#so now you’re just sad and irritated with the teacher

[strawberri-draws]

POV you’re about to learn that your Beautiful Creation tm is actually not important and will never come to fruition (aka moments before disaster)

[mae-gi-writes]

Teacher! Gojo, who found you a few years back when you were still a child and he was a student at Jujutsu high, and decided that he would take you under his wing despite the fact that you barely had seven years of age difference and he was still just a boy.

Teacher!Gojo, who taught you everything you needed to know and came to your defense when the Elders of the Jujutsu council wanted to kick you out of the program due to “insufficient cursed energy.”

Teacher! Gojo, who despite his incessant teasing and his habits of making you so irritated you felt like you could slap him, wanted nothing more but to guide you in your sorcerer journey and took time out of his busy schedule to ensure that your skills were on par with the other students of the academy.

“If you want to be accepted, you need to be stronger than your peers,” he said as he deflected another of your punches once more, a grin on his face, “you can do better than that!”

Teacher!Gojo, whose attention on you makes people raise eyebrows and who always makes sure to check in on you in the middle of the night because he knows you don’t sleep well ever since he took you in. Teacher!Gojo, who leaves you vitamins and minerals as well as a few selections of his favorite desserts whenever your mind seems preoccupied and sad.

Teacher!Gojo, who one day came back from his mission, injured and bleeding, to find you with the medicine box, hands full with ointment and bandages, as you ordered him to sit down so you could treat him.

“I thought you were the best sorcerer of this century,” you muttered while pressing some ointment onto his wound. Gojo hissed, subconsciously pulling away as you pressed in closer, “what happened then? For you to be so careless?”

“Why? Are you worried about me perhaps, Y/N?” Gojo teased, though you could see straight past his facade.

“Yes,” you told him, eyes boring into his blue-eyes ones for a change because he’d ditched his mask, “I’m worried about you.”

Teacher! Gojo, who for some reason after this little incident, starts paying attention to you. He can’t fathom why someone like you would be worried about someone like him, causing his thoughts to wriggle with some kind of restlessness as the days go by. Teacher! Gojo, who realizes — after having watched you constantly — that you’ve grown into a young woman. A woman that seems to be able to hold her own. A woman that isn’t a child anymore.

“Tell me Nanami,” he one day asks his good friend as they’re having a smoke. It’s on the day of a barbecue celebration at the jujutsu academy and all students are currently pigging out on the meat and all kinds of delicacies, “what do you think of y/n?”

“What are you talking about?” Nanami asks.

Gojo hums in thought, his face void of all jokes and comedy for once as his blue eyes find your silhouette behind his mask a few yards away, “I don’t know. There’s something… it bothers me.”

Nanami’s face clouds in realization, “Satoru, she’s your student.”

“I’m well aware.”

“You’re her teacher. What will others say?”

Gojo looks at him, blue eyes narrowed in thought, “it’s not going to happen.”

“Then why even bother asking?”

Something in Gojo’s heart tugs in pain, “I don’t know.”

Teacher! Gojo, who seems even more attentive now; bringing you various flavours of milk after practice with the excuse that you look like the walking dead (he just wants an excuse to see you), who drags you along with him on supposed “missions” only for you to trudge down the roads of Tokyo and tasting every single flavor of mochi available. Who, during the school holidays when everyone goes back to their homes and you’re all alone in the dorm, decides to take you out on impulse and brings you one of his favorite ramen restaurants where the only person he’s been here with is Geto.

“Sensei,” you can’t help but ask him as you settle into your little booth, trying to gauge his expression with a mixture of confusion and doubt, “is there something wrong?”

“Now now y/n why would you think that?”

“Why are you taking me out to eat?”

“Can’t I treat my favourite student?”

“But you’ve never done that.”

“There’s a first for everything I suppose,” he wriggles his brows and leans towards you, “don’t you like it? I thought you’d be thrilled I’m finally taking care of you as I should.”

His words ring with an intonation that makes your eyes widen and you bite your lip, looking away as a blush suddenly takes over your face.

“You can’t say things like that sensei,” you finally are able to mutter out, “it’s— it’s not—appropriate.”

“Hm?” He leans in so suddenly that you lurch back, a yelp dying at the back of your throat when you realize you have no more space to move away, “what’s so inappropriate about it?”

Teacher! Gojo, who realizes that after that night, he might be right in thinking you have a crush on him. And so he teases you mercilessly; finding ways to brush against your personal space only to grin at the way you blush every single time, forcing you to spend extra time training so that he has an excuse to hold your shoulder, your forearm, sometimes your hand. Teacher! Gojo, who relishes in your reactions and thrives on them, going to sleep every night with your blushing face at the forefront of his mind.

Teacher! Gojo, who after an inkling of suspicion that you might have been assigned to a mission not catered to your level, decides to follow you only for his heart to drop when he realizes you’re walking straight into a trap. He jerks forward but is too late, for the cursed enemy has punched you so hard your body slams into the neighboring building.

Teacher! Gojo, who’s so angry the rage simmers around him like a current as he takes out the enemy without batting an eye and quickly scoops you up in his arms, for once turning off his limitless so that he feels your cold body against his warmth.

Teacher! Gojo, who stays at your side day and night until you finally wake up groaning from all your wounds and tends to you at your bedside, his face a mixture of tenderness and concern, something that you’ve never quite seen before and which makes your heart flutter with foreign feelings.

“Sensei, I’m okay really,” you say for the umpteenth time, only for him to press a strawberry to your mouth.

“Eat.” Is what he instructs.

“Don’t you have anything else to do apart from sitting by my bed tending to my wounds? I’m pretty sure megumi could—“

“No.”

Teacher! Gojo, whose peculiar behavior results in a lot of questions from the students themselves as they bombard you with questions about whether something has happened between the two of you, who accompanies you back to your dormitory once you look healthy enough despite your protests that someone might see, who just practically lifts you into his arms and carries you the rest of the way there as you flush a fire engine red, who doesn't hesitate to fuss over you and bring you hot piping tea before wrapping you in swaths of blanket.

"You really are acting weird sensei," you say as he finally takes a seat by your bedside, his mask on and his lips pressed into a firm, thin line, "I'm not on the brink of death, Not anymore anyway. You don't have to linger--"

"It was my fault," he replies, "so I'm staying until you get better."

"Sensei, I--"

"Gojo."

You blink, your mouth going dry, "w-what?"

Gojo’s mouth tilts up in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks away only to mumble out, “nothing.”

Teacher! Gojo, who can’t seem to resist you any longer on one random night when he’s watching you ramble about the lack of personal space that he’s been giving you, only to lose that slight bit of control left and grab your arm, jerking you over to him so that you fall into his lap with a cry before your lips are silenced by his.

Teacher! Gojo, who for once seems as flustered as you are when you pull back slowly from the kiss, eyes wide and looking like he’s grown another head.

“Wh—what—“

But Teacher! gojo doesn’t give you any time before he’s pulling you back to him, one hand on your nape and the other around your waist as he kisses you once more like his life depends on it. His arms around your waist, his tongue dancing with yours and his body pressed to yours

Teacher! Gojo, whose heart practically explodes in his chest when you kiss back hesitantly, pressing into him and causing him to groan in satisfaction because dear god it’s exactly what he’s been craving all this time.

Teacher! Gojo, who tells you that he apologizes but that he can’t for the life of him stay away from you. And that if you wish him gone he’ll just get out of your way.

Teacher! Gojo, who can’t help but blush when you surprise him with a gentle hug. His arms are frozen for a minute as he feels your face pressing into the crook of his neck, only to force himself to relax.

“No,” you tell him softly, the tiniest of mutters that makes his heart melt, “I—I like it. Actually sensei, I—I like you. Very much. A lot—“

Gojo can’t help but laugh as he reciprocates your hug and presses his jaw to the side of your head, “it’s Gojo,” he murmurs into your hair, “Gojo or Satoru for you, doll.”

[fairyofshampgyu]

Why do you hate me?

Pairing: class president! kai x stoner! reader

genre: smut, crack

warning: sub! kai x dom! reader, use of drugs, sex whilst high, riding, humping, semi public, nipple play, corruption kink (?)

word count: 1.5k

“As you all know there was a big fight that went viral and was shared across numerous platforms between two students last week.”

Everyone excitedly burst into chatter and giggles, talking about the fight between choi beomgyu and choi soobin when they had—more of a hair pulling fight—over beomgyu stealing soobin’s last strawberry drink and throwing it over the fence.

“Please don’t film these kinds of situations or spread them. We’ll be looking out for the main perpetrators who filmed and spread this. It’d be helpful if anyone had any information. We should all be upstanders not bystanders!”

The whole class not so subtly, stares at Kang Taehyun, the said culprit and who filmed the entire fight, dealing out the whole, ‘exclusive’ recording to see who actually won for $20. He appears nonchalant though, sitting in his seat upright and also looking around the classroom in shock, feigning innocence.

“The two students have been dealt with accordingly and will both be in seclusion until further notice. Oh! Also the last concern raised with the committee was the littering issue going round. Please make sure to not leave your food or litter around and clean up after yourselves!” Huening Kai stood at the front of the class, enthusiastically and confidently delivering his speech as class president.

The students erupted into cheers and claps and whistles for their adored class president. Everyone loved huening Kai. It was hard not to when he was so friendly and good looking, greeting everyone with a wide smile as he passed the corridors, most squealing over his charisma.

However, you were one not so fond of his sunny disposition. You didn’t like how he adhered and maintained the rules whilst you actively tried to break them. You found his cheeriness and enthusiasm and the way people fawned over him quite irritating in actuality.

You rolled your eyes, turning to talk to your other stoner friend Taeyong about how annoying the class president was.

“With how much you talk about huening Kai, I’d think you actually have a crush on him or something.” Taeyong raises one of his pierced brows.

“What? As if!” You let out an incredulous scoff.

“I’m just saying you talk way too much about how you dislike him, never for a plausible reason. It feels like you’re actually obsessed with him. Your enemies to lovers arc?” Taeyong snickers.

“That literally doesn’t make any sense.” You elbow him in disgust and go on to chatting and complaining about something else.

Huening kai had caught your eye roll after his speech as he sat back in his seat, frowning and becoming overridden with confusion and sadness. He knew you had never liked him and he just couldn’t wrap his head around why, wanting to fix things with you so badly if he could.

“Oh! Kai!” The teacher stops him in the middle of the hallway, exhaling a breath of relief after finally catching up. “I’m really busy now so as class president could you go and look into some of the students hiding and smoking behind the art block all the time? We need to actually deal with this problem of drugs in our school. Inspectors are coming in soon we need to look good and not have them walking in seeing students smoking.”

“Sure thing, miss!”

“And make sure you report back to me the names of students there. Thank you, Kai.”

Huening Kai sighs, teachers always loved to dump their issues and own work on himself using it as an excuse that he was the class president and giving him way too much responsibility than he should have. He practically did everything around here and it could get quite stressful being so relied on at times.

Kai follows the trail of smoke he can see to the hidden part behind the art block. Everyone should be in class right now so he wonders who it is that is smoking.

When he makes it there his eyes catch yours, the only person here and he must say, he’s not that surprised.

“You should be in class right now with everyone else, y/n.”

You roll your eyes and stare at him with disgust, “Wow it’s the class president ready to ruin the mood again.”

Kai frowns, face resembling that of a kicked puppy and looking back at you with a pout, “Why do you hate me so much, y/n? Did I do something? Is there any way I can fix it?”

Your mouth parts in surprise, taken a back by how genuinely upset he seems about it. You can feel a little pang in your heart seeing him this way, feeling like you have to immediately change it and you don’t know why.

“Uhh…I don’t-I don’t hate you, Kai. I just-you’re not my favourite person in the world.”

He seems more upset by that, bottom lip jutting out.

“Um! I mean…I don’t know…We’re just very different people”

“I don’t mean to make you feel so unequal. As class president-“

You groan, “Do you ever give that a rest? Don’t you ever get bored of that?”

“Actually, it does get quite tiring and stressful sometimes being so depended and admired on by everyone, thinking that I can do everything. I guess you never really have though.” Huening kai comes to sit on the bench with you.

You pause in thought, placing the joint to your lips again, “You know what would make you feel better?”

“What?”

“This.” You wavered the joint.

“I-I shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’ll make you feel good, no one’s around.”

Huening Kai contemplates it with a worried glance, eventually giving into the temptation of it. “O-okay…just to try though.”

Kai accepts the joint with trembling fingers, looking at you to see if he's doing it right and taking a puff before spluttering and coughing and you laugh a little.

It's not a long before the weed starts to kick in as you both take turns passing the joint and taking drags, laughter and giggles mingling with the smoke that curled and enveloped you both.

Caught up in the hazy euphoria, both your eyes meet, locking in a trance-like gaze and your eyes flicker down to his pretty lips for a second and he does the same until something comes over you and you can’t resist, quickly leaning in and cupping his cheek, smashing your lips with his.

Yeah, It’s the drugs. You’ve definitely never thought about this moment before.

You make out with kai in a frenzy that matches both your heightened state, soft lips moving against each other and you move to straddle his lap instead, causing him to look up at you in surprise. You grin before trailing the rough kisses on his neck instead and he can’t contain his embarrassed whimpers anymore, cheeks so hot and flushed as you caressed one of them.

You can feel him growing harder underneath you and you pull him closer, grinding against him.

“Y-y/n!” Kai yelps and gasps, scrunching his eyes shut at the feeling and contact of his dick.

You do it again, his reactions so amusing. With a particular rough roll of your hips, kai’s eyes roll deeply back, gripping onto your hips until he starts to chase it as well, hips moving of their own accord and rutting against you with his mouth agape.

Huening kai’s usual well articulated, spoken and composed self long gone, easily replaced with flushed cheeks and a mixture of stammering breaths and whimpers and moans as you both continuously grind and hump against each other.

In a rush you undo his pants, his flushed and thick cock springing out and kai shyly hides in the crook of your neck. You take his dick, pushing your panties aside and slowly sink down on him, kai biting at your neck and moaning out loud.

Slowly you ride him, having to cover his mouth with your hand from how obvious he was being as tears welled up in his eyes.

You lean to whisper against his ear, nibbling at it and thumbing over his impossibly red cheeks, “You’re such a good boy.” Which only spurs him more on and his muffled whines.

You deliriously bounce on his cock, sounds so sticky and obscene, removing your hand and attaching your lips with his again and drinking up all his noises, quickening your movements to get him to the edge, hands going up his buttoned shirt to roll your fingers over his pretty tits.

“t-think m’close…”

“Cum for me.”

And he moans even louder than he has, hands gripping on your shirt for dear life and head lolling back, body trembling as his cum spills in your pussy and you moan as well, both your eyes filled with a dazed satisfaction.

He rests his forehead with yours and pants heavily, you ruffling his hair as his eyes still flutter open and shut, suddenly taking in the weight of what just happened.

“I-I know shouldn’t have…b-but I liked it.” Huening kai sheepishly stutters, still breathing heavily.

You smile, sheen of sweat on your forehead and kiss him one more time, “Same.”

Huening kai decides not to report the person smoking behind the art block, instead finding himself frequenting there just to see you and smoke and make out, a secret new found place where he can relieve tension and stress.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s discouraging and sad when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨 Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write :) !

Taglist: @jayoonology @banggyu0308 @idontwantoeatspicy @lovelyhyuka14

[gingerteafairy]

butterfly effect (tate langdon x reader)

You've seen enough time travelling movies to know you would get out of this loop if you fix something and maybe this thing is stopping Tate from his destiny.

tags n warnings: angst, bullying, time travel, family issues, depression, murder house references, platonic relationship. word count: 5.2k. masterlist

April 1st, 2000, 8:00 PM

You step into the subway, hands buried deep in the pockets of your coat. Finding the nearest empty seat, you drop into it with a tired expression, the dark circles under your eyes betraying how desperately you needed rest. Your friend sits beside you, her cheerful smile seeming untouched by the exhausting day at work.

You close your eyes, hoping to catch a moment of peace, but your attempt is swiftly interrupted by sharp, boisterous noises. Groaning inwardly, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, already knowing what caused the commotion without needing to look: teenagers being loud and rowdy.

“What does a person have to do to get some peace?” you mutter irritably, cracking your eyes open and throwing a glare full of quiet disdain at the group of carefree teens.

“Talking about the school kids?” your friend chuckles at your annoyed expression, turning to glance at the teens herself. “Don’t be mad—they’re just like we were once.”

“Not like this.” You scowl, crossing your arms and sinking back into the seat.

She laughs, the sound carefree as she leans her head against the subway wall. “I kinda wish I was like them again… so happy. I liked school.”

“I didn’t,” you counter, shaking your head. Your gaze drifts to the ceiling as a faint heaviness settles in your chest. “It was all so confusing, so chaotic. We had hormones, college applications and rude teachers.”

“You sound ancient saying that—you’re 24. It wasn’t that long ago.” She teases, her grin infectious enough to tug a reluctant smile from you. “Let me guess, you were the quiet kid.”

“Not the quiet kid exactly,” you reply, your brow furrowing at the memory. “But I did deal with some bullying. That’s why I just wanted out.”

“Wow… I’m sorry about that,” she says softly, her playful tone replaced with genuine sympathy. She pats your shoulder warmly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, your lips twitching into a faint smile. “I had a few friends. Bonnie and Neil. They were really nice. We had some good times, too.” Your gaze returns to the teenagers, now practically climbing the walls in their excitement. “Yeah… every now and then, we were just like them.”

“There’s the confession we were waiting for,” she jokes, laughter bubbling out and pulling a chuckle from you as well.

“They got married, Neil and Bonnie. That's just so funny, they were like salt and pepper. Inseparable.” You remembered.

“This is awesome. One of my school mates is waiting for twins. Oh, time flies, isn't it?” 

“Yeah… There was one boy…” you begin, your voice trailing off. “He was the quiet one. I can’t remember his name anymore, but I found out later… he died. It was awful.”

“That’s terrible…” she murmurs, her gaze turning distant. “He must’ve been so sad.”

“He was,” you admit, your voice quieter now. You couldn’t remember his name, but one thing had stayed with you all these years: his eyes. They were deep, haunting, filled with a sorrow that felt older than the universe itself. “Sometimes I feel like I’m still 18.”

“It’s like we never really grow up,” she agrees.

The nostalgic conversation carries on until the subway screeches to a halt at your station. Together, you step off, parting ways with your friend as you begin the walk home.

The silence of the night envelops you, your thoughts turning inward. You sigh, gazing up at the sky, remembering how much you loathed high school. Life had improved dramatically since then, and yet…

You couldn’t help but wonder: what if you’d taken more chances? What if you’d made a fresh start or even saved a depressed teenager like yourself? But there’s no going back. Maybe you were okay with that. Maybe.

The sound of your alarm clock jolts you awake, and you groan, bracing for yet another monotonous day at work. As your mind clears, something feels… off. Your brows furrow, eyes blinking into focus as you realize your head is resting on a wooden desk—not your bed. You sit up abruptly, taking in your surroundings. Teenagers, vaguely familiar, bustle around the room, grabbing books and stuffing them into their backpacks.

“What the hell is this?” you murmur, disoriented.

“Aaaand guess who’s gonna be prom queen this year? Paris Hilton!” A familiar voice snaps you out of your daze. You turn, squinting at two faces you hadn’t seen in what feels like ages.

“Neil… Bonnie… Is that you?” A wide grin breaks across your face as you stand and pull your friends into a tight hug. “I missed you so much! Where have you been? You guys look exactly the same as in high school!”

“Uh… okay?” Bonnie chuckles nervously, pulling back with a bewildered look. “We saw you, like, five minutes ago. Are you drunk?”

“Drunk? She passed drunk hours ago, she's freaking high,” Neil teases, giving you a playful squeeze before stepping back. “Gimme some of this weed you're consuming, girl. Maybe I can gain courage to ask Bonnie out.”

“Stop it, you nuts. She's gonna say we will marry again someday.” She giggled, nudging him.

“Oh, we’ll definitely get married, shawty. Just wait for it.” He winked at her. “Anyway, in case you missed it—Paris Hilton, prom queen!”

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief.

“April Fools!” they laugh in unison, their teasing grins infectious as you blink at them in surprise.

“Come on, math class is starting,” Bonnie says, tugging on your arm.

“April Fools…” you echo softly, your brain racing to make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze lands on the calendar at the front of the classroom, and your heart nearly stops.

April 1st, 1994.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter under your breath.

Your hand flies to your hair—it feels different, lighter. You glance down at your outfit: a Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans you distinctly remember throwing away years ago. “I’m back in high school,” you groan, the weight of the realization sinking in.

“Man, she’s really out of it,” Neil comments with a laugh, shaking his head at your dazed expression.

You barely register his words, your body moving on autopilot as you follow your friends into the bustling hallway. The noise and chaos feel overwhelming, and before you can fully process it, someone slams into your shoulder, sending you stumbling to the ground.

“What the hell?” you snap, glaring up as a mocking laugh pierces the air.

“Oops,” the girl sneers, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Thought the janitor had already picked up the trash.” She laughs again, flanked by two other girls who mirror her smug expression.

Your eyes narrow as recognition dawns. Jade Beryl. The queen bee who made your life miserable.

Fury flares in your chest. You stand, brushing yourself off with deliberate slowness before locking eyes with her. “What’s your problem, Jade? Blind, or just plain stupid? If you need glasses, I can hook you up with a number. Might help you see past those dollar-store contacts you’re wearing. Seriously, fifty cents? Pathetic.”

The grin slips from her face, her confidence faltering for the first time.

“Looks like someone finally grew a backbone,” she mutters, throwing a nervous glance at her silent companions. She elbows them to follow her, but they remain rooted in place, stunned by your sudden boldness.

“Once trash, always—wait!” she yells after you, but you’ve already turned on your heel, marching toward your next class without a second glance.

“Dude, that was epic!” Bonnie beams, grabbing your arm as you push open the door to the classroom. “You totally owned her!”

You manage a small smile, but your mind is racing. What the hell is going on? How did you get here? And, more importantly, what are you supposed to do now that you’re back in 1994?

Neil laughs along with Bonnie. “It’s a shame we don’t sit together in this class.”

“Yeah, she’s paired with the weirdo,” Bonnie whispers, glancing around to make sure no one overheard her comment.

“Weirdo?” you ask, curious, adjusting the strap of your backpack.

“Tate Langdon,” she murmurs into your ear, and you freeze.

Tate. The boy you were partnered with back in school, the one whose life ended so tragically after the school shotting. You remember him as a quiet, sweet boy who rarely opened up. You’d always felt too shy to try and befriend him, too afraid of overstepping. He always sat alone and seemed so tired and sad.

Your legs seem to move on their own as you make your way to the back of the classroom, where he’s sitting alone, quietly reading a book. He doesn’t notice you at first, his focus completely absorbed by the pages. When you stop in front of him, he finally looks up, his expression unreadable.

“Hi, Tate,” you say with a polite smile. He tilts his head slightly, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Mind if I sit here with you?”

He hesitates, glancing between you and your friends, who are still staring from across the room. His brows knit together slightly before he murmurs, “I guess you’ve already completed the dare.”

“Dare?” you repeat, baffled. The weight of the moment feels almost crushing, as if the air around you has grown ten times heavier.

Tate sighs, closing his book and resting it on the desk. “Sometimes people come up to talk to me as part of some dumb truth-or-dare game.”

“Pffft. That’s so immature,” you blurt out, immediately regretting the words as they leave your mouth. You let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the moment. “Sorry, that… sucks.”

“Sucks?” he echoes, and to your surprise, he chuckles. His smile transforms his face, making him look younger and more carefree even with the eyebags. You can’t help but notice how good looking he is. Caught staring, you quickly sit down beside him, trying to regain composure. “Cool shirt.”

“Oh…” you smile, catching his shyness through the monotone voice. “Thanks, Tate. But you have a good set there. Normal people…”

“Normal people scare me.” He completes, slightly blushing at the corny t-shirt. “It 's a fact.”

“Totally.” You beamed with the opening, maybe being his friend wasn't as difficult as you thought “So… what are you reading?” you ask gently, determined to keep the conversation going.

“A book about birds,” he replies, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. He shows you the cover, and with a moment of hesitation, places the book on your desk. “You can read it if you want.”

“Thank you, Tate.” You smile, picking up the book as if it’s a piece of him. Opening to the first page, you skim through it, feeling a glimpse of the depth in his quiet personality. You remember how talented he was in literature, how he’d write the most hauntingly beautiful poems.

“I’ll read more when I get home. Can you give me your phone number so I can call you later?” The words slip out before you can stop them.

His reaction is immediate—he swallows hard, his eyes widening slightly as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. He looks at you, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Oh no,” you stammer, realizing how uncomfortable you’ve made him. “I didn’t mean to be pushy… we don’t even know each other that well. I’m just some random person who came up to you out of nowhere. I’m sorry!”

“It’s not that…” he mumbles, glancing at you from under his lashes. “It’s just… no one’s ever asked for my number before. I don’t even know it by heart.”

Your initial embarrassment fades into relief, and you laugh softly. “That’s okay…”

But to your surprise, he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small piece of paper. “I wrote the number down, my mom told me. I keep it in my bag,” he explains quietly, placing the paper on the desk.

You take it carefully, your fingers brushing his for a split second. “Thanks, Tate,” you say, your voice soft, your smile genuine.

For a moment, his lips quirk up again, and you realize this might be the beginning of a chance you never thought you’d have.

You carefully folded the small piece of paper and slipped it into your pocket, planning to call him later from home. Tate pulled out his math notebook, setting it on the desk with a hesitant expression, clearly struggling with something on the page.  

“Need help?” you asked instinctively, and he nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. You picked up the notebook and scanned the problem. “Holy fuck, what kind of demonic sorcery is this? I don’t remember math being this bad.”  

“You sound like my mom,” he chuckled quietly, his gaze softening. His laugh caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were reminded of the subtle age gap between you. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make this setting feel slightly surreal.  

“Well, looks like we’re just two idiots stuck figuring this out together,” you teased, letting out a dramatic sigh and giving yourself a playful facepalm.  

Tate smirked, shaking his head slightly. “Great, my only help probably doesn’t even know what two plus two is.”  

You gasped, feigning offense, then laughed at his unexpected sarcasm. He wasn’t anything like you remembered—or like the rumors you’d heard.  

“Alright, genius, let’s see you tackle this one.” You pointed to a particularly nasty equation, raising an eyebrow at him.  

“Nope, that’s all you, Einstein,” he shot back, arching an eyebrow.  

You clutched your chest in mock hurt, then grinned. “We should study at your place sometime. Might make this easier.”  

The lightness of the moment shifted instantly. His expression darkened, the shadow of something heavy crossing his face. His jaw tightened slightly, and the familiar pain and turmoil you remembered seeped into his features.  

“Okay,” he said shortly, his voice clipped. Realizing how abrupt he sounded, he cleared his throat and attempted a half-hearted smile. “Sorry… it’s just… my house is kinda… you’ll see.”  

You nodded slowly, sensing you’d touched on something sensitive. Maybe it was his home life. Maybe this was part of why things went so wrong for him.  

Before you could say anything more, the classroom door swung open, and Jade strutted in with her usual arrogance. Her eyes landed on the two of you, and her lips curled into a cruel smirk.  

“Well, well, the weirdo and the loser. What a perfect pair,” she sneered, raising an eyebrow.  

Tate’s jaw tightened again, his gaze fixed on the window as if willing himself to disappear.  

“Hey, is your home life so bad that you have to bring other people down just to feel better?” you snapped, standing from your chair.  

Jade faltered, her smirk wavering as her eyes flickered with uncertainty. “My life’s fine, thanks. Better than yours, clearly.”  

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you retorted, your tone sharp. “Truly good people don’t tear others down to lift themselves up.” You paused, softening slightly. “Look, I’m not trying to be mean. If you need help, I can help you. I know people like you usually have… complicated histories.”  

Jade’s expression froze, her confident demeanor cracking. For a split second, her fake blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she quickly brushed it off, straightening her posture and walking away briskly.  

You sighed, sitting back down, and noticed Tate watching you with his head resting on his hand. His lips curved into a faint, amused smile. “You’re… really weird.”  

You laughed nervously, smoothing your clothes and shrugging. “I just… know some things.”  

“Right.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his smile growing just a little.  

It wasn’t much, but it felt like a breakthrough. For the first time, you saw a glimmer of something lighter in his eyes, something that hinted at hope.  

The moment was interrupted as the teacher entered the room, starting the lesson. But as you turned to your notebook, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, you were changing things—one small moment at a time. You've seen enough time travelling movies to know you would get out of this loop if you fix something and maybe this thing is stopping Tate from his terrible ending. 

When class ended, you found yourself walking alongside Tate to his house. The building was grand and beautiful, with a timeless, antique charm. Yet, something about it felt wrong—like the air was thicker here, carrying an unshakable weight. The moment you stepped inside, the emptiness of the house struck you, but it didn’t feel like you were truly alone. A chill crept up your spine as if unseen eyes were watching.

“I’ll grab something real quick,” Tate said, disappearing down a hallway without waiting for a reply.

You stood there awkwardly, the silence pressing down on you. A strange urge pulled you toward the staircase. Slowly, you climbed the creaking wooden steps, each one groaning under your weight, amplifying the eerie stillness.

At the top, you found yourself in a long corridor lined with closed doors. You reached out to touch a doorknob, curious about the house’s secrets.

“That’s not Tate’s room,” a voice said suddenly, sharp and cutting through the silence.

You jumped, spinning around to see a tall woman with fiery red hair standing behind you. Her pale face and piercing gaze made your heart leap into your throat.

“I… I wasn’t—” you stammered.

“His room is that one,” she interrupted, pointing to a door further down the hall. Without another word, she turned and descended the stairs, disappearing into the shadows below.

You swallowed hard, your unease growing. The house seemed to pulse with its own life, every corner shrouded in an unexplainable darkness.

Taking a shaky breath, you moved to the door she had pointed out. You opened it cautiously and stepped inside. The room immediately screamed Tate. Posters of grunge bands lined the walls, stacks of CDs and books were scattered across the shelves, and the air smelled faintly of incense.

Your gaze was drawn to the desk, where a pile of papers sat. You stepped closer, your fingers brushing over the edges of handwritten notes. They were poems—raw, emotional, and hauntingly beautiful. As you leaned in to read one, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

Before you could react, a sudden presence loomed behind you. A hand covered your eyes, and you let out a startled scream, spinning around to find Tate standing there, grinning mischievously.

“Boo! Did I scare you?” he teased, his smile laced with a boyish charm.

“You scared me a lot! What the hell, Tate?” You pushed his shoulder lightly, your heart pounding as you tried to calm yourself.

“Sorry,” he said, though the glint in his eye betrayed his amusement. He plopped down onto the floor, motioning for you to join him. “I just couldn’t resist.”

“You’re such a dork,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help but laugh. Still, the tension in your chest hadn’t fully dissipated. Something about this house lingered, heavy and oppressive.

As you sat across from him, your gaze inadvertently dropped to his wrists. Faint scars crisscrossed his pale skin, and a lump formed in your throat.

“You can ask,” Tate said softly, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

You snapped your eyes back to his face, feeling a rush of guilt for staring. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, offering a small, almost fragile smile. “I can tell you the stories behind them if you want.”

“You don’t have to… if it makes you uncomfortable,” you said gently, returning his smile in an attempt to ease the tension.

He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. 

The room fell into a quiet lull, but the weight of that unspoken conversation lingered. Despite the unease that clung to the house like a shadow, sitting here with Tate felt like the beginning of something—something that might just change everything.

"You… tried to kill yourself?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, cutting through the silence like a knife.  

Tate looked down at the scars on his wrists, his fingers brushing over them unconsciously. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the weight of the truth.  

"Once," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt like a burden was being lifted off his shoulders, like he was letting someone in for the first time. "I took a bunch of pills, and, well… it didn’t work. I remember thinking, ‘Fuck, I can’t even do this right.’”  

You let out a small laugh at his dark humor, but your worry lingered beneath it. "I’ve… felt that way before too. I tried to kill me once, but I stopped.” 

"Why?" he asked, his tone curious but gentle.  

"I don’t know," you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest. "Mostly family stuff. I’ve got some serious daddy issues, you know? And then there’s school… the bullying…"  

"But you totally owned that girl today," he pointed out with a small smirk.  

"Not always," you admitted, your voice softer now. "It used to really get to me."  

"Well, you’ve changed," he said firmly, meeting your eyes. "You’re strong now. Strong enough that nothing can break you."  

The words hit you in a way you didn’t expect. You’d never really stopped to think about how far you’d come.  

"Why did you say that about your house?" you asked, changing the subject gently.  

He leaned back, his arms wrapping around his knees. "Mostly because of my family," he admitted, his tone dropping. "My mom’s… well, she’s a bit crazy. Major mommy issues."  

"Looks like we’re a perfect match," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.  

"But I feel like my family is stranger than most," he added, his expression growing serious again.  

"Aren’t all families strange?" you teased, and he chuckled softly. But there was still something heavy in his gaze.  

"I think mine’s… worse," he murmured, almost to himself. Then, after a moment, he looked back at you, his expression unreadable. "Fun fact: this house is haunted."  

"Haunted?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Like a horror movie?"  

"Worse," he said with a straight face, leaning in slightly. "The difference is… this one’s real."  

"Oh, of course," you laughed, rolling your eyes.  

"I’m serious," he insisted, but there was a flicker of amusement in his expression.  

"Right," you said sarcastically, crossing your arms.  

Tate clicked his tongue, sitting back with a small smirk. "Don’t worry, though. I’ll protect you."  

"My hero," you said, laughing at the absurdity of being "protected" by an 18-year-old boy. He laughed too, the sound soft but genuine.  

The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that—about the oddities of his house, the nightmare that was high school. By the time the day ended, you felt like you’d seen a completely different side of Tate. He wasn’t the boy everyone whispered about; he was kind, complicated, and surprisingly funny.  

Later that night, you couldn’t help but worry about him. You dialed his number just to make sure he was okay, but no one picked up. Maybe it was too late. Even Tate Langdon needed to sleep eventually.

The alarm clock blared again, dragging you reluctantly from sleep. Groaning, you sat up, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Relief washed over you as you scanned your room. It was familiar—your apartment, your life. Everything seemed normal again.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you checked the date.

April 2, 2000. 

“So, it was all just a dream,” you muttered with a faint smile, a serene expression softening your features. You got up, shaking off the lingering haze, ready to face another day at work.

At the station, you met your colleague, who greeted you with her usual cheerful smile. The world felt steady again, routine and predictable. Yet, deep down, a small, stubborn part of you wished that dream had been real. That Tate hadn’t died. That he was still out there somewhere, and maybe—just maybe—you two could have been friends.

“I’ll take the next train,” your friend said suddenly, glancing at her watch. “I need to stop by somewhere first.”

You nodded, watching her walk off in the opposite direction. Shrugging, you turned your attention back to the arriving train. Today was important—you couldn’t afford to be late.

Once inside, you scanned the carriage for a seat. Your usual spot was free… almost. A tall man stood near it, engrossed in a book, large headphones covering his ears. He seemed so absorbed in his own world that you hesitated, unsure of how to approach.

“Excuse me, can I sit here?” you asked politely.

He didn’t respond. You tried again, louder this time, but he remained oblivious. Mustering a bit more courage, you lightly tapped his shoulder.

The moment he turned to face you, your breath caught in your throat.

“Fuck,” he squeaks, blinking in surprise as if he’d seen a ghost. He quickly removed his headphones, his piercing eyes locking onto yours.

“I'm so sorry. Shit you were on headphones. Did I scare you—” you began, but your words faltered as you truly saw him.

It couldn’t be.

“I think that’s the first thing I said to you when you came to my house,” he said, a faint laugh escaping his lips. “But… I guess you don’t remember me.”

Your knees felt weak. That voice. That laugh. The same sharp eyes, the familiar golden curls.

“Tate?” you whispered, your heart racing.

A knowing smile spread across his face, and you stepped closer, unable to believe it. It was him. Tate Langdon. The same boy you thought you’d never see again.

“Tate, oh my God,” you breathed, pulling him into a hug before you could stop yourself.

He froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but then he hugged you back, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

“You’re alive,” you murmured, almost in disbelief. “You’re really here.”

He laughed softly, stepping back just enough to look at you. “Yeah, alive and kicking. Sorry if I made it seem otherwise.”

“What happened?” you asked, sitting down beside him, still stunned.

He sighed, leaning back slightly. “After our conversation that day, I packed up and left. Same day you left my house. I didn’t even think twice about it. I grabbed what little savings I had, took the first train out of town, and came to New York. No goodbyes, no looking back. I just… I had to leave all the bad behind. That town, that house, my parents…”

You nodded, hanging onto his every word.

“So that’s why you didn’t answer my call,” you murmured, the pieces falling into place. It all made sense now—why your phone call went unanswered, why he seemed to vanish without a trace.

“I had to disappear for a while,” he admitted, glancing out the window as if the memory was still fresh. “But it was the best thing I could’ve done. I needed to start over.”

Looking at him now, you could see the difference. Tate seemed lighter, freer—his smile was genuine, his laughter no longer tinged with sadness. He was still the quiet, thoughtful boy you remembered, but the weight he carried back then seemed to have lifted.

You couldn’t help but smile, a bittersweet feeling swelling in your chest. Tate had survived, and he’d made it out. Somehow, against all odds, he’d found his way to a better life. And now, as if by fate, you’d found him again.

"I got this terrible job at McDonald's..." Tate chuckled, lost in the memory as he stared ahead. "Got fired, of course, but eventually landed a spot working at a record store."

"That’s a much better fit for you," you teased, grinning at him.

"Yeah... but can you believe I got fired from McDonald's for putting pickles on the wrong sandwich?" He turned to you with an exaggerated look of disbelief.

"Honestly, it sounds fair. A lot of people hate pickles."

"You're supposed to be on my side!" he protested, feigning indignation.

You laughed, but his tone shifted to something softer. "Still, it was for the best. I met the manager at the record store after that, and we really hit it off. He told me I might even be promoted to manager someday."

"Tate, that's amazing!" you said, beaming with genuine pride.

"Eh, maybe. But sometimes I see a Nirvana record and feel this weird sadness," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "You know Kurt Cobain died just days after we talked about him back then? I haven’t been able to listen to Nirvana since."

"Seriously?" you asked, tilting your head in surprise.

"Not once," he nodded, his tone serious. "But I do listen to Foo Fighters now. Dave Grohl was the drummer, so... it feels like keeping a small piece of Kurt alive."

You laughed softly, leaning back against the subway wall. "I’m really glad I ran into you today, Tate."

"Don’t say that like we won’t see each other again," he said, pouting playfully as he mimicked your position. "This time, I’m not disappearing or leaving the city. You’re stuck with me now."

His words struck a chord, filling your chest with a bittersweet warmth. You squeezed his hand, trying to blink away the sudden tears welling in your eyes.

"Thank you, Tate," you whispered.

"No," he said, clasping your hand tightly with both of his. "Thank you. In fact, as a proper thank-you for being my friend back then, I’m giving you a record from your favorite band."

After work, you couldn’t resist checking out his record store. The moment you walked in, you were greeted by the scent of vinyl and the warm glow of nostalgia. Tate waved at you from behind the counter, his hair slightly disheveled as he rang up a customer.

“Give me a sec!” he called, motioning for you to look around.

You browsed the aisles, running your fingers along the spines of old and new records until you stumbled upon a display of Foo Fighters albums. Grinning, you picked one up and walked back to the counter just as Tate finished.

“You’ve got good taste,” he joked, taking the record from you. “But this one’s on me.”

“Tate, you don’t have to—”

“Ah, ah, ah! It’s my thank-you gift, remember?” He held up a finger, his grin mischievous.

“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes playfully. “But only if you recommend something new for me to listen to.”

He brightened at the challenge, quickly disappearing into the shelves and returning with an album you’d never seen before.

“This one. Trust me, you’ll love it,” he said confidently, sliding it into a bag along with your Foo Fighters pick.

“Guess I have homework now,” you said, laughing as you grabbed the bag.

“See you soon?” he asked, leaning casually on the counter.

“Count on it,” you said, smiling as you headed out the door. “And Tate…”

“Yeah?”

“I still listen to Nirvana.” You chuckled, stepping out and missing Tate's laughing, shaking his head as he came back to work on his discos. 

[munson-blurbs]

Hurt People

This is just me giving an accurate depiction of what would most likely happen if Eddie Munson was real and went to high school with me. I’m sad tonight.

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, insults, bullying

WC: 718

—

You don’t know how you didn’t see it coming. Maybe it’s because he’s Eddie, the boy—young man, really—thrust into the fringes of society because of his affinity for metal music and fantasy games. Maybe it’s because you’d assumed outcasts, loners, losers, looked out for one another. Or maybe you were just delusional, rose-colored glasses shielding you from what you couldn’t, wouldn’t see.

You and Eddie don’t have any classes together, with you electing to take honors classes and him struggling with introductory courses. You’d never judged him for it, never thought less of him because of it; some people’s talents lay outside of academia. Rumor has it that he’s a decent guitar player, though your parents’ strict rules forbid you from checking out a gig. Truly, you don’t know much about him except that he’s on his third round of senior year and, in your opinion, is the cutest guy at Hawkins High.

The opportunity to befriend him presents itself in the unassuming form of Honor Society volunteer hours. Mrs. O’Donnell needs someone to tutor Eddie in chemistry so she can get him the hell out of her class, and you eagerly offer to be his teacher. Quiet afternoons together in the library might lead to secrets whispered, kisses shared…

The first tutoring session is…fine. Eddie’s completely disinterested in the material, which is to be expected. You keep drawing his attention back to the lab report he’s supposed to be writing, trying to maintain your composure as your patience wears thin.

When he’s barely accomplished anything at the end of the hour, you tell him to meet you back in the study room tomorrow after school.

“You need to hand this in on time,” you say softly but firmly. “Don’t wanna lose points for late work.”

He grumbles as he grabs his tin lunchbox and carelessly shoves the lab report into his backpack, not even saying goodbye.

The next day, you muster up the courage to approach his lunch table. You’ve got your old chemistry study guides clenched in your fists; the idea is to offer them to him so he doesn’t have to reference his own scribbled notes for his upcoming quiz. Just a casual, “hey, I figured you could use these.” Yeah, that could work.

You’re ten feet away when you hear his boisterous laugh. “Oh, and get this,” he’s saying to his friends, “she wants me to study again with her today! Like yesterday wasn’t bad enough.”

“Dude,” one of his buddies chuckles, sympathetically shaking his head and clapping his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “it’s just your luck that the one girl crushing on you happens to be the ugliest girl in the school.”

Your blood runs cold, nerves buzzing in anticipation of Eddie’s response. Surely he’ll tell the guy that he’s gone too far, that poking fun at your appearance is uncalled for.

But Eddie just gives him the finger and replies, “tell me about it. And now I gotta sit there while she makes heart-eyes at me, unless I wanna face O’Donnell’s wrath. Again.”

Tell me about it. Tell me about it. Tell me about it.

There’s no defending you, no sense of irritation with his friend’s statement. It’s pure, unfiltered agreement.

You’re the ugliest girl in school, and even Eddie Munson thinks so.

Tears blur your vision as you make a beeline out of the cafeteria, dumping your papers in the nearest trash can. You’re sorry you wasted your precious time digging them up. Humiliation seeps into your skin. It doesn’t matter if no one else heard him, because you did. And the information isn’t novel to you—you’re not Chrissy Cunningham or Nancy Wheeler, not by a longshot. No, you’re embarrassed because you’d deluded yourself into thinking that Eddie could see you in a way that others didn’t, in a way that you simply couldn’t.

A large part of you hoped that Eddie would see your status as a fellow freak and applaud you for it, welcome you into his group, take you under his wing. That seems like a pipe dream now.

It’s like that old cliche: hurt people hurt people. Maybe if you were bravier—bitchier, even—you’d hurt him back. But for now, you’re too tired from dragging around the burden of your existence.

Hurt will have to wait another day.

—

[zyonsay]

hi z!!

could you please do a lando request??

the reader is afab and they’re pronouns are they/he and maybe he (the reader) is just having a bad day because, first of all they just woke up in a crappy mood because they’re feeling dysphoric (and i know i get cranky like hell when this happens) and then they see hate comments like purposely misgendering the reader in lando’s comment section!!

and then lando both kinda goes off on twitter about it, while comforting reader just talking about how he’s the best boyfriend/partner

(that’s all i have take it from here😭😭)

btw you’re one of the few writers that i know off that do male!readers

OH and i saw how it said to say if the afab/amab is a big thing, so YES him being a afab is a big deal to the story!!

LOVE YOU POOKIE💗💗

Love you, no matter what LN4

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: Dysphoria sucks ass

Warnings: Queerphobia, Slurs: Tr@nny/f@g

Now playing: 'Blonde Chaya sped up' by Amaru & Gringo Bamba

AN: Hey there pookie! Thank you so much for this request!! I also get cranky asf when im dysphoric. ok well admittedly, im always cranky . But anyways! I made some teeny tiny changes and i hope that's alright! Love you!

Fun Fact of the day: My biology teacher is a skinwalker

(i'll rage if there isn't a brit shaped present under the tree by the 24th)

A loud, irritated groan left your figure as you fought with nothing in particular. That was a lie. You fought with yourself right now.

The t shirt clung to your figure because of the cold sweat you woke up in and your hair was an absolute mess. The spot next to you on the bed was empty, you knew that your most loved one was probably on a stream.

Scrambling from the bed you passed the long mirror on the bedroom wall; another irritated huff left you. That feeling of being trapped in the wrong body snaked up your leg and pierced you right in your heart. Maybe a cup of hot tea or coffee will cheer you up.

You passed the office, hearing a loud groan from withing, followed by your boyfriend’s voice, explaining how unfair it was for him to get shot ten seconds after joining the game.

The water boiler hummed loudly as you sat on the barstool by the kitchen island, slumped over like a sad little bag of potatoes. You also felt like one. Yet another groan erupted from the office, making you think of something. Quickly fetching your phone from the pockets of your shorts, you opened Whatsapp and sent Lando a quick text. It was almost comical how you could hear him talk to his audience about you.

“My lovely boyfriend just asked if I wanted some tea!”, he giggled like a giddy child. Brits and their tea. He sent you a text back, telling you he’ll be in the kitchen in a few minutes, he just wanted to wrap the stream up.

Then his eyes landed on a username consisting of various numbers and letters. ‘Ew bro, you still dating that f@g? Thought u moved on lolz’ The blood in his veins froze and he felt the anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. Another one popped up, this time from a different viewer. ‘OMG WAIT is it that Tr@nny he once showed lmao, Lan you can do better smh’ And with that a stream of vile words erupted as the strangers on the other side of the screen began vomiting senseless hate. ‘No fucking way. I bet y’all a million bucks that I’d be a less embarrassing wag lol’

What he had missed in this mess of hate comments was that ‘y/n.02’ had joined the stream and saw the hateful words through teary eyes. You clutched your phone with a desperate grip as you sobbed.

“Y’all need to fucking grow up and accept it. I love my boyfriend.” was all he said before swiftly clicking ‘end stream’ and rushing out of the office. He found you with glistening tears streaming down your face and a red, sniffling nose. Immediately, Lando threw his arms around you, pulling you up from the barstool and into a tight hug. “Don’t listen to them darling”, his voice was sweet and almost as quiet as the breath you let out after that. His T shirt was soaked with your tears, but he couldn’t care less. “I love you so fucking much. And nothing can change that. You’re the best damn thing that happened to me.”, his big, gentle hands rubbed your back and traced patterns over your t shirt.

Lando pulled away and looked you intently in the eyes. He closed the distance between you two and embraced you in a sweet, loving kiss.

“Let’s drink some tea baby.”, Brits and their fucking tea.

[jokertrap-ran]

BAD MEDICINE ~Infectious teachers~ [PC GAME] Kashu Remu (Chemistry) Route Translations (Bad END)

MC’s name is retained as the original MC name Kawana Hina.

* Words within ' ' are spoken in English – *Spoiler free : Translations under cut! *T/N: Fair warning: It's pretty messed up. Angst, anyone?

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Bad END

— Shortly after that… He’s brought me to a place. A forest far out from the city.   It was deserted, of course. A place shaded by the trees… A place where the sun couldn’t really reach.   That was where he brought me to.

———————————————

Hina: Um… Sensei? Where are we going?

Kashu: It’s just up ahead.

Kashu: …

Hina: (What should I do now? Would talking help?)

Hina: Um… It’s getting dark outside.

Kashu: …

Hina: S-Sensei? Can I ask you something?

Kashu: What?

Hina: What are you planning on doing in a place like this…?

Kashu: I wonder?

Hina: Oh, are you going to conduct an experiment, perhaps?

Kashu: Perhaps.

Hina: Erm… Kashu-sensei?

Kashu: …You’re being awfully noisy.

Kashu: If you really want to know, then let me show you!

Hina: Wha-!?

Hina: (Huh…!?)

Kashu: …

Hina: Sensei…?

Kashu: Shut up…

Hina: Let… me…

Kashu: Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!

Hina: Pl… ea… se…

Hina: (Is he mad with me? Why? Is that why he’s strangling me?)

Hina: (But if he’s truly that mad, then does he look like he’s about to cry?)

Hina: (…Why? I have so many things I want to ask him, but why is my voice not working?)

Hina: Wh… y…?

Kashu: …

Hina: Wou… ld… you…

Kashu: I would like to know too. Why would I?

Kashu: I don’t know, because I can’t understand it either. I just get so irritated whenever I see you.

Hina: Urk…

Kashu: It never got better. No matter how much time passed. Even if I never saw you. And it only made me angrier.

Kashu: But, seeing you also frustrated me. It felt almost as if my heart was being forced to waver.

Kashu: It hurt, it stung, and it made it hard to breathe.

Kashu: I just had to forget about you, didn’t I? But I couldn’t get my mind off you no matter how hard I tried.

Kashu: I wanted to keep my focus on my experiments, but thoughts about you always got in the way. It’s a real nuisance.

Kashu: This reaction of mine is foreign. It disgusts me. And I cannot keep on living like this.

Kashu: So, in order to treat this affliction of mine… It seems like I’ll simply have to rid this world of your existence.

Hina: …Ngh…

———————————————

Kashu: So, disappear. Please, go away. I’m begging you.

Kashu: I can’t stand suffering like this anymore.

Kashu: It’s much better being alone in this world!

Kashu: Hey, won’t you return me to how I usually am? You’re the one who made me like this. So, tell me. Will I go back to how I was?

Kashu: If I can’t, then tell me. How can I free myself from this frustration I feel?

Kashu: Do I have to delete you from this plane of existence after all? Tell me… TELL ME!

Hina: (…Huh. So that was what was bothering him.)

Hina: (He’s a teacher, yet it’s almost as if he’s still a child. One that’s throwing a tantrum to his parents because he’s unable to express his feelings properly.)

Hina: (But, I guess that checks out. This is the first time he’s starting to have feelings for someone else, so I suppose it’s the same thing to him.)

Hina: …

Kashu: …!?

Hina: (I can no longer speak, but…)

Hina: (There may be something else I can do to put him at ease.)

Hina: (Just a little more… Move, hand. Work with me a little… A little while… Just enough to embrace him. That's all I ask for.) 

Kashu: Why…?

Hina: Ha… a…

Kashu: Why…? WHY!?

Hina: (Don't cry. You'll get over it eventually.)

Hina: (It's alright even if it hurts. Because… you're not alone.)

Hina: (So don't go saying such sad things like how you're better off alone…)

———————————————

In reality, I'd wanted to convey this to you through words.  But, I couldn’t.　

———————————————

Kashu: …

Kashu: …Heh.

Kashu: …Ahh. Now, I am finally free.

Kashu: I can focus on my experiments, and nothing else, just as I did before.

Kashu: Right? …Right?

———————————————

Kashu: Why… Why do I still…

Kashu: I should have been freed now that you're gone, but why does it still…

Kashu: …Why…?

Kashu: Hey… What should I do about this? Tell me… what should I do…?

Kashu: ANSWER ME!

Kashu: Someone… Anyone…

Kashu: Please…

Kashu: Save me…

[fizzigigsimmer]

Moonwood Part 3

|&lt;<Part One|

Steve tries to avoid Billy at school, but Billy just seems to be everywhere. Steve will cut through a different hallway or deliberately hang back in one class before heading to his next just to limit his chances of running into Billy, and yet half the time he’ll run into Billy anyway.

Sometimes Billy will be hanging out next to some lockers with other moonwood guys - it’s weird but Steve can recognize them just by how big they all are - and sometimes he sees Billy leaving a classroom door with his arms slung over a blushing girl’s shoulders and his stomach twists. It’s because of the way Billy always looks at Steve - his gaze always seems to find Steve no matter what he is doing or who he is with, and burn - like he wants to eat Steve alive.

The one place Steve can’t avoid Billy is history class, which they share and have the bad luck of being alphabet buddies in the seating arrangement. Steve’s never been a good student to begin with, but it’s even harder to focus with Billy breathing down his neck. Billy is going out of his way to intimidate Steve and it doesn’t take Steve long to see it. If he gets there before Steve Billy will put his feet in Steve’s chair or up on his desk, and act like he can’t see Steve just trying to get to his seat in peace.

An irritated, “Hey, you wanna move?” from Steve the first time it happens earns him a lazy shrug and a, “Nope” popped from between Billy’s pink lips. 

He made a mistake the first day looking toward the door as the teacher shuffled in with her nose in a steaming mug and her glasses crooked on her nose. Even though she’s on the frumpy side and obviously raises cats for fun, Steve can’t believe how unbelievably cocky Billy is when he laughs and goes, “You’re shitting me. You think Mrs. Samuals is gonna save you? That’s sad even for a pipsqueak.”

So now Steve doesn’t even bother with formalities. When he walks into history and sees Billy's dirty combat boots propped up on his desk, or in his seat, he just shoves them off and does his best to ignore Billy taunting him the rest of class.

“I’m doing you a favor Princess. We gotta build up those arms.”

Billy’s mouth is not the most frustrating thing about him. Billy making mean comments about Steve’s answers when he’s unfortunate enough to get called on is one thing. Steve’s no brainiac and if Billy wants to joke that he’s got nothing between his ears, it’s nothing Steve hasn’t heard before. 

Steve could handle it if all Billy wanted to give him was lip. What he can’t handle is the way that after a week of Billy’s stupid nicknames - Princess, Pretty Boy, and Pipsqueak are his favorites - he’s started to forget that he’s not those things. 

Two weeks of Billy shoulder checking him in the hallways, and slapping him on the back hard enough to rattle Steve’s teeth after making some comment that just highlights how much bigger and stronger Billy is in comparison, and Steve actually starts to feel small.

Steve has his share of problems like any teenager but he’s not used to feeling vulnerable or small. Like something hunted in the forest with the fear of death hanging over him. He’s honest with himself. He realizes he’s always been the guy doing the hunting, and that he probably owes a lot of people back in Hawkins some apologies. This feeling SUCKS; but Hawkins is in the past and there’s nothing he can do about it. All he wants to do is survive the next year, and he’s sure as hell not going to spend it looking over his shoulder and running from his own shadow. Fuck that.

Basketball tryouts are on Friday at the end of his third week, right before the big bonfire. That Monday Steve starts to seriously toy with the idea of going for it. Billy wants to be an asshole, then let him be an asshole. Two can play that game.

Despite Billy’s obvious animosity towards Steve, it’s only really Billy who gives Steve shit at school.  

The first week a couple of guys from moonwood tried shoving him into a locker and picking up the whole “pipsqueak” thing, but they weren't expecting Steve to fight back or for Randy and Chet to come to his rescue and even out the fight. To be fair, Steve wasn’t expecting Chet to stick up for him either because he’s Billy’s best friend and co-captain of the basketball team. 

There’s no way Chet hasn’t gotten the memo that Steve is on Billy’s shit list. But Steve figures Chet must be more mature and realizes that this highschool drama bullshit doesn’t really matter now, and definitely won’t matter to most of them in a year. Good for Chet. He wishes some of his chill would rub off on Billy.

After realizing that Steve isn’t afraid to throw a punch and that calling him names isn’t going to stop him from scoring with the girls they wish they could score with, the other moonwood guys get the memo that Steve’s not an easy kill and seem content to sit back and wait for Billy to do it for them. But thankfully Billy doesn’t try anything harder with him than a shoulder bump and a few dark promises when he’s warning him away from some girl like they’re in a cheap gangster movie. For now he seems fine with his verbal warnings but Steve’s not betting on that holding forever.

Girls are the one area of Steve’s life that doesn’t feel like it’s been turned upside down. He’s shiny and new to the Schiller girls who think he’s some kinda badass for moving to Moonwood and spending his summer hiking in the woods. He knew the national forest is populated with several protected wolf packs, but he’s surprised by how many of the girls have stories about some dumbass who wandered off the public trails and got eaten by the local wildlife. It sounds like simple cause and effect to him, but he supposes it’s more fun to blame it on werewolves.

Anyway he’s a pussy magnet with the Schiller girls because he slept in a tent in the woods a few times, and the Moonwood girls love him because he’s new and he isn’t peeing his pants over Billy giving him shit. 

As Sasha puts it, Steve’s got balls, but he’s not a meathead who thinks a fingerbang under the boardwalk is romance. He listens first to them complain about their parents, their boyfriends, and all the bullshit expectations adults like to heap on teenagers, and then he asks for permission to feel them up. Plus he likes making them laugh. 

They call him cute. Steve’s eighteen-years-old and officially a grown ass man, but to Sasha and the volleyball girls he’s “Stevie-doll”. Steve’s not sure when the Moonwood girls decided he was their doll but Steve’s not as dumb as he looks. 

Any situation that ends with him having the baddest women he’s ever known fighting over who gets the prime cuddle spot is a good situation. The trouble of course with the girls deciding that Steve’s their new best friend and revenge fling all rolled into one is the way it pisses off other guys. Especially the moonwood guys. Randy was not kidding about how territorial they are over “their” girls. It’s kinda messed up actually the way they act like this is the 50s or something and the girls can’t think for themselves. Steve sticks up for the girls cause it’s the right thing to do, but he knows it’ll be trouble before too much longer if something doesn’t change.

It’s crazy but he still wants to try out for the basketball team. Maybe there’s just something in Steve that can’t back down from a challenge or maybe it’s the weird way Steve still feels drawn to Billy despite everything. He doesn’t know why it became a fight and what the rules are, he just knows he doesn’t want to back down from this one.

When Steve tells Sasha what he’s planning he’s expecting her to warn him off it, but he’s surprised when she and the other girls smile and share secretive looks.

“I’m sure you’ll do great, and the guys on the team are really solid. They’d be a good pack for you.”

Steve thinks that’s a very strange way for her to put it. It’s not the first time that Steve has heard that word tossed around casually when the subject of making friends comes up. His grandparents and his aunt do it all the time. But Sasha is so much younger than them, and yet she still refers to the rest of the girls on the team as her “pack”. 

Steve thought it was a joke when they called him an honorary member and made him promise not to let any of the guys steal him away. But he can tell they’re serious now about Billy and Chet and the other basketball guys being good for him.

It weirds him out a little if he’s honest. A lot of things about Moonwood are weird that he has sort of ignored because his head was still spinning from the divorce and his life changing faster than he could take a breath sometimes. But things are slower now and Steve’s noticing more things.

Like how much bigger everyone in Moonwood is. They’re not freakishly big like giants or anything. If he’d met any one of his new neighbors back in Hawkins he wouldn’t have thought anything of it at all. But when they’re all together it’s noticeable that they’re different from the rest of the kids at Schiller High. It’s like someone moved the baseline up a notch without telling him.

He’s started to wonder if the additional height and the muscle is genetic because he hears other people in Moonwood speaking in Lythan, even though it took him a while to pay enough attention to recognize it. Steve realizes there must have been more immigrants than just his ancestor when he came to this country and that there’s a story there. He starts to wonder why he’s never heard it. Why his mom has never told him anything about her side of the family at all. 

When they were estranged that was one thing, but they’ve been here for months and Steve still has so many questions. When he gets home from school that Thursday before try-outs he decides to confront her and get some answers.

Steve’s mom is tall, like a model, with legs and arms that go for miles, and enough glossy hair for a shampoo commercial. He’s never thought of her as ‘big’ or ‘unusual”. At least not before he walks in on her and his aunt repainting the downstairs den, and realizes neither one of them have to use a ladder or a step stool to reach the ceiling with their rolling brushes.

Steve’s dad used to get on his mom a lot about her looks all the time. He expected her to always be the same gorgeous girl he met that one summer between highschool and college and she accommodated him. Steve blinks at her, noticing a lot of things for the first time since they moved to Moonwood.  

She’s gotten tan, and she’s stopped waxing and plucking the way she used to - Steve absolutely gets his hairiness from her side of the family. She's also started to fill out some with all of his grandmother’s cooking. She looks bigger.

She looks happier. Happier than he’s seen her in ages. Robust even. He used to be so worried about her being too thin, skipping meals, and crash dieting all the time, that his perspective of her has been skewed for years.

She is not a small woman. Maybe Steve only ever saw her that way because she was with his dad, who needed her to be. The realization makes him sad, but also suddenly furious. He wants to punch his dad so hard in the face he can feel it like an itch. 

The feeling comes on so strong it kinda scares him and he sucks in a breath. That’s when his mom and aunt Julie finally notice he’s watching them from the doorway.

“Oh! Steve. Hi pippin, I didn’t realize you were home.”

Steve’s mom used to call him that when he was really little, until his dad made her stop. She blinks a little at Steve, realizing at the same time that he does what has just slipped out of her mouth.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I know you’re too big for that now.” 

Steve decides his questions can wait. He just wants to keep seeing her happy.

“It’s fine. What’s for dinner?” he asks with a smile and when she beams at him, he knows he made the right decision.

[Part 4]

Friendly Tags for those who expressed interest: @darleenjade @sweetwaterangel @dragonflylady77 @natchula @tip-tap-tired @sparklingsprinkles @adelacreations

[jqmalikhsgib]

sea view

five

you were very irritated. you couldn’t believe that she has the audacity to comment on your sons post. after harry blocked kendall, along with her family, you’d blocked her from your socials as well. you just never let corbin know. in fact you and harry never told corbin who he’d had affairs with. it wasn’t like you kept the affair a secret.

corbin was old enough to know his dad wasn’t faithful in the past. part of him resented harry for it for a long time. he couldn’t believe his father would hurt him mother like that.

over time though, corbin forgave his dad. he made a mistake and got his shit together. harry made it up to them every single day, he’s still doing everything in his power to prove he’ll never make that mistake ever again.

you were currently on the phone with harry, crying. you were so sick of harry’s past trying to bite you in the ass when you’re trying to move on with your life.

“i know baby. it’s not much we can do though. i mean, we can get corbin to make his account private.” harry sighs.

“i want him to live life like a normal teenager, harry! he shouldn’t have to censor himself because one of your ex bitches are harassing us!”

“honey—”

“no, i know. im sorry. it’s not your fault.”

harry knew that wasn’t true. if he’d been a faithful husband to begin with, none of this would be happening. you wouldn’t be crying alone in your bedroom.

“it is though, baby. i fucked up! that’s gonna haunt me until the day that i die. i—fuck! if you want, i’ll talk to kendall,”

“absolutely not! i don’t want her anywhere near you or the kids. just—set up the meeting and i’ll show up. im gonna handle this once and for all.” you state angrily.

“baby, that’s not a good idea. listen, ill unblock her, text her myself, let her know stop fucking with my family, okay? no need to meet up with her or anything.”

you sigh.

“fine! but harry, i swear to god if she—”

“i know, honey. now, is my girl calmed down a little?”

“stop! you know i hate when you talk to me all sweet and cute after ive just been pissed off.”

“mhm, i know you like it thats for sure. how are the kids?”

“corbin and the girl he was dating broke up. he’s been a bit depressed.” you pout at the thought of your oldest experiencing his first heartbreak.

“is it bad that im kinda happy?”

“harry!”

“what?! im not happy he’s sad. im just relieved he’s not dating anymore. he has his whole life to date, angel. he should just be a kid for right now.”

“i think next year he’s gonna try out for soccer!”

“you mean football, baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes. “whatever you wanna call it, babe. im just worried he won’t do as good as he wants. he really wants to impress you.”

“he’s half english, love. it’s in his blood to be an amazing football player.

“promise you won’t make it a huge deal, harry? if he doesn’t get in he’ll think you’re disappointed in him if you show any sort of excitement.”

“i swear, baby. how’s my princess doing?”

“payton sorta got in trouble in art school for saying a not so nice word today.”

“no?! not my baby girl! she wouldn’t.”

“mhm, she did! apparently she asked her teacher what a dirty little slut meant.”

“what?! where did she,”

“where do you think, harry! when the teacher called she told me she heard it from our room one night. i was totally embarrassed.”

harry laughs loudly. he couldn’t believe his little girl over heard the two of you in the middle of sex. obviously a bit traumatic but, hilarious. he could only imagine what you looked like as the teacher tells you what happened.

“harry, it’s not funny! our seven year old daughter heard us having sex.”

“it’s your fault!”

“my fault?!”

“yes! i recall you being a brat. had to put you back in your place, baby.”

at this point the conversation shifted. you squeezed your thighs together, trying to create some type of friction.

“you can’t say shit like that when you’re gone. it’s not fair!”

“you know i love teasing you, baby. but i miss you too, love. you have no idea how many times ive got a hard on, on stage. it’s not easy hiding it either. with these outfits lloyd has me wearing, i can’t move around too much.”

“what song turns you on that much when you sing it?”

“baby, it’s not even the music. the energy i put out, i give the crowd a show. sometimes you just pop in my head and im gone! fuck, i miss the taste of you.”

you whine. “can’t wait until you’re home. then this problem will go away. i can finally get fucked properly. this vibrator isn’t doing me right, harry! it’s not big or thick enough!”

“need my cock that much, huh?”

“mhm.”

“promise you, baby. when i get home, im gonna fuck you like you need, yeah? gonna make up for all the time we lost, love.”

“promise?”

“one thousand percent.”

you smile at the thought. your youngest son interrupted you right after. you sigh before letting harry know you’ll call him later. you end the call before getting up and going to hayden’s room.

“hi, baby! what’s wrong?”

hayden sniffles as he lifts his arms out. you giggle before picking your son up. “you just want cuddles from, mommy, yeah? im here baby. i love you so much.” you begin to kiss his cheek as he giggles. “you love mamas kisses don’t you, baby!”

you kiss his cheek again as he attempts to clap his hands. “god, you’re the cutest six months old in the entire world! aren’t you, baby?!”

you set up a few toys on the floor and set him down so the two of you could play. you couldn’t wait for your other kids got home from the park and your husband came home from tour in a few more weeks.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera - Ch 14 - Hide

A slightly different format to tell the story of this next bit… I hope it works!

(Previous… Prologue - Stars are Only Visible in Darkness, Estera - 1 - Colour, 2 - Dinosaur, 3 - Shoes, 4 - Thunderbird, 5 - Lesson, 6 - Safe, 7 - Gull, 8 - Deliver, 9 - Coffee, 10 - Flight, 11 - Run, 12 - Fall, 13 - Trying)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

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Was good to meet you today. Here is my number. I hope you’re doing ok? Estera

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Hi Estera, sorry I didn't get back to you immediately. I wasn't well, but I'm doing better now. I'm glad we met. Maybe we could catch up again sometime in the future. Look after yourself, S

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Hi Scott, thanks for your message, I was glad to hear from you, but sad to hear you’ve been unwell. I’m sorry if I have made things more difficult for you. It would be nice to keep in touch if it was helpful to you. Estera

Please don’t be sorry, Estera. It’s not your fault at all.

Are you doing ok?

Yes I’m fine thank you.

Ok. Well, if you ever need anything or you want to talk, I’m here. S

That’s kind, thank you Scott

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“Your anger is distracting you, Estera.”

She lay panting on her back where she’d fallen, and pressed her knuckles into the coolness of the mat desperately trying to keep her mind in the present. She was at the leisure centre, the distant ceiling had huge silver ventilation tubes snaking across it. The rhythmic squeak-wheeze of the trampolines at the other end of the hall contrasted the irregular thump of shoulder and slap of hand on tatami mats close by. She could smell sweat and chalk. She could taste… blood. Aaah no, she’d bitten the inside of her cheek again and now that was going to irritate her for days.

Her teacher dropped to one knee and offered a hand. Estera pretended she hadn’t noticed and pushed herself to her feet unaided. She didn’t need anyone being kind to her right now. It might unlock a floodgate she’d be unable to force closed again.

“You ok?”

“Yes. Again.”

“I’m think perhaps it’s best if we call it a day there”

“Again. Please, I want to master this.”

The teacher cocked an eyebrow, but nodded. Estera bowed and made herself ready. Physically ready anyway. Hopefully muscle memory would compensate for today’s lack of mental discipline

She lasted longer this time, but the inevitable bone rattling thud as she hit the floor came all too soon. She forced herself upright and back into the ready position but a third voice intervened.

“Enough.”

She turned and bowed alongside her teacher as the master approached, disappointment making her shoulders heavy as she stood up straight. The coral-belted septuagenarian didn’t visit often, but on previous occasions the little girl in Estera had been thrilled to receive a nod of approval from the awe inspiring woman. Today she’d just let herself down. Not good enough.

“You need to sleep and recover your wits.”

Estera barely managed to contain the burst of bitter laughter. Chance would be a fine thing. She knew she was running on fumes and fury and the fumes were dissipating fast.

Dropping her eyes to avoid having to see the evident concern, she bowed to the master and then her teacher and tried to keep her head held high as she walked away, knowing full well the other students had stopped to watch her leave. She threw her coat over her gi and strode confidently through reception to the front entrance trying to ignore the bleeding man pleading with her from the periphery of her vision. She pulled up her hood so he couldn’t see her.

But she could still hear him. And found she could no longer disobey.

And so she ran.

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Hi, just wondered how you were getting on? How are Alex and co? S

Hi Scott, the kids are doing really well. They were delighted with the cards, that was a lovely touch. A couple struggled a little with nightmares to start with but seem to be getting better. Most bounced back unscathed. Thank you for asking. Estera

Very glad to hear that. Kids can be surprisingly resilient!

How about you?

Oh yes, I’m fine!

You know that’s usually my line?

I remember!

Ha. Yeah, not my finest moment.

Are you sure? Have you got people around if you need to talk about anything?

Yes, don’t worry :)

Ok. Take care, yeah?

I will! You too.

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Estera pressed send and reached out to steady herself as her head spun. She missed, grasped thin air and staggered sideways into the shelves of stationery, cringing as a monsoon of crayons, pencil sharpeners and boxes of junk modelling materials clattered to the floor. Well wasn’t that just what she deserved for hiding in a cupboard and sneaking a look at her messages during the school day? Why had she done that? So unprofessional.

The buzz of chatter outside stopped abruptly and Astra poked a curious head round the cupboard door

“Are you ok, Miss?

“Oh yes, of course - I just knocked a box with my elbow and that knocked into another box which knocked another one… and whoops! Never mind I’ll clear it up.”

“Can we help?”

“Thank you that’s a good idea. Little disasters are often easier to fix if you have help aren’t they?”

“Teamwork makes the dream work Miss!”

Estera nudged the door fully open and pushed the piles of craft devastation out into the classroom and several children leapt into action to return everything to its correct box. She leant heavily on the door frame and looked up to see the narrowed eyes of her classroom assistant. He was apparently not fooled and raised an eyebrow before inclining his head towards the classroom door. She smiled gratefully and accepted the offer of an opportunity to take a brief break, making it to the corridor before the tears fell. Dizzy again, she slumped against the wall just as the headteacher walked around the corner.

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Hey, you doing ok? S

Hi Scott, yes all good here. How are you getting on?

I’m good, thanks. Pretty late night for you?

Oh! Yes I guess it is. I couldn’t sleep so watched a film but I’d better get myself to bed - busy day tomorrow!

Ok sleep well, take care

And you.

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Sitting rigidly on the park bench outside the GP surgery, Estera frowned at the contents of the paper bag she had clutched in her hand. Sleeping pills and a generic SSRI to take while she crept up the waiting list for some kind of talking therapy. Signed off for 3 weeks. Fine. Predictable.

Fine.

Not as if she hadn’t known what the outcome would be. But her boss had been very firm about her booking the appointment. She’d hoped to fob off the friendly but ever so young-looking doctor with it just being nightmares about the cave in but of course her medical records were right there and Dr Honestly-How-Was-She-Old-Enough-To-Have-a-Degree skipped straight to the point and made a referral for suspected PTSD recurrence. It was likely to be 12 weeks wait to see anyone though. So in the meantime Estera’s job was to not die from sleep deprivation.

Or guilt.

She sighed, not sure she could she even bring herself to take these. She knew the human body needed to sleep but the terror of being trapped in a drugged stupor where the nightmares could torment her without even the safety net of startling herself awake… her hand shook. Then her pocket buzzed.

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I finally ordered some running shoes from that shop you recommended and you aren’t wrong - it IS like running on a cloud! 🥰 S

Hi Scott, glad to hear it! Mine have lasted ages as well. Good value.

I’ll probably destroy them in weeks. I have… form.

Ha, I can imagine.

How are you doing Estera? Isn’t it school time for you? Hope I’m not distracting you from my little buddies?

Ah no, I have the day off today.

Oh?

I’d better get on with doing something constructive with it. Bez probably has some ideas! Nice to hear from you, enjoy the shoes!

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Hey, how’s tricks? S

Hi, I saw you on the news - it’s brilliant what TI is doing for those schools! Estera

Hey :) Ah, can’t take much credit, this is Alan and John’s pet project.

Well you explained it very well on camera.

I’m glad you think so, I thought I was unbearably awkward!!

It didn’t show.

Thanks.

How are things with you?

Good!

Keeping busy!

How about you?

Much better thanks to you

I mean ‘much better, thank you!’

Sorry, autocorrect thinks it’s clever.

Still get some off-days, you know how it is, but I’m back in the air and doing my job again which is good.

That’s really good to hear, I’m glad for you. And for all the people needing rescuing too!

Speaking of which… I have to go. Look after yourself, alright?

Will do.

Be careful!

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Later that evening Scott nursed a long-cold cup of coffee while flicking back and forth through the last month of messages with Estera. There hadn’t been many, just little exchanges every so often when he tried to check in on her. Something felt… off. She was dodging the question every time. Her over-cheery assurances felt uncomfortably familiar.

What if she wasn’t fine?

Patricia had warned him he needed to be careful not to let himself feel responsible for Estera’s welfare, that his lingering sense of failure from before would mean it was easy to overcompensate now, a decade later.

But… how could he not? He pondered her apparent faint in the cave, the more he thought about it the more convinced he was that she too experienced the kind of flashbacks she’d so calmly helped him through. He knew he’d never have made it through without the support of his family, even when he’d spent all his energy trying to push them away and deal with things alone, they’d always caught him as he fell. Scott suspected she was pretty much alone. What if she didn’t have anyone to catch her?

But why would she talk to him? He was little more than a stranger to her even if he felt as if she’d been alongside him for years. Even though he’d felt as if she was the first person ever to really understand there was no guarantee she thought the same. Perhaps he’d been too pushy with all the messages? Was he somehow smother-henning someone from the opposite side of the planet? He paced anxiously.

A reminder popped up in his TI email account. Oh joy, two days of meetings in London next week. He stifled a groan then paused. Maybe he could make the trip more worthwhile? Asking wouldn’t hurt. And if she wasn’t keen then at least he’d know he’d tried his best and could leave it at that.

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Hey, I’m up your way for a meeting next week. Maybe we could catch up? S

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Chapter 15…

[itszazouu]

Hi and welcome on tumblr. 🌞 Hope you'll like it here.

May I request an Osamu Miya fluff with a female or gender neutral reader who is an overthinker and is convinced that the signs Osamu sends her are just because he's nice, but in the end she has to realise that he is indeed in love with her/them?

Have a nice day🌞

thank you so much for your request !!! I tried my best, hope you'll enjoy it ;) have a nice day <3

A TRICK OF YOUR MIND (osamu miya x overthinker reader)

characters : Osamu Miya x overthinker reader and a little bit of Atsumu too

genre : fluff

warnings : mention of insomnia

you were friend with Osamu for a very long time, but as time goes by you start to overthink his nice and kind gestures towards you and might wonder if there isn't a little bit more than friendship between you two

You were caught up in your mind again. You weren’t paying any attention to the book you were reading, too busy thinking of the gray haired boy and your mixed feelings towards him.

You must have been imagining things. Well you do that so well anyway.

But you couldn’t help yourself and hoped there may be more than just platonic feelings behind the kind actions and gestures of Osamu Miya. Every time you come to their volleyball practice, he’ll always shoot a nice glance and a smile toward you, like he was happy you were here. But that’s impossible right ? He’s just nice with everyone, you saw it during class and practice.

And then, you can’t help but hope there may be more behind his selfless and caring behavior. You were craving his attention, and his nice and understanding gray eyes didn’t help making you feel less eager for his presence. How you hoped you could one day maybe feel comforted and happy in the tenderness of his arms. You’ll be able to hold his hand on your way back home after a long day at school. Maybe even have a date, cheer for him during a match, kiss him stupid to chase away his guilt when he blames himself for their loss…  But that’s impossible, and you know that, you’re just a nice friend who is too lost in her mind. Nothing very attractive in that. Right ?

However, you’ve decided to do nothing about it, knowing perfectly well that nothing will ever happen. Because that’s how things are right ? And what if he really doesn’t like me in that way ? I’ll be so embarrassed, I’ll never be able to face him again. 

So you slowly grew apart from him. You didn’t share meals with him, Rintaro and his twin anymore. You no longer came to watch Osamu at practice and walked home with him and Atsumu. And on top of that, you stopped looking at him for too long, afraid that the volleyball player will notice how you felt towards him just by looking in your eyes.

This strange behavior of yours didn’t come unnoticed by Osamu. And, to say the least, it irritates him so much. What did he do wrong ? Why don’t you eat with him anymore ? Usually you would immediately join them and sit right next to him to share your meal. What happened to that ? Right as the bell rings, signaling lunch break, you escape straight away claiming that you have stuff to do. It goes the same for practice. You aren’t here anymore to cheer for him and make him feel proud. Those moments were the happiest time of his day. Always thanking you in a quiet way, his way, with a kind and warm smile and locking eyes with you. Hoping that you’ll get the hint of his feelings for you. But now, you are so far away from the gray-eyed boy, making him feel like you’re slipping away from him.  

       After practically two weeks, the situation remains the same. You are sad and no longer cheerful, staying as far away from Osamu, even though it hurts you so much. And Osamu is more frustrated than ever, without being able to talk to you, he isn’t able to focus properly during school and practice, receiving remarks from his teachers and teammates. And especially from Atsumu. Oh, his damn twin, who could read him like an open book. And this is exactly because of this sly Atsumu, that Osamu comes to the conclusion of why he feels so out of it. 

After what felt like a never-ending practice, Atsumu decides that it's time for his twin to snap out of it and do something about his behavior, so uncharacteristic of the Osamu Miya that he knows. 

    “Hey, ‘Samu, don’t you think it’s time for you to do something about this Y/N situation ?”   

The gray-haired twin, lost in his thoughts, jumps in the middle of the street, only illuminated by the street lamps 

“Ha ?! What do you mean by the Y/N situation ‘Tsumu ? Why would you talk about her anyway ?” Osamu responds, now ready to slap his brother by approaching this sensitive subject. 

“Easy there, I’m not trying to pick up a fight, I just want the real Osamu back, and not this pale version of yourself too caught up in your mind to even realize that people are actually concerned for you.”  Atsumu answers gently. 

Osamu, trying to collect himself, comes to realize that he hasn't really been himself during the past few weeks and he’s willing to sort out this situation with you. He saw it in your eyes, the lack of energy and joy, because he can’t help but look for you when he enters a room knowing that you’re there. 

“Maybe, you’re right, I should definitely talk to her and sort things out. I’ll try tomorrow, and I hope I’ll find out what’s wrong with her.”  Osamu exchanges a knowing look with his brother then looking before him, preparing himself mentally for his so needed conversation with you. 

                                                           *

You’re exhausted. You haven’t been able to sleep for days because of your mind that keeps you up at night. He didn’t even notice that I don’t talk to him anymore. I was right, I’m just a classmate and nothing more. Oh my god I can’t even imagine if I ever confessed to him ! It would have been mortifying. And your mind goes on and on all night like that. Keeping you up, drawing you towards the man that you try to escape so desperately from. Osamu Miya. 

After class, you find comfort in the promise of a much deserved rest at home, in your room. But your plans are blown away by the sight, rather the man in front of you, Osamu, who looks like he was waiting for you. Wait, is he waiting for me ?? That is not possible, there must be some kind of mistake right ? Yes, he must be waiting for Atsumu to go with him to practice.  You keep walking past him, trying to look unbothered, but no, he has other plans for you and your poor heart. 

He grabs your wrist. Are we in a romantic show or something ? Help, I can’t take it anymore, that is it, I’m going to confess. Fuck the consequences. But before you can speak and seal your fate, the gray-eyed volleyball man speaks, and oh, that is not what you expected at all. 

“Y/N, look I don’t know what I’ve done to you, but I need to understand why you are avoiding me so much.” His voice is unsteady and his eyes won’t meet yours. Wait, is he nervous ?

“Osamu… I…” unsure of what to say you try to step back. Damn, I must look so stupid

“I just want you to know that, I didn’t know what to do with this situation, and how to react, but what I am sure of is that I miss you Y/N… I miss having lunch with you, having you cheer for me at practice, walking back home with me when the sun just set. I miss those moment with you, and I miss the glee in your eyes whenever I look at you, you just look so upset Y/N. And I want you to tell me if I did something to anger you, please.” Osamu almost sounds like he’s pleading, and now he looks at you straight in the eyes.  

You are so taken aback by this conversation and by the way Osamu is so casually speaking up his feelings to you, that you forget how to breathe for a moment. What should I do…  I must tell him. It isn’t fair if I don’t explain it to him. 

“ Look Osamu…” You begin, and the attention of the boy on you feels immediately more intense. You gather your courage and speak your feelings up  “The only reason why I’ve been distancing myself from you so much is because I was scared of my own feelings. Every time I look into your soft eyes, it’s like they’re promising me something that I won’t have. I feel so attached to you that it almost hurts, and I know that it is a one sided feeling, and I don’t blame you for that, I was just trying to move on and protect myself. Despite all of my efforts, I feel inevitably attracted to you and your always so nice and gentle behavior towards me. I know I must have been imagining things, but I think that you deserve to know how I feel.” That is it. I said it and he will never talk to me ever again. But I said it and I will be able to move on. Why do I feel like I need to cry though ? 

Saying that Osamu Miya is surprised is an understatement. He is flabbergasted. You, the always sweet and cheering girl he has been admiring from afar, likes him back ? Is he dreaming ? If this is the case, he never wants to wake up. 

You’re looking at him with averted eyes and , wait, is that a blush on your face ? And he feels like screaming out of happiness, or maybe melting right on the spot, he doesn’t know yet. 

“Y/N, what in my behavior towards you made you think that you were imagining things ?” 

You’re frozen, you don’t know what to do, maybe running away would be a viable option, but no, Osamu is a volleyball player and runs way faster than you. So you indulge yourself and respond  “I… hum…” 

Osamu quirks a brow, I repeat, Osamu whose face is always so collected, quirks a brow and smiles at you for the love of god. “Well ? You’ve got nothing to say ? Here I’ll help you”  He takes both of your hands and places them on his chest, only for you to feel the quick pace of his heartbeat. “See, I’m nervous too.” He says while chuckling. 

Fuck it. I have nothing to lose anymore. And then, you approach Osamu and place a chaste kiss on his cheek, only for him to pull you closer and cup your cheeks between his large hands. After what felt like an eternity of looking each other in the eyes, he kisses you tenderly, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He kisses you on the lips, on the cheeks, on the eyelids and he goes on and on, and you feel like crying out of happiness. 

Between his kisses, you manage to say “I love you, I really love you Osamu…”

And then he stops, “Y/N, I love you, I adore you, I’m sorry if I haven’t shown it well but I’ll try my best” he says while cupping your face lovingly. 

You feel at peace, it wasn’t all in your head this time. Osamu places one more kiss on your lips and smiles at you “See, it wasn’t a silly trick of your mind after all”.

[meiissblog]

Late night visit ⭐️ Gojo x Fembodied Y/N

⚠️SPOILERS for Jujutsu kaisen ⚠️

• REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

Scenario:

Y/n and Gojo have been together for a year but recently y/n is getting tired of Gojo acting so suspicious and secretive about everything so she confronts him.

~ Late night visit ⭐️~

⚠️WARNINGS ⚠️

NSFW 18+ only

•drama• slight arguing•oral (fem receiving)•slight degradation? (he calls you a slut)•talk of voyeurism?•

——————————————————————

Y/N POV:

It was late 2:00 AM to be exact

I lay with my head on my hand still waiting at my immaculately decorated dining table food still sitting in the same place I had set it hours ago.

“He stood me up again…”. I mutter quietly to myself irritated the sadness from earlier fading now into anger. I slam my hands against the table as I stand up going towards my charging phone in the living room. I pick up my phone still no missed calls I feel myself getting more irritated.

when my arms wrap around my waist I jump in fear Immediately trying to get out of the person's grip until I hear Gojo’s goofy laugh. “Hey baby what has you so jumpy”. I turn around so I’m facing him. “Fuck you toru, you scared me”. I reach up gently pecking his lips he smiles into the kiss as he pecks me back.

We part from each other and I gently take his wrist leading him towards the dining room. “I made you dinner but it’s cold now I’ll have to go reheat sit down and relax I’ll be right back”. I quickly take both our plates and head into the kitchen.

I stand in front of the microwave as I wait for the food to heat up as my thoughts swirl in my head. So it’s one of those times again huh? he shows up hours late for our date then we have sex right away and then leaves without a goodbye. Before We used to actually sit and talk now it feels like we are just hookup buddies and I’m tired of it if he wants a hookup it’s not going to be me.

Just then I feel his hands grope my sides as his warm lips kiss the side of my neck. “Y/n you look so beautiful tonight I missed you”. I moan a bit as I feel his hands glide against my ass in a teasing manner. But before I get distracted I turn around grabbing Gojo’s hands. “T-toru we need to talk”. “Uh oh what’s the matter y/n was I being too

Aggressive?”. “N-no I’m just… , it feels like you don’t like me and you're just using me for sex if that’s the case I’d rather you’d be more clear if all you want is a hookup than I’m not your girl”. “Y/n I do like you and I want us to be together I promise I’m not using you for anything I’m sorry for not being here lately my job has been very busy and I haven’t had much time for anything”. he caresses my cheek with his large ruff hand. I pout slightly. “That’s what you always say toru, you say you’re a teacher but I have other friends who are teachers and they’re still not half as busy as you. Not only that you always have those massive bruises and massive scars all over your body what kind of teacher gets injured like that?”. “Y/n you know I can’t tell you-“. “I know I know! you can’t tell me because you’re protecting me whatever that means I’m starting to think you’re married or are part of the mafia”. Gojo just laughs.

I glare at him as Gojo kneels in front of me.

⚠️Smut warning ⚠️

“T-toru what are you doing”. He reaches under my dress pulling down my underwear. “I would like to make it up to you for being gone so often unless you don’t want it?”. I hesitate for a moment blushing as his pretty blue eyes look up at me with lust. “F-fine..”.

I open my legs so he can have easier access placing my hands on the counter behind me.

he runs his fingers against my slit spreading me open and inserting his forefingers with ease as his lips attach my clit sucking on it. “Gojo, fuck…”. He hums in satisfaction the vibrations going directly against my clit. I moan again As He looks up at me with his beautiful blue eyes. As his fingers also begin to thrust into me perfectly going for my g spot with pinpoint accuracy. Ramming his fingers against it while he continues to suck on my clit. “OH MY-…”. My hips uncontrollably thrust into his mouth he moans his other hand grabs my left hip tightly keeping me in place as my hips wiggle from the sensitivity as he continues to suck and lick my clit until it almost goes numb. “Shit”.. “does it feel good baby?”. “Y-yes”. I can feel myself getting closer as his movements get more sporadic. “You’re going to cum y/n aren’t you? Go ahead cum”.

As soon as those words leave his mouth I cum squirting all over his fingers I groan in satisfaction. “Fuck, y/n”. My legs shake as I can hardly keep myself upright he must’ve sensed this because Gojo immediately holds my body upright with ease as he lewdly licks all over my Pussy, inner thighs, and clit slurping away at all my arousal purposely overstimulating me. my right hand immediately goes onto his head and gently tugs at his soft hair. I moan “T-toru too much”. He immediately stops kissing my inner thighs leaving some very visible hickeys behind before he finally stands up grabbing my chin in a gentle yet dominaning way kissing me ruffly. I taste myself on his tongue as he gropes my breasts through my dress.

I separate from the kiss when I feel Gojo’s hard cock against my leg. “T-toru you do know people can see us from here right? I mean I live in an apartment building surrounded by other buildings do you not notice the big windows?”. “Yeah and? Here Turn around and lean against the counter y/n”. I sigh as He helps me strip my dress off I obey him leaning against the counter where my sink is located. the counter right in front of the large windows I had just mentioned. “Toru! What did I just say”. he slaps my ass playfully right before he enters me without warning he also undoes my bra stripping it off me as he thrusts.

I moan loudly as Gojo reaches around groping my breasts as he thrusts harder. “You know y/n for someone who acts ashamed about being seen your Pussy is completely soaked be honest you’d like for someone to see us like this wouldn’t you?”. Gojo kisses and licks the back of my neck. “I’m w-wet from coming earlier I don’t-”. I moan as he thrusts directly into my g spot. “Hmmm?”. His warm lips touch my ear I shiver from his hot breath as he whispers. “Then why is your pussy gripping onto my cock with a death grip? Admit you’re a slut who likes to be displayed to others. I don’t mind people watching as I rail you”. “G-gojo”… He gently punches my nipples as he thrusts into my G-spot multiple times. “Admit it slut”. “I-I like being seen b-but only by you”. “Cute”. Gojo gently bites the back of my neck as he continues to thrust but he unexpectedly removes himself.

“Y/n baby turn around”. I immediately get up turning towards Gojo as he picks me up and sets me on top of my counter next to my sink. he kisses me shoving his tongue in my mouth I moan welcoming it as I kiss back gently grabbing his face with both hands as he leans on top of me. As he opens my legs he enters me again. We both moan into our kiss as he thrusts into me once again.

I wrap my legs and arms around Gojo’s waist pulling him in closer as we both kiss sloppy as he thrusts in farther the both of us getting close. Gojo pulls Away from our kiss “You’re getting close and so am I should I pull out?”. “Y-yeah…”. I moan as he thrusts a few more times bringing me over the edge my toes curling as Gojo pulls out of me stoking himself a few times before finally cumming all over my stomach and chest.

⚠️Smut over⚠️

We both sit there for a few moments catching our breath. Gojo laying his body on top of mine I smile running my hand threw his hair. “I love you”. Softly I kiss his head multiple times. After another few moments, he gently picks me up taking me into the bathroom as we both clean up. He remains surprisingly quiet throughout the rest of the night something feels off almost as if he’s lost in thought. I sit on the side of my bed as I feel some sadness wash over me should I not of said I love you? Did I freak him out? when Gojo enters my room still dressed in the robe I gave him earlier usually he’d be long gone by now. “Toru? Is something wrong with the laundry do you need help?”. “No y/n… he comes up beside the bed kneeling in front of me taking my hand gently in his looking up at me with serious eyes. My heart drops is he going to break up with me?! “Y/n… I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone which is why you deserve the truth. even if you don’t believe me”. “Okay?..”. “The truth is y/n I’m a jujutsu sorcerer who kills cursed spirits I was hired and paid by your family to look over you.

because even though you’re a human who can’t see cursed spirits you have some kind of spiritual cleansing effect around you that kills them. Thanks to that bigger cursed spirits are attracted to you and they put you in danger”. I look at him with confusion I think for a moment I know the things he’s saying should sound like insane rambling but concerning my life it kinda makes sense. “Tell me can cursed spirits be small? And look like weird looking bug-like creatures?”. “Yeah some of them why?”. “When I was a child I would see these weird bugs around me all the time but every time I told someone nobody believed me and everyone thought I was crazy”. “ do you still see these things?”.

“Yeah, sometimes my grandfather saw them as well he always told me to picture a bright light and they would go away”. “How interesting”. Gojo looks off in deep thought once again. “Toru, are you going to stay with me for the rest of the night?”. He hums as he climbs into the bed next to me. “Sure baby, if you’d like”. he strips off his robe I do the same so the both of us are completely naked once again.

We both cuddle with each other under the warm soft blankets enjoying each other's body heat. Taking and laughing casually my eyelids getting heavy as I fall asleep with my head against Gojo’s chest.

Gojo POV:

I hold y/n close using my six eyes still sensing a cursed special grade around us but for some reason, I can’t see it. It’s here in this apartment I know it even if my eyes can’t see it.

I’m glad I came to visit, now that I’m here she won’t be hurt. I’ll have to contact someone at the school tomorrow and take my vacation early there’s no way I can leave right now with this thing after y/n.

Hours pass I stay up watching y/n sleep admiring her beauty when the cursed energy I sensed leaves.

Don’t worry y/n with me you’re safe

I love you.

MASTERLIST

[deareric]

Dear Eric,

I got some good news! The job that I really wanted, just called to set up an interview with me! A little weird since I’ve already had an interview with them last month but I’m down for a do over.

M wants me to move into his gross af house. M has been grossing me out a lot lately. He’s getting comfortable enough to fart around me. I know you’re giggling about this because you took every chance you got to Dutch oven me. I would get you back by taking my morning poo ( my stinkiest poo) while you would shower, hot boxing you.

But your farts were roses compared to M’s. I have never smelled anything so bad in my life. I was literally gasping for air and opening up his window. He found this hilarious. I’m gunna diet from now on.

I woke up today feeling sad. I don’t know why but I randomly thought about this really cruel teacher I had back in high school who was super mean to me for absolutely no reason. I remember being told to sit in her class to finish a test I had missed but as soon as I walked into her class, she yelled at me in front of her students for “disrupting” even though she was expecting me.

It was super embarrassing. She demanded that I go “sit in the corner and not make a sound” and as I did, a few her of students were like, “ Damn. What did she even do?” She just continued on teaching.

I don’t know why that bothers me still. I was confused as to how I was disrupting her class back then. Perhaps she was irritated by something else and took that irritation out on me but in that moment, it felt like she took one look at me and got angry and wanted to humiliate me and she did.

I wonder if that’s why the “angry black woman” in me comes out whenever I felt disrespected. I automatically feel how I did in that moment - torn down for simply existing.

[mytheoristavenue]

TMNT 2012 Perv!Leonardo x Clueless!Reader - Disapline

Summary: Leo was excited for your first training session with him, before he realized how well you fill out your gi.

Warnings: arousal, f!reader, clueless!reader, perv!Leo,  teacher x student if your squint

Leo sat in the middle of the dojo floor, calming his mind in preparation for his first class with his first student, you. Splinter had decided that, with the turtles’ enemies learning about your relationship to them, you absolutely had to know how to defend yourself, and that his eldest son teaching you would only strengthen the both of you. 

In truth, he was a bit nervous, worried he might overwhelm you or become too obviously frustrated with your lack of experience. You did tend to vex him, as you shared a personality type with Mikey, but he simply had to be patient with you, he could do this. He took a deep breath in order to steady his thoughts, just in time to hear the sliding door smack against the wall. 

“I’m ready!” you chirped, a bit too loudly. His brow twitched at the racket, and the noise that followed you as you ran toward him. 

“The first rule of being a ninja is-” he began, snapping his eyes open to find you sitting on your knees in front of him, ponds of (e/c) full of curiosity, and posture stick straight to impress him. You’d hoped that by resisting the urge to slouch, you might look more disciplined. Leo however, admired your stiff back for a different reason, which clouded his mind, ruining all his hard earned zen. The way you were holding yourself arched your spine, and held you shoulders in a way that hoisted your breasts to their most supple position. Your hips, on the other hand bore all their weight on your heels, which gave the illusion of a deliciously wide waist. All of this was made worse by the fact that the gi you were wearing had at one time belonged to April, who it had fit much more loosely.  

“Is what?” you blinked, oblivious to the terrapin’s deconstruction of your appearance. “Leo?”

Your teacher shook his impure thoughts away, furrowing his brows. “Stealth. The first thing you need to know about ninjutsu is stealth.” He was struggling to maintain eye contact with you, his gaze falling dangerously low on your collarbone before snapping back to your face. Finally he decided he simply wouldn’t look at you at all. “Any good ninja always uses their surroundings to their advantage, staying in the shadows, and mastering silent communication.”

“But how can you communicate if you’re silent?” you pondered, pressing a curious finger to your cheek with the tilt of your head. “Maybe sign language? Hmm...but I don’t know ASL...” Leos’ fists balled at his sides and his head fidgeted in annoyance as you began to ramble to yourself. If he hadn’t known any better, he might've considered the notion that you could simply be playing dumb in order to fulfill some ulterior motive. But the sad truth was that he did know better, and over the last few months, he’d come to know the obnoxious girl that Mikey calls his ‘bestie’ increasingly well. 

To be honest, you were on the ditsier side, and this was a well known fact, and one that often made you the butt of many jokes. There was no doubt in Leo’s mind that your behavior was genuine, as irritating as it was, and though he could criticize you in the past for being a vexing little girl, there was no denying the present truth; you were now displayed for his as a woman, full bodied and no longer annoying, but anxious to devour any knowledge he might be so gracious as to bestow upon you. And this terrified him. 

“That’s enough,” he finally cleared his throat, begrudgingly bringing your attention back to him. Once again his eyes were glued shut, lest he open them and find himself drowning in your eyes again. “Let’s get back on task.”

“Hai, sensei!” The terrapin froze hearing your sweet voice utter those words, and so excitedly too. He had to shift the way he sat on his knees to resist the wagging of his little tail at the thought. “So, do I get to pick my weapon today?” you asked, full of enthusiasm. Finally, something for him to be stern about. 

“No,” he replied. “You have a long way to go before that happens. First you’ll need to learn the fundamentals of ninjitsu.”

“Which are?”

“Discipline, stealth, and strength, both mental and physical.” he clarified. “You’ll need to master all of these before we can move forward with your training. Today, we’ll start with discipline.”

-----

Currently, you sat again in the middle of the dojo, Leo standing behind you watching your closely. In front of you, on the mat sat a plate of cookies of a flavor that you particularly liked. “So, being a ninja means you’re not allowed to eat cookies?” you questioned with a tilted head and puzzled expression. 

“Not exactly. Discipline is the recognition that you want the cookies, but won’t eat them.” he explained. 

“Are the burnt?” you asked, glancing back at him. 

“What? No, they’re not burnt.” 

“Poisoned?” 

“No!” he groaned, dragging his palm across his face. “There’s nothing wrong with the cookies, they’re perfectly fine, you just can’t eat them.”

“Oh, I get it now,” you giggled, clasping your hands together. Relief washed over Leo’s nerves at the prospect of a break through. “They belong to someone else, right? That’s why I can’t eat them.”

“Oh my God,” he sighed, pinching his brow in frustration. “You can eat the cookies-”

“Oh, I can?” Without another word, you plucked one off the plate and bit into it, humming at the sweetness of it. After gobbling it down, you patiently licked whatever crumbs or melted topping decorated your fingers before looking back to him. “That wasn’t so hard!”

“You weren’t supposed to eat the cookie!” he raised his voice at you, holding back the urge to call you colorful names, before sighing again. “You were just supposed to come the conclusion that you wouldn’t, even though you wanted to and could.”

“So I failed?” you asked sadly, shoulders slumping, unknowingly making your cleavage all the more visible.

“‘Fraid so.” he confirmed, glancing toward the ceiling to avoid ogling your. You whined, dramatically flopping onto your back, arms above your head, and face contorted into an irritated pose. From above you Leo couldn’t keep himself from stealing glances. How could he not when you were all splayed out all over the floor like that. Timid about his perverse thoughts, he sucked his bottom lip between his jaws, daring for longer looks each time. Suddenly, his eyes were met with yours, those once curious pools now wide with shock and discomfort. 

“Oh my God, Leo, are you looking at my boobs, you sicko?!” you squealed, instantly jumping to your feet, and doing your best to cover yourself your your arms.

“N-No, I wasn’t I swear!” he stammered, backing up with his hands cautiously raised. “I-I was just thinking about how to help you understand the concept of discipline is all!”

“Obviously you’re the one who needs to understand discipline, you creep!” With that, you stormed out of the dojo, once again leaving the vex terrapin alone with his thoughts. 

“Well...class dismissed, I guess...”

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[moo-nstone]

random thoughts on the rising signs

aries risings are completely different when in a day-to-day basis compared to when in a position of power. when you’re with your friends, you’re this fun, energetic, loud person, but when you’re in a position of power... terrifying. you’ll completely switch to someone very serious and intimidating, with a very intense aura. i think it’s because you understand you have a very youthful aspect to you, both in appearance and energy, and you don’t want that to keep you from commanding respect. also because you’re very attracted to leading so that’s when you’re at your most focused. you’re very easy to irritate; as an aries rising, my friends always tease me because they know i’ll immediately doom them to an afterlife in hell. SO explosive, impulsive and chaotic, but that’s what makes you fun.

cancer risings you have such a delicate beauty to you. very sensitive to others’ emotions. people probably baby you a lot without even noticing it, they just want to protect/mentor you. you do very well with older figures like teachers and your friends’ parents. you also ooze maturity. a lot of the cancer risings i’ve met had to learn to be the responsible one in their families from a very young age, so now you take it upon yourself to take care of everyone around you – that’s probably why many people talk about cancer risings as being the “mom friend”. you have the chubbiest cheeks, i wanna bite them lol they’re so cute.

gemini risings look like literal models. VERY good with people, you can probably make someone do whatever you want by just staring into their eyes and telling them pretty words. but i’ve noticed how your communication can be easily misunderstood, you might come off as having certain intentions when you’re trying to convey the exact contrary. probably the alfa of your friend group and the one who has the most reckless, unhinged plans.. yet you’re never caught doing anything bad. you require a lot of stimulation so you’ll do whatever it takes to scratch that itch in you. you remind me of that phrase “i might be a bad influence, but you can’t tell me i’m not fun.” it’s impossible to ever be bored around you.

scorpio risings have this thing where people are absolutely intimidated by you, yet are very attracted to you and just need your attention. the type of person that has random people flirting with you on the streets just so you’ll make eye contact with them for one second longer. you also look lowkey terrifying, you just have massive resting bitch faces and always look pissed off when on the inside you’re just thinking “hm, what am i going to eat for lunch?” very intense gaze and look straight out of greek-mythology, you persephone ass bitch.

libra risings look so well put together. every color on you works in perfect harmony with one another – from your clothing to your hair to your skin tone to your makeup. you’re always sporting a smile and you look so composed, but baby i know you’re close to comitting sporadic murder LMFAO no one can convince me that libra placements are the exact contrary from peaceful, you’re the most unstable people in the world, in the best and most fun way possible – and sometimes in a downright toxic way, ease with the passive-aggressiveness and confrontational nature when it comes to personal relationships.

aquarius risings have the biggest crackhead energy ever. you’re very intimidating at first, and it’s easy to misunderstand you because of that – many think you’re serious and stuck up but you’re just observing and waiting to feel comfortable around them. when you do get comfortable, you’re just funny as fuck – you’ll talk about the most random things and make them sound so interesting, you say the most hilarious things; honestly, you’re a walking meme. also you look like you disassociate so much? you’ll be in the middle of a conversation and then you’ll just start staring into the distance for fifteen whole minutes, but the whole time you were actually listening to the other person.

leo risings i just.. love you. it’s like you’re born to be the center of attention without even trying. literally so expressive and charismatic even if you’re very shy at first, great storytellers, and you’re just so loyal and the amount of support you give to your friends is unmatched. you do very well in a tight friend group where there’s so much trust and supportive energy. if you don’t have one, you probably fantasize a lot about it. how’s that winx obsession going? literally so authentic and raw in everything you do too. people call you egotistical and self-centered because they can’t stand a headstrong person like you. please don’t take insults so much to heart and let them shatter your perception of yourself, and understand that if someone mocks your appearance they’re just projecting their insecurities.

virgo risings you refuse to leave the house if you’re not absolutely perfect. i know someone with a virgo rising who simply refuses to do video-calls before taking a shower and drying their hair. VERY intimidating, will give judgemental stares and look at you in the streets like you’re the ugliest thing in the world but will probably not even realize they were staring at someone in the first place. i have so much fun teasing you, you get annoyed SO fast and it’s so fun because i practically have a degree in being annoying. you also find it shocking when someone teases you because most people are too scared to do it. you’re the most fun to talk shit with because you can be so critical and you just love some drama and gossiping. please stop complaining about things though or i’ll be forced to commit a hate-crime. your luck that i can’t help loving you.

sagittarius risings give sagittarius energy the stereotype of being so freedom-loving and adventurous. you’re very approachable and easy-going, the type of person that people will meet once and already consider you their friends. you’re up to whenever wherever, no matter how dumb the idea might sound, because you know first-hand that the weirdest, most last-minute plans make the greatest memories. i also notice that you’ll use going out as a way of avoiding your feelings. instead of allowing yourself to process your sadness and heartbreak, you just call your friends and go out so you won’t have to sit with your own, scary thoughts.

pisces risings look like they they breathe and create art with every breath they take. literally ooze emotional and artistic sensitivity. very sensitive to others’ energies and that can really take a toll on your mental health – being surrounded by negative people will literally drain you. please remember to take some me-time to recharge and process all those emotions. pisces risings literally look so ethereal, out of this world, with your sparkly eyes when you talk about your dreams and your strong sense of individuality cultivated in all your appearance, from your clothing to your makeup to you hair.

capricorn risings go through so much in their life and for what?? i swear you have so many hardships always coming your way and it angers me so much because you don’t deserve it at all. at least you always learn a lot from those experiences, which just makes you stronger and more undefeatable. you have a very melancholic gaze to you. very doll-like. naturally command authority and respect. unlike taurus risings, you thrive in situations of change – you practically seek them, knowing that learning to adapt to all situations and to work with them so they work in your favor is a gift. you turn so many heads in the street, i’m always in awe at your beauty.

it’s no wonder that the most beautiful celebrities constantly have taurus risings. you’re very strong and fixed in your ideas, making people often describe you as the taurus stereotype of “stubborn”. taurus placements just have so much difficulty accepting change and seeing it as an opportunity of growth instead of a painful process. you need to learn to let go and that good things might happen when you allow yourself to evolve and and outgrow your old self. you have a very grounded presence, while also having such a distinct sense of humour. very well-put together.

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

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

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

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

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

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

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕