you felt somehow relax when she was not near. But oh no, there she was, dressed in dark clothes as always, ready to make someone’s life miserable.

You caught her figure walking confident through the place and you prayed she would not noticed you and at first you thought so when she passed by your side as if you were no there.

Then Rose hitted the floor.

All the students in the corridor saw how Rey pushed your good friend making her stumble backwards, but nobody said a thing, nobody even dared to look at the scene for too long they all were used to that, all of them were afraid of Rey.

The evil lady kept walking as if nothing had happened but looking over her shoulder to dedicate you a satisfied grin.

“Rose, are you okay?” you offered a helping hand to your friend who took it glad you were there.

“Yeah, I’m fine” she murmured when she was back on her feet.

It had to stop. Rey made your days in school miserable but you never said nothing about it. She could insult you as much as she wanted, after all this time there were no more words she could use to make you feel bad, she could push you all she wanted but you wouldn’t allowed her to touch your friends.

“Hey!” you yelled and surprisingly she stopped, as well as all the people in the hall, curious to hear what you had to said to the one and only evil queen. “You owe her an apology.” you stared at her.

“Oh, I don’t think so, darling.” Rey said “The one that should be apologizing is her, for getting in my way.”

“Bullshit, Rey!” you scoffed “We all saw what happened.”

“Oh, somebody’s cranky.” she mocked as she walked in your direction, her steps echoing as she got closer, arms crossed.

“Somebody needs to shut up.” you raged which actually made her flinch for a matter of second and you saw the students around you trying hide the smiles forming on their faces.

“Y/N, forget it” Rose said grabbing your arm “It’s not worthy your time”

“It is, Rose” you assured her. Leaving her side you approached Rey more than you would usually do, you wanted to make sure she hear what you had to say. “I’ve had enough of your stupidity walking around the school as if you own it” you hissed “You can do whatever you want to me but I’m warning you, do not mess with my friends.” There was a strange mix of emotions on her face, not the confident smile on her lips, she looked rather confused, surprised.  “Now, Rey. Apologize”

“No.” she said. “Why you even defend her, Y/N. Is she your little girlfriend?”

“No, but what if she was?” you told her now getting closer to her. “What if, huh? would you have a problem with that too?” she gave no answer “Well at least I’d have a fantastic girl but you? No, you are going to end alone, because nobody wants an asshole like you and I assure you I wouldn’t date you even if you were the last person in the world. You don't deserve to be loved, Rey"

Rey's fist collided with the side of your face making you dizzy for a moment. There was a collective gasps.

"You really shouldn't have done that" you murmured before sending a punch to her face and it didn't take long for her to respond with a new punch.

Both blinded by the fury and lost in the fight didn't hear the people cheering around you.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The crowd screamed but you ignored them, the only thing you care about was dodge Rey's merciless hits. 

A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you from Rey's grasp, you heard Ben’s voice telling you to stop, only then you realized not only that at least half of the school was there watching the scene but you found Miss Holdo's disappointed face.

*****

"This behavior is absolutely unacceptable" Miss Holdo said way angrier than you had ever seen her. "Be thankful you're just getting a few days of detention. Do you realized you could have been expelled?"

Holdo's gaze travel from Rey to you and stayed gazing at you for a few seconds. 

"I have to talk with your parents. I want you two to think of your actions while I'm gone" the teacher said "Try not to kill each other while I'm not around." She added and before taking a last look at you she left you alone with Rey.

The first minutes you stayed in an awkward silence, watching at the clock hanging on the wall as it marked the slow pass of the time at the rhythm of the tick tock. It was going to be a really long detention.

The girl sitting a few feet away from you didn't make it any easier, the constant tapping of her pencil against the wood surface of the table was really stressing you out.

"Can you stop?" You finally broke the silence.

"Am I bothering the little princess?" She mocked.

"You're stressing the hell out of me" you told her.

"And what are you going to do? Punch me? Look where that took us." she said.

"You started it, Rey" giving her a cold stare you told her. Then both went silent again but the tapping didn't stop.

Unable to ignore the way she was drumming with the small pencil you stood up your seat.

"I said stop" you said taking away the pencil from her hand. Next moment Rey was also in her feet dangerously close to you as she used to do to intimidate you, but that power was not hers anymore.

"Careful, Solo" she murmured "You may have found some guts to speak up in front of people but right now it's just you and me alone and you don't know what I'm capable of" she glanced at you with fury on her hazel eyes. "So don't dare me."

She backed away and turned to her seat. She was right, there were just she and you in the detention room, no one else. It was time to get answers.

"Rey, why you treat me like this?" You asked.

"Because I hate you" she said carefree.

"But why? Since the first day we met you've been nothing but mean to me" you said "You didn't even know me and still you decided you hate me?"

"I hate losers and your the biggest one around here" Rey added.

"That doesn't makes sense" you took a step closer to her "I'm tired of just bear you pushing me and treating me like garbage"

"You are garbage, Y/N"

"See? this is what I mean" you said "You attack me again and again but why? Why me? What did I do to you to deserve being treated like this?"

"You wanna know? Fine" she said "but don't go crying with your brother after this."

"Go ahead" you murmured serious.

"You’re scum, Y/N.” she started “I know who you are, playing dumb all the time, being ‘dad and mommy’s perfect daughter’ but I think you’re quite the opposite, surrounded by a bunch of losers.”

“So you’re problem is that I have good friends? a family that cares for me?” you chuckled “I guess you don’t have that yourself and you’re just jealous that I have people who care for me.”

She stared at you with a killer gaze, that certainly made her angry and sure it was why she preferred to attack you when you were alone, so you would feel as alone and helpless as hers. But there was something else that she was still holding.

“What else, Rey?” you added “There’s something you’re not telling me, I know you just enough to know that.” 

You saw the big bad empress of the school doubting for a moment, almost fearing the words that were about to come out of her mouth.

"I hate the way you look at the other girls because I know you will never look at me the same way, the only times I get to be close to you you look at me with so much hate" Rey said a little too fast and too angry, frustration lying over her face while she was slowly getting closer to you "And I hate it that you're right, I don't deserve to be loved, but I hate it more that I fell for you anyways perfectly knowing I didn't have a chance to be with you"

There was a moment when the only thing you did was stare at each other, both of your not exactly knowing what to say, what to do.

Rey rushed in your direction “She’s gonna kick me again” you thought, bu she did something very different that you expected.

Carefully, Rey pulled you closer, crushing her lips against yours to lead a rough, desperate kiss. Her lips were surprisingly softer than you had expected, unexpectedly sweeter compared with the bittersweet words that often came from her mouth. You found yourself not pulling away immediately but rather intrigued by the way she kissed you, even enjoying it for a brief moment, forgetting whose lips were softly caressing yours. Until she pulled away.

Breathless, flushed and inches away from your face Rey examined your astonished features, her eyes scanning so desperately your face, wanting for a reaction maybe, waiting for a new fight maybe, but she only found you in conflict. 

“Fuck, I hate you!” she hissed. Rey rushed to grab her things and let the room as fast as she could, the slight pink adorning her face and you could swear you noticed a crystal tear running down her face though she was already far gone.

You sighed taking your place back on the seat, processing just how much of a crazy day it had been.

This was going to be one hell of a month.

Tagging: @1-800-depressedlesbian , @xgaygremlinx

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know)

[thekidultlife]

To Aru x SVT: Jihoon | Short Story #1

Author’s Notes: Hi this is Hyeri!! I’m trying something new with this series where there would be minimal romance and more on action, friendship and general world building! I wanna try practicing writing action packed scenes because I don’t think I’ve really ever focused on it before. Anyway, this story is of three parts, and based on the anime/light novel A Certain Magical Index and its spin-offs! I hope you like this one? I tried ;;w;;

Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader (if u squint)

Genre: Sci-fi, Action, Romance (if u squint)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: N/A

JIHOON’S PROFILE

A_Certain_Ordinary_Day

 Seventh Mist Mall , School District 7, Academy City

11:32 AM

 “This is Judgement! Surrender now before—“

—!!

On a rather monotonous and boring day in Academy City, a large explosion shook an entire mall. 

“This is Y/N from the 166th Branch Division.Yanagi can you hear me?!”

Billows of smoke filled the entire seventh floor of the building, as shards of glass were scattered everywhere. Seventh Mist which was supposedly a popular meeting place for students with schools inside the district was in disarray, yet it was difficult to ascertain the status of those inside the mall as dust and debris covered everything like a thick blanket. 

“Goddamn it, they’re not responding. We need ground crew in there immediately!” 

Your heart was racing, but this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. As the chief officer of the 166th Branch Office of Judgement, which is a city-wide, student-run disciplinary committee, you were in charge of directing and planning what actions to take during emergencies like this, which isn’t really a rare circumstance, considering the fact that Academy City offers powerful abilities to hormonal teenagers. 

“I’ll send in a message, Chief,” a colleague of yours, a middle school student with telepathic abilities, offered through your earpiece.

“Alright. Tell them we need to evacuate those inside the mall,” you replied back, closing your laptop as you ran outside your apartment with plans to go near the area as much as possible. 

“To all Judgement members around the vicinity of Seventh Mist, please confirm your safety to your branch office immediately. If you are fit to perform emergency measures, please do so with caution. I repeat, to all Judgement members—“

You could also hear the message inside your head as you took off on your bicycle, tires screeching as you arrived at the 167th Branch Office, just a few meters away from the mall. You could smell the scent of burning and pulverized concrete as you waded through the streets, the surge of adrenaline keeping you alert.

“Chief of the 166th Branch Office, Y/N reporting!” you shouted as you entered their office. 

You could feel the tension in the air as three people busied themselves to and fro inside the room. Papers were scattered and phone calls were being made while some were in their laptops providing tactical support to the ground team.

“Oh god, thanks for running all the way here Y/N!” Their chief, a high school student stood up from his seat in a panic. 

“No problem,” you replied coolly, keeping your excitement at bay. “So, what’s the situation? Have you called Anti-Skill already?”

“We have. They’re helping as of the moment,” he replied as he sat back down on the chair in front of the computer. “So far the evacuation process is under control. A lot of injured but no one dead, fortunately.”

As you peered behind him, you could see numerous windows on the numerous screens before you. Some showed footage of surviving cameras, some contained information of all known people who entered the mall using facial recognition software and electronic data of those who had transactions in the mall at the time the explosion happened. 

“So, the explosion happened at half past eleven this morning,” he began explaining as he moved the cursor around the screen, looking for something. “We suspect that these three students are responsible for the explosion—Erizawa Rena, Nakamura Aoi and Ito Shizuka—all students from Kirigaoka.” 

As he brought a video footage on the forefront of the screen, you narrowed your eyes and watched closely. 

“There was a big fashion event being held on the seventh floor and they thought it’ll be a nice place to set off an explosion,” the chief narrated as it happened on the footage. “They themselves created it. One of them wrapped the whole floor with copious amounts of propane and the other girl seemed to have pyrokinetic abilities and ignited the place. A Judgement member spotted them but they were too late.”

You raised your brows at how fast Judgement processed the data. “What about the third girl though?”

“We have suspicions that she might be in charge of defending their group from the explosion,” he replied with a shrug. “Not that surprising considering they came from Kirigaoka.”

Kirigaoka Girls’ Academy. It was a prestigious school at the ranks of Nagatenjouki Academy and Tokiwadai Middle School, yet it was different than all of them because they only take students with rare and unusual abilities. What could’ve caused these three girls to bomb an entire mall?

“Chief! We found them!” 

Your thoughts were interrupted as someone in charge of tracking the culprits yelled from behind you. Immediately rushing to her side, you took a peak on the laptop screen and saw live footage from a street cam just a few blocks away from the mall. 

“Good work, Rika!” the chief of the 167th Branch smiled and then gave you a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your time to shine now, Y/N. Judgement is ready to mobilize.”

With a bright grin that was almost bordering maniacal, you sprinted to the four-monitored computer and then opened your own laptop. Cracking your fingers as the software booted up, you read all the details you needed to know about the location, the targets and the Judgement members at your disposal. 

“Alright, here we go,” you muttered on an earpiece which was connected with a cable to your laptop. 

“On your mark, Y/N!” 

A voice crackled on the ear piece, the rush of adrenaline rising in your veins once again. Time to catch some bad girls.

“Teams A and B flank to the left; at 13th to 16th street. Team C and D, got to the other side. We’re going to surround them,” you ordered as your laptop began whirring. “I hope everyone has fireproof gear.”

You watched as points on the map on one of the monitors began to move into a pincher attack, all proceeding smoothly and swiftly. You then closed your eyes. 

12.56% chance of attacking Judgement head on. 32.06% chance of escaping underground. 65.77% chance of creating another explosion to scatter our forces and escape.

Your ability on simple terms was called Precognition. It allows you to see fifteen minutes into the future, but it was far from the likes of spiritual practices like divination and horoscope. You would calculate probabilities of how the future would unfold and categorize them into percentages, much like the chances of drawing a yellow marble in a mix of seven different colors. After calculating those probabilities, you choose one which has the highest chance of happening and then exercise appropriate action. It was much more complicated than that of course, which is why you would often borrow the computing power of your laptop so your brain wouldn’t overload. 

“Electromasters, I want you to disperse the gas molecules as much as you can,” you said through the earpiece. “They’re gonna burn up the place so anyone who can control air particles and so on would be a great help.”

—!!

A powerful shock sent static to your earpiece. You inhaled sharply. 

They’re already starting? This is definitely a diversion. I was right.

“You guys okay?” you asked, worry in your voice as your brain processed their next steps. 

“We’re fine, Y/N. Good thing you warned us about the explosion,” the team head answered. “But at this rate, we couldn’t get close to them at all.”

You clicked your tongue. They were right. 

The fires keep anyone out of close contact with them. You’d guessed they wouldn’t have any combative ability, just a lot of cleverness.

“Alright. For now, continue chasing after them and stop them from creating more explosions,” you instructed them and then turned to the chief of the 167th branch. “I need you to get someone.”

*

It was almost lunchtime. 

Lee Jihoon stepped out of Nagatenjouki Academy with an aloof disposition. Today was another boring day in class and he just wished he could stay in his apartment and write songs all day. Maybe he should get a proxy too, like that other Level 5.

With his headset on, he blocked the incoming noise from the outside world with loud music. He hated it when he could hear things he shouldn’t be hearing; like his apartment neighbors at night. But then again, it was useful. He just needed to control it.

His life since being sent by his aspiring parents to Academy City aftet he just graduated from kindergarten was rather eventful. Maybe it came with the title of Level 5, maybe it was something about his overall luck, but there were just a lot of things going around in this city which many people wouldn’t really notice; things just hiding in plain sight. 

~!!

Jihoon’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing—rather, it was the tingly feeling of sound waves moving against his skin as it vibrated into frequencies he can detect despite the noise cancelling headset. Removing the headset on his ears, Jihoon answered with an irate tone. 

“What is it?”

“It’s Judgement. Y/N is calling for you.”

*

“He says he’s coming.”

You could hear the chief of the 167th Branch call out to you as you continued to maneuver Judgement’s forces to stall the three girls. It has been a few minutes. 

“Make sure he’s coming in quick because most of my calculations are reading huge possibilities of escape, and they’re already tired with all this running around,” you replied back before checking the camera feed of where Lee Jihoon was. 

It should be noted that you didn’t meet him in any kind of Judgement operation or some kind of battlefield. Lee Jihoon was a classmate of yours in Nagatenjouki, and you were the kind and responsible Class President who would go out of your way to deliver class notes to him if he often inclines himself to skip class during afternoon periods, which was a lot of accumulated debt for Lee Jihoon. 

“Alright guys. Just a few more minutes. I sent for some help and—“

“Hi, Class Pres. Heard you need me?”

The person you were talking to didn’t even have the chance to reply or for you to even finish your instructions at all before a familiar voice spoke through the earpiece; probably snatched from the previous owner.

“Hi, Jihoon. That was fast,” you replied back. 

“If you have a bicycle, an esper ability and loads of boredom, nothing is impossible,” Jihoon replied with a truly jaded tone. “So, what do I do?”

*

Jihoon stepped in the middle of a wide road. 

People were already evacuated as per your instructions, and any kind of traffic was diverted away from the area. It was too dangerous.

The plan was already in execution but his role will be coming in much later. So with an eager look, Jihoon just stood there with hands in his pockets, waiting. He could hear the rumbling noise in front of him even though he couldn’t see it. It was probably a few kilometers away. 

“Judgement will be chasing the targets to your position and until they come, stay put and don’t do anything funny.”

He remembers you reminding him sternly of his job and he might’ve replied unenthusiastically to you, but truly, he was brimming with excitement. As the rumbling of explosions and the whistling of wind coming from the firestorms grew louder, the wider his smile becomes. 

“Once the targets come within fifteen meters of Lee Jihoon, get away as quickly and as much as possible.”

Jihoon hears you warn the Judgement units through their earpieces. Even at more than twenty meters, he could still hear you. That was probably a sign of his abilities growing, or maybe your voice was just distinctive that he could easily pick it up. Whatever. That was a question for another time. 

He could now see the three targets you were talking about—just three girls in their school uniform looking weary and exhausted. Just because you have powers doesn’t mean you could run around forever. It’s just a matter of using them effectively. 

Jihoon grinned and prepared himself. 

“Let’s turn this shit up.”

—!!!

A low and heavy vibration immediately fell around the area like waves of force that washed around every object in the vicinity. It was so strong that it seemed like the whole area was shaking continuously.

The targets were instantly on their knees, clutching their chests. 

“What…what is this….?” 

Low frequency noise—one could say that bass sounds, if loud enough can easily emit this kind of noise and cause nausea, heart palpitations and weakness to anyone susceptible to it. Yet with Jihoon’s sound wave manipulation, he can easily increase the intensity of this noise enough to incapacitate anyone within fifteen meters of him. 

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” 

Jihoon spoke as he walked towards the targets and looked down on them with a smile, as they gazed at him in horror. 

“Who—“

He smirked. 

“Time to go to jail, girls.”

*

“I didn’t know you were friends with Shockwave!” 

The chief of the 167th Branch exclaimed after confirming that Anti-Skill members had brought the three girls into custody. Though you were still curious why they did it.

“He’s a classmate. Nagatenjouki isn’t really short of Level 5s, you know,” you replied as you removed your earpiece with a sigh; your braincells tired of all that fuss. 

“That means you’ve seen the Number One Level 5 esper? I heard he goes to school there.”

“Nope. He has a proxy, which is totally unfair,” you replied with another sigh. “I wish I had a proxy to do my equations for me.”

“Same here, but like hell, seeing Level 5s in combat is just so cool! It's like you're watching a movie. He easily brought them to their knees in one move.”

“That’s true. They’re like superheroes—“

“Y/N, you there?”

Jihoon’s voice echoed from the doorway of the office and you instantly stood up and greeted him.

“Oh, I’m here! Good job out there, Jihoon!” you replied with a big smile. 

He only shrugged at your comment. “I do need some exercise from time to time. Sitting in a classroom isn’t really going to make my abilities improve.”

You laughed. “You’re right. Oh, by the way, how would you like to be compensated? I know last time you declined but this one was pretty tricky.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jihoon held up his hands. “You don’t have to and you do bring me notes from time to time, so there’s that and—“

His stomach growled. 

You glanced at him with a grin. “Well, at least your stomach is being honest.”

-Hyeri

TO ARU x SVT series

[chilly-me-softly]

Part two to the Ben meeting your daughter please xx❤️❤️

Part 1 (someone requests a part 3 I’m falling in love pleeeease)

“Ben, hey listen, I got a problem”

“Can I help?”

“I hope so. Emma’s father called me and he can’t pick her up from kindergarten today and I clearly can’t right now” you sigh as you look out the window of that waiting room. Working from home has its benefits but at least once a month you had to report to the big boss in person and always made sure to book the appointment when you didn’t have Emma. Usually these meetings last for hours, to make sure there are no problems and to evaluate the work of time just spent. But your ex called, he had a problem and can’t look after Emma that day. Which also meant picking her up from kindergarten now and even if you had left that building now you doubted that with the rush hour traffic you would have been able to get there on time. “Could you go pick her up?” you bite your lip expecting an answer, it was the first one that came to mind and you didn’t think twice about calling him because it was almost your turn. And Emma was gonna be out of there soon, so you had to move fast.

“Uh… yeah, yeah, I’m coming out of practice now. But call the school and make sure it’s not a problem” a thud comes to your ears, maybe the car door closing, and you smile because in all that mess you hadn’t thought about it.

“Thanks, I’ll make it up to you” he giggles before starting the car, “Make the call”

“Do you mind if we make a little stop?” Ben turns to look at his friend as he puts his cell phone in a space above the radio and he shrugs, stretching out to find a decent station in the meantime.

Ben had come back, he had come back to your house many times. Emma seemed to have got used to the boy’s presence, she had started asking him questions - the first time the little one had gone to him without being pushed by you, his heart had almost burst with joy. A simple ‘Ben, I’m thirsty’ as you were nowhere to be seen, but he had got up to get her water as if she had asked for the moon, his hands shaking and he almost dropped everything.

Things seemed to be going well between them, he had started calling her Twinkle after her teddy bear and the little girl didn’t seem to mind. He could swear her eyes shone a different light when he did it, but they were still far from being great friends.

They had never spent any time alone though, somehow you were always around to calm her down or knowing what to do and his love for you grew day by day as he saw how you handled everything to the best of your ability.

But now he was worried, he really hoped there wasn’t a problem with school or Emma. The only thing that really frightened him about children was when they cried, he was terrified of not being able to calm them down or not knowing what to do, and he didn’t want to pass for a parent who didn’t care about his child’s well-being. It was a big thing, he knew that you were cornered in such a short time but he also knew you trusted him otherwise you would surely have found another way.

“A school?” James was confused while Ben was unbuckling his belt. “I won’t be long” the fact that his friend was with him calmed him down a lot, in short between the two of them James was the easygoing one and he loves kids, and kids love him.

He already picked Emma up from school, you and Ben were planning a day at the park. But he’d stayed in the car waiting for you to pick her up from her class, now he’s already asked the first person in front of him and has no idea where he’s going.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Emma?” he sees the little girl scribbling something on a piece of paper and he sighs inside for getting into the right class, “The mother, (Y/N), must have called to say I was coming by” he must seem like a hopeless case because the teacher smiles at him exactly as she would at a child in her class as she calls the girl’s attention.

She looks at him confused when she sees him but smiles at him as she approaches him and wraps her tiny arms around his legs, damn that heart will explode out of his chest some day.

He lowers himself to her height and leaves a caress on her cheek, “So Twinkle, your daddy had an emergency so you’ll stay with me for a while. What do you say, are you in?” the little girl nods moving the two braids on either side of her head, a smile on the boy’s face as he tells her to get her things then.

And after making her put on her coat, the girl looks up at him reaching out her little hand and waiting for Ben to hold her in his. The little princesses’ backpack in one hand, the other wrapped around the little one’s and they can finally get out of that building.

When she sees they are approaching the car and sees another person inside it, here comes back the shy little Emma. Ben stops feeling the baby’s grip getting stronger and stronger, “Em do you mind if my friend James joins us today? He’s really good, I promise”

The little girl seems to think about it for a few minutes, looking at the car with serious eyes and he almost doesn’t burst out laughing at the situation. But then she nods hesitantly and he drops to her height again, “I know it’s difficult, but the unexpected happens sometime. And the two of us are going to have so so much fun” he presses his finger lightly on her cheek to make her smile and he succeeds, the little giggle that comes out of her lips gives him the urge to get up and take her in his arms. And the little girl does not withdraw, on the contrary she wraps her little arms around her neck and waits for him to take her to the car.

He places her on the seat carefully and puts the belt on her, then places the backpack next to her. He’s quick to get into his seat and turn towards her, “Are you all right?”

“Yes” she murmurs playing with her little hands and he smiles before turning to James.

“Nice braids” the boy smiles at the little one while Ben starts the engine and smiles seeing her cheeks turn red from the rearview mirror as she thanks him.

“Do you know what to do yet?”

“No” sighs Ben, “(Y/N) is working and hasn’t told me much else”

“Why don’t we go back to my place? Diego’s there, it might work”

He takes another look in the rearview mirror, “Twinkle do you like dogs?” at the affirmative nod of the little girl, he knows what to do.

‘Please tell me you didn’t buy her a dog’ you write after hours of silence. Emma, Ben and James had headed over to the latter’s house so, the little one always hid behind Ben’s figure. When they got inside, it hadn’t taken Diego long to run to his master and smell the new girl’s shoes.

“It’s small” she had commented when Ben had stopped to let her take off her coat and both boys had giggled.

“You can pet him if you want, it’s okay I promise” she looked Ben in the eye for a few seconds before squatting to pet the dog’s little head. She giggled at the sensation making a smile appear on Ben’s face and on James’s face enjoying the scene a few steps away. Ben had told him the whole situation, it was clear he loved the girl as much as his mother but he had no idea that he was at those levels. Now he wanted to meet you too, his friend had no excuse.

After a juice and a snack, they all moved into the living room where Diego had enjoyed the attention of the child. The two older ones had enjoyed the moment, joining in the cuddles or showing the little girl how to throw the ball and play with the little dog.

And it was at that moment that he took a picture of her to let you know that everything was going great. ‘It’s James’

‘Thank god. I could have left you for that’ a thoughtful emoticon at the end of the message that makes him giggle as he quickly writes his reply.

'Really…’

'A dog needs care. Anyway, I’ll be home by 7, I’ll get dinner’

'We’ll be home by then’ a little emoticon sending a kiss and a heart from you and the conversation’s over. Ben doesn’t have time to put the phone down that one hand rests on his knee, “Ben, tired”

“Ow sweetie” Ben picks her up as soon as her arms lift towards him and strokes her back when she snuggles up to him.

“Want me to take you upstairs? James has a nice comfortable bed if you want” but the baby squeezes closer to him and then Ben stays on the couch, rocking her as he can until he feels the grip on his shirt become less and less present.

“She’s a really lovely baby” James sighs as he looks at his friend, proud of him and what he’s doing. Raising a child is hard, especially when you don’t have a blood relation to it. And as hesitant as he was at first, he saw it now. He saw the relationship that he was trying to build with the kid and he almost didn’t believe everything he told him about her, she didn’t seem so shy around him or it showed that she was getting attached to him.

“I already love her James” he can hear the emotion in Ben’s voice as he lowers his gaze to the creature in his arms sleeping with her mouth open. “I’m scared most of the time, but I like it”

“You’re a great dad, Ben”

“For fuck’s sake Madders” Ben raises his head trying not to let down those tears that suddenly threaten to come down and James giggles. “For your good I’ll pretend I haven’t seen you… and heard you”

Ben’s car parks behind yours when you’ve just opened the front door, the baby greets you from the car and waits for Ben to unbuckle her seatbelt before running to you and greeting you. And then you go into the house, putting down the boxes with the dinner but you notice you don’t have the usual tornado around. You take a look at the door, and a smile comes across your face when you notice that Emma is waiting for Ben, who is getting her backpack, and takes his hand before going inside.

“Hey, you guys had fun I see”

“I don’t know, Twinkle, did you have fun?”

“Yesss” screams the little girl hopping around the place and making her hair move, free from her braids now. “Mom, can we get a dog?” you glance at Ben who’s laughing and you can calm the baby by sending her off to wash her hands.

“You’re so sexy in this outfit” Ben immediately takes advantage of it to wrap his arms around your waist and get close to you.

“Every time she asks me about the dog, it’s up to you to tell her no” you murmur, your forehead in contact with his and his eyes in yours.

“James is available at any time of the day” you laugh back, “but I’m serious, you’re really hot”

“Stay over tonight?” you bite your lip and he puts a thumb on it to remove it from your teeth.

“But she-”

“I know” one look and then his lips are finally on yours, another mark on your belt. One closer to building something even more serious and beautiful.

 Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

[dreamonminecraft]

oh yes, tell me more about this beautiful lesbian slowburn. I’m a sucker for a good love story

Okay so to start off, My sexuality fluctuates greatly throughout this story, but as of now I identify as a Bisexual lithsexual lesbian, which means that I am attracted to lots of people but lose attraction when the feelings are reciprocated, and I'll only date girls.

The story starts off August of 2018. I was starting 6th grade (middle school) and didn't really have any friends aside from a few people that I had last talked to in 3rd grade.

It's important to know that I'm a GT kid and so I almost always have the same group of about 20 kids. This started when I changed to an all GT class for 4th grade.

While it's nice to have a comfortable learning environment, it also means that there's no escape from any drama, and you get to pick friends from the very small pool of kids that you'll spend the rest of your education with.

This is a pretty long story as well and I'm not sure I'll be able to accurately retell many of the things because dates get mixed up and stuff. Anyway, I'm gonna try my best to explain but these are really only the things from my point of view and I don't remember a lot of the things. (This is also gonna be written like a fanfic because that's all I know how to write, I apologise)

So start of sixth grade, I don't really have any friends, I'm kind of this awkward nerd, there's 2 people in my class (we switch classes like normal middle school, but I'm with the GT kids for most of the day so that's what I'll refer to them as) that I've known for years, a few I've met before, but mostly new people.

I sit by some old friends from volleyball at lunch for the first few days but begin to feel unwelcome. One day I decide to sit by these two people that I know are in GT but haven't talked to before. I don't say anything, but I sit and they don't mind.

The next day we get new seats in English. I'm behind a boy named Owen, Inara, who is one of the girls I sat with at lunch, is to my right, and in front of her is a girl named Emilyse.

Inara and I hit it off immediately.

It's kind of crazy because we're both crazy anxious introverts, but we gel nicely. I'm a boyband-obsessed 11 year old and she's a mature and mysterious 11 year old.

She's a lefty. I'm a righty. The way we've been placed makes us bump arms everytime we try to write anything.

We have every class together. Somehow, we sit next to each other in every class as well, even in the ones where we didn't pick our seating chart.

It's September. I cry over boybands. She watches curiously.

For the next couple of months we casually talk. She spends every lunch period in the library. We text occasionally.

I have another friend who takes priority. His name is Logan. We got introduced by his friend Lennox when she asked for my phone number to give to him.

Lennox and I don't talk. Logan and I text nonstop for months. We discuss possibly dating in the future. I identify as bisexual and biromantic at this point.

I've been in this position before. Having mainly guy friends growing up puts me in a lot of awkward friendship/relationship situations. They always end the same.

I have an issue with dating in middle school. You're not dating if you don't go on dates, hold hands, kiss, or cuddle. But you can feel like you are.

In December Logan starts being mean. We start a game where we step on each other's shoes at lunch or in the hallway. It's fun.

Eventually, he recruits his friends to do it to me, too. It's a joke a first, but eventually there are 10 middle school boys chasing me and trying to hurt me.

I get kicked in the hallway and fall. Someone steps on my arm and people laugh. Logan watches. I tell Inara and she steps on his shoe for me.

Logan and I stop talking. Inara and I hang out more. By early January, Inara has stopped going to the library at lunch. We hang out with Emilyse in the field instead.

I text Logan one day in mid January and ask why we fell out. He says that I told someone that I was going to punch him in the face.

The person he said I told, only talked to me at the bus stop, and he didn't ride my bus. I had never said it in the first place, but his logic made it even more frustrating.

I tell him I got scared because I had a crush on him and didn't want to make things weird. It was a lie.

In February I came out to someone for the first time. They asked if I was bi and I said yes.

By March I had accepted that coming out didn't really make a difference. Inara and I hung out at school but not really anywhere else.

My birthday's in April. I invite her, Emilyse, and Rebekah. We paint rocks and draw on a table cloth. Emilyse feels distant.

Emilyse is homophobic. We find out in English one day. I don't remember how. Inara and I look at each other. We know we're both queer but haven't come out to each other.

I ask Emilyse if she would hate someone in GT for coming out. She says yes. Inara and I stop talking to her.

By May I've become obsessed with Marvel. Inara's interested in it and I decide to be, too. We talk about the movies. It gets awkward. She's not as interested when I get in on it.

By June we're best friends. We hang out fairly regularly, have all our classes together, and text all the time. Logan is forgotten.

School lets out at the start of June. We keep texting regularly. We make plans to see the new spiderman movie in early July with one of our other friends.

I have a complicated relationship with said friend. They're non-binary, although I didn't know it yet, and I've known them since Kindergarten. Inara met them in an advisory this year. I get jealous easily.

The day of the movie I shop at Kohl's. I buy the two of us matching shirts. We meet at the movie theater and it's awkward. I pay for popcorn and sneak in snacks that we share. Our friend's dad is there, but Inara and I don't have parents present.

We sit next to each other during the movie. At a certain scene, I start to get anxious. My stomach hurts and I can't breathe, I start to get sweaty.

I get up and rush out of the theater. I get to the women's bathroom and sit down on the floor of the very last stall. I'm panicing, dry heaving into the toilet, and trying not to cry. I try to text my mom that I'm having a panic attack but don't have reception.

I go back into the theater room after a few minutes. I'm still anxious, but better. Our friend is highly concerned, Inara just glances at me worriedly.

It's my first panic attack, and it sucked.

We leave awkwardly after it ends, trying to avoid the obvious elephant in the room. My mom is concerned when she picks me up. We don't talk about it. My dad and brother are watching it illegally when I get home.

We don't see each other until August of 2019, but continue to text through the rest of the summer.

When 7th grade starts, I'm still into Marvel. I've seen all the movies at this point, but there haven't been any new ones (even now) since FFH. Inara's interested, but not fully.

In late August/Early September we take BuzzFeed quizzes for fun and text each other the results. I take one about soulmates. I get her initials. I send her the link. She gets mine.

We take more and they all point to us being soulmates. We propose by sending pictures of rings over text. The wedding date is set for September 28th, 2019.

The time comes. It's Saturday and my brother has a double football game. We've planned to pick her up and take her there. It's a Christian league, so the games are at a church.

We go to the garden. There's a small white bench in some rocks, surrounded by flowers. We joke that we've had our ceremony. We wander around for a while longer.

My dad suggests that we go to the taco bell across the parking lot. We do. When we're done, we walk back to my house. Its not far, but we're alone. I carry her halfway back.

When we get to my house we pick things from my garden. We're barefoot and I'm wearing overalls. I joke that we're gonna get a farm one day when we're older.

She picks things while I stand back and watch. The sun hits her dyed-red hair just right. I vividly remember smiling at thinking "holy fuck she's pretty" you would think I'd put together my crush by then.

October rolls around and she cancels plans to go trick-or-treating with me. I'm upset but understand.

We "work" on a school project at her house. We don't actually get anything done before cuddling up on her bed and falling asleep to black panther.

In November, it's Emilyse's birthday party. We've gotten distant but still talk occasionally. Inara and I both go to the party.

We're watching Spiderman Far From Home because that's what Emilyse wanted. I've seen in twice, Ianra has too.

We're given candy and popcorn and then curl up on the couch. Inara and I sit next to each other.

(I forgot to mention this but at some point she stayed the night at my house. She slept on the floor in her swimming suit even though I asked if she wanted to sleep on the bed. Swimming was fun though. We also go to an arcade. We mini-golf and play laser tag. We also danced in the rain together at some point that day.)

Once we're no more than 15 minutes into the movie, I'm cuddled into her chest. It's important to mention that at this point I'm 5'6 and she's no more than 5'0.

We cuddle the entire movie. We share candy and pretend no one else is there. It feels great.

We don't talk about that night for months. Nobody brings it up. I come out to Rebekah around this time, saying no more than that I like girls. I still haven't told Inara.

By December, I've brought her to church a few times. I don't enjoy going to church, but my parents always encouraged it.

(I'd like to say at this point as well that I have been raised Christian and identify with the faith despite the fact that I despise Church and disagree with many of the common teachings. If I ever had to choose for some reason, my sexuality matters more to me than my religion. Regardless, I respect your beliefs if they differ from mine :) )

Inara's birthday is in mid December. Her party consists of us making gay jokes with our enby friend despite not being technically out to each other.

My church youth group plans ice skating. I invite her and she accepts. I'm worried about it. It's essentially a date. Neither of our parents will be there.

We carpool with the youth leaders, who are actually pretty cute for a hetero couple. Inara and I share awkward glances the whole time.

When we get there I learn that Inara took ice skating lessons as a child. She's much more confident than I am, but pretends she doesn't know what she's doing. I skate about once or twice a season, but also rollerblade.

There's a wet, sloped, melty part of the rink. I get nervous and grab her hand. She holds it until we're out of the melted ice.

Every lap around I grab her hand at that point. Eventually, we just keep holding hands for an entire lap.

By the end of the night, we've both fallen a few times but held hands the whole time. We drop her off and I say goodnight.

That night, I rant about the adventure to one of my (ex)friends, who excitedly listens to my talk about holding hands with a girl.

There's a GT Christmas party at Hannah's. Inara and I carpool there. It's an all together boring party with the exception of a few interesting truth-or-dare questions.

(side note, remember Owen? Well he's one of Inara and I's best friends and we were actually close enough that the three of us were basically cuddling on the couch during part of the party. Also the whole class knows about Inara and I's wedding and calls us wives.)

Paislie asks me if I wanted to "marry" Inara before we got "married". I mumble an answer that nobody hears. I don't repeat it. When it's time to leave, Inara and I have our legs intertwined on the couch. We don't mention that, either. We drop her off and I say goodnight.

January is good. There's a night, the 4th I believe, that we really connect. We officially come out to each other for the first time on that night, and it gets really real, really fast.

She says she's pan, I say I'm bi but confused.

In mid January she texts me that she's crying because one of her favorite YouTubers finally hit a million. She cries for hours but never tells me who. I pay it no mind.

A few days later, she mentions a YouTube channel called Unus Annus and tells me that it's super interesting. I text back but don't look it up.

A few more days pass and I'm randomly on the trending page for YouTube, which I never do. I see a video trending called "Mark and Ethan go casket shopping". The thumbnail is interesting enough that I check what the channel is. I notice it's the one Inara told me about.

I watch the video and subscribe within 5 minutes. I text Inara quotes from that video, Ethan Finally Becomes a Man, and the Lie Detector test videos, until she responds and is surprised that I found the channel.

I obsess quickly and depend on her to know the new video at 1pm everyday. She gets annoyed and we drift apart slowly.

In February things get rocky. We fight often. If I win a small argument she doesn't talk to me for hours. She gets pissed at refuses to tell me what the Unus Annus video is called if I ask too many times.

At some point I get fed up and confront her. I don't remember what about, but we stop talking all together.

Friends pick sides. I'm left alone. We don't talk for a month. She tells me that she pushed me away because she thought I'd react badly to her telling me she loves me.

I confess my crush. She tells me she feels the same.

We finally make up at about 8:30 on a Sunday night in March. It's not fixed but we plan to talk. And 9:00, the school district announces that it's shutting down until least after spring break.

We stopped trying to communicate, but eventually, slowly we started talking again. We text a few times a day now, mostly about UA and anxiety, the best combo.

We haven't seen each other since. We're probably going back to school in person in about a month, but I'm not sure. Nobody is.

I've called her my girlfriend on here before, simply because I don't know what we are. I joked the other day about how the youth leaders would react if I said I was texting my girlfriend.

Here's how that went:

So we're just jokingly married for now! It's a confusing pile of garbage but we both came out as lesbians the other day so that's a new development.

I don't know if any of that makes sense but I'll answer any questions anybody has :)