#like going on summer break in elementary school

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Everyone talks about how cool it is to get a serial commentor, but no one ever talks about how sad it is to lose them :(

[atypi-cals]

you know we hear a lot from the "high school was the worst time of my life. Im so glad im free and never have to go there again" crowd but where's the "fucckkkkk I miss going to high-school" crowd

[szczylpierdolony]

so many things about me could be explained by the fact that i didnt know people hung out with their school friends during summer/school breaks until i was 17

[vulpinesaint]

i'm so excited to go back to work actually. i can't wait to be with the kiddos again i miss them :)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny was annoyed. Who were these people? Vlad hadn't even been dead for a week before these people with cameras began stalking him. He could understand paparazzi in any other city. But this was Amity Park. Nothing ever happened here...except the ghosts but that wasn't too unusual compared to other places like Metropolis and Gotham.

Speaking of Gotham, most of these reporters seemed to be form there. What were people from New Jersey doing all the way in Illinois? And why were they crowded around his house? Why were they asking about Bruce Wayne? Did Vlad do something before his death that put him at odds with the Gotham Billionaire playboy?

Danny heard the security system shoot another one of the reporters and sighed before activating the Baba Yaga protocol. It was hilarious to see the looks on thier faces when the house grew legs and walked away.

Dannys parents had long since chased off any potential babysitters, so they just made an AI to babysit him when they were away. Said AI was taking care of him for the two weeks his parents were away and his older sister was at summer camp. Danny actually preferred this because the AI could cook way better than his mom and better at driving than his dad.

With everyone gone and the AI hacked by him and his elementary school on summer break, this seemed like the perfect time to go to this Bruce guy and ask him whats going on.

Aka one of the bats has a kid out there and the press learns about it before the bats do. Danny is an overconfident little kid who feels untouchable in his parents mad science house.

Is Danny still Phantom in this au? Who's son is he? Was vlad still obsessed with him and maddie and made him his heir? So many questions. You decide.

[celestie0]

childhood friends to lovers with gojo.

warnings/tags. fluff & angst, sad ending

you two were five when he kisses ur cheek on the playground underneath the slide n you both thought that counted as a first kiss. u two were attached by the hip all throughout elementary school, i mean srs, your parents would even have joint parent teacher conferences bc there was just nothing the two of you wouldn't do together.

and then middle school came around, you joined the marching band n he joined the football team. he starts acting different around you, and it hurts. bc you two were best friends. you were always supposed to be best friends. he starts hanging out w the popular kids, and you find yourself walking home alone. summer before high school, he wants to hang out again, but you tell him you deserve better than that. and you two drift apart.

it's hard starting high school without him, watching him from afar during lunch in the cafeteria. he's with his table of phonies, acting like someone he's not, and you know because you've always known him. better than anyone else. you really wanna join the cheer team, since you've done gymnastics for a long time, but you've always been too afraid to tryout for the team. this time, you do, and you get in. now all of a sudden he wants to talk to you again, now that you're popular in high school and have earned a place on the field during his games. fuck that, you say to him, you threw away what we had just because i wasn't good enough for you to have by your side. you start dating his teammate, you two are nominated for prom queen & king, and he has to watch as you kiss someone else on stage when you win. someone that should've been him. he starts dating the cheer captain, just to show it off when he comes running to her after a winning game, kissing her right in front of you but he's not looking at her, he's looking at you. to make sure you're watching. and you do the same thing to him. and the whole time you two are wondering what are we doing to one another?

summer after high school, he shows up to your doorstep one day on his skateboard. with a box full of all the letters you used to send him as a kid. you still have yours too, somewhere tucked underneath your bed. you spend the whole afternoon laughing with him as you read through them all, laying on the carpet of your living room, and you both feel like kids again. he hovers over you when he kisses you, but you're still mad at him, and to show him how mad you are, you kiss him back. it's no use, you two are going to different colleges, you'll hardly see him, but he swears he'll call. he swears he'll fly to see you. he swears he'll never makes the same mistakes again, because he wants you. and only you. you kiss his cheek, and say okay.

and he does. he does everything he promises you. but the distance is too hard, and he was a little too late. you break up with him over a twenty-one character text sent while you're drunk at a house party your second semester at university, and he just doesn't understand. he'll never understand. and he never sees you again.

until you're both thirty-two, standing in line at the grocery store. he taps your shoulder, you turn around, you wonder if it's a stranger who wants a favor, and you realize he's so much more than that. he's the little boy that kissed your cheek underneath the slide when you were five. your first kiss. except it wasn't, was it? his face is long, and his cheeks have lost plush, but he looks so handsome it makes your heart skip a beat. you two are pleasant, exchanging it's been so long! and you look great! but when his eyes catch the twinkle of the wedding ring on your finger, his smile drops ever so slightly, and when he scratches his cheek to hide the sadness, you notice a band on his finger too. and he pays for your groceries, just to be kind. and you thank him for it, just to be kind. and you go your separate ways, never to speak again. but there's a box that still sits somewhere in your closet. and a similar one still sits in his too.

[coeurify]

THE PERFECT PAIR;

ELLIE WILLIAMS

·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."

pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. part 2 here warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k

There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?

You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.

“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.

“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”

“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”

“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.

“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.

Was it a little true? Maybe.

It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.

Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.

A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.

Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.

But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.

So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”

Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”

The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.

“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.

Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.

You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.

“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”

“Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.

“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.

“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.

“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.

“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”

You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”

“I don't want to, dude.”

The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.

When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.

“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.

“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”

The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.

“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”

Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”

Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.

You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.

“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”

You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”

Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”

Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”

Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.

The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.

“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”

Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”

“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.

“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.

“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”

Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”

The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”

Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.

The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.

Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.

“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.

“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”

Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”

The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”

Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”

“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”

The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”

A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.

els

she axe murder u?

You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.

you

why? worried abt me? 🤨

els

just wanted to see u say i was right

you

k🖕🖕

The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.

“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.

When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.

els

come over and watch smthn?

els

i got ur fave snack from the caf

You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.

“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”

You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.

“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.

“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.

els

???

You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”

Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.

None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.

You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.

Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.

Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.

Especially when you stopped answering her texts.

She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.

Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.

Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.

So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.

In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.

But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’

But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.

Yea, that’s all it was.

So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.

Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.

She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.

series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu

[takamiwife]

more hawks x elementary teacher?

maybe like.. pre-relationship where he sees the reader with the kids and it pushes him to support the class for the kids and to get closer to you?

your wish is my command 🧞‍♀️✨ this one is in more fanfic-format. i hope this lives up to what you hoped!! if you want, i can totally write more hc’s for it. i just had a fic in mind for this particular request

part two of keigo x elementary teacher y/n <3

(also, part two of first time w keigo coming soon! but i saw this in my inbox and didn’t want to forget about it <3)

keigo never believed in that “love at first sight” bullshit. really, he didn’t believe in love in general. at this point, he had accepted that he was destined to live alone, for better or for worse

on his short break, as he drank his ice cold canned coffee while perched on a rooftop, his eyes drifted to the elementary school across the street

it was a beautiful, warm spring day, the cherry blossoms that lined the streets had just bloomed and it promised a beautiful summer to follow

just as he was about to look away, his eyes landed on a young woman standing on the blacktop, the wind causing her red floral skirt to ruffle and flitter, her top half clad in a white short sleeve shirt with a black corduroy vest over it. her hair sat perfectly, and as she looked at the kids on the playground and smiled, keigo suddenly wondered if he was having a heart attack

his face was flushed and his heart started beating out of his chest he could barely hear his own thoughts over the sound of the blood pumping

shit

shit

shit

she was gorgeous

and just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse for him, a girl fell on the blacktop, scraping her knee. as the girl began to cry, this angel of a woman who he cursed himself for not having the pleasure of laying his eyes on sooner instantly rushed over, sitting on her knees as she scooped the girl into her arms, comforting her and patting her hair

fuck, he had to meet her

would it be creepy to just.. fly over and say hi?

yes? no? maybe?

fuck, he couldn’t think straight, this was driving him insane

luckily for keigo, an answer from the gods was provided. he noticed a little boy began to climb a particularly high tree, reaching for a flower on a branch he could barely reach

as soon as his foot slipped, keigo was already rushing into action, catching the boy mid-air before a single tear could fall

“hey there, you alright buddy?” keigo asked with a charming smile

the young boy immediately nodded, smiling

“you’re the best hawks!” he grinned ear to ear as he brought the both of them to the ground

“sota!” the angel woman called, running over, a few other kids in tow. “what have i told you about climbing that tree? it’s dangerous!” she scolded the young boy, more out of fear than anger

“no, it’s okay miss l/n! mr. hawks was here to catch me!” he pointed to the man that stood behind him, all but dumbstruck at being able to see this woman up close

“well,” she rose up, smiling kindly at keigo (something that almost sent him into cardiac arrest, might i add) “that was very nice of mr. hawks, but he’s not always going to be there to save you, you have to be more careful. did you say thank you?”

keigo was able to snap out of it, keeping his cool demeanor

“ah, there’s no need to thank me,” keigo said nonchalantly. “just doin’ my job is all.”

oh god, he was cute up close

like, really cute

you couldn’t help but fix your hair in some way, clearing your throat

“and i believe this is what he was trying to grab for you.” keigo pulled out the small pink flower he had held behind his back; something he grabbed in a split second whilst grabbing the boy

you reached out, taking the flower from his gloved hand, the both of you leaving your hands out for just a little longer than you should

“well.. thank you, this was very sweet. but sota, you have to know better,” you picked the small boy up, holding him on your hip. “and hawks.. thank you, again. it would’ve been a lot of paperwork.” you joke, squeezing sota’s cheek, still holding the flower in your other hand

keigo, never having been in this situation before, rolled on his heels for a moment. though he didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to overstay his welcome either, but it’s not like he could just ask you out in front of all these kids-

“mr. hawks?” a girl tugged on his pants. “can you stay and play for a while?”

“yui,” you look down at the girl. “mr. hawks is a busy man, he can’t just-“

“of course i can!” he quickly replied, taking you a bit by surprise

“well.. alright, but don’t make him feel bad if he has to leave! he has lots of other kids to save from falling out of trees.” you joke, glancing at him

and believe me when i say that he played with those kids until they were absolutely tuckered out. like, walking back inside for nap time, they looked like zombies. but it’s not their fault they were going toe to toe with the fastest hero in japan. but despite his competitive nature, he let them win every single game

as your coworker filed them inside, you stood beside him, laughing softly

“thank you for playing with them, really. it meant a lot to them.”

“well, i couldn’t say no to those little faces. you’ve got some good kids. what’s your secret? most kids their age i see don’t listen to anyone.”

he looked at you as you tilted your head, thinking about it for a moment, biting your bottom lip in thought

“you have to listen to them first. they’re a lot smarter than we think, y’know? you have to give them as much care and understanding as you would an adult.”

as you explained, keigo began to wonder if this whole “love at first sight” thing really wasn’t a scam after all. well, okay, it wasn’t necessarily at “first sight” anymore, but he had known you for less than an hour, so it had to have counted

“yea, i understand,” keigo breathed out. “…the world needs more people like you.” truth be told, he wished that he had known you when you two were kids. you must have always been this kind.

“no, the world needs more people like you,” you corrected him. “not enough people are willing to just… let themselves be kids again and have fun for a while. i think there’d be a lot less problems in the world if that were true.”

before keigo could speak, he realized that his phone was buzzing in his pocket, and as he answered, he got an earful about how he didn’t answer his phone and missed someone getting robbed. he of course had to lie and say he was caught up with another problem, but he was needed back at the agency immediately. so you two bid goodbye, and you expected never to see him again

keigo, on the other hand, wouldn’t let that happen. part of him expected his feelings to be a fluke or to go away, but it was quite the opposite. they only grew stronger everyday. and so he kept coming back day after day, playing with the kids during recess, and while he did enjoy playing with them, he always looked forward to talking to you. it was his favorite part of the day, but it made him dread the weekends since he wouldn’t get to see you. as spring moved on, the two of you grew closer, just as keigo had done with your whole class

“look what mio made during art today,” you pull out a picture from your pocket, a crude crayon drawing of the two of you holding hands with a heart above your heads. “isn’t it adorable?”

you two couldn’t help but laugh, because honestly, it looked just like you guys.

“that’s so adorable.” keigo said as he took a picture on his phone. “i’ve never had fanart this flattering.”

“they ask about you everyday, to make sure you’re coming to recess,” you say as you fold the picture back up. “why do you care about them so much anyways?” as soon as the words come out of your mouth, you immediately backtrack. “shit, that came out so, so wrong,” you can’t help but laugh. “i didn’t mean it like that, just-“

“no, no, i completely get it,” keigo assures you. “truth be told, it’s just.. nice. i see things that most people wouldn’t be able to handle on the daily, and everyone’s always talking my ear off about how i should do something better or faster, so it’s just nice to get a break, see the world through a different lens,” the words caught in keigos throat, and as he debated if he should say it, they just spilled out. “and i like talking to you.”

“i like talking to you too, hawks.” you tried to keep your usual demeanor, but on the inside, you swore your brain and heart just simultaneously exploded. what, did you think this was some one sided thing? i hate to break this to you, but you had fallen for him just as hard as he did for you. admittedly you stepped up your outfit game, always making sure your hair was done in the morning now. you loved the way he was with the kids, but you loved the talks the two of you shared even more

keigo had been thinking about how he would ask you out for- well, since the day he first saw you, but he could never find the proper time or the courage to do it. yea, yea, make fun of him all you want. the man has no game with women, despite what every piece of media has you believe. but he couldn’t handle it anymore. gazing at you from across the playground, seeing you in every beautiful thing he found, thinking of you at night so he couldn’t fall asleep or thinking of you to fall asleep, it was driving him insane

at least if you rejected him now he could learn to get over it, one way or another

“could we… talk more over.. over dinner, or something? anything, anything at all.” he sputtered out. ouch, rough one buddy.

“hawks?” you asked, leaning toward him. “are you asking me on a date?” you tried to keep your smile at a normal level, but it was admittedly hard.

“yes, i am. if you’d like to, of course.”

“yes! yes, i-i would,” you let your excitement get the better of you for a moment as you tried to regain your composure. ah, nothing better than two idiots in love. “can i um- get your phone so i can-“

“phone.. phone! yes, phone, right, i have one of those,” he fished into his pocket, grabbing his phone to unlock it and hand it to you to put your number in. you handed it back to him, this time the both of you letting your hands linger longer than they should without worry. “well, i should get going. might be missing another robbery. i’ll call you- text you, i’ll text you, and we’ll um, we’ll figure something out, okay?”

“uh-huh..” you nodded, watching breathlessly as always as his wings spread and he gave them a few beats as he rose into the air. “see you soon, hawks.”

“see you soon, y/n.”

as you watched him fly away, you couldn’t help but have a good feeling about your upcoming date. it would be different than all of the others, you could feel it. but when you turned to go back into the school, you saw your entire class with their tiny faces pressed against the windows, assumingely having watched the entire exchange. even knowing that now it would be impossible to get them to nap or really do anything for the rest of the day, you couldn’t help but feel like you were on cloud nine

[idyllcy]

Thinking of childhood friend!Leon after wolfie's fic

childhood friend!Leon who grew up making dirt cakes in your backyard, muddied face matching yours when his aunt gasps in horror, wiping the mud on your faces with a frown as you both giggle

childhood friend!Leon who sticks around you in elementary school, punching a bully in the face in middle school, and sticking mostly to himself in high school outside of your immediate circle

childhood friend!Leon who has a copy of your housekey from your parents, coming over unannounced sometimes

childhood friend!Leon who does college apps with you, applying to all the colleges that you do to try and go with you — your mom says it's better for you to have someone you know in uni

childhood friend!Leon who almost marries one of his heartbreaks, well aware of all that's coming, abandoned engagement ring and letter unsurprising. Not to him. Not to you.

childhood friend!Leon who calls you, twenty-one and single, groaning into his phone about how he had fucked up. Too young for this, he cries. should've been honest with you. He mumbles.

childhood friend!Leon who shows up at your window drunk at 3am, deciding he should be honest for once.

"Hey."

"Hey." You open the window, raising a brow at Leon in the tree. "What are you doing here? You still have the housekey."

"Your parents would kill me if I broke in this late in the night." He mumbles.

"What brings you here?" You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, squishing your cheeks upwards as Leon mumbles.

"I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?"

"I." He pauses. "It's fine. I just. I missed you. Couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"Is that all?"

"Let's go out." He dangles his car keys in front of you, tempting you as you raise a brow.

"In my sleepwear?"

"I have a jacket in the car." He whispers. "Please?"

"And where would we go?"

"The park." He mumbles.

"My parents will hear your car."

"You're a legal adult."

"Their rules under their roof."

"Then we can walk."

"Not scared of getting mugged?"

"In the suburbs? With my gun?"

"Forgot about that."

"So?"

"Sure."

Leon helps you down the tree, catching you and handing his jacket to you, the two of you racing down the street in a fit of giggles as the nostalgia fills him. It's incredible, he finds. The two of you are seven again in summer, summer breeze pinching your cheeks as you both make it to the park. Leon's home with you again. Leon's home again.

You land in the grass, wet from the cold, and Leon stands over you, crouching as you raise a brow.

"What's wrong?"

"I missed this."

"I did too." You smile. "What did you want to say?"

"I'm not allowed to just call you out at 3am?"

"No. I know you knocked for a reason."

"And you answered."

"If not to you, then to who?"

Leon looks down at you, rolling into the grass next to you, sighing with his whole chest as he stares up at the stars.

"I really just missed you."

"It's about the break up, isn't it?"

Leon stares up at the sky, closing his eyes as he wonders how he should say it. He's already the asshole in two stories, he can't really do anything worse.

"You're not going to like hearing it."

You sit up, glancing down at him.

"I think I know what it is."

"I like you."

"I know."

"I was stupid."

"I know."

"I..." Leon goes quiet, closing his eyes as he groans. "I don't know why I did this." He's met with silence, opening his eyes to stare at you, heart breaking in his chest. "I'm so awful."

"You are." You offer him a pitiful smile. "You were awful for putting her through that."

He closes his eyes again. "She's not mad, though."

"The anger has long simmered down." You stare at the streetlight. "She knew. I knew. We all did."

"And no one said anything."

"What could you say?" You close your eyes. "You like me. We all knew that. What were we supposed to tell you?"

"I'm awful."

"And drunk." You finally notice the alcohol coming from him. "You have your shift at Raccoon tomorrow, no?"

"Just let me." He pauses, exhaling. "I need to start clean. You'll always be the love of my life, but I... I know you won't want me after all of that."

"I know." Your feelings don't matter. Leon needs to let go.

And in the morning, Leon leaves your place without another word, house key left on your desk, window open and car missing. You don't miss him anymore, occasionally meeting back with him when he visits his aunt, catching up over coffee, but history long in the past.

And somewhere in the past, had he been just a little quicker, you would have told him you liked him too.

[spooky-holtz]

Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

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

Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.  

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.  

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.  

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.  

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.  

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.  

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.  

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.  

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height. 

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.  

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor. 

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.  

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh. 

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.” 

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.  

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.  

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”  

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.  

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.” 

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.  

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.  

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.  

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.  

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.” 

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.  

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.  

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.  

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”  

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.  

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.  

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.  

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.  

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”  

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.  

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”  

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.  

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.  

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.” 

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.  

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.  

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.  

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.  

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.  

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.  

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.  

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.” 

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine. 

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.  

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.  

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.” 

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.  

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.” 

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.  

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”  

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.  

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.” 

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.  

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.  

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”  

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.  

[thewolvesofthenorth]

Prologue

Prologue to What Goes Around Comes Around

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: 800+ Summary: In the beginning... Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, mean!Cregan, enemies to lovers.

Next Chapter ⟹

To say you hated Cregan was an understatement. Hate was too kind of a word. You absolutely despised the man, detested his very existence on this planet. Some would go as far as to say that you wouldn’t bat an eye if he simply dropped dead. And you weren’t the only one to share that sentiment. Cregan could care less about you, and he had made it clear every day since you could remember.

Your families had been neighbors since childhood and your twin brother was Cregan’s best friend so the two were inseparable, which meant you were privy to Cregan’s presence all the time. To Cregan, you were Jace’s annoying younger sister, and he never failed to make your life hell at every opportunity.

Elementary school was filled with little things like pulling on your hair or sticking gum in it. Middle school was much of the same, only he’d taken to hiding your glasses whenever he could, and sometimes breaking them, which caused issues with your mother, but you never told her how your glasses kept breaking. For some twisted reason, you didn’t want Cregan to get in trouble for constantly breaking them, and you’d chalked it up to boys just being boys in middle school.

However, high school was a completely different story. In freshman year, you’d gotten braces, and Cregan made it his personal mission to make fun of your appearance every chance he got. It had become second nature for him to greet you with “brace face” or “nerd” whenever he saw you, and despite Jace’s efforts to have Cregan be nicer to you, they fell on deaf ears.

Sophomore year was when Cregan and Jace joined the football team, and you’d joined the mathletes, further solidifying your status as a nerd, and giving Cregan more reasons to make your life miserable. At the start of junior year, Cregan began dating Arra Norrey, the head cheerleader at school, and your life seemed to get worse from there, if that was even possible. As the head cheerleader and captain of the football team, Arra and Cregan were royalty, and whatever they said was law. You thought things couldn’t get any harder, but you were wrong.

Arra seemed to be jealous of you. Why? You didn’t know, but she always found a way to trip you in the hallways, and if she didn’t, then her lackeys would do it for her. Other times you’d be shoved against the lockers so hard that your head would spin. You had grown so used to being drenched in some kind of liquid on a daily basis that you had begun bringing a change of clothes with you. On more than one occasion, your backpack would disappear and would later be found covered in mud or some other substance, and sometimes your textbooks would have pages ripped out, making you have to buy a new one each time.

By senior year, you could count the number of friends you had on one hand. And by one hand, it was really just one finger. Jace. Cregan and Arra had spent the entirety of junior year and all summer alienating you from everyone. You were branded a pariah and those who associated with you in any way were dubbed “losers” or called “sad excuses for a human being for wanting to be your friend”. Other days you would hear words like “nobody likes you” or “you’re such a freak, no wonder you don’t have any friends.” The insults were not new to you, but that did not mean they hurt any less.

Throughout the year you’d managed to keep your head down enough that the torment had decreased, but only by the slightest bit. Arra’s insults lessened from a dozen a day to a mere half dozen, and Cregan’s antics with vandalizing your locker and belongings had surprisingly become less and less frequent. You had later learned from Jace that Cregan was focused on keeping his grades up and hopefully get a football scholarship. You were relieved at the news since you had also resolved to maintain your impeccable 4.0 GPA in hopes of securing a full ride yourself, particularly to King’s Landing University. It was the most prestigious school anyone could get into, and it was your dream to get into such an exclusive school and take part in their elite doctorate program.

You had hoped that by getting into KLU, that you’d be rid of Cregan and his endless torment and be able to move on with your life, but the universe had a sick sense of humor and would not grant you such a reprieve so easily.

Next Chapter ⟹

[youunravelme]

it's nice to have a friend

author's note: this is a little all over the place, but i saw a tiktok edit of seven by taylor swfit and then thought to myself, what if i ignore all my wips and wrote childhood friends to lovers with a hint of childhood trauma? and this was born. and if the timeline isn't perfect with reality, oh well. i'm but a human girl. also!! if you have ever experienced or currently experiencing abuse, please know that it was never your fault. you don't deserve to be treated that way.

pairing: mat barzal x reader

summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties

warnings: cursing (as always), mentions of parental abuse and alcholism, tumultuous childhood, drinking, mentions of sex

there was a saying that floated around in your elementary, middle, and high school days, surrounding you like a warm oversized cardigan.

wherever mat went, you were never too far behind.

the saying could also be flipped, the two of you stuck to each other like glue.

mat, despite not being one for fights, had a bad habit of running his mouth whenever you were concerned. in fourth grade, he used newly learned vocabulary words to berate a girl who made fun of your beat up shoes and nearly got detention for it.

and you had a nasty habit of squaring up with anyone who looked at mat wrong, even if they towered over you.

your friendship worked well because of it.

age eight

you could remember summer days swimming in the pool with mat and liana, laughing as you and mat teamed up against his little sister until his mother scolded the two of you when she started crying.

but there was always a darkness that sat in the corners of your memories like fingerprints that had damaged an old photograph.

you didn't have to try to remember your parents' screaming and yelling at each other, just like you didn't have to try to recall the smell of alcohol on your father's breath. it didn't take any effort to remember the way your hands shook when you locked your room at night and climbed out of a second story window to go to mat's.

you could feel the splinters digging into your fingertips as you climbed the trellis up to his window. you could still feel the way your stomach dropped when you slipped and fell halfway up in the pouring rain, nearly breaking your arm in the process. you could still hear nadia come out and usher you inside moments before mat's eight year old feet came pattering down the stairs.

he didn't even give you time to explain, he just wrapped you up in a hug.

it took you that long to understand it was never raining, it was just tears.

the next week, you found yourselves at the park laying on your backs in the grass.

"what would you do if a genie gave you one wish?" mat asked out of the blue.

the summer sun kept you warm as the breeze kept sweeping in and blowing strands of hair into your face.

"get far away from here."

"would you bring me?" mat asked.

you turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you." and you meant every word, spoke them with as much conviction as an eight year old could have.

mat reached out and squeezed your hand in his own.

"what would you wish for?"

he shrugged. "to be bigger."

you furrowed your brow. "why bigger?"

"so i could protect you better."

age nine

at nine, you and mat were playing cards in your room when the front door slammed. it was like you were on autopilot. of all the times that had happened, mat was never home with you. immediately, you were locking your door and shoving things in your backpack, pulling mat towards the window and climbing out as quickly as you could. the two of you ran to your bikes and biked all the way to an empty field where you collapsed in the tall grass and cried.

mat immediately brought you into his arms, hushing you and running his hand down your braids.

"what if--" he started stopped abruptly to clear his throat. "what if you stayed with me and liana and mom and dad? we could get bunk beds and a night light, if you want, and you wouldn't have to lock the door."

you just sobbed harder into his chest and shook your head.

it's not that simple, you wanted to tell him. but i wish it was.

age thirteen

you never moved in with mat, never got to get the bunk beds, but by middle school, your mom moved the two of you out of your old house. it was then that he started packing two lunches, one for you and another for himself.

things hadn't changed much since leaving your dad in that shitty house full of demons. you still spent most of your time at mat's house (your mom was working). still spent your saturdays going to his tournaments and games. you still cheered him on and let him cheat off your homework on sunday nights.

things shifted though, regardless if you wanted them to change or not. time, you found, never gave a shit about your opinion, thoughts, or desires.

because it felt like just yesterday, you were riding your bikes down the street, racing each other back home.

now, you were helping mat draft msn messages to a girl he had a crush on in your biology class. there was an uncomfortable sensation in your stomach that was comparable to the time you got food poisoning, but you couldn't place a reason for it.

you could paint the pink on his cheeks as the girl replied.

and you would've given anything to be the reason for it.

maybe it was silly, a small crush for the sheer convenience of it all. maybe it was the fact that he'd saved you so many times from the darkness that always seemed to follow you. maybe it was because he was a tether for you, pulling you back when you went too far in your head.

so when he laughed at something she said (which wasn't even really funny), you wanted to go back to the times the two of you would cloud gaze in the middle of the day just so you wouldn't have to be home.

age fifteen

you knew mat was a kind person, knew he was handsome and a good hockey player, that was never in question.

you just didn't realize other girls realized it too.

mat always walked in front of you in the hallways because he could make way through the crowds in ways you couldn't. (he grew like a weed over the summer and while you hated how you couldn't reach things when he held them above his head, you appreciated the way crowds moved out of the way for him).

you were used to him being in front, his grip light on your wrist as he tugged you behind him. you weren't used to walking behind his new girlfriend, chloe, who had the honor of walking beside him.

mat used to tell you how much it irritated him that people would take up so much space in the hallway and make it impossible to move around them.

but there you were, an awkward moving triangle of your best friend, his girlfriend, and you trailing pathetically behind.

chloe was cool. she never felt threatened by your friendship with mat, which might've hurt your feelings if you were delusional. you knew you had no chance with mat, so you'd take him in whatever form you could get him.

lately, that looked like spending time with liana in the stands at mat's tournaments. you would both do your homework before dissolving into gossip sessions while you braided her hair.

chloe even showed up for some games, smiling and cheering as he played. at one game, he scored and came up and tapped the glass in front of you, pointing at you and smiling.

they broke up two weeks later.

age sixteen

you openly cried when mat left for seattle. you were used to times when mat had hockey camps and would be gone for two weeks, a month at a time. but he would be gone indefinitely now.

and leading up to the day he was leaving, you thought it would be harder on you, considering mat hadn't shown anything but excitement. but when it came time for him to leave, he wouldn't let you go.

both of your moms had to pry you apart with promises that he would call and text as soon as he got to seattle.

and he did.

he hadn't even gotten into his new home when he was facetiming you.

you did your best to smile as he showed you around his new place, but your eyes were watering still. he was indefinitely two and a half hours away from you.

"you okay?" he asked when you stopped responding.

you gave him your best smile, but knew he wouldn't buy it. "just miss you is all."

he nodded, eyes going blank for a second before you saw water appear in them. mat wasn't as emotional as you were, and he for sure wasn't as teary eyed as he used to be when you still lived with your dad, but his eyes were watering all the same. "let's just treat it like summer camp," he said. "i'll be back before you know it, and if you need something, you can always call me."

you had no intentions of calling him with your problems, but then your dad showed up at your house screaming and beating the door and calling for your mother while she was at work. the doors were locked, he had no way in, and the police were on the way, but your hands were still shaking.

you couldn't run to his house to hug him anymore.

so you called him sobbing.

he picked up on the second ring.

he was lounging in bed, playing call of duty or something like it. "hey--" he cut himself off and paused his game, jumping out of bed. "what's wrong?"

"my dad," you sobbed.

mat was back in coquitlam in three hours, holding you tight to his chest and rocking you back and forth. you were openly weeping into his shirt, clinging to him. you weren't gonna let him go, and mat wasn't willing to give you up either.

you and your mom spent the night at the barzal's, with her taking the guest room while nadia brought a twin mattress into mat's room under the pretense that you would sleep on it.

you didn't.

everyone knew that you got into mat's queen sized bed and clung to him all night long.

just like everyone pretended that mat wouldn't have to leave in two days to go back to seattle.

just like you pretended like you wouldn't absolutely shatter on impact the second he left your sight.

age nineteen

when mat was drafted to the islanders, you stopped breathing. sure, it was dramatic, but you only moved into vancouver for school.

mat was moving across the fucking continent.

but he came back to seattle, and for a moment, the world was right again.

until he went to new york full time.

and the full weight of his absence hit you like a damn eighteen wheeler.

you'd watch him on the tv, when you used to watch him live in much smaller stands. you used to use puff paint to make t-shirts with his name on it, now they were selling his jersey in the arena he played in.

he didn't pick up the phone as much as he used to. he would respond to your texts days later until you stopped texting him altogether.

you should've seen it coming, especially when you saw him hanging out with instagram models and going out to bars. were you really expecting him to sit at home and wait for you to call him with a panic attack?

you had to get a grip.

so you did.

you threw yourself into your studies, pretending you didn't know his game schedule or stats. and when a cute boy named thomas came along and took interest, you allowed him to get to know you better.

you told him you grew up in coquitlam, that you were an only child, and your favorite school subject growing up was english.

(you never told him that your favorite color was the shade of mat's eyes, that you haven't spoken to your dad since the night your mom left him, or that every night, you fall asleep to career highlights of the best friend you haven't spoken to in months).

you learned he was a business major, something that should've been a red flag, but you were so focused on proving to yourself that you could be loved, that you overlooked it.

you went on dates, had sex, made plans for the future, met each other's families.

but he never met the barzals, despite the fact that you could drive to their house blindfolded.

no, they felt like a precious secret. the world could have number 13, they could have the calder memorial trophy winner, but you would not allow them to have the little sister whose hair you braided, the mother who brought you inside after you wrecked her trellis, the father who covered your scraped knees with bandaids and neosporin when your biological one was drunk at 2pm.

you might have lost mat to the awful curse called distance, but you would not lose his family.

you couldn't afford to lose them too.

now thomas, you lost a month after you turned twenty when you found him balls deep in your freshman roommate.

you went back to your apartment and cried, because it hurt, but mainly because you realized how alone you were. you had no one to call other than your mom or liana. but liana didn't even know about thomas, and your mom was dating a new guy now.

your thumb hovered over mat's contact for five minutes before you locked your phone and just went to bed.

age twenty-three

you were single for a whole year before you met dawson. his brown eyes and salt and pepper hair captivated you.

you were hooked, despite the seven year age gap.

he gave you the number to a good psychologist to help you work through your past and was willing to listen to you talk about it or sit in silence when your therapy session was emotionally exhausting.

he remembered your favorite flowers and brought a bouquet of them to your college graduation and kissed you in front of your mom and the barzals (minus mat, but that was a given at that point).

and on your twenty-third birthday, he proposed.

you said yes while actively trying to forget the dreams you and mat had when you were six.

you were building a fort in his bedroom with thumbtacks and blankets and sheets you'd stolen from around his house. when the project was complete, the two of you found yourselves laying in it, staring up at the blanket canopy shoddily held up by thumbtacks pushed into the wall.

"do you wanna get married?" mat had asked randomly.

"only if i get to marry you," you replied.

mat smiled a toothy grin, it was the only time you remembered him having imperfect teeth, given that he'd just lost his two front teeth. "i thought the same thing!"

and it was the most honest you had ever been. though, that wasn't a strange concept, most people were the most honest when they were either children or drunk. and considering you stayed far away from alcohol (guided by the anxiety in your stomach and the advice of your therapist), your childhood memories held the most truth.

despite not having seen him in years, you still thought of him often. you tried to see if you could remember the sound of his laugh without looking up an interview. you tried to recall the way his hair felt through your fingers.

but you couldn't.

it was crazy how much he meant to you as a child, how you still remembered the order in which he ate his breakfast, but you hadn't spoken to him in years.

you found yourself sobbing at the kitchen table one night as you poured over who to invite to the wedding. liana was a bridesmaid, mike and nadia had to be invited.

but what about mat?

you felt sick to your stomach at not inviting him. when you were in high school, when you'd gotten a grip on reality, you believed he'd walk you down the aisle in lieu of your piece of shit father.

but you hadn't spoken to him in so long.

though you couldn't imagine which would suck worse, not inviting him, or mat rejecting the invitation.

that was how dawson found you, sobbing over photos from your childhood that you wouldn't let him see. and when you tried to talk to him about it, he suggested talking to your therapist.

he broke off the engagement two weeks later. he said he didn't feel "the spark" anymore.

age twenty-four

you'd been out of college for two years now and all you had to show for it was debt and a stupid piece of paper. you were working in a coffee shop ten minutes from your mom's house and wishing you could've gotten out of coquitlam like mat did.

maybe this was your cursed existence, going to the grocery store wondering if you were going to ever run into your father again.

you'd just gotten off your shift at the coffee shop when you stopped by your local grocery store to pick some things up for dinner. it was supposed to be a normal day, but you turned the corner out of an aisle and damn near ran into someone.

"sorry, my bad--"

you looked up and suddenly the earth stopped in its rotation. you hadn't seen in him years but you'd know him blind.

his hands were around your elbows, keeping you upright. his touch almost burned you. it was an uncomfortable feeling, like putting on jeans you loved and realizing they don't fit anymore.

you pulled away, ducked your head, and started walking the opposite direction without another word.

but you should've known he would follow you, like a moth to a flame. or maybe that wasn't the right analogy, you were used to being the bug while mat was the light of your life.

but he followed you like there was a string attached to your wrists and he wasn't used to you pulling in an opposite direction.

he managed to catch up to you in the self care aisle right in front of the menstrual products. any other man you'd known would've shied away from standing in front of the tampons and pads as you deliberated which products to get, but mat's eyes wouldn't even leave your face.

you should've known he was going to come back eventually. you'd avoided seeing him in the offseason pretty well considering you were off doing internships and working out of town in the summer.

but now you were stuck in a dead end job with no passion for anything anymore, feeling more alone than you had ever felt before.

and because nature or god or the universe hated you, naturally, that was when mat showed back up.

when you had nothing to show for the years you didn't speak.

you could see the wheels turning in mat's head as he tried to think of something to say. it was an interesting turn of events that simultaneously sent an ache straight through your heart. when you were kids, he never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. now, he was deliberating.

"you wanna come over for dinner?" he asked. "mom's making tomato soup and grilled cheese."

you wished you could've denied him, it would've been smarter in the long run. mathew michael paul barzal could get you to do anything, and you hated that even after all those years, he still could.

you found yourself sitting at his old kitchen table surrounded by his family, dipping your grilled cheese into the soup like you were six years old again.

except the difference now was you were laughing with liana, sitting next to liana, instead of mat.

you'd occasionally meet his eyes from across the table, but it wasn't the same.

when you were kids, you sat next to each other at every opportunity. when you were kids, mat pretended to steal food off your plate. when you were kids, you knew everything about each other.

but you were adults now. and he was effectively a stranger you knew too much about.

after dinner, everyone scattered. you tried to leave, but mat caught up with you.

"what're you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"working," you replied.

he nodded and looked around. "can i see you?"

you wanted so badly to say no, that you were busy, but as much as you wanted to pretend that he didn't, mat knew you better than anyone else, even if he had been absent for five years.

you ended up going for a walk in the park the next day, deciding that getting dinner wasn't worth the headache of mat getting recognized.

his hands were shoved in his pockets with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. if you were brave enough to look over, you could still see his eyes taking glances at you.

"how's your mom?" mat asked, immediately jumping into topics you'd planned on ignoring.

you shrugged. "fine."

he nodded and scuffed his feet along the sidewalk. "how have you been?"

"fine." you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. you didn't mean to be cold, you meant it even less when you looked over and saw mat desperate for connection with you again.

in the end, you could never really deny him anything he wanted.

"life sucks right now," you admitted. "feel like i've wasted my life away here."

mat nodded along. "didn't you say your genie wish would be to leave?"

"i think my words were to 'get far away from here.'"

"you know," he started. "new york is far from here."

you couldn't help yourself. you looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "are you being serious?"

he nodded. "as a heart attack."

could this be the moment? the moment your life suddenly comes back into color? things haven't felt right since mat left for new york, and maybe moving, being with him all the time, would fix whatever existential crisis you were currently having.

the two of you were packing up your childhood room a month later .

you were on a flight to new york city two days after that.

mat was bouncing on his toes when he picked you up from the airport, having come home a few days early to get his apartment set up.

"you have to meet tito," he said as soon as the both of you got in his car. "you'll get along just fine. my childhood best friend meeting my other best friend? things couldn't be more perfect!"

you smiled though you felt like dying inside. no wonder you two lost touch, you were too ashamed to message him and he was too busy befriending his entire hockey team.

the apartment itself was large. larger than you could've ever afforded, even in coquitlam. mat brought your bags to your room and gently placed them on the floor.

"do you need any help unpacking?" he asked.

maybe a bitter part of you wanted to say no, but you'd waited for this moment for years. you nodded and mat's face lit up like a christmas tree.

while he was putting your clothes away in the dresser, he told you about his team, about his career, and all that you missed. he tried to ask about your life, but you kept up the story that nothing much had happened to you. and for the most part, you weren't lying.

you hadn't spoken to your dad, you hadn't dated anyone seriously in the last year (you conveniently left out the failed engagement. you just got into town, and couldn't afford a plane ticket to fly back to coquitlam just to bail mat out of jail).

but mat was more than content to listen to your work stories from when you were working at the coffee shop. he asked questions along the way, and momentarily, it felt like everything was headed back to normal.

you shooed him out of the room so you could shower. it was kinda incredible how a nice apartment meant that his shower was better than any other one you'd ever had growing up. when you stepped out into the nicely updated bathroom and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt, you felt the full weight of your insecurities hit you all at once.

your mat lived down the road from you. he had a twin bed until he was fifteen when his mom could no longer ignore the way his ankles hung off the end. he had posters of sidney crosby hanging up on the walls of his bedroom.

but this mat had expensive bathrooms and egyptian cotton sheets. you didn't get to see it yet, but you were willing to bet he had state of the art kitchen appliances that he didn't fully understand how to use outside of making eggs.

you were fully ready to walk into the living room, where you heard mat clicking through what must've been streaming services (because he could afford all of them), and tell him moving here was a mistake. too much had changed, he didn't know you anymore.

but you walked out and saw blankets and sheets strung up, pinned to the walls with pillows on the floor.

almost on cue, mat's head popped out from the makeshift fort, a bright smile on his face. "i don't have bunk beds, but i thought this would be a nice alternative."

you could've cried. you almost did.

but you sat down on a pillow and watched a movie with him instead.

two months later

mat had introduced you to anthony the second week you lived in new york. anders and matt you met the next week. the rest of the team you met over the course of the two months you'd lived with mat so far. they were all nice, and you could see why mat was so enthusiastic about his job, his passion for the sport aside.

you met his "not-girlfriend" as tito called her the day before. ashley was nice enough, but clearly not in the same tax bracket as you, who had recently gotten a job working at an indie bookstore while you worked on grad school applications.

you pretended to be too busy to notice the ache in your chest when he held her hand, remembering chloe and the nasty sensation internally of insecurity bubble up. you weren't dumb enough to not know you were jealous, insecurity was a closer friend than mat was, you'd known her longer.

and if comparison was a sport, you'd be making more money than he was at this rate.

because if it wasn't the way ashley laughed, it was her smile, or her stomach, or the gap between her thighs.

or the fact that mat looked at her with something more than a savior complex.

you stupidly agreed to go out to a bar with him, ashley, and a few islanders that night. it was dumb, you knew that going in, but you were finally with mat again, why wouldn't you spend every free moment with him?

it turned out to be a mistake.

you were left sipping a diet coke by your lonesome while he was dancing with ashley. you knew you shouldn't have done it, it was a bad idea, but you found yourself at the bar asking for a shot of literally anything the bartender would give you.

but anthony slid into the seat next to you a beat later and fixed you with a knowing look. "where's your diet coke?" he asked.

your mouth dried up when the shot was placed in front of you. your heart was pounding and for a moment, it felt like you could've thrown up.

when you didn't respond, anthony nodded and stood up. "wanna go take a breather?" and he sounded so genuine that your eyes immediately welled up with tears as you nodded.

the two of you walked outside and stood in the cool air, letting the wind hit your wet cheeks.

you looked out onto the street while anthony texted on his phone. "do you want to go home?" he asked as soon as he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket.

you shrugged. "i don't know what i want."

that was a lie. you wanted to go back to a time where mat was just your best friend, before he was number 13 for the islanders, before he won the calder memorial trophy. you wanted your best friend, the one who raced you down the neighborhood streets on bikes, who drove three hours to see you when you had a panic attack.

you wanted a childhood that wasn't tainted with the darkness of your father's mistakes. you wanted to be able to go into a room and not immediately check if you could lock the door. you wanted to be able to fall asleep in a dark room without being deathly afraid.

mat was outside a second later, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile. his gaze was fixed on you almost immediately, while he ignored the way ashley hung off of him. "what's wrong?" he asked. he even went as far as to pry ashley off of his body so he could frame your face in his large hands.

in the corner of you eye, you saw anthony usher ashley back inside while you and mat had a staring contest. "what happened?"

you shook your head and tried to speak, but more tears spilled out. mat nodded and pursed his lips before grabbing your hand and walking you home.

he didn't say anything else until the front door shut behind you. you had no intentions of staying in the common area, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry yourself to sleep out of shame and pity.

"what were you doing at the bar?" mat asked before you could go anywhere. "you still had diet coke in your glass."

your throat seized up at feeling caught, but you stood your ground.

"i didn't think you drank," he continued. "mainly because--"

"because my dad's an abusive alcholic? yeah, you don't need to tell me that, mat, i already know."

"so if you know that, why did tito see you order a shot from the bartender?"

you threw your hands up in the air and shrugged. "i don't know, mathew. why do you invite me to bars when you know i don't drink?" he didn't have an answer. "you don't get to shame me for considering having a drink when a bar is the only place i get to hang out with you during the season!"

"that's not--" but he cut himself off. "what're you talking about?"

"i hardly see you! why did i move across the continent if i have to go to a scary place just to spend time with you?"

"i--"

"i mean it's not fair, you left and now i have to pay the consequences of it--"

"i'm sorry, what?"

"you left--"

"i heard you. did you forget the part where you stopped contacting me?" you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from crying even more. "uh uh, don't do that. don't blame me without taking accountability for this friendship ending."

you blinked.

but mat wasn't done. "because i always called you back when i missed your calls. you were the one who stopped texting me."

"you were too busy!"

"i'm in the nhl! did you expect me to just be laying around my apartment all day? i have practices and meetings and games at weird times, but i always made sure to get back to you."

you said nothing, the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you kept them in. the verbal lashing from mat was enough, you didn't need to further embarrass yourself by crying too.

he kept going, yelling and waving his hands around, occasionally pacing and dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.

but you zoned out.

you could hear glass bottles rattling as your father came up the stairs. you sat on your bed, hoping to god he'd just keep walking. mat was out of town for a tournament, and you were grounded.

your dad stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at you. your heart was racing in your chest and you wanted nothing more than to text mat, but your mom had your phone. "what're you lookin' at?" he slurred.

it was only 1pm.

and your mom was still at work.

but he apparently didn't feel like bothering you because he turned into his bedroom and shut the door.

you could feel the air release from your lungs before you went back to reading your book.

but the peace never lasted long. thirty minutes later you could hear him yelling and screaming obscenities before he opened his door. you launched yourself out of bed and slammed your own door shut, quickly locking it with an efficiency you'd learned at a young age. the door handle rattled and you flinched backwards, nearly tripping over clothes on the floor.

but you weren't a stranger to this situation.

you opened the window and climbed out.

but he was ready for you this time because he was at the front door screaming at you as you rode away on your bike.

you didn't stop pedaling until you got to the park where you collapsed on the grass and cried.

something in your face must've changed, because mat stopped yelling and looked at you, really looked at you.

"hey," he said, voice much quieter than before. "where'd you go?"

you shook your head, tears falling down your face uncontrollably.

"don't do that," he said. "don't shut me out." mat took a step closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards. he breathed your name, but something in his eyes shifted, like he could read your mind. "i'm not him," he whispered. "i'm not your dad, i'm not going to hurt you. you know me, you know i wouldn't do that."

"you left," was all you could say.

mat nodded. "i did, but i didn't leave you, okay? i would never leave you." he closed the distance between you and held your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the constant flow of water from the corners of your eyes.

"but--"

he shook his head. "no, you mean too much to me to leave you, okay? you're my best friend. if you had called me and needed me? i would've been there as soon as i could."

"you would've been too busy--"

he pulled back, a bit bewildered. "when have i ever been too busy for you?"

you held your tongue, knowing that it wasn't him per se.

"what is it?" he asked, his eyes searching your own. "what aren't you telling me?"

so you told him about how you hadn't talked to your dad, and even though you were thousands of miles away, you were still scared he'd find you and ruin your life even more. you told him about thomas, about how you thought he could be the thing that fixed you, but he cheated on you.

you told him about dawson, who was older and more mature. you told mat how dawson got you going to therapy which you thought was a good sign, until you realized he never actually wanted to talk about your bad days. he proposed, you said yes, and then he broke off the engagement when he saw you sobbing over invitations.

your eyes were too blurry to see the way mat's jaw clenched, but you could feel him pull his hands away.before you could even stop yourself, you stretched out for him, but he was just out of reach.

"mat, what," you weeped. "what's wrong?"

"you were engaged?" he mumbled. "you were engaged and didn't tell me?" you expected him to look mad, but the only thing reflected in those deep brown eyes was hurt.

"that's why he broke up with me, i was crying over childhood photos while trying to figure out if i should invite you even when we hadn't talked in years." you shrugged pathetically and gave mat a watery smile. "guess he thought it was too immature of me."

mat's hands were clenching and unclenching by his side, like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them.

"please don't hate me," you whispered. "i don't think i could handle it if you hated me." but he didn't say anything, mat just resulted to pacing the living room. "i think my dad fucked me up beyond repair." your eyes never left his profile. if he wouldn't look at you, that was fine, you'd continue to stare at him. "i think i'm too codependent and messed up for anyone to love me." mat's head snapped up at that comment.

"i mean," you continued. "i wasn't enough for my dad to get sober, i wasn't enough to not get cheated on, i wasn't enough for someone to marry me. maybe it's not them. maybe i'm the issue."

"no," he said immediately, shaking his head in the process, crossing the room until he could pull you into his chest. "no. that's not true."

"yes it is! my dad doesn't love anything more than alcohol--"

mat cut you off. "anyone would've been proud to have you as a daughter."

"thomas wanted my freshman roommate--"

"thomas was an idiot."

"dawson couldn't handle me when i wasn't happy--"

"fuck him too. he was thirty dating a college student."

"and you left and i--"

mat pulled you back far enough to look you in the face. "and if i could do it all over again, i'd take you with me." he pressed his forehead against yours. "here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna make a fort and watch the mighty ducks. and tomorrow, we're gonna find you the best therapist money can buy and set up an appointment because i don't like you talking about yourself this way." your stomach twisted at the idea of therapy, hesitant because of dawson-- "and i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me, okay?"

you nodded.

"now, i need to see you smile so i know we'll be alright." you gave him a watery smile right before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "there she is."

you held onto each other for another minute before reluctantly letting go to gather blankets and pillows.

four months later

you hadn't been able to make it to many of mat's games until tonight when they played the devils at home. you sat with sydney and grace and their kids.

earlier that night, you'd gone to your therapy session and cried your eyes out. after years of feeling like you weren't a human being worthy of love, you just started seeing value in just existing.

and mat was as supportive as ever. he gave you space after therapy sessions to process until you were ready to talk to him, if you wanted to. the two of you made plans to hang out at cafes and central park rather than at bars every weekend.

"look at your man go," grace nudged you with her elbow. "he's feeling good tonight."

"i'm sure it has everything to do with you being here," sydney commented. "i've never seen that man more in love than he is right now."

you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you shook your head. "he's my best friend."

"a best friend who loves you so much, he's willing to keep things platonic for your sake."

almost immediately, an insecure thought popped in your head, but you stopped it in its tracks, imagining the thought on a conveyor belt, moving down the belt until it was out of sight completely.

your shoulders relaxed.

you deserved to be loved, and it if was mat, great.

if not, you'd still have him as your best friend.

a buzzer sounded through the arena and a quick glance at the ice told you all you needed to know. mat was skating into a cluster of his teammates, smiling wide before pointing up at where he knew you were sitting.

grace and sydney jostled you around a little while fans, male and female alike, screamed at the idea of the mat barzal pointing at them.

when the game ended (5-4 with the islanders win), you followed sydney and grace down to the locker rooms. you met up with the other wags and smiled when they greeted you. some chatted and passed time while others rocked babies in their arms. you however were anxiously looking through your photos on your phone, specifically the album labeled mat that you'd had since you'd first gotten an iphone. you didn't glance up until you hear the sound of doors opening.

mat was the seventh person out, not that you were counting. he wore a bright smile when he saw you standing there and immediately crossed the distance between the two of you to wrap you in a huge hug.

"how was therapy?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "why do we always talk about me?"

"because i care." he lightly nudged your shoulder. "so how did it go?"

"it was good, actually," you remarked. "figured out and accepted that i deserve love."

if it was even possible, mat's smile got wider. "yeah you do."

"and maybe there are people waiting around for me to figure it out..." you trailed off before shyly meeting his gaze. and before you could stop yourself, before you ran out of courage, you stood on your tiptoes (like you've been doing since he hit his growth spurt in seventh grade) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

you lingered for a moment before pulling away and loooking up at your bewildered best friend whose mouth was wide open.

"what?" you asked. "did i read that wrong? sydney and grace said--"

"that's all i get?" he asked. "i've waited for this since i was six years old and i don't even get the real thing?"

you furrowed your brow. "what're you talking about? six years old?"

but mat was leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. "six year old mat had the biggest crush on six year old you," he said.

"and what about twenty-four year old mat?"

he kissed you again. "head over heels for you."

age twenty-six

after a less than stellar playoff run, you and mat headed back to canada for a portion of the off season, mainly to visit family.

but it was also nice to get out of new york, even if it was just for a short period.

in hindsight, you should've known something was going to happen. your mother, nadia, and liana took you to get your nails done and to grab lunch while you were out shopping. but you were so caught up in how nice it was to be back home (words you never thought you'd ever say), you paid no attention to the lack of mat time.

so when you walked into the backyard of his parents' house and saw a giant projector screen with blankets and pillows strewn about to make yet another fort, you almost cried.

mat's head popped out from the middle with a smile on his face until he saw the tears in your eyes. "why're you crying baby? this is supposed to be happy!"

"i love you" was all you could blubber out.

mat laughed to himself, taking your hands in his own. "i love you too baby." he knelt down and the tears kept coming down your face. "ever since i was a kid, i thought i'd be the one walking you down the aisle to the man you'd marry because i never thought you'd be crazy enough to fall in love with me."

you scoffed. "i'm definitely the one batting out of my league here, mathew."

"don't talk about the love of my life that way," he said before continuing on. "we've gone through a lot together, and i couldn't imagine getting through life without you by my side." mat took a deep breath. "so tell me, do you wanna get married?" mat asked.

you nodded through your weeping. "only if i get to marry you," you smiled.

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. spending a week taking care of fushiguro... how bad could that be?

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing wc. 5.2k author’s note. in this story, we use first names in text when reader feels emotionally connected to the person xoxo and that's on stylistics

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

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CHAPTER 10: fushiguro megumi's week-long suspension

“i can’t believe it has come to this…” you utter, squint, and try seeing past the unrelenting glare of the july sun. gojo, always nearby, kicks a pebble, looking much more like an elementary kid rather than the one you are going to pick up.

moody, blushing, shoulders slouched and head hung; he says nothing because he tried saying something five minutes ago when you repeated yourself, but a sharp look and a displeased pinch of your lips made him promptly shut up. where was this deference when he was making your life a living hell while you begged him to leave you alone? at this point, you might tell him to jump and he’d land on pluto, if only you weren’t glaring at him anymore.

you shake your head and tut, “absolutely unbelievable.”

“oh god, please, spare me,” he grumbles, shoving a hand out of his pocket only to offer it to you.

you examine it. unappealing, “sweaty.”

the way he instantly scowls at you could be adorable, if you weren’t so irked. your bingo list for the summer, or ever, really, didn’t include attending a parent-teacher conference about an unruly seven year old that’s not even yours. fushiguro megumi keeps breaking toys and beating up his classmates – detention, teacher’s notes (which gojo did not read), extra homework, and a one on one with the parent (which gojo did not attend) did not work. a public trial is all that’s left, and even this would have slipped through gojo’s fingers. the notice arrived a week ago, but gojo neglected to check his email, and he missed the whole of 5 calls before yaga-sensei was informed of his outstanding failure as fushiguro’s legal guardian.

you shake your head again, almost closing your eyes – it’s too bright and too hot, and you think you hear the sidewalk sizzling, and maybe this is one of those days you shouldn’t be outside at all, “still can’t believe it…”

you wouldn’t be doing your duty as a concerned citizen if you weren’t even attempting to guilt-trip him into oblivion. you had plans today anyway, namely melting into your mattress or heaving by the conditioner, but he has ruined them all by asking you to come along. why didn’t you just say no? maybe because he looked especially miserable.

maybe because…

*

"here, give me that," your fingers curl over his tie, straightening the knot and smoothing it out. the inside of fushiguro’s school is thankfully cool, "is this really necessary though?"

"how do i look?"

"well...good?" your answer doesn't satisfy him much because he reaches for his hair and runs a hand, as if that will do him any favors. it doesn't. you wince and adjust the strands.

"like a respectable adult?" he is still wearing his shades, a necessary evil in the afternoon sun, even within these pale walls.

"that's a stretch."

he frowns, "not helping. the hell, i dressed nicely and everything,"

"not sure how a tie and an untucked shirt is 'nice' exactly, but okay,"

"you are so bossy," gojo has a small, pitiable expression on his face, and he's got it bad. he'd better; there's a ton of disgruntled parents lining the corridor of the conference room, and though this doesn't involve you in the least, they stare a little too hard as if you're the problem. you find you can't meet anyone's gaze directly.

"anyway," you squeeze his forearm, which feels nice – soft, his muscles yielding under the fabric – "keep it together,"

he doesn't, really, "this blows.”

"will you keep it together?"

"you're going in with me," his knuckles rap a rapid, anxious beat over his knee. he is seated and not happy, and you can't help noticing how big he is compared to the other men milling in the room, but most of all, how stupid and incompetent. it makes your heart patter in your chest.

"didn't agree to that. why do i have to?"

"because," he glares, "i'll tell them you're the mom."

he's lost it. your arms cross and your brow flattens. you take a few seconds to regard him before giving your answer.

"satoru, don’t they know you're, like, a step-dad?"

"i'm the dad that stepped up."

"seriously?"

"technicality."

"you pay the utility bills," you whisper back, annoyed.

"i'll tell them it's your biological child if you don't go in with me," he threatens.

the tips of his ears have turned a telltale pink, and even he notices, ducking his head and leaning further against the wall. when his leg won't stop bobbing, and he keeps the nervous tapping going, your heart sinks, "satoru," he really has you hook, line, and sinker, because you falter faced with his obvious distress. you didn't expect him to be this nervous, since he's always so carefree, "you..." he looks so very uncomfortable and unhappy in his white button up, which is a bit crumped, mind you, "oh, what the hell. fine."

"thank god."

the faculty makes an appearance, but not one person recognizes him. a brief discussion and introductions later, the room is emptied save the offended parents, the teacher, you, and gojo.

adults can be scary, but your job involves cursed spirits, and those are much scarier than a disgruntled salaryman will ever be.

what is more terrifying than a cursed spirit or a perturbed father trying to lynch gojo with his glare is a scorned mother. you try to not shrink into yourself as she points an accusing finger, as if you've committed the crime alongside fushiguro, "explain yourselves! what kind of parenting is this!?"

if you were sweating before, well, now you're really sweating. you and gojo share a quick, worried glance before the faculty intervenes to give an account of fushiguro. she must have some kind of hearing impairment because she yells, "young parents these days, treating their children so dismissively!"

it would be highly unadvisable and probably a very bad idea to mention the circumstances by which gojo is legally fushiguro's ward, or the fact that he's neither your biological son nor your son at all, and luckily, gojo is smart enough not to disclose any of that. no, what he says is so much worse, "i can assure you that we provide all the attention and care in the world for our son!"

it takes your mind a second to fully comprehend that, yes, he has, in fact, said 'we' and 'son' in the same sentence, and then his hand comes to clutch and yank you painfully over so that you're sitting half on the edge of his chair, "tell her!"

and the room falls deadly quiet for a few moments, which you use wisely to consider: first, kicking gojo right where it counts, and second, bolting for the nearest exit.

the silence is stifling, "err... yes, we take care of him."

"are you even out of college?!" the woman is flaring red with anger.

this isn't exactly your proudest moment, or his, and you can feel your legs shake, and how is it possible that gojo's arm, slung around your waist, is steady and strong, "we're not, but we're, we’re doing the best we can."

when the hell did you become so willing to dive into danger for a man? you'd never met such a troublemaker, and yet, here you are, listening to gojo tell the concerned parent in a voice far more confident than it had been just seconds ago, "you need not concern yourself, ma'am. we take care of megumi every single day and provide a nurturing, homey, and responsible environment for him. and we also love him very much. he and his sister. which we love. right, dear?"

and that’s your cue, “yes. my children. very well behaved.”

"he broke my son's nose!"

"did he deserve it?" gojo quips.

"no!"

he sighs. you eye the door longingly.

"i'll pay the medical bills."

*

the heat's less severe when you leave. a suspension.

with fushiguro safe and collected from his classes, the three of you stroll back to jujutsu technical. gojo lets him lead and you lag, half embarrassed, a third disinterested, and two thirds disheartened that you're now seriously involved with someone like gojo satoru, that this is your life. god, that whole experience was so bad, and his word vomit was the cherry on the shittiest cake you've had in a long time.

you are still, quite frankly, mortified. you know that gojo was talking out of his ass because explaining the real situation would actually make it look even worse than a case of young and stupid parents, but it somehow unnerved you greatly.

this is none of your concern. or it shouldn't be, at the very least. but it's making you consider the distant future and wrangle with the question of – do you want to get married? do you want to have children? such a line of thinking is unacceptable for many reasons, namely that you don't, and you're young, and you'd rather not die with any false hopes in place, because it's likely you'll never reach past your mid-20s and be with someone you actually would want to start a family with.

the city is hazy and humid, the people around appear sluggish. a vendor sells a bunch of sweet watermelons by the street. gojo stops to buy some slices for the three of you, and fushiguro accepts his reluctantly.

then, he marches onward, gloomy as always.

"megumiiiin," and gojo is right on his tail, wiggling his fingers in what's supposed to be an invitation, "let's hold hands."

"no."

"come on, i got you a week-long vacation," he insists.

"it's a suspension!" you hiss, chewing.

gojo glances back. shrugs, "eh."

fushiguro drags his feet, his chin tucked into the front of his uniform's collar, black bangs shifting messily and sticking over his eyes, "m'not apologizing."

"don't, you got good aim," gojo says wisely.

fushiguro offers gojo nothing else to say. the awkward and mortifying experience is, for him, nonexistent. he doesn't know what happened behind those doors, and he shouldn't to preserve his innocence.

for the remainder of the walk, he trudges forward without uttering another word, or without once turning back. the way he's sulking and putting distance between you, however, makes the unpleasant feeling linger a bit longer than it should, though there's really nothing you can do.

once he's already making his way to his temporary lodging, you call out, "ne, megumi," and his footsteps cease immediately. he turns about and stares expectantly, "do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"...no."

gojo watches you with sharp interest as you try not to bend under the pressure of both of their gazes, "well," you try, sounding a bit shy, "in that case, would you like to go shopping with me? i could use the company."

silence. the awkwardness from the earlier meeting hangs heavy, until fushiguro seems to recover and crosses his arms, mouth set a little firmly, "i have to finish my homework."

what a horrible excuse.

"we could visit the arcade and get slushies," you say, feeling a bit more confident since he seems to be cracking.

he narrows his eyes, considering his options. then, with a very pronounced scowl, "is he going?"

gojo perks, having been slouching listlessly with a grimace, "oh! me? sure, i'll be there," he even beams, the prick, while fushiguro gives him a deadpan stare.

"oh, no no," you try to rectify quickly, "satoru isn't going," and you jab your elbow into his side, sunny smile and all, "you're busy tomorrow, remember?"

gojo frowns. then he pouts. then, he looks annoyed. but finally, he looks away and says, "yeah, right. i am. totally forgot. so busy."

"figured," fushiguro hums, shrugs a little and says, "sure."

"awesome," you grin, feeling somehow very lucky, "it's a date!"

"not a date!" gojo declares.

fushiguro stomps through the door, his entire demeanor shifting entirely from apathetic to downright irritated, muttering, "you two are weird."

and then he's gone. the door creaks shut behind his small frame.

"it's a date?" gojo parrots, giving you a look.

"oh, don't be mad. it's just fun teasing him," you smile a little sheepishly, tugging him along to the direction of your dorm room.

he matches your pace, steps becoming slower. his arm is warm around your back.

*

“you don’t offer to hang out often,” coming from fushiguro, it sounds less of an observation and more like a thinly veiled accusation. you give pause.

true to your word, you have taken him to get slushies and some light shopping after a stop at the aquarium, which he enjoyed the most because it was quiet and the room felt never-ending.

for a kid, fushiguro is too perceptive, too grumpy, too. you hadn't expected that your presence could be missed, or even desired, since it was so rare to see him when he wasn’t on college grounds. with his sister still at summer camp, he doesn’t have anywhere else to stay. the two of them living alone with semi-regular visits from gojo is already wildly weird and unsafe, and leaving him by himself in the apartment was out of the question.

maybe you should have invited him earlier. he must be so lonely.

"mm. s'always busy with jujutsu studies," you tell him a bit shamefully.

a tic twitches underneath his eye. he finishes his cherry-red drink in two long gulps before taking you up the escalator to his favorite candy store.

you hold his palm. he grips tight but releases hastily as though embarrassed the second the mom and pops duo in their late fifties make a aaaw sound at you two. you almost throw your electric blue slushie at them – the workup to this very moment had been nothing short of arduous. the old man and woman look absolutely infatuated.

you will have to try to sneakily hold his hand again, under the pretenses of safety or whatever, even if you’re fairly certain fushiguro would beat up a kidnapper if it ever came down to it.

he dives straight for the large jar that has the 'bullet gums' printed on the container. he holds it up, and somehow, he's more of a little kid than the angry gremlin he usually is in gojo's presence. you have to battle with yourself to not fish out your phone and snap a million pictures.

"so cute..." you mutter under your breath.

you don't think it reaches his ears until his forehead wrinkles into an offended scowl, but he doesn't say anything as he goes on picking and tossing the good ones in his basket.

"how much money do you have?" fushiguro looks at your purse suspiciously.

you’re a bit affronted – maybe he and gojo do have a lot more in common than anyone would suspect, because this child has just called you poor.

"ehh, don't worry,” maybe you should be worried for the future generation and their manners, “satoru gave me his card, so you can buy anything you want.”

fushiguro scowls. he sets down the bulging bag on the floor beside him, and looks away from you, "...i don't want anything."

you blink and peer at the selection of items. it will likely be a hefty sum, but nothing too egregious. fushiguro picked his candy with care, and you note that it’s mostly sour things.

“but it looks tasty,” you say, and you mean it, even if you prefer sugar on sugar atop liquid sugar.

“no.”

you ponder for a second what might have made him so upset so suddenly. you hum. time for some mathematics. fushiguro hates gojo, gojo is sponsoring this outing, which, maybe, somehow equals fushiguro wanting to spend time with gojo, hence, fushiguro is grumpy and probably wants to go home.

you feel like 2 + 2 = 5 since you’ve uncovered one more piece of information.

well, this is a problem. you raise an eyebrow. how does one deal with an upset seven year old? you think you’ve been doing good so far, but it’s only because fushiguro was in a good mood and somehow tolerable of your presence. suppose you'll have to play by his rules. suppose you can do that, or at the very least try.

slowly, you take the bag. then, you extend your hand to him, "we could try maxing out satoru's card – doesn't that sound fun?"

he furrows his brow and looks like he's having a bad idea. slowly, hesitantly, his tiny palm comes to land in yours, fingers slotting, and then you are both making your way to the counter.

the next spot you visit is a bookstore.

"do you like reading?" you inquire curiously.

a shrug. you assume he's shy, so you let it pass, instead picking up a few manga. they seem popular these days, and maybe you’ll actually have some free time to read it before missions swamp you and you’re off to battle curses in the muggy heat.

meanwhile, fushiguro chooses a coloring book and a plethora of new, shiny markers.

"looks cool," you say.

"yeah," he agrees, and he seems happy. you would really like to take a picture right about now, but you swipe gojo’s credit card instead. you and fushiguro share a pleased look.

when you visit the food court, it’s already buzzing.

"let's get something to eat," you suggest. he nods, "pizza?"

"yes please."

you notice him getting a bit anxious when a large group of people move in front of the two of you, and without a word, your push him closer to your body as you shield him. he stiffens, but doesn't ask you to let go, and leans his head into the comfort.

that's sweet. too sweet. you resist the urge to melt down. god, this kid is growing on you like fungus. you can't believe how happy you are to be spending time with him. that this is actually happening, and you're not imagining any of it. you almost regret not doing this sooner. you feel stupid for being scared and skipping out before.

you might even, and this you find startling, put yourself through the whole ordeal with the parent-teacher conference again. only this time, you might be the one screaming and pointing fingers. what a cute kid.

when the person in front of you finally vacates a table, you squeeze into the tight space, but not before flagging down the server.

"is it just me, or does today feel like a celebration?" you ask him in the attempt of stirring conversation.

his bored eyes wander around, perhaps not finding the occasion anything special or remarkable. but then, with a nod, he says, "i guess."

that's as much enthusiasm as he's going to allow himself to show, and that is completely fine, you decide. you don't need him to pretend for the sake of pleasing you. you're just happy to be here, and you can't wait to tell gojo all about this in great detail. he'll be so jealous.

*

yes, gojo can get any michelin star meal delivered within the hour if he’s persistent and snooty enough. he might also be able to import something from korea in the timeframe it took you to decide on what to eat if fushiguro so much as implored he wanted anything. the real problem is that fushiguro does not want to eat anything touched by gojo’s hands or credit card – the outing being the only exception, as that was done with malicious intent to scam gojo out of more money than was necessary – and you think it’s not healthy to have a growing kid survive on the instant noodles and snacks you purchase from the convenience store.

the cafeteria food is alright, but it, too, lacks the nutrition needed for strong bones and a healthy immune system. you also were unable to find the allergens or a basic ingredients list on the food served there, and the cooks you inquired were suspiciously tight-lipped about it, which only left you pondering about what exactly you have been eating for the past three years.

that, and fushiguro seems to be missing his sister lately, who, apparently, made him food, or made food alongside him, but your newfound big sister instincts send you into a frenzy even imagining this child next to a sharp knife. he is way too independent. when you think of yourself being his age, you think your childhood was much more carefree.

a homecooked meal it is. only problem is that you’re not a great cook, and whatever you made you could only serve yourself because it was just mediocre enough to teeter on the scale of enjoyment, if it could be called that.

still, you were wrestled into an apron by a pest named gojo satoru, who dons a matching one but avoids the pots and pans and stays by the television with fushiguro, as he was made aware that whatever he touches will be promptly thrown into the trash.

you chop, and stir, and haughtily avoid the counter where you were propped up to be devoured by the same man throwing his head back and cackling at some painfully unfunny late night tv show. you catch your reflection in the sharp blade of a knife and pause for a moment.

so this is my life now, huh?

as expected, neither the presentation nor the actual food is up to fushiguro’s standards. it’s evident by the way he skeptically pokes the mess on his plate with his fork. the noodles are too crisp, the broccoli – burned. you might’ve gone overboard with the seasoning, and yes, you can wrangle a curse into submission, but you cannot prepare a decent dinner.

you wait for the verdict with your hands curled into your apron, like some maid about to be scolded by a temperamental prince.

when a minute passes of just examination, you thread carefully, “ne,” fix your best smile, tilt your head to the side even – this is beyond humiliating. nothing gojo has put you through could ever amount to the small curl of queasiness on fushiguro’s mouth, “how about we order food in?”

“i’ll pay!” comes gojo’s enthusiastic agreement. he even waves the remote around, like it’ll summon something delicious on the coffee table just like that.

fushiguro, faced with this unprecedented cheerfulness, stabs his dinner and eats without a word spared.

you stare. no, this can’t be good, you might give him food poisoning, “no, really. let’s order something edible.”

fushiguro chews thoughtfully before he answers, “…it’s edible.”

“liar!” gojo accuses.

“shut up!”

well. it doesn't go too badly, and after a while, gojo puts on a nature documentary as a peace offering, while you wash the dirty dishes and keep sending worried glances to a now placid fushiguro who dutifully finished his meal and has moved on to polishing the bowl clean.

and you can't help the sudden onslaught of fondness that fills you up as the warm water from the sink hits your fingers. this is oddly nice and comforting. it reminds you of the dinners you had back home, only they never were this late and you always pouted when having to wash your plate and utensils.

"eh," you almost drop the soapy spatula; your head ticks to the entrance of the dorm kitchen, and you see shoko leaning by the doorway before the smell of cigarette smoke reaches you. her eyes jump from your apron, to gojo sprawled on the couch, to fushiguro neatly folding a small towel, "feeling a bit left out. what's going on here?"

oh no. you feel your face heat all the way to your forehead. how incriminating, how do you even begin to explain this strange and off-putting development of your relationship with gojo?

maybe you should have told her as soon as it happened, but you didn't know how.

you wanted to, though. each time you meet shoko’s gaze, you had the overwhelming urge to come clean. you can’t phantom how criminals can lie to the police with a straight face, because you’re having significant trouble. what’s worse, it always felt like shoko knew anyway, somehow; that that information breached the kawakami-gojo bubble and bled into the common knowledge pool.

shoko always seemed so suspicious, and in this case, for good reason. now, suppose you don't have to explain anything at all.

gojo points at you with this thumb, "she can't cook for shit, you know that?"

"oh, yes," shoko hums, pleased, "know it too well. i won't need to use reverse on you, will i?"

"nah," he drawls, "think i'd eat that drivel? i'm not suicidal."

"hey!" you bristle.

fushiguro frowns and glares at the tuff of white hair peaking over the back of the couch, "it wasn't so bad."

and your anger vanishes, just like that. your honor has been defended by an seven year old, and now it's just a matter of having to bear with shoko's probing look and the telltale curve in her smile.

"ah, well, if megumi vouches for you, then maybe you've improved," shoko says sagely.

gojo snorts in clear disagreement. fushiguro scrunches his brow and purses his lips.

*

there’s definitely something somewhere written about proper bedtime, but being with fushiguro has made you sentimental about your childhood, and you recalled sneaking around at night to watch tv and having too much energy to sleep, even when you were tucked into your favorite blanket with your favorite stuffed toy under your armpit and read your favorite story.

so you take him to a pastry shop at near closing time, and smile particularly sweetly at the disgruntled cashier who just finished cleaning up. you feel a bit bad, but alas – a tasty treat is a tasty treat, and what is more, everything’s on discount, so you spend a generous amount to make sure fushiguro and you have enough to snack on all the way back to jujutsu tech and then some.

you also got some for gojo, despite how brattish he can be. the only reason he didn’t follow you here is because fushiguro had forbidden it, but even now, you’re not sure if you aren’t being monitored.

fushiguro bites into his colorful fish cookie and chews. the sky is already dimming, but there’s still plenty of people out and about, enjoying their summer. he keeps close, but doesn’t reach for your hand. you hadn’t been able to achieve your initial victory at the start of the week, but maybe you still have some time.

“you’re leaving for a mission,” he says after a pleasant silence, blunt as always. you try remembering if you were this honest when you were his age. certainly, you must’ve been more tactful. when your gaze flits to fushiguro, you find him disgruntled, an expression reminiscent of gojo when he doesn’t get something he wants.

it’s starkly similar, actually. a father that stepped up…

“it’s only for a few days,” you tell him, keeping your voice light in an effort to appease him, “i’ll be back before you know it. with souvenirs, too.”

a tic creases his brow as he seems to give the offer some serious contemplation. a couple of moments pass before, with a sharp huff, he mumbles a sour, "do as you like."

you manage a patient, "look forward to the present, hm?"

he is very stubborn and says nothing but chews with a little more fervor.

"maybe you want something specific? or would surprise be best?"

you hear a short sound of exasperation at that, and a shake of his head.

"no... you can choose, nee-san."

you nearly collapse. fushiguro, no, megumi, megumi hasn't ever been so malleable before; the things this boy has been doing to your heart must be against the law. it’s too precious, and so sweet it makes the glazed cinnamon bun grasped so tightly between your fingers taste bland. how could you ever recover? is it even worth bringing it up? just how much does megumi truly care about you to call you something so tender?

you have to swallow a disgusting ball of coo for the sake of everyone, namely megumi, who seems especially irritated, “…how about a plushy? or a phone accessory? satoru said he bought you a nice new model.”

your efforts do not go unnoticed. there is a gleam in his eyes, and his cheeks flush in pleasure.

"can..." his tone lowers, quiet, almost timid, "can i choose when you're back?"

there isn't a bone in your body strong enough to decline that.

"of course," you smile, "tell me when i should come back and i will."

a pair of small fingers come to grip your sleeve, hesitantly, shyly.

"the sooner, the better," he mumbles, glaring at the sidewalk, "so... be quick."

*

“’s stupid,” gojo grumbles, making himself comfortable on your bed instead of helping you pack your suitcase, “why you needa go, anyway?”

not him, too. christ, why are they ganging up on you?

you sigh, folding a sweater. it’ll likely be too warm to wear it, but you’ll take it just in case, “cuz yaga-sensei told me to?”

“coulda said no,” he answers stubbornly. you pause to stare him down.

if not for the sunglasses, he would be giving you the same look as megumi; a bit less angry, more passive aggressive.

he presses, the smirk fading, a sharp edge to his voice, not quite biting, not yet, "wanna stay and fuck a bit instead?"

god. the word makes your spine crawl with something familiar, or rather, a mix of emotions that is indescribable and difficult to disentangle; something close to exasperated fondness, perhaps.

but you shake your head, the weak protests die out on your lips, and he rolls over, sated, like a cat that had gotten its cream, "...you sure?"

"stop trying to seduce me," you snort, ignoring the lingering glance directed at your back.

"then you'd really miss your train."

"satoru."

"right, right..."

"go be annoying somewhere else."

a heavy exhale. you don't dare to turn because you hear the mattress creak and his footsteps drawing nearer.

the warmth envelops you easily, his hold is lazy, his mouth is by your ear, hot breath sending a shiver up your nape, "mean. and here i am, all ready and eager."

but his fingers linger on the waist of your shorts, just above the material. it's a small touch. noninvasive. you can feel him holding himself back.

"...'s gonna be too cold," gojo continues, quietly. he isn't helping, his nose nudging your hair, a soft kiss pressed below your earlobe, "in bed without you. who will i cuddle now?"

oh, damn him and the things he does and says. and that honey sweet voice of his, teasing you.

but you won't fall for his tricks, "well, it won't be forever. you won't even notice i'm gone."

and he laughs. like he's telling himself not to show his irritation at you dismissing him so easily, "always notice," he mumbles, or maybe he doesn't, because he kisses your cheek one more time before he disentangles and plops down onto the mattress again, "anyway, megumi wants to escort you to the train station, so expect an entourage."

you ponder who would be more clingy: gojo or megumi.

*

it's gojo.

tags (couldn’t tag in bold!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @alygator77 , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l ,

[lionhanie]

myung jaehyun ; voodoo doll

academic rivals to... crush?, childhood friends turned frenemies, jaehyun has feelings and in SEVERE denial

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: i curse like twice lmao, reader is shorter than jaehyun, jaehyun goes thru insane internal conflict because he’s coping w/ his newfound crush on u

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, here u go!

a/n: tbh this is one little self indulgent because i feel like jaehyun + this concept would respectfully Ruin my Life so…. voodoo doll fits the scenario well!

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

your families were close, having moved into the neighborhood around the same time. living next to a family with a son the same age as you essentially meant you would be seeing each other often; whether it was leaving the house at the same time to walk to school or being sent next door to return borrowed tupperware, it was safe to say that you were more than familiar with each other. 

it was sweet, really. the picture of you and jaehyun at your kindergarten graduation has been framed in the hallway outside your bedroom for as long as you can remember. jaehyun’s older brother used to treat you guys to ice cream after a test. hell, your families would take weekend trips together over the summer! even when you were young, your mothers always joked that it would be just perfect if the you two started dating, especially when your families trust each other already! and it would be so convenient too, being right next door and all. except, things didn’t work out as they had initially hoped. 

you were almost always competing with each other growing up -- who could get a better test score, who could get the most medals in a certain sport, who would get more votes at a class election; you name it. once, you made a bet on who would be taller than the other by the time you finished middle school; it’s a defeat that jaehyun never let you hear the end of when a routine check-up at the doctor told you that you were done growing. it was friendly competition for a while, until you both started taking the rivalry a bit too seriously. 

the tension at the dinner table was evident every time your families would join together for your monthly dinners. making sneer remarks towards each other, scoffing at the boasting of one’s achievements, ultimately resulting in a one-up battle that would always be shut down by the parents. it was just petty at this point. you really had no reason to feel so… negatively towards each other all of a sudden. 

“everytime you’re near me, suddenly my heart begins to race / every time i leave, i don’t know why my heart begins to break”

until one day, things are different for jaehyun. he catches himself looking at you from across the classroom longer than he normally does, eyes quickly darting away and cheeks slightly flushed when you address his very obvious staring. when it’s time for lunch, he finds himself sitting a little closer to your table of friends, his heart skipping a beat upon hearing your melodious laughter. when he sees you talking to another guy, he grips the notebook in his hand a bit tighter, a pang of jealousy ringing within him-- he dismisses the feeling and goes about the rest of his daily routine.

despite the apparent hostility in your friendship, you’ve never walked home without the other without good reason. making sure he got the both of you home safe was something jaehyun’s father encouraged him to do ever since you guys were in elementary school; it’s practically second nature to him. there’s not as much conversation exchanged nowadays, especially compared to how you two used to talk the entire walk home as kids, oftentimes having trouble stopping your giggles when you part ways to walk into your respective homes. 

he’s sitting on a bench outside of the school’s entrance, earbuds in as he waits for you to walk out the glass doors. a cool breeze flies by while he hums along to the song that had just come on shuffle. it’s a little strange that you weren’t out yet. it’s been over fifteen minutes since all club activities were supposed to end, and you never wanted to stay at school longer than you need to be. jaehyun contemplates going back inside to look for you, even going as far as getting up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder-- oh, there you are. 

“let’s go?” you finally walk out of the doors, fiddling with your tangled pair of earbuds. he feels a wave of relief wash over him, phew. he was worried there for a second. wait. why was he worried? it’s not like something bad could’ve happened to you; you were probably just talking to one of the teachers or something. he’s acting like you’ve never been a little late before. if anything, he’s probably made you wait even longer than he just did, and /you/ never seemed to think twice about it. what is up with him today? 

“give me those,” jaehyun says, referring to the earbuds you were currently struggling to take knots out of. he doesn’t actually wait for you to hand them to him, rather opting to grab them out of your hands, making you roll your eyes. he untangles the stubborn loops with ease, handing them back to you after. “wow, and no thank you? you’re feeling especially cold today, y/n.” he scoffs as he places his hands in his jacket pockets while he walks beside you. 

“and it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest and i’m having trouble catching my breath”

“myung jaehyun, thank you so much for helping me just now! what would i do without you?” you respond, very obviously sarcastic. “i’m exhausted, starving, and i’d rather not deal with your attitude again today, okay?” jaehyun watches as you plug your earbuds in and place both of them in your ears; you usually leave the one closest to him out to hear him better with the few sentences of small talk shared on the trip home. if he had puppy ears on his head, you would’ve seen them droop at the way you were completely ignoring him now.  he wanted to brag about the grade he got back on his english paper earlier, but it didn’t seem like a good time to do so. maybe you had a bad day. 

as you walk on the familiar route home from school, all jaehyun wants to do is crack a joke or make a fool out himself by doing something stupid-- anything that would possibly brighten up your mood a bit; except you’re focused only on whatever you’re listening to and the sidewalk in front of you. his mind is all over the place as he walks in silence beside you; what’s got you so upset? the exams coming up? surely not, you always seem to get higher scores than him with ease. is it the school festival? you’ve been stressing out over planning your club’s performance for a while... why does he want to know so badly? whatever it is, it’s hurting him to see you stray from your usual demeanor. 

“i don’t even like you / why’d you want to go and make me feel this way? / i don’t understand what’s happened, i keep saying things i never say” 

after dinner, jaehyun’s doing homework at his desk before he pauses to look out the window that faces yours, noticing your lights are off already. it isn’t too late, maybe around 11pm, but it’s definitely way earlier than your typical bed time, especially when finals are right around the corner. “i guess y/n had a rough week.” he rests his chin against his hand, internally debating whether or not to check in on you. it’s not weird to send you a text right? he’s just concerned, after all. 

to: my y/n sorry about earlier. are you going to sleep now?

“...are you going to sleep now? myung jaehyun, you sound like a freak, god. let’s just get to the point.” he mocks himself as he deletes his previous message.

to: my y/n i wouldn’t have teased u if i knew u were having a bad day :( need to talk about it?

“should i even bother apologizing?” jaehyun puts his phone down on his desk. why is it so hard for him to send you a text right now? picking it back up, he erases his message again.

to: my y/n u ok?  → sent!

“that should be fine, y/n can talk about what’s wrong if they want to. and i didn’t seem too needy… this is good, yeah.” he tries to convince himself that he crafted the perfect message literally 3 letters but okay lmfao, but he regrets making himself sound so nonchalant when, in reality, that is the last word he would use to describe himself right now. maybe he just needs to sleep on it. 

“tell me where you’re hiding your voodoo doll ‘cause i can’t control myself / i don’t wanna stay, wanna run away / but i’m trapped under your spell” 

jaehyun packs up his laptop and notebooks, arranging them haphazardly in his backpack before moving to wash up for bed. he’s a couple steps out his bedroom door, halfway to the bathroom, when he hears his phone chime three times. you’re still awake.  it’s almost embarrassing how fast he finds himself back in his room, eagerly opening his messages. 

3 new messages from “my y/n”! lmao yeah, life kicking my ass lately tell u more tmr if u want details :p  thanks for caring, jaehyun

thanks for caring, jaehyun. what? of course he would care. honestly, he’s offended; why do you think he wouldn’t care about you? he simply reacts with a thumbs up to your second message-- jaehyun hesitates momentarily, but he ends up reacting with a heart to your last message. he thinks you should get some sleep, you need it. 

now, myung jaehyun is having trouble sleeping. which is odd, because he normally knocks out the second he’s under the covers. his heart is practically beating out of his chest thinking back to your texts, even if it was only a couple words. it’s been a while since you two just… talked normally. it’s a sad realization, especially when jaehyun thinks about the years of history you have together. the thought of you laughing at his silly antics and hitting his arm playfully on your walk home, just like how you used to, gives him butterflies. it’s hard to ignore when he’s trying to rest. he’s searching and scanning every possible explanation in his head as to why he started looking at you differently now. he tosses and turns in his bed, even rearranging his pillows numerous times in a sad attempt to push his feelings for you out of his head and finally sleep. 

jaehyun could’ve sworn he hated your guts, but he can’t exactly explain why the “hate” started in the first place. could he have liked you this whole time? no, that doesn’t make sense… you know what, it’s probably some freaky magic manifestation stuff… yeah, that’s it. maybe a voodoo doll or something… because surely there’s no logical reason as to why jaehyun could possibly be falling for you after all this time. 

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

a/n: bye i think its so funny to think that jaehyun is just so unwilling to accept his own feelings that he blames it on LITERAL MAGIC looooooool silly boy i love him :,)

[chaengluva]

Massive Deal [1]

This is the full story version of Too much of a massive deal, it will be a few chapters!

Regina George x Fem!Reader: Part 1: 3.7k words including intro

Btw, if you think things are going to fast or what not, this is like 3 of my wattpad chapters in one, so i don’t have to do to many updates and theres not as many parts.

————————————————————————————

Introduction

It was really unrealistic, I mean, having a crush on Regina George? When you told your best friend she said she wasn't surprised, It was almost the same reaction when you told her you were lesbian. You tell your best friend everything, she's the only person you truly trust in your friend group. Her name is Bella Christensen

You love all your friends but you were friends with Bella during elementary school, you told her you were lesbian and you haven't told your family yet, she's been a really good friend about it and hasn't said anything.

The worst part about having a crush on Regina George is being related to her best friend, Gretchen, you guys don't talk much because she is always with Regina, you just think it would be weird dating your sisters best friend.

Like the thought of Bella dating Gretchen makes you want to throw up inside.

You know this crush was just some silly teenager thing that will go away, you know she's not lesbian and most likely homophobic, so when you get into your senior year of high school you're plan for the year is to study hard (MOVE ON FROM REGINA GEORGE) and to have fun.

What will happen? Will Regina like You? Will people turn against each other?

“I fucking hate High School”

————————————————————————————

The sound of your loud alarm started to go off, waking you up instantly and you groaned, summer break goes way too quickly. You take all the energy inside you to move your hand and press the snooze button on your phone, wanting to sleep for some extra you close your eyes but then open again at the sound of your door opening, it was Gretchen, what the fuck is she doing up this early?

She made her way to your closet and started throwing your clothes everywhere, making a mess. "Gretchen! What are you doing?" Your sister rolls her eyes answering, "I'm looking for my white blouse, the one you wore on the last day of school." You get up out of bed and rush to your closet before she ruins anything else and searches through your doors, finally finding it. "Here it is." She smiles slightly, "Thanks sis." You smile and think about heading back to bed but you decide not to, you know if you went back in you would never get out again.

You looked through your closet, groaning seeing the limited choices, "Ugh! I have nothing to wear," You looked at the weather, wanting to dress appropriately for the weather. You see that it is quite warm, you sigh and leave your room, sneaking into your sister's room. She has a lot of good clothes.

You take a blue shirt and a white skirt, hoping that she doesn't notice you in her room. When you leave her room you bump into her, hiding the clothes you took behind your back (as if she hasn't already seen them) So she doesn't get mad, your sister sighs. "Fine, I'll do your makeup too."

She brings you into her bathroom and does a small natural look, and finding you a better outfit, you look at yourself in the mirror, "Damn, all the boys will be crushing on you." Gretchen says, applying a little more mascara, you hesitate but nod at her works, not wanting to tell her the truth.

"I'll add lip gloss after you eat." She smiles and the two of you go down stairs, greeting your mom before going to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Gretchen has some avocado toast and juice, while you just had some cereal.

The two of you sit on the table, she talks about how she is excited to start the year. It's crazy how different she can be at home compared to at school. Everyone in school knows that the two of you are related but you never sit with each other.

You thought about how you would move on from Regina, your best idea was to just ignore her at all costs, every time you see her you stare at her with heart eyes, but she will never dare to look back at you. You sigh deeply, lost in your thoughts, thinking about the first time you realised you liked Regina.

Flashback

-

You were sitting with Bella, it was the last first day of middle school, you decided to start the year by trying out for the cheer team, you were very nervous because you know that everyone sitting here as already tried out and made the team, you were the only, who was trying to do it for the first time.

They called your name, Bella cheered loudly, you giggled, getting up off the bench, you stood there nervously as the judges sighed a few things, you stood there awkwardly. They told you to start and you started to do your audition, you did a few tricks, after you were done you saw that there were smiles on their faces.

They all told you that they would be in contact, you nodded and walked back to your friend, she smiled brightly, giving you a big hug. "You did so well!" You smiled, hugging her back, you also felt like you did quite well.

The two of you walked out of the gym and walked into the change room so you could change out of your sweaty clothes, when you walked in, you gasped at the sight. Regina George standing there in her bra and tight leggings, you have never taken a close look at her body before, you must have been staring for a while because you had lost focus for everything else that was going on.

Bella waved her hand in front of your face to make you come back into reality. You jumped looking at her and she looked at you with a confused look, walking away she could change. Fuck, you were like every guy at the school, you had a crush on Regina George.

End of flashback

-

A similar situation was happening out, while you were thinking of this moment you were clearly spaced out, Gretchen shook your body to bring you back into reality. Damn, moving on from Regina will be harder than you think, she can still make you feel the same butterflies like she did in middle school.

"Regina is giving me a lift to school if you want to come." You thought that would be awkward as hell, you were honestly confused as to why Gretchen was asking you. You awkwardly laugh saying, "Oh.. It's okay, Bella is picking me up!" Gretchen nods, grabbing her purse, before walking out the door.

You grab your phone and call Bella, she answers instantly, "Hey! Y/n!" You smile at how happy she sounds, "Hey Bella, when will you be here?" You ask, only so you can know how long you have to get ready. "I'll be there in 10 minutes, " You rolled your eyes, Bella would always be late.

It was like Bella could hear you rolling your eyes, "What! My alarm didn't go off!" She defended, making up an excuse. You giggled, "Yeah sure, I'll see you soon." You say hanging up the phone, you look over and see that Gretchen didn't put her dishes away, being the better sister, you get up and put both yours and hers in the sink.

You go upstairs to brush your teeth and fix your hair, you put on both deodorant and perfume, you start to apply your lip gloss but you hear a car horn beeping which messes you up, and she doesn't stop. "Jesus Christ! Bella I'm coming!" You yell, as if she could hear you.

You grab your back and quickly rush outside the door, rushing into her car, you give Bella a massive hug, you don't feel her hug back which you find strange, you pull away and you see that she is looking at you with a glare, "What?"

"Y/n, you look like a fucking plastic."

Bella parked outside the school smiling happily at you. "So" Bella started, "When will I decorate my car park?" She asked, you smiled back, hitting her leg, "Soon." You smile, getting out of her car, waiting for her to come to your side so you could link arms and walk into school.

"I'm so annoyed we don't have many classes together," Bela groaned, leaning her head on her shoulder, smiling at you, you look into her eyes and smile at her, "Yeah but one class is better than none." You mention she nods, taking her head off her shoulder.

"I can't believe we have maths first." Bella groans, walking into homeroom sitting down on the table, you sat down on the table next to her, rolling your eyes at her, "At least we are in the same class first period." You mention but Bella jumps in, "I have PE right after!" You laugh at her, "That sucks, I have English."

You roll your eyes, throw your head on the desk, lie down until the bell rings, Bella laughs at you, "Jesus Christ, first day and you're already falling asleep in class?" You look up at her, glaring into her eyes, making her laugh more. "Don't try to be intimidating with me."

The bell finally rang, everyone was happy to be out of the homeroom, but not excited to start class. You and Bella decide to take the long way to get to class because the two of you really hate maths.

Luckily, maths class went quickly and now you were in English class, you didn't see anyone that you knew in the class so you decided to sit alone, on the table in the back. Soon after the class started Regina walked in, not even looking at the teacher or saying sorry for being late.

You looked around the class and noticed that the only available seat was next to you, so you moved your stuff without her asking, for the whole lesson you were breathing heavily while she didn't look your way once, she was actually just on her phone the whole lesson.

Probably texting her stupid boyfriend.

Finally, the class was over and it was time for the first break. You met up with Bella, who was sitting under a tree. Eventually, all your other friends join up, you were a bit sad that a few had moved schools, but the group was still close, it just wouldn't be the same.

"So how your guys' classes?." Jennie asks, smiling, you groan, "I have Regina In my English class." Everyone else groans, feeling bad for you but Bella smirks, hitting your shoulder, making sure to do it quickly so no one sees.

"I can't believe you're related to Gretchen." Charlie commented, giggling looking over at Jennie, you chuckled, nodding your head, "Yeah me too, but at the end of the day she is my sister and I love her." The two girls just roll their eyes, you look at Bella who gives you a sympathetic look, you just shake your head, you weren't bothered by them.

The four of you continue to talk, none of you notice Oliver Kim walking over to you. "Hey, Y/n, I was just wondering if you like to go out tonight." You look at Bella, still feeling slightly bad to reject some nice looking people. You open your mouth to answer, but you hear someone else talk. "She would love to!" Oliver smiles, "Great, I'll text you the details."

"Jennie!" You exclaim, "What! You have never been on a date with a guy! you deserve this." She says, rubbing your knee. You sighed knowing she was just trying to be a good friend and she doesn't know that you are lesbian, so you try your best not to get hurt by it.

The bell rang, everyone quickly gathered their stuff and rushed out to their class. You walked to your chemistry class, it sucked that it was on the opposite side of the school. You walk into the class and observe the people in the class, you see Janis sitting alone.

You weren't friends with Janis but you weren't enemies, you smiled, walking over, "Hey!" you say, she smiles, looking up at you, you smile back, "Can I sit here?" You ask, feeling a little nervous, she smiled at you, moving her stuff so you could sit down, you sat down smiling at her, taking your stuff out, she looked over at you and smiled.

You took notes on the lesson, It was around half way through the lesson, you felt Janis tap you on the shoulder, "What other classes are you in this year." She smiled at you, you smiled back at her, telling her what classes you were in, you were surprised and happy to find out that.

You put your attention back to the teacher, you wrote down a lot of notes because if you were being honest, you were scared for this year, so you wanted to do your best in the classes. At the end of class, you and Janis had art next, "Hey so, do you want to walk to art together."

You smile nodding, walking to art with her, you start to talk about what you guys did over the summer. You walk inside and you smile when you see Damien, you know Janis and Damien are close so you let Janis go off to be with him. "Damien! You know Y/n." She smiles, He smiles back, "Of course I do, she's beautiful!" He exclaims, you giggle, looking down slightly shy with the complement.

"Class, Listen up!" Everyone turns their heads to the teacher, she continues to speak once everyone is paying attention, "Today we will paint freestyle, you can paint whatever you want." You smile, go through the paint box grabbing what you need, you look up images on your laptop, to get some ideas on what you can paint.

You settle on a landscape of a flower field, you put on an apron because you know Gretchen would murder you. You started to work on the painting, making sure to stay very focused. Janis sees this as a perfect opportunity to talk to Damien.

She pulls him into the other side of the classroom, making sure that there is no way that you would be able to hear, leaning in close she opens her mouth to talk, "Girl, you're way too close!" Damien says, too loud for Janis' liking. She quickly shushes him, backs up slightly and whispers.

"I think I like y/n."

Damien looked at You then looked at Janis, "You.. Like her?" Janis nods quickly. Damien rolls her eyes. "She's like the straightest girl here." Damien exclaimed, Janis hit him on the shoulder. "Ow!" He said, grabbing his shoulder, Janis rolled her eyes at him saying, "It shouldn't hurt that bad.." He glares at her his arm didn't really hurt, he was just being dramatic. "Anyway, you can't assume someone's sexuality!" Janis said a little too loudly, grabbing the attention of a few people.

"Look, my point is that. She's really pretty." Janis smiles, looking at You as if she could get lost in your eyes, "You know she's related to Gretchen." Damien whispers, Janis looks back at him, rolling her eyes before saying, "So what? You literally date Regina's ex boyfriend." Damien hits Janis softly, not too hard to the point where it hurts, they go back to greet you, gasping at the amazing process.

"Wow! You did that all just now?" Janis exclaims happily, you nod but don't say anything back, you don't want to lose your focus on the artwork, Janis smiles behind you, admiring your focus in the artwork, you have no Idea how she is looking at you, but she is looking at you the same way you looked at Regina George in middle school, the time you realised you liked her.

You looked back and she looked away, making you smile brightly. The teacher says that the bell will ring soon so everyone should start to pack up. You signed, packing your things and cleaning the supplies. You waved goodbye to Janis and Damien, knowing you would see Janis in PE.

You head to the cafeteria, smiling when you see your best friend, you sit down on the table, sitting next to Bella, you decide to wait for the line to die down before getting food.

You smile at her but she doesn't smile back. You look at her confused. "What's up?" You ask, honestly confused. She pulls you close so no one else hears, "I'm saying this before they come, aren't you worried about that date with Oliver tonight?"

You sigh, you had forgotten about that. You're very self-conscious so texting him or bailing on him wasn't even an option, and Bella knew this. She tried to comfort you the best she could because she knew as soon as Charlie and Jennie would come over, they would not shut up about it.

You heard the two girls walk over and just like you and Bella guessed, they didn't shut up. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're going out with Oliver Kim!" Jennie said happily, "Yeah!" You say, trying your best to actually sound happy, you look over at the line and see that it's smaller now. "I'm going to get my lunch." Hoping up, you go and grab a tray and line up to get your lunch.

In the line you could feel someone's eyes on on, they were standing next to you and you couldn't make out who it was, you decided to glance to the side to see if you can make out who it is, you smile brightly when you see it is Janis, pay for your food then sit down, smiling at your friends, "How was your classes?" Charlie asks, looking at you, smiling, you say, "Good, we did painting in art already!" They all smile brightly.

Lunch goes by quickly and you have to rush to the change room to get in your PE clothes, when you get in the change room with Janis you gasp at the sight, it was like you were back in middle school again, Regina George was there, in her sports bra. She was in the same PE class as you.

You don't notice how long you are staring at her, a loud voice brings you back to reality, it was Janis this time. She pulled you to the side, a space where no one could see. "You were staring at Regina.." She says, with almost a hint of sadness in her voice, you shake your head, wanting to deny it. "I wasn't! I swear."

She rolls her eyes, "You were staring at her boobs!" She whispers, yells, you sigh, looking down at the floor. "Y/n?" She asks, making you look up. "Yeah?" You ask, wanting her to continue, "Are you.. Gay?" She asks and you stare at her in shock, "No, I'm not!" You exclaim, scarred that Bella might have told someone. "I think you might be.." She adds, which makes you more upset. "You have no right to tell me my sexuality."

You push past her and go to change into your PE clothes, not bothering to even look at her when you exit the change room, or on the field, the teacher asks everyone to get into two teams and you try your best to not be in the same team as Janis, but just your luck you ended up on her team, along with Regina and a few other people.

The teacher asked everyone to do soccer drills, you couldn't help but stare at Regina, she looked so hot in a high ponytail. Fuck, you're doing in again y/n. You brush yourself out of it this time, you focus on ignoring how pretty Regina looks and ignore Janis' many attempts to talk to you, the only thing you should focus on is worrying about the date tonight.

For a boy you don't even like, the gender you don't like.

You must have been lost in your thoughts because the next thing you remember is a ball being kicked to your stomach and you were clutching it, struggling to catch your breath, you look over and see to girls laughing, you don't know their names but you can tell that they are new and already don't like you. "Hey! Assholes!" You hear someone yell, but you can't make out who it is.

You feel someone grab your hand and sit you down, you look over and see Janis, she is holding your water bottle and allows you to drink some of her water. You look at her with sad eyes, "I'm sorry for being a bitch." Janis just giggles, "It's okay, I'm sorry for assuming anything." You smile, nodding your head, drinking the water that Janis gave you. God you're good at covering your sexuality up, it's become natural.

"Hey, you okay?" You look up and you're surprised to see Regina standing there asking if you are okay, you try your best to play it cool but she is wearing a white top and a black bra, you try your best not to stare so you just quickly answer, "Yeah, I'm okay now." She nods, running away to other people in the class, your eyes follow her, a smile slowly creeps up on your face. "Y/n." You hear Janis call out. You turn your head back to her, "Yeah?"

"Wanna hang out with Damien and I tonight? We are going to stay at mine and watch movies, I'll give you a lift to school!" You frown slightly, you want to go, but you have other plans, "Sorry I can't tonight." You can see that she looks sad, "But hey! If my plans end early! I'll join you guys!" Her facial expression changes and she smiles brightly, "Can't wait!"

————————————————————————————

Now this is gonna be a little confusing, let me know if you would like a page that has a list of all the main characters/oc’s because there are quite a few.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝟎'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mention of one slur, (that is reclaimable don't come for me twitter), homophobia, death, etc

↳ song: american pie—don mclean

masterlist!

• Compared to the old giants that were London and Rome, Derry was an infant in terms of age

• But it didn't feel that way. The whole town had this sort of tint to it, like the stain of coffee on white paper—or the quality of an old polaroid that had been stuffed away and forgotten

• You had lived there most of your life. Gone to Derry Elementary, Derry Middle, would go on to attend Derry High, and would probably travel on to the closest college you could find to the area—unless something drastically changed that, of course

• It was almost like the whole place had a grip on its residents. And it wasn't like the comforting grip of your mother's hand as she led you through the grocery store. It was a harsher one. A cold and clamy grip, holding you tightly in place until you rotted away working a minimum wage job with no future in sight

• So thank god you had stumbled across the losers in your last year of middle school and changed just about everything

• It had been the last week of school when you had stupidly picked a fight with the biggest knothead in school and his gang of pimple faced idiots, figuring that if you were going to die anyway, might as well do it young

• Your school books had gone sprawling across the freshly waxed school hallway one fateful afternoon in May, the disaster courtesy of Derrys biggest doucuebag Henry Bowers

• In fact, you had told him he was such a thing to his face, which would be the reason you were currently being subjected to the pleasure of watching as Henry and his goons ripped up all of your school papers in front of everyone

• Math homework, eat your heart out

• You didn't, however, expect a stuttering voice to speak up from your left not long after watching the science paper you had worked so hard on get ripped to shreds

• "Guh-guh-guh-get fu-fucked Bowers!" A lanky kid spat out from your left, drawing most people's attention over to his blazing brown eyes instead of Henry's ugly mud colored ones

• You recognized your knight in shining armor, so to speak, as the infamous stuttering Bill Denbrough. He wasn't an unfamiliar face to you—in fact, you were pretty sure the two of you had homeroom together. But until that moment you'd never given him a second thought beyond asking to borrow a pencil

• Bill wasn't alone, either. Three more kids stood idly behind him, each one looking more anxious than the last. You'd later learn all their names to be Stan, Eddie, and Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier—the man of a hundered voices as he'd introduce himself. But right then, they were just more people to add to this already overcrowded shitshow

• "Muh-my buh-buh-bad Billy." Henry mocked Bill's stutter poorly, crossing his eyes crudely while he did it. "Duh-did I mess with one of yuh-your fag fruh-fruh-fruh-friends?"

• The shrill chorus of giggles that his friends let out at his words were like nails on a chalkboard to you

• "Takes one to know one." Richie had mummbled under his breath sourly, pushing the thick glasses he wore up his nose anxiously. The only people who heard him couldn't help but break up into a fit of sudden giggles—who of which just so happened to be you and Bill

• Both of you were found sporting black eyes the next day

• Ever since that odd school day, you had found yourself spending more and more time with each of them

• Riding bikes with Bill in his street as you got left in the dust by him and Silver, listening as Eddie rambled on nervously about all of the weird sicknesses he had gotten, furiously smashing buttons on arcade games in an attempt to beat Richie at least once, helping Stan organize all of his comics by color and alphabetical order—all became a part of your summer routine

• You quickly became a part of the losers club. Another peice to the odd puzzle you all made together. And you'd be lying if you didn't say it felt damn good

• It was only after Ben and the others showed up that things began to get both better and worse

• For starters, you had begun to see red balloons and dead kids everywhere—a detail that would later become a much bigger issue

• But you also found yourself making three entire new friends, which including Stan, Eddie, Richie and Bill, was the most you'd ever had

• Hot summer evenings down in the barrens and, eventually, the clubhouse now had a new sense of comradery to it

• You enjoyed talking with Beverly about certain book series the both of you kept up with and what songs she could play on the piano. Asking Mike about all the adventures he had gone on after hard days of farm work became a highlight of your Saturdays. Pouring over books in the library with Ben quickly became one of your favorite activities, the two of you sharing recommendations with each other. Even the librarian eventually got old of the two of you whispering excitedly to each other about story lines and character development

• Occasionally Bill or Richie would bring another kid down to the barrens to play with. It would be fun, but you all were thinking the same thing throught it all—that they were not a part of the club. That title was reserved for only the eight of you. And it would stay that way

• Together, all of you would eventually have to beat a common enemy together, sacrificing parts of yourself with it. But for now, you were content to watch as sticky syrup from popsicle sticks dripped down into your hands while you all walked to the movies, laughing about god knows what, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered but each other